#it’s so good you guys andi Delivered

[campbyler]

ANDI CHAPTER TOMORROW!!!!!

andi chapter TODAY!!!

[mangostarjam]

one night (fruit) stand — bnha, todoroki shouto x gn!reader, fluff, "love" as a pet name, fruit puns sorry, pro heroes, aged up, no quirks mentioned for reader, 2.2k words

written for andie's pretty boy summer collab!

"This is for you."

The low, measured tone is a welcome respite from the joyful chaos of the farmer's market, but you balk as you look up from a basket of oranges — straight into the eyes of your one night stand.

"Wait," you say. Your brow wrinkles. The man — tall, ridiculously handsome, way out of your league — merely blinks his dichromatic eyes and lowers his hand slightly. He sets the cold can of milk tea on the table and reaches up to tilt his bucket hat a little further up his head, revealing a shock of red and white hair that looks vaguely familiar. But that's not the only thing — "You have the same bucket hat as one of our regulars. But he said it was exclusive."

"I do have the hat," the hottest guy in the world says. "I'm Todoroki Shouto. Do you remember me?"

You feel the flush burn in your cheeks and up the back of your neck as hazy memories from last night leap unbidden to your mind. There was the warm buzz of alcohol in your veins — the intimate, cozy izakaya — a flash of a charming smile and mesmerizing dichromatic eyes — your quietly giddy giggling as you twined your arms around a smooth neck to stretch up on tiptoes for a kiss — stumbling into a door, tripping over shoes in the genkan, wrapping your legs around a trim waist as your partner groaned into your mouth —

Of course you fucking remember Todoroki Shouto. That was the best night of your entire life, and he was the cause of it. But why is he standing at your farmer's market stall looking like the world's hottest model for bucket hats?

You left his beautifully rumpled bed this morning way before dawn, yanking your clothes back on and mourning the loss of his strong body curled up around your own, positive you'd never see him again. You know for a fact that he doesn't have your number or any contact info.

But now he's here. At your farmer's market stall. Wearing a disconcertingly familiar bucket hat.

Maybe it's one of those new trends? You don't keep up with heroes and wouldn't recognize their branding if it smacked you in the face, but at the very least you know that when a hero starts rising in the rankings, their merch starts popping up more and more often. The hat looks like it could be one of those — it's a solid black with orange on the inside (that clashes terribly with Shouto's hair, except he still looks unfairly good), a thin line of orange along the edge, and an embroidered… grenade… patch centered in the middle.

Why anyone would walk around wearing a grenade bucket hat, you don't know, but if it's hero merch then it makes more sense. So Shouto must be a fan of this rising hero — a huge fan, to get an exclusive hat like this, but — wait, he's staring at you and gosh, his blue and gray eyes are so gorgeous and when his lips quirk in that little lopsided smile your heart feels dangerously like it'll leap out of your chest.

"I take it you remember me," he says, still in that even tone but with an edge of laughter this time.

Your face heats even more and your hands clench around the basket of oranges. "Sorry, sorry," you clear your throat. "I just… wasn't expecting you."

Shouto nudges the can of milk tea closer to you. "I wanted to see you again," he says carefully. You glance at the can and blink. It's your favorite drink to pick up from vending machines. Did that come up last night?

"And you came here to… give me a drink?"

He nods. A light breeze ruffles the collar of his shirt. His smile tugs a little bit higher on his handsome face.

Well, then. That smile is dangerous.

Shouto waits patiently as you get called to deliver the basket of oranges you're clutching for dear life. He hovers at the side of your stall, looking woefully out of place in his bucket hat and crisp, clean clothes. You can feel a streak of dirt along your cheek and your clothes are all dusty, but every time you glance back at him, he's looking at you steadily and completely unabashedly.

It's embarrassing, but you can't deny the little thrill that shoots to your toes every time you meet his gaze. "Todoroki-san, you really don't need to wait here," you say, slipping back to him during another lull in customers. "Thank you for the milk tea, though! It's my favorite."

Shouto blinks slowly as he observes you. The scrutiny does nothing to help your nerves — it takes two tries to pop the can open, and Shouto looks endlessly amused the whole time. "I would like to wait for you," he says. A pause. You bring the can up to your lips for a sip. "And you may call me Shouto. I appreciated the way you said it last night."

You choke on your drink.

The way you said it last night — gasping into his ear, moaning into his steadily fraying kisses — oh, jeez. "Ah, fuck," you blurt out, eyes widening with horror at the stray flecks of tea you've splattered on his shirt.

"It is alright," Shouto says. He pats at the small spots delicately with his sleeve and then seems to deem it unimportant. You blink as he looks up at you from beneath messy bangs. "Are you feeling… well?"

What a question. What a look. Does he know how lethally attractive he is? You take a very careful sip of your drink. "I'm… sore."

Shouto hums in response and carefully begins rolling up the sleeves of his button up. You watch, mesmerized, as the corded muscles of his forearms and biceps flex with the sure movement. You take a slow sip of your drink with wide eyes as he finishes and sets his hands on his hips. "Let me help."

Jeez, the shoulders on this guy. You can't help staring at the breadth of him as he comes around the table and into your space. A breeze of minty cool air washes over you with the movement and suddenly your brain catches what he's said.

"W-wait, Todoroki-san," you yelp, setting your can down and reaching for him. He continues bending for the large crate by your feet, hefting it up with barely any effort at all, and you're caught standing there holding onto the edge of his shirt. "Todoroki-san, you don't need to help!"

"Call me Shouto," he says. You gape up at him uselessly. "I would not want you to injure yourself because I made you sore."

"I — you — Todoroki-san," you huff, tugging even harder on his shirt. Shouto pouts and moves to bring the crate to the small truck parked behind your stall. You're forced to follow him, wary of accidentally messing up his shirt even more, though you feel a little dazed with his pout etching itself into your brain.

"This goes here?" Shouto asks. You nod wordlessly, still processing the cutest fucking pout you've ever seen on a grown man. "Would you like to hold my hand instead, love?"

Whoa, what?

Shouto sets the crate in place and dusts off his hands before reaching down to very gently detach your death grip on his shirt. You should get your hearing checked. You're clearly hearing things, because the hottest man you've seen in your entire life couldn't have possibly just called you 'love'.

"Love?" you repeat.

Shouto's lithe fingers squeeze around yours briefly. "Would you prefer a different pet name? I recall you mentioning that you liked that one."

You snap your jaw shut. "I… did…" you say slowly. But you said that to your regular, the other bucket hat wearer, the guy who always came wearing a face mask for pollen and dark sunglasses and that exact same bucket hat that you've… never seen anywhere else…

Several things fall into place at once. You stare up at Shouto with slowly mounting horror.

"Todoroki-san, are you… Helpless Produce Guy?"

Shouto laughs. Oh. Oh, you're so stupid. That's the laugh that's plagued your dreams every day for months as you've nursed your silly crush on the worst grocery shopper you've known. "So that is what you call me."

"I've never met someone more hopeless about buying fruit and vegetables," you say blankly. "I remember teaching you how to choose carrots the other day. I can't believe this. I've been teaching you how to pick watermelon for ages and I never knew your name or face. Just that bucket hat."

"Oi, Icyhot," a rough voice suddenly speaks up from behind the two of you, and you spin around to find yourself face to face with a spiky blonde guy who is undoubtedly a hero if the huge, bulky muscles are any indication. He's wearing a face mask and sunglasses, but he's got several reusable tote bags stuffed to the brim with leafy greens and potatoes and apples hanging off his arms.

"If you don't finish flirting with your new partner soon, I'm not gonna teach you how to make my famous curry recipe," the newcomer says. Shouto seems unfazed, simply tugging you closer with your intertwined hands. "Didn'tcha say you wanted to impress 'em?"

"I believe they are impressed," Shouto says evenly, glancing down at you with the ghost of a smile flitting across his lips. "I am helping because they are sore."

It's just the slightest emphasis on "sore", but it makes you itch to kiss that stupidly handsome smug smile off his face. "I'm fine," you say.

"Gross," the other man says decisively. You snort as he spins around and stomps off to look at a particularly enticing basket of celery stalks.

"Sorry, Todoroki-san, I promise I don't call you 'Helpless Produce Guy' that often," you say.

Shouto squeezes your hand. Warmth tingles up your arm and melts your heart into giddy mush. "I don't forgive you." You gape at him. He tugs you a little closer. "I will not forgive you until you agree to call me by my name."

Is he serious? The slight wrinkle in his brow makes you think… yes.

"That's… I don't know if I can," you blush.

Shouto hums. "Then you may call me your 'boyfriend' until I can remind you how to say my name."

Holy moly. This guy.

"Alright, boyfriend," you cannot say it without ducking your head. Almost immediately, his long fingers tip your chin back up. "Are you secretly a five star gourmet chef and you've just been acting like you've never seen a basket of strawberries before?"

Shouto cracks a tiny grin that pierces your heart. "I assure you, the produce help was invaluable. However, I frequent your stall the most because I find you… lovely."

Oh, dear.

"I do not wish for our relationship to remain limited to your stall at the farmer's market," he continues, as if he isn't blowing your mind with every word out of his perfect mouth. "Hence, why I could not help but approach you when I realized we were both at that izakaya last night."

"And you… knew it was me. Even though I didn't have my work apron."

"You were telling your friends about Helpless Produce Guy," Shouto says drily. "I had a feeling I knew the subject — but yes, I would recognize you anywhere."

"Jeez, Shouto," you breathe. Those dichromatic eyes widen a fraction before narrowing as you take a step closer to him. "I didn't realize… where are your sunglasses and mask?"

He pats the front pocket of his button down assuredly. "I am prepared."

You cast a quick glance around. Your coworkers are handling the stall well, and fruits are practically flying off the shelves as Shouto's friend gives a lecture to a captive audience about the importance of fresh fruits and vegetables in a healthy diet. The two of you are tucked out of view, mostly hidden behind the truck.

"And this…" you gesture between the two of you with your free hand. "We're… dating?"

Shouto nods solemnly, but there's a sparkle in his eyes. "Yes, my love. You make my heart beat berry fast."

Your lips twitch before you can help it. "No."

"I think we make a good pear," he says. "I find you very a-peel-ing."

You burst into giggles and Shouto tugs you into his firm chest. The sturdy, steadily increasing heartbeat beneath your ear isn't quite loud enough to drown out your own rapidly leaping pulse.

"If you were a fruit you'd be a fineapple," he says into your ear. You shudder lightly at the low, even tone but snort at his deadpan delivery, soft as it is. "Is this okay? You said once that you liked these puns."

"I do," you nod. "And I'd love to date you. Since you have a peach of my heart."

"Good," he murmurs. You tip your head up to look at him and beam at the gentle blush rising on his cheeks. Shouto leans down to press a careful kiss to your lips, drawing back after a moment with a shaky breath. "I was running out of lines."

"Don't you mean you were running out of limes?" you snicker.

Shouto stares. And then, still with that soft, deadpan tone — "Every day with you will be mangonificent."

[an-architect-of-words]

We need to talk about Tartt’s character descriptions

More Donna Tartt praise.

She writes human physical descriptions in the most genuine and true-to-life ways. I didn’t even realize how many books do not go into the actual nuance of human appearances until I read TSH and Goldfinch.

I think most books kind of categorize people as pretty, ugly, or plain then lean into what generally makes people pretty, ugly, or plain plus hair and eye colors. I love how Tartt’s books make characters appear how the majority of people really do: an assortment of specific details. There’s Boris’s bitten nails and how Henry is big and square but does not carry himself as if he is. Bunny is a once-muscled guy (now more chubby) whose naturally good looks are starting to get a little sloppy. His nose is also a bit small/sharp for his face shape. Camilla is pretty, and we hear about her thick ankles and the way her curls rest at her temples. Francis is nice-looking because he carries and styles himself well, but we hear that those things compensate for his kind of beaky nose and boney angles.

Pippa is another great example! Theo describes her looks as tender and precious. She comes across as very cute in a homely way. But we hear that her eyes look “naked” because her lashes are so pale (I can imagine this so well!) and that her nose is long. Her cheeks are thin. Theo notes these things, and thinks she’s pretty anyway; he assumes he must have some personal affinity for her and is given a wake-up call when Everett also finds these traits cute.

OH actually let me squeeze in Mr. Barbour here. Because lol???

His eyes were a queer unstable gray and his hair was pure white, which made him seem older than he was until you noticed that his face was young and pink — boyish, even. His ruddy cheeks and his long, old-fashioned nose, in combination with the prematurely white hair, gave him the amiable look of a lesser founding father, some minor member of the Continental Congress teleported to the twenty-first century.

This is so specific and so easy to see. It stuck out to me when I read it, and my mom mentioned it to me when she read it. She said she was really hit by Andy’s dad’s description and thought it was funny but did a really good job delivering an image.

It’s just so real and gets at how normal people actually are: not always pretty in a “safe” way. Tartt has the guts to give you a description of an actual unique, textured person and say “This is nice.” Or, in Bunny’s case, give someone who is basically handsome but not necessarily pleasant-looking. Theres so much nuance, and it’s honest.

It kind of made me rethink how I write human descriptions. There are “safe” things to point out that become a little insubstantial if you combine too many of them: “The pretty girl has glossy hair and curves and bright blue eyes.” And then there’s going into actual shapes and the way people carry themselves and how some features look against others. It honestly just makes the characters really pop and they’re easy to envision.

[whumpofalltime]

friends, enemies, lurkers, we've made it to the

Whump Of All Time Finals!

What's the whumpiest whump of all time? Help us decide!

Find links and propaganda under the cut. Quarterfinalist and later match-ups are untagged, so your votes and reblogs matter! Make sure you click through to the main blog to find the run-off poll to crown third place, as well!

ROTK:

(spider attack, rescue)

"The Lord of The Rings, when Frodo gets bitten by a giant spider and left for dead by Sam at the end of The Two Towers, and then when Sam finds him in The Return of the King being held prisoner and whipped by an orc."

The Young Blood Chronicles (Save Rock and Roll's music videos, Fall Out Boy):

(link)

"Everyone gets bloodied, bruised, beaten up, tortured, rescued, limbs are amputated - it's brutal. Alone Together is particularly strong."

sorry for being late, but you want YBC propaganda? then you're getting YBC propaganda. I know you're a FOB fan, but I will be writing this for the benefit of those who don't know what YBC is, for better propaganda purposes! and yeah this is gonna be LONG. sorry.

So! The Youngblood Chronicles (shortened to YBC) is a series of 11 music videos made by the band Fall Out Boy, for their album Save Rock And Roll (you know this album, it's the one with My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark on it). The whole thing is quite short, less than fifty minutes long (even shorter if you don't count the uncut version's credits!!), and every single music video has some element of whump in it. This propaganda is gonna break down each individual music vid, and at i'll also talk a little bit about the irl context the album was written in, and why even THAT can be a little bit whumpy if you're insane like me!

(note: i'm going in the original release order over the uncut order, hence why i'm starting with MSKWYDITD instead of The Phoenix)

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark: Arguably the least whump-y out of all of them, but man, seeing all of Fall Out Boy's discography and memorabilia be burnt while people are dancing around the destruction? Man, when you know the real life stuff (the reception the band had in 2009, leading to them to take a three year hiatus)... and at the end, you see four guys bound in the back of a van!! And that van is getting burnt!! Burn everything you love and burn the... ashes.

The Phoenix: NOW here's the first of MANY whump tastes you'll get. Patrick Stump, the singer/cutie of the band, gets kidnapped, tied to a chair, has his hand CHOPPED OFF and mailed to his bandmate/best friend Pete Wentz, then gets tied down and utterly tortured by women who are laughing at his misery the entire time, getting prodded and stabbed by tools for... well, you'll see. By the end of the video, Pete and the other two members of FOB (Joe Trohman and Andy Hurley) have been kidnapped by these mysterious women too, with Pete specifically getting kidnapped by the blonde woman he was in bed with when Patrick's hand got delivered to him. If you enjoy cute boys getting tied down, covered in blood, and writhing around like worms while getting tortured... well you'll enjoy all of YBC but specifically you'll enjoy this!! I did :D! The war is won, before it's begun, release the doves, surrender love...

Young Volcanoes: Good news, FOB has been reunited! Bad news, by the women who dismembered Patrick! And now all the band members are tied to chairs, hooked up to IVs full of god knows what types of drugs, and blindfolded (all except Patrick). They are then forced to drink, snort hard drugs, and are force fed Patrick's organs! Yep, all four of them are forced to eat their lead singer's guts, and are so fucking drugged up they don't even realize what's happening (and now you know what the women were doing to him in the last mv, and you even get a nice little shot of the hack job of stitching him back up)!! Patrick hallucinates everyone having fun, but of course, at the end, all of them are knocked out because of the drugs. Americana, exotica, do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby?

Alone Together: This is the song the OG propaganda mentioned, and for good reason. All four of them are shipped off into little personalized torture rooms, and, well, tortured! Pete is able to break out and even steals the hook from the girl who was torturing him, but little does he know that'll be his own undoing... also, in general, this song has some whumpy elements, specifically the line "my heart is like a stallion/they love it more when it's broke-in"... but notice how easy it is to hear "broke-in" as "broken"! At the end of the video, Pete is at least able to find Patrick (Joe and Andy have NOT been having a good time, either!! But sadly, they aren't found by Pete, but Pete DOES find Big Sean), and is even able to attach the hook to the stump (ha!) where his hand used to be. But something is clearly wrong with Patrick now. His eyes are yellow, and as the song ends, we hold on him, sneering and twitching. This is the road to ruin - and we're started at the end...

The Mighty Fall: First off if you say this is the worst song off of SRAR I will hunt you for sport. OKAY ANYWAYS, chronologically this comes after MSKWYDITD, and yeah, the four guys are the members of FOB. Pete is able to free himself with Patrick's new hook hand, and is able to get the other three out while Pete is hacking up a lung from the fire they just barely escaped. But they're not done getting their shit rocked yet. A gang of children show up (the leader being the kid Patrick waved at right before he was kidnapped back in the Phoenix MV), and proceed to separate them and beat the living shit out of them. The leader kid who's chasing Patrick plays something on a boombox... which triggers Patrick to go yellow-eyed again (from here on out i'll call it "going Youngblood" or "Youngblood self"). It was confirmed in the commentary track that ANY music would cause him to go Youngblood. And knowing Patrick IRL fucking loves to create/compose music... yeah! Take something he loves and turn it into something that drives him insane!! I'm normal!! And also the irl parallel you could draw to his solo career doing the same thing to him (on a less uh Dramatic level but you know)!!! Ouch!!!! Big Sean is able to save Patrick, but at the cost of his own life (and a killer rap verse... HELL YEAH I'M A DICK GIRL, ADDICTED TO YOU). Oh, how the mighty fall in love...

