#no wonder andrew gets fed up with their shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chrisevansgoodgirl · 3 years

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i've heard allegations 'bout your reputation, i'll show you my shadows if you show yours

summary: requested (like a year ago, sorry!) Reader and Andy getting in a legitimate fight or maybe flirting in front of him with one of his colleagues to get under his skin because he hasn’t touched her in weeks from being so busy jealous Andy would be so dominant I’m weak i took some liberties and set it at the christmas eve party at andy’s office.

warnings: andrew barber being r o u g h 😩 😩 😩 and jealous 😩 and mean bc i just so deeply want this man to yell at me and pull my hair bc he’s an angry daddy, however, he is not called daddy in this story bc i don’t do it unless you guys ask me to. so smut, and he’s in charge and i’m dead about it. more videos being made bc apparently that’s on my mind.

word count: around 7,500

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: i hate that it took me so long to post this but here i am, almost a month late with a christmas eve party story. i have very little shame tbh.

You were not unreasonable, no matter what Andy claimed. You could always admit what was your fault—which was about 80% of all disagreements—but Andy had his faults, too. Tonight? Well, you weren’t innocent…but you were not the only one to blame.

This was the third Christmas party he had taken you to. The first year had not completely been his doing. Lynn had been bothering him about it and he would have gotten away with pretending it just wasn’t possible had Lynn not run into you at the coffee shop near Andy’s house.

You had been accustomed to Andy by then. He didn’t put distance between you two because he wanted to, he just simply wasn’t the best at getting close. You practically forced him into sometimes, and it had never gone wrong, so he trusted you. A lot.

You weren’t sure you were going to be able to say that much longer. You had your moments, those situations where you pushed him just a little too far. Not so far that he was angry about it, but far enough that you ended up with a sore ass and maybe a few finger-shaped bruises on your skin.

As if that was an incentive to stop?

Lately, things had been…off. Andy was working on a big case, one that he had just finished the day before. You expected that he was going to come home and make up for not having touched you in 17 days. Yet, that didn’t happen.

You weren’t trying to complain too much. The “honeymoon phase” was something that could not be applied to your relationship because you were as happy as any other day, you loved him more and more as time went on, and you guys always had sex. Always.

But there were the cases that sometimes threw a slight pause in that. That was fine, you understood and it wasn’t like you were with Andy for sex. You loved that man so fucking much, you could deal with some neglect for a little bit. Emphasis on a little bit.

17 days with no immediate plans to remedy it was crossing a line. So, on the 18th night, the night of his office Christmas party, after he merely kissed your head, told you that you looked beautiful, and didn’t fuck you in your tiny, sparkly dress, you also wanted to cross a line. A specific line because it was hard to get a reaction out of him any other way.

Andrew Barber was a jealous man. It was something you never played with because he was jealous. He wasn’t some immature idiot who was going to cause a scene, but he would interrogate you about people he felt were “suspicious”.

On your way to the party, he had wanted to catch up. He felt like this was the first time he was able to breathe since he was put on the case, and he had noticed some distance between you two. You told him about the very basic parts of your day—work, friends, family.

When he placed his hand on your thigh, you had to wonder if this was a game. Why hadn’t he fucked you? Was he trying to make you beg? That was something Andy thoroughly enjoyed, and you trusted him so much that you rarely ever knew when he was doing it. If you stopped to think about it, you would probably find a few times he’d managed to get away with it.

He let you hold his hand and to avoid having to pull away from you, he told you when to move the gear shift. It was cute, too cute for how long you two had been together, but Andy seemed willing to indulge you. He always did when he could.

But as soon as he got to the party, there was more work talk and he had basically pawned you off on Lynn. She was thrilled, of course, she rarely had time for friendships, but she valued Andy, and because of that, she loved you almost as much as he did.

It had been two hours by the time you were completely fed up. Lynn had decided she was about to head out, so she was making her rounds, and that meant that you were stuck with the other partners. Men, women, they were all talking about how great their lawyers had been lately.

Yet, reminder, you hadn’t been fucked in nearly 18 days. You weren’t going to sit around and listen to that for the whole night, you innocently decided to wander a bit. Andy was talking about his case and seemed almost oblivious to your presence. Why did he even bring you? He was the one that reminded you about it, you probably wouldn’t have realized it had gone by until well into next year since work was so hectic.

Regardless, without an answer, you were left to entertain yourself. What else were you supposed to do? Just sit around all night and not speak to anyone? Andy was a complicated man and he had only a handful of people at the job that he liked, but fewer people that he disliked. Most people, he felt indifferent about, and those were the pawns for your current game.

You flit all around the party, laughing, talking to everyone, and though you saw him seeking out your whereabouts every now and then, there was no reaction at all. He didn’t care that some of these sleazy men were staring at your cleavage or your legs—two things he should have done earlier but did not.

By the time you’d nearly spoken to everyone, you felt…possessed, there was no better way to describe it. You were mad and confused and tired, and till the day you died, you would swear on everything you held sacred, the following was not part of your plan. You simply had no other choice than to go along with it when it practically fell in your lap.

Andy hadn’t noticed your best attempts but as soon as Neal was standing in front of you, he was watching. You had not and would not have gone to Neal, it was the other way around. He was possibly picking up on all your sadness and desperation, he was probably able to spot attention-seeking from a mile away since he pulled those kinds of stunts regularly.

Andy was finally paying attention to you and that was why you didn’t walk away. Your boyfriend could deny it all he wanted, but you saw something in his eyes. There was that anger, of course, but there was also that dark gleam. The one that he had when he liked to lay you out under him and remind you who you belong to.

That was all you wanted, that was the only reasoning behind your actions. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, not until you laughed at something Neal said and he laughed back, and then he touched your shoulder.

And that was when you knew things had gone too far. You crossed a line, and you should have known better than even trying to use Neal. Because he envied Andy to no end, understandably. Why wouldn’t he try to flirt with you? No one got Andy as angry as Neal, and you should have just put your ego aside and spoken to your boyfriend.

But that window had closed and your time for being a mature, communicating adult was over. You quickly broke away from Neal after that and Andy took only seconds before he was dragging your ass out of that party and to the car.

You weren’t sure what to do. Pretend you didn’t know what the big deal was? Maybe just start blurting out apologies. He opened the car door for you, ushered you in, and then got into the driver’s seat in complete silence.

Andy had been mad at you before, but he had never been so angry he wouldn’t look at you or speak to you. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. His jaw set, brow furrowed, shoulders tense—he stayed that way the entire drive.

Andy wasn’t like this, he usually always had his temper in control. You were worried because you were one of the few people Andy sincerely trusted. It would devastate you if this gave him pause.

When he stopped the car, it became uncomfortably silent. It had taken you almost a minute to decide where you wanted to take this. “Andy, I’m—”

“Don’t apologize.”

“But I am s—”

“Get upstairs, take your dress off, and wait for me on the bed.”

Shit. You fumbled with the handle for a moment, scurrying inside and up the stairs. This was everything that you had wanted, wasn’t it? Then why the fuck were you nervous? Why were you shaking? Why did the idea of a black hole appearing and swallowing you sound so appealing?

You took off your dress and hung it back in your closet. You’d only been in it for a few hours, that didn’t warrant an actual wash. Shakily, you made your way back to the bed and sat there. What about your bra and panties? He hadn’t said. Your shoes? Fuck, what were you supposed to do?

Andy walked in and flipped on the light.

Idiot, why hadn’t you done that?

He made his way to the dresser off to the side of the bedroom, he removed his jacket first, then his cuff links and his tie. He started rolling up his sleeves and you had to look away.

You turned down to your lap. “You didn’t tell me if you wanted me to keep anything else on.”

“I also didn’t tell you that you could speak,” he asserted.

Your stomach dropped, the mere thought of not following his directions was unsettling. When Andy got like this, you wanted to do what he told you to. You wanted him to think you were his good girl. Any time you failed at absolute perfection, you didn’t take it well.

You didn’t know if you should apologize or remain silent. You were wringing your hands, something you became aware of only when he made his way in front of you and placed his hands over yours. You startled slightly, looking up at him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, keeping your head tilted back. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered. You didn’t want him to feel bad because you were feeling some type of way. You also didn’t want to think this had anything to do with him. He’d never given you reason to be nervous.

“Are you scared?”

“Kind of.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He leaned down, face directly in front of yours. “Before we start, I need you to understand that you’ve never disappointed me. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.” That didn’t really help as much as he probably thought it would. Even if you hadn’t disappointed him, there was always the chance that you would. And you weren’t sure he was being completely honest anyway. Neal? What the fuck was wrong with you?

“You don’t need to be nervous or scared, just be completely honest with me.”

“Of course.” You would never lie to him.

“Who do you belong to?”

Your answer was immediate, you didn’t even need to think about it. Recalling life before you met Andy was a bit blurry. Who had you been? Where? What had you wanted? “You.”

“So,” he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, “this mouth…”

“Is yours,” you confirmed.

He hummed, fingers trailing from your face all the way down, between your breasts, over your stomach, stopping at the band of your panties. He paused, noting the shakiness in your breath, the goosebumps on your skin, your hands that were gripping the sheets.

Abruptly, his hand dropped to where you had been expecting it to. Your breath hitched and your hips jumped off the bed, desperate for his touch.

He made a small noise of disapproval and you hurriedly settled back down on the bed. “This pussy? Is that mine, too?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He pulled your panties off to the side and his fingers ran up your wet skin at an agonizing pace. He brought them up to his lips and his tongue slipped out to taste you. He smiled because you had managed to stay almost completely still, apart from a bit of squirming. “You’re such a good girl, baby. You know that’s one of my favorite things about you, how good you are for me.”

That gave you these awful butterflies and you felt hot everywhere. That was all you ever needed to hear. His hand returned to your center and his first finger slid into you. You looked down to see but he grabbed your jaw again and turned you back up.

“Keep watching me, baby.”

He liked to test you, you knew that. He would give you an order and try to make you disobey him. This time, when his hand fell away from your face, you forced yourself to keep your head tilted. You ignored that burning part of you that wanted to see his fingers pushing in and pulling out, covered in what was dripping from your pussy.

You focused on just feeling. One thick finger was slowly working you open for him, he always stretched you out as much as he could meaning you had to be prepared for some teasing. He prioritized this because he was big and he knew it—and you had been smitten enough before he fucked you, but after, there wasn’t a second of the day your body didn’t crave Andy’s.

Despite how rough Andy could be with you, and how generally tough he was, he liked to baby you. Sometimes, he liked treating you as delicately as one would a bouquet of flowers. He could see a lot of comparisons if he really thought about it. You were beautiful, soft, and smelled so sweet. And if he didn’t pay attention to you, well, he’d been reminded of those consequences at the party.

You kept your eyes on his the entire time. You didn’t falter when he added his second finger, nor when he curled his fingers against that spot inside you, nor when his thumb pressed down firmly on your clit.

He pressed one hand down on your shoulder, a cue to lie back. After you had obliged, he pulled his fingers out of you and told you to open your mouth. You instantly did so, closing around his fingers as soon as they were in your reach.

He pressed his fingers down and kept going until your body jerked and the noise of you gagging echoed in the room. “I wanna see those beautiful lips wrapped around my cock, baby girl.”

You eagerly sat up, still sucking on his fingers as you pulled his belt apart, yanked the button of his pants open, and tore down the zipper. Glancing up at him to look for any signs that you didn’t have his permission to proceed, you pushed his pants and boxers down cautiously until his cock was out.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth and nodded. “Go ahead, baby.”

You moved back on the bed and situated yourself onto your stomach, propping up on your elbows. One hand wrapped around his hard length and you let the tip of your tongue come out to catch the precum dripping from his tip.

He released a shaky breath, hands at his sides because he wanted you running the show. For a while, a least. He didn’t want to guide you, he wanted to see how exactly you were going to make up for your slight misstep at the party.

You ran your tongue up his shaft lightly, feigning that whole soft act that you knew he loved. It wasn’t so much an act, but you had been bent over his desk, hair pulled, ass spanked, both holes thoroughly used. But you liked soft, too. You liked slow and gentle mornings, whispered words, careful touching. You liked whatever he wanted to give you.

You closed your lips around just the head of his cock and sucked. Unlike all other men you had been with, Andy was as patient as a saint. He loved when you teased him. Once, he had you edge him with your mouth for nearly an hour and thinking about how he fucked you after still made your toes curl.

His eyes closed and he sighed. “Fuck, baby.” His hand lightly settled on the back of your head. “So good, I could fuck your mouth for the rest of my life.” He didn’t push you down, he just ran his hand through your hair over and over because he knew how much you liked him to play with your hair.

But then his hold tightened and he pulled you off, much to your dismay. He noted your pout and pleading eyes but was kind enough not to taunt you about them. “Get on your back, sweetheart.”

You knew what he wanted as soon as he stepped away. You quickly climbed up toward the edge of the bed and rolled over, bending your neck over the mattress. You automatically opened your mouth for him, but he placed his hands on your shoulders first.

“Relax.” He leaned over and ran his hands along your arms, setting them on the mattress. He pressed your thighs down, waiting until you had lost all the tension in your body. He curled his hand around his length and stroked several times with a loose hand and a slow pace.

You watched in utter fascination. It never failed to get you wet when Andy showed so much control, over himself, over you. He was in charge of every little thing and you could tell that he got off on that. Every time he reached the head of his cock, he would press down so slightly, so close to your lips but just not enough.

“Andy,” you whispered. “Please.”

He smirked again. “Open your mouth for me.” And as soon as you did, he was slowly sliding in. He was slow at first, keeping his hips still as he slipped the straps of your bralette past your shoulders. He rolled the remaining material down until your breasts were exposed and squeezed them in his hands.

You pressed your thighs together, arching up into his hands more. You tried to relax your throat for him, knowing he was only stopping to give you a moment to prepare.

He pinched your nipples painfully and didn’t stop until you whined. He loved feeling you make that sound when his cock was down your throat, and the deep breaths as the pain faded away. Again, he tortured your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, yanked a little, until you were squirming all around the bed, making these noises around him that he rarely ever heard, your eyes filled with tears.

He leaned over quickly, releasing your breasts so he could give them both a brief kiss. You closed your eyes, humming in satisfaction. He took his time sinking his teeth into your sore, erect nipples and you squealed both times, back arching again. His tongue rolled over your stinging skin and you tilted your head eagerly, attempting to take more of him.

Sometimes, it was enough to get him naturally high, how much power he had over you, your body. He could hurt you and you would thank him; he could turn around and give you just a second of gentleness and you looked at him like you’d never loved anyone as much as you loved him. You claimed that, quite often. Andy wasn’t sure if he believed that, not because he didn’t trust you but because he wasn’t wired to think of himself as special in any way. Why you treated him like he was, was confusing to him at times.

But you were special, so fucking special. You were smart and funny, and so kind to every single person you encountered. It was a nice change from the environment he regularly found himself in. That was what you were supposed to be—a breath of fresh air from his hard life. You were not supposed to become his only source of oxygen, yet there he was. It didn’t seem he was reliant on you because Andy wasn’t comfortable expressing reliance on anyone, but he knew he was.

He stood and watched your body move with those deep, sharp breaths you were taking. Abruptly, his hand whipped across one breast, then the other. You cried out, a nice vibration around him, and now you were quivering. It was so easy for him to play your body like this because you were just needy enough that anything would have given you pleasure. Another thing he knew, another thing that made him so damn cocky.

“Open your legs,” he told you and you parted your thighs. Again, he pulled aside your lace panties and pushed two of his fingers inside you. Your cunt was dripping, your arousal gushing out as his fingers thrust in, curled, searched for that spot that made your eyes roll back. The noise of it made his cock twitch.

Your pussy was throbbing, yearning for the release that only this man could give you. You didn’t care how he did it, you just needed Andy. Hands, mouth, cock, you would take anything he wanted you to have.

“Listen to that greedy pussy,” he directed, voice low and quiet. “So desperate to be filled and fucked. But by who, baby?”

Your stomach twisted at not being able to answer him. That was why he asked when you had your mouth full of him, because if you could speak, you would blurt out reassurances that it was only him.

“Me?” he pressed.

You spoke, despite knowing it was going to sound like nonsense.

“And no one else?”

You were quick with your denial. And maybe, by now, since his cock was always in your mouth, he was a professional at understanding what you were saying. Or possibly, it was just the look in your eyes.

“You sure, baby?”

Once more, your voice came out muffled but hurried, almost panicked. He had to know that you didn’t even think about anyone else. He had to know that you thought he was the most beautiful man in the world.

He dragged his free hand up your body and it settled over your neck. Finally, he pulled out from your mouth only to thrust back in harshly. You choked, your throat contracting around him while he massaged his thumb and finger over your pulse points. He let you breathe through it before he started rocking his hips ever so slightly. You could feel him moving along your tongue and your cheeks, but they were small motions.

You always loved this position; it was easier to take all of him. It was easier to breathe on your back with your chest open, and, unlike being on your knees, it left you open for him.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing one hand off to the side of the bed while the other reached between your legs. His fingers danced along your skin without any real intent, but occasionally, he would touch your clit.

You were reaching for any part of him you could touch. Your hands mindlessly grasped at his back and kept slipping off because of his shirt. You couldn’t ask but you wanted it off. He felt your hands working open his buttons and decided to let you have something. He was going to take and take tonight, he could give you a little.

He stood up and loosened his tie enough to pull it off, then shrugged his shirt off. Once again, his palm settled to your neck. “You should see yourself right now. Shaking, wet, such a good girl.”

You reached up, gripping one hand in his pants, the other around the buckle of his belt and you pulled him in more until your throat was struggling.

“Easy, baby.” He took your hands off him, keeping a hold of one and placing the next back down on the bed. He pulled out carefully, dragging his hand up, and inch by inch, pushed back in. “You should see how deep I’m getting. I can see it right here.” The palm of his hand hovered over your skin, just enough that you could feel him, and he followed his cock again, letting you know how much of him you were taking.

It was a lot of him, not enough. And he was deep, but you needed more. You whined, a plea for him to move this along. He couldn’t want to drag this out, not after almost 18 days.

