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lookingformoondrop · 3 months

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Yan!Andrew with his Reader who found out she's pregnant? Spoiler: She didn't want to have children.

Yan!Andrew Graves x Preg!Reader

TW: Unexpected pregnancy, hints at abortion, reader in captivity, manipulation, yandere Andrew, unwanted pregnancy

♡ Notes: I wrote this entire thing while on a train so you'll probably find a wild typo or error font somewhere here. I said in my last post that my next work would be a fluffy one, I lied. Sorry. Remember kids, practice safe sex, and dont act like Andy. Thank you so much for supporting me, anon! I appreciate all the requests and asks from you guys. <33

Andrew hummed as he removed his shoes and took off his coat.

Work was a drag, his boss was a dick, and his family was unbearable. But despite it all, he had you at the end of the day.

When he came home, he'd always hear your padded footsteps coming down the hall to greet him.

You'd wear one of his shirts or wear a cute outfit he'd pick out for you, all to make him happy.

He just loves you so much.

I mean, that's why he took you in the first place.

You had no idea who he was, only that he was a customer that came at odd times of the day in the cafe where you worked.

He could only guess how poor the pay must've been. How miserable you were... Yes, that's it.

As he watched you, he could spot the circles under your eyes, and he knew instantly that fate had brought you here, or maybe it was a cult summoning? Either way, you belonged with him. And he would bend heaven and earth to keep it that way.

Andrew blinked away his train of thought and looked up. He hadn't heard your footsteps.

That was unusual.

Andrew quickly slipped his bag to the ground and walked further into the house.

The kitchen was empty, minus the dishes and pots from last night's dinner that still remained untouched in the sink.

The living room was empty, minus the tissues scattered all over the floor, and the blankets that pooled the floor.

With his heart racing, he sprinted to the last room he hadn't checked. The bedroom.

He pushed the door open with haste; his eyes wildly searched the room.

The bed was unmade, and the sheets were shoved off the mattress, trailing onto the wooden floor.

As Andrew stepped further into the bedroom and he could hear the sound of the shower, and small sniffles coming from inside.

Andrew let out a sigh of relief, you hadn't left. You were still home with him. But now he had another problem to deal with.

He knocked on the bathroom door and heard a quick shuffle from the other side. The water turned off and Andrew flinched at the sound of objects crashing.

Then out you came, your eyes were red and your hair was messy, as if your fingers ran through them constantly.

You mustered a smile for Andrew, muttering out a weak 'welcome home' before Andrew grabbed your arms for inspection.

"What happened? What were you doing? Why were you crying?" He craned his neck out to try and look inside the bathroom, but you quickly closed the door.

"I was about to take a shower when you came home so uh, I dropped some bath products when I realized I hadn't greeted you." It was a horrible lie, really. You knew lying was one of Andrew's biggest pet peeves, even if he lied consistently himself.

"My little lamb, you're not making a lot of sense right now..." Andrew tried giving you a sweet smile, but the vein twitching in his forehead told you how he really felt.

His grip on your arms became tighter, and he leaned in closer, "I would like to know what you're keeping from me, please."

"I... I was crying," you cringed at how weak your voice sounded.

"Clearly, what else? Don't stall for time you don't have Y/N. Tell me who hurt you, I don't fucking care for the reason."

You peeled Andrew's hands off of you which was surprising giving his intense tone. You slowly walked to the bed and sat down, tracing the thread that was imbedded in your mattress. Your eyes lingered on the white sheets for a second too long.

Andrew followed suit, instead opting to go on his knees in front of you as to hold your hands.

He traced his name on your wrists with his finger and hummed a low tune, unremarkable at best, but it calmed your nerves.

"You are my bleeding heart, Y/N. Everything you feel, I long to taste, everything you love, I devour, and every secret you keep from me I savagely rip apart to find. What could you possibly keep from me, that I wouldn't find out in under a day?"

You kept still, refusing to meet Andrew's gaze.

"You have to promise you won't.. um, get mad." You chewed on your lip as you thought about your next words. The lump in your throat grew harder to swallow the more you thought about it.

How were you supposed to deliever such... news, when that news made you want to rip your hair out from stress.

"yeah, I promise. My little lamb, tell me, what is wrong?"

"I'm scared, Andrew." You looked up.

"Scared?" Answered Andrew, who let go of your wrists to instead settle around your waist.

He continued, "What could you possibly have to fear while with me? Are you afraid of someone?"

You shook your head, "no, well maybe, not yet I-" You took deep breaths, your chest felt like it was going to crack from the pressure.

"Not yet? What does that even mean?" Andrew furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose, trying to make sense of it all.

"Andrew, do you know what day of the month it is?"

Andy groaned; his patience was begging to grow thin. "Y/N, I'm done playing this game with you. Are you trying to provoke me to extreme measures or something?"

"No! Just... answer the question. What day of the month is it?"

Andrew shrugged, "It's the first of the month. It's my mom's birthday. It's trash day. It's Monday. I don't fucking know what this has to do with our conversation, Y/N!?"

"No Andrew, just listen to me! Look, I usually get my period on the first of every month. But last month I didn't get my period."

"So?" Andrew looked at you with annoyance in his features.

"So.... I should have gotten my period last month, but I didn't. I'm not an irregular person and I've been here awhile so..."

Andrew's features stayed scrunched with confusion and annoyance as the words mulled over in his head.

Then it hit him.

Andrew fell back on his butt in shock, staring at you, your belly, and then back to you. The realization so big that his brain stopped the train to language station.

"You're pregnant?" He muttered.

You nodded, the tears that danced on your waterline finally falling. Your chest shook, and you gasped deep breaths, the pressure you had on your chest this morning, becoming ten-fold the weight as Andrew processed this information.

Your head hung low as the sobs shook your ribcage.

Without realizing it, Andrew got back up and sat beside you on the bed.

Wrapping his arms around your head and body, so that your body pushed against his chest.

A gigantic smile placed itself on his face, every bad thing that happened up until that point dispearred in a cloud. The only thing he could think about was the baby you were growing.

His baby.

Finally, Andrew let you go and grabbed your face, lifting it up so that he could place gentle kisses on your forehead. "My Y/N, thank you. This... fuck, I thought you were going to say something horrible, but this? Shit, this is the best news I could have ever heard, well maybe besides news of my sister's death or imprisonment but shit this is even better!"

His kisses became harder and more passionate. But he hadn't noticed the soul that had left your body. Instead, you looked at him terrified.

"But... Andrew, I'm not ready for this. I- I don't even think I'm old enough to be raising children, let alone birth one. This thing could rip me apart." Your breathing became quicker, the pressure on your chest becoming an unbearable pain.

You were so sure that Andrew would hate the idea of children, that he would have the initiative to take this thing out of you, but he was so happy, so much so he couldn't be bothered to notice your despair.

"Doesn't matter. You need to stop worrying about things that haven't even happened yet. You're pregnant, and that's all that matters. You're pregnant with my baby, and you will live through every moment." His smile never faltered as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, humming a sweeter tune this time and rubbing your tummy.

"I'm not ready," you cried, shaking your head profusely.

Andrew looked up with a smile, trailing his forefinger down the bridge of your nose.

"Doesn't matter."

You held onto Andrew's hands as he leaned forward and embraced you. Sighing deeply into your chest.

"I love our little family. Don't you?"

Thank you for the ask!<3

#the coffin of andy and leyley #x reader #andrew graves #andy graves #y/n #andrew graves x reader #andy graves x reader #headcanons #tw pregnancy #tw yandere #yandere x reader #toxic relationship #not proofread #dark content

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omegalomania · 9 months

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the new ask anything interview with andy is making me lose my fucking GRIP good lord.

he'd want billy joel to cover what a catch donnie (it's one of andy's favorite songs of theirs)

for andy, he doesn't feel like he doesn't get held back very much by fob's sonics, especially because he can go ham with fills and such live. "we all collaborate on songs, so it really is everything...it is each of us."

he thinks today's outfits are their best era lmao

his must-have item is his switch, his nintendo 2ds, or his ipad mini...or his crossfit shoes

wrt the 8ball songs: "i think the initial plan wasn't that every night would be a new song but it quickly became that way because we did like three in a row and it was just so much fun, people seemed to really dig it, and we really loved it 'cause we got to learn songs we've never played before, songs we've always wanted to play, songs we've only played once or twice, and you guys just seemed to love it"

the 8ball portion of the set is andy's favorite part every night because the crowd reacts so strongly and he has fun playing something new, so he thinks it's super rewarding for both the band and the audience!

27 was one of his favorites to play live! xo and pavlove too

he loves touring! "i love it, it's what i wanna do for the rest of my life, it's what i've always loved. i love being in all these different places in the world with my best friends"

he says it is hard to be away from home/family/pets and to break the sense of routine that way. "the band is family, so that makes it all worth it to me."

they learn the 8ball songs the day of, so they're the hardest to play. stuff from tttyg is hard because they were so early in his career but he says those songs are "kind of ingrained in me in a way" so he says gin joints might be the hardest. the hardest part was mostly just how many different songs/parts there were!

#fall out boy #andy hurley #*making poasts #i wasnt gonna make a recap but he JUST KEPT SAYING THINGS THAT MADE ME GO WHAT...WHAT!!#WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY LEARN THEM THE DAY OF.

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navybrat817 · 11 months

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Negotiations

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You meet with Andy to discuss the terms of your potential contract. Word Count: Over 4.2k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, tension, slight insecurities, negotiations, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Work felt like the longest shift even though it was only a few hours. You saw the customers through a different set of eyes as you served them. You wondered how many of them struggled like you or what they would do if someone like Andy entered their lives. If you came to an agreement with him on everything, you weren't sure if you'd ever step foot in the diner again after you quit. Not because you were embarrassed.

It was merely time to look forward.

And look my best.

You turned to the side when you checked your reflection. Estelle had way too much fun picking out an outfit for you. After carefully searching and sneakily looking at the price tag so she didn’t splurge, you opted for a sleeveless, blazer style dress. Nothing over the top or too fancy. You still wanted to look like you while looking professional.

Though she insisted it was your birthday gift, along with the surprisingly comfortable black heels, you planned to pay her back. Whether from the money Andy gave you or once you got your paycheck months from now at your new job. If she refused, you’d tell her the only gift you needed was her support and she gave that to you. Like she knew you were thinking about it, she messaged you.

“Good luck! I know you look hot! Knock his socks and pants off! He better give you everything you deserve!”

You had to smile at her enthusiasm. “It’s his office. His pants are staying on.”

“You say that now, but he’s the boss. You’ll change your tune once he has his hands on you.”

Laughing as you tucked your phone away, you couldn’t completely disagree with her. Andy robbed you of your breath whenever you saw him and it surprised you that you could maintain logical thinking when he was close by. You had to maintain that rational headspace today. He was a man used to people telling him what he wanted to hear. As an ex-lawyer and businessman, he could sway things in his favor if you weren’t careful.

Considering what he was offering you, it didn’t once feel like he was taking advantage of your misfortunes.

You stopped yourself from messaging Andy that you were on your way. He was a busy man with more important stuff to deal with than a check-in from you. It would be one of the topics of discussion shortly anyhow. Would he want to know where you are at all times or would he be content with the occasional message?

How much control will he want over me? How much do I want to give him?

Thanking and paying the cab driver as you arrived at the building, you didn't feel as out of your element the way you did at the restaurant. The office setting was familiar. It was bittersweet going inside though for something that wasn't work or an interview. Maybe this was better.

You held your head high as if it was.

I can do this.

You handed your bag over for the security officer to check while he verified your identification. Satisfied once he double checked your name and ID, he handed you a guest badge and allowed you to go to the elevators. It comforted you that Andy and his employees were safe when they went into his building. You wondered how often you'd be here or if he'd keep you away from his office outside of functions.

You avoided looking at anyone as you got into the elevator, though you felt the eyes of a couple of men sweep over your body. It didn’t matter what they thought. Andy was the only one you wanted to look good for. As you passed by each floor, the more you worried about breaking into a sweat. You shifted back and forth until the door opened.