Just One Yesterday: The last vestiges of comfort you're gonna get for a WHILE. The four are separated, getting even more beaten up, Pete vomits up a snake, Andy gets his shit rocked by a homeless guy, Joe has to use white sheets as a makeshift tourniquet bc his leg got fucked up in The Mighty Fall MV, and Patrick is picked up by a kind stranger (hi Foxes! you have a very pretty voice! PLEASE KEEP YOUR HANDS ON THE STEERING WHEEL!). And finally, finally we get a hope spot. Fall Out Boy is reunited (the part where Andy just grabs onto Patrick's arm, in disbelief they're both alive... augh!!! AUGH!!!!), and for a moment, it seems they've been delivered to a hospital... before Foxes' eyes go completely black, looking at Patrick... and turns on the radio. She's able to trigger the Youngblood. And now Patrick is gone. The other three scramble into the hospital, Patrick not far behind, determined to kill them to stop the noise in his head. If Heaven's grief brings Hell's reign, then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday...

Where Did The Party Go: Patrick, now fully consumed by the Youngblood brainwashing, is now stalking his bandmates in a hospital. Patrick is seeing visions of the hospital as an abandoned party, Andy has to painfully disinfect the wounds he's gotten, Pete is able to call for the police, and Joe... oh, poor Joe. He barricades himself into a room, but not well enough. Patrick finds him, and kills him, slitting his throat with the hook hand, showing no remorse at all... until Andy and Pete find them. The Youngblood wears off, and Patrick looks to what he's done, and is horrified at what he's done to his friend. And, bad news for him, the police are here, ready to arrest the murderer. All Andy and Pete can do is watch as tears roll down Patrick's eyes. And for the extra IRL context, this was the first song written for the album that made Pete and Patrick realize they had to get FOB back together... so lets match that with a music video where the member who helped get the band together in the first place dies. By the hands of the kid he found. Let's fade away together, one dream at a time...

Death Valley: Joe gets... uh, a little comfort? I mean, he thinks he's getting sent to heaven but goes to hell, buuuuut I think doing drugs in rock and roll hell with Tommy Lee is actually a pretty sweet deal, better than the deal the other three got! Pete and Andy are being interrogated while Patrick is in a jail cell. We find out that the cult that kidnapped them, Silence the Noise, is lead by Pete's girlfriend from WAAAAY back in the Phoenix MV, Courtney Love. And at the end of the MV... Patrick is bailed out of jail by Silence the Noise. They have him again. And this time, they're not gonna let him walk out until he's fully under their control. 'Cause tonight it's just fire alarms and losing you...

Rat a Tat: Silence the Noise has Patrick, and they utterly brainwash him, A Clockwork Orange style, with electroshock stimulation to keep him from looking away or closing his eyes, until there is nothing left. Patrick Stump does not exist anymore. Only the Youngblood, pliant under the control of Silence the Noise, tasked to destroy what he once loved; music. Andy dies at the hands of the cult, and now Pete has to protect a briefcase, the thing that got them into this mess, and keep it away from Silence the Noise, all while his best friend hunts him down. Are you ready for another bad poem?

Miss Missing You: THE WHUMPIEST OF THE WHUMP. What if we were best friends but you've been driven insane and I know the only way to stop you is to kill you and it was my fault you got into this mess and I was the one who gave you the weapon that will be my own undoing. What if we both died at the same time. What if we died, both of us failing the mission we had before us. What if that was a reference to one of their first music videos. What if this song was originally written for Patrick's solo album but he realized it was more of a Fall Out Boy song so it was scrapped until now. What if there's a legit argument to be made that half the lyrics for this song was written by Patrick. What if we were both boys. Grips walls, yeha i'm normal. If you don't watch ANY other music vid, watch Miss Missing You. Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger. The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger.

Save Rock And Roll: And our final track gives us a final bit of comfort. Patrick is able to overcome the Youngblood, and gets into heaven, where all of FOB is finally, finally reunited. God (aka Elton John) gives them new instruments and brings them back to earth, so they can do what they love; play music together. Which just so happens to release people from the control of Silence the Noise! But, because we can't have nice things, a cult within Silence the Noise got a hold of the briefcase, and summoned a spirit that starts to kill everyone. FOB stands together, and blasts the evil spirit, the blood coming up to the gates of heaven and covering Elton John in it. And... that's how it ends. No true resolution. Just Elton John covered in blood, as the song fades out. Oh, no! Wherever I go, go! Trouble seems to follow! I only plugged in to save rock and roll!

UH. AGAIN I APOLOGIZE FOR THE LENGTH. but i really wanted to express just how much WHUMP they manage to fit into less than fifty minutes, all backed by an amazing album colored by the three years they were apart. colored by how they grew, colored by how bad the hiatus was for Patrick specifically, colored by how Confessions of a Pariah got Pete to reach out to help him, and this album came out of it, Fall Out Boy came back out of it, and now here we are, ten years later, with the title track being performed every night for their concert, with all the band singing the final lines together, and the line you are what you love, not who loves you hitting every single night.

SORRY. LISTEN TO FALL OUT BOY. thanks for letting me rant.

[hoedamn-eron]

baby, please - part 21

It's time.

Warnings: Long, (looooong) chapter. Labour (all labour is different for each person!). Hospitals, doctors. Medical jargon again, I researched as much as I could and from what I remember from my own birth experience, but may be inaccurate (I am from the UK, so it will probably be different than the US). A little angsty, but it's fine. Reader calls her friends 'guys' but it's used in a group setting. Not proofread at all, because it was huge, so there will be mistakes. Some swearing. Word count: 5,414 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Part 20 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 22

Apologies again that this is 1 whole day late!

You’d been…busy.

You had needed to keep your mind off of Santiago, because if not, you would just sit and cry all day (which made you feel extra pathetic, and you were not pathetic). So you had dived headfirst into finishing decorating, and unpacking, your house, and getting it ready for your babies.

And even though you had taken some paid PTO to get a head start on your maternity leave, you’d found yourself checking your emails (again, just for something to do). You’d somehow managed to get involved in some feedback for the most recent marketing launch, signing off on some final designs and helping out the team with some final bits and pieces.

Your friends (and one surprising day, Emily) have turned up at your house under the guise of helping you out with the house and shower you and your babies with more gifts.

But you know they were there to check on you and make sure you hadn��t had a breakdown.

So yes…you’d been busy. And you should probably start taking it easy, since you’ve started cramping for a few days. Although now they’re starting to hurt.

Jennifer and Dr Montgomery had both said that you were carrying two babies that were very quickly going to run out of room, and with your placenta issue, you were bound to feel aches and pains, so it wasn’t abnormal. Uncomfortable, yes, but not unusual. You just needed to relax, and you will. Eventually, but today wasn’t the day, because your new mirror had just been delivered and you’d roped your friends into helping you lug it up your stairs.

“Why did you get one so big?” Beth asked, huffing as she and Courtney took a break just outside the nursery.

“It was cute,” you say. “And the frame is nice. It adds to the blank wall in my bedroom.”

“It’s not a hanging mirror, is it?” Courtney asked, just as out of breath as Beth.

You shake your head. “No, it’s a standing mirror, it leans.”

“Oh good, I was debating having to call Andy.”

“Do you guys want takeout?” Gabrielle asked, suddenly appearing behind you all. She was looking at her phone, typing away. “I’ve managed to convince Matthew to watch the kids a little longer.”

“Sure,” you reply.

“Let’s just get this mirror in here first,” said Beth, before counting down again for her and Courtney to heave the mirror into your bedroom.

After a few more choice words thrown at each other, and the mirror finally in place in your bedroom (not smashed to smithereens, no matter how many times Beth threatened to demolish it), you all decide on Chinese for takeout. Once the food arrives, you settle at your dining table, dividing the food between the four of you.

You wince again as another twinge in your abdomen causes another wave of pain flows through you. You take a few deep breathes until it passes, and you turn back to your food. Your friends haven’t noticed, their conversation flowing as if nothing had happened.

Until Courtney asked how you were doing.

You shrug, digging around your food. “So-so.”

“Have you heard nothing from him? At all?” Beth asks.

You shake your head, not looking up from pushing your food around with your fork. “Nope. I don’t really think I want to, either.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence before Gabrielle bites her lip, then clears her throat lightly. “I uh…I heard from Ben that he’s leaving for South America in a few days.”

You look up at her, not sure how to feel, or what to say. You settle on an, “Oh.”

“Ben didn’t say where, he was messaging to check up on you, mostly,” Gabrielle says.

You shake your head, suddenly not feeling so hungry. You place your food on the table. “He can do what he wants, he made it perfectly clear what he wanted out of this.”

“I’m sorry this has happened to you,” said Beth, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze.

You give her a sad smile. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” replied Courtney firmly. “It was a shitty thing for him to do to you.”

You give her a small grin. “I mean, yeah, it was a shitty thing, but he’s entitled to his own opinion. I’m not going to force him to do something he doesn’t want to.”

Your friends go quiet at they merely stare at you, mixture of sadness and anger on their faces. You feel a warmth flow through you at your friends. You appreciated them so much, how protective they were of you, how you know that you wouldn’t be truly alone in this, that they were your chosen family, and they were your chosen family for a reason.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, giving Beth’s hand a squeeze back before pulling away. “Really. I’ll be the best mom these babies deserve.”

“And they’ll have the best aunties,” said Gabrielle, giving you a smile.

“She’s right,” said Courtney, pointing at Gabrielle then at yourself, giving you a look.

“We know what you’re like, and we don’t want you to think that you’re bothering us if you ask for help,” said Beth. “Or call us if you just need to have a talk. Or a meltdown. Or anything.”

“And one of us will take you to the hospital next week,” said Courtney firmly. “Don’t you worry about it.”

“And we’ll be there with you when your babies come into the world,” said Gabrielle.

Beth nodded in agreement. You sucked in your lips as you felt the tears flood your eyes, and you nod, looking down. You hear the shuffle of chairs and then you’re suddenly surrounded by a warm hug from your friends, and you grip onto them tightly, the warm feeling of love and companionship continuing to flow through you.

You give a small laugh before pushing them away. “Come on, you guys. You know everything is making me cry nowadays, don’t become another reason.”

They adhere to you eventually, and you continue to eat your takeout together. They offer to help clean up, but you usher them out the door, since it was getting late, and they had to leave you alone at some point. With a few good-natured grumbles, your friends eventually leave, with promises to check up on you again tomorrow. You roll your eyes but wave at them from your front door as they drive away.

You go into your house and close the door behind you, sighing as you lean against it. You stroke your bump, smiling at the swift kick you receive to the palm of your hand. It’s as if they knew exactly where you were. You make your way to your kitchen-dining room, and clear up the takeout containers, putting the leftovers in the fridge. You wash the plates, and when you put the last plate in your draining board, you let out a sharp gasp as another cramp hits you.

You lean against the counter, taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself.

“Okay,” you say after the pain subsides. You rub at your bump, feeling how tense it was. “I hear you. I’ll take it easy. I’ll go to bed.”

You check again that your windows and doors are locked before you turn your lights off and make your way upstairs. You walk into your bedroom and into your en suite bathroom, before washing your face and brushing your teeth. You change into your comfiest pyjamas and settle into your bed, sighing in bliss at the feeling of the fresh sheets you’d placed on that afternoon. You stroke at your bump again, wishing your twins a goodnight, before you turn off the bedside light.

You’re exhausted, and the last week was catching up with you. It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep.

However, you wake up suddenly, groaning in pain, not feeling at all rested. You immediately curl in on yourself, your hands wrapping around your bump as the pain spreads through to your back. You try and breathe through it, but you find yourself gritting your teeth and cursing loudly. You shake your head, tears filling your eyes and threatening to spill over.

You couldn’t ignore the pains now, you needed to go to the hospital. You wait a few moments, the pain calming again as you slowly sit up, trying to gather your thoughts. You take a look at your phone, seeing that it was nearly 4am. You stand, a little wobbly on your feet, and turn on your lamp. You make your way to your bathroom again, throwing some cold water onto your face.

You look at yourself in the mirror as you pat your face dry with a hand towel. You look a little flushed. And...your bump has dropped. It's definitely dropped.

Holy shit. Maybe they weren’t just cramps from overdoing it.

You practically run to your phone as you call the hospital, then asking to be put through to labour and delivery.

“Hi, yes,” you say as a man picks up, and you quickly introduce yourself. “I’m...I’ve been booked in for a C-section next week but...but I think I've started labour.”

You let him know how Dr Montgomery had diagnosed you with placenta previa, and how for the past few days you’d been feeling tightenings, and that the cramps had gotten worse. You were advised to come in as soon as possible. You swallow back the urge to burst into tears as you thank the man over the phone before you hang up. You stare at your phone for a moment, your breathing a little strained as you try to process what was happening.

You might be in labour. Your babies might be here in the next day.

You feel sick. What do you do now? Were you even ready for this?

You mentally slap yourself. It’s a bit too late for that. You have to be ready!

You take a few steadying breaths, before making a note of the time you woke up as you make your way back into the bathroom. You make yourself look somewhat presentable and you go to change into some comfortable, all the while keeping an eye on the time in case another contraction (because they must be contractions) comes along.

You’d already packed your hospital bags in preparation for next week and you thank whatever Gods are looking down on you for having them ready for now.

You call a cab and wait patiently (or impatiently) for it to arrive. You can’t call your friends now, it’s far too early in the morning, and you’ve been relying on them for a while, no matter how many times they tell you that they’re happy to help. You'll update them once you’re in the hospital and settled in.

You go over your things one final time, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything as your Uber turns up. After explaining to your driver, he helps you with your hospital bags as you climb into the car, another contraction (because really, that’s what they are, you have to accept it now) overcomes you. You check the time on your phone as you breathe through it.

Fifteen minutes had passed since your last contraction.

That was a very short amount of time.

You time it as your driver pulls away, making the journey to the hospital. It wasn’t a long contraction, around thirty seconds, so you make a note of it for when you arrived at the hospital (which, by the speed you were going at, won’t take too long – the driver must be scared you’ll give birth in the back of your car).

You make it to the hospital, where the driver very kindly takes you and your bags to check in, where a nurse quickly prompts you into a wheelchair. You thank your driver again before he leaves, fully intending to give him a great tip.

You rattle off your timings for contractions to the nurse pushing your wheelchair, where she said she would make a note of it on your chart for Dr Montgomery. You thanked her, before she brought you to your room, getting you all set up.

After being examined by more doctors, and meeting the labour team, you were informed that it might be best to settle you in for monitoring and have Dr Montgomery talk you through the next steps. You were settled into your room and strapped up to all sorts of machines when Dr Montgomery came in, a clipboard in her hand. She grins at you from your place in the bed. “Couldn’t wait until next week, huh?”

You give a laugh. “Well, I could, but my kids had other ideas.”

“Well, you’re all checked out, and we think it’s best that we move your C-section forward, so we can see if we can organise one for you today. Since you’re not at 37 weeks, your babies may need to stay in the NICU for a few days, but we’ll monitor them, see how they do.” She looks at your chart before glancing around the room. “Santiago not joining us?”

You tense at her question, before awkwardly clearing your throat. “Uh…no. No, he won’t be.” You give a light shrug. “It didn’t work out…for him.”

“Oh,” said Dr Montgomery, before she gives you a sympathetic smile. “Well, these things happen. You won’t be the first single mother to come here, I can assure you.”

You feel a pain in your chest, and your throat close up as tears flood your eyes. You don’t know what to say, so you nod at her.

After she checks over your monitors, she tells you that she’ll go and get you booked in for your C-section as soon as possible, and gives you some drugs to slow down your contractions, in case she couldn’t get you sorted for another day. She gives you some words of encouragement and recommended you try and get some more sleep before she leaves your room.

There was a fat chance of you getting back to sleep after all of this.

You had packed a book that you had had for well over a year that you had every intention to read. There was no time like the present, since most of your time now would be taken up by two newborns.

And you eventually need to tell your friends that you were, in face, in labour.

You grab your phone, sending a quick message to your group chat. They wouldn’t see it until they woke up anyway, and it’s barely 5:30am.

Hey all. Just to let you all know, I’m in the hospital. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine! My C-section may be moved forward for today because the twins decided that it was time to make an appearance.

C: WHAT C: OMG C: WHAT

Your eyes widen as Courtney’s messages come flooding in.

Why are you awake!?

C: THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT C: ARE YOU OKAY? C: I AM SO EXCITED C: DO YOU NEED ME THERE? C: I don’t care what you say I’m coming anyway.

You laugh at her, telling her that she really didn’t need to, but she was already on the way. You send her your room details, before settling down to read your book, reading Courtney’s updates as she sends them over to you. You’re about half an hour into your book when Courtney shows up, bursting into your room, breathless, with her own overnight bag in her hands.

“How fast did you drive?” you ask her, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I slowed down for speed cameras,” she replied. Immediately making her way over to you and checking you over. “How are you? Are you okay? Are you in any pain?”

“They’ve given me some drugs to slow down my labour,” you reply. “Contractions are less painful now, and a little more spaced, so it’s definitely done the job.”

“Have you…have you contacted…”

You give her a look. “No, I haven’t.”

Courtney nods. “And your parents?”

You snort. “Same story.”

She gives another nod, more firm. “Okay. Just you and me then.”

It was nice, to have Courtney around. She took a few selfies with you and sent them into the group chat, and when Beth and Gabrielle finally saw the messages. You were immediately bombarded with questions of your wellbeing, when your C-section was planned for (that was still to be confirmed, but Dr Montgomery had been checking in with you throughout the day and your labour hadn’t progressed much further), and that they could be with you if you needed it.