Again, he leaned over until he could touch you. His hips moved steadily, a controlled move that matched how strategically he was working your cunt, everywhere but the most sensitive part of you.

You hated that you couldn’t beg, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if you weren’t shaking or if your cunt wasn’t clenching desperately, you knew if he couldn’t feel it, he could at least see it. This went on for several moments, he was proud of how well you were taking him, and wanted to give you some type of award.

You were more than just caught off guard when you felt his lips against one of your thighs. Fuck. He couldn’t, you wouldn’t last long. But he went on, scattering kisses over your thighs, fucking your mouth just a fraction harder as he grew closer to your pussy.

As he licked down from your clit to your entrance, your eyes rolled back. Your hips jumped off the bed and one of his hands held you down in response. You were trembling, whining utter nonsense.

Several times, his tongue ran through you and you’d been so worked up, so wet and frustrated since he’d pulled you out of the party, since he hadn’t fucked you in a while, and this was just happening too fast. You wanted to focus on him, you wanted to apologize in the best way you knew how.

You tried to push him back with your hands on his thighs, but you were nowhere near strong enough.

He turned his head to kiss your thigh again. His hips stilled, most of his cock out of your mouth just in case. “Do you need a moment, baby?”

You debated. If you actually made him stop, made him pull out even if just for a second solely so you could ask him not to make you come...he would be outraged. He might even turn you over and spank you. But he also might not let you come at all. You would die, you knew you would.

You let your hands fall away.

“You okay?”

You hummed slowly, comfortably.

Still, one hand settled on your hip bone to keep you from moving, the other you felt on the back of your thigh close to your ass. He kissed your pussy slowly, sucking at your skin just a little, but not your clit, not yet.

He was careful as he began fucking your mouth again, worried he had pushed you too far. He waited until he was sure you were okay before he sucked your clit between his lips and slipped two fingers into you.

You whined around him as your body shuddered.

He kissed you again, several times to get you to calm down. “It’s okay, baby girl. Be a good girl for me.”

So, you understood, he realized that you wanted to object to this, but Andy was the greediest man you had ever had in bed. You weren’t surprised that he just didn’t care. You found it hard to mind as he began fucking his fingers in and out of you, sloppy, wet noises echoing around the room.

He was sucking again and you were desperately clutching at any part of him you could, his sides, his legs. You weren’t pushing him away now, you were pulling him in.

You were so close, your body arching up as much as it could. You felt tension building in every part of your body. Your own hands came up to your breasts mostly because you knew he would feel your hands moving underneath him.

“Fuck,” he cursed. He left your cunt neglected of his mouth for several moments, only using his fingers, as his cock drove down your throat hard.

You were choking loudly, your body again moving wildly as you gagged. It couldn’t have been more than a few times but they were determined thrusts, you were sure he was going to come in your mouth.

Instead, he pulled out completely and you whined shortly. You didn’t want him to go, but you couldn’t say that. All you could do was try to catch your breath. He didn’t even give you a moment to protest before his face was buried in your cunt.

In seconds, you were a mewling, moaning mess for him. Your body was so tight, so full of unbearable tension. You were shaking, sweating, your pussy was loud and soaking wet and you knew you were dripping everywhere, on him, on the bed.

He didn’t tease, he wanted to let you come because he wanted you coming all night. His favorite form of punishment was too much of a good thing, not withholding how much he enjoyed touching you.

You finished with a scream loud enough that the neighbors probably heard. Again.

Andy touched you through it until you stopped moving, save for the shaking aftershocks when he got a tad too close to your clit. When you were loose and sated on the bed, he started to sit you up.

You quickly turned to him, grasping his face. “I love you, only you.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I would never look at anyone else.”

“I believe you.” Even if he didn’t, this was not the place to voice that. This...state he got you in when he was this dominant, this demanding, was not completely unlike you. It was just a very obedient, sensitive version of you that he knew he had to be careful with. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt your feelings.

He touched your face and that was when you realized you were crying, he was wiping away your tears. It was either from your finish or from choking on him, you weren’t completely sure. “You’re okay?”

You nodded quickly. “I’m okay.”

He kissed your forehead and you felt hot. As if what you two were just doing wasn’t filthy, this was what made your heart beat faster and gave you those butterflies in your stomach.

He pulled back and kept hold of your face. “What does my baby girl want?”

“I want to feel you inside me.”

As his lips met yours, he began removing all the remaining clothing on either of your bodies. He moved you up the bed until he could lay your head on a pillow and then positioned himself over you.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he promised. “Keep saying it.”

As he carefully pushed into you, you continued to tell him you love him. You stared at him the whole time, willing your body to relax for him. He didn’t like it when you got so worked up, especially over the games he played in the bedroom. The thing with Neal was bad but it was over and you knew he wasn’t mad at you. He wouldn’t fuck you like this if he was.

You clutched onto his shoulders, trying to hold him as close to you as you possibly could. He was the one that grabbed your legs and cued you to wrap them around his body. His cock sliding into your pussy was a feeling you couldn’t understand why he’d left you deprived of.

Once his hips were settled against your thighs and he was completely buried inside you, you reached up to his face. You loved his cheekbones, you could trace them with your touch for days if he let you. And his beard, you loved feeling his beard under your fingertips.

He let you do this, explore him as if you could possibly forget anything after all the other times you did it. You remembered the first time he fucked you, you couldn’t stop staring, you couldn’t stop touching—he was so painfully beautiful. He was so patient with you, always had been, and now, despite how badly you felt his need to move, to fuck you, he was going to wait for you to be ready.

“You did this on purpose,” you muttered.

“Did what?”

“You didn’t fuck me. For 17 days. You…wanted me to make a scene—”

“That’s a pretty serious accusation.”

“I could take it to court and win,” you countered.

He smirked. “Could you? What’s my motive?”

“You like being possessive. You like dragging me out of places, you like bringing me home, you like reminding me who I belong to.”

“And were you reminded?”

“No one really belongs to anyone or anything at the end of the day—”

“No,” he interjected, tone sharp. You always liked that tone. “You belong to me.”

“Maybe…”

“You are mine,” he repeated. “And you’re going to say it or we’re going to have a long night.”

“I will say it if you admit this was your plan all along.”

“You think I wanted you to flirt with Neal?”

Your stomach flipped. “I wasn’t—”

He nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know, I didn’t mean to word it like that. I know you weren’t—”

You felt slightly like you were about to panic. Flirting with Neal? No. “Never, I would never—”

He shushed you. “I know, baby. I know you wouldn’t because you are a good girl. I promise I know that.”

You settled somewhat but that lingering feeling in the pit of your stomach was hard to ignore. Flirting with Neal? You couldn’t bear him thinking you would ever do that to him. Flirting in general with people Andy felt indifferent to was off the table unless you wanted to placate his desires. Certainly, he had to know that.

“I wanted to hear you beg,” he insisted. “That was what I wanted. I wanted honest begging because you are so fucking beautiful begging for my cock.”

You huffed. “Well, you should have asked.”

“I didn’t want to have to ask.”

“You could have given me a hint. I was going around your party trying to get your attention—”

“You had it, you always do. Now, tell me who you belong to.”

“I think we all belong to the stars.”

“No,” he sighed.

“Or the moon, people who experience menstruation especially. The moon controls us, it’s been studied by scientists. There are articles.”

“Scientific articles do not support that,” he asserted and you couldn’t help but laugh. Andy was exact. He didn’t believe in anything he couldn’t see or that couldn’t be proven. Even now, inside you, he couldn’t turn that part of his brain off.

“Baby,” he sighed as his hand came up to curl around your neck. It just rested there, a heavy reminder of all the times in the past he had held you like that, or those other times when he applied just the right amount of pressure. “I want to fuck you, I want to make you cry, I want you to be shaking after I’m done with you, I want to fill you up with my cum. Don’t you want that?”

You nodded, once again turned on beyond comprehension.

“Then be good and say what I want you to say. Don’t make me make you say it.”

“What if I want you to make me?”

“You don’t.”

Andy’s punishments were always so elaborate and such a blur. He knew how to reduce you to nothing but need, and you needed him so badly sometimes. He loved seeing you like that, but he didn’t always like taking you there. He knew how careful he needed to be during and after, so he reserved it for major misbehavior.

You brought one hand up and set it on his forearm. You could feel his skin and his muscles. “I belong to you.”

Just barely, as he stared at your face, his hold tightened. Your breath stuttered but you made sure not to get too worked up too soon. You didn’t want him to have to stop before he finished inside you.

“That can never happen again, baby.”

“I know. It never will. I’m so—”

He tightened his hand again. “Don’t say sorry.”

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t let you say the one word you so badly needed to say.

“I don’t blame you, sweetheart, I’m just saying…it can’t happen again.”

You caught the lead of his tone. “But what if it does?”

“I might have to make sure he knows that you’re mine.”

You wanted him to let the whole world know. You knew he saw your eyes light up because he smirked. “How would you do that?”

“I might have to let him see how I fuck you. I might have to show him how I can make you beg for me, or how willingly you bend over when I’m going to spank you. I might have to show him how wet you get after I mark up your ass, maybe how whiny you get when my hand is around your throat. But maybe I’ll just have to send him the video I’ve been recording tonight, how well you can suck my cock, how badly you want to.”

You were stunned for a moment—recording? Where was the camera? The idea of Andy recording you was such a turn on. You loved making videos for him, but you’d always wanted to see one where he was with you. “You’ve been recording?”

“Would you be okay with that if I was?”

“Yes. I want to watch you fuck me.”

“You’re such a good girl.” He pulled his hips back once and then snapped up noisily, pulling a moan from your throat. “You know how much I love that sound? When you can hardly breathe but you still make all those noises you know I want to hear.”

He leaned in to kiss you, hips stilled, hand still wrapped around your neck. It was brief, a reward, a reminder. You were being good and he loved you, but he was going to fuck you.

You broke away, nodding to let him know you were ready, that you wanted this. “Please.”

He rolled over so you were on top of him. He kept his hold on your neck to keep you sitting up and used his opposite hand to grab your ass. After he kneaded your skin hard enough he knew it would bruise, he spanked you loudly, harshly. Your body jerk forward, taking him in deeper than you knew was possible.

You whined, trying to pull back a little. He gripped your ass again and held you there. It was painful but exciting, you wanted him to push your limits tonight. He so rarely did, concerned with pleasing you second and treating you delicate first.

He let you go only to spank your other ass cheek. Again, you moved forward and you felt fuller than you ever had. You ached between your legs, almost uncomfortably but the idea of having him this deep in your body was making you wetter by the second. You were dripping, you could see how wet his skin was, how much of a mess he was making of your pussy.

“Ride me, sweetheart.”

You found a comfortable position, your hands on either side of his waist in the mattress. He settled his arm between your breasts so he could still see them moving as you began jerking your hips back and forth. They were sharp, abrupt movements because you wanted to come so bad, you could hardly think of anything else. Save for your disbelief over the fact that he was making you do this yourself. But you didn’t argue because the last thing you wanted was punishment for talking back.

He closed his hand more, every sound you made was short and strangled. You moved faster, knowing he was closer when he choked you harder. His free hand took one of your breasts. He was so delicate at first, a gentle, slow touch before he was pinching your nipple so hard you were whining. He smacked your breast and you shuddered, nearly falling forward onto him, but he kept you up. Mostly because he wanted to do it again to your other breast.

Every slap against your breasts—loud and stinging, always surprising because he didn’t want you to have the comfort of a pattern—was pushing you closer to your orgasm. You were mindlessly bouncing on his cock, uncaring of the pain you felt every time you came down just a little too hard for how big he was. You felt like an animal, like you were simply a victim to your body’s depraved, primal desires.

You finished first, screaming things you would be impressed if he actually understood. You could cry, the tension built over days was finally all gone.

He rolled over once more, taking his spot on top again.

You clung to him, legs and arms, pulling him in like you would die if he wasn’t close enough. You needed to feel his whole body against yours.

“Hear that, baby?”

Oh, you heard. You’d been trying to ignore it, but of course, not if Andy had any say in it.

“Hear how wet your pussy is?”

So wet. Every time he pulled out and pushed in, the noise would fill the room. You only nodded.

Since you were wrapped around him so tightly, it wasn’t difficult for him to grab your hip and move you up the bed with him. He set you against the headboard, the pillows under the small of your back, propping you up for him.

He was on his knees now for more leverage. You knew he was going to fuck you hard. “Look at this, baby.” He slowly pulled out and you turned down to watch. “See how messy you’re getting my cock?”

“Yes,” you whined.

He grabbed his cock, used it to drag up and down your cunt several times.

“Andy, please.”

He shushed you, a slow, calm action that contrasted when he smacked the head of his cock against your clit.

You gasped and your hips jerked forward.

“Stay still,” he warned.

He did it over and over, and enjoyed watching you fail at trying to stay seated on the bed. He thrust in completely, quick and hard, only to pull out and smack your clit again. This was his routine for what felt like an agonizing hour, but you knew it was nowhere near that long. You knew even he didn’t have that kind of patience.

You cried out when he finally buried himself inside you again. As he pushed forward, he pulled you down. His fingers found your clit and you were soon tumbling over that edge once more.

As he finished, he pulled you on top of him, lying back on the bed. One arm wrapped tight around your back to pin you against his chest, his opposite hand tangled in your hair tightly. He hid his face in the bend of your neck, grunting as his hips continued to rock just slightly.

He kept you there for several long moments until he had completely satisfied himself. You were intoxicated being this close to him. You angled your head as much as you could and kissed the side of his face.

He turned over, setting you on the bed as he pulled out. You watched him curiously, moving to sit up with him. He made a disapproving noise and you laid back again. Once again, he made his way to the dresser and grabbed his phone.

“You were seriously recording?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do I usually bluff?”

Nope, never.

“Now I have a reference if you ever forget how a good girl is supposed to act.”

You suppressed an eye roll.

“Open your legs.” He came closer, directing the camera at your pussy. He touched you, spreading his cum all over your skin, rubbing circles around your clit, just barely dipping his fingers into you.

You watched his face the whole time. You loved how much Andy loved you and when he stared at you after fucking you, it was hard to miss. He was obsessed with you and he never minded showing it.

For almost a month, you watched that video every day. You were fascinated by him, the way he moved, the way he touched you. After that, you started wanting to record more and Andy never minded.

requests to be tagged:

@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @kleohoneyao3 @cevans-fics

#andy barber x reader #my writing

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phantaloon-books · 3 years

Text

I was rereading the iconic reunion at baltimore and this came to me and I can't not write it (even though I have a half finished chapter waiting to be written for a fic for a whole different fandom but who cares right)

in which neil regrets realizes that the feds were on to something when they talked about witness protection program. brace yourselves, it's angst time bby. please bear with me, I don't write stuff like this, content and format wise.

so everyone knows what goes down in baltimore. everyone knows that famous college exy striker for the foxes neil josten has been the son of the butcher of baltimore all along, and that smth happened after he was kidnapped and tortured that resulted in the butcher and some associates to be killed. everyone knows that neil walked out alive, injured but alive. so when a few weeks, months later, associates of the butcher start getting raided and taken in custody, everyone knows exactly who opened his little mouth and revealed everything he knows (bc there's literally no one else who could know this stuff and would be willing to share with the fucking feds, no one has a death wish)

It's a slow process. It starts with the feeling of not being safe, which is ridiculous, because he hasn't been quite as safe as he is right now, with the foxes, his family, and most importantly with Andrew. They're on summer break, technically speaking, even if they're at campus for practice because they gotta train the new foxes. They're barely doing anything than hanging out together and training, but still Neil can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, that someone is watching him, but he doesn't say anything, because it doesn't make sense, he's just being paranoid, there's no need to panic.

Neil can swear he's being watched. He feels the dread whenever he's out of the dorm, when he's out running, when they go out to eat something, when they go to the mall, on their way to practice, at Eden's. But when he looks around there's no one looking, it's been weeks and nothing has happened, he hasn't seen anyone.

Neil can tell Andrew is growing suspicious of the way he checks out a place, the way his eyes trace every corner, every exit, because he's starting to fall back in old habits, and he knows Andrew hates it. But Andrew doesn't ask, he knows that Neil will speak when he feels ready, so he lets it go, even if he can't quite let got of the worry clawing at his heart.

But everything keeps going normally, things are fine, everything is fine fine fine. Neil doesn't talk about it, but it's fine really. Until it's not fine at all, but it's also too late to talk now because his head is fuzzy and throbbing, and he feels like he might throw up and he feels pain even if he's not sure where the pain is coming from. But he can't do anything now, he can't tell Andrew how he's been feeling dread for weeks, because a man whose name he doesn't even know but whose face is awfully familiar is standing right in front of him where he lies on the floor, and the situation is also awfully familiar.

Stop being a martyr. Oh Andrew would kill him. If Neil gets out of this alive, Andrew will kill him, because he left again. He didn't want to, he really didn't. He was out on a run while Andrew was in therapy with Bee and Aaron, a couple miles away from fox tower, when a car pulled up right in front of him, two men wearing hoods and sunglasses stepping out and standing in front of him. He came to a halt, trying his best to keep calm because who the hell were these men and what did they want and for fucks sake can this just stop? It would have been smart to turn around and try to get back to the tower but he can't ever keep his mouth shut can he?

"Look I don't know who you are, I don't care what you want, but you're in my way, so move away if you know what's best." He intended to go for more sarcastic, but he was doing his best not to panic, so that had to do.

"You're coming with us, get in the car, or we'll do this the hard way." Their voices said they wouldn't hesitate, but Neil laughed anyway, that smile he knew was the Butcher's resting on his lips. Anything to make the men leave. He opened his mouth and then- "The Minyard twins are at Dr. Dobson's office. Reynolds, Walker, and Wilds are at the mall. Hemmick, Boyd and Day are in the dorms. The newbies are at the dorms as well. Come with us the easy way and we'll let them walk out of their respective places alive, Nathaniel."

And he was fucked. Of course he hadn't been safe, he would never be safe. In fact no one he cared about would ever be safe. He should have known better. But he wasn't going to let the foxes be harmed.