One step closer.

It took you a second to move your feet forward and turn down the hall. It seemed to stretch on for miles, the door at the end of it was large and daunting. It was like entering the lion’s den, but you weren't afraid. Even if you did pause again before you turned the handle and walked in.

An older woman, Irene according to the nameplate on her desk, sat outside of a set of double doors, giving you a kind smile as she looked up from her keyboard. You didn't let her appearance fool you. Anyone who worked for someone as powerful as Andy likely had thick skin and a "take no crap" attitude.

"How may I help you?"

"Hi. I'm here to see Andy Barber," you replied, giving her your name and inwardly wincing. Of course, she knew you were there to see him. Why else would you be there?

"Yes, Mr. Barber is expecting you," she smiled, pressing the intercom on her desk. "Mr. Barber, your 4pm is here."

"Send her in, please."

It isn't fair that he sounds sexy through a speaker box.

"May I get you anything to drink?" she asked.

"No, thank you," you smiled, following her as she opened the double doors.

This is it.

The office was just as you imagined, the walls lined with a mixture of art and accolades. A small table and chairs sat on one side with a couch on the other. It was elegant, but the man behind the desk drew your attention. Sunlight filtered in through the floor to ceiling windows behind Andy, casting a halo around him as he stood up. A symbol of power and authority in his black suit with the skyline behind him, you found it difficult to take your next breath.

He looks like he was born to be in charge.

"It's good to see you again," Andy smiled, walking around the desk and gesturing to the table. "Why don't we sit over here? Did Irene offer you a drink?"

"Of course, I did, Mr. Barber. And before you remind me, I know to hold your calls," she chastised him, which only made him chuckle before she smiled at you. "I'll be just outside if you need anything."

I knew it. Take no crap.

"Thank you," you said, giggling as you walked to the table. "I like her."

"I do, too. She keeps me on my toes," he said as he pulled out the chair for you. "How was your day?"

"Uneventful," you replied, setting your bag beside you. It was nice that he asked. "How are you?"

"My day was just fine," he said, taking a seat. He had a notepad waiting there, similar to yours.

"That's good."

He gave you a half smile and you debated whether or not to continue with small talk. "Nervous?"

“A little bit,” you said, refusing to lie to him. It wouldn’t start things off on the right foot if you did. “I didn’t have ‘Sugar Daddy Negotiations’ on my BINGO card this year.”

He chuckled, the sound beautiful in the large space. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t either," he joked. "And you don’t look nervous.”

“It actually does,” you smiled. “How do I look?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Oh,” you said, your cheeks growing warmer the longer he gazed at you. While you wanted that to be his reaction, it was somehow unexpected. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, by the way.”

“And I wasn’t taking the bait. I’m telling you what I see.”

“Thank you. This was a birthday gift from Estelle,” you said, smoothing out the dress even though you were sitting. Why you felt the need to tell him, you weren’t sure.

“It’s a beautiful dress, but I was talking about your smile,” he said, his lip tugging in a small smile of his own before he cleared his throat. “As much as I’d like to sit here and continue to shower you with praise, maybe we should save that for another time.”

Your throat went dry at the implication, but you didn't want to get ahead of yourself. “Of course."

"Today is about figuring out our terms and setting expectations. I plan to take notes as we go along, if you don't mind."

"That's fine because I plan to do the same," you explained as you took out your notepad. "I’ve made a list of things I believe we should discuss and agree on before moving forward."

“You’re prepared,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "And getting down to business like last time."

“I do what I can,” you said, glancing at the first item on your list. “First thing is the length of our contract. You mentioned Mr. Huffman’s merger could take a few months, but there’s no definitive timeframe. My proposal is six months or when the job becomes available, whichever comes sooner.”

He considered your words carefully. “I spoke with Scott again and a merger like this may take a minimum of six months due to the range of variables. I propose a year or when the job becomes available. It hopefully won’t take that long, but I’d feel more comfortable if we have more time as opposed to less.”

A year was a long time, but you understood his perspective. “Why don’t we meet in the middle? Nine months.”

“Nine months, but if the merger is still pending at that time, we can revisit the contract and extend it if needed,” he proposed.

“Agreed,” you said, jotting down your notes on your pad while he did the same. “My job. You said I would need to quit and I’d be unable to take another position while under contract. I have no objections to that, but I won’t flat-out quit the diner. I’ll put in my two week notice. If they tell me not to come back, that’s on them.”

“I think that’s the respectable thing to do,” he said, nodding to your pad. “I don’t know where living arrangements are on your list, but I’d like to discuss that next.”

You wanted to discuss your free time since you wouldn't have a job any longer, but you would circle back to that. “Okay. You said over lunch that you’re not comfortable with me staying in my current place.”

“I did and I stand by that. I understand that my building doesn’t guarantee complete safety over yours because anything could happen anywhere at any time, but knowing you’re close by would help put me at ease. I have a loft ready to go and you can treat it as your own place. If something isn’t to your liking, we can change it within reason.”

“Within reason?”

Andy smirked slightly. “I can’t exactly take a sledgehammer to the wall if you want to make the space bigger,” he said, taking out his phone and pulling up an image. “But it’s a nice place. Feel free to swipe through it.”

The photos were beautiful and the living room alone looked larger than your entire apartment. “Is spending time at your place an expectation?” you asked.

“I’d like it if you did for an occasional dinner, but I understand if you'd rather not. I'd also like to meet you once a month outside of contractual obligations to talk.”

Sounds like a date. Is it though?

“I agree to the loft, the occasional dinner, and meeting with you once a month," you agreed. It wasn't overwhelming or demanding. You'd still have a sense of independence. "But I’d like to keep my current apartment. If I take this job in the upcoming months, I can't expect you to cover the loft anymore and I doubt I could afford it even with a decent salary. I’ll need a place to go back to until I find something better.”

"I own it," he said. He wasn't bragging in your mind. He was stating a fact.

"I doubt I could afford your rent then. I keep my apartment."

“Done,” he said after a moment. You were glad he agreed. Your apartment was still yours. “Which is a good segway into expenses. As a reminder, I plan to cover the rent for your current apartment, along with any bills associated with it such as cable or internet. If you prefer to shut those off during the contract, we can. I’ll also cover your cell phone, insurance, credit card bills, student loans, any debt you pay on a monthly basis. Oh, and groceries.”

Tears filled your eyes as he opened his mouth to continue. The more you tried to compose yourself, the more your face scrunched up. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. You hadn't expected to get emotional, but actually hearing him say he’d cover your monthly bills and help you stay on top of everything was unreal. You'd sleep better at night knowing you had nothing to worry about.

I probably look ridiculous.

“Don’t be,” he said gently, handing you his handkerchief so you could dab your eyes.

“I’m just,” you stopped to take a breath. It was okay to be vulnerable. That was part of communicating. “I’ve carried this stress on my shoulders and knowing that you’re going to take some of that weight away is… I’m never going to be able to repay you for that or thank you enough.”

“I don’t expect a monetary repayment nor would I want that. I told you, honey. You're an honest and kind person. Your company is going to be more than enough.”

He sounds too good to be true.

“You say that now, but you'll grow tired of me,” you teased, holding out your hand to give him the handkerchief. “Thank you.”

He shook his head and refused to take it back. “Keep it. And considering I offered a year for this, I know I won't grow tired of your company,” he said, a bit of concern in his eyes as you sniffled. “Are you okay to continue? We can take a break.”

“I'm fine,” you promised, straightening up and feeling lighter, like the weight was already gone. “We were discussing expenses.”

“Yes,” he smiled, gesturing to your outfit. “I plan to take you shopping so you can have a few outfits, jewelry, shoes, make-up, and whatever else you need ready for the planned upcoming events, as well as some dressed down outfits so you’re comfortable when we travel and to spruce up your wardrobe if you’d like.”

Careful. You’re going to spoil me.

“I’m also going to deposit two thousand dollars into your account each month for your leisure,” he added, writing it on his pad as if that was the final say in the matter.

“Two thousand dollars?!” you nearly shouted. You weren’t trying to sound hysterical, but you failed. “I’m sorry, but who spends that much on clothes each month?!”

Andy looked like he was trying not to laugh at the incredulous look on your face. “You don’t have to spend it on clothes. It’s for you to use as you wish.”

“But you’re already buying me a whole new wardrobe AND covering all of my bills and expenses for nine months. I’m assuming you're covering travel expenses, too?”

“I will,” he confirmed.

“Then there’s no reason why I’d need that much money,” you said with a shake of your head. Estelle would probably tease you for not agreeing, but it was too much. “I can’t possibly need more than five hundred a month.”

“One thousand,” he said firmly as you narrowed your eyes. “Humor me, honey. Please?”

You tapped your pen against the pad as you thought it over. You really didn’t see a reason for that much, but you could put any leftover funds each month into savings. It would be good to pay Estelle back.

Plus, how could you argue when Andy gave you a sweet smile?

“Fine. One thousand each month,” you said, ignoring the look of satisfaction in his eyes. “Okay. We’ve discussed the length of the contract, my job, living arrangements, expenses, which includes traveling. How about traveling itself?”

“Is your passport current?” he asked.

“It is.”

“Good. Some of the traveling will require us to go out of the country and you’ll need it handy. We’ll need to coordinate our schedules so you can block off dates in your calendar. We’ll most likely share a suite for any non-local events, but I’m not going to make you share a bed with me. You have my word.”

You nodded as you wrote that down. It was a bit of a surprise that he didn’t expect you to sleep with him. “Thank you, Andy,” you said, pointing at him with your pen. “But I’m planning to tell Estelle about every function, big or small, so she knows where I am. I won’t budge on that.”

“You’re allowed to give her the details. You said you trust her and that she can be discreet.”

You could never picture Andy as a creep, but the confirmation that he wouldn't force you to sleep with him and that Estelle would know what's going on helped you relax. "If I'm not working or going to functions with you, what am I doing with the rest of my time?" you asked.

Does he expect me to be at his beck and call?

"I'm glad you asked. It's your time to do what you want. Relax, hang out with friends, pamper yourself. Minus the days you'll have blocked out in your calendar, the time is yours," he explained, lightly twirling his pen in his hand. The motion momentarily distracted you. "I only ask if you plan to leave the city to tell me, that way I know you're unavailable if anything last minute comes up."

You weren't sure what you were going to do with that extra time. While a nine month long vacation sounded nice, you didn't want it to be all leisure. You needed somewhat of a routine. Maybe you could take some self development courses to prepare for going back to the office.

"That's fair. I don't have any plans to leave the city, but I'll be sure to let you know if I do," you said, hoping you weren't missing anything as you looked over what you had written down. "What if I’m sick or there’s an emergency and I can't be with you?”

“Then you won’t go," he said as a matter of fact. "I’d never ask you to choose between this arrangement and your well-being or family. Depending on the situation, I could miss it to help you.”

That was unexpected. Andy shouldn't have to put you ahead of any of his obligations. The offer though, even if it never came to fruition, warmed your insides. "That's kind of you, Andy," you said softly before you cleared your throat. “The last topic I have written down is sex.”

“No,” he said, something unreadable in his eyes at the suggestion. “Sex is not on the table because I’m not going to pay you for that.”

“Oh,” you said, quickly scratching it off your list. It was admirable on his part, but also slightly disappointing. Clearly you misread some of the signals. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, placing his hand over yours before you could pull it away. “If I sounded harsh, I’m sorry. I understand sex is an expectation for some arrangements, but it isn’t for me and I would never want you to feel pressured to be physical with me. I also have no judgments against anyone who pays for sex. My preference regarding intimacy is for it to happen organically.”

“I appreciate the explanation,” you said. This was a business transaction to him. That much was clear. But knowing his reasoning behind it did help. “As far as being affectionate at functions, what’s your take on that? Or going on dates?”

“I may have my arm around you or keep you close to my side, but nothing more if you’re uncomfortable with that. If you are, please tell me and I’ll stop immediately,” he answered before a moment of silence stretched on. "You're asking if we're going to go on dates?"

"You mentioned meeting once a month. Is that a date?"