But you were fine. Your nerves had settled, you were now even excited to meet your babies. Everything was running smoothly, and Dr Montgomery was due back in the hour to let you know if your C-section was happening tonight. You are a warrior, a fighter, and nothing will break your spirit. Whatever the outcome, you know that you will face it with courage and grace, for you are a woman, fierce and resilient, ready to conquer whatever lies ahead.

Courtney had stepped out to call Andy about half an hour ago, and was going to grab some food from the cafeteria. You had almost finished your book when the door to your room opened.

“Did you get lost coming back?” you joked, not looking up from your book.

With no answer, your brow furrows. You look up with the intention of asking Courtney if everything was okay, but your breathing stopped as you looked into the soulful and intense eyes of Santiago Garcia.

You slowly close your book, letting it fall to the bed. You had to be dreaming. You’ve fallen asleep reading your book, there was no way he was here. Not after your conversation last week, where he told you he didn’t want to be a dad, that he had no intention of being involved, how meeting you was practically a mistake.

“Hi,” he says, almost breathlessly.

You don’t know how to respond. Your mouth suddenly feels dry. You're sitting there, in the sterile scent of the hospital room, looking at the reason you’d been so damn miserable this last week. Your heart pounds like a drum against your ribcage, each beat echoing the anticipation that fills the room. Your hands, all of a sudden clammy and trembling, clutch onto the medical standard bed sheets draped over you.

The minutes stretch into eternity as you stare at him, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. Fear and rapid anger grip you like a vice, squeezing your chest with each passing second.

Finally, you ask, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Santiago holds his hands up in surrender. “I know, I’m an asshole and you probably don’t want me here – “

“Damn right I don’t want you here,” you snap at him, eyes glowering. “I’m in the right mind to call security!”

“I know, I know,” he hurriedly says, taking a step towards the bed. “Just please, please, hear me out for a second.”

“I heard you out last week and you told me – “

“I know what I said last week,” Santiago said quickly, finally lowering his hands. “And…I was an idiot. I am an idiot.”

“How did you even know I was here?” you demanded.

“Benny told me,” Santiago replied.

You don’t ask how Benny knew (because honestly, you had a clue, and you’ll be having some choice words with a certain someone). You merely stare at him before shaking your head at him. “If you’ve come to tell me you’re leaving for South America, I already know, you didn’t – “

“I cancelled it,” he said, giving you an intense stare. “I needed to be here. With you.”

“No, no, you don’t,” you reply, already shaking your head. “I have Courtney, Courtney’s here with me.”

He flinches at your words, the guilt flickering across his features like a shadow. “I couldn't live with the regret of not being there for you, for them,” he says. “Knowing you were going through this...I couldn't stay away. I have to be here.”

You don’t say anything, merely stare at him and let him continue.

“I know I said I didn't want to be involved,” he begins, his voice quiet but filled with sincerity. "But...I made a mistake. I got scared, scared of messing up, of not being enough for them and for you and I thought…I thought leaving would fix it, but it hasn’t.”

“You’ve realised this now?” you ask him, tears in your eyes. “You…you left me alone, and worried about the future with my kids, and we had an amazing few months together…”

Santiago shakes his head at you, tears in his own eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I can't change the past. But I'm here now, and I want to make things right. I want to be here for you, for our kids.”

You study him for a moment, still gripping the hospital sheets tightly. The tears start to fall as the moments stretch into a long silence, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You try to push away the thoughts of what could go wrong, but they linger, hovering at the edges of your consciousness like unwanted guests.

“Just because you cancel your trip – “ you cut yourself off, before you finally let out a sob, looking at him. “I don't know if I can forgive you.”

His shoulders deflate as he slowly nods at you. “I understand, corazón, I do, but please...let me be here for you now. Let me make things right. I miss you,” he says.

You open your mouth to reply but you’re interrupted by Courtney, making her way in with a brown paper bag.

“The line was huge at the cafeteria, so I went to Walmart down the street…” she goes quiet as her gaze lands on Santiago, before her jaw sets and her eyes harden. “What are you doing here?”

“I just came to apologise – “

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t need it,” Courtney snaps. “She’s fine. She’s been fine without you, and she can raise these kids herself. She doesn’t need you.”

Santiago turns to look back at you, but you can’t find the words to say. You want to believe him, to let go of the hurt and anger that have consumed you for the past week. But the wounds run deep, carved into the very fabric of your being. You meet his gaze, searching for any trace of sincerity amidst the turmoil of emotions that swirls between you.

He takes your silence as a rejection. He gives a sad sigh before nodding. “Okay. I understand.”

Courtney steps out of the way, motioning to the door.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers to you, his voice barely audible. “I was wrong. I’ll go. But I just want you know that I’ll be there for you, and for them, whenever you need. I’ll come to every doctor’s appointment and every school play, or sports game, and I’ll take them overnight whenever you need. I’ll help out with anything. Okay? I want to be their dad.” he gives you a look of longing and love before he turns to leave.

As you watch him leave your life again, you feel the panic overtake you. Your breathing quickens as you follow him with wide eyes. And in that moment, you realise that despite everything, despite the pain and the hurt, a part of you still longs for the connection you once shared. And your children deserve to have a father, whether you’re together or not. “Wait, wait!”

Santiago pauses, just as he gets to the door and looks back at you, his eyes wide. Even Courtney was looking at you with confusion.

“You can stay,” you say, nodding quickly. “I want you to stay. But we’re going to have a damn long talk after this.”

Santi’s shoulders sag again, this time in relief. He quickly makes his way over to you, and you throw the covers from you and swing your legs over the bed. With a quick order from him to not even think about getting out of the bed, he envelopes you in his arms. You feel a sense of warmth and security envelope you, all that matters is the connection between the two of you.

Your arms wrap around each other, pulling each other in tightly, as if trying to bridge the gap of all the time you've been apart. You can feel his heartbeat against yours, a steady rhythm that reassures you that he is real, he is here. In that moment, all your worries melt away, and you are left with nothing but the simple joy of being together again.

Courtney clears her throat awkwardly, causing the two of you to pull apart. “I can go home, if you need me to.”

“I don’t want you to,” you say. “I have a feeling that Beth and Gabs might show up and I need you to keep them tethered.”

“Good news!” Dr Montgomery called as she walked into the room, faltering slightly before smiling widely at the sight of Santi. “Good to see you, Santiago, I’m glad you could join us. I was just about to let you all know that your C-section will be in an hour.”

Your heart skips a beat as you look at her. “I’m sorry, I think I just blacked out for a second. Did you say an hour?”

She smiles at you again as she nods. “Yes. In one hour, you two will be parents.”

You look at Santi, who was looking at you with an equally nervous look on his face. You bite your lip before smiling and looking back at Dr Montgomery. “Okay. One hour.”

“Santiago, we’ll get you scrubbed up just before you all go in,” said Dr Montgomery, checking your chart and noting your current heart rate and the babies’. “Will you be staying?” she asks Courtney.

You answer before Courtney could get a word in. “Yes, she will be. She might be with some other friends of ours though, in the waiting room.”

“The guys are here, actually, I better tell them to wait up,” said Santi. He looks back to you. “I’ll come back.”

You nod at him as he leaves. Courtney watches him and turns to you as the door clothes. “Are you sure about this?”

You take a breath before sighing. “Yes. I am. If not for me, then for our kids. We don’t have to be together as long as he’s there for them.”

“And if he decides again that he doesn’t want to be their dad?”

You want to snap at her, to tell her to have some faith, but she was right, it might be a possibility. What if he does change his mind when the twins get here, when they’re out in the big wide world, and need all the protection they could get? What if in a few years he does find a girlfriend who wants a family with him, and he prioritises them over your kids?

You shake your head. You can’t think that now. Santi’s a good man. He doesn’t make the same mistake twice. “I trust him.” You say to Courtney.

Courtney gives a sigh before nodding. “Okay. And I trust you.”

You nod before looking back to Dr Montgomery, giving a nervous smile. “So, what now?”

You’re prepped for surgery, Courtney on the phone with Beth as she keeps her and Georgia in the loop. Gabrielle had to stay at home with the kids, but planned to FaceTime when Beth finally made it to the hospital.

“Traffic is horrendous,” Beth snapped down the phone.

You faintly heard Georgia screaming in general at the traffic, causing you to laugh. They had time, it was fine. And Santi was pacing your hospital room, on the phone with one of his sisters. You could hear here reprimanding him about something or other in Spanish, and you grinned in amusement.

In no time at all, you were being wheeled out of your room, Courtney giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, wishing you good luck, and that she will be in the waiting room with Beth and Georgia (and from what Santi said, Frankie, Benny, and Will too).

You nod at her and give her a teary smile and you and Santi are led into the theatre. You take a deep breath, looking around at the doctors and at Santi, who was already staring at you, giving you a gentle smile. You give him a small laugh. “The scrubs suit you; you should study to be a doctor.”

“Can’t stand for long hours with my bad knees,” he teases back.

You give a small laugh before you turn to look at him. “Dr Mongomery said they might need to go to the NICU for monitoring.”

Santi inhales sharply for a moment before nodding. “Okay. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“Do you have an overnight bag?” you ask him, eyes wide with concern. “It’s an hour back home, I don’t want you going back and forth all the time.”

“I do have a bag,” he says, grinning. “I left it in my car.”

You freeze, your eyes widening at you look at him. “In your car?”

“In my car,” he replied, giving you a pointed look. “Went to a dealership this afternoon.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him. “Really?”

“I still have my truck,” he said, giving a small laugh. “Might give it to Benny. His truck is always breaking down and he relies on Will to take him everywhere.”

You could cry. You were crying. You were ugly sobbing as you laugh at yourself. “Couldn’t truly part with it?”

“At least it’ll be going to good hands,” said Santi as you’re finally brought to your operating room.

Dr Montgomery explains to you the procedure, and the risks it may come with as the other surgeons set up the partition and prep you for surgery. You nod along with Dr Montgomery, and you’re thankful when Santi places his own hand into your shaking one. You grip him tightly as Dr Montgomery smiles at you.

“You’re in good hands. The best hands,” she says, before she disappears to prepare herself.

You take a shaky breath before looking at Santi. He takes a seat and sits by your head as you hear the doctors talk about your epidural. He leans down and starts stroking your hair.

“Everything’ll be okay,” he said, the repetitive movements of his hand soothing you.

You nod at him, trying to calm your thundering heart. You don’t take your eyes from Santi’s as he squeezes your hand, smiling at you. You give him a nervous smile back. Santi lifts your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, trying to calm your nerves.

You think back to yourself not even a year ago, finding out you were pregnant by a complete stranger, and going through the journey together; through the ups and downs of accepting the pregnancy, and having to rearrange your lives to begin this new chapter, and dealing with the loss scare, and Santi’s uncertainty. You want to tell him how much he means to you, how much you love him, how happy you were that he was here, now.

You open your mouth to tell him, but you’re interrupted by Dr Montgomery.

“Are you ready?” she asks from over the screen.

You pause for a moment, just staring at Santi who gives your hand another reassuring squeeze. You take a deep breath and sigh it out before looking away from him and staring up at the ceiling. You give a nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Then let’s get started,” Dr Montgomery replies, smiling before disappearing behind the partition.

It was an odd feeling, having the doctors rummage around in you. You tried to focus on anything; the feeling of Santi’s hand in yours, what Dr Montgomery was saying to her team, but the blood rushing in your ears drowned out anything and everything around you. You bite your lip, feeling your chin quiver with unshed tears and your grip on Santi’s hand tightens, threatening to never let go.

Your eyes flutter closed at you concentrate on your breathing…

Until your eyes snap open at the sudden, high-pitched sound of a baby crying fills the room.

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

[dwindlinghaze]

Hey! I loved your Andrew fic and I was wondering if I could request an Andrew fic where both him and the reader are costars, they've already acted together before in a movie and have had this great friendship and there's been a spark ever since they first met, like they know there's something more than friendship between them but they're scared to try it out. But when they're working together for their second movie, which is a romance once, they end up dating? Thank you <33

the sweetener you are

(andrew garfield x co-star reader)

hi anon!! tysm for requesting! i hope this is what u want! <3 pls don't be afraid to ask more, i love it when u guys talk to me ☁️

contents : friends to lovers, fluff, idk just rlly sweet <3 (sorry for any typos or incorrect grammars !)

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

as an actress who works in the film industry, it is a strict rule for co-stars to not fall in love with each other. mostly because it's all an act. if one thing goes wrong, then everything will probably come tumbling down.

it all started when the two of you worked together. you met the andrew garfield for a project and you two instantly clicked together.

you have always admired him. the dedication and passion he puts onto his works are incredible. so working with him is so exciting for you. he also loved your last movie. andrew told you how talented you are as an actress and he's ecstatic to finally work with you.

ever since you met, he always does small but yet sweet things for you. like he will pull out your chair, offers you his scarf if you're cold during filming, give you flowers after a tiring week of shooting, bring you your favourite drink and snacks.

you thought of it as a best friend and gentleman kind of thing because you don't want to jump into conclusions but you know there's something in there since you don't see him doing these things to other people.

he greets you with a "good morning" every day and brings you breakfast too. you told him that none of that was necessary but you accepted anyway.

andrew calls you in his free time even after the movie was finished and done. you two had grown a sweet little friendship and he enjoys talking and spending time with you, like today when you're in your dressing room, taking all of your make up off. "hello? [y/n] are you there?" his voice came from the other line. you put him on speaker so you could continue taking those make up off.

"yes, hi! do you need something, andy?" you spoke.

"why do you immediately think i'm calling you because i'm in need of something?" he joked.

"no, s'not like that," you paused to let out a laugh, "just a habit, i guess, i don't know. but do you need something though?"

"what are you doing now? hope i'm not interrupting something,"

"in my dressing room- getting ready for bed,"

"it's five in the evening,"

"and what about it!"

"i was wondering if you'd like to come to mine for a movie night, but if you need your beauty sleep then we can forget i ever said that,"

you let out a laugh, smiling in the mirror to yourself. "do i need to wear a versace dress or is a shirt fine?"

"as much as i love seeing you in a fancy dress looking like a million dollar pay-check, you in normal clothes are beautiful to me too,"

you blushed profusely, disliking the way he makes you feel but enjoying it at the same time. "i'll meet you there, is six good?"

"sure, six is fine. i'll pick you up by the way, walking alone in the streets is not worth it as much as i hate to say it. also i'm grabbing dinner for us so don't tell me that i don't have to do it,"

you smiled for the millionth time because of this man. you sometimes wonder if he's just really that nice to everyone or is it just to you. he is a kind man so it shouldn't really be a question.

"alright, see you soon!" you said before he returned the greet and ended the call. a few minutes passed and your phone lit up, andrew's message had delivered to you and he said he's outside the building.

"hello stranger, why are you in my property?" you squinted your eyes to him, biting back a smile.

"hello to you too, i'm here to pick someone named [y/n] [l/n]. do you happen to know where she is?" he played along as he opened the door of his car.

"hmm... i think she's sitting in your car," said you, getting inside his car.

"silly me, i should get my eyes checked," he said smiling before he went back to the driver's seat. "i bought us dinner by the way," his thumb pointing behind him.

you looked over to the back seat to see a pack of uncooked meal and frozen fruits. you almost laugh at how ridiculous it looks. "oh absolutely! i'm eating raw chicken, frozen lemons, and raw eggs for dinner. so amazing! i give the andrew garfield restaurant a five-star review and a five-star service!"

"now don't make fun of me! that chinese restaurant closed right before i arrived and the pizza place across the street was so packed. i was thinking we can cook together, you know i really really love your cooking," he peered over at the rearview mirror to look at your face as he emphasised the word 'love'.

"okay, fine," you agreed. the drive was short and calm, you two talked about how much the two of you had grown.

just a year ago, you met him for the first time in a movie screen test and he was a stuttering and awkward mess. he tripped over your leg when you got up from your chair, but you laughed about it now. "i was so nervous to meet you because you're like so professional and i'm just- stood there watching you say all the words in your script-" he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the ends.

when you arrived at his place, he opened the door for you to walk in and brought the grocery bag to the kitchen, setting it down. you made dinner for the both of you before settling down on the sofa to watch a movie together.

he laid beside you on the sofa, wrapping an arm around you protectively as he pulled you closer to him. you thought of this as a friendly gesture because his flat is freezing cold. he knows you're cold, so he's sharing his warmth with you, but you can't deny the fact that there's something in your stomach, like a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

the thing is, you didn't know that he's purposely making his apartment cold so he can have you close like this. he loves it when you press your cheek to his shoulder.

as the movie ended, he looked down only to see you fast asleep. he smiled down at your peaceful state, wishing the two of you have more than just a friendship (though he is grateful either way). he knew exactly what his feeling is towards you and maybe by chance he knew you felt the same way too, but the friendship you had going on was too important to him to be ruined.

he didn't realise that he's lost in his trance until he felt your head turned to the other side, your eyelids fluttering because you're dreaming so he tuck you in his bed, and turn the night light on. that night he slept on the sofa; he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.

as that routine goes on and on, the feelings between you two were sparking more and more.

one tuesday morning, you woke up to a call from liz, your manager, she told you that you got in this role for a romance movie and filming will start in two weeks. you were beyond happy to get this role because you loved how sweet and dreamy the storyline is and you're also excited to fly across the globe to film it.

it was until then that you realised your co-star is once again, andrew garfield, your best friend. you're going to be his love interest in this film. you're going to be kissing him, you're going to-

"[y/n] you're here!" the director greeted you. she smiled and waved at you, "it's really nice to see you. i'm honoured to be working with someone as brilliant as you are. i trust you in this role, i know you and andrew will have awesome chemistry to bring this to life."

"thank you! i will not disappoint i promise," you let out a small laugh. a few seconds later, andrew walked in, his presence sweet and his aura bright.

you talked together in depth about what the director wants to see in this film and how the characters are supposed to be. she's very specific so it's quite easy for you to hop on her boat and went along with her sail.

the filming went smoothly, you and andrew were so good together that sometimes the director really thought that you both are in love. well, maybe she's not entirely wrong... ?

"oh my god i'm going to kiss you in less than 45 minutes," andrew said out of the blue when the crew were taking a break for lunch. he was sitting on the floor across from you. reading the script as he casually took a large bite of his burger.

you almost choked at what he said. he said it so normally that you almost didn't catch up on what he's actually saying. "don't eat garlic or any of those sorts please," you replied, biting back a smile as you ignored the butterflies at the thought of it.