"How do I know you won't kill them anyway?" The snark was gone, the smile vanished. His face was blank and dangerous, because he'd done this before. "I don't even know who you are, you're obviously not the big guys, and I don't remember seeing your faces."

"We don't want to attract unnecessary attention. All we care about is you. If you come, you spare us all the trouble. As for who we are, let's just say someone is pissed at the piece of shit that ruined everything."

"The Butcher's friends then. I can't argue with that, it's a habit of mine to fuck up. Ichirou won't be too happy if something happened." He played his strongest card but fuck it. The Moriyamas owed him protection, Ichirou himself had made a deal with him.

"The moment they turned their backs to the Wesninski and made a deal with Hatford, those Japanese shits mean nothing to us." These were desperate men apparently. If the Moriyamas were nothing, the FBI was even less. "Time is running Nathaniel, decide. You or them?"

Andrew would kill him, but they'd talked about it before. Neil had told Andrew. If it means losing you, then no. He would not put himself first. Hell, he'd told the others before, the Foxes were all he had, he wasn't going to risk them for himself, not for anything. He needed to keep them safe.

So now he's lying on the cold wooden floor of some house or shed or whatever, drowsy from whatever they drugged him with once he got in the car, and in pain after being beaten for the last hour or so. He didn't bother asking the man (who is obviously in charge and sent the two men) for a name, and honestly he still doesn't plan to. What was the point of that anyway? He just looks up at the cold brown eyes of the man standing over him, Neil's face as neutral as he could keep it despite the fear of not making it out alive threatening to pull him under. The man just stares at him, calculative eyes and cruel smile, and Neil can't take it.

"What, so you're just gonna stand there? I have better shit to do." He hears the slur in his voice, wonders if it's just the drugs or something else. A concussion is likely. He's met with silence, so he closes his eyes and lays his head down. Fuck he's tired of these situations. He truly will never be safe, no one will-

"You know, I was expecting so much more from you Nathaniel," the man says with a laugh, "I was told that you'd put up a fight, I thought this would be fun. They said you'd beg for your precious life, but you haven't even made an effort."

Whoever his source was, they definitely do not know Neil, or Nathaniel for that matter. Not only is he not going to risk the men hurting the others, but he isn't going to fight, not against so many of them, not when running would be more likely to get him out alive. He isn't going to let them know that. "First go fuck yourself, and second, this isn't remotely close to entertaining to what I've been through, maybe if it was more interesting."

What does Andrew say? Regret is worthless? It seems right, because he can't find regret in what he said, even if his face is a bloody mess (what's new?) and his body shakes with shivers, after his head is held underwater so many times. No, he doesn't regret it. Instead he finds himself laughing a hollow thing.

"Y'know at least others have had a point, this time it's just for the fun of it, and it's not being much fun." His voice cracks a couple times, hoarse from coughing up water.

"You're right though, it is for fun. You cost me absolutely everything Nathaniel. Did you know the feds and the Moriyamas have been after us for months? Hunting us like we're rabbits, all because you decided to be a dipshit and open your mouth. You should be dead. You should have died ten years ago, back in March, anytime. All your existence caused us is trouble. And ratting us to the feds wasn't enough was it? No you told Ichirou all of the Butcher's men were loose ends, too." The man took a deep breath, composing himself. "So yes Nathaniel, this is for fun. This is payback, you've cost many lives, this is retribution for speaking, and I'm gonna enjoy seeing you have fun for as long as I can."

At some point, after hours, he's left alone in the dark, in the cold. He knows he’s in pain. He’s pretty sure his arm is broken, and so are several ribs. He knows he should be in a lot of pain, but he's just numb. Regret is worthless. Because even if he feels even worse than how he felt last winter at Evermore, he doesn’t regret it. He can’t be sure the guy’s men were truly going to kill the Foxes, but he doesn’t regret coming here to make sure the others don’t suffer more than they already have because of him. He wonders if Andrew will forgive him. He didn’t leave proof that he didn’t want to leave this time. Would Andrew think he left them - him? God, he hopes not. Would Andrew look for Neil or leave it thinking that Neil wanted to leave?

It doesn’t really matter, though. Neil is so tired. This time isn’t like when he was on the run or when he went to Evermore or when Lola took him. While with the Ravens, Kevin knew he was there at least, if anything were to happen, a person would know where to look somehow. At Baltimore, several people knew the most likely place to find him; Uncle Stewart, the Hatfords, Kevin again. He has no idea of where he is, or who took him, and no one knows he’s been taken in the first place. No one will ever find him.

Maybe it’s better that way, he thinks. No one will have to deal with the burden of him or his disappearance or his death, because no one will know. The simple thing would be to assume he ran. He hopes they assume he ran. Maybe they’ll be hurt, but haven’t they been expecting him to run? They won’t make it to championships without him considering Jack is an awful striker, but Kevin will manage. Andrew - Andrew is the one who expects him to run the most, maybe he’ll take it nicely. Neil hopes he takes it nicely. Guilt blossoms among the nothingness in his chest, but he can’t take it back, and he doesn’t want to. It’s better this way. No one will find him, but that’s fine. He wonders what the Moriyamas will do. He doesn’t want to think about that. He thinks of Andrew, the kisses, the care, the love, the nights spent together. Thank you, you were amazing. He wishes he could tell him how much he cares one last time. He feels something wet slip down his face. He can’t tell if it’s water, blood or tears. He sighs. He thinks of Andrew, and his eyes slip close.

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andrew-minyards-bitch · 3 years

Text

One of Andreil dates (au: high school)

Senior year and the beginning of a crappy high school love story, neil is your everyday jock (he’s in the exy team and he plays the role of a striker)

The twins moved to Palmetto High School around second semester, right after winter break ended

Aaron, Andrew’s twin was known for his intelligence and knowledge of subjects, there was also rumor flying around that the number one star of the exy team was interested in him, none other than Kevin Day himself

Andrew though was just there, he didn’t fit a typical stereotype, he was more like the background character in movies that were only mentioned once or twice

Most people tend to ignore him and Andrew wasn’t complaining but Neil Josten was not “most people”

The striker paid attention to Andrew’s existence more than he should which led to minor setbacks on the exy court which Kevin told him to fix

So here was Neil one wednesday morning, building up the courage to talk to the scarier Minyard twin whom his traitorous heart seemed devoted to

Andrew and Neil shared three classes one of which was pe and if Neil showed off a little more when Andrew is present then no one had to know

Neil had wanted to talk to Andrew when they were told to run the tracks but Neil’s running and Andrew’s snail paced walking never matched up

Time passed quickly and suddenly the school bell was ringing, signaling the dismiss of school ending

Neil packed his bag quickly and rushed to find Andrew, Neil caught up to Andrew at the parking lot right before he could get inside his car

Kevin was also present and Neil could see a tiny scrap of paper being handed to Aaron but he ignored it, it was none of his business after all

Kevin: Neil, what’re you doing here?

Neil: Uhh you told me to solve the problem, remember?

Kevin nodded in understanding, says goodbye to Aaron with a charming smile and made his way towards the court

Andrew looks up to Neil and wonders what the fuck he could possibly want

Neil: so.. I was wondering if you’d like to hang out sometime

Aaron: are you asking him out?

Andrew: I’d rather not, Aaron shut up

Neil: Oh I just thought it would be nice if I could just spend some time with you, if you wouldn’t mind

Andrew: your head is full of garbage if you think I’d make myself spend even more time with you outside of school

Neil was quite dejected by Andrew’s reaction and didn’t have the heart to hide it

Andrew could see it clear as day so he scoffed lightly but was also trying to ignore the tug on his heart seeing that look on Neil’s face

It was true, Andrew did talk to him in class though he was hesitant, Neil was usually the one who started the conversation first but Andrew sometimes reply which he counts as a win

Neil discovered a trick after trying to talk to Andrew but failing miserably was that if he bought some chocolates in class and offered it to Andrew and Andrew was more likely to respond

Andrew: fine I accept your pathetic offer

Neil’s heart leapt with excitement as he watches Andrew speed out the lot with his expensive Maserati

He didn’t really have a solid plan on what event he wants to take Andrew to but he’ll think of it

Thinking about what Andrew would like Neil recovered a buried memory of Andrew offhandedly making a comment about how he craved ice-cream

Neil had been horrified at the time (it was in February where it was still winter and the air was chilly and the heat were turned full on blast)

But now that it was the middle of spring and the weather was just the right temperature Neil figured there was no harm in an ice-cream date

Neil told Andrew about his idea the next day and Andrew had seem pleased at first but quickly panicked and rush out the room

Despite his actions Andrew still agreed to get ice-cream

Saturday finally came and Neil picked Andrew up around five in the afternoon

“You’re paying” was the first thing Andrew said as he got into Neil’s car

Neil couldn’t help but let out a laugh “Of course, I was the one who asked you on the date after all”

Andrew turned his head, surprised “this is a date?”

Neil panicked for a quick second, “I thought I made that clear? Did I not? Dammit that was careless of me, I hope you didn’t think this was a scam. You can still back out if you want, I’ll take you home right away”

Andrew’s cheeks to Neil’s astonishment was a slight reddish hue, “No it’s okay I’m not passing up free ice-cream”

“Are you just saying that or you actually want to spend some quality time with me?” Neil teased

“Shut up and drive, Josten,” Andrew said while rolling his eyes but Neil was too content on being near Andrew’s presence to damper his mood

When they got to the ice-cream shop Andrew started ordering as soon as they found a seat

Neil was looking at him with a soft glance which Andrew tried to ignore but addressed after five seconds of Neil staring holes in Andrew’s face

“What?” “Nothing”

“Actually,” Neil started, “Don’t you think that’s a bit too much sugar?”

“Are you scared to pay for it?”

“Of course not, I’m not broke you know. I’m just sayin maybe that’s not the healthiest thing to eat.”

“Fine, I’ll get some fruits”

Neil didn’t order anything, he couldn’t stand the smell of sweet much less eat it

“Then why did you take me to an ice-cream shop if you’re not going to eat anything?” Andrew asked as he digs up all the ice-cream and ignoring the fruits that were on the top

“I remembered you mentioning you liked ice-cream once so I thought why not?” Neil admitted, sheepishly. “You’re not eating the fruits anyways so why don’t I eat that for you?” Neil asked as an afterthought

Andrew agreed after thinking about it for a second and fed him the fruits

“You could have just asked one of the workers for another spoon,” Neil commented.

“Shut up and eat your damn fruits, Josten”

And this is the story for Neil and Andrew’s first date in an alternative universe

Thank @fictional-loves-are-better for telling me “stop being lazy, get ur shit together and complete the many many drafts you have”,, this is an exaggeration but you get the deal and now here we are :))

#when ya think about it..Neil’s basically a trust fund kid #that is if his dad weren’t involved in the yakuza #also Andrew deserves to be treated like royalty fuck off #this was basically just a comfort fic #saw a post about how this fandom ran with Neil and fruits and Andrew and ice cream so I ran away with both :)#little kevaaron sprinkle for the soul #not making any promises but I might write a kevaaron version (don’t be disappointed if I don’t bc my mental stabili sucks)#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #tfc #neil josten #andreil #kevin day #aaron minyard #kevaaron

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fredheads · 3 years

Note

I would like to hear your thoughts about parentdale and the new killers album

thank god i have many!!!!

all the songs about opioid addiction.... enough said on that point

wow i rly thought i could answer this without a read more but i have LOTS TO SAY!!!!!!! everything else under the cut:

quiet town... how it's about the dark underbelly of this small town and how people willfully look away from tragedy and how tragedy manifests itself in that kind of community and how it does or doesnt fit the narrative already scripted for this place... "things like that aint supposed to happen in this quiet town, families are tight, good people still dont deadbolt their doors at night" like shut up!! parentdale... this one to me is about the generational trauma handed down from their own parents and how it repeats itself... and how the narrative of "this is a good town nothing bad can happen here" existed for artie and bunny and prudence and everyone too and some of them (fp) know that was always bullshit but others (fred) were fed the narrative that the good old days were better and bought into that to an extent until they couldnt anymore... its about all the bad shit that happened to them when they were kids and how it was swept under the rug. oscars death comes to mind too...

terrible thing.... would it be unkind of me to call it fps song... i mean really its all of them when they were teens locked away in their bedrooms fucked up and the terrible things they were on the verge of were many (the abortion alice didnt get comes to mind but there were much worse things too) and also the way the first lyric ("the parking lot is rammed with shotgun pickup trucks/ at the jones rubber plant where all the guys end up/beer-drinking boy scouts living life like they ain't stuck") HITS!!! for fredsythe. and its a masterpiece of 'this town is a machine and spits you out into this hopeless mold where you just drink with the boys after working all day' and how thats fps story but also how its subtly about masculinity and the failure to fit that mold is also a failure to live up to a masculine ideal... much to think about.

cody is almost my favorite track off the album I love it so much. there's no character I think of specifically for it but the way Brandon flowers said it was an amalgamation of guys older brothers he knew is making me go batshit feral. "Bottle rockets on an August night/Raid the coolers in the trucks/If we're lucky, we'll get loud and we'll drink/Whiskey from a plastic jug" is excellent parentdale small town tomfoolery imagery too...

when sleepwalker said "everyone is afraid of something even the strongest man alive" that was for hiram lodge 🥺i cant say more its just a feeling

runaway horses can be any of their relationships that almost worked out but did not

in the car outside is another of my favourites FRICCKK the first 2 verses give me halice (especially "She's got this thing where she puts up the walls so high/It doesn't matter how much you love/It doesn't matter how hard you try") and then the 3rd is fremione ("I dropped a line to a flickering high school flame/We laughed about all the ways that our lives had changed/She’s up the road, about thirty-five miles north/Got two little boys in school, just had a real bad divorce/And in a moment of weakness/I told her if she ever needed a helping hand/I would lend, swear to God") wow glory days who... and then "it's like the part of me that's screaming not to jump gets lost in the sound of the train its a lot" ... footloose screaming at trains hours

in another life.... is so deeply parentdale it hurts!! its for all of them realizing they turned out these small town cliches because they didn't have a choice and looking back on all their missed opportunities... ("I passed a couple of kids holding hands in the street tonight/They reminded me of us in another life" could literally be any of them..) ("When that jukebox in the corner/Stops playing country songs of stories that sound like mine" SCREAMS SHUT UP!!! its about class too....) and then the killer... "I spent my best years laying rubber on a factory line I wonder what I would have been in another life" that's FOR FRED ANDREWS BABY! and to an extent artie... like how his father made all these sacrifices for him and might have been anything in another life but fred carries this guilt around.... it runs so deep...

desperate things gives me such bruce springsteen state trooper ballad type vibes but I skip it every time anyway lmfaoooo.... that said...... sierra and tom??? ok....

pressure machine is for all of them!! the way it's about having your hope slowly crushed, ("hope will set your eyes agleam" is them when they were young teens so hopeful.... fp thinking he could be on the football team and pretend to be northside, Penelope thinking she was being adopted by a loving family, alice thinking she could overcome her roots, fred thinking he could play pro ball, etc) growing up in this small town where everyone expects something different of you and you lean into some expectations, you fight against others, but either way your surroundings and upbringing and that pressure forms who you are and then you've lost your innocence and your life is just slipping away faster and faster ... i think this is the best song on the album by far I adore her

and then the getting by ("I know some who've never seen the ocean" ) and these small town people, how there's dignity in this simple living that their parents had and all they can do is get up every day and "hold on till the getting's good" and that's what they've always done... tis parentdale

#this was... an essay #parentdale #i used to listen to battle born literally every day before school and now I listen to pressure machine... intellectualism

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aflyingcontradiction · 3 years

Text

The Magnus Archives Relisten: Episode 89 - Twice as Bright

Jon: Right. But no more abattoir metaphors, please. Jude: Suppose it’s not really me, is it?

Yeah, too Fleshy.

Jon: I just have a few questions. Did you burn down a section of Gwydir Forest last year? Jude: Not alone, but yes. You should have seen how devastated they were, such a loss. Jon: I’m sure the Forestry Commission were mortified. Why? Jude: Stop that! And it was because Nikola Orsinov asked us to.

Jon doesn't even know what he's doing and Jude is getting all bristly, like a scared cat hissing.

Jon: I just… er, you were a friend of Agnes Montague, correct? Jude: She’s not one of your little stories. Jon: According to the statement of Jack Barnabas, she very much is.

Anyone going to throw things at me if I say "Oooh, burn!" in this context? Because, this is very much an Ooooh burn sort of situation.

Jon: Yes, yes, I understand, you could easily kill me, I’m at your mercy, blah, blah, blah. I have heard it before. And from things much scarier than you.

Jeez, Jon, where's all THIS coming from all of the sudden? Man, I wish I ever went from 'exhaustedly done with the world's shit' to 'I'm giving the world its shit right back!' like that!

Jude: Are you trying to talk me into killing you? If I wanted, I could reach through your chest like runny wax, and hold your heart while it cooked. No-one would even notice, if I didn’t give you time to scream.

Oh god, I love Jude. Every other avatar we've met is all quiet menace until they go full-monster and even then they're just 'JooOoon, coming to fiiiiind youuuu'. And here's Jude just CHEWING the goddamn scenery with relish, cutting things asunder with her edge. I've said this multiple times to people while discussing TMA but Jude is just basically the navy seal copypasta of avatardom and I'm enjoying her so much right now!

Jude: Hard to say. When I look at you I feel that burning liquid pain, eager to flow out and purify your rotten carcass, but I feel that a lot. Jon: Oh. M-More or less than normal? Jude: Hard to say when every nerve ending’s on fire. Hard to tell degrees. Jon: Third degree, maybe?

I cannot tell you which of the two I want to squeal at more right now. I adore this entire dialogue so much.

Jude: Oh please, your god is nothing! The Eye, Beholding, Ceaseless Watcher, whatever you call it, that’s all it does, it watches and knows, sitting bulbous and comfortable in the ignorance of infinite knowledge. I serve a reckoning, a surging tide of destruction and pain.

Okay, but you still react like a cat that's been sprayed with water whenever Jon asks you a question, Jude, love, you're not fooling anyone...