He waited a few seconds before he answered. "It's a chance for us to meet up and talk. I don't want to demand a title for those moments. That isn't fair to you."

It wasn't a "yes" or "no" answer. Maybe after his divorce and not knowing if people genuinely wanted to connect with him, he wasn't interested in the dating scene. "Okay."

He leaned back in his chair with a hum. “You deviated from the sex discussion quickly.”

“You said it wasn’t on the table,” you reminded him. You weren't about to make a fool of yourself by pushing.

“I said I wasn’t going to pay you for sex. I never said sex wasn’t on the table at all,” he pointed out. You jumped to the conclusion that he didn't want it because it wouldn't be part of the contract. “Any discussion we have regarding that, I’d prefer not to be in a contract form.”

“So if it does happen, we’ll work through it together naturally?” you asked, not wanting to get your hopes up.

His gaze softened considerably. “Yes, we would. And I’d hope you’d trust me enough to know I’d treat you well and take care of you.”

"I do," you said.

"But sex and a relationship aren't expectations of our agreement or outside of it," he said, taking his hand away from yours. "I want to make that clear."

Andy driving the point home was what you needed, as saddening as it was. At the end of the day, it was a contract. He was paying you for your company. Surely he didn't want anything else. "Thank you for reiterating that. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss that I missed?"

His expression remained neutral, but you imagined it disappointed him that you shifted the conversation back to business. Wishful thinking on your part. "Yeah. The only other thing I wanted to discuss is the possibility of you having a driver."

"A driver?" you asked. Wasn't that a bit much? "I don't mind taking cabs or Ubers."

"I understand that, but I'd prefer if you had a driver. If you have to meet me for an event and I can't escort you myself, they will know exactly where to go. You also won't have to pay for someone to drive you around if you want to go anywhere."

"But you're paying them," you said.

"My job is to cover your expenses," he shrugged, leaning his head back and reaching up to loosen his tie. You stared for far too long. "Told you I want to take care of you, honey."

You shifted in your seat, hoping he didn't take any notice. "I want to pick the driver," you said, a little more breathy than before.

That poor driver is likely going to be bored for the next three quarters of a year being my chauffeur.

"From a selection of my choosing. They're all trustworthy."

"I'm giving Estelle the details of that, too," you said.

"I expect nothing less," he smiled, catching your eye. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"

"Not that I can think of," you said.

He tapped the notepad with his pen. "I'm going to have a contract drawn up, but I won't ask you to sign it for a week. This will give you time to back out if you need to and it will also give you a few days to contact me should you think of anything else."

"One week," you whispered. Could you wait that long? What if you did think of something else?

"Until then," he said, standing to walk back to his desk. He came back with a letter sized envelope. "So you know I'm serious."

Your eyebrows shot up when you opened the envelope. It was a cashier's check for two thousand dollars made out to you. He had it ready for you. "Andy, this-"

"I know we agreed on one thousand, but I was set on two thousand before we talked it over. Even if you decide not to move forward with this, I want you to take it."

Afraid you might cry again, you set the check down and stood up to hug him. He stiffened in your hold and you wondered if you overstepped before he exhaled and wrapped his arms around your back. You thanked him already with your words, so you wanted to do it again with a hug. The way he held you in return, it felt like was saying "you're welcome".

And that you weren't alone.

"I wish we could have that dinner tonight," he whispered, his mouth close to your ear. You shivered before you reluctantly pulled away. "Unfortunately, I have to get drinks with a few executives."

"That sounds terrible," you teased, drawing a chuckle out of him. "I should get going then."

"It is terrible," he agreed, making sure you had the check and your other things as he led you to the door. "I'll see you back here in a week at the same time."

"And I'll hopefully speak to you before then," you said, not wanting to sound clingy.

But the smile he gave you was a sign of hope. "I'd like that."

This is going to be the longest week ever.

I don't need to wait a week. I'm signing on the dotted line! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x female!reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #andy barber #sugar daddy!andy barber x reader #sugar daddy!andy barber #terms and conditions au #andy barber imagine #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber au #sugar daddy au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

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justanamesstuff · 2 months

Text

Sweeter than honey - Hozier x f!reader

A/N: sorry not sorry if this is the most cliché thing about Andy but couldn't help my self. This fic is a statement to say this man deserves more stories under his name <33 love you forest daddy (hope you never reads this haha) Warnings: FLUFF, typos Words count: 0.7 k

The short path from Andrew’s house to the –no so small — patch of his land, destined to his bees, felt like it took ages to walk down. She felt her stomach turn due to anxiety thinking about the task in hand. Y/n had been stung by a bee during her childhood, traumatizing her enough so the pain, the fear, remained for years and years. The woman damned herself for being in love with the biggest beekeeper around town.

Her sight fell on Andrew’s back, watching him walk with so much excitement, she couldn’t reciprocate. The man had been trying for the longest time to convince his girlfriend to meet his bees, being the offer declined time and time again. Until Y/n felt guilty enough and finally said yes. She would never forget the bright smile he gifted her when Y/n timidly asked about the process and she could join him during his next visit.

As if he could sense her eyes on him, Andrew turned around still walking not wasting any minute, scared about Y/n changing her mind.

“Baby?” his smile fell a little.

“If one of them sting me…” she warned him, still scared of the situation.

Andrew stopped in his tracks, worried about his girlfriend once more. The man grabbed her hand on his, sharing some warmth, wishing it could take away her fear.

Searching for her eyes, he continued, “trust me, okay?”

Y/n couldn’t help to push her feet down on the earth like a little child throwing a tantrum. The act made her boyfriend laugh.

“Baby…” she wanted to wipe his amusement away.

“Stop making fun of me. This is serious for me, Andy.”

He moved closer and closer, rounding her with his big arms.

Y/n felt his breath on her hair line, “I know, I know. Everything will be okay, I wouldn’t let you get hurt, baby. I promise.” Andrew ended his sentence leaving a kiss on her forehead.

“Okay, let's do this.” she moved backwards, giving him a stronger look than before, trying to let him know she was ready.

Hand in hand, they approached the colonies.

……………………………………..

In the end, Y/n had fun with Andrew and his bees. He showed her the day-to-day work, the progress of each colony, and even she saw a queen from up close, which excited her the most. She did fell scared during the first movements when he was worried about a box falling apart and all his attention was in transferring the colony to their new home.

Even though after that short moment, her boyfriend was focused on making her fell comfortable around his little friends. It was even ironic how gentle the bees were, just as Andy, making her fell quickly in love with them.

Y/n watched him too his special outfit, trying to comb his long hair, and like a little excited girl she started talking.

“So, when do we come back?”

Andrew chuckled.

“Someone is not scared any more, huh?” he teased her, combing his hair back into his signature bun.

Y/n felt too seen by her boyfriend, “Well, I-”

“We can return tomorrow, if you want…” Andrew offered, taking her face between his big hands.

“Really?”

“Yes, baby. Whatever you want.”

“I would love to!” she answered, looking into his soft eyes.

“Me too.” he left a kick kiss on her lips, feeling her relax into his embrace.

Y/n was the first one to push back, “I can’t wait to see them again.”

Andrew, amazed by her changed of attitude towards the bees, faked a frown.

“I’m starting to believe you prefer them over me.”

“Hundred percent yes!” Y/n joined the joke, whispering her answer before covering her mouth quickly with her hand. “Never, my love.”

The singer laughed at her antics, leaning down to kiss her once more.

Without many more words, Andrew and Y/n walked in silence towards his house when an intrusive though crossed Y/n’s head.

“Would you name a queen after me?”

Andy stayed silence.

“Andy?”

Still no answer.

“Don’t tell me…” Y/n turned to witness a very red-faced Andrew. “Stop it! You’re too sweet to be true, honey!” she exclaimed, making her best effort to kiss his blushed cheeks.

#hozier #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #andrew hozier byrne

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padfootagain · 2 months

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Only an Almost (II)

Chapter 2: The Dangers of a Night Out

Hi everyone! Here is chapter two! Let’s see how this whole mess began, shall we?

I hope you like it! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count: 3535

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Three months earlier

God, you were beautiful.

As he stared at you, Andrew felt like the rest of the world had disappeared. He was vaguely aware of Alex’s presence by his side in the booth, vaguely aware of the loud music playing in the pub, vaguely aware of people laughing while you walked in. You always looked stunning in his eyes, you always drew his gaze back to you, even in crowded rooms. But tonight… he was not certain why he was getting so awestruck by you but he did, and all the air was knocked out of his lungs, and the world vanished around you. You had chosen your outfit carefully tonight, it was obvious, like everybody else. Sam had warned all of you that he was not going to celebrate his engagement in sweatpants, and you all played along, dressing fancy, for a change.

And by all the goodness in this world, Andrew was about to faint as you sat by his side, grinning at him with this generous, infectious smile of yours. Your eyes were shining, your eyelashes were so long he could have slid over their curve. And your perfume drowned him into something more dangerous and marvellous than water, and he couldn’t fucking breathe, and…

“Hi! I’m glad you came, Andy.”

He was pretty sure that he had a stupid grin on his face, like the lovesick fool he was, but he didn’t really care. He was too stunned to do so.

Meanwhile, he suddenly realised that you were looking at the rest of your friends gathered around the table, and you were rolling your eyes at something they had said. Andrew blinked a few times, forced his mind back into action and finally listened to the words spoken among the group.

“Wow, Y/N you’re not joking around with the dress code!”

“You said dress formal, I dressed formal.”

“You are aware that I am not getting married tonight, right?” Sam jumped in with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes again.

“I am aware. But if you prefer, I can get changed and wear sweatpants again!”

“No! We’re just taking the piss… you look amazing.”

“Thanks!”

You turned to him then, and Andrew blinked like an idiot, lips slightly parted, trying to force his brain into working again…

“How are you doing, Andy?”

“Grand! Good…” he nodded, voice dropping by an octave, before he cleared his throat. “What about you? Did you have a good week?”

You nodded, started talking about work, about that colleague of yours that kept on pissing you off, and the other you spent too much time laughing with.

Your friends were soon divided into smaller groups, cut in small conversations that people jumped in and out of. A beer was drunk, and then another, and then a couple of shots. Andrew could feel his cheeks reddening, the flush creeping up his skin as the liquor kicked in and made him laugh harder, smile brighter, loosened up the knot in his stomach. You made him nervous. After all this time, after years spent as friends, you still made him nervous. He couldn’t help it.

There was a time, at the very beginning, when he didn’t see you like this; with butterflies in his stomach and a tightening throat and an excited jump of his heart every time his eyes met yours. There was a time when you were simply friends. He was not single, and you were in a relationship. There was no room in either of your hearts for anything more than platonic affections. And then his relationship crumbled because of touring, and when he came back to Ireland, everything changed. On his end, at least…

You, you were still living a happy life with your boyfriend, until he went on to break your heart. You lost yourself in your work, it was easier then to forget the pain rather than conquer it. A couple of months ago, you were promoted, and Andrew knew that you wanted to focus on your career for now. It was okay, it wasn’t like he would have the courage to tell you how he felt anyway…

Oh, he had thought about it. About telling you everything, about finally speaking up and revealing everything but then again… why take the risk? You had never given him any sign that you could feel that way towards him. And he knew you were not looking for a relationship at the moment. So why take the risk to lose you when all odds seemed against him?

Another round of Guiness was passed around, and you we still here, talking to him. A few friends had jumped in the conversation now and then, but you hadn’t wandered away and neither had he. And Andrew knew he was a fool for forming such thoughts, but he couldn’t help being glad that you were willing to spend your entire evening talking with him, out of all people…

He was halfway through telling you about his upcoming honey harvest when everyone around the group grew quiet. Sam and Daphne had risen, holding up their drinks, and you and Andrew turned to them as well.

“Well, we won’t be long with our speech, but we… Daphne and I just want to thank all of you for coming tonight to celebrate our engagement. Thank you for your support and your love over so many years of absolute craic. We’re counting on you all to help us for our big day, and to spare us both from your most embarrassing stories about us before our in-laws…”

The table cheered and laughed and clapped to congratulate the couple as they exchanged a kiss.