"oh i will never!" he chuckled, feeling the blood rushed into his cheeks, so scarlet it was maroon. he's excited to kiss you actually. he has been dreaming on how's it like feeling your lips against his. he knew it will be the best feeling in the world. he knows he will not regret this.

the break is over and it's time for them to... kiss?

"one, two, three, action!"

andrew placed his hand on your face, tugging it closer to him. you felt your breath hitched, the smell of him covering your nostrils. you were lost and long gone in his scent until you came back to reality when andrew pressed his lips to yours.

his tongue made its way inside your mouth and you almost broke out of character when you noticed the peppermint flavour. prior to this, he brushed his teeth profusely and ate packs of mint leaves.

his lips were incredibly soft, they moved ever so slowly with yours, you could melt. your hands went up to his hair as his went down your waist. the feeling was just like the movies. everything went in slow motion, everything is spinning around.

"cut!" the director yelled, seemingly satisfied by the shot. "awesome, [y/n], andrew!" she gave the two of you a thumbs up.

now you moved along with the script, trying to ignore the sparks in your stomach. when the scenes for the day were all finished, andrew walked you back to your dressing room. by the looks of it, he seemed like he wanted to say something.

"okay well hello," he started, clearing his throat.

"hi?" you knitted your brows as you smile at him.

"i want to tell you something actually, something i've been hiding for a while now," he said it in a low whisper, taking baby steps over your carpet.

"okay, c'mere sit with me,"

"you know the kiss? i really enjoyed it," he cringed at his words, wishing it had come out better.

you smiled, crimson creeping up your cheeks. "me too," you nodded.

"yes, well- i know this sounds truly crazy," he shook his head, closing his eyes. "but i really have to tell you that i have- feelings that i feel for you... and by this i mean like in a romantic way. i can ruin our friendship and make my comfort person despise me but i'm giving it a shot anyway."

since we've met i can't stop thinking about you. how your day is or- or how you are feeling that day. i feel like i can be myself around you, and the thing is, i'm rarely being myself. i come to you in by best days and talk to you in my worst days because i trust you. i hope you know that you can trust me too."

you stayed silent, processing what you just heard. you never thought he will confess to you, but he just did. "um [y/n]? please answer me right now because i'm freaking out."

"i feel feels too to you," now it's your turn to cringe on what you just said. "i mean- i feel the same way, i really like you. wholeheartedly."

"okay," a genuine smile spread across his face as he leaned forward to bump his nose on yours. "can we kiss now? is this the right time to kiss like in the movies?"

"sure," you laughed but your voice were quickly shut up by his lips. this time you weren't acting. you two were actually kissing off screen with real feelings behind them. this time, it was much better. he kissed you with more passion and tenderness than earlier.

he didn't want to pull apart but he did anyway as for breathing is a need to keep on living. "i never thought your lips would be so soft. not gonna lie, i'm pretty sure your lips were dry," you said jokingly, rubbing his knuckles that sat on your cheekbone.

"i use lip balm before i go to bed religiously after i found out that we're gonna kiss," he admitted. "for good impressions.."

you laughed at him, your heart practically melting underneath your ribs. "i will still like you if you have crocodile skin lips anyway," you shrugged.

"stop that," he laughed. before you know it, his lips were on yours for the third time that day, and you wouldn't want to have it in any other way.

since then, the two of you have been the happiest creatures on the planet. you always woke up to him by your side or him on top of you, completely covering you like a blanket. he will greet you with small kisses on your forehead and hold your hand whenever he can. he is the definition of a gentleman and the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for.

"morning, lovie! it's premiere day!" andrew whispered to you one morning in his apartment. you were in his arms, face hiding in his neck.

"don't wanna wake up," you mumbled. "i slept at four am yesterday, so sleepy."

"i know, love," he smiled, kissing your nose. you love those nicknames he gave you. when he calls you using pet names, your heart is like a field of blossoming flowers. "once we came back, you can be a bear hibernating throughout winter and i will stay by your side for the whole season, but now we have to get up."

"fine," you rolled over, grabbing the blanket with you so andrew is left with nothing but his pj's and the cold air around the room.

"hey you're evil!" he quickly rolled himself to a ball next to you. "i don't know why i'm dating you."

"you date me because i'm your favourite person and you're in love with me."

he chuckled, nuzzling his head to the crook of your neck. "i love you, so can you please share the blanket with me? how dare you leave your loving boyfriend shaking from the cold."

"you should really install a heater in here to avoid situations like these," you dodged him nonchalantly.

"you should really consider sharing our blanket to avoid situations like these."

"the blanket is all yours, i'm taking a shower!" you jumped up from the bed and ran to the bathroom but your steps were stopped midway when andrew pulled you back.

"i'm not letting you go from me without a kiss."

[angelofverdum]

Station 19 7x04

Are my eyes deceiving or did I just watch a good episode of Station 19? It was so depressing I loved it.

It gagged me so bad that I had to look up the writers and see if they had written other episodes for the show. Mellow Brown wrote 6x05 and this is Sybil Azur's first episode for Station. mmm hello? Why would you hide the talent?

I don't know if it is the best episode but top 3 for sure.

I said it before and I'll say it again this cast is so talented. The storylines are usually so dumb that they can't actually tap into their acting bag.

Barrett's performance has been amazing. Like the pain? Damn. Vic is always joking around and having shitty storylines but I want to know more about this Vic, like what is happening to you, mama?

I'm not Ross' biggest fan, but Merle Dandridge for sure can command a scene. I think that was one of the most difficult calls they've had ever in the show and she had the responsibility to make the audience feel that and she delivered.

I loved this episode so much that Andy was one of my favorite characters, and my relationship with her is complicated.

Some told me that they exchanged Jack for Beckett and hey I'm still bitter about how he bullied Maya but Josh Randall is an actor for real. Grey would get an aneurysm before delivering a scene like Josh did with Boris. (I know Grey's a good guy)

Theo finally did something good. I know he will probably be around but I hope not.

The pacing was perfect too.

Maya and carina are so beautiful together. The scene were Carina needs more diapers and she stops Maya, and comunicate clearly what she needs and Maya complied. Oh I need this in my life.

Every interaction was perfect.

Now, in the most userious way.

You don't understand how loud I gasped when they showed that Carina and Maya were on the same side of the bed. Half of the bed was empty, lmao Carina was all up in Maya's space. Love that for them.

I don't understand why they are wearing those shoes inside the house. I'm Latina and we used flip-flops inside the house around here, is this an American thing?

Also, Maya couldn't let her baby cry for 3 seconds, and she thought she was going to be the strict parent.

Also, Carina was tired of Maya. She was let's go right now. And the way she opened her arms like it would be a physical fight. I'm sure she can take Maya but not in a fight.

[georgiapeach30513]

A Little at a Time, Part 4

Summary:  life in Boston isn’t what you thought it would be

Pairings:  Andy Barber X Reader

Rating:  mild

Warnings:  language, mentions of cheating, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  3.4K

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*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

“Alright,” Poppy stands in front of the TV, blocking your view as she grabs up the remote, and clicks it off.  Your eyes turn up to meet her in anger.  How dare she distract your streaming.  “Enough.  Fucking enough.  You need to get off this damn couch.  You need to shower.  Clean up your shit, and get out there and get a job.”

“I have savings.  Can you hand that back, and move?” You make pitiful little grabby hands at her, puckering out your bottom lip as much as possible.  “Please.”

“No.  I don’t care that you have savings.  You’re not wasting them away because you’re laying on this couch eating…what the fuck is that?” Sitting up on the couch, you shrug, reaching for the monstrous cake you had delivered, and were just eating off it.  “Peaches, I can’t…I opened my house up to you because you needed it.  But wallowing in your self pity isn’t going to help anything.  Do you want to talk?”

“About what?” The cake was delicious.  It didn’t take any time at all to show up to your new address.  “This is delicious.  It’s birthday cake flavor.  Hey!” She grabs the fork from you, and sits on the coffee table directly in your face.  “What?”

“You broke up with your fiance.”

“Yeah, well, he was cheating on me.  Seemed like the most logical thing to do,” you take a deep gulp, and look in your lap.  “What was I supposed to do?  And now, everyone in town hates me.  I’m the bad guy.  I’m the one who knew what he was doing.  I ignored the signs, because I really wanted to have my perfect wedding.  And I…well, I have been refusing sex from him, but according to everyone else I was fucking Lee every chance I could.”

“Hmm,” Poppy sighs, looking at you, “Your perfect wedding, but not your perfect marriage,” your face turns up in pain as you let your tears fall from your eyes.  She was right.  You were so focused on that stupid wedding, you didn’t take into consideration how your relationship was failing.  You would have ended up divorced in a couple of years.  

“Did…you don’t have to answer,” she says calmly, reaching for your hand, “Did you want to wait for marriage because it was Cole, and you thought that your virginity would make him not stray?  Or is it what you really wanted?” You shrug your shoulders, because you weren’t sure anymore.  “Or is it because that’s what good girls do?  You know, there’s nothing wrong with sex.  There’s nothing wrong with waiting on the right person, or the right time.  You’ll know when you know.  And your sex life is nobody’s business but yours and your partners.  Cole was the one bringing others into your sex life.”

“I shouldn’t have…I mean, if I had sex with him, we could have been together.”

“Honey, sex won’t make a man not stray.  If he’s going to shove his cock in someone, he’s going to do just that.  No amount of you withholding was going to change that.  If you gave in, who’s to say he wouldn’t just go off with another woman anyways?  Why are you blaming yourself?  Cole did this.  Not you.  You were faithful, and he wasn’t.  That’s on him.  Now, I get your need to mourn the relationship that you thought it was.  But you can’t keep living like this.  You don’t even get out, you’re using the perks of being in a city and having everything delivered.  And you stink.”

You start laughing, despite the tears that create saline trails down your face.  Using your palm to wipe them away, “I don’t.”

“You do.  Take a shower.  If you want ice cream, or food, get out and go get it.  You’re not the first person to go through a breakup.  And you know, if ever there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m here.”

“Our situations are different, Poppy.”

“He took something from you,” you shake your head no, still refusing to believe what you knew to be true.  It made things too real.  “You did not consent to that.  He is the one who messed up, not you.  Our situations are different, but I’ll listen,” leaning forward, you wrap your arms around her holding her tight.  “Remember, you came here to start a new life.  Don’t be afraid to start living.  But seriously, you stink.”

There were so many choices of ice cream.  Much more than your local grocery store.  You stand there dumbfounded, looking down the aisle.  You had barely even looked at the selection they had.  Cartons, half gallons, pints, bars, popsicles.  Too many choices, and no Mayfield ice cream.  

Taking a step further down the aisle didn’t help.  Weird flavors.  Where was the one that was like a death by chocolate?  You look up at the ceiling, feeling your emotions get the better of you.  It wasn’t the overwhelming feeling of choosing ice cream, it was just being overwhelmed in general.  This was nothing like living in Georgia.  

You step to the side when a man opens the cooler, reaching in for a pint, and he cocks his head up to look at you, “Are you okay?”

“No.  There’s too many choices.  And I just want to drown myself in chocolate.  It’s colder here.  There’s no humidity, and everyone has an accent, and…” righting your head, you turn to look at him, and get more embarrassed.  He was handsome.  And he wasn’t even looking at you like a crazy person.  He was looking at you as if he understood.

“And I’m making a fool of myself.  I’m sorry, I’m just…I’m gonna go.”

“What about your ice cream?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Uh,” he walks down the aisle a bit more, grabbing up a pint to hand to you, “And, might I suggest going to the end of this aisle.  They have hot fudge, salted caramel, sprinkles, cookie crumbs, whatever you need.  Cherries.  You like cherries?”

“No.  I don’t like what cherries represent.  I hate myself,” you groan.  You were ready to get out of here, and quit showing your ass to this man.  He didn’t know you, and most likely he was going to be glad to be rid of you.

“I don’t know what that means, but if you’re not into this shipped ice cream, there’s a neat little shop a couple of miles from here.  They make ice cream in house.  They have the weird flavors, but also just your classic.  They make these macaron ice cream sandwiches.  I went there a lot after my divorce.”

“You?  Someone divorced you?” He chuckles, nodding his head.  You were unapologetically you.  You didn’t seem to have much of a filter, and whatever you were thinking came out of your mouth.  “Well, what flavor would you suggest?”

“You said chocolate?  They do have a red velvet one, but personally if you’re wanting chocolate, they’ve got one that will rot your teeth out.  It’s chocolate ice cream, with swirls of dark chocolate peanut butter, pieces of chocolate cake, chocolate ganache, chocolate sprinkles, and…I think that’s it.”

“What other chocolate thing could you want?”

“Well,” the man laughs, walking down the aisle, and you are drawn to him.  You wanted to hear this story, but also stay close to him.  “I also asked them to put Nutella and Oreos in it.  Adds a bit more of a texture to it.”

“Sounds like a bowl of…”

“Lots of chocolate.  You want the address?”

“Yes!”

“Breakup?”

“Yeah.  Of epic proportions.  I’m stupid.”

“Not from around here, I gather?” It wouldn’t take much to give away how you weren’t from here.  All you had to do was open your mouth, and you had that long southern drawl.  “I hope the ice cream helps.  Here, let me take this pint, and you go ahead and get the real deal.  Ask for the Andy special, and they’ll jazz up the Trunchbull.”

“What?”

“It’s a Matilda thing.  Lots of chocolate,” giving you a quick wink, you smile at him.  It was a shy smile, but it was there.  

You ponder in front of the wine selection, knowing little to nothing about wine.  You weren’t that big of a drinker.  Every day that you left the house, you realized how big this city was.  Where you came from was a dry county, and could hardly find any decent amount of alcohol without being judged anyways.

Going to Woody’s was this unspoken secret.  It was on the outskirts of town, and if people saw you there, they didn’t mention it.  Boston, nobody cared.  It was like you were responsible for you, and people left you alone.  It was refreshing.  Nobody here knew you, and didn’t care how you grew up.

“Here,” the ice cream man says, coming up beside you.  Grabbing a bottle of red wine to hand to you.  “Brunello di Montalcino.  Great breakup wine.”

You stare at him a moment, noticing just how brilliantly blue his eyes were, before bashfully looking away, “How was the ice cream?”

“Chocolate coma,” you giggle, looking over the wine.  “I got the Andy special.  That you?” He nods his head, and you quickly offer him your own name.  “So what’s special about this wine?”

“Just gets you in your feels.  Perfect if someone chea…well, it’s good.  Play you some music, drink your wine slowly.  Get in your feels and just…have you tried crying?”

“A few times.  Self loathing, uh, ate my weight in chocolate, partly in thanks to you.  Spent too much money on food delivery.  Let’s see, blocked his number.  Screaming.  Screaming helps.  Unblocked his number.  Tried to twist my ring around on my finger, just to remember it wasn’t there anymore.  Did I mention screaming?”

“Yeah, a couple of times,” Andy wasn’t sure why you were so personable, but it was adorable.  You weren’t even offering him a one night stand.  You were just you.  Rambled on a bit, but you weren’t closed off even the tiniest amount.  “Married?”

“Engaged.  Broke up the night of my bachelorette party, if you could call it that.  My cousin, she held a…I can’t tell you that.  She was very mad.  Angry.  Dogs get mad, people get angry.  That’s what my Memaw always says.  You know, I don’t even miss him.”

“So what’s the wine for?”

“I’m pissed off that I wasted time on him.  Thank goodness, we didn’t have a baby.  I would have been trapped with him.  It’s like waking up and realizing that the past few years have been a lie.  A lie you told yourself, your family, the world…well, the town.  Mad at yourself because even though you weren’t happy, you forced yourself to be happy, because….”

“It’s just easier,” you look over towards Andy, and give him the first genuine, non tearful smile you could muster.  “I can tell you, it’s much easier on the other side.  Lying to yourself and everyone around you is a lot of work.  It could always be worse.”

“That’s what my Papaw told me the day I left Georgia.  It could.  I could have given it all up to him, and not feel good about myself,” you and your word vomit.  It was utterly ridiculous how you could talk to this stranger easier than you could your own fiance.  “I’m sorry, Andy.  I’m going to go drink this expensive bottle of wine, and let me drown in my sorrows.”

“No, you’re going to get in your feels.  You’re going to let…Taylor Swift?”

“Eh, she’s not bad, but I really like some Zach Bryan, Tyler Childers, Cody Jinks, Colter Wall?”

“No idea who they are.  Just, get in your feels.  Let the wine and music take over, and keep his number blocked.  You moved a long way to forget him,” Andy was right.  Giving him a wave goodbye, you head to check out, and Andy stares far too long watching you retreat.

He hopes that there was going to be another chance to randomly run into you, just so he could talk to you again.  He didn’t want to be too forward and ask for your number, although it is really what he wanted to do.  He held out hope that he would run into you again, and the next time, he was going to ask for your number.

“Poppy!” You whine, slamming your head into your arms.  It was way too loud in this bar.  She drug you along, even in your baggy sweats and hoodie.  She was working, so you didn’t know why you needed to be here anyways.  It was pointless.  You would much rather be binge watching your favorite show, drinking the rest of your expensive wine, and you had another Andy’s special in the freezer.

“I don’t want to be here,” you say, curling yourself even more into a ball, and right at the bar.

“Would you stop it,” she hisses.  You were such a baby when it came to going out at night.  “You are embarrassing.  I thought it would be nice for you to get out, and meet some people.”

“At a bar?”

“Yeah, it’s what some people call fun.”

“I’m not fun.  I want ice cream and Dean Winchester, is that so hard to understand?” Poppy rolls her eyes, walking to the other end of the bar to take someone’s order.  You were infuriating.  You had at least started showering regularly again.  Migrated into your bedroom instead of in the living room where she had to look at your pitiful self.

“What’ll it be Andy?” She asks, already filling up his glass, and placing it on the bar. Jolting her hip out to stare at him.  “Why are you here?” He shrugs his shoulders, his eyes scanning around the bar.  “Who are you looking for?”