Jude: The unfathomable contest of eternal forces is not the only reason I might want someone dead.

This is important right here. Obviously the idea that avatars are still their own people, regardless of the Entity they serve, became really obvious somewhere along the line, but at this point in my first go I was still basically thinking in terms of "Hm, well, this power and that power interact in this way... wait, that makes no sense..." and sort of discounting that it's not always ABOUT the powers, despite how obvious that was!

Jon: Statement of Jude Perry, regarding… some advice.

Jon just vacillates wildly between fear and being so DONE with Jude's bullshit and I'm enjoying every minute of it.

Jude: The pain is sensational. You feel your flesh cooking, your nerves screaming out as they die exquisitely. Your whole body changes texture as you become that which feeds the fire. In that agonising, beautiful transformation, you can feel it ignite again and again and again.

Okay, now she's just making self-immolation sound tempting...

It was Agnes, of course. I don’t know where she found me, I only remember sitting in a booth with a beautiful young woman who smelled like matches and incense.

Well, someone's certainly smitten...

And with each act of glorious, hateful destruction, I felt my god’s love embrace me, consume me, give me life. Any feelings of pity or mercy I might have had for the poor woman I fed from were cauterised.

Ah, come on, like they existed to need cauterising in the first place...

And so I ended it. For all the agony and pain on Gretchen’s face, she didn’t seem surprised when I doused myself in kerosene and set it alight. I think she screamed. She must have screamed.

Tbh, Gretchen may have been traumatised for life but Jude seems to have lost interest in her after, so that was probably fucking lucky for poor Gretchen here.

Jon: Michael? (...) Corridors, weird limbs, laughs like a… headache? Jude: What? No. He’s pale, got a big, weird scar. Smells of, um… Jon: Oh, ozone! Jude: Yeah, that’s the one. Hangs around with the Fairchilds sometimes.

I love that the podcast is lampshading the fact that they've got two recurring characters named Michael (AND one Mikaele on top but at least he's usually referred to by his last name). I wonder at what point Johnny went "Whoops, I may have created a confusion." (I mean, not that it's unrealistic, my UK friend group-and-adjacent-people had enough Andrews, Johns and Matts that they basically all ended up with weird nicknames but it's just a bad idea to have identical names in fiction.)

Jude: Come on. It won’t hurt. (...) I lied. Jon: - SCREAMING IN INCREASING AGONY -

I mean, first of all, duh, yeah, OF COURSE SHE LIED! But also, Johnny is not a bad actor. The scream reminded me a little of that one time that my partner managed to scald a hand with boiling water while making tea (one of the worst sounds I've ever heard, incidentally, would like to not hear that again.)

My impression of this episode

First of all, I adore Jude. Don't get me wrong, I don't mean I'd be friends with her (I mean, duh, she was despicable as a human being and is now a fully devoted servant of the Entity-of-torment-and-loss, having near-orgasms over the idea of making people suffer, so...) but as a character she's just so beautifully over the top! It's fun! And Jon's interaction with her is incredibly interesting because, well, this may be the first time that Jon meets anything Entity-adjacent that is actually afraid of HIM (and yeah, Jude may be putting on a tough act, but she seems fucking terrified.) That was just really fun to watch, to be honest. A little bit of ... vicarious power fantasy, perhaps, at least until Jude turns the tables again. This was just a really enjoyable episode!

#tma relisten #the magnus archives

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kms753 · 3 years

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So I'm writing a story about a reunion of the wilds girls six years after the island basically fatin calls the girls after they won the lawsuit against gretchen and invites them all to Hawaii and this is chapter 1 so far. I also havent proof read it so there are probably alot of spelling mistakes. Here goes eek.

Toni and Martha.

Toni had been living with Martha ever since the island. Shelby is a basketball coach at a local highschool while Martha works as a guidance counselor at the same school. Their friendship had been through a few rough patches in the past six years but they are still as thick as thieves. "Marty B you home!" Toni yells walking through the front door and kicking her shows of. She walks into the kitchen and shuffles through the mail on the kitchen counter

And dosent see anything court related and that's when her phone starts buzzing. She checks the caller ID and sees Fatins name she answer it. "Hey Fatin what's up?" She asks putting all the scattered mail back into a neat pile. "So you know how we one the lawsuit against that evil bitch? Yeah well anyways so I was thinking that we should a get that trip to Hawaii we deserve oh please say yes please please?" Toni takes a deep breath and tries to take in all she just heard. "Wait are you asking me to come to Hawaii with you? Why?" Martha walks into the room and is puzzled and mouths "who is it?" Toni replies by putting the phone on speaker and Martha smiles at the sound of her over excited friend. "Not just you obviously but all if us Me, You, Marty, Leah who has already agreed to come, The Reids, Dot and She who shall not be named" toni sighs refusing to answer until she looks up at Martha begging for her to say yes. Eventually she agrees "Fine we will come under one condition...I don't have to speak to her" faton agrees after hesitating and hangs. "Thankyou you will not regret this. We better start packing if we leave in three days" Martha runs off gidily leaving toni suddenly regretting her choice she huffs and then follows Martha.

Nora and Rachel.

Rachel and nora only hang out on the weekends when Nora comes around to Rachel's Apartment for take out. They sat down to enjoy Chinese and watch some TV when Nora's phone started ringing. She saw it was Fatin and automatically pit it on speaker. "Hey Nora you with your sister? Nevermind dumb question Hey Rachel, Do you guys want to go to Hawaii with me and the other girls it will be so much fun?" Nora just puts her take out down on the code table and is about to speak when Rachel cut her off "We would love to" fatin replies "Great all are tickets are booked I'll email it to you Leah,Marty and Toni have already agreed there are just two Texans I need to ask" she then hangs up "what do you mean we would live to?!" Nora asks in an angry tone. Rachel replies with a simple pat on her shoulder with her One and only hand "Realx live a little" she then walked out of the room leaving Nora utterly shook.

Dot.

Dot had just got out the shower and was drying her hair when a familiar name flashed across her screen. She answered but before she could even say hello the extremely hyper girl on the other side was shouting down her ear "Dot get ready bitch your coming to Hawaii with me and your other 6 besties I booked your ticket and it should be in your email around Now also pack bitch we leave in three days" all Dot could reply with was "okay" and Fatin hung up she then went to pack her bag for her trip to Hawaii.

This call was the one Fatin had been dreading most .One Blonde Texan princess. She picked up the phone and dialled the number that she hoped still works.

Shelby.

She was sat at the dining room table reading through papers and documents and other important stuff blocking out any and all noise. When her husband walked through the front door she new exactly where he had been and was getting quite fed up of him. "Who was it?" She asked without taling her eyes of her work "you wouldn't know her" he replied taking his coat off hanging it up and then slipping his shoes off and respectfully putting them in the corner. Shelby continues working and then turns to face the man she had once loved or eatleast thought she had. "Just get out of my sight please Andrew I cant deal with you in top if everything else" she said with an exaughsted tone. He looked at her and then said "Please dont speak to me like that in my own home" she scoffed and replied with "your home right it's not like I paid for most of it and it's also not like my name is on the lease" he shook his head and walked upstairs tripping over a small stuffed animal on the way. Shelby got up to make another cup of coffee when her phone rang. A number flew across her screen. She recognised the last three numbers but she just knew it couldn't be who she thought it was. "Hello?" She said with her fake pageant voice. "Hey shelby it's me" Fatin said not to happily. Shelby took a step back in disbelief the last time she talked to this girl was three years ago. She had kept in contact with fatin and only fatin to keep updates on the girls but that contact soon stopped. "Hi what's up?" She asked pouring her coffee and sitting back down in her seat. "I was wondering if you wanted to have a little reunion with the rest of the girls in Hawaii it's all paid for and I've emailed you the ticket, we leave in three days tho all you have to do is say yes" shelby hesitated at first but then thought she could use the break from life "yes" she could use the break from church. "Yes?" Fatin asked shocked. She could use the break from Andrew. "Yes it would be nice to see you again-" but she is cut off from a loud bang like someone had fallen and its followed by a cry "- yes I'll be there I've got to go bye" she hung up. 'Shit' she whispered as she stood up to check on the loud noise. "ANDREW!!" She screamed louder and angrier then ever

Authors Note.

Please let me know what you guys think I dont know how to turn replies on so just message me thankyou.

#shelby goodkind #toni shalifoe #martha blackburn #nora reid #rachel reid #leah rilke #fatin jadmani #the wilds

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justjessame · 3 years

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Starting Over Chapter 17

Now I know most people would think that hearing their best friend dangling a carrot of temptation like “did you go through ANYTHING in the shed” would have them rushing out with a flashlight to their backyard and unlocking the damn thing to see what might be waiting for them. Or at the very least, since it was starting to grow dark, a slightly less dramatic start might be the bedroom across the fucking hall from theirs?

Yeah, well, I’ve never really checked the “normal” box on any fucking form and coming back from where the fuck ever Thanos the big purple peckerhead snapped me off to didn’t change that personality trait. Sorry to disappoint.

If Connie was coming over to force me to face whatever was in my dad’s workshop and whatever else my parents left me, with Bryn in tow, I should probably make sure that I had something to keep her mini me occupied. After I grabbed a sandwich, some chips, and glass of tea I headed up to my room - where a stash of my childhood shit that I kept “just in case” lived and hoped I could find something that the three year old would find fascinating.

Morning dawned as they had since I returned. Gasping, shivery, but now with the addition of the murmurs from the television that I left on thanks to Bucky Barnes. My hand was reaching for my cell phone before I made the conscious decision to do it, and I sighed when I didn’t see a pineapple waiting for me. It was still early, so I took a beat to run through my mental checklist of what I’d put in place downstairs for Bryn.

I’d taken my copies of the princess movies downstairs along with a few dolls and some picture books that I’d loved. There was a tea set and a few stuffies and I hoped that she wouldn’t be too bored while her mommy was dealing with my bullshit.

While I was considering what I should make for lunch, or if I should toss together something for breakfast too, my phone chirped. It was still beside me on the bed, so I didn’t have to reach. Thinking it would be Connie, I lifted it up - I had never seen a phone number like it before, but there it was - my pineapple. I shook my head even as my smile grew. At least I knew he was alive. That was one good thing going for me today.

Connie called a few minutes later, telling me that she’d be over after she got Bryn cleaned up after breakfast - answering one of my questions right off the bat. I told her I’d hop in the shower and be waiting for them.

“Don’t make a fuss,” she warned me. “Bryn’s three, the fact that she’s never been to your house makes it like Disneyworld automatically.” I rolled my eyes. “I mean it, Brooke.”

“I know you do, Connie,” I agreed, sliding out of bed and moving to the closet to grab something to wear, but then I realized that I didn’t know what we were about to do. “Um, are we going to be digging into something dusty and gross?”

She snorted and when I didn’t react she went so silent I thought she hung up on me, but a check of the phone told me she was still there. “You’re joking?” I assured her I wasn’t. “What the fu -” she stopped and I waited while she apologized to Joey, apparently Bryn was picking up some “adult language” and sharing it with the other children at daycare and preschool - I snorted, like those kids didn’t already hear that shit at home. “What would your dad have in his workshop that we’d need to DIG, Brooke?” I could HEAR her eyes rolling. “Wear what you normally do, you fu -” I heard her groan and mutter to herself about politically correct nonsense. “Go shower, we’ll be there in about an hour.”

I had ice tea, soda, juice, and water, along with some of Bucky’s beer in the fridge, but I highly doubted that Connie would consent to letting Bryn partake in that. I was showered and dressed, and was taking stock of the kitchen while I waited for them to come. I had sandwich stuff on hand, along with some staples, and if all that failed there were enough takeout menus in the drawer to keep us fed.

The knock came at around the hour mark, and when I opened the door Bryn was staring up at me like she was seeing me for the very first time - again. She really did look around the house like it was an adventure, and I could see the “I told you so” building in Connie’s face.

Showing them the living room, where I’d set up the “play area”, you’d have thought Christmas came early. The tiny tot squealed and clapped her hands, then she was having a tea party with the dolls and stuffies after choosing the first princess movie to play while they partied. I supplied the “tea” -water, Connie insisted - promising I’d thank her during the cleanup, while filling a sippy cup with some juice for the hostess.

With Bryn occupied, I thought we’d get to work, but Connie shook her head and pulled me into the dining room, adjacent to the living room so we could keep an eye and ear on Bryn. With glasses of tea in front of us, she sighed and I got worried.

“When IT happened,” Connie was looking at her glass, finger tracing a drop of condensation as it dripped down the glass. “I started calling you immediately. As soon as the news hit, as soon as the first moment we knew SOMETHING was going on -” She looked up and I nodded, I figured she would have, along with Mom and Dad. “Your dad came home, he ran to your room because he knew you’d planned on staying in and being lazy.” Connie smiled, the memory of Dad making her sad, but also nostalgically happy.

I opened my mouth, but was at a loss for what to say. What could I say? It’s ok? I was Snapped into non-existence, but I’m here now, so we’re cool? I mean, we were, but clearly she wanted to tell me something.

“He ran in, seeing a thousand texts and calls from me, but it was what he FELT that got him.” I squinted at her, confused. She reached out and took my hand. “When I came over, since I couldn’t get in touch with you, he was with your mom and she was in pieces - falling apart because you weren’t here and everything that you’d take with you if you went out was still here, but he wasn’t. He was adamant, Brooke, absolutely adamant that you were coming back.” “He was hopeful, Connie, that’s all.” She shook her head and I sighed, but her hand squeezed mine.

“Your dad and mom were the MOST pragmatic people I’ve ever known, Brooke. Hell, everyone in this neighborhood agrees.” I knew what she meant, our family was the no nonsensical, straight to the point people. We didn’t do sugarcoating. “When Baxter got hit by the car when we were ten -” I rolled my eyes, her dog, a sweet darling of a mutt. “Everyone, including my brothers were telling me that he was gonna be fine, that he was gonna pull through and live to play fetch another day, but your dad took me aside and -”

“Told you that sometimes dogs don’t pull through, that sometimes they’re not strong enough, but not to worry because you took Baxter to the Feast of St. Francis and he was blessed and that meant that he’d be safe on the other side and waiting for you.” I remembered, vividly because I’d been just as sad and upset.

“Exactly. So when a man like your dad, Andrew Ashley, tells me that you and all the other people who disappeared into nothing are going to come back one day? I believe him.” She gave my hand another squeeze and I thought, ok now we can get to work, but she wasn’t done. “Your mom, she didn’t get there as fast.” She let my hand go and took a drink from her glass. “She avoided your room like you’ve been avoiding the shed and their bedroom.” She was smirking at the knowledge that she knew me so well. “When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted something of yours with me, Brooke.”

“That’s where it went,” I shook my head and she grinned at me. “I wondered, it’s hung in my window since I came home from that nightmare.”

“Since WE came home from that nightmare, you mean.” Connie’s smile was firmly locked in place. “I called up your mom and told her the news, asking for something to keep with me, and she finally went into your room.” I waited, wondering why it took crossing a threshold into a damn room for something to click into place? “And that was it, Alice Ashley came out just as convinced as your dad. She looked so much more at peace, Brooke. She went along with your dad, but knowing it for herself, it was like a weight came off of her.”

“So they just knew?” I didn’t get it, not even a little bit. “How?”

Connie shook her head. “No idea, but I do know this - when two of the most stocic and staid people in the community tell you that people will come back, you believe them. And I did.”

“What’s in the shed?” I wanted a head’s up. Some kind of hint, something to go on. “Why do you think it’s important for me to know now?”

“It’s important, dumbass,” she shot a look toward the living room and let out a relieved breath when she realized that Bryn hadn’t heard her slip. “Because what’s in the shed has been there since BEFORE you got Snapped into wherever, but we’re not going there first. We’re going upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” I was confused and only growing more so. “Why?”

Connie sighed, like she was sick of my shit already. “It’s time to show you that your parents knew you better than you know yourself, Brooke.”

Bryn’s tea party became a portable one. Upstairs to my room, where she got to play on the floor while the television played another princess movie. She was having fun, which made one of us.

My parents’ bedroom door loomed far larger than it really was - and it was firmly closed.

“Open it, Brooke.” Connie nudged me, and I bit my lip. “For God’s sake, it’s a door.”

“Yeah, it is.” I agreed, a door that I wasn’t really excited to open. What if Mom’s perfume lingered? What if Dad’s cologne does? What if nothing about them lingers? I took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob.

The room looked the same, but foreign. A hint of both of them seemed to lurk just out of reach, as if I could almost grasp it if I could find it, but where was it?

Their bed was still made up in the same sheets and bedding that Mom had picked months before I’d gone away. Her cosmetics were still lining the vanity table that Dad had created in his workshop, craftsmanship that could only happen by hand. A mirror she’d found and had re-done hung on the wall behind it. My reflection stared back at me, a sad mimicry of the woman she’d been.

Dad’s table still had his reading glasses, the pair he kept solely for reading before bed and the remote, the lamp tilted so he’d have the perfect lighting even if it would annoy Mom’s need for perfection. I wondered what book he read last, if he had it tucked in the drawer, but Connie’s voice cut through my reverie.

“See these?” She was staring at a set of photographs that my parents had framed and hung on their wall. They were black and white, and I knew them very well - I’d taken them. I nodded. “When you took that job that you were muddling through the commute every day?” I started to say something, but she snorted and kept talking. “Your dad had reprints of these made and did some research, he sent out feelers and found out that you have an eye. A talent, something that we ALL knew, including your dumb ass, but instead of taking that scholarship that you were offered to do something with your artistic talent, you went and -” She sighed. “He didn’t want you to settle, Brooke, neither of them did.”

“We couldn’t afford for me to play artist, Connie,” I owed them more than to play at photography. “Besides, these were just shots I took to -”

“To set up the cheap and old camera that our high school gave you to use for yearbook,” she nodded, “I know. And yet,” she walked to my parents’ closet and pulled out a huge fucking box. “This is ALL the presents for all the birthdays and holidays you missed, including the birthday that came right after the Snap. Come on, Brooke, let’s go have a party with Bryne.”