“And now, everybody up! We’re dancing!” Daphne ordered, and all stood, except for Andrew, who lingered with his beer, trying to escape…

… and failing.

“That includes you, mister!” Daphne dragged him away from the table, and he playfully tried to resist.

“Daphne…”

“Come on, Andy!”

Sam came to his rescue, wrapping an arm around his fiancée’s shoulders.

“Leave the poor lad alone!” he laughed, owning a grateful nod from Andrew. “Besides, don’t scare him too much, I have a favour to ask!”

“A favour? You? God, that sounds like trouble,” Andrew chuckled.

Meanwhile, Andrew had spotted you in the crowd. There wasn’t exactly a place to dance per say in the bar, just an empty space before a “stage”, if one could call a lonely stool and a jukebox that way. Still, it was enough for the group to have fun, and soon other people hanging out in the pub joined the merry party. Andrew looked away when a stranger started to dance with you.

When he turned to Sam again, his friend had grown serious, almost nervous. Andrew rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Sam, you’re okay? I was just joking. You know you can ask me anything.”

“It’s just… yeah, I don’t know why I’m nervous. I guess… it’s just important to me.”

Sam blinked tears away before speaking again, his voice deeper than usual.

“We’ve known each other since forever you and I, Andy. You… we go way back.”

“Too far back to mention that part, it will make us feel old,” Andrew joked, successfully making his friend laugh.

“Yeah, let’s not dive into that… what I mean is… I know that you’re busy, and you’re always travelling for your career but… It’s important for me that you’re here…”

“I’ll be at your wedding Sam. You don’t have to worry about that. You really think I would miss my oldest friend’s wedding? Are you insane?”

Sam nodded, but he still seemed nervous.

“Actually… I wanted to ask you to be my best man. Would you do that for me?”

It was Andrew’s turn to feel tears gather at the corner of his eyes. He stared at this friend who had been in his life for so long; felt the long, painful pull of love grow stronger by the second. He was one of those people Andrew couldn’t imagine anywhere but in his life. They had known each other since what felt like forever. Had been there for each other through first loves, breakups, disappointments, successes… He was a constant in his life. And Andrew was glad that Sam seemed to feel the same about their long friendship.

“It would be an honour, Sam. Of course, I would love to.”

“That means helping with the wedding…”

“You can count on me. You can always count on me, you know that.”

Before he could get another word out, Sam was giving him a bone-crushing hug.

“Thanks, Andy.”

“Thank you, Sam. Thanks for asking me.”

Daphne joined the embrace with an emotional giggle, and all three friends hugged for a moment, the moment blissful and light and full of love.

“Oh, by the way… have you heard about Y/N?” Daphne asked as they separated.

Andrew tilted his head slightly.

“What about Y/N?”

“She doesn’t have any plus-one for the wedding… and you don’t have a plus-one for the wedding either…”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

“Please, Daphne…”

“Come on! You two are meant to be together! Make a fucking move!”

“She doesn’t see me like that…”

“Andy, mate… she does. Trust me she fucking does. She’s just afraid to admit it,” Sam replied.

“Oh, and when did you become an expert in relationships?”

“I’m the one who’s managed to land the most beautiful woman in Ireland and make her marry me! So, I’d say I’m fairly better at this than you and your sorry single arse!”

“Touché…”

Andrew heaved a sigh.

“Thanks for worrying about me, guys… but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“We’ve tried… again,” Daphne shrugged, before dragging her fiancé away for a dance.

They looked adorable and so disgustingly happy like this, wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying to the music, grins plastered on their faces and stealing kisses now and then…

Andrew was too busy looking at his friends to notice you walking towards him.

“Andy! Come on! Dance with me!”

He shook his head.

“No, no… really, you know I can’t dance. Too much limb…”

“Come on! Please! Just one dance with me!”

He heaved a sigh, his will already crumbling. God, he really couldn’t say no to anything when it came to you…

“Besides, there’s this guy trying to dance with me, and I need a bodyguard,” you went on, and Andrew wasn’t sure if you were lying or not, but it worked anyway, and he yielded.

He put down his beer on the table behind him, and let you pull him in the midst of the friendly group. He moved awkwardly to the beat, and yet he was grinning, seeing you full of joy enough of a wonder to make him feel warm. You were giggling at some of his moves, but he would have been lying had he pretended that he didn’t do it on purpose, just to make you laugh, just to see that expression of bliss on your features. You sang the chorus together, at the top of your lungs. And perhaps the liquor wasn’t helping, but Andrew felt light-headed as he watched you being silly and happy. The thought that he had something to do with the grin that adorned your lips made his heart expand against his ribcage, warm and full of happiness.

But then the rhythm faded, and another song was chosen on the jukebox, and Andrew’s heart started pounding as you walked closer.

Who had chosen a slow song…?

You stood before him, as if waiting for him to make a move, to hold you against him, to guide you in a dance. Andrew was too shy for it, too nervous, too afraid to overstep. He offered you his open palm instead, a silent way to ask for permission. You grinned, took his hand without an ounce of hesitation.

Were Sam and Daphne right, after all? Did you see him like that, too?

You leaned into him as he rested a hand across the small of your back, giving him a smile that was shyer than your usual ones. You seemed almost nervous.

Andrew was certain that he had a lovesick expression plastered on his face… and yet couldn’t find a way to care.

Your body was so warm against his. He wasn’t holding you too close, but sometimes your bodies touched or brushed, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe. He bent down a little to rest the side of his chin against your hair, and closed his eyes. He heard you letting out a shaky breath at that gesture, but you didn’t push him away. On the contrary, he could have sworn that you leaned into his touch…

Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald were singing of the beauty of New York in autumnal hues, and while the notes lasted, Andrew couldn’t think of anything but their voices and your hand in his, the warmth of your body under his palm, the tickle of your hair against his chin. He could barely register moving at all. Your perfume filled his senses, made his head spin. He was certain to be too old to be so moved by another person, by such innocent touches, by such a simple moment. And yet he was, worse than a teenager dancing with his first crush. If he managed to avoid a heart-attack tonight, he might just start believing in miracles…

This was dangerous, Andrew knew he was playing with fire. Or rather, playing with cardiac-arrest, but that was the same thing. How could another human have so much effect on him? It shouldn’t be allowed.

The music kept on playing, and you kept on following his lead as he gently swayed, movements slow and peaceful, even tender, he couldn’t help it…

He recognized the last notes of the song, took a deep inhale of your perfume as he knew he was about to have to pull away. He tried to carve the scent into his lungs, tried to remember it forever… that and the feeling of your hand in his, and the way you leaned a little closer as the last notes faded, like you didn’t want this to end either.

And yet, despite his reluctance, Andrew pulled away as the notes disappeared, vanishing into the heavy air of the room. Slowly, he took a step back, hand leaving yours, leaving the small of your back and the softness of your clothes. He looked at you for a moment, gaze catching yours and remaining hanging in the stillness of a suspended moment. But then the buzzing of the bar was back, and another upbeat song was played, and you moved away…

“Ermmm… I think I’ll take a break from the crowd for a minute.”

Before you could answer or protest, Andrew was striding towards the door, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart and the blushing of his cheeks. The air was cold as it hit his skin, he finally noticed he hadn’t taken his jacket. There was barely anyone around, just a few strangers passing by, a tipsy couple a couple of houses down the lane. Andrew took a few deep breaths, nervously brushing his hair back with a trembling hand.

Damn… what the fuck was that…?

“Andy?”

He jumped at the sound of your voice, and it took him a moment to recover from the sight of you bathed in golden streetlights…

“Yeah?”

“You’re okay?”

“Sure, why? Just… needed a bit of fresh air, that’s all.”

You slowly nodded. And yet, you seemed worried, he asked you why with an inquisitive tilt of his head.

“You… I was worried us dancing together made you feel uncomfortable…”

He gave you a surprised look.

“No, I… I liked it. Dancing with you.”

A little bit of mischief came back to colour your gaze.

“Despite your long limbs?”

Andrew couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“Yeah, despite the unbearably long limbs and how clumsy they make me, yeah…”

“Good… cause then you… kind of awkwardly fled the scene. Suspicious, to say the least.”

“Just… many people at once,” he lied, and you weren’t fooled.

“Says the guy who sings in front of thousands of people at once.”

“It isn’t the same, and you know it.”

You nodded, merely half-convinced.

“Right… so… it’s okay if I stay with you for a minute?”

“Of course.”

“Good, thanks.”

“But… you would have more fun with all the others, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know… I feel like staying with you for a bit.”

His head was spinning again, Andrew reckoned that the alcohol was beginning to seriously kick in. That, and the fact that you should not be allowed to say things like this to him… it was too painful to be rejected after that. After having you acting like he was special to you…

He let out a trembling breath, one that made you frown a little. You tried to give him a smile anyway.

“So… where were we before we got interrupted by Sam and Daphne playing perfect couple?”

“I don’t know… I don’t remember.”

“You were telling me about your bees.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised that you would still be interested in hearing him gush about his bees and the honey they made.

He didn’t say a thing though, his brain was slowing down more and more because of the liquor he had been drinking all night.

“Andy? You’re okay? You look… a little… unstable.”

“Thanks for assessing my sanity…”

“No, I meant… On your feet. You look like you might fall.”

“I’m okay.”

“You did need some fresh air.”

You took a couple of steps closer, until you were close enough to reach up and rest a hand on his upper arm.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Your voice was gentle. And soothing, so fucking soothing… Andrew could not remember hearing anything so soothing in his life…

And you were so beautiful under the streetlights, photons rushing to get caught in your hair and eyelashes and glimmering over your skin. You hadn’t pushed him away during that dance, and sometimes you acted like you longed for his company more than others’… what if Sam and Daphne were right? What if you liked him?

“Andy?”

You were staring up at him with these beautiful eyes of yours, the ones he saw in his sleep, the ones he longed for every single second when he couldn’t see them. Damn… how could someone feel like that for a person they weren’t even in a relationship with. It was crazy, Andrew realised. It was crazy how much he could love you, even if only from afar.

And what if Sam and Daphne were right?

“Are you seeing anyone these days?”

You were clearly taken aback by the question, blinked up at him a couple of times.

“Huh… no? Why?”

“Would you have dinner with me?”

“What?”

“Fuck all this shit…”

“What…?”

But before you could say another word, Andrew was reaching up to hold your face, a touch gentle, just enough to guide you into a kiss but one you could free yourself from easily if you wanted to. Then his lips were on yours, his long eyelashes brushing yours as they closed. And the world disappeared as he finally could touch you the way he had dreamt about for so long. Your lips were as soft as he had dreamt them, your taste as intoxicating as he had imagined… He expected you to push him away, but you didn’t. Instead, you reached up to run your fingers through his hair, and you let him deepen the kiss when his tongue brushed your mouth. You let out a small groan when Andrew took a step forward and pressed your body against the brick wall of the pub. But the kiss slowed down, growing more tender, more loving even. Something too intimate to be shared in a first kiss, and yet, Andrew couldn’t help it. His entire body was burning, he felt feverish, like he was losing his mind, like the whole world had disappeared, or rather… had shrunk down to rest within your arms. And he loved it. He loved it so fucking much… He loved you so fucking much…

He pulled away at long last, out of breath, heart ready to explode, dragging out your lower lip between his as he moved away because he was unwilling to stop. But when he blinked his eyes open, his heart sank.

You were staring up at him with something horrified in your eyes. He took a step back immediately, let go of you, shivering at the loss of contact.

You stared at each other for a moment, bathing in the golden light of an evening in Dublin. Still, both of you unable to move or say anything.

He finally opened his mouth only to be interrupted by Daphne opening the door of the pub and calling both of you back inside for another round of whiskey. You didn’t say a word as you followed her in, and Andrew remained silent as well, holding the door for you before being hit by the warmth of the pub.

Goddamn it… what had he done?

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #series #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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cowgurrrl · 4 months

Text

Keep the Wolves Away

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: Dedicated to my real life Andies. Thank you for making me feel easy to love.