“Just some girl.  She’s new in town.  I keep running into her, and…” he stops when he sees you slumped over on the bar.  He couldn’t be sure if that was you, but whoever that girl was, she was not in a happy place.  She was miserable.  

“No,” Poppy answers shortly.  She shakes her head, rapidly in disagreement.  It’s not that she didn’t like Andy, and in fact you and Andy made perfect sense, but it was the fact that you were still not over Cole.  “That is my cousin,” she mentions your name, and Andy perks up.  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What did I do?”

“You’re the Boston asshole she keeps running into?”

“She called me an asshole?” Furrowing his brows, he looks down at the bar.  Poppy had hurt his feelings, and it actually didn’t have anything to do with you.  “I didn’t mean…I was just…”

“I’m calling you the asshole.  She just said you were hot and nice,” just as quickly as his face had fallen, he gets the biggest smile, and Poppy hits his shoulder.  “No.”

“What did I do?”

“You’re a man.  She’s…different.  She’s special.  Not like any of these girls at the bar willing to go home with the first man, and wanting a one night stand.”

“I don’t want a one night stand.”

“She’s as sweet as her nickname suggests.  Peach Blossom is a baby.  She’s never been out of her hometown, she just recently broke up with a serial cheater, she’s not in a good place.  I haven’t seen her smile since she’s been here.  She needs time, Andy.  She doesn’t need someone like you oozing in your tentacles, promising her big things that you can’t ever fulfill, because you’re a man.”

“That’s so nice of you, Pops.  I’m glad you think I ooze.  And by the way, I’ve seen her smile,” Poppy looks over at you, and you are leaning over the bar, trying to get a bottle of beer, but James the bartender slaps your hand, and gives you one himself.  “You know me.  If she needs time, I can back away.  I’m not like other men.”

“You’ve moved on, and she hasn’t.  When I tell you that she’s different, she’s different.  Just…”

“I’ve got it.  I’ll back off.  Especially now that I know where to find her.  You can’t keep her locked away forever.  I’m just asking for a date.  And honestly, who would you rather her be with?  Me, or any of these other men here?  Look, there’s Sy getting him another one for the weekend.  Would you look at that, Jax with two women.  I came here to look for her specifically.  And I will leave, walk away, and wait for her, when she is ready.  You brought her to a bar, and she looks miserable.  At least at the grocery store, she was comfortable enough to talk to me.  She smiled, and it’s the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.”

Poppy purses her lips, while she stares at you.  You were in fact miserable.  Had your hood on your head, and hands in your pocket, while you stared at the top shelf liquor.  You never were a fan of bars, or going on.  You much preferred something quiet, and staying in.  Just like Andy.  He only came here after his divorce.

He only drowned his sorrows in booze after he learned of Laurie’s infidelity.  Telling Poppy he was just happy they never had a kid together.  Andy had a good job.  He was a good man.  He would have done anything for Laurie.  Stayed with her for far too long, even though it was a loveless marriage.  But cheating on him with his best friend, he couldn’t forgive.  

Of all the men that Poppy had met in Boston, Andy was the best.  It was almost as if Cole cheating on you, had brought you here and on a pathway to meet Andy.  The only person you had even mentioned talking to was the very man that was sitting in front of Poppy telling her that he would wait until you were ready.  

“Andy, I’m not going to tell you no anymore.  I’m going to say, let things naturally happen how they will.  I’m also going to tell her to go home because she wants to finish off the bottle of wine that the hot man picked out for her, and watch Supernatural.  I’m going to let her do that, and to quit pushing her to get out there.  It seems she already has.  Just don’t…don’t push her.  She already had a man in her life that did that.  She won’t be getting another one.  She’s special.  She’s younger than me, and I always wished I could be just like her.”

“And I’m going to leave the rest of my beer here, and I’m going to go home, and work on a case.  Give me a minute to leave.”

You take a swig of the beer, and set it down.  Pushing it away from you in distaste.  It wasn’t what you wanted.  You didn’t even want to be here.  You wanted to daydream about the hot man you kept running into, while your favorite show played in the background.  Focusing on Poppy when she finally stands in front of you, “Peach Blossom, go home.  I probably won’t see you until tomorrow morning, but you don’t have to be here.  I’m not going to drag you around anymore.”

“Really?”

“Really.  You’ve been slowly getting out, and trying.  I still want your goal to be finding a job.  There’s a local daycare that is in need of a Pre-K teacher.  There’s a start,” you nod your head, pressing your hands on the bar before pushing your stool back.  “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right, I needed to get out.  Getting out wasn’t so bad,” you smirk, and Poppy is now well aware exactly why.  She definitely approves, and is thankful it wasn’t some Masshole that had got your attention, but someone like Andy Barber.  Smiling because you two really did make sense.  And Andy now knows how to get in touch with you.

“Have fun with Dean Winchester,” you wave your hand, and turn to leave.  Thankful that you didn’t have to pretend anymore.  You could relax, and think.  Think of a life where you had met Andy before Cole.  Think of a life where Andy was actually interested in you, and didn’t just think you were crazy and heartbroken.  And then there were visions of Dean.  It was shaping up to be a nice Friday evening.

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[bitter69uk]

“She had a face that was so striking you had the choice of whether to call her beautiful or ugly. I happened to love the way she looked, and I was impressed by all the references she kept dropping to literature and politics. She talked constantly and she had the most tiresome voice I’d ever heard – it was incredible to me that one woman’s voice could convey so much tedium … We all loved Viva; we’d never seen anything like her, and from then on, it was just taken for granted that she’d be in whatever movie we did. She was funny, stylish and photogenic and she gave great interviews … And if a good way to get around the censors was to confuse them, then Viva was perfect for the times, because when she took her clothes off, there was always the question of whether her bony body was a turn-on or -off – the “prurience” was really in question there.”

/ Andy Warhol reminiscing about his leading lady Viva in his 1980 memoirs POPism: The Warhol Sixties /

Born on this day 86 years ago: superbly deadpan, often naked Warhol Superstar and long-term denizen of New York’s bohemian Chelsea Hotel (she now resides in Palm Springs) - Viva (née Janet Susan Mary Hoffmann, 23 August 1938)! I vividly recall watching her in Warhol’s perverse 1968 underground Western Lonesome Cowboys (pictured) at The Scala Cinema in the early nineties. (At the beginning, the theatre was full. By the bitter end, there was only a hardcore of us left!). Outside of Warhol’s films, Viva impressed me as the heavily pregnant groupie Kris Kristofferson picks up in Cisco Pike (1972) and I particularly treasure Viva’s cameo appearance in 1982 cult oddity Forbidden Zone, in which she delivers with peerless nonchalance the killer line, “See you guys later – I need to change a Tampax.”

[oneshotnewbie]

Cancer story 3 part pls?

Authors note: It's relatively short, but it's also the end of this little mini-series that you guys convinced me to write. Thank you so much for reading ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

Death.

Andy Herrera had always underestimated it despite her losses. She had not wanted to admit that it could just rip you out of her life in this short time, never could have known that Mondays goodbye hug was the last she would ever get from you again.

The tough Latina has never been so unprepared by this dark force as with you. All the people who had died in her environment so far had given her time to prepare for it.

Her father had known from the start that cancer would take his life; the doctors had already given up on him. The brunette had not wanted to accept it, but deep down she had understood that Pruett was going to die; he had been able to use the last few weeks to say goodbye to his entire team.

Your chances of surviving this troublesome illness however, had been very good lately. Your chemotherapy had ended, the cancer even had regressed and your energy had slowly returned. But your body was too weak and eventually failed under the pressure of strain your system had to endure.

A shiver ran through her body and made her tremble briefly. Chilled air rushed incessantly through the open window into her living room and still, she could not breathe.

Andy could not tell how long she had been laying on the hard parquet floor just staring at the white ceiling that seemed to come closer with every faltering breath and she could hardly imagine anything more liberating at that moment, than being crushed by the ceiling that would push the pain out of her.

Her cell phone rang for the thousandth time somewhere on the coffee table. She had not touched it in days, failed to show up to work, had not spoken to anyone. The fire-woman just wanted to lay here and feel sorry for herself.

The Latina knew that while her friends on Station19 were struggling with the loss themselves, they were the ones most worried about her. Maya, Vic and Carina were afraid for her, but she could not take their condolences.

She did not wanted to be reconfirmed that you were gone for good, could not even bear to hear your name.

It had all been so sudden, without any premonitions. She remembered exactly how she had picked you up from the hospital on the decisive day a week ago and taken you to the station where you had spent your day together with everyone else.

You were so happy with the information that the cancer was on the mend and you were bubbling with new life energy. The color of your otherwise pale face returned to a silky shade of pink while a smile had been timid and constant on your lips.

Only the next day, when she could not reach you and you had not shown up at her workplace, did she make her way to your apartment to check on things. Her slightly shuffling but deliberate steps defined themselves on the steps in the stairwell before her hand thundered against your apartment door.

But no one opened and the worst assumptions had nested in her mind. When she did not get a message from you in the evening either, she called the police, who took pity on her and drove to your apartment to look around.

Andy had previously sat tensely with Maya and Carina in their apartment, staring at the clock and waiting impatiently when the call from the official, which she no longer remembered the name, she received at exactly 1:04am, knocked the ground from under her feet and let her collapse.

The friendly policeman had been silent on the other end of the phone for an unusual long time, finding it difficult to deliver the sad news to her- they found you dead in your bed.

The autopsy later revealed that you must have died the night before. The officer had assured Andy, that you fell asleep peacefully as usual, except that you would never wake up again. Your heart had stopped beating, as if it had suddenly gotten tired and had forgotten what its job was.

Since then she had been stunned, regularly wiping the stray tears from the corners of her eyes that threatened to trickle down her cheeks. Frantically, she pushed the pain to the farthest corner and buried it under total emptiness.

It was incomprehensible that you were no longer among them. Did she miss your nature, your endless humor, the indescribable smile and laughter that filled this apartment almost every day. She closed her eyes as she thought about it, her body wincing while her hands clenched into fists.

Andy Herrera's heart was pounding angrily, emotional and full of pain.

Her lips pressed into a forming line as her shaky breath caught in her throat, trying to control her emotions. But she could not keep that expression for long; soon the corners of her mouth turned down while her eyes began to shimmer.

As the first tear slipped from her eyes after several hours, she realized a tremor in her body before letting out a heartbreaking sob. The brunette turned her head, now laying sideways on the floor and looking towards the wall. Her whole body tensed and she swallowed hard at the picture of the two of you together.

"I miss you, Y/n" she croaked softly, her voice hoarse from days of silence.

The Latina felt her throat tighten, breathing became increasingly difficult. You were so damn important to her, had been everything to her. But now you got snatched away from her and it was irreversible.

At some point, the annoying ringing stopped and Andy was alone with herself and the lonely silence around her. Trembling finger slid along the discrete grooves of the floor as water pooled on the lower lid of her eye, threatening to collapse yet again.

The brunettes cheeks glowed and cooled slightly only from the coldness of her tears, which slowly rolled down her face and pooled on the outer parts of her contoured face, where they lost their grip and disappeared into her unwashed, frizzy hair.

She suppressed the thoughts about her loss, although it was so omnipresent in the air and would never fade away. Death was irrevocable and nothing would ever bring you back to her. Nothing.

You were gone.

[sparkledfirecracker]

Chapter one: The Kiss

Summary: Could an innocent date turn into more?

Pairing: CEO!Andy Barber x female reader

Word count: 3742

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit language, mild mention of sexual harassment in a work setting, slow burn, fluff, no smut (I know who the hell am I?), kissing/make-out.

A/N: 18+ only, please respect that. My first add-on to the wonderful collab with @chase-your-dreams-away​ and the adventure of our gym bro shenanigans. Also my entry for her lovely 800 followers challenge. The prompt given is still to come, I couldn’t fit it into this first chapter. It’s a mild slow burn and yes, even I’m surprised by it. Smut will be delivered eventually, patience!

Not beta-read, all mistakes are my own.

Divider by @firefly-graphics​ and moodboard by @chase-your-dreams-away​.

Comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated!

I do not consent to have my works copies, reposted or translated on any other platform. Reposts on any given platform have been posted without my permission or consent. 

BY CLICKING ON KEEP READING YOU AGREE TO BE 18+ OR OVER!!

Excitement coursed your body with the outlook of having the afternoon off. It was Andy’s regular day off, so it wouldn’t interfere with your boss’s schedule. You had been looking forward to this date but hadn’t enjoyed the interrogations from Nathalie and Tess throughout the morning. It was none of their business who you were seeing. Work and privacy were two things that needed to be strictly separated, at least in your opinion.

You had been thankful that Andy hadn’t loaded your desk with too much work. Just some emails and a few documents to file. You scoffed at the sight of Ransom Drysdale’s name, wondering why Andy would keep the creep around. He was a liability to the company, touching up ladies and being completely reckless in his actions without taking any responsibility for them. 

Walking towards the water station, you let your thoughts wander. It hadn’t been rare for you and Ransom to have verbal arguments. You let out a giggle thinking back to Andy telling you both off. His demand had been adamant - you and Ransom had to stop the nonstop bickering. The both of you pretended to try but rarely succeeded. 

Sexual harassment was a real issue. Unfortunately, some of the investments into the organization made came from the Drysdale household. Giving Ransom all the freedom he needed to stick around for as long as he did. 

You hadn’t paid attention to the water overflowing your refillable water bottle. According to Steve, it was an environmentally friendly reinforcement and an important executive decision. In his effort to figure out a way not to pollute the environment as much.

Sometimes you wanted Steve to shut up as his ideas could get out of hand a little bit, but he was one of Andy’s best friends. Having met each other during their college days and stayed good friends as the years progressed. At least Steve had always been much better company than Ransom or any of the other guys.

You scrunched up your nose in disgust, thinking of the overheard conversations about illegally fucking a girl on the job. Or only being able to talk about anything fitness related. Having caught Johnny and Colin having a pissing contest whose biceps were bigger. Only to have Curtis join in and shame them all. Ending in long conversations about what exercises the two knuckleheads had to do to get biceps like Curtis. 

“Earth to the secretary.” 

Shaking your head, getting out of your trance and noticing the water pooling at your feet. Quickly shutting the tap and meeting Natahlie’s gaze. 

“Oh Jesus, what a day already.” You mustered in the sight that had unfolded beneath you while you had let your thoughts wander. 

“Where’s your head at?”

“Nowhere.” You wanted to hit yourself on the head for replying suspiciously fast.

“What are you up to?” Nathalie asked.

“Nothing. Work.”

“You know what I mean. I saw your name crossed off the lunch list. You never take time off, especially on days when Andy’s off.” Nathalie didn’t seem to want to let go of the topic. “In your words, you love the silence and peace.”

“I have too many extra hours to catch up on.” You shrugged, grabbing a cloth from a kitchen cupboard and throwing it on the floor. Your heel tried to wipe up the spilt liquid. The pencil skirt was too tight for you to bend down. 

“Oh, spill the beans,” Tess huffed, nudging Nathalie’s shoulder. “She’s probably just going on a date.” 

You stiffened at Tess’s assumption and rolled your eyes. Nathalie’s eyes grew bigger while stopping Tess in her tracks and frantically pointing at you. 

“Oh shit, she is. She is going on a date. Finally, my baby has grown up,” Nathalie cheered. The melodramatics felt exaggerated and unnecessary. “Who is it?” 

“No one you know, if that’s what you’re wondering.” 

“Name.” 

“Can't remember. I would have to look it up in the app.”

“You used a dating app?” Tess questioned, making you groan. “What’s his name? Where does he live? We want you safe.” 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be safe. It’s a museum date.” You smiled, receiving a few awes and kissing sounds. The ping of your phone went off. Glancing at the screen. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you later.’

Heat coursed through your body while reading the sweet message. He was just as excited as you were. You knew about his feelings. He had vocalised them well enough on multiple occasions. Although your last failed relationship was still in the back of your mind. Never being treated the way you deserved, but with this man, it felt different. He was willing to go the extra mile and treat you in a way you had never experienced before. 

“He’s called Stephen.” Nathalie grinned. You scoffed at the privacy intrusion but were thankful for how he was saved on your phone. “It isn’t a bad cover-up name for Rogers, right?”

“Gross.” You scrunched your nose in disgust.

Without any more words, you grabbed your water bottle and left the wet cloth on the floor. Nathalie shouted a verbal apology after you started to walk away and back to the upper level. 

Annoyed at Nathalie’s behaviour you sat behind your desk. They could not ever know what was happening. They should’ve minded their own business instead of sticking their noses up in yours. Shrugging off the annoyance, you dove into the final few tasks of the day.

As the alarm on your phone went off, you cleared up your desk by making sure no files were in sight and locked away. You grabbed your bag and made your way down the stairs towards the locker rooms. 

After a quick change and freshening up, you took a final glance in the mirror. Twirling from side to side if the chosen outfit accentuated all the right parts of your body. A nervous smile played on your face, breathing deeply in and exhaling out the bubbling anxiety. Everything was going to be fine, it all would work out. The worst part would probably be eventually, having to resign from a job you had come to love and one you appreciated a lot.

Nerves were overtaking you when you stood in front of the steps. Your eyes scanned the crowd, hopeful to see that one familiar face you were waiting on. The Museum of Fine Arts had been his choice and one you had always wanted to go to but never been able to. 

Nervously you glanced at your watch. Maybe he was running late. Deciding to check your phone to see if he had messaged you. No notifications when you tapped on the screen. Anxiety bubbled to the surface again and you started walking back and forth. The possible thought of others staring at you, the poor hopeless girl, getting stood up by her date.

Trying to shake the intrusive thought from your mind you tried to focus on the fallen leaves on the floor. Counting them as you paced past. Your head cocked up as you heard your name being called out. The familiarity of the voice instantly warmed you up inside. 

“I’m so sorry, I waited in line to get our tickets sorted and then my booking didn’t go through. It was a nightmare.” The word vomit immediately made you feel at ease, he was just as nervous as you were. 

“It’s okay, Andy.” The warmth of his hug made you melt into him. 

“No, it’s not, I’m so sorry. I could’ve at least sent you a message.” Andy apologized again, breaking the contact between you both. His wooded smell filled your nostrils and wanting nothing more than to smell him all day. “Let’s go, because we have a lot to see. I’m excited.”