#bucky barnes/oc #the falcon and the winter soldier #alternate universe #fluff #slow burn #eventual smut

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cowboylikedean · 3 years

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folklermore spn finale: the last great american dynasty

Okay so this post took forever to write for a couple reasons.

First of all, this one is special in that it has two readings for my grief.

The first one is terrible and heartbreaking and honestly I don’t want to spend a lot of time on it. I see Andrew Dabb as THE great villain of Supernatural, and he truly had a marvelous time ruining everything. The sarcastic nature of the song goes in to speak to the fact that I feel legitimately crazy for how much I blame him. It’s sad and heartbreaking. I think about it sometimes when i hear this song and instantly force myself to stop thinking about it and go back to the other view.

So the other view is more what you might expect with the vibe of the song... but it is SO HARD for me to put into words, I found. So I’m sorry if this is messy and disjointed and all over the place.

I spoke in cardigan’s post about how I’m not the fan the show wanted and there’s a large part of the narrative in the folkermore-spn-finale feelings for me that expresses not being the fan the narrative wanted or needed.... Most of the time this is brought up in this, it’s angry, or sad, or whatever... but this time... this time it celebrates it.

I had a marvelous time ruining everything.

Putting this under a cut because it’s very long. I didn’t mean for this to get this long rip.

I let myself sink into the feelings of wonder and awe I felt when I first fell in love with the show and then let myself find the conclusion that IF I did in fact “ruin everything” (aka the show) by not being the fan the show needed me to be to enjoy it, at least I had a good fucking time!

From that first bit where Taylor sings that Rebekah’s salt box house took her mind of St. Louis.... Supernatural took my mind off my life too. I remember when I first watched the show, I was 20 and I’d just failed out of school (the first time). I was lying to my mother and her husband (who I lived with) about going to school. I rode the city bus at the time because I didn’t have my license yet. I’d leave the house and say I was going to the bus stop down the street. Instead, I hid in the woods that separated my neighborhood from my grandfather’s back yard. I worked at his house “after school” every day from 4-6, taking care of his house, doing light cleaning and cooking, helping him adjust to being a double amputee so it worked out nice. Every night I pre-loaded 5 hours of episodes on my computer so I didn’t need the internet and every day I would sit in the cold on a log and put my computer on a slightly bigger log and curl up in my warm coat for a day of Supernatural before heading inside to Pappou’s house at 4. Sometimes, I just waited until the afternoon when I knew my mom would be gone and I could go home where it was warm and I had wifi. Sometimes though I got wrapped up and I just stayed there.. all day.

Supernatural is, what I would consider, one of the last great american TV shows. Like... It’s right there with Grey’s Anatomy as the last TV shows that have an actual following where people watch it and it’s a thing that haven’t been corrupted by the streaming world. Television is so important to me, it’s my favorite medium of storytelling and it’s been lost. Streaming destroyed it. People say we’re living in a “golden age” because there’s “so much good TV” but there’s NOT! What we have is high production quality on a lot of mini-series and long-format movies that have been randomly split up into “episodes” but don’t make sense if you space them out in any way. The episodic serial format of television has been LOST and that’s heartbreaking...

But to me... this song... it’s about The Last Great American TV Show, The Last Great American Fandom, The Last Great American Dynasty over my life, my fandom, my relationship with tv, and my world view.

The line “How did a middle class divorcee do it?” also just... First of all there’s something so distinctly American about it... We all know Supernatural is itself a sort of lover letter to Americana... it’s the aesthetic of Nowhere USA which is part of what makes it so effective and heartbreaking. The line in the song is about how Rebekah was just... boring, average, a little sad. Someone unremarkable you feel a little pity for. That’s the Nowhere USA of the aesthetic of the show... THAT’S the heartbeat of “Americana.” It’s boring, average, unremarkable, a little sad, you kinda pity it, it shouldn’t be that deep, but it is. It’s when the unremarkable accomplishes the remarkable. And that’s the whole myth they fed us as kids, isn’t it? I could never explain the beauty of this line inside or outside the context of Supernatural to someone who isn’t US American so I’ll just stop trying... but it’s just kljasfkd

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that first stanza in the first verse... When I fell in love with Supernatural, I was boring unremarkable, a little sad... and the show was a wealth of possibilities... but also I was at a point where I was getting over the main fandom I’d had for the past year and a half (Buffy) and I had just fallen in love with Sherlock and I had nothing but time. I wasn’t bogged down with the anxiety of school, I got to devote my whole life and existence to this show. I was also a wealth of possibilities, and as we know the show was also boring, average, unremarkable, and a little sad. Both me and the show were Bill and both me and the show were Rebekah.

So when the wedding between me and the show was charming, if a little gauche it made sense cause there’s only so far new money goes. For me, this represents 2012-Mishapocalpyse: The Golden Age... Look... It’s no secret 2012 was my favorite year of all time... Tumblr was small and fun and hadn’t been corrupted by wanting or trying to be “cool” or “edgy” or “interesting.” I chose the mishapocalypse for the end of this era to me because that was the last time I felt like I could come on tumblr and really just LET GO into insanity. Almost instantly people were shit talking it as if it was not the single most fun 24 hours this website had ever had. In 2013, we saw the rise of YFIP and people trying so hard to “””prove””” they were “”””cool”””” unlike ~those~ tumblr people!!! It was pathetic. But in 2012, we just... had fun. And it was charming, if a little out there. But there really is only so far that the youthful innocence of an online community that’s new goes.

But I picked out a home on tumblr. And our parties were tasteful if a little loud. Tumblr in 2012/2013 was..... Fun. From mapcrunch to the mishapocalpyse. Some would argue about taste, but I’d say... “if a little loud.” I really just can’t separate the fun I had on tumblr back then from spn and I can’t separate spn from the fun I had back then.

But then of course, we all need to settle down some times because the fun doesn’t last forever. In this line, I hear myself in both Bill and Rebekah and I hear the show in both Bill and Rebekah. Both of our hearts gave out and the other way to blame.

So then the chorus... “who knows if she never showed up what could have been?” I CHANGED because of the show, I don’t know who the hell I’d BE without it! And likewise, I don’t think *I* personally changed the actual show, but the show WAS changed by each one of us. The show itself is folklore, changed and shaped in each retelling. There’s a creative freedom to the chorus that lives in that love.

So then there’s the second verse. After the rose colored glasses came off, Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever and I gave up on the greater spn fandom forever. I dropped the hellers and joined the tight knit Dean stans. This verse is about living in spite. It’s that wild American rebellion mixed with a little bit of sensual romanticism. In season 9, it was us against the world. And the reality is we were angrier than this verse gives and less free and fun... but looking back, it felt like A Time. I don’t know how to put it into words really but it was like... We found ways (and continue to find ways) to celebrate Dean when we weren’t supposed to. Fuck everyone else Dean is perfect.

And then in the second verse, we celebrate that rebellion. The change from “the maddest woman” to “the most shameless woman” in the chorus is so important here... In the first chorus, Rebekah and I were mad and crazy and wild. In the second chorus, we had no shame. We lived IN SPITE of the state of the world around us and fucked anyone who had anything to say about it.

In the first chorus, “who knows if she never showed up what could have been” paired with “maddest” has this creative potential. Like who knows who I would have been without spn and who knows what the show would have been without us, the fandom. And in the second chorus, that line changes to this destructive force. Like the show and I were both shameless to just exist, you know? because we would have been better without each other... but even as it acknowledges that, it’s still... sweet.

So then we have the time I left the fandom. Here we only hear bits and pieces of Rebekah’s life and Rebekah’s time in Holiday House. She was only seen “on occasion.” And on occasion, you could find me reblogging some Dean stan posts, getting into spats with Sam stans, posting about how the writers suck, calling out a heller. But 7 years is a long time and my fandom sat quietly in the history of my blog... And then it was picked up by me.

Rebekah, in the song, refers to my past. My previous relationship with the show. Taylor’s part refers to my current relationship with the show.

Who knows if I never showed up what could have been? If I never came back, what would my life look like? It would have been healthier, I’m sure. But then again - I needed this. And if the show hadn’t came back who would I be?

But there goes the loudest non-woman this fandom has ever seen. I will scream from the ROOFTOPS! and what I want to scream is EVERYTHING from the past but with my full grown adult context. I know now more than I knew then that I had a MARVELOUS TIME ~ruining everything~!!! And I get to CELEBRATE THAT! I get to let go and have fun. I get to sit and think of Nov 5 and how that night, I relived those parties that were tasteful if a little loud. And then every day since I relived flying in the Bitch Pack friends from the city. I get to CELBRATE!

I may not have been the fan the show wanted. I may have fucked shit up. I may have lived in spite of this show even when I lived because of it. But damn I had a marvelous FUCKING TIME Ruining. Everything. Everything this show built it wanted me to see and love and appreciate with these toxic fucking relationships and the destruction of Dean Winchester can KISS MY ASS cause I had a MARVELOUS time fucking that shit up. Everything this show wanted from me that I refused to give it. Every SPEC of growth and learning and fun and enjoyment I have had from this show.... was toxic. It ruined it. Because it was not the growth and learning and fun and enjoyment the show WANTED ME TO HAVE. But damn did I have fun.

The show and I are the last great American dynasty full of rebellion and spite and damn is it fun.

#tlgad #taylor analysis #putting this in that tag because i mean #folklermore spn finale #personal #i SPENT FOREVER on this #god i'm so glad i got this out #but i don't know if it will make sense to anyone but me #tlgad spn finale

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xlady-saya · 4 years

Text

someday there won’t be scowls [fic]

Relationships: aaron and neil, andrew/neil, aaron/katelyn

Summary: Neil finds that even with his mind's best efforts to hang onto the wounds of the past, his opinion of Aaron just isn't what it used to be. He can thank Andrew and Katelyn for a lot of it, but his own observations certainly help.

When he sees Aaron like this, the mix of worry and adoration on his face as he thinks of Katelyn, Neil can't help but feel too exposed himself.

It's a start.

Tags: neil and aaron bonding this time y’all, the usual fluff, references to canon violence

Read on ao3!

Contrary to popular belief, Aaron had not been drunk when he lost his phone.

No, no. He's just an idiot.

A couch cushion hits the coffee table as Neil rounds the corner, nearly knocking over a stray glass of water Nicky had furiously gulped down before disappearing to some party.

Neil watches it wobble. It's a needed pause, because he's not quite sure what to do.

He's not necessarily shocked to find Aaron here in their dorm. Now that he and Andrew aren't at each other's throats, the other twin is often around, either playing videogames or studying. It's the small concessions; the twins don't always talk, but the calm presence has done wonders for them. Especially in those first few months, the exposure did just as much as the therapy sessions.

It had been worth it. Even with having to feel Aaron eyeing Neil warily for months...Neil wouldn't take it back. It's because of those tense afternoons that they can all go on Katelyn's outings without a fight breaking out.

Besides that...Aaron does his best not to say anything too cutting, and it's good for Andrew. The slow acceptance, the effort, on both their parts.

At the thought, Neil smiles to himself. Andrew would never admit it, but having to war between his need to protect Neil while still looking out for his brother had been stressful with Aaron constantly antagonizing him.

These days, Andrew has been more relaxed, lighter. While Neil knows it's not all because of Aaron, their growing relationship is a huge part of it. Neil would never get in the way of that, so the sight of Aaron isn't unwelcome. Still, it's rare for him to be here without Andrew.

That's the bridge Neil has yet to cross, and doesn't really believe he has to. He and Aaron don't have to be friends for them to have Andrew's best interest at heart.

Aaron seems to agree.

He tends to avoid Neil when he can, or all the time really. Neil can't help but smirk at that; he’s certainly made it difficult for him, being friends with Katelyn and all.

It's not intentional, but it's too late to stop.

Vaguely, Neil remembers Matt planning a romantic night with Dan, and well...it explains why Aaron is here. He believes Nicky used the term 'sexiled,' which at the time was hilarious to Neil. When told by Kevin to 'shut up,' he simply employed the tactic later that night.

Served him right.

Another pillow flies to the floor, and Neil tracks it like a cat. He debates his next move.

Deep down, he already knows Aaron will do shit to help clean this up, and his frown deepens.

Normally, he'd turn himself back around into the bedroom, curl up with Andrew's hoodie and listen in on whatever exy podcast Kevin is listening to, but...

He probably can't leave Aaron like this, partly from curiosity, and partly because he's supposed to care.

He does care, he just sometimes wishes he didn't.

Neil dodges a flying plushie (a gift from Allison) swiftly, leaning against the door frame as he observes Aaron's frantic search for...whatever he's looking for. The twin looks two seconds from pulling his hair out when he finally spots Neil, and for all their progress, this part never seems to change.

Aaron's posture goes rigid the same time Neil stops breathing, their staredown freezing them both in place. It's habit after many, many fights. Neil waits for Aaron to say something insulting, to insinuate something about him and Andrew, and Neil's already mentally preparing for the retort. He knows the same is probably true for Aaron, except in his case he's prepared for lies and manipulation to fly out of Neil's mouth.

Or a fist to the face.

They expect the worst from each other, still. It's hard to break the cycle, especially with their history, and Neil stands stone-faced as Aaron squints at him.

Neil is stubborn, and he's not one to give up, another reason Aaron can't stand him. It just makes Neil embrace the trait more.

Knowing this, Aaron breaks first, sighing heavily at their own ridiculousness. They're supposed to be better, they shouldn't need Andrew to buffer, but Neil still wishes he was here.

Aaron grabs another pillow, seemingly just to have something to do with his hands, and scoffs.

Ah, so that's how this is gonna go.

"Make yourself useful and call my phone," Aaron orders, because he can't not have some of the old loathing in their conversation. Neil is fine with that; a nice Aaron would be creepy.

He's not ready to deal with it.

"I dunno where my phone is," Neil says with a shrug Aaron can't see, and it's the truth. Why Aaron expects anything more from him is his own fault.

Neil hides a laugh in his palm; it sounds like something Andrew would say, accompanied by the crunch of teeth on a lollipop.

"Typical," Aaron mutters, digging through the couch once again. He fusses with his hair, fingers itching from the stress. It's similar to when Andrew needs a cigarette, but Neil knows Aaron's poison.

Yet, there's no beer in sight, and Aaron doesn't seem to be moving to get one. It's odd enough to have Neil committed.

"What's the big deal?" He finally asks in the silence, walking forward to lean against the armrest and effectively blocking Aaron's search efforts. The blond's eye twitches from the harshness of the glare.

Good thing Neil is immune.

But again Aaron surprises him; the scowl doesn't last, the rare mask of defeat washing over Aaron's face. It's like the glare doesn't have a chance, can't possibly stay locked in when Aaron's thoughts are so opposite to the feeling of contempt. Before he even speaks her name, Neil has a feeling it's about her.

"Katelyn went out to a party," Aaron says, clearing his throat. Neil almost wants to laugh; Aaron is so terrible at keeping the affection from his tone. It's the opposite of Andrew, who can't keep it from his actions. "I wanna be available if she needs me, or just to know she's okay."

Some of the tension leaves Neil's shoulders. He understands in a few ways; while he and Andrew aren't the most frequent texters, they do let each other know their locations, and lately...

Well, lately Neil has noticed Andrew uses text to convey some of the things he can't in person. There's no grand confessions or love notes by any means. Andrew is still Andrew; there's just a new layer of vulnerability between the lines, inflections which Andrew's monotone would not allow. Neil's heart flutters, uncaged.

But in another sense, he's argued with Katelyn about this before.

They'd been having lunch one day without the twins, and Katelyn tearily confessed to asking Aaron not to drink some nights.

And well, that's what Neil deserved for seeing Katelyn as someone predictable, easy to read. He'd been sucker punched by that confession, but Katelyn's guilt drove her to ramble. She always framed it with an excuse of some kind she said; the vixens wanted to try a new club in a sketchy part of town, she was feeling paranoid because of exams, she'd had a fight with her parents, etc.

And Aaron, so devoted, never backed down from one of the promises. Neil had been impressed, watching Aaron dutifully drink sodas at Eden's instead of taking his shots from the endless trays.

Katelyn's worries about Aaron's addiction problems spurred the situation at hand, and Neil nearly made Katelyn sob from how against it he'd been. Not necessarily because it wasn't a concern, but due to the lack of trust.

No matter how Neil feels about Aaron, he knows Katelyn is his beacon. He'll do anything for her.

So, the least Katelyn can do, as someone with no gritty past or things to hide, is be honest with her boyfriend. Neil told her as such, not holding back. It wouldn't be an easy conversation, but one day she'd need to have it.

Aaron had yet to break her trust or lose control again, so Katelyn's betrayal of that sent Neil on a verbal onslaught.

Of course, Katelyn didn't take it personally. Something about Neil telling it like it is...

"It's why I tell you anything at all," she sniffled that day, her smile shaky.

Neil's never been known for being gentle, but perhaps he should've tried it. That, or Katelyn's still just working up to confronting this problem.

Tonight, she fell back on a bad habit. Hopefully, she comes back with something to show for it.

Aaron collapses into one of the beanbags on the floor, fed up with his search for the moment. The lines of tension and internal strife are all over his face, Neil nearly tells him to stop being so open about it.

But well, Neil blames himself for a lot too. It's easy to do, to imagine the worst case scenario, to already see something as his fault even when it hasn't happened yet.

He gets it. For once, he's annoyed he can't call Aaron's phone, but his could be anywhere. He winces to himself; he hopes Andrew doesn't find out.

"She's okay," Neil says, sinking slowly into the beanbag across from Aaron. From the way the twin raises his head, he's just as shocked as Neil is at the concession. Neil has always been spectacularly bad at the accepted forms of comfort. Maybe because a lot of the time they're a waste. But, he tries.

His foxes taught him hope, and he can't take the lessons for granted.

Besides, he's sure Katelyn is fine. And not his apparent definition of fine. More than fine, probably tipsy and gossiping about that one guy from chem class.

That's as far as his comforting skills go. Aaron waits for him to say something more, but Neil tucks his knees up to his chest, guarding himself.