Summary: The worst decision [5.2k]

Warnings: platonic threatening, discussions of bad mental health, so much flirting that (spoiler alert) might be real, possible THE shittiest ex I ever could've written, all the southern pet names, alcohol consumption, the resurgence of an old nude of readers, gaslighty behavior, smoking cigarettes (don't smoke kids), Joel talking reader out of a spiral, two (2) kisses

"So, it's a date." Andie declares once you're done explaining everything to her over FaceTime. You pause your blush application to roll your eyes at her.

"It's not a date!"

"I'm sorry, so I'm just supposed to believe you when you say you're going to be just friends with the hot, sweet single dad who sounds like he's head over heels for you?"

"He is not head over heels for me." You sound a little petulant, and Andie laughs like she did when you were in high school and trying to hide a crush from her.

"Babe, he willingly went on a high school field trip just so he could see you."

"His daughter was there. I'm sure he wanted to spend time with her."

"I'm sure he did because he's a great dad, but he also wanted to see you in your element. It's sexy watching someone do the thing they love."

"Yeah, yeah." You brush her off, and she scoffs. You toss your makeup brush back into its bag and check out your outfit in the mirror. It's nothing insane— just a plain black slip dress— but now that Joel's arrival is getting closer and closer, you're rethinking everything. "Do I look okay?"

"You look stunning!" Andie chirps. "I'm sure your not boyfriend will think the same thing."

"I'm going to get a plane ticket to Austria just so I can choke you out with my own two hands." You threaten, but she laughs so hard you can't stop smiling. Once the trans-Atlantic giggling dies down, the line goes quiet, and you take a deep breath as you pull your mascara out.

"Are you nervous to see him?" She asks gently. Andie came home for the summer dubbed The Dark Days. She stayed over when the one-bedroom apartment felt too big and got you out of the house when you couldn't stand the four walls anymore. She took whatever he left behind to his new apartment so you wouldn't have to (and gave him a piece of her mind while she was at it). She made you believe in love again. Not sticky, frustrating, unpredictable romantic love but pure, easy, all-knowing love that can only come from long-enduring relationships such as yours.

For a long time after he left, you thought you were hard to love. Too loud, too bright, too much. Until you were out at a bar with her one night, trying to find the remnants of your independence and self-esteem tucked under sweaty beers and cracked leather chairs, when someone pointed out how similar you and Andie were. "Like two sides of the same coin," the woman told you. Andie is one of the easiest people in the world to love with her quick wit, creativity, and smile. And you realized for the first time if you had even a shred of that, even if only by dint of knowing and being loved by her, then you must be easy to love too. You must be worth the mess and heartache and stained fingerprints.

So, yeah, Andie was less than pleased to hear that all that hard work could be undone by seeing him again, but she was supportive.

"I don't know," you sigh. "I'm not a kid anymore. I've had more years without him than I did with him, but it's still scary."

"I know."

"I don't even know what I'm gonna say to him."

"He'll probably be too busy with the gallery and everything. Maybe you won't even have to." She says, and you groan at the uncertainty of everything.

"God, why did I say yes?" You ask as a knock interrupts your whining. You end your call with a quick "I love you, thank you, I'll text you" before throwing your phone down. "Come in!" You yell from the bathroom as you rapidly finish doing your makeup. There's a pause on the other side before he jiggles the knob and finally comes in. "I'm just finishing up in the bathroom. Give me a minute."

"D'you always leave your door unlocked?" Joel asks. The sound of his unsure footsteps reaches your ears, and you smile at the thought of him looking around your apartment like a lost toddler.

"Only when I know someone's coming over," you say. "Sorry, it's a mess."

"Oh, this is nothin'. You should see Ellie's room." He says, his feet pacing the floor. You swipe on a cute lipstick you never wear and finally step out into the living room where Joel is waiting. He's wearing a black button-up shirt with nice pants as he stands with his back to you, looking at some of the things on your wall.

"Well, don't you look nice?" You compliment, making him turn around with a shy smile. His eyes roam over you, taking in every detail or sliver of skin he hasn't seen before. His intense gaze reminds you of how he looked at you in the bar when you were sure his eyes would melt you. He looks dumbstruck, and his Adam's apple bobs when his eyes finally settle on your face.

"Wow… you look-"

"Choose carefully." You tease to take some of the tension out of the room.

"Beautiful," he says, thwarting your efforts. "You always look beautiful."

"Thank you. Not so bad yourself."

"You like it? Ellie helped me pick it out," he anxiously fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. "Feels weird."

"What specifically feels weird?" You ask, stepping closer to him to examine his outfit. He smells like aftershave and the cologne he's prone to wearing. Why the fuck do you have his cologne memorized, you think to yourself.

"I dunno. I think I just feel outta place."

"Well, you don't look out of place," you say. "These might be what's doing it, though." You tap the top buttons of his shirt, the ones buttoned all the way up to his chin like a toddler going to Christmas mass.

"Ellie said I should do all of 'em since it's a fancy art thing."

"Well, you should stop taking fashion advice from a fifteen-year-old," you laugh. "I promise it's not fancy enough to justify being uncomfortable."

"I'm takin' your word for it." He says as he reaches up to undo his top two buttons, revealing freckles across his chest and collarbones and the tiniest sliver of a gold chain resting against his throat. For some reason, you can't tear your eyes away from the veins in his neck or the delicate necklace stuck to his warm skin. "What, it really looks that bad?" He thankfully breaks through your thoughts, and you try to recover by shaking your head.

"No, no. Not at all. You look really nice," you say, clearing your throat. "Let me get my purse, and we can go." You don't even wait for him to respond. You just turn on your heels and walk to your bedroom. In the security of your bedroom, you let out a long exhale and try to get your mind back on track.

You're just nervous. He's being nice. You're being nice back. It's nothing. It's nothing. It's nothing, you mentally chant. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you almost have to laugh at the fierce blush on your cheeks and the distracted look in your eyes. "You better get it together." You say, pointing at yourself in the mirror like it's gonna do anything to make tonight smoother.

The gallery is packed when you get there. Joel curses under his breath as he tries to find a parking spot, and you try to keep your anxiety at bay. All you have to do is show your face, look at the paintings, and leave. Maybe you can manage to steal a bottle of the cheap wine they're undoubtedly serving. It'll be an hour. Two tops. You can do this.

You're so in your head that you didn't notice that Joel parked the car or that he was looking at you until he bumped your knee with his.

"You okay?" He asks. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Just need a second." You mumble. You fiddle with your earrings, your dress, anything to keep your hands busy as you psyche yourself up.

"When's the last time you saw this asshole?"

"He wasn't always an asshole," you try to redirect, but he raises his eyebrows at you. "Since I graduated college."

"We don't have to go in." He offers easily, and you give him a look.

"Yes, we do. My name's on the list and everything."

"So?" He shrugs. "The world's not gonna end just cause one person didn't show up."

"But you drove all the way here."

"And I can drive you all the way back. Besides, it's nice having a pretty girl in my truck. It wouldn't hurt to have you here next to me for a little while longer." He says, and you laugh, feeling some weight lift off your shoulders.

"You get many pretty girls sitting in your truck?"

"Just my pretty girls."

"Right." You say, and he smiles, creating familiar crinkles in the corners of his eyes. They look a little deeper in the moonlight, but his eyes shine differently. Your fingers itch to draw them if only to critique your work and find the answer to why he has such an effect on you. You're aware that you're staring, but you also can't find it in yourself to look away. Not when he's staring back at you so fondly.

"What can I do to help you?" He asks. You feel like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice. You've talked to Ellie about her anxiety, so you know he has some practice in dealing with it, but he's acting like it's second nature. Like this is what he was meant to do. He bumps you again when you start messing with your purse. "Do you want this to be like at the bar? Do you want me to take you home and pretend like we were never here? Do you want me to go in there and crack some skulls? You say the word— any word— and I'll do it for you, darlin'."

Darlin’. It's what he called you when you promised revenge for almost kissing you at the bar. Normally, you'd be against any form of pet name. Henry was not openly affectionate in that way, and you learned not to expect it from him. But here's Joel, dropping the term of endearment almost every time he's been alone with you. It could be that cowboy accent or his knee pressed against yours, but the nickname fills your chest with warmth and pushes away your anxiety.

"Any word, huh?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"My mama raised me not to make promises I didn't have every intention of followin' through on." He says. "What'll it be?"

"I think… I just need you to be there with me."

"Then, that's what I'll do."

"Okay." You mumble, and he smiles as a new wave of comfort washes over you.

"Okay." He says.

"Okay." You take a deep breath and look at him in the driver's seat one more time. "Let's do this." Finally, you open the door and step down from his truck. He's quick to come to your side and offer you his arm before he can even finish locking the car. You smile, tuck your hand under his bicep, and let him keep you upright as you walk in.

The gallery is full of people who look way more qualified than you— art critics, journalists, and other artists who can actually sell a piece. They barely glance at you and Joel when you breach the doorway, which you're silently grateful for. When a waiter walks by with champagne glasses, Joel quickly snatches two glasses from the tray and hands you one.

"Here's to us." He says, and you cock an eyebrow at him.

"Us?"

"Well, we're sure as hell not toastin' to that asshole, are we?"

"I guess not," you laugh as you clink your glasses together. "To us." You each take a sip, and Joel tries to hide his reaction to the champagne, but you see right through it. "Not your speed?"

"Not at all." He groans as he chokes it down.

"Don't worry, maverick, we'll get you something else later." You promise and tuck your hand back under his arm as you start walking through the gallery.

A lot of his newer work resembles his work from college— normal portraits of things like fruits, beds, or people but with unexpected lines of colors lining them like they're vibrating. You even recognize some from your college days. You just never expected them to actually be displayed in this way, not even when you were dating and telling him what a good artist you thought he was. Some have vague titles like "$12" and "Jack," while others are untitled. You can see why it would get taken in by a gallery. There's a very clear skill in how he paints and manipulates everyday objects into something new. It would be impressive if it was interesting.

Maybe you're just used to the way he paints. Maybe this is exactly what you expected of him. Maybe you thought he would've grown, if not in attitude than, at least, in skill. But it's clear that too many people told him good things about his work, and he saw nothing he needed to change or fix. Somehow, it makes you feel better, not worse, about your own art.

"So, are these supposed to be good or bad?" Joel whispers to you as you get closer to the next section, and you laugh a little too loudly. The people around you give you nasty looks, but you can't find it in yourself to be sorry.

"Like I said at the museum, I can't tell you that, but…" you glance around to make sure nobody's listening to you. "As someone who saw him make a lot of art, this is definitely not his best."

"Okay, that's what I thought," he says before pointing at a specific part of the painting. "The shape is really weird right there, like he ran outta space or somethin'." You let go of his arm and step between him and the painting, smiling knowingly.

"Did you study for this?" You ask, and he nervously plays with the chain around his neck.

"I may have… snuck a look at Ellie's notes." He admits sheepishly, and your eyes widen.

"You were actin' like you were gonna have to rely on me this whole time! You don't need me to tell you what good art is!"

"Yeah, but I want you to."

"Oh, whatever. C'mon, I wanna hear what else you think." You pretty much drag him to the next section of the gallery, but he's pliant and almost giddy at your hold on him. You take more time in the next part, and he ducks so his lips are near your ear to point out little things he notices. He said he was scared of being wrong in front of people "smarter than him," but all the observations he makes are valid and accurate. He lets you add your own analysis to his and watches you with a smile when you start talking with your hands excitedly. Suddenly, you're not nearly as miserable as you thought you would be, and you're even laughing together as you jump from painting to painting.

"See, this isn't so bad!" You say as you move to the final part, but your smile and enthusiasm die when you step over the threshold. There, staring at you unashamedly is the painting Henry did of you when you were twenty and topless. He told you it was for his own artistic development, and you were more than happy to do it for him. You just never thought he would've kept it after all these years. Thank God your face isn't visible in the painting, but your rigid posture tells Joel everything he needs to know. He politely turns his back to the painting and steps between you and your likeness.