You smiled at his vulnerable statement, adoring his openness and not hiding his feelings from you. A spark jolted through your body as he grabbed your hand, guiding you towards the entrance. 

Andy hadn’t been able to contain his excitement while guiding you through the museum. His outstanding knowledge of the museum and its artefacts made you wonder why you had refused to go on an earlier date with him. You knew why, but it seemed to be an excuse not to get hurt by yet another man. 

You rounded a corner, the low-lighted room made you stop in your tracks. One of your favourite paintings hanging on the wall. 

“If I’m correct, this is one of your favourite paintings.” Andy glanced your way taking in your awed expression. “Renoir, 1883.”

“Dance at Bougival.” You both spoke in unison, a slight warmth washing over you. The view of the painting gave you chills. Not quite being able to grasp why it was making you feel the way it did. The elegant way the woman held on to the man or how maybe it was the way the man leaned into the woman held firmly in his arms. Or was it the people in the back minding their business while the couple danced away the afternoon?

“Renoir had a thing for capturing intricate details of contemporary fashions. Just look at the woman’s red bonnet trimmed with purple fruits. Another open-air cafe in suburban Bougival - the floor littered with cigarettes, burnt matches, and a small bouquet. The touch placement of their hands and intimate proximity suggest a sensuous subtext to the scene.” Andy rambled on while pointing out all the different details on the decorated canvas. 

“Dance with me?” It came out like a question, one you hadn’t intended to be a question. Your eyes grew at the realisation of having asked the question out loud. 

Without hesitation, Andy whisked an arm around your waist while the other grabbed your hand. For a second, you both mirrored the dancing pose of the painted couple. Andy portrayed the man with the straw hat while you posed as the young woman with the red hat. 

An intimate moment shared, the proximity allowing you to feel Andy’s rapid heartbeat. The fact that he still was just as nervous as you were settling some intrusive thoughts you had been trying to push at the back of your mind. You turned your head. His lips brushed against yours for a split second. Watching his jaw clench, holding back on something you both seemed to desire. With a final twirl, he spun you away from his body, bowing down at you as if to thank you for this lovely dance.

Firsthand embarrassment was felt when a few people in the room clapped at your spontaneous moment. You wanted to hide away and run out of the room, but Andy stopped you just in time. His arm wrapped around you, holding you firmly against his side. One of your palms pressed into his chest while you both giggled at your escapade. 

“I miss being this in love. It’s good to see romance isn’t lost yet. You’re such a cute couple.” An older lady spoke nodding her head as if to approve of you both. 

“We ar-” 

“Thank you very much.” Andy’s lips pursed together as he nodded back towards the old lady. “But we must get going, otherwise we’ll be late for the next surprise.”

Confusion was written all over your face, as Andy strode out of the room. 

“Why did you do that? We’re not, this is-”

“We would’ve been stuck in that room for another hour if you had said we weren’t together.”

“The woman looked harmless.”

“And she also looked like one who would tell you that you’re wasting your time being single.”

You both laughed, walking towards the other wing of the building. The exhibition hall came into sight as Andy made his way to the entrance. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am.” You confessed. “Very happy.”

The exhibition poster informed you about Italian Romanticism. Italian paintings were an ode to your art-loving obsession. The delicacy and the attention to detail never made you get bored of any of it. Just sitting in front of a painting for hours, getting lost in the world being portrayed. A loud gasp filled the air and you were quick to cover your mouth. You looked over at Andy and he just gave you one of his infamous lopsided smiles, motioning for the empty bench. 

“What attracts you to this painting so much?” Andy asked, you kept silent for a few seconds debating if you should share the intimate answer with him. 

“I adore the simplicity of this painting.” You avoided his gaze, but from the corner of your eyes, you knew he was intrigued. “The subtle touch that captures a passionate gesture between two lovers.”

“Huh.” Andy’s head tilted to the side as if he was surprised by the answer and had never really thought about it that way.

Minutes of comfortable silence filled the room, just the two of you staring at the painting and both having a mutual appreciation for art. Both your heads tilted to observe the techniques used, watching the way the swipes of the paintbrush left delicate traces on the canvas. 

Once again intrusive thoughts weaselled their way into your brain. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, keeping from exploding at the thought of what it would feel like if Andy kissed you that way. How one finger would perfectly cup your cheek while his thumb would rest on your chin. A passionate gesture of eager desire. 

The way his other hand would hold the back of your head as his lips lingered over yours, feeling the bristles of his beard gently tickle your skin. His ocean-blue eyes turning into a pool of lustful waves from desired emotions before pressing his lips against yours with a fiery passion. 

The rapid flow of thoughts bouldered through your mind like an unstoppable train. Only coming back to reality when Andy shook your shoulder lightly calling out your name. 

“Sorry?”

“Lost in thought?”

“Yes, it’s what paintings do to me. They allow me to drown in stories and questions, making me fall down this rabbit hole of thoughts.”

“I love when that happens. It’s what art is supposed to be, it has to make you feel something.”

You simply nodded, agreeing to everything Andy added to this visit. The two of you wandered around the museum, making sure to have seen everything and losing track of time. Giggling at the announcement of the museum closing soon. Lost in conversations of art, discussions about artists and their problematic history. There was much more to Andy than you had anticipated and it felt new and exciting. 

Ending up at the exit gathering your coats from the wardrobe and heading your way outside. As soon as the fresh air hit, Andy started to fidget a little. He seemed nervous again like he did when he met you outside earlier. 

“Just spit it out, Andy.” You were preparing for the worst where he would tell you he hated every bit of the date and didn’t want to do this again. Preparing for a break-up while not being fully involved yet. The heartache already felt inside your chest. An uncomfortable rhythm of beats thumping inside your ribcage. Another disappointment in the dating scene. “It’s okay if you hated every second of it. It was nice going as friends.”

You rushed through your words, looking up at his stunned expression. A desperate need to want to get out of there and your feet bolted at the thought. Only to be held back by a hand firmly gripping your elbow. 

Your body was flung back, crashing into his chest. His mouth inches away from yours. Again you noticed the calculated jaw clench. His hot breath caused goosebumps to run down your spine. While his eyes kept glancing between your eyes and your lips. For a moment hopeful that he would go the extra mile and just kiss you like you had imagined he would. 

The softness of his lips almost to be felt but instead, another disappointment washed over you when he stepped back. An immediate rush of cold air ran between your separated bodies, making you miss his warmth. 

“Do you want to grab something to eat?” He asked, awkwardly stuffing his hands inside his pocket like a teenager.

It wasn’t a question you had expected. But it certainly wasn’t a question you were mad about. Surprising would’ve been a better explanation of how to feel. 

“Yes.” You nodded and without any hesitation, almost sure he had pumped a clenched victory fist inside his pocket before grabbing your hand with the other and dragging you along.

“Before I assume anything. Did you come by bike?”

“I don’t always cycle everywhere, Mr. Barber.”

“Very formal of you,” Andy laughed. “I’m taking that as a no.”

“That would be correct.”

A wide smile appeared on his face. It was a rarity, Andy never smiled. You hadn’t seen it often, at least not at work. But the fuzzy feeling in your stomach made you smile shyly. You wanted to jump for joy and squeal, but you had to keep it together. Squealing like a schoolgirl could be done behind doors later with no Andy in sight. 

“How does a lobster roll sound?” 

“I never had one.”

Andy stopped right in his tracks. Almost too shocked to even say something, gulping like a fish himself. 

“You what?”

“I never ever had a lobster roll.” 

“We’re going to fix that. I know the best place in town.”

It hadn’t been a far walk, but you had been thankful for being able to sit down. Your feet had been sore from strolling through the museum. 

Andy had gotten himself in line to get you both a roll. He seemed so excited to be able to share this first experience with you. One he hadn’t been anticipating. It had settled your worries from earlier that he might not have been enjoying himself.

Collected by your own thoughts, you sat up straight at the thud in front of you. Watching the glass of white wine being placed in front of you. Meeting Andy’s wide smile. 

“Had to bribe the owner to let me take this outside.”

“Bribe? Well, I didn’t take you for a crook.” You giggled, accepting the small plate he handed you. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He taunted, only making you more curious.

The sliced pickles and stacked potato chips made up the decor. The warm filled bun smell was incredible. Making you excited to try it out.

You hadn’t noticed that Andy had been staring when you took your first bite. It wasn’t until you opened your eyes and were met with his hopeful blue eyes that you nodded as you chewed. A lame thumbs up followed as you couldn’t chew as quickly to give him a worded reply. 

“What?”

“You got something on your cheek.” Andy smiled.

The rare trait slowly was growing on you. It felt nice to know that you had been the source of his smile. You leaned into his touch a little as he wiped your cheek with a napkin. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” 

Dinner had been so delicious. The tender and sweet lobster was placed inside the buttered-toasted bun. A certain simplicity to the dish, but you loved every second of it. You both had eaten in silence, with an occasional ask if the other was enjoying their food or wine. The chamblis had been a nice pick on Andy’s part for sure, matching the seafood tones nicely. He had warmed your heart with every stolen glance. If you had to describe the feeling, he would be a rock on solid ground. 

Andy Barber was going to be trouble to your heart, soul and body.  

You stood in front of your door. Keys fumbling in your hand, looking at Andy once again. Not really knowing what to say and how to act. You truly enjoyed yourself on this date and hopefully, he would want to repeat it one day. 

“Thank you for today.”

“My pleasure.” 

“I enjoyed myself.”

“I did too.”

“Get home safely.” 

Andy nodded and he turned around. It had been your queue to turn around, fumbling with the keys to finally fit into the lock. Twisting the lock and opening your door. You looked over your shoulder finding Andy debating something. 

“Are you okay?”

Your question startled him, and without blinking an eye he charged your way with large steps. Making you crash into your own door. Air left your lungs at the impact. Andy’s palms rested beside your head while his lips hovered over yours. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” The response was barely audible, but his lips crashed hard onto yours. A rushed need of hopeless want. A fire rapidly spread inside, rushing and flooding every inch of your body. Andy’s tongue grazed your upper lip. Granting him access to battle over dominance. 

Your hands gripped his tie and shirt, pulling him into your body. No one was watching while the man that had given you butterflies devoured every part of your mouth. A circle around your tongue, scraping your palate. You hummed at his expert control of owning you. Melting into the pressure he applied by pushing his body into yours. 

His hands cradled your head while yours rested at his waist. With another deepened kiss you fisted his shirt underneath his grey coat. You needed Andy just as much as he needed you. He was all worked up because of you and allowed you to feel every inch. Not wanting to stop the one thing that kept you both going.

Unfortunately, it stopped, and your mind tried to gain back logical thinking. Your eyes opened staring back at Andy, his lips were swollen and reddened from your make-out session while yours still held a pucker to them.

“I need to go.”

“You can stay.”

“I won’t be able to hold myself back from taking you.”

You gave him a simple nod and rested your hands on his chest. His hands covered your wrists as he took a slight step backwards. He leaned in for a final peck on your lips. Leaving you without another word said. 

For a moment you doubted yourself if this had really happened. Your fingers ghosted over your plush lips, closing the door in disbelief. As soon as the door clicked in its lock, you jumped around and squealed loudly.

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

DORO PESCH And ROB HALFORD Have Recorded A Cover Of 'Total Eclipse Of The Heart': 'It Sounds Really, Really Special'

During an appearance on yesterday's (Tuesday, September 12) episode of SiriusXM's "Trunk Nation With Eddie Trunk", German metal queen Doro Pesch revealed that her upcoming studio album, "Conqueress - Forever Strong And Proud", will include two separate duets with JUDAS PRIEST singer Rob Halford: the recently released cover of the PRIEST classic "Living After Midnight" and a version of the 1983 global smash hit "Total Eclipse Of The Heart", written by Jim Steinman and originally performed by the Welsh singer Bonnie Tyler.

"The record has 20 songs on it, and I think they all sound killer," Doro said (as transcribed by BLABBERMOUTH.NET). "And it has three duets on it, and two duets with my favorite, with Rob Halford of JUDAS PRIEST, and I can't believe it. It's so awesome to me. I was a big, big PRIEST fan, and it was my very first big tour in 1986. And [Rob and I] met [again] last year in France at Hellfest, a great festival. And then we were talking, hanging out. And then we said, 'Hey, let's do something together.' So we did two duets. And the first one is 'Living After Midnight'. That was my choice, because I loved singing it. It was always a feel-good song. And then Rob Halford said, 'I have the song I always wanted to do with you. It's 'Total Eclipse Of The Heart'.' And that came out so great. When you hear it, you can tell Rob loves the song and I'm so happy. Even two duets, man. That's more than I can ask for. I'm a lucky baby, I tell you."

Asked if "Total Eclipse Of The Heart", will be a bonus track on the album, since it didn't appear in the LP's original track listing, Doro said: "It is on the record, but it just got finished a couple of weeks ago. Actually, I delivered the record and the vinyl is already done. And then I got an e-mail. Rob Halford said, 'Hey, what about the second song?' And I thought, 'Oh, man. That's too good to be true.' And then we did the second song. And it just got done a couple of weeks ago. We will do a video for that song, and it will come out — the video and the single will come out the day the record will be released, so on the 27th of October. But it came out so awesome. And oh, man, that was just the icing on the cake. I thought I was done with record. And [PRIEST producer] Andy Sneap, he worked on it, and my guys worked on it, and it was a great teamwork. And Rob Halford sounds so great on it. It's, like, wow. It's definitely one of my absolute favorite songs of this album, and it sounds really, really special. You have to check it out. But yeah, it's brand new — just got done; mastering just got done. And video we are doing in a few weeks."

Pressed by host Eddie Trunk whether her version of "Total Eclipse Of The Heart" is "heavy", Doro said: "Yes, yes, it is heavy, and it's, like, wow. It's very heavy, but it sounds great, I think, yeah. I think it's a killer version. I always get goosebumps when I hear it. And I think other people who heard it, they thought, 'Wow.'

"I think all my dreams came true working with all these great people, all my heroes, all people who inspired me so much," Doro added. "And [PRIEST] was my very first tour in Europe in '86 when metal was so huge. And it was such a great tour. So [Rob and I] finally did something together. And we always stayed friends. So I think that makes this album even more special to me, and I think many fans will love it."

"Conqueress - Forever Strong And Proud" is described in a press release as "the result of intensive hard work that took the incomparable singer and songwriter back to studios in Miami, New York and Hamburg, amongst others. The album presents Doro at the height of her creative powers."

[what-if-queen-camilla]

Chapter 11

Guys, it's happening!!!

04th August 1987- Part 2

"What do you mean 'the baby's coming?" Now it was him being in panic. She surely didn't intend to give birth right here and now…?! "I mean what I said, you idiot!", Camilla snarled, closing her eyes as the next contraction painfully yerked through her body. "I'm not a fucking midwife, Milla!", Andrew snarled back, looking at her in total desperation. She couldn't be serious. She couldn't have the baby here and now, with only him by her side, he was a man, he had no idea of these kinds of things, what on earth was he supposed to do? "No, but you're a fucking soldier so please start behaving like one, you wannabe Silver Stick in Waiting!", she almost screamed at him, not in order to be rude but in order to encourage him because she knew he could do it. Of course, this wasn't the birth any of them had been expecting or hoping for but sometimes nature had the weirdest of ideas and she'd rather have her baby delivered with the help of her husband at home than in the car on the way to hospital. "W-What… shall I do?", he asked, looking at her like a little boy on his first day at school. "What would you do if I was an injured companion of yours?", she countered and noticed in relief how this comparison seem to work: "I'll get you somewhere safe and quiet … and then get some… clean towels, sheets and blankets, hot water…" "Yeah…", she confirmed, desperately holding on to him when she was, again, struck by the next contraction. "You can do it, Andy! I know you can! Please…", she whispered and he gently lifted her up and carried her over to her bedroom again, placed her there and then rushed downstairs to go and fetch the other things. While Camilla tried to prepare herself and the baby as good as possible with some breathing exercises, her husband managed to organise everything they needed, including a tiny little glass of champagne for the mum-to-be. He had heard once that it made the birth easier but it was going to be her decision eventually; he was just trying to make it as comfortable as possible for her. Before returning upstairs, he called the Ambulance in Swindon and explained their situation and they promised him that a doctor and nurse would be there within less than an hour. 'Less than an hour…', he thought, shaking his head, trying to overshadow his anxiety with irony and emptied his own, not so tiny, glass of champagne in one go. "Alright, old man.", he said to himself when looking into the mirror in the staircase gallery. "Seems like you're going to be a midwife tonight."

The good thing was that none of them was afraid or ashamed in any way as they were still husband and wife, parents, a family and there was nothing breaking new to it all, even when Andrew helped Camilla getting rid of her nighty and spread her legs apart so that the baby would find its "way out" as smoothly and naturally as possible, there was nothing he hadn't seen before and nothing that'd have made either of them uncomfortable. "I'm so glad that the children aren't here.", Camilla sighed between two meanwhile immense painful labour contractions. "So am I!", Andrew nodded. "Imagine how they'd be making fun of their old dad playing midwife…" Almost tenderly, he dabbed her forehead with a towel and almost accidentally stroked her cheek. "I'm so proud of you.", he whispered and Camilla wasn't sure whether she'd rather laugh or cry about this unexpected declaration of love but was hit by another heavy labour contraction before she could have thought twice. "Okay, Andy…", she declared when the pressure to push became almost unbearable, bravely pulling herself together. "It's time now… it might take me a few pushes but… as soon as you see her head…" "Don't worry, Milla, I'll have it.", he assured her and once more she thanked God for having sent him to her in this very situation. As much as she loved Charles, he'd never have been able to keep as calm right now as Andrew but it helped a lot and she knew they were going to make it together.