Aaron frowns, but his eyes drift to the floor, rationalizing through it. The medical student in him kicks in, the one who is all statistics without room for paranoia, and he relaxes with a nod.

"Yeah," Aaron whispers into the awkward silence. "I hope she's having fun."

Jeez.

Okay, maybe Neil should've kept the conversation going. Katelyn and Andrew are safe topics, because they both have a lot of good things to say about them. It takes them off more dangerous paths, like the one they're currently on, sitting in silence and waiting for the other to snap.

'You don't have to be here,' the Andrew in his head critiques, unhelpfully. Mostly because it's the truth, he could abandon Aaron here and save himself from the weighted quiet, marred with tension and mistrust.

However, it frustrates Neil to no end, how he and Aaron seem incapable of having a conversation. Aaron is family, Andrew's family, blood which hasn't been poisoned by heavy hands and abuse. Neil should probably be able to carry a conversation with him.

He's sure Aaron's not thrilled about it, but the truth is, Neil plans to be around a long time. Andrew can say he doesn’t care as much as he wants, but ultimately, Neil knows he does.

Aaron regards him with a stony expression, perhaps feeling the same itch in his veins, the need to show he's improved as Andrew's brother.

Aaron clears his throat. "So, where's Andrew?"

Neil rolls his eyes. What the fuck was that?

But at least he's no longer in charge of making the first move.

"Eden's," Neil mumbles, pulling at the strings of his hoodie.

He doesn't expect Aaron's head to snap up, suddenly more awake as he straightens in his seat. There's a look on his face, Neil can't quite pin it down. Staring too long at Aaron freaks him out sometimes.

It's not often Aaron looks even a hair similar to Andrew in Neil's eyes, but the intensity shining there is hard to miss.

If he had to guess, he'd say it's suspicion.

"Eden's? Alone?" Aaron asks, and Neil doesn't know what to think. Aaron wasn't planning on drinking anyways, so who cares?

Under the scrutiny, Neil fidgets.

"Mhm," Neil hums, which only seems to draw Aaron's brows tighter together. "He said he had something to take care of."

At the wording, Neil bites back a smile. What sounds like secret-keeping to most people is more of a gift to Neil, something to wait for, something worth it.

"I need to talk to Roland," Andrew says, tangled up in the sheets with Neil. It had been a good day, Andrew pressed close and not crawling out of his skin to have space. It'll wear off eventually Neil knows, and soon Andrew will be forced to separate them slowly, pushing Neil to his side of the bed.

Still facing each other, still close.

Neil plays with the chain around Andrew's neck, tracing the metal cigarette at the end of it.

He feels the small font, can almost make out the words by touch alone...

"Neil," Andrew says again, firmer, and Neil's eyes shoot up. The fact Andrew's eyes are still so bright in the dark sends a shiver down Neil's spine.

Neil smiles sheepishly, but catches the lines of tension in Andrew's frame. He almost looks angry, but Neil's not sure who it's directed at. The storm locked in his expression swirls in a mixture of tension and consideration, trying to pick out any sign of discomfort in Neil.

Immediately, Neil's eyes narrow, heart cold. "What did he do?"

And well, he likes Roland, but if he's done anything to upset Andrew then...

Neil won't stop until he does something about it, and he tastes copper on his tongue before he can help himself.

But, the sight of a genuine threat in Neil's eyes actually softens Andrew's posture. Weird, how Andrew always finds the murder beneath Neil's calm facade to be a comfort. Andrew scoffs, fingers finally itching for a cigarette. Nerves. "Nothing. I just need to settle something."

And like that, Neil can see Andrew's not talking about a confrontation, and it settles Neil's own anxiety.

He's intrigued, but he knows Andrew well enough to understand it's not an invitation to pry. It's confirmed when Andrew turns back to him, a vow creasing his expression before the words leave his mouth. "Later."

'I'll tell you later.'

Neil sighs, content beyond measure. Yeah, okay.

And the words feel like a key, pressed hot into Neil's palm.

Aaron's voice brings him back to the present.

"Aren't you worried?" The twin says, incredulous. His eyebrows are in his hairline, like he can't fathom how big of an idiot Neil is. Something hot and ugly begins to simmer in Neil's blood. Andrew trusts Neil to believe in him, to let him know there's something itching at him and he needs time to get all the words together.

"Why?" He bites out; he doesn't like this, doesn't like the intrusion, the assumption he can sense coming. Neil knew enough that night with Andrew to guess that whatever Andrew needed from Roland was a vulnerable subject. And if he's being truthful, Andrew has been a bit off kilter all week. The anger he'd seen in Andrew's body had been at himself.

It means the blond is mulling something over, which he only ever does with the important things, because if he gets it wrong...

He doesn't want to get it wrong, not when it involves Neil.

It had probably taken a lot for Andrew to even admit to Neil he needed to go.

Neil doesn't take kindly to Aaron's old biases rearing their ugly heads. He thought Aaron stopped seeing Andrew as an uncaring asshole months ago. Guess he was wrong.

Aaron locks his knees together, searching for words which make him sound less awful. The search comes up short. "Well...he used to...hook up there, you know?"

Neil's knuckles crack from how hard he tightens them.

He can't kill Aaron. He knows that. Yes.

"I know--" He pauses to keep the sneer down. It's for nothing, since the viciousness leaks into his tone. Aaron's face falls in an instant, ashamed. Good. "I do trust Andrew you know? Don't you?"

Aaron opens his mouth quickly at the jab, but well, Neil's temper hasn't gotten any better. In true bitterness, he goes for what Aaron cares about, because he's never hesitated before. "Are you worried about Katelyn hooking up with someone at whatever bar she's at?"

Going for Katelyn is a cheap trick, but effective. It's always gotten a reaction in the past, normally violent and loud. He expects Aaron to jump out of his seat, to lunge for him. It's how he deserves to feel, an insinuation that his person, the one he'd do anything for, would go behind his back.

What he doesn't expect is for Aaron to freeze, for his jaw to fall open in quiet shock. The lack of answer is deafening. Neil's eyes widen, ever perceptive to the ugliness in people. It's so stupid, how he can't read so much about others, can't tread lightly with their sadness or embarrassment. It makes for awkward encounters, tactless comments. He has no idea how to read a mood, a room. Hell, he had no idea Andrew felt anything for him before Roland exposed the truth, and it had been going on for months.

But here, seeing the shame and insecurity in Aaron's features, it's so obvious it's laughable.

The silence envelops them again, heavy with a confession Aaron did not mean to give him.

Neil breathes in sharply, and some of his anger drains out of him. "Oh."

At that, Aaron's expression tightens, tone like a slap. "Shut up! I know it's ridiculous."

But not surprising. Aaron has only recently started to have good things in his life, not unlike Andrew. His possessiveness and wary attitude aren't exactly things he hides well. According to Andrew, Aaron's bouts of jealousy are pitiful.

Neil narrows his eyes right back.

"No," Neil says, before backtracking. "Well, yes, but it's mostly insulting."

It's a blow that lands; Aaron flinches from it. He has to know why.

Neil stands his ground; Katelyn's loyalty rivals Neil's own. He even got Andrew to acknowledge it, back when he was poking fun at how similar Bee thought he and Katelyn were. It's not fair for Aaron to be doubting her, when she's given him so much without hesitation. There was nothing but support from her during the trial, during the tumultuous months of therapy between him and Andrew.

Katelyn tries to bridge so many of the harsh gaps in Aaron's life, and trusts Aaron to do the same with her.

Neil may not be good with people, but he thinks he's spent enough time with Katelyn to know she'd never be unfaithful.

He almost can't fathom the extent of Aaron's hopelessness if he really believes she would be. If Katelyn knew...

Aaron sighs, burying his face in his hands. "No that's--It's not that I really think she would okay? It's just..." Aaron chews on his bottom lip, trying not to mess up the words. He can't be as careful, as deliberate, when it comes to these things. The fact he's even telling Neil this at all...Neil doesn't get it. He and Aaron aren't close, he doesn't even think he'd call him a friend. That's how much Katelyn means to him though, he can't have even Neil misunderstand those feelings. "I get scared sometimes and my brain thinks stupid shit, I know it's...I'm trying to be rational."

Rational.

It feels a lot like a crutch, like something Aaron is trying to convince himself of.

It feels a lot like 'I hate you' or 'there is no this.'

There's nothing rational about any of it.

Aaron will feel how he feels, the most important thing is how he expresses it. From how Katelyn smiles and swoons whenever Aaron looks at her, Neil knows he's done a good job of making sure Katelyn knows nothing about his deep doubts. Just like how Aaron knows nothing of hers when it comes to his drinking.

For her, the jealousy is just that, cute and harmless. It's not hiding dark doubts.

Neil leans back, contemplating. Comfort isn't his goal, at least he doesn't think so. Even still, the words tumble out. Kinda like a cheer move, but way less peppy and enjoyable. "Katelyn isn't the type to be with you unless she really likes you. While I don't get your appeal, and you're a grade A asshole, I never hear her stop telling me how happy you make her. Stop being pathetic."

He sounds like Andrew again he realizes.

'Stop letting it bother you or deal with it.'

From how Aaron glares, he probably thinks the same. Neil smirks.

"It's not so easy you know," Aaron grits out, fuming, and Neil worries he might leave the beanbag deformed from how hard he's twisting his hands in it. "I love her. Imagining it ending is hard, thinking of not having her around is unbearable. After everything...I just always think of the worst case scenario. Surely you have to get it."

Aaron doesn't manage to keep the sneer off his face for the last bit, and like that, Neil knows he doesn’t mean general paranoia. Aaron may acknowledge how important Neil is to Andrew now, but somedays it's easier to remember than others. Right then, when Neil is being particularly insufferable, it's a great feat.

Neil's never heard him actually acknowledge Neil and Andrew's bond before though, and Neil's not prepared for the assumption.

Or the derailment of his own thoughts.

Love.

It's not...it's not a word they use. Love is complicated, something that's been clouded for him due to heavy hands and harsh rules. His mother loved him, but to this day he finds himself wondering if it's the kind anyone should want.

His father hated him. Lola loved to hurt him. Neil never got the chance to explore the feeling until his Foxes, and he could probably say he loves them. He'd die for them, wouldn't hesitate to. But unlike his mother's own brand of sacrificial love, Neil would never think of hurting his friends. He likes spending time with them, getting to know them. There's warmth in his new family where his mother only knew frigidness.

Still, that's not the love Aaron is speaking about, and Neil tries not to grimace at the montage of cliché romantic comedies which fly through his head. He's not sure why he watches them, but it's hard to say no to Allison when she has him trapped in a chair for his monthly haircut.

The kind of love in those movies is not real to him.

Of course, Neil's not so stupid he hasn't wondered about this. After his feelings for Andrew became too hard to ignore, free of the weight of Neil's impending doom, Neil had to start thinking about how exactly to define them...

And yet, he still comes up short every time.

He's not quite sure what love is. He knows what it's supposed to be; devotion, protectiveness, comfort, affection.

Based on those qualifications, he and Andrew fit the bill, though people would probably debate the last one.

That's fine, fuck them.

Neil sees love reflected in Matt's eyes whenever he looks at Dan, the gooey kind, all open and adoring. He even sees it reflected in Kevin when he talks about Thea, except in his case it's expressed in pride.

Those things, Neil understands better. The actions, the tone. Those are the best ways to express anything. The words feel cheapened, lackluster.

He's not sure he will ever say them.

Aaron stares at him, expectantly, almost accusatory, as if he'll punch Neil for denying it. Funny, since Aaron would've loved nothing more than for Neil and Andrew to end things a few months ago. Now, Aaron simply doesn't want his brother manipulated.

As if Andrew would ever let anyone do that to him.

But in that realization, Neil finds his answer. He may never say it, but if someone were to ever ask, 'so, do you love Andrew?'

Neil would never even think of saying no.

And maybe that's all there is to it.

"Yeah, I do," Neil whispers, nodding and pushing the realization to the back of his head for now. He and Andrew haven't talked about it, Neil always assumed they'd never say it, he doesn't exactly need to. But...maybe...maybe it would be nice. Maybe one day Andrew would find it nice.

Aaron's shoulders sag in a mixture of relief and shame over his own feelings, no doubt seeing Katelyn's smile in his mind. Neil wonders what Aaron's go to image is, if it's Katelyn cheering him on at a game, or a much more private, intimate moment.

Neil sees Andrew's calm facade, lips around a cigarette, with a whole universe locked in his eyes. His expression is usually the same, squinting, like he's torn between 'stop staring' or 'never stop.'

Neil shivers.

Yes, if he didn't have Andrew...he's not sure what he would do. Andrew always told him he wasn't Neil's answer, but at this point they're so entangled Neil can't imagine a future without him.

Would he survive and make a good life for himself without Andrew? Most likely, but he really doesn't want to.

For Aaron it's the same, and Neil hates having to admit he's wrong. Looking at Aaron now, a war on his face and fingers itching for his phone, Neil gets it. Aaron has come just as far as the rest of them. He's much more alive now, in no small part thanks to Katelyn. Neil thinks he gets the pessimism, because he sees it in Andrew so often. Hell, his own paranoia has him in the same state somedays.

Aaron's feelings are the same as Andrew's, he said it himself. The assumption everything can fall apart at a moment’s notice is always looming in his mind, and he's never not expecting a catastrophe. The difference for the twins is now, despite that mindset, they fight against the urge to give up.

It's admirable, it's devotion, things he'd never thought he'd say about Aaron.

But here he is; it sucks to eat his words, even in his head. Finding out new things about Aaron is not something Neil planned to do when he walked out here, but he's not disappointed.

It's a start.

"I may not like you," Neil begins, as if to smother the unplanned warmth in his chest. He grimaces instead.

Aaron's head snaps up sharply, like lightning. "Like-fucking-wise--"

"But Katelyn does," Neil stresses, and enjoys watching Aaron's glare relax. It's impossible for him to be upset when she's mentioned, not even when he's angry with her, not really. "If you don't trust that by now you're a lost cause."

It's miles away from touching, from soothing, but it must work for Aaron well enough. It's Neil's own way of saying Aaron doesn't have to expect the worst with Katelyn, because he already has proof she'll weather through anything with him.

In the back of his mind Neil remembers grabbing Andrew's jacket sleeve before he could walk out the door one day, one very bad day. He remembers the words which left his own mouth: ‘don't give up on me.’

Eventually, Aaron settles back into the beanbag slowly, releasing it from his death grip. He tries to scoff, but he sounds too tired for it to be effective. "You're sure comforting for someone who doesn't like me."

And like that, it feels lighter in the room, because Aaron being annoying is normal.

Smartass.

Neil almost smirks; he's one to talk, Andrew would say.

"I don't like you, but I don't want to see you hurt." Neil shrugs. It's the truth; he has to keep Aaron from sinking to rock bottom, so Andrew doesn't worry. Neil knows Aaron still might not believe it, but Andrew will do most anything for him, and by extension..."I'll still watch your back."

Aaron quirks a brow, because he's an asshole like that. "That doesn't sound like dislike."

Neil's not quite ready to think about whether or not the statement is true, in the long run it doesn't matter. The outcome is the same.

"You're family," Neil states, and it holds all the explanation needed.

He's never hesitated to protect his family with his life, with all their awful baggage and selfishness. They stick together.

Aaron's eyes widen as he leans back into the chair, letting the words sink in. Neil tries not to show his own reluctance on his face, but he has to admit this is another way Aaron has gotten better.

He used to not acknowledge the upperclassman's existence outside of practice, but the fight has pretty much left him.

Essentially, even he has to admit he won't be rid of any of them any time soon.

"Yeah," Aaron breathes, breaking the awkward pause. He twiddles his fingers, fidgeting in a way which makes him seem so much younger, so much more vulnerable. His face settles on a glare eventually; he's not ready to look at Neil any other way. "Thanks for...watching out for Katelyn too."

It sounds like Aaron has a mouth full of nails when he says it, but it doesn't lessen the impact.

Okay, yeah. Maybe he's more progressed than Neil thought.

This is the man who wanted to beat him for even approaching Katelyn the first time.

Neil wants to open his mouth and refute it; he didn't do anything Katelyn hadn't already thought of in the past. When he gives her ideas, she sees them through. She's shown time and time again she can make even someone as hardheaded as Aaron bend, she's never needed any help from Neil and honestly, he's never given it unless he was pushed.

Before he can open his mouth, Aaron pins him to his chair with a steely gaze, voice quiet. "And...for Andrew too."

Neil feels his jaw click from how hard he tenses; Aaron is daring him now, daring him to argue. Bastard. He knows Neil's weakness.

And Neil hears the unspoken statement, sees it in Aaron's eyes, so loud and consuming: 'Even from me.'

Even from you.

Of course, Neil thinks. He'd kill for Andrew.

There's no way for him to deny it; Aaron has seen glimpses of it in Neil's eyes, the urge to throttle, to destroy anything in Andrew's way.

Out of respect for that fact, Neil keeps his mouth shut about Katelyn.

Fine.

It's so stupid, that Aaron has to corner Neil in order for him to accept even a piss poor attempt at kindness. It makes Neil grin, sharp and rueful.

It's the closest thing to an apology Neil is going to get from Aaron, his way of saying he was wrong to expect the worst from Andrew, to treat him like some unfeeling monster. Neil will take it for now, but if Aaron shows how little he believes in Andrew like that again...

Neil can't be held responsible for what happens.

Aaron throws up his hands, as if reading Neil's mind. "But no offense, I can't imagine you two having the 'we're exclusive' conversation."

Neil snorts, full on smirking now. "In Andrew's words 'you take up too much of my time for me to think about anyone else,' and that was that."

It was in fact not.

In reality the real conversation was much rawer, strung painfully along three days of trembling touches and long looks. The heaviness in Neil's chest had been unfamiliar, hollow and weighted all at once. He wondered, briefly, if it was what people felt like when they cried.

He hadn't cried in so long he wasn't sure. Sobs ripped through his chest with no outlet, no tears, no snot.

Like thunder, his heart pounding in his ears and pain beneath his skin.

Shockingly, it had been Andrew to put an end to the tension, to crowd him harshly against a wall and force them to talk about things Andrew hated talking about.