"You wanna go?" He whispers at the same time someone calls your name. You take a deep breath and grab Joel's hand for support as you turn around and face Henry. His wavy blonde hair frames his face like it did in college but he's matured. His beard is a little more filled in, and he's gotten a little broader. Other than that, he's still the same person you met freshman year.

"I'm so glad you could make it!" He says as he approaches. He doesn't try to hug you, and you don't move to let go of Joel's hand. "You look great. I mean, you always looked great, but you know what I meant," he says, looking over you. Only when Joel clears his throat does Henry even look at him. "Oh, sorry, man! We're old friends. I'm Henry." He holds his hand out for Joel to meet halfway, but he doesn't. You think it probably took fighting every single bit of southern hospitality in his veins to stop himself from shaking Henry's hand.

"'M Joel." He says, and Henry awkwardly drops his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Joel. How are you enjoying the exhibition?"

"'S alright." Is all Joel offers, not willing to gas up Henry's ego anymore, and you have to stifle a laugh at the expectant look on Henry's face. "Well, I think we were just goin'."

"Oh, so soon? You haven't even seen the last few pieces."

"Are those any better than the thirty identical ones I already saw?"

"Joel," you scold quietly, and his jaw flexes when you look at him.

"It's okay. Not everyone understands art enough to enjoy it." Henry says.

"Oh, I understand everythin' just fine." You swear Joel would've punched him if he wasn't holding your hand so tight. You step in between them and raise your eyebrows at Joel. His shoulders are squared, and you can feel the molten anger rolling off him, but it softens just a bit when he meets your eyes. You squeeze him twice to let him know you're okay, and he nods.

"Can you get me a refill on champagne? I think they're still walkin' around with some." You suggest. He gets the hint, but he obviously doesn't like it. He glances between you and Henry like he's trying to make a decision but folds when you mouth, "please," at him.

"’Course," he says through gritted teeth. "Anythin' else I can get for you, baby?" Baby, that's a new one, you think.

"No, I'm alright. Thanks, though." You say. Without thinking, you let your other hand rest on his jaw and kiss Joel's cheek. His jaw unclenches when your fingertips graze his stubble, and his shoulders relax when your lips make contact with his skin, but you know he's still upset because you're still upset. Joel smiles and walks away before you can get a good look at the blush creeping up his neck, and you're resigned to watching him disappear into the crowd.

"He seems nice," Henry says the second Joel is out of earshot, and you have to resist the urge to laugh.

"He is."

"How'd you two meet?"

"Through work." You say, knowing that bringing up teaching will make his skin crawl. He sucks his teeth and nods, the champagne in his glass sloshing slightly.

"Ah," he says. "That's nice."

"Yeah," you agree. An awkward silence falls over the two of you quickly, and you're itching to find Joel in the sea of people. Henry notices your lack of attention on him.

"It's really good to see you," he says. "I feel like I haven't talked to you in forever."

"Yeah, that's usually what happens when you leave someone."

"That's kinda why I invited you here tonight. I wanted to apologize for the way things ended," he acts brokenhearted and torn up about it, but he's years too late for the pity party he's expecting. "I should've talked to you about what was going on. We were just... becoming so different, and it felt like you were always talking to Andie or other people in the program, and there was no way to reach you."

"What are you talking about? I asked you multiple times if we were okay, and you said yes every time. I was talking to Andie so much because I needed someone who would understand me and be able to help." You say, and he waves his hand like he's swatting flies.

"Let's not do this. My therapist says it's not healthy to rehash the past like this. I just wanted to make amends and let you know I'm sorry for how you felt." It's not an apology. Not a real one, anyway. Jesus Christ, what did you ever see in him? Before you can even open your mouth to say something, he gestures to the gallery. "So, what do you think about all this? Crazy, right?"

"It's... something," you say. "Wish you would've given me a heads up about that one before I brought someone with me." You point in the direction of your half-naked body on the wall, and he gives you a confused look.

"I thought I did in the email."

"Nope, I think I would've remembered if you said something about a half-naked painting of me from college being displayed," you shake your head. "Why do you even still have that? I thought you would've thrown it away or painted over it or something."

"Why would I do that? It's a good piece."

"I know it's good because it's my body. What's weird is you leaving me without a word one day and then keeping a naked picture of me all these years."

"I didn't even think of it as your body. After a while, it was just a body," he says with no remorse, and you think you might hit him yourself. "Besides, you should take this as a compliment. Not many women get the opportunity to be depicted as art. It's a wonderful thing. You might even thank me one day when you're older." Finally, you see Joel walking toward you with a glass of champagne, and you take refuge in the fact that he's returning for you. "But, from what I can see, they've definitely stayed the same, so you probably don't have anything to worry about." He says like it's a secret or a compliment. You don't even wait for Joel to say or do anything. You just grab the wine from him and throw it in Henry's face. The people in the immediate vicinity gasp as you slap him and shove the empty glass into his hands.

"Out of all the stupid things I imagined for myself when I was younger, thinking I would marry you was the stupidest," you spit. "Don't you ever try to fucking contact me again."

You feel like a fucking idiot. What did you expect? An apology? Repentance? Regret? He barely apologized when you were together. Why would he start now? God, was he always that bad? How could you have been so blind? How could you have shed so many tears over him? How could you have let yourself be so vulnerable with him and for so many years? It's a miracle he didn't call the cops and try to get the two of you arrested, even though Joel didn't do anything. You think, at least. The second you finished your sentence, you ran to the bathroom to cry and then snuck out through the back to wait outside Joel's truck. For all you know, Joel (rightfully) beat his ass and is on the run from artsy Austin hipsters.

You put the lit cigarette back in your mouth and take a long drag, the familiar burning in your lungs a sick relief. You quit during The Dark Days because smoking was something he did, and you wanted to rid yourself of any reminder of his impact on your life. Apparently, at the same time you were scrubbing his fingerprints from your bones, he was in possession of and doing God knows what with the visual reminder of your vulnerability and love-sickness and acted like it was nothing. Like it was a compliment. Like it was just an object instead of your body. Andie would be pissed if she were here but especially if she saw you smoking after she braved all those shaky days and nights of nicotine patches and dried fruit and whatever other remedy recommended to help you quit smoking. You half-expect the same anger when you see Joel walking toward you.

"Before you even start, I know I shouldn't, okay? It's a bad habit from when I was a kid, and I've mostly kicked it. I just... had a lapse. I'll be back on my best behavior tomorrow," you say as he stops in front of you. He doesn't look angry or upset. He just looks concerned and maybe even a little sad. Suddenly, you regret running away from him when all he probably wanted to do was help. You probably wouldn't have bummed a cigarette from a busboy if you let him. "Don't tell Ellie." You plead. His eyes flick over your face before he takes the cigarette from your fingers, puts the lipstick-stained filter in his own mouth, and inhales deeply, making the ember glow in the dark of the night. When he exhales, he blows the smoke away from you and lets the wind carry it in the opposite direction. A considerate smoker. You should've guessed.

"Don't tell Ellie," he says, handing the cigarette back to you. "Are you okay?"

You shake your head and take a long drag. It's quiet between you two for a while, the only sound being the cicadas and the distant chatter of the gallery. They're probably still talking about the psycho bitch who threw her wine in the artist's face. You don't really care. "I'm sorry for tonight. I don't know what I was expecting, and I sure as shit didn't know that painting was gonna be displayed. I swear, if I had any idea how bad this was gonna be, I wouldn't have invited you."

"Why are you apologizin'? It's not your fault."

"I shouldn't have roped you into this. I should've just said no, ignored the email, or came by myself. It's not fair that you got put in the middle of all this, especially when you were just trying to be nice. You're the parent of one of my students, and for you to see that side of me is just inappropriate. I just-" he stops your rambling by putting his hands on your shoulders and making you look at him, the cigarette falling to the pavement in the process.

"Hey, hey. Stop. Take a breath." He says. Your head hurts from crying, and part of you wants to crawl into a hole and stay there until these feelings go away, but his eyes are gentle, and his hands are warm. You think he might be the only reason you're holding it together right now. "None of this is your fault, okay? Not the painting, not the conversation, none of it. We're both adults, and we can handle these things rationally. I'm not scarred for life just 'cause you lost your temper."

"But I-"

"No, buts. You told me the situation, and I didn't care. You warned me bout the art people, and I didn't care. You threw a drink in that asshole's face, and I didn't care," he says. "The only thing I care bout right now is makin' sure you're okay. Fuck everythin' else." You search his face for anything to tell you what he's telling you is going against his inner monologue but find none. He's completely and wholly concerned about you and nothing else. Not how fast he can get out of this. Not how this might look. Not what other people might think about him. Nothing. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Fuck everything else." You agree.

"Now, you're gettin' the hang of it." He jokes, and you roll your eyes at him. He takes it in stride, his smile never fading as he looks down at you. You stop messing with the hem of your dress and let yourself relax for the first time all night.

"Thank you for being here, Joel. I really appreciate it."

"Not our best not-date, but definitely a memorable one." He says, and you laugh. You seem to realize how close you are at the same time because you both fall silent. His curls are beautifully draped over his face, and you can't stop watching his tiny expressions. An eye squint. A purse of the lips. A bite to the inside of his cheek. You want to blame your bad night or the emotions, but you can't. There's something more there. Something that's been brewing beneath the surface since he came into your classroom. Something that will kill you if you don't act on it.

You let your hands come up from your sides and tentatively brush against his waist as you stare at him, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just stares down at your lips, and the hands on your shoulders slowly move across your skin and up your collarbone— leaving goosebumps in his wake— until his hands are on your jaw and your pulse is thrumming against his palm. You pull him closer by his belt loops, and he doesn't hesitate to crowd your space, pushing you into the side of his truck with his body. His lips ghost over yours, just barely touching, and his nose bumps yours.

"This is a bad idea," you breathe, tightening your hold on him. He nods and presses his forehead against yours. He's still close enough to breathe the same air as him, but the distance feels like miles. You lean forward a fraction as a test, and he doesn't move. If anything, he seems annoyed you didn't kiss him.

"D'you want to stop?" He asks, sounding just as breathless as you feel. You shake your head and swallow hard when he brushes the hair off your shoulder, and you can feel his heavy hand holding you. Your hands skate over his ribs, feeling muscles and a crazed heartbeat, and his jaw clenches. "Then you better do somethin' cause you've been drivin' me fuckin' crazy for weeks."

Finally, you catch his lips with yours. He tastes like nicotine and smoke, and you know it's going to take a lot more than patches to get you to want to stop doing this. It's gentle and sweet, all relieved sighs and shy touches until you pull away for just a second to second-guess yourself or ask him something. You don't even start to form the words before he's back on you with more fervor. Suddenly, it's like he's everywhere but not nearly close enough. He nibbles at your bottom lip and tests a hand on your sternum, long fingers grazing your throat. The metal of the truck digs into your back, but you stop caring when a little moan slips from his lips when you pull him closer.

This is a bad idea. A horrible one. A bad habit you're gonna need to kick.