It didn't take long until the head became visible and "midwife Andrew" was in charge gently holding it up while the mother gave another few pushes until the baby finally arrived, announcing herself with an enormous cry, which eventually made the mum cry, too. She didn't cry in pain, she cried in relief and in thankfulness that everything had gone so well and the baby seemed alright. Quickly Andrew wrapped the little girl up warmly in a clean towel and carefully cleaned her little face as Camilla told him to, before he placed the little bundle on his wife's chest. "Hello little one!", Camilla greeted her newborn daughter and kissed her softly on her forehead. "I'm your mummy and I love you so much.", she whispered teary-eyed. How beautiful her little daughter was, how absolutely perfect from head to toe… "Shall we thank Daddy for being our hero tonight?", she asked her, invitingly looking over to Andrew who seemed a bit awkward and overwhelmed, having watched the moving scene from the edge of the bed. "B-but what about… the… afterbirth?", he asked insecurely, looking at the umbilical cord that was still connecting mother and child, but Camilla shook her head. "Let the ambulance deal with that later. Come here." Sighing Andrew did as commanded and carefully laid down beside her. It felt strange to be so close to her again but not in a negative way, especially not after what had just happened. They had delivered a baby together. A wonderful, beautiful, perfect little baby which would hopefully be happy and healthy for a lifetime and have a glorious childhood in their family. Everything could have been perfect, if only he'd been the real father. "Sush, Andy. You're her daddy. You literally brought her to life. She's yours just as she's mine." These wonderful words made him tear up as well and, overwhelmed by emotions, he couldn't help leaning forward - and kissed her…

[marvelmaniac715]

Things Chucky Does To Annoy Nica In Their Shared Brain (Nica still has hands):

Recounts the plot of the latest South Park or Rick and Morty episode he’s watched (he watches a LOT of tv when he has the body, when he isn’t killing that is)

He pulls up the most embarrassing memories he can find in Nica’s subconscious and painstakingly analyses them like he’s writing an essay on that particular memory, he doesn’t stop until Nica begins to cry

Complains about various things that annoy him, loudly and obnoxiously until Nica is hitting herself in the head with a pillow to shut him up

Brags about his kids and brings up the fact that Nica will never see Alice again or have her own kids, this upsets her more than it annoys her, but Chucky takes great enjoyment from it

“Junior double triple whopper” basically the whole thing over and over again until Nica calls out to Tiffany so she can get a distraction from it

Tries to recall the plot of Peter Pan and tells the story to Nica, constantly interrupting himself to say that he really resonates with Peter yet can understand Captain Hook’s motivation, because kids are annoying and he too would kill them

Ranks his top ten favourite murders, either by him or by serial killers he admires in extreme detail

Delivers a monologue length autobiographical account of his life,  being sure to linger over the months he spent with Nica’s mother and sister because he knows it annoys her

Sings songs (badly) there’s a lot of Queen, and a lot of Meatloaf, he particularly enjoys Bat Out of Hell

Chucky: Like a bat out of hell I’ll be gone when the morning comes!-

   Nica: I wish you were!

   Chucky: Not happening!

Chucky believes heavily in conspiracy theories (you can’t tell me he doesn’t) so he explains to Nica (entirely seriously) about the dangers of the Illuminati and that aliens are going to invade, so tinfoil hats are humanity’s only defence

Rants about Andy Barclay, this isn’t specifically intended to annoy Nica, he just gets really angry whenever he thinks about Andy, and this inadvertently annoys Nica because he rants for a while

Tries to convince Nica to get into killing, because he knows she’ll never agree but he thinks it’s fun to watch her squirm

Chucky used to be good at art, and in the rare moments Nica draws or paints to pass the time (or when Tiffany gives her art supplies as something to do) he criticises everything she does, sometimes taking control of her hands to erase the lines she drew and start over

Recites memes that he learned when he had control of the body, specifically Family Guy and South Park quotes (he loves “Dancing, walking, rearranging furniture”)

Sometimes when he’s bored, he forces Nica to play I Spy, but the things he ‘spies’ are always obscure and random, like the tiniest speck of dirt on the floor at the other end of the room, and he won’t stop until she guesses, it can take hours

[wellntruly]

M*A*S*H - Season 6 misc. notes

Oh my god, this round-up is so unwieldy. Long. Just, had a lot comments. And if you were waiting for my whole manifesto on the ‘Comrades In Arms’ question, have I got that herein!!!!!

— — —

You guys gotta stop re-orchestrating the song, I’m too sensitive to this! This is how far we’ve gotten, listen: these worn-in, mellow guitars & horns of S1, this jangly extended situation

Camera’s getting in closer this season I notice. Do you know what else I noticed: HY AVERBACK. Haven’t seen that name since the change-up, since he was directing seemingly every other episode, since [quiet swallow] Trapper and Henry. Since this show was significantly nuttier and also I miss it like crazy. Hy…hi.

Klinger: “What am I, the only medic in the shop!” BJ: “You’re loved, you fool.” Klinger: “Command me, oh tall one with the Presbyterian features.” It’s like I was just saying—!

Hawkeye: “Where you from, Charlie?” Major Winchester: “Charles.” Me: “So, like the river, then?” Potter, a moment later: “Impressive, Doctor. Harvard Med, Massachusetts General…” Me: “Oh my god, like the river.”

BJ has never gone as Berkeley than when now being confronted with Beacon Hill, and fuck that is Correct. The natural challenger. Maine and the Midwest can contribute but California must put up our champion. Back Bay vs. The Bay: Fight !

Really good papers toss Mike Farrell, that’s not easy

“Creative Consultant”! Alda :)

Margaret & The Boys ‘Silly Mood’ but now it’s Babe! Babe Tell Us What’s Wrong! [Keke Palmer in Nope voice] You Look Pretty :)

Klinger’s sling-armed lawyer…this season is already pleasing me so much

Absolutely obsessed with the moribund injured Dr. Berman, whose entire affect is the part where Cameron wakes up and fixes him with a weird stare and drones “Ferris Bueller you’re my hero.”

Charles: “Colonel I, I think I should tell you that my father knows Harry Truman.” Sure, and my own rich Massachusetts friend’s dad knows Mitt Romney, this is just how this goes (Haha I’m DYING.)

Ahh, nice way to even it out. He’s a very skilled surgeon, and smug about it, but they have a skill-set that he doesn’t: move fast, not pretty, save all the lives you can, don’t fall until you reach your cot.

Ahh and yeah he’s so much smarter than Frank! God this is gonna be great. Not that he can’t be tricked, but he can also trick you. Hey let’s make this interesting, the sixth season says. Let's.

“What’s up, you look down?” is such a smooth joke that the laugh track editors didn’t even notice it

Radar: “Um, well I’m very concerned about something that concerns my life here.” Hawkeye: “What’s the trouble, Andy?” Radar: “Well, I don’t think that this place is turning out to be that great an experience for me. I mean I work under terrible pressures and there’s lots of death and destruction and stuff, but other than that I don’t think I’m getting much out of it.” Heeheehee, heeheehee, okay you know what: this is exactly the energy this show has been missing. I needed this deadpan absurdist commentary.

Radar: “I’m the only one that’s gonna leave this place younger than I was when I came.” ASLDKJFL THIS IS WHAT I HAVE BEEN SAYING. HE’S GETTING YOUNGER. Oh lord they're saying it!

They play this reveal well I gasped!

Hawkeye, drunk & maudlin at Rosie’s: “You know that my hands were shaking? I had butterflies. I’ve held people’s hearts in my hand and with him I was nervous. Am I boring you?” BJ, tired: “I’ve heard this four times already, I know how it ends.” Hawkeye: “How does it end, I wasn’t here for the early show.” BJ: “You start crying and sing ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’—can we go home?” [hard cut to BJ half-carrying Hawkeye to bed while he warbles: “If funny little bluebirds fly—!”] GOD THIS SEASON IS SO GOOD

Sparkly sparkly sparkly blue-gray eyes, all barely held tears

I think a lot about… There’s a casual detailed realism to Alda and Farrell’s acting with patients. I think what it is is this thing where they’re delivering the light dialogue to reassure, but it’s laid over something still attentive and thoughtful. Underneath the blithe jokes you can see them actually assessing how they’re doing, taking in and gathering information. Here it’s this quick beat amidst quips of Hawkeye bending his own elbow and asking “Can you do that?” and watching as Radar mirrors him.

Wooo I had to pause for a second to feel some feelings!!!!! God Alda I can’t stand that you wrote this, you wrote all this…tearing into your character’s faults and vulnerabilities…god I love you

Father Mulcahy is incensed!! He’s outraged!! </3/3 I’m losing my mind

Hahhhh Margaret like no no no, I pre-DATE you with him, Colonel, I get to yell at him first

I looooooove this episode. I love how unfair it is. It’s so unfair for Radar to be wounded and let down, and to be yelled at for this by this person he relies on, to be yelled at for feeling betrayed by Hawkeye because he loves him. And it’s so unfair for Hawkeye that it’s because he loves Radar that this even happened, that he's only fallen because he was and is so messed up over Radar getting injured. And that it doesn’t matter to the sequence of people now coming to shout at Hawkeye for shouting at Radar for holding him to this higher standard he’s stuck being held to because usually he is strong, but currently feels completely incapable of maintaining because Radar’s hurt and shouting at him. It’s all just so unfair and it’s all because everyone LOVES each other and I love that.

Can’t believe the course my life has taken has resulted in Klinger naming his imaginary camel the one Arabic word I know: Darling

Oh man, wasn’t there an episode where Henry actually pulled rank and was like oh no, you can’t arrest anyone here without going through me? Any time this happens, well I like that.

God, guess whose rampant bisexual behavior is back being tossed around in public. I’m blissful.

Also: “Knock off the didos, Pierce, we’ve got work to do.”

Wowzers

“How would you like to be up to your knees in floor.” Margaret 😂

Hawkeye is So Bothered that this guy got BJ arrested. He’s not letting this one go. He’s already called him a creep—one of the more damning designations from him! This is actually rather rare in their arrangement as has been, that Hawkeye is the one getting worked up protecting BJ—usually it’s swapped. He’s almost a little scarily unforgiving. I’m very interested by this.

Noooo your therapist has a head wound! Terrific dramatic irony, Alda. Please don’t comment on it, make me proud… Aw you make me so proud. And my goodness you love this character.

BJ: “You touch his nose, Charles, you’re gonna have to marry him.” GOD we’re back :)) Thanks for seeing me, M*A*S*H

Aw Sidney my dear

Demerit for ending with ‘Keep the Home Fires Burning’ though. [pleasant BJ voice] Fuck off, Ivor Novello.

Hawkeye: “Charles, come on, as a friend?” Charles: “Not eeeven as an enemy.” God, tasty. Tasty dialogue.

Why is everything Charles Winchester says so fucking funny. I go to write it down and it’s half just in his delivery—David Ogden Stiers is good stuff.

Hawkeye: “Thank you, thank you, I’d give you a hug but in my condition I might not be able to stop.” Ohoho, nyhaha, ah. The dressy khakis in an apron and splashed all over with plaster of Paris is also unfortunately some kind of look. It’s just novel, but we shouldn't undercount that effect.

Charles: “One of my tent mates is a relatively inoffensive chap named BJ Hunnicutt. Excellent surgeon, in spite of the fact that he was, born, raised, and studied in….California.” What did I say! What did I say!!

The fact that one of BJ’s strength is that everyone thinks he’s a sweetie, and he is, but also he’s sneaking around playing tricks, is delish.

Know that they’re beaming with love & glee while pretending to polish their shoes (BJ’s is a rubber chicken) for this entire exchange: Hawkeye: “You’re a vicious fiend.” BJ: “Worse than you?” Hawkeye: “By far.” BJ: “Nicest thing you ever said to me, thank you.” Hawkeye: “Oh my pleasure.” BJ: “My pleasure.” Hawkeye: “Any time.”

The bit where they just collapse in pure exhaustion and never makes it to their planned romp in Seoul is an oldie but a goodie

The instant I’m looking at scrubs over sweaters, I know I’m going to be enjoying an episode

God they’re all so cute when they’re cold

Charles’ clipped accent keeps making me think he’s saying “Hanukkah” when he’s actually addressing “Hunnicutt”

God they’re all so cute when they’re trying to solve a mystery novel together

Make-out fade to black. Classy.

Mike Farrell’s golden arms.. Reblog if u agree.

What kills me is that the final button of Hawkeye & Margaret is easily 10x as good as the rest of the episode, which I know is a relationship that will be forgotten by the show immediately so could never buy it for a second, but this I’ll buy every day, I’ll take out a subscription, long term. You two!

Potter: “We’ve staggered down this road before. You’ve got a razzle dazzle going.” Klinger: “Wrong sir, respectfully.” Potter: “I’m gonna love this one, it’s got a lot of reverse top-spin.” I love him. I love them.

Why do I so like a tie tucked into a shirt

Wait, so I didn’t spend enough time having a reaction to this when they’ve gotten their pay in the past, but they’re being paid in like, notgeld? What kind of company town is this! How are they paying Rosie??!

I swear Alda is getting greyer and skinnier every time I see him this season. Don’t become an actual ghost, babe.

BJ’s hair is getting longer & fluffier, too

Klinger’s first name is Max?? Well I love it

This sweet baby nurse reminds me of Marcia Strassman—I miss her! Hawkeye’s best girlfriend, in five seasons haven’t met her equal.

Why are you playing cat’s cradle with your own face, he’s right there

Huh, we’re really against tattoos now? Weird hill to die on, but okay

Potter: “Pierce, Hunnicutt, you mind going up against each other as team captains?” Hunnicutt: “What do you say, powder puff?” Pierce, big gay leg cross: “Well it will prove who’s the fairest in the land.” These moments happen and I literally say aloud, “Thank God”

Loretta!….LEGS <3

BJ Hunnicutt, I would like an entire oral history of your choice to wear your pink armband tied around your upper thigh

Watching this historic Olympics footage really makes me feel like we’ve gone too far with athletes

Just, a lot of symbolic-looking yarn winding with Hawkeye and BJ, huh. What threads tie you together, et cetera.

Charles: “Haven’t you ever seen truffles before?” BJ: “Nobody knows the truffles I’ve seen.” [Alda: might actually laugh for real, as this is so goofy and not his usual HAH] Charles: “Here you are, gentlemen.” BJ: “Oh, goody!” Hawkeye: “Mm-mm, chopped liver!” Charles: “It’s pâte de foie gras” BJ, gesturing to his mouth: “I happen to know Paddy De Foie Gras and this definitely isn’t him.” Okay who wrote this one, they get it

I like Potter pointing out Hawkeye’s hypocrisy of “railing against violence and insensitivity, then to prove your point you attack a man.” Many people could stand to hear this I think! Not to be bold!

[reminiscing about some dance hall in Toledo] “I gotta go kid. I’m breaking my heart.” Klingerrrrr <3 <3 <3 Me about the theme song.

I love irritated Potter, he’s so punchy. “Explain to me, why am I here?”

It’s been a while since we’ve had an episode where some random brass is like “I hate Hawkeye!,” and then they watch him do surgery for 48 hours straight, and are like “Never mind, he’s allowed. Also, related, I would like to never be here again.”

The Alda Two-Reveal Slow Camera Pull-Back but it’s adding BJ showering next to him singing his own opera part, then Charles in a robe crossing in front of them combing his hair. Oh and my review of this is: choicechoicechoicechoice

BJ: “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Hawk: “What don’t you do?” BJ: “I’ll think of something.”

Margaret: “HOW CAN A GROWN MAN BE SO MECHANICALLY INCOMPETENT.” Hawkeye: “I take a lot of cabs.”

Oooo I like BJ pacing in his doctor’s coat, fretting, gnawing a nail

[getting out the shrapnel] “There. You wanna look at it?” “Don’t be morbid! Just clean it up and put a dressing on it.” Love that these speakers are not who you might guess they are :)

Margaret to Hawkeye: “Do you know what it feels like to give your heart to somebody? To live just for a glimpse of his handwriting in the mail?” Hm pardon me while I just scoop this up nicely and hold it for a moment, emotionally panicking!

“Oh, I think I should warn you. If you come over here for any reason during the night, announce yourself. I intend to swing this to kill.” I fucking love her sometimes. Alan, this line, Loretta, this delivery. He’s so good at writing for her, and she just takes it and Runs.

Welp, look at that—suddenly need to qualify that last part!! Hey Part 2 what is this???

Y'know the thing is though, I sooooooo support Margaret & Hawkeye boning. Oh do I. But this, is not it! This is supposed happen in an episode where they’re mostly squabbling with each other, this is right. It keeps it part of the way they squabble. If it came out of them being all tenderness, the risk there is that then it feels like it needs to become a real thing, and it won’t work as a real thing. Or not real, this is so real, I mean as like a usual romantic relationship. Their relationship is not romantic, but frankly has always been erotic. It’s sort of the opposite of how Hawkeye has mostly been with BJ, really. (That the biggest mix of both was with Trapper is why I still can’t really talk about that !)

Anyway Hawkeye & Margaret are the horniest characters on this show, and that’s why this should so happen. For both of them, sex is a major part of the way they experience & process the world and other people in it. And with them always sparking as much as they have, absolutely should it come to this someday. And it’s so good to wait until this far in, because at this point they’ve also grown to genuinely respect each other. This can actually be a kind of gesture of mutual respect between them, a meeting as equals (on the sexy field). I mean the set-up here is actually quite good: bickering and stressing under intense fear and danger, but I want it to be a tiny bit more of a decision, again a kind of meeting at the table, not this accidental brush of lips. Maybe we keep the shelling and the shouting but do it simpler, Margaret screams and Hawkeye yells out in the dark "Margaret!" "[sobbing] What?!" "I'm coming over there!" "You'd better!" And then they're just cowering tightly in each other's arms under the blanket, and it becomes clear he has his hand clenched in the back of her hair, and she has hers gripping the open collar of his shirt, and then we just take it from there. Still keeping it simple, maybe: "Hey?," a request, and "Yeah," an acknowledgement of same. Yeah. Take comfort. Take distraction. Both be a little prideful in how good you can do ‘em—a little bit of a competition, where everyone wins. This is what I want.