"I'm not supposed to be this for anyone, I wasn't supposed to live..."

"But you did. You are."

It's not a memory Neil plans on reliving here with Aaron; he won't be able to control his expression, his breathing.

He digs his fingers into the beanbag this time, and as hard as he tries, he can't get rid of his smile completely.

The night ended with Andrew holding him for the first time while they slept, and oh did they sleep. Almost twelve hours, the emotions taking a toll.

So yeah...

It's him and Andrew, until the end.

He knows Aaron must see through the lie too, at least a little, but he doesn't comment.

"What a bastard," he says instead, giving Neil a way out. It's not like he wants to hear Neil gush about Andrew either.

Not that he would.

Probably.

"You have that in common," Neil replies.

Aaron shrugs, not put off in the slightest. They didn't get to where they are now by being nice people. "Well either way I'm...that’s good or whatever. You know if he cheated on you I'd have to kick his ass."

Neil barks a laugh, so loud and out of character he claps a hand over his mouth to stop it. The idea of Aaron getting so much as a hit in is hilarious.

He can't even imagine it.

Then, Neil really processes his words. He's not sure what look is on his face, but it's disbelieving enough to ruffle Aaron into raising his voice.

"What?" Aaron shouts, and seeing him flush is so unusual without Katelyn around Neil almost can't comprehend it. "I don't care for you either or get what he sees in you, but I didn't go through all the trouble of breaking our deal and going to therapy to let him throw away something that's actually good for him."

Neil lets the annoyance roll off his shoulders; he could just as easily hurt Andrew, but people never assume it's him. Not like he would, but he wishes people would stop placing the blame prematurely. Aside from that...

Aaron admitted Neil is good for Andrew. Aloud. To Neil.

The smirk which grows on Neil's face is absolutely shit eating. "Sounds to me like you like me."

And, either from exhaustion or the inability to fight it any longer, Aaron lets out a heavy sigh. "Maybe one day, Josten."

"Like-fucking-wise," Neil parrots, and for once, the silence is almost comfortable. An itch under Neil's skin tells him it might be the first of more to come.

But, everything ends.

Neil's phone dings on the kitchen counter, and Aaron's head flies to it before he sees it's not his own. Neil, on the other hand--"Oh! There it is!"

He knew he left it somewhere.

Aaron's scowl is something Neil dutifully ignores as he hops up to swipe his phone. It's got twenty percent. That's an improvement, if you ask him. "I swear to fuck, Josten--"

Neil waves him off, swiping his lockscreen (it's a blurred picture of Andrew, because he refused to let Neil take one). He frowns when he sees Andrew's name in his new messages. It's not that they don't text, but it's still new for them to do it without reason.

It's early in the night, for Andrew anyways, and for a moment Neil worries something happened.

A: heading back

Relief floods his chest, mixed with what Andrew would no doubt find an annoying dose of curiosity. Neil can feel Aaron's eyes on him, like he's a zoo animal. He's used to it; the Foxes are improving, but his relationship with Andrew is a mystery in their eyes.

They're not exactly subtle.

N: that was fast. how was Roland?

He doesn't mean to sound suspicious, and it's not for the reasons Aaron might think. He's not sure why Andrew needed to go to Eden's, but if it ended in some kind of fight...

There's a pause, which he notes with some tension in his stomach. Andrew texts fast usually.

A: ok. didn't get to spend much time there so we didn't talk

Neil's brow furrows, but Andrew knows him well, and his explanation comes quickly after.

A: katelyn was there, I'm bringing her back

A: idiot rolled her ankle

Neil's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. And Andrew says he's the interesting one. Neil can't help but be amused at the thought of Andrew being trapped in a car with the bubbly girl. Katelyn isn't exactly scared of Andrew anymore, but they don't talk directly. It really is a night of developments. Neil bites his lip to keep his grin at bay, feeling Aaron's eyes on him.

Oh, Neil is going to enjoy this.

He's not worried about Katelyn, just a bit surprised Andrew would bother with her. But, like with most things Andrew does, Neil accepts the facts and doesn't dwell on much else. If Andrew wants to explain he will.

It's not like Andrew will hurt Katelyn unless she deserves it.

N: okay. I'll let aaron know

He tacks on the purple devil emoji, the one Andrew showed him in a rare moment of instruction, and hopes his intent is received.

A: I should've never taught you what those mean

N: you're amused I can tell

A: maybe

Neil smiles then, a little less evil. The warmth which comes with Andrew pools in his gut and he shivers, unable to help it. The ghost of Andrew's fingers graze his cheek; if he were here he'd push Neil's face for smiling that way.

He never thought a 'maybe' could mean so much, but nowadays it's as good as a 'you're right' to Neil's ears.

Neil thinks that's the end of it when another message comes in.

A: Neil

He pauses, waits. Nothing. It feels like the clench of Andrew's jaw, the consideration before he speaks. Never impulsive, because he doesn't believe in regret.

N: yes?

The little speech bubble pops up to show Andrew is typing, and it starts and stops over and over. The tapping of fingers on a whiskey glass, Neil throwing off the rhythm of Andrew's routine.

It's something Andrew welcomes now, most of the time.

A: you'd probably like the stupid song they played in the club

An incomplete answer.

Neil's smile is uncontrollable at that point, it splits his face in a better way than hot coils, lifting the scarred skin and giving him wrinkles. Andrew isn't always able to say what he's thinking, what he feels, and this is one of those times. They're frequent, proof of progression which is always a tug of war. A few steps forward, some back. But every time it happens now, Andrew offers him a concession, licking wounds which aren't there just because.

Just in case.

But Neil's never hurt, Andrew wouldn't hurt him. The effort means more to him than he can possibly say, because he never asked Andrew for it, doesn't need it. Andrew is giving it, trying anyways.

Even when he doesn't get to the end of the road, Neil can see the destination.

He might not get to hear whatever Andrew really tried to say, not anytime soon, but he knows the truth in what Andrew did say: 'I'm thinking of you.'

Neil releases a shuddering breath.

N: I want to listen later

N: with you

N: drive safe

He won't.

A: maybe

'Okay.'

Neil pockets his phone as it hits below ten percent, and when he hears Aaron cough awkwardly, he remembers the rest of his objective.

Keeping his face blank is a talent he can only thank his boyfriend for.

"Andrew's with Katelyn," he says, as innocently as possible, moving to brew some hot chocolate for when the blond returns. He gets as far as pouring the powder when Aaron looks up, eyeing him as if he's trying to parse through his Spanish homework (without Neil's help).

"Oh, okay," he says, unsure. Neil raises his head as he stirs, watching Aaron blink once, twice.

He clinks his spoon against the rim of the pan, and hears a scream.

"WHAT."

Neil counts the night as a win on account of Aaron jamming his hip against the dorm railing in his haste to haul ass down to the parking lot.

The roar of the Maserati's engine is music to Neil's ears. He and Andrew spend time apart often, but he simply prefers to have him home.

He ignores the look he gets from Andrew as his eyes flit between Neil and Aaron, a silent question. Neil tries not to groan; he knows he'll have to admit it eventually, but his new Aaron revelations aren't things he wants to return to so soon.

When Aaron nods at Andrew, the hint of a smile present and Katelyn against his shoulder, Neil is the only one who knows it for the apology it is. Andrew didn't let him down, of course he wouldn't.

As Aaron turns towards the dorms with Katelyn, fussing and kissing her cheek, Neil doesn't miss the brief glance he sends his way. 'Sorry for doubting.'

And it's not enough for Neil, but it's a start.

With Aaron gone, Neil takes a bold step in Andrew's direction. The magnetic pull is too much, and he raises his brow at the twitch in Andrew's face. People who believe Neil can't flirt have never seen him get under Andrew's skin; it's shockingly easy for him.

Andrew, ever one for reciprocation, takes his own step forward. Neil sees the amused glint shine through the dark, barely there but so apparent to him.

Despite that, Neil doesn't close the gap. He sees the lines of tension wrapped over Andrew's shoulders, not put there by him. They've been there since he got out of the car with Katelyn; something had put him on edge, making him extra cautious, over thinking.

But Neil is there to smooth those points of tension.

Maybe Andrew and Katelyn did get to talking, it sure would be fitting after the night Neil had.

He walks over slowly, letting Andrew set the boundaries if he needs to. He doesn't budge.

"Can I help?" Neil whispers, and expects Andrew to roll his eyes.

'Don't be dramatic,' or 'I don't need help’ seems impending.

Instead, Andrew sighs, tugging at the chain around his neck.

"You tend to," he says, like it's an annoyance. "You do."

Neil grins, wrapping one hand in Andrew's jacket sleeve. He can tell Andrew is still trying to say something, but he's not ready. Neil doesn't need him to be. Though, with the urgency Andrew took with him to Eden's, Neil figures he'll find out soon.

In the meantime, Neil bats Andrew's hand away to pull out his necklace. The little cigarette had made him crack up when he saw it; he didn't think Andrew would actually take to wearing it, but then he'd seen ‘pipe dream’ engraved on it…

Neil hardly sees him remove it.

"You need one too," Andrew mumbles. "I'm tired of being the only one looking like an idiot."

"Get me one then," Neil shoots back, not bothering to point out how Andrew doesn't give a shit what people think of him. It's a joke, but sometimes flustering Neil is more important to Andrew than keeping his pride intact.

"I'm looking still," he says, yanking the chain away from Neil's fingers and stuffing it below his shirt. The movement is irritated, his body language is not.

And oh, that smile on Neil's face must be back, because Andrew snaps at him not a moment later. "Stop it."

"You first," Neil retorts, stupidly, definitely not his best work. But he can't focus with Andrew reaching out for him, pulling at his forearms until Neil's wrists are settling gently on his shoulders. The few inches he has on Andrew never fails to make him laugh, but Andrew's stare is so intense at the moment, the sounds dies on Neil's lips.

The lips Andrew keeps looking at.

Neil leans in, and as his lips graze Andrew's, he smirks. "Did you enjoy your girl talk?"

The blond tenses up in an instant, like hell has frozen over. The stare he levels at Neil is about as unamused as it gets. "You have never heard of a mood in your life."

Andrew makes a show of shoving Neil away while he laughs, but Neil latches on, because he's a shit like that and Andrew loves it. "No, I just know getting you back into the mood is easy," he whispers in Andrew's ear, his thumb sliding down his neck. He delights in the shiver he gets in return.

"Your arrogance is putting you on thin ice," Andrew grits out.

"Do something about it."

When Andrew kisses him, his hands hold Neil's face, and it's his favorite. Neil is pretty sure Andrew knows it, but he'd never point it out, for fear Andrew would stop in retaliation.

Neil is taller, but somehow he ends up surging up to the tips of his toes, the kiss electrifying for something so chaste, a kiss Andrew doesn't even deepen. They're in public, he won't do it, but it leaves Neil yearning anyways.

"It wasn't revolting," Andrew admits when he pulls away, his thumbs rubbing firmly into Neil's face scars.

For a moment, Neil's mind is so hazy he doesn't get it, and he blinks until Andrew catches on.

"The cheer--Katelyn."

Oh. Neil lets his eyes widen; it's not that he sees Andrew as an unfeeling monster, he would never. But...Katelyn is not his type of person. It almost makes Neil laugh, imagining Katelyn with her neverending stream of talking points, attempting to fill the silence of Andrew's Maserati.

Again, it's a start.

Maybe he can trade his conversation with Aaron for Andrew's with Katelyn.

"I'm proud of you," Neil says with a grin, and doesn't elaborate that he means he's proud Andrew is fixing things with Aaron in more ways than therapy. One gap at a time, he makes the necessary choices to sew up the majority of the wound. He'll always be Andrew, holding his brother and Katelyn at a distance, not compromising his own self and beliefs.

It'll never fit together quite right, far from perfect, but they're making their own way.

"For what?" Andrew scowls at him, moving his hands from under Neil's eyes to tug at his mouth. Neil fights him, but the grin can't hold up against the roughness.

Neil lets it go with a wink, which only makes Andrew frown more as Neil turns around. Katelyn moves slow, and he can see Aaron making her even slower by worrying too much. They're barely at the door. Neil sighs, shaking his head. "Ready to go up?"

They may not have privacy, but they'll have more than this...

"No," Andrew says, grabbing the sleeve of Neil's hoodie.

Neil reaches up to tap at Andrew's pulse, patient but not willing to be completely passive in this case. He's missed Andrew all day; he hopes his touch is enough to communicate to Andrew how he doesn't have to try so hard right then.

Neil doesn't need him to keep trying to force out words he's not ready to say; Andrew already had a lot taken out of him after tonight.

Neil too, honestly.

Andrew grunts, turning back to the car. It's the only answer Neil needs, and he gratefully hops into the passenger seat. Neil will follow Andrew wherever he decides to take him, for however long Andrew needs to clear his head.

It's nice, to run without running away.

Andrew's hand grazes his before clutching the gear shift, and they veer out of the parking lot with zero caution.

This is it, he thinks. Andrew's reckless driving after midnight, and a hand in his, with lots of time left to say what needs to be said.

This is it. Four truths: sunrise, Abram, death, us.

Briefly, as he remembers Aaron's confessions, he wonders, hopes even, that the twin feels the same about his life. No, he knows Aaron feels the same way about Katelyn.

That's not even a question.

Neil smiles as he rolls down the window, ignoring Andrew's comment about how he's like a dog, and jots down another line on the list of things to admire about Aaron.

Begrudgingly, of course.

#all for the game #neil josten #andreil #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #katelyn minyard #bc they're married in my heart already

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beevean · 3 years

Note

On the American side of the COVID shit show more and more people are getting fed up, including me. We now have three vaccines available, which are proving to be effective against transmission according to Isreal, and yet flip-flopper Anthony Fauci(who praised Andrew "Granny Killer" Cuomo) and the CDC moved the goalpost AGAIN saying you still can't go back to normal even when you're fully vaccinated. And they wonder why people are saying this has become more about control than the virus.

Since Biden has become President, I’m not hearing any more bad news from the US regarding COVID, which can mean different things depending on your political orientation :P

Anyway, I only know that Texas has pretty much said “screw it, welcome back to normal life, you guys do whatever you want” (which is already what Texans are doing?), and that Biden was like “the 4th of July will be the Day of Independence from COVID”, which, god I wish we had that kind of optimism here we don’t even know if they’ll start vaccinating the low-risk population by this year :V

Actually I haven’t heard Fauci’s name in quite some time (again, telling). To be honest, I’m not surprised he took the overly cautious route, he seems like that type of guy. I guess that he said that we must wait that everyone gets fully vaccinated? But yeah, we are all getting tired, that’s undeniable. If it’s not because of lockdowns it’s because of failing business, and if it’s not because of failing business it’s because of the flip-flopping of restrictions.

And the thing is that this creates a cycle: people are tired and feel like it’s all pointless -> they get out and have fun as soon as they can -> the government is like “tf are you doing, stay inside” and locks down people again -> people are tired and protest -> the government is like “okay guys we hear you, we’ll open up a bit as a treat” -> they get out and have fun as soon as they can -> the government is like “tf are you doing, stay inside” and locks down people again -> rinse and repeat.

#covid #also this is extremely personal but #last year's easter was miserable for me and my mom #this year will be even more miserable #my grandma's partner died last month and now she's all alone #we don't know if we will be able to visit her #and of course you have to ask 'should we?'#my province is doing... okay compared to others #but still my mother was this close to getting infected by her colleagues #i want to scream #moomingitz

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ohwaitisuck · 4 years

Text

okay so ive had this thing in my head for way too long now

andrew

after andrew graduates he plays with a team for half a year and then quits and lives with wymack until neil graduates

andrew does not continue exy after palmetto, instead he moves hotel to hotel with neil to whichever place he has a game on

he won’t admit it but he doesn’t like to be away from the only person who ever paid attention to him and didn’t fuck him over intentionally or unknowingly

neil can’t help but worry that maybe kevin’s promise was not enough

it’s not kevin’s fault but neil won’t make andrew do anything he doesn’t want to

so they rent an apartment once the last game of neil’s team is over

its 2 am and andrew can’t sleep and its one of those days where humans are too much too handle

he sits on the balcony gazing up at the stars trying so hard not to imagine the feel of hands on him and weight pushing him down and pain and hurt and blood

something hairy brushes his leg

on the outside he’s bored and unsurprised, on the inside he leaps out of his fucking skin

sir gazes up at him from below and runs away into the kitchen now that he’s had andrew’s attention and andrew follows him inside

he jumps up on the counter and begins aggressively pawing at his box of cat food

andrew’s not sure if cats are supposed to be fed during the night but he doesn’t care

if sir falls sick then they have money for the vet

his stomach grumbles as he watches sir munching down food

he wants ice cream

he checks the fridge. they ran out of it last week

and no matter how much he loves ice cream he doesn’t want to go out and talk to people

so he decides to make some himself, it’s not like he can sleep anyway

2 lines of reading the recipe and he realizes that it takes an entire day to make one tub of ice cream

he’s hungry and he wants something sweet

so he stays up for the rest of the night and makes donuts

an hour later when neil walks into the kitchen and looks at him like he does sometimes it makes andrew think he felt something right there

after neil leaves for practice andrew goes out and buys a shit ton of groceries

because he wants to feel again

most nights after that neil eats the most divine of foods he’s ever had

neil

it’s 10 am and neils birthday when the foxes come out of hiding from various parts of the cafe that neil and andrew are in

they’re loud and energetic and neils swayed because he’s never had anyone acknowledge him being born so much

he’s never had anyone except andrew gift him anything either

but that’s changed now because in front of him is a pile of stuff that he doesn’t know what to do with

nicky’s gifted neil the latest smartphone that came out this month

it is elegant and fancy, neither of which suits neil

“i’m the fanciest and most elegant person you’ll ever know and i suit you just fine” andrew tells him that night

and so the smartphone stays in his exy bag and goes everywhere with him though neil doesn’t know what to do with it

nicky is exasperatingly astonished when he finds out this bit of information

he takes the phone and gives it back after installing a bunch of social media apps

he explains how to use them and leaves neil open-mouthed and wondering why people would share their whereabouts to people they don’t know

he goes home and takes a look at them

he keeps the yellow picture sending one and deletes the rest

after an hour his new smartphone pings

nicky’s sent him a friend request

a week later neil has six friends on snapchat

his first snap to everyone is of sir bullying king into getting out of neil’s lap

his second is of the mouth watering lasagna that andrew made

everyones reaction to andrew cooking makes neil gooey inside

neil is just happy that andrew does something

and he’s ecstatic when andrew tells him that he wants to enroll in an architecture college

neil and andrew

an year later its 4 am on weeknight and both of them are awake

andrew is zeroed in on the ten different sheets in front of him

neil is eating rings from his fingers and sending pictures of andrew to the foxes

#and the cats are waltzing around the house because no one pays them attention anymore #this has zero realism but do i care?#i might turn this into a fanfic someday #i love myself some angst less andriel #just kidding nothing gets me going more than emo kids being tortured #andriel #andrew minyard #neil josten #the foxhole court #aftg

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fics-not-tragedies · 4 years

Text

One Day in December: Chapter 4 🎇

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten - epilogue

Words: 3696; Warnings: none, unless you want a warning for drinking then you have it; Summary: In another year Andrew tries to fix what he screwed up last year, but even though Bianca came through alone - she really isn’t.