But he might just be your favorite bad idea so far.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk

#hippies and cowboys #joel miller au #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel tlou #the last of us au #tlou au #joel miller tlou #the last of us fic #the last of us x reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us fluff #joel miller fluff #i fucking love this

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jordanelemus · 2 months

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ybc musical costume in-depth analysis! 💥🎸🎱

hi! I'm jordan, the costume designer (and also an actor and co-writer) of "the young blood chronicles" musical! i posted this on instagram, but i thought it might be cool to post it here too!

my initial role in “the young blood chronicles” musical was costume design, which, as a fashion enthusiast, i was incredibly excited about. i spent about a month curating a huge pinterest board collection and creating individual moodboards. the show takes place in 2013, but i wanted to take inspiration from both pre and post-hiatus fall out boy looks! here’s an in-depth look :’)

patrick’s main inspo was his “soul punk” era, which lives distinctly in the hiatus. i wanted something that would remind us that years had passed since the last time the band had made music together; something cool and trendy, but a little too dressed up for a long day in the studio. even when not onstage, ybc patrick is performing. clothes can give you power and he knows that. the yellow sunglasses were our way of getting around patrick’s glowing yellow eyes from the music videos, but i really love how it makes it seem like he has a mask on. it makes the end of “miss missing you” even more heartbreaking.

pete’s main inspo came from both his early clandestine drops as well as his more androgynous looks (both pre & post-hiatus). pete really cares about fashion, but he still has a chill la vibe. 2013 pete could often veer more edgy, but i chose to move in a different direction in order to better distinguish pete and patrick’s styles. unless you’re a vixen or patrick, you don’t get a leather jacket! sorry pete! to me, pete’s fashion has always felt so current while still being forward-thinking. ybc pete’s outfit could be from 2006 or 2024 and that was very purposeful!

andy’s looks are mostly pulled from more recent years, but band tees never go out of style. the mesh top under the tee alludes to his tattoos, which make up the extent of his stage looks these days since he typically does shows without a shirt on. celia had this mesh top in her closet and i love the colors on her (it’s the only source of color in the heaven outfits!). andy’s outfit is maybe the simplest of the four on paper, but i think it’s sick. it’s laid back, but super specific and grounded. it makes me want to start wearing basketball shorts.

joe’s looks are pulled from both pre-hiatus and early post-hiatus looks! striped sweaters & cargo pants are things he’s worn before, so i'm lucky i had them in my closet (especially since i wasn’t originally joe!). joe, especially in recent years, really likes wearing dark colors onstage, but, similar to how i avoided leather jackets for pete, i wanted to very clearly differentiate the boys from the vixens. any black piece of clothing on any of the boys had to be broken up with a design or pattern. no all black outfits! sorry joe!

the goal with the heaven outfits was to make the exact same outfits in all white. i wanted the exact same silhouettes as before. i’d say we were pretty successful! we got really lucky when it came to finding these costume pieces.

my vixens! these costumes were a lot more nebulous throughout the process. many of the costume pieces came from the actors’ own wardrobes. it was really important to me that each vixen had her own distinct style. baylee’s vixen (whom she named blair) has a more feminine style, her main costume piece being a lacy leotard. she's sweet with an edge. ava’s vixen is second-in-command & her outfit really screams that. the lingerie top is so killer. alexa’s vixen is almost a mix of baylee’s & ava’s in terms of style. the outfit is sweet, but edgy with the ripped tights & lingerie-style top. lauren’s vixen is a little more utilitarian, actually dressed in a way that makes sense for kidnapping four people. she’s more sporty than the others, but her combat boots are incredibly threatening. hbic is all that and more. her outfit is simple, but powerful. she is terrifying.

tiffany had to feel a bit like an outsider. she’s wearing the vixen clothes, but her jacket has some color on it. it’s a little too big on her. the other vixens really live in & embody their clothes, but for tiffany, it's a bit more like a costume.

here’s how i describe the angels: 1) the hottest girls at the ren faire & 2) like that picture of the angel guiding the two kids that every latine family has in their house. they almost feel out of place; so incredibly fluid in a show that is mostly made up of harsh lines. texture and layers were really the name of the game here, but the angels still have an edge to them. to quote fob: “…angels choking on their halos, get them drunk on rose water. see how dirty i can get them, pullin' out their fragile teeth & clip their tiny wings.”

+ i made pete’s bass machete and tiffany’s/joe’s guitar axe! i don’t have much to say about them, but i loved getting to utilize my cosplay foam skills.

this was my first time ever costuming a show and it was such a dream. the entire cast was so willing to experiment with me and it was such a joy to revisit aspects of 2013 fashion, which i remember from my preteen years, but never got to truly participate in! :’)

- jordan <3

ig: @/jordanelemus

photos: @/cararittner on ig!

#ybc musical #young blood chronicles #fall out boy #save rock and roll #musicals #musical theater #patrick stump #pete wentz #andy hurley #joe trohman #i love fall out boy literally so much #ybc #costume design #theatre #fob

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

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Unexpected 50

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your promise to Lloyd is empty. You have no great urge to see Andy again. You’re embarrassed at the thought. Even a bit guilty as you accept that any sliver of excitement he brought to you has flown away. The return of your husband drags you back down to earth in the most desolating way.

You swipe away another notification. You don’t know how to reply to Andy. It doesn’t seem right to tell him over a text. Still, you can’t bring yourself to face him. Your last two conversations haven’t been exactly productive. How many times can you tell him this was never meant to be anything more than sex?

That’s when you feel rotten. You used him the same way you’ve been used. Just a release, a thing to make you feel better about yourself. Worse, he’s a widower. He’s lost so much already and now you’re toying with him. That’s hardly fair.

You sit with Luna on the floor. Getting down there was hard enough and you don’t want to ponder how you’ll get back up. She lays on her mat, raising her head to look around. She’s still needy but you see her changing. Maybe she sees the same in you with how she stares at you.

There’s a knock at the door. You brace yourself. You already know it isn’t Lloyd, he would just barge in. You know he hasn’t changed at all. Luna’s head bobbles as she tries to look around and you call for whoever it is to enter.

“Hey, we goin’ on that walk?” Harlen asks as he enters, already half-dressed for the dipping temperature. You notice the metallic red thermos in his hand, “I was hopin’ to get out.” He present the capped container, “got us some hot chocolate even.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” you make yourself smile, “yeah, that might be a good idea.”

“Here, let me help,” he sets the thermos down and crosses the room, offering his hand to haul you up.

“Go on, get ready,” he bids as he grunts, bending to pick up Luna from the floor, “oh, she gettin’ heavy.” He stands straight, “I need the workout anyhow.”

“I have a suit for her. Thermal,” you explain as you search the dresser against the nursery wall. The last few nights you’ve spent sleeping in the glider chair, your own fortress in a castle not your own.

“You let me worry about that,” he nears, rocking Luna in one arm as he takes the insulated outfit from you, “go get something warm on. You gotta take care of you too.”

You look at him. You nod. He’s the only man you can’t bring yourself to argue with, maybe because he’s the only one who’s ever really cared. You love that about him but it makes you think of your own dad and how he would rather his flask than to spend a single birthday with you.

“Right,” you surrender, “I won’t be long.”

You leave the nursery and head down to the guest room. The door is already unclasped but you don’t think much of it until you enter. You find Lloyd sat on the foot of the bed with the little crescent moon toy Luna likes so much. His eyes flick up as you sigh.

You ignore him and go to the closet. You take out an old sweatshirt and dig out some jeans from a drawer. You feel him watching you. You hear him get up and come closer as you take out a pair of wool socks.

“Gonna be Christmas soon enough…” he says.

“Oh shut up,” you snarl.

It’s his turn to sigh. He angles around to stand beside you, facing you, and puts the toy on the dresser. You walk away from him and he follows you towards the bathroom door. The very idea of him seeing how he ravaged your body, the stretchmarks and the loose skin, repulses you. You won’t give him that victory.

As you try to close the door in his face, he forces his foot between it and the frame, “you have to talk to me eventually. She’s my daughter. I have a legal right–”

“Why did you come back? I know it’s not because of her,” you lean on the door. He’s just as strong as ever. If he really wanted to, he could overpower you.

“You,” he says. “I was always going to come back–”

“No, no, no. Lloyd, enough lies. It’s over. You know that. Whatever made you want me, I’m not it anymore. So whoever you were out fucking, go back to them. You won’t get anything from me.”

“I didn’t–”

“Fuck. Off.”

You stomp his toe and he recoils. You take the opportunity to slam the door and flip the lock into place. You keep your hand on the door and catch your breath. You hear him on the other side, lingering, the friction of his touch dragging down the other side.

“Peaches…” he says.

You scoff and push away. You go to the counter and put down the armful of clothes. You look at yourself in the mirror. You don’t even feel bad for yourself, you feel worse that Luna has to call someone like him a father.

🍑

You meet Harlan downstairs. He has Luna bundled up and helps you get her strapped into the baby carrier that hooks over your shoulders. It’s much easier than the stroller, if not a bit of a strain on your back.

He tucks the thermos into the large pocket of his coat and opens the door for you. He trails you outside into the brisk air of late autumn. The chill nips at your cheeks and nose as you adjust Luna’s hood to make sure she’s cozy.

“Thanksgiving soon. Dot was talkin’ bout it,” he says as you walk down the long driveway, “she talkin’ a lot lately. Driving me a bit crazy.”

“Oh,” you raise your brows dully. You haven’t said much to her. You resent her for all those weeks of sticking up for her son and her tune hasn’t changed, “yeah, maybe… get a turkey.”

“Ha, come on, what are we gon’ do? Sit down for a family dinner? She just wants peace but she won’t acknowledge the battle,” he puffs as he takes out the thermos and untwists the cap. “Here?”

He offers you a drink first. You stop awkwardly to sip from the brim and thank him. He takes a gulp of his own and hums.

“Not too bad,” he comments, “was of a mind to add some whiskey but we’ll save that for later.”

You chuckle and shake your head. You set off down the sidewalk, keeping a hand on the bottom of the carrier as you make slow progress. It’s the sort of cold that wakes you up. It reminds you of the day you met Lloyd and you scowl. A year. More than.

As you come to the end of the street, someone turns the corner. You don’t pretend to be surprised as Andy approaches. He wears a navy cap, his hair poking out from the hem, and his cheeks are rosy above his thick beard. He smiles as he nears, even as his eye twitches.

“Morning,” he greets brightly, “how’s little Luna?”

You slow as he glances at the baby in her harness. You sway with her as she babbles.

“She’s good,” you answer as Harlan clears his throat. You sniff as you try to roll the tension out of your shoulders, “oh, Andy, this is my… dad, Harlan. Harlan, Andy. The neighbour.”

“Sir,” Andy smiles and offers his hand, “nice to meet you. You must be so proud of your daughter. And granddaughter. A beautiful pair, huh?”

“Beaming,” Harlan shakes his hand gruffly, “couldn’t ask for anything better.”

“Well, uh, I was actually gonna pop in. I found some more baby stuff and thought maybe you could use it,” Andy rescinds his hand, tucking it in his jacket pocket. “I could watch Luna if you want. Give you some time off.”

“Oh, Andy, that’s sweet but… I got all the help I need,” you peek over at Harlan. “I appreciate everything but I hate to take advantage of your kindness.”

“It’s no problem. Really. I don’t mind,” Andy insists, only girding himself as his eyes flit to Harlan and he squares his shoulder, “just putting it out there.”

“I’ll… I’ll keep you in mind,” you utter awkwardly.

Harlan’s silent. You don’t have the courage to look at him. You can feel the tension radiating off of him. He’s shielded in that cool stoicism that once made you feel so small.

“Well, you know my number,” Andy shrugs, “I’m sure you can figure out how to reply to my texts,” he steps forward, gazing at Luna as he coos, surprising you as he bends to kiss the top of her head, “buh bye, Luna.” He grins, his eyes meeting yours as he stands at his full height, “pretty, just like mommy.” He nods and looks past you to Harlan, “try to stay warm out here.”

Andy struts past as you step aside. You hesitate before you continue on, quiet as Harlan lets a hum roll up his throat. He clucks and cranes to peer over his shoulder.

“That’s him?” He asks. You can only nod, staring down in shame. “Ah, well… you keep space from him… for yourself. Man’s got something ‘bout him…. Something off.”

“I… I’ve been ignoring him so…”

“No, no,” Harlan intones, “no, ain’t nothing ‘bout you.”

You stroll on, the uneasiness in his timbre crawling over you in goosebumps. You look down at Luna and run your hand up the back of the carrier, embracing her a little closer. Andy could be a little overbearing but he’s harmless, right?

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #andy barber #andy barber x reader #drabble #series #unexpected #au #the gray man #defending jacob

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josephquinnswhore · 1 year

Note

hello hello hello!! i hope you're having a wonderful day my dearest 💛

i have a dad pedro x pregnant wife reader request if you're taking them?

could you do where like reader is like almost ready to pop with their third child and their first maybe around 8 years old and their second is around 6 years old and reader and pedro finally agree on getting a house and they go house hunting. i'm a big sucker for imaging how it would be to have a family with this man and doing stuff like this with him.

pure fluff and happiness bc my depressed ass needs some happiness 💛💛

-much love my darling 💛💛

Settling In - pedro pascal x female reader

Summary: you and Pedro are hunting for your dream home before your third bundle of joy arrives.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: pregnancy, mentions of blood, bodily fluids, birth (not detailed.)