And then here’s what’s not all supposed to happen next: what happens in Part 2! Margaret has always been a character who knows her own mind, knows what she wants, almost to a fault at times, and there’s no way she wants to pursue this as a romance. Even just later this same season, she’s going to think she’s pregnant, and in 1952, be like, I do not want this baby. This does not align with what I want out of this marriage or my career. There is zero way she wants to commit herself to dating Hawkeye, and Hawkeye of course does not want to be dating Margaret, and that should be the miscommunication driver of the next episode: they’re both worried the other is going to think this is a romance now when that is not what this was or is, and in their equivalently nice & awkward handling of each other the next day, are of course absolutely going to think the other is nervously smitten, and be smiling weakly at each other while privately they’re both Wirt dragging his fingers down his face whisper-rasping “Noooooo.” And then finally they manage to get it out, possibly they both start making the same confession at once like they’re Radar and one of his colonels, and then are just collapsing in relief like OH THANK GOD. Listen that was good, but that was just an elevated facet of our existing relationship, it's own weird thing that can stay its own weird thing, and (nice little ‘Aid Station’ call-back, and it’s Margaret this time doing the deliberate reprise): “If you tell this to anyone, I’ll deny it. <3” And Hawkeye’s like, “That’s why I love you :),” and it’s sweet and understood and joshing and cute.

But, all this is not what we get. An error! Well, we do eventually end in a place somewhat akin, an understanding of friendship, and they’ve each had a bit where they like, have ~learned something about themselves~, and each other, but even that part feels a little falsey, and in between, a lot of positively agéd woman-pursues-resistant-man nonsense. But we can FIX IT just call me up with time travel abilities and we’ll get this banged out right, no pun intended.

Okay where were we. Oh, something unexpected!! Well first, this:

Potter: “I hope you’re shaking a leg, Winchester.” Charles: “Colonel, my graceful fingers are dancing o’er the innards of this hapless doughboy, and when I am done, I shall be done.” Potter: “I’m sorry I asked.” Charles: “That’s what I had in mind.” Tasty.

And then: BJ saying he can’t sleep because he keeps expecting Hawkeye to walk through the door. BJ saying he wishes his heart was in the right place, as right now it’s in his mouth. BJ risking life & court martial to get a chopper and find them. BJ singing a welcome back song about how he adores ya, please don't put him through this again. How is BJ ending up being the biggest romantic choice of the Margaret/Hawkeye two-parter, that’s the sort of thing you make up on Tumblr, not the sort of thing that actually happens?? Alan??!

Hawkeye: “How’d you like to save my life again?” BJ: “Sure, you want me to fight her for you? [little committed sigh]” Mike???!

Finally looked up the inflation on 1952 money: you can baaasically just multiple it by 10 for a rough estimate. This will be useful.

Ooo! Been a few years since you’ve identified as female in dialogue, Mother Hawkeye!

“See you for dinner, Beej?” “Our little spot.”

HYANNIS PORT. I CHOKED ON MY WINE. Oh fuck, haha fuck—this is a Kennedys joke isn’t it. GAWD.

Hawkeye just amiably hosing down Nurse Kellye and her pal's outstretched limbs in the heat. You love to see this. This is so domestic.

Maaaargaret, the halter top!! Whew now I’m feeling toasty!

You two are sweating through your shirts but you gotta be close, huh

The way she slides his hand on the line like a piece of laundry, lol. This is the Margaret & Hawkeye I love, thank you. (What went wrong! The rest of this season is so right!)

And we get to see Mulcahy in short sleeves? What doesn’t this episode have

I like the theme that Hawkeye’s boyfriends are always golden gods to his iron-haired slump

The new bit where everyone makes fun of Hawk for being basically a surgical idiot savant who knows shit about fixing anything else is really good.

[Knock knock] “Enter the mausoleum.” “Hello goils, hello.” “What do you two want.” “Love and respect, but we’ll settle for love.” I love everyone in this nurses tent

Hawkeye & Margaret are so cute this episode. Seriously, the two immediately after ‘Comrades In Arms, Part 2’ are both showing up ‘Comrades In Arms, Part 2’ hand over foot

A bit everyone seems to have immediately wanted to keep up, probably because it’s so odd and funny, is Charles for some reason clearly believes Margaret must be cultured, and he’s so thoughtlessly certain of this that absolutely no hilarious thing she replies with immediately proving the contrary seems to register with him.

Deploying his warm, tireless, rail-at-me-if-you-want steadiness to helping a morphine-addicted patient get through withdrawal is SUCH a BJ plot. Amazing we hadn’t done that yet.

“Oh no thanks, when I lose I like to know why.” Sometimes Radar is incredibly profound while he’s making me laugh so much.

I swear the new writers who have come in this season fell for it in those first few years. This show is running long enough that it can start referencing its own eras.

Margaret playing Charles the world’s smallest violin!!!! BABE?

I gotta say, I don’t think you all understand how blood types work. You can give the AB negative kid A, B, or even O, as long as it’s also negative. He could literally only take more blood types if he was AB positive. The one you really want when you’re doing these plots is O negative, because they can only take other O negative, and that’s always gonna be in short supply because it’s the universal blank slate, you can use it for any other type you’re running out of, or if they’ve lost their dog tags and you don’t know their type at all. That's the one you want for this!

Klinger is trying to drag Hawkeye off to bed as BJ sleepily encourages over his protestations: “Don’t ask, just take him.” BJ [chinhands] I have so many thoughts about you

“Come on, if you can’t tell your number one nemesis who can you tell?” Again, this is exactly what I love about you guys. This is, in fact, the best Margaret & Hawkeye season yet, despite my one complaint!

Hawkeye genuinely so excited and sweet, exclaiming that all they see is death and destruction and now here’s life thanks to her. And Margaret going no, no this is not good, I do not want this baby right now. This kinda extremely rules.

Waitaminute. We won’t…we wouldn’t???! Will we??!!

We will not, but I will learn how you did a pregnancy test in the 1950s! Wow!!

Klinger: “Excuse me for saying so—your mail is leaking, Colonel.” Potter: “Honey.” Klinger: “Your mail is leaking, honey.”

Wait I love the Pierce & Mulcahy live show. They’re dueting.

Hawkeye: “What do you say I take you home and put you to bed.” BJ: “Aw you service men are all alike.” It’s giving Trapper era... I’m in a tidal pool of emotions.

Hawkeye: “May your fingers never lose their cunning.” Father Mulcahy: “Ah, see you in church!” Lot going on in the officer’s club tonight

Oh! Hawkeye Pierce is the only child of a widower. In Maine. Yeah, that might make this.

I don’t know why BJ character reveals always feel worth their weight in gold, but: what has him so distressed is the idea that Peggy might not need him any more. He needs to be needed. No wonder you took one look at lorn bedraggled weird Hawkeye Pierce and said, hi, I’m BJ.

If this means this episode we’re going to get BJ alone with Charles going full maniacal to make up for Hawkeye’s absence, I’ll so support it.

“A little to the left, dear”—it begins.

Oh em gee Margaret’s old bestie??! :)) They were such scamps!

Oh em gee, the boys be plotting! The boys being BJ & Charles. Wow Hawk’s gonna come back and not only is Charles going to be like oh thank god, but also he and BJ are going to have An Understanding—this is gonna come up pluses all around.

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD MARGARET EPISODE, MEANWHILE

“They hated me. The doctors, nurses, everybody. Kept telling me I was dull.” You could say a whole lot of things about Captain Pierce, but they managed to find the one thing that would make that other MASH seem completely deranged. They said you were what?

Charles literally exclaiming how much he missed him and grabbing him into a bewildered hug, only for BJ to then happily tackle them both with his long arms—great!!!!

It’s now one year until Potter retires. This whole season has lasted: two months.

Counterpoint, Charles - he has been here: six months. I love this :)

“Look at that brazen hussy over there. And the woman he’s with,” BJ, glowering in sexual jealousy at Hawkeye across the party. “You’re all lunatics,” Margaret, in a cream turtleneck, correctly.

I just love Charles being like PLS, that is so not the tactic I would have taken, you want this angle. The thing is, Frank was always a dumbdumb—and for all his posturing about it, Charles actually is intelligent. He just uses it in ways that displease us. But, once in a blue moon, he can turn around and use it in ways we want, ways to help, and it’s a Thrill. God, when we finally reach the point where Charles unbidden uses his influence & largess to save or protect one of them, easy money’s on Hawkeye but more interesting money is on BJ, it’s all over for us, huh. Meaning our cool.

Gary Burghoff is going next level with this mailbag protection performance and I am hortling

This drop to beneath the table! Great little bit of direction

Hawkeye to Potter, in a way I can’t quite describe but will stick with me a long time: “You could give me a hundred good reasons to leave, and I can’t give you one good reason to stay. Stay anyway.”

Why do you have a whole bottle of amphetamines in stock?

God remember when House drugged Wilson. “I’m on speeeeed!”

“Who wrote that?” “Charles Emerson Winchester, while still in undergraduate.” “It sounded very…collegiate.” FATHER.

“Good night, BJ.” “Good night, Hawkeye.” Together: “Good night, Charles.” Charles, sing-songing: “You promised.”

Marine: “Hey Radar—you and your mouse, are okay.” I’m McLosing it.

That Charles is always reminding us he was almost the head of thoracic surgery is so funny. He wasn’t actually.

Five points to Harry Morgan for how my pulse picked up at the way he asked Hawkeye to close the door because he has something to disclose to them. What is it gonna be!!

Fuck. Yes. The Placebo Plot. Oh what a fun little finale for me, as a weirdo.

— — —

Season Viewguides

These

[streets-in-paradise]

Testing the Waters - Teen!Andy Barclay x (Fem)Teen!Winchester Reader

Continuation of “Child Soldiers in a Secret War “

Word Count 1.8 K

Warnings: Same warnings applying to the previous oneshot. 

Summary: The hunt is about to begin and you try your best to get Andy ready. Struggling to not reveal all you know on the matter after a misterious accident happens on the same day of a Good Guy sighting, you play it safe by betting on getting the boy’s help. 

Notes: This one may not be the fic i’m the most proud of, but a friend of mine enjoyed it a lot so i decided to write a continuation. 

Tags: @losersclubisms​ (It’s because of you that i continued it and, since you said you enjoyed the reader’s personality, here you can see it shine a bit more) 

Sargent Clark was the first victim of your strategy to deal with authority. Despite being as severe as anyone else, you were testing it on him and it was getting good results. To the eyes of all of those militars you were probably nothing more than a little punk, pretty much like Barclay, but getting some respectful laughs out of the right persons proved to be useful. 

“ Yes, Winchester. I have something for you this time.” The amused but fed up man declared as soon as he saw you. “ Seems like it’s the new kids’ lucky day. The Barclay boy got one too.” 

You were attentive to the mention of Andy. 

“ Do you want me to deliver it to him, sir? You don’t have to bother personally when I can save that tribulation from you.” 

You could feel the old dude was holding a chuckle. 

“ Vocabulary improvements! Very well, miss.” He mocked you, comparing that to the first bad taste comments he heard you say at the arrival. “ It will not be necessary, I got Tyler on it.” 

The big package was the perfect size and shape to be carrying your precious load: the enemy. Suspecting of every big package meant for Andy was perhaps a stretch, but you preferred to be careful than sorry. Your job there was to guard him with your life, him and everyone there even if around eighty five percent of them were high profile dickheads. The search for Tyler didn’t reach a good outcome and you were clearly not thinking if you were considering facing Chucky without a plan. The boys sent you whatever they could in the hurry. It was a full but mixed set of various elements, since you weren’t sure what the hell you were fighting. Among a few other things it included a dark dust-like thing assured to be used in hoodoo rituals, refills of holy water and rock salt bullets and a page with a detailed draw of Damballa’s symbol alongside some more ritualistic information they managed to gather. You haven’t figured out yet how to use all of that into an effective attack, but your own duty commanded you and you did your best. 

Finding Andy and sticking with him was, technically, the wisest path. Chucky wanted him, it has always been like that, so if you wouldn't find that damn package and check what was on it the best was staying alert and keeping him close. For so, you went back with the unit knowing well that Shelton was going to give you hell for arriving late. 

He was already too busy with your guarded boy, what you could see from afar, but you didn’t mind giving that asshole more work. 

“ We must be swift as a coursing river” You began to sing as you were approaching, hoping that the intrusion would distract him and he would leave Andy alone. “ With all the force of a great typhoon… With all the strength of a raging fire. Mysterious as the dark side of the mooooonn” 

Hell was about to be unleashed with you arriving late and singing the military training song from Disney’s Mulan. 

“ WINCHESTEEER!!” 

The rage screams of Shelton, despite meaning trouble, were beginning to feel like music for your ears. After Andy would be safe you would be out from there. You weren’t following a military career, so you had no reason to restrain yourself from messing with him at levels no one else would dare to reach. 

“ Yes, sir?” A sweet, submissive tone that was absolutely ironical followed up as an answer.” Were you looking for me?” 

Andy rolled his eyes. He liked you, he truly did, but he simply couldn’t understand why you would act like that all the time. 

“ … You are LATE…” Shelton informed the obvious. “ HAVEN’T YOU HAD ENOUGH WITH YESTERDAY, YOU WAYWARD BITCH??” 

Not bothered in the slightest, you kept the same level of irony displayed before. 

“ I know, sir. I have a clock. Complications presented on the way, as us mortals can’t control the tribulations of destiny.” 

That fancy sounding word was catchy in your mind, so you kept it. 

“ WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU??” 

You deviated your stare for a brief instant, checking on Andy, then delivered a mastermind of comedy line that was going to sentence you in favor of him. 

“ I was shaving my lady parts, just in case Sergeant Botnick’s trichophilia ever reaches crazy levels since he can’t trim all the hair off from ladies’ heads.” 

The ingenious ‘ mind your own business’ comeback surpassed your previously settled limits, you were getting sharper with each confrontation. At that point you had zero fucks to give, Chucky could be already out there and dealing with him was your mission. 

It could also be said that you enjoyed yourself a little bit because those sorts of intromissions would never fail in getting Andy's attention. Right then you needed it for case reasons, but in other opportunities you didn’t have as many valid excuses for that. You would lie to yourself, convinced it was part of winning his trust so he would cooperate on the hunt, but you actually wanted him to look at you because you liked him. it was not your intention to compete over him with Da Silva, but you were shameless enough to overcome her limits to make him laugh. Joking was your way of bonding and she would often laugh with you, which showed there were not necessarily hard feelings between you despite you were fancying the same boy. Shelton had it against you both and that was a powerful unifying patron. 

He couldn’t wait to firm your death sentence, but got interrupted by someone else’s. The whole unit ended up arriving at a murder scene and a very shocked Andy was thinking exactly the same thing as you. 

As soon as you both were relatively free you attempted to encourage Andy of talking about the problem through a walk around the place leading to some isolated point of the school ground. 

" You are a smart guy, Andy. I'm not gonna tell you what we gotta do..." You were saying to him regarding the confusing episode... " Let's get down to business, to defeat that doll...." 

"Enough with that song. " He complained. " Do you like to make fun of other people's trauma? 

" I make fun of my own trauma, you should be aware of that by now. How many daddy issues jokes have I told you since we met? " 

It was a fair point, but he was still annoyed. 

" Do you ever take anything serious?" 

" I am being serious. I saw a package, you saw a doll and now that man is dead. It can't be a coincidence."

" Why do you care?" 

Telling him at that point that the Play Pals CEO was dead and you knew it the whole time was not an option. 

" Because I was sent from a future where Chucky kills you and rules the world. I have to protect the last leader of the human resistance at a time where he was still a whiny teen asking too many questions. I took the shape of another whiny teen so it wouldn't look awkward." 

The plot of Terminator, Andy didn't want to laugh but couldn't help it. 

" Listen, regardless if you want to accept it or not, Chucky is back. You can choose denial and die, or help me fight." 

"What do you plan to do, throw some white flour at him?" He mocked you, not meaning to offend but showing how unprepared he judged you. " Your kitchen based remedies are not going to stop him. " 

" Then tell me how he stopped the last two times. " You complained, insisting on the matter. " You are Mulan and I am your Mushu. I tricked my way into becoming your guardian because all the others were unavailable, now together we can still save China."  

" Thanks, but I don't want more people involved in this. " He politely declined. " if he is out there, the best would be for me to deal with him on my own. " 

You rolled your eyes, it was such a Dean attitude on his part that you simply couldn't help yourself. 

" Fine...whatever." You pretended to agree while letting him know you were disagreeing and absolutely going to work on that behind his back. " By the way... Do you think there is a chance that the tricophilic asshole may have some of your hair saved somewhere? I mean, that guy is a hair obsessed sadistic weirdo. " 

The ask weirded him, but he mindlessly answered anyway. 

" I don't think so, hair may be sold or end up in the garbage." 

" Shit! Alright, this may work just fine. Please, extend your hand. " 

Weirded but intrigued, Andy did as you asked, but the result was you making a superficial cut on his hand and making him bleed all over a piece of paper. 

" What the fuck is wrong with you?" 

" Voodoo life insurance. " Was your vague explanation. " Keep the paper close, don't let Chucky take it. " 

The cluelessness in his face forced you to go further. 

" Look at the symbol in the paper, i copied it from some autentic shit. This is an improvised way of consecrating you to Damballa. If Chucky's boss has you on his radar he can't kill you without facing the remote possibility of pissing him off." 

You could tell he was freaking out. 

" What did YOU just do to ME?? " 

" Relax, the protection ends if you destroy the paper because you are not baptized into the religion." 

" I don't know where you get all of this stuff, but you are missing the point. Chucky has never tried to kill me, he wants to possess me and for that he needs me alive."

" I'm testing the waters, ok? I have no idea how to fight this thing. " You defended yourself. " Honestly? It is so exciting. He is not a paranormal race of monsters, so there are no rules already created on him. We can have lots of fun trying to figure out what hurts him or perish doing so because nothing of what I already know works... Isn't that fascinating? I feel like a biologist discovering a new species."   

" What can I do to end this conversation? " 

" Tell me how to beat Chucky your way so I can strengthen mine. " You asked once more. " Or, if you were smarter, you could also be shutting me up with a kiss and giving me no info."

The idea got him a little nervous. 

" Fine, I will share what I know. " 

You teased him by acting out disappointment.

" I was almost sure that you were stubborn enough to pick the kiss."

One of the most important facts that you got and couldn't possibly deduce from some police report was Chucky's preference for surprise attacks after nightfall. You wandered the school in the middle of the night, making a secret watch while being careful no superior would catch you. The first theory you were going to test was the límits of the catholic syncretism present on voodoo regarding what could be used to fight. If Damballa was sometimes being iconographically represented and worshiped as Saint Patrick, holy water had to work on Chucky as fine as the catholic imagery would suggest.