Hozier tag list:

@letoursilencebreaktonight; @angelpeachamber; @sgt-morgan; @julessbrown;

December 2013

Andrew didn’t know what to do with himself this year. It was his first Christmas alone in over two years. He split with his girlfriend only few months prior… and since he was on the receiving end of the breakup, the wound was still fresh. He didn’t miss her really… well, he did… but it was more like he missed being with someone.

The thing was… the morning after he cried himself to sleep like a stupid baby… he woke up from a dream about Bianca. It’d been nearly a year again already, and suddenly, he didn’t feel as horrible as he had. Her face and the way she looked just before they were about to kiss under that godforsaken mistletoe, was the singular image that carried him through until two weeks before Christmas when he headed home to Wicklow. He was going to stay with his parents for awhile, hide away and let his mum take care of him. It was the main perk of being the only child, and also a mama’s boy.

For a week, he migrated from location to location in his parents’ house; his old bedroom… the couch in the sitting room… the kitchen table where his mum made him all his favorite meals… It was perfect. He did nothing but watch tv, eat biscuits, and think about her.

Maybe if he had some way to contact her, he would, but he still never found out who she was related to at the party. Then again, even if he did have her number, he was too chicken to call her; especially after how she left last year.

Instead of being an adult, he just made himself sick over her for a week, thinking about all the conversations they could possibly have this year… what he’d say… how he’d act… He was giving himself anxiety over it, and he had no idea if she’d even show up in the first place.

The day of the party had come, and he was going with Ryan and Cormac and even Rory. They’d all come home to see their families, and Andrew finally had someone to hang out with. They met up beforehand, just down the street, passing a flask between the four of them. It was silly and dumb, but it made Andrew feel loads better. The best part was, everyone made a pact to come alone so Andrew wouldn’t feel left out.

“How are you feeling Andy? Look like you’ve been sleeping well. Getting fed. Raine makes you all your favorite meals?” Alex asked, taking a swig from the flask and thrusting it in his direction.

Andrew chuckled, “Yeah… made my favorite biscuits, too. I’m a spoiled little boy” he coughed when the alcohol burned his throat and he handed it off to Rory, “I’m glad you guys are here. Getting lonely, actually.”

“Well… no one told you to run away to your mum, did they?” Cormac grinned, nearly finishing off the booze.

“He’s got a point” Alex muttered through the collar and scarf he’d pulled up tight around his ears, “Are we fucking done yet? I’m freezing out here.”

“Right…” Rory finished the flask and tossed it back into the car and the four of them trudged through the muddy snow to the house.

The party was already in full swing; seemingly much more loud and rowdy then it had been in years past. They shuffled through the front door single file, shaking off the cold as they waved and nodded to friends they hadn’t seen in ages. It was a good welcoming… everyone happy to see their hometown heroes. And it was rare that they were all together for a change in the same place.

They barely removed their coats when someone passed them a shot and Andrew wondered what kind of night this was going to turn into. He’d thrown his coat over his arm until he could make it to the backroom, knocking back the shot with the guys before going off in search of a beer to wash it down. He entered the kitchen to find the fridge wide open, someone bent in front of it. He stood back a little, not wanting to be rude and push through.

“What kind did you want?” The voice called to a girl standing just behind her.

Andrew raised his eyebrows, the girl’s voice behind the fridge sounding awfully familiar. She popped up a second later, and Andrew gasped.

Bianca.

She was here.

She hadn’t seen him yet, her back to him still. He momentarily contemplated running out until he was better prepared to talk to her, but it was too late. She was already peering back at him with those pretty hazel eyes of hers. She looked… so good. Better than his memory served him.

“Thought you weren’t coming this year?” Andrew blurted suddenly, and he felt the blush creep up his neck to his cheeks.

Of all the fucking things you planned on saying…

“Nice to see you, too” Bianca grinned, leaning against the fridge, “Can I get you something while I’m in here?”

“Em… yeah… just… a beer… whatever’s…in there…” Andrew stammered, brushing his hair back feeling like a complete fool. Two months worth of anguish over this girl, and this is how he behaves.

Bianca pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows before ducking back into the fridge and grabbing one for each of them. She opened both their bottles and handed one to Andrew.

“Cheers, love” he murmured and she grinned before taking a sip.

Bianca studied him over the top of the glass, how different he looked this year as opposed to last. His hair was longer, fluffier, and the front strands framed his face so adorably. He wore a maroon sweater, tight-fitting with the sleeves pushed up, and jeans so worn in she felt like reaching out to touch how soft they were.

“How you’ve been?” She finally asked, once they’d stared at each other long enough before the silence became uncomfortable.

“Alright… you?” He said softly, unable to take his eyes off her. Here she was. Live and in the flesh. Standing across from him in the same kitchen they’d stood in at least once every year. Her hair was done up in a purposely undone bun on top of her head, her bangs grown-out and swept to the sides of her face. Little wisps hung down like flyways… and his fingers twitched from wanting to tuck it back over her ear, to let his fingers linger down her neck…

“Better than last year” she grinned, her bright smile stretching across her face.

“Last year…” he murmured, taking another sip of his beer, “That year was a bit shit, wasn’t it?”

Her eyes widened and she smiled, “Yes. Yes it was. But this year seems to be shaping up to be better already.”

It was Andrew’s turn to smile now, and he mirrored hers, “Yes. Yes it is.”

They were right.

They were able to talk for once, hanging around in the same little clique. All the boys were together, and they were all in good spirits, telling jokes and stories. Bianca listened with wide eyes, fully enthralled in every tale. They made her laugh and being with Andrew made her feel as if perhaps last year had never even happened.

He sat perched on the arm of the couch, pushing his sleeves up as they kept slipping, telling a story quite animatedly with his hands flying about for emphasis. Bianca was staring, she knew it, and when he caught her eye, she bit her lip and bowed her head; he’d caught her. He smiled almost bashfully and stuttered a second as he lost his train of thought. He scratched his head, ruffling his hair until the thought came back around and he picked up where he left off.

He was beautiful she decided.

The Christmas tree was just behind him, back-lighting his profile and she squinted a little, making the lights behind him look blurry in her vision. It was like a rainbow glow hummed around him and she secretly wished she could sneak her phone out and snap a picture of him; to remember him just as he was right now. But it wasn’t worth it.

The camera could never capture how perfect he looked.

The karaoke was back.

When the regular party music was turned down, everyone groaned, but it quickly became as popular as it had been last year. Every drunk partygoer took a turn, and everyone laughed egging them on. Even Alex had a go with Rory singing backup to some silly Christmas song.

Bianca and Andrew were tucked away in the corner, talking quietly, getting warm from the outdoors. She’d followed him outside earlier for a smoke, getting lost in the way he looked when he puffed on his cigarettes… the way the little clouds curled up around his head, and the way he held it between his fingers. She was mesmerized all night by him and who he’d become. She found herself getting lost in his gentle muddy eyes, admiring the long lashes and the way they brushed against his cheeks.

Andrew had caught her staring again, for the hundredth time that night. It made his stomach twist in knots, and he felt like he could spend the whole night just hanging out beside her. She was wearing a cute little knit dress, always a dress, and stockings with tiny hearts. His own heart ached at how adorable she was. He knew he should make his move, but… he honestly didn’t know the move to make. He didn’t want to screw this year up as bad as the last. So he chose to do nothing. He would let the night play out and see what happened.

The party was dying; many of the guests had gone home or were idling about talking in clusters throughout the house; just hanging on to the evening as long as they could. Andrew had imbibed just enough beers to make him a bit bold and a lot romantic. He was sitting beside Bianca, their legs touching completely, watching some horrible rendition of ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ by someone very drunk who assumed they sounded much better than they did. They giggled, trying not to poke too much fun at the very serious performer.

“Honestly, I thought that’d never end” Andrew muttered, arms crossed over his chest when the last notes faded away.

“Mmm,” Bianca smiled, “you should go up there. Show everyone how it’s done.”

Andrew seemed to shrink back into the couch, trying to disappear altogether, “Em…”

“Come on. I’ve never seen you sing before” she countered, batting her eyelashes at him.

“Do you live under a rock?”

“Noooo… I meant live, silly. In front of my own eyes!” She teased elbowing him.

He chuckled, “You should come to one of my gigs then. Can work out a triple A pass for you, if you want.”

“No, no, no!” She exclaimed, shoving him, “Sing me a Christmas tune, like… here at the party. I’m in the mood for a cliche holiday song.”

“What… that last one didn’t do it for you?” He joked, sitting forward and pushing up his sleeves again.

“Absolutely not. Get going.”

“Alright, alright” he smiled, hauling himself off the couch and over to the laptop that was set up with an open playlist. He stumbled a bit, tugging at the hem of his sweater while he scrolled the list finding one could do properly. He grabbed the mic, spotting the one he wanted.

Clearing his throat, he mumbled, “Em… I’ve had a couple of drinks so… dunno how well this’ll sound… but…”

He didn’t need to watch the little screen, he knew the lyrics well. When the tune kicked in Andrew started off shaking a bit even though there weren’t many people watching. He didn’t really care who was present anyways, because he only had eyes for her.

Bianca sat tucked into the couch, holding her drink with both her hands on her lap. Her full focus was on him, and he smiled shyly at her, making eye contact.

“Oh, the weather outside is frightful

But the fire is so delightful

And since we've no place to go

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!”

Bianca’s heart pounded so hard in her chest, she swallowed back the sound, hoping no one could hear it. She was melting, melting down right into the couch because he was singing not just for her, but to her. She glanced around to see if anyone else was paying attention, and there were a few, but when she glanced back, his eyes were still on her.

“It doesn't show signs of stopping

And I brought some corn for popping

The lights are turned down low

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow”

She sucked in her breath, the way his fingers pushed up the sleeves of that maroon sweater, and the way he gripped the mic, his nose just skimming the top of it. He had a scrap from a silver tinsel garland hanging haphazardly around his neck, and it made him look so much sweeter.

“When we finally kiss goodnight

How I'll hate to go out in the storm

But if you really hold me tight

All the way home I'll be warm”

Bianca worried her bottom lip as his eyes closed just for a moment to croon that particular line. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hug him; to cover him in kisses. Maybe they could run away together, and then they wouldn’t have a reason to come back to this silly party ever again…

“The fire is slowly dying

And my dear, we're still goodbying

But as long as you love me so

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow”

Andrew wanted to be with her; to see her again outside of this little bubble. The notes faded out, and he stared at her intently, making sure she knew. He clicked off the mic and set it aside, pushing up those damn sleeves again as he made his way back to the couch. He rubbed his palms on his jeans, his hands sweaty with nerves before he settled back in beside her.

“Hey…” he murmured, his body angled towards her, his arm on the back of the couch, so close to her now he could smell her perfume and he breathed in subtly to remember the notes forever.

Bianca’s heart was beating fast and she put her hand over it to calm it down. This… this wasn’t what she’d expected tonight; didn’t even think she’d still feel this way after all this time, but…

Andrew didn’t know if it was the right thing to do or not, but he did it anyways. He placed his hand on her thigh. She was soft and warm, and he knew she was going to taste sweet when he finally-

“Andrew… I-” she began, her voice small and timid.

“Bianca… I screwed up last year… I’m sorry… I, em… shouldn’t have let it go that far… I ruined your night… em, and it’s destroyed me ever since” Andrew admitted, getting out some of the words he’d practiced so many times over, “And then I let you leave… and, em… it’s crushed me ever since.”

He squeezed her thigh just above her knee, and she looked down at his hand, covering it with her own, “Andrew… it’s… it’s okay. That was a long time ago… I just think you should know…”

But Andrew wasn’t listening. Instead, he was leaning in towards her… his muddy eyes nearly falling closed as he licked his lips in anticipation. Bianca whimpered, the smell of him intoxicating her, his hand so soft and a little bit rough as he squeezed her. She could do it. She could close her eyes and do it. Just let it happen.

She gulped, watching him tilt his head in preparation and she gripped his fingers tight; hoping he’d understand, “Andrew, stop.”

This time, he heard her.

He halted, hovering so close to her, only pulling away just slightly. His eyes were full of confusion as he searched hers, “What? Do you, em… should we go somewhere else?”

Bianca shook her head, the tears prickling behind her eyes. How many times was she gonna cry at this stupid party anyways?

“No. I can’t… I can’t go anywhere with you. Not tonight.”

“But Bianca… I thought…?” Andrew’s heart sunk, unsure of what was happening exactly. He’d put himself out there… read all the signs… all the signals she’d sent…

“You’re going to hate me. I hate me.”

“Tell me” he said quickly, needing an immediate answer. After these last two months of torment and anguish from losing one girl, and then pining after the next…

“I have a boyfriend, Andrew.”

What.

Andrew’s heart sunk into the pit of his stomach and when he fully took in what she said, he retracted from her so fast it was as if he’d just scorched his hand on a hot iron.

“A boyfriend?” He sputtered, his head a complete mess. “But why would you…? Where is he then?”

Bianca gulped, the expression on Andrew’s face breaking her heart into a thousand pieces, “He couldn’t make it tonight… he wanted to, but…”

“And you’re serious?” He asked her softly, raising his eyebrow in disbelief, “You’re not just having a laugh because of last year?”

“I’m not lying to you. I’m… so…” she didn’t want to simply say sorry because, it was too insensitive. She’d already crushed him, she couldn’t do it again, “I… apologize for… leading you on… honestly… I was enjoying your company so much… I just love being around you… and if-”

“Don’t say it” he struggled trying to get off the stupid couch, wishing he could literally disappear right then, “Don’t fucking tell me if he wasn’t in the picture, because I don’t want to hear it.”

“But it’s true, Andrew!” Bianca cried in a whisper, sitting forward as he stood up. She ruined everything.

“That was a shit thing to do. You should know that.”

She’d never seen him upset. Ever. This was new. And it was eating her alive. She scrambled off the couch and after him as he turned to leave. “Wait!” she exclaimed, much louder than she’d intended. A few people turned to look at them, including Alex and Rory who’d come back into the room after all this time. She bowed her head sheepishly in front of their audience.

Andrew turned back to her, lowering his head as he stepped closer, “Bianca. Listen…” he waited for her to look up into his eyes and it felt like a thousand knives stabbing him in the gut. Rusty mangled knives, “We’ve gotta stop doing this to each other, yeah?”

A tear slipped down her cheek as she stared into those beautiful eyes of his, his soft, fluffy hair falling across his forehead in waves, “Last year you were seeing someone. And it killed me. What you’re feeling right now is exactly how I felt.”

“So you did it on purpose? Led me on so you could… just, em, embarrass me like that? So I would hurt as much as you did? Like payback?” He scoffed in disbelief.

“No! Never! I never meant to…” she sighed, “Andrew. Listen to me. I have liked you since the moment I met you. I’ve thought about you every single year since… and I thought… well… I can’t sit around and wait forever, so… I did something about it.”

Andrew sighed, “It’s just… never been the right time, has it?”

“No. It hasn’t” she told him softly, exhaling heavily.

“I don’t have anything else to say right now… em, so if you’ll excuse me… I’m gonna go.”

She grabbed his large hand, stopping him, “Wait…” he looked back at her, and she stood on her tiptoes, cupping his face with her other hand before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He looked down at her with so much sadness in his eyes, her soft lips tearing his heart right out, “I hope you have a good holiday, Bianca. I’ll see you around” he squeezed her hand once before pulling away.

Her hand dropped to her side when he let go, and she watched him sulk away, her legs like jelly. It was over. She’d literally ruined everything. Again. She should’ve just let it happen. What harm would a kiss have done?

Well, it ruined your last relationship, so…

“What just happened? Where’s Andy going? Why does your face look like you’ve seen a ghost? Too much to drink?” Alex’s slightly drunk questions were relentless.

“He hates me.”

Alex laughed, “Why’s that? You broke his heart or something?”

“As a matter of fact, yeah. I did. I told him I have a boyfriend.”

His face fell, “Oh” he watched Andrew escape through the front door, “That’s unfortunate… He erm… just broke up with his girl not too long ago, so… he’s feeling… sorta down right now. You know like, a gaping wound where his heart were before?”

Bianca closed her eyes. Maybe one year she wouldn’t fuck up royally, “Perfect. Well… I tried to apologize, but” she sighed, giving up, “He forgot his coat, Alex.”

“I’ll get it. Don’t worry” he patted her back, “It’s gonna be fine. He’ll be fine.”

She nodded as he too left her. And once again; she was alone.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, breaking her out of her trance. Some small part of her hoped it was Andrew… but then she realized, they’d never bothered to exchange any information.

I miss you. I hope you’re having fun. x

She sighed deeply at her boyfriend’s text, sending off a quick response, unsure even of what she said. The only thought on her mind now was Andrew, and the face he made just before he left.

“Merry fucking Christmas, Bianca.”

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