Note: I’m sorry this is short I’m sick and my brain hurts lol. Anyways I hope you love this, thank you so much for requesting!!

The grunt that leaves your lips as you roll around on the bed is involuntary, trying to escape the warmth urgently as your baby sits on your bladder, putting more pressure for you to get to the toilet. You ignore the pains in your body as you stand, waddling to the toilet just in time to not lose your bladder on the bathroom tiles.

You thoroughly wash your hands and wipe them on your fleecy pyjamas. A delicious smell wafts from down the hall, your mouth watering with saliva as your stomach grumbles with want. Your steps are heavy as you tread down the hallway, your body slightly rocking side to side as you waddle, your heavily pregnant stomach taking its toll on every inch of your body. Your eldest daughter Maria comes running toward you first, “morning mama, dads making us breakfast. Your favourite too.” You play with her hair as she hugs you, pushing a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. “Oh did he? Isn’t that sweet.” She rushes to her spot at the table, screeching her chair as she waits patiently for her food. Your second daughter, Andie stays seated, you press a kiss to the top of her head as she swings her legs under the table as she groans in frustration, tired of waiting for her food. “Good morning baby.” She huffs, finally looking at you as Pedro comes over with plates full of food for the girls. “Hi mama.” Pedro serves the girls their food, not wanting to keeping them waiting a minute longer. He sets the rest of the food down for the two of you, stalking towards you with a grin on his face. “What’s got you in a good mood this morning?” You question with mock suspicion. “Can’t I just be happy to see my beautiful wife?” Your cheeks heat at his comment, rolling your eyes as you lean into him. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.” He pulls away from the hug, pulling your designated seat away from the table so you can sit. As he sits you fill your plate of your favourite breakfast foods and some fresh fruit. “I do have good news to share baby, you got me.” He throws his hands up and you smile, watching him In encouragement to continue, “I think we’ve found a house. We can go and look today if you’re up for it. Make sure it’s everything you’ve dreamed of.” Your tears start filling with tears, hormones flowing through your body like a tidal wave. “Baby that’s incredible.” His grin widens, “the appointment is for 10:30 this morning. Once the girls are done eating I’ll get them ready, you sit and enjoy your breakfast.”

After 10 long minutes of ruffling through your wardrobe you finally find an outfit that you like, it accentuates your bump beautifully, matching your skin tone. You slip on a pair of vans, not bothering to be too formal today, thinking more about your comfort.

“You look incredible, do you know what?” You giggle and hide your face in your hands, after 10 years of being with Pedro he still had a way of making you feel like a teenager with a crush, “you only tell me a hundred times a day.” Pedro huffs shaking his head, “that’s not enough, make sure to scold me next time.” He jests. “The girls are strapped into the car, you ready to go?” You pat your pockets, phone, wallet, keys. “Good to go.” You confirm.

You try not to laugh as you see the girls dressed in mixed matched clothing, Pedro was never one for caring about kids dressing in super expensive clothing, nor did he care how they dress, he let them dress themselves most days unless it was ridiculously outrageous. Pedro opens the passenger door to his Audi for you, letting you hold his hand as you lower yourself into the leather seat. He presses a kiss to your hand before he shuts the door.

You had seen the house online, no price listed which you would assume means one thing; it’s expensive. The neighbourhood was filled with extravagant houses and perfectly mowed front yards, some with picket fences and gardens full of colourful flourishing flowers. The house had a sign out the front “for sale” in bold orange letters. It took your breath away momentarily, “holy shit.” Pedro only smiled as you watch in awe as he helps the girls out of their seats, opening the doors for them. “Wait here while I help mama out of the car, okay? Stay here.” The girls agreed in a unison of, “okay papa.” Pedro helps you out of the car, holding his hand above your head to make sure you don’t bump it on the door frame. A grunt leaves your lips as you stretch your spine, cracking in a few places before it settles again, earning a big kick from your baby.

“What a beautiful family we have here! You must be,” she checks her notepad for appointments, “Mr Pascal. Pleasure to meet you, I’m Donna.” Pedro nods his head, “this is my wife and our two daughters, Maria and Andie.” The middle age lady greets your daughters kindly, “hi Donna.” Your daughters greet, the ladies short blonde hair rested on the shoulder of her suit jacket. “Hi girls. Why don’t we get started and go inside and I can show you around!” “Perfect!” You cheer. As you walk through the front door you’re in the kitchen, the white granite bench accentuates the kitchen countertop. The kitchen was modern, stylish lights hanging from the ceiling illuminating a bright yellow light. “This kitchen was renovated by the last owners, first of many bonuses that come with the house!” You look around in awe, trying to take in the minute details and imagining yourself cooking meals for Pedro and the kids in this kitchen, smiling to yourself at the thought. “Now just around the corner we have the living room, a spacious area for your beautiful family! A fireplace was also added by previous owners, the perfect addition for the upcoming winter!” The lounge room was fully furnished, the room accentuated with light grey and whites. An artwork catches your eye on the wall, a familiar work “CENTREFOLD” by Kathryn Macnaughton. “The last owner had good taste in art.” Donna laughs, “the last owner painted this artwork.” You turn to her as your mouth gapes open, “wow, that’s incredible.”

The bedrooms are spacious, enough for the girls to have their own and baby when they get old enough. The mast bedroom is huge, the California King Bed sits proudly on its black bedframe, the room furnished and you wonder if it comes with the house. “Does the house come furnished?” Donna smiles widely as she shows you the ensuite bathroom. “It does come fully furnished! You can always discard of or replace the furniture if it’s not to your liking.” You and Pedro share a look “no, it’s perfect, you insist, inspecting the shower, already imagining you and Pedro showering your newborn together.

“Why don’t you go and show the girls the garden out back sweetheart?” The girls cheered at Pedro’s suggestion, “sure,” you gestured the girls out the back, “let’s go and have a look at the pretty flowers outside. See if we can find any butterflies.” The two girls take one hand each and drag you out the door which makes Pedro laugh. It’s beautiful outside, it’s cooling down through the day in transition for winter. The flowers are big and bold, full of nectar which attracts bumblebees and butterflies.

“Look mama a big butterfly!” Your eyes follow Andie’s finger, eyes finding the blue Monarch butterfly that lands on a yellow flower, sucking the nectar and fluttering away all in a matter of seconds. “Look he’s got friends!” Maria yells, running to chase the butterflies that wonder over the fence. “Aw they’re gone.” Maria sighs with disappointment in her voice, “it’s okay baby. We’ll see lots of butterflies if daddy wants this house.” Your hand rests on her head, running your fingers down her dark locks. “Are we going to live her mama?” You shrug, “it’s not up to me baby.”

“Actually, it’s entirely up to you. How do you like it?” Pedro’s voice makes you turn around, a small smile on your face as you see his red cheeks. “I love it baby. It just looks.. expensive.” Pedro frowns, the wrinkles in his face are deepening at his expression. His hand rests on your pregnant stomach, “this is for us, our family. If you want is, it’s ours.” You wipe the tears that collect on your lash line with a laugh, “making me emotional Pedrito. Yes I would love it here, the girls are having so much fun.” The sound of the girls laughter fills the air, the birds singing their songs accompany them. “I was hoping you would say that, because I already bought the house.” Pedro admits sheepishly. You wrap your arms around his neck, your bulging stomach creating a space between you, stopping you from being completely into him. “It’s perfect Pedro, I can’t wait for our baby to be here with us.” He kisses your lips sweetly, “I can’t wait for him to be here either.” You raise your eyebrows, “him?” He shrugs casually, “just got a feeling.”

“It’s a boy!” The midwife declares. Tears are falling down your cheeks as sobs fall through your lips, the small infant is placed on your chest, a beanie on his head and skin still coated in blood and fluid. His loud wailing cries settle as you wrap your arms around him, kissing him on the head. “You’re so perfect.” Pedro is kissing the skin of your sweaty shoulders as the midwife’s clean you up. “Oscar Jose Pascal. Welcome to the world.” Pedro is crying and you wrap him in a blanket, “do you want to hold him?” Pedro’s eyes are red from crying, “please, baby, please.” Pedro was shaking, you sit him down on the chair besides the bed, “take your shirt off, he needs skin to skin contact.” Pedro follows your instruction, holding his son to his chest, learning his head into Oscar’s. “God he’s so perfect. You did incredible baby, I’m so proud of you.” You place your hand on his thigh, rubbing it lovingly, “I can’t wait to get him home. The girls are gonna love him.” Pedro only hums in agreement as he intently listens to his soon coo at his touch. Your family was complete.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro x fem reader #husband Pedro pascal #dad Pedro pascal #fluff #pedro pascal fic

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manias-wordcount · 5 months

Note

I hope you are doing good! And if requests are open might i request some hc of dabi, bakugo, and spike spiegel (its first boyfriend requester again sorry ;w;) reacting to reader who dresses up like them for halloween (or for spike reader dresses like cowboy andy hahaha)

Dressing Up Like Him HCs (Katsuki Bakugo, Dabi, Spike Spiegel)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast @asuperconfusedgirl @rendartgrimson

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

He’s gonna think you’re sooo cute lmaoo

He’ll tell you that too but only once or twice - he doesn't want it to get to your head

Chances are you’re probably wearing his clothes and string bean here long as fuck so it’s likely too big for you in certain ways

But he really likes the look of you in one of his shirts and his jackets (You look ridiculous in his pants because of just how ill-fitted they are on you but that’s beside the point)

The only thing that really throws him off is seeing the staples and skin graft scars on you

It’s a crude emulation of his actual skin grafts made from makeup and face paint, but it served as a weird and startling reminder of just how fragile you compared to him

The pain he suffered as a result of his own flames was hard enough but the idea of going through the same pain and process as him? No thanks

So in the end, he’s gonna think you look cute and will definitely let you borrow one of his jackets anytime you ask because he likes how you look in them

But don’t show him what you’d look like when you’re hurt okay?

Because who knows what he’d do if he saw you hurt like that for real

Katsuki Bakugo

Even since his debut, Halloween costumes of his hero costume have been pretty hard to come by

So you were pretty lucky to be able to snag a more feminine-looking costume a couple of years after his debut

It wasn’t the greatest material and there were definitely some details that they just didn’t get right (And you know he’d have something to say about the costume creators once he finds out later)

But seeing his face when you showed him the costume was more than enough for you to be satisfied

So naturally, he’s going to be super cocky and like grinning ear to ear like a complete dumbass

Like seeing his SO dress up exactly like him in a cuter version of his costume is really gonna make him happy because that ego is still a little unchecked

But he’s also gonna feel extremely proud

He knew of the existence of the halloween costumes and he knew he had fans

But something about seeing the person he loves most dressing up like him in a show of admiration and affection is probably gonna make him feel all soft and squishy and sweet on the inside

Not that he’d ever admit that though

Spike Spiegel

At first, he’s gonna be mad because the outfit absolutely reminds him of Andy

But then you hit in with the

“I’m a cowboy Spike! I’m just like you!”

And he’s gonna fucking melt

Suddenly all negative feelings he has about cowboys are being washed away by the image of you looking like you walked fresh off the set of Big Shots

Because he’s him, he gonna mess around with your hat and make you pose and say certain things from old western movies with a drawl

He might even sneak a couple of photos here and there (or he’s gonna be completely shameless about it and take candid photos of you looking cute right in front of your face)

And eventually, he’ll probably hit you with his signature snark and tell you that he doesn’t dress anything like that

But he won’t be quick to ruin your fun though - he’s got a lot more compliments to shower you with

Especially since you dress up like all for him

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divineerdrick · 2 months

Text

Homestuck: Beyond Canon Upd8 for 413

Happy 413 everyone! We knew we were getting something today, as James announced that earlier. This time, it's an extensive news posts with notes from the whole team. Looks like we've got a few comic pages as well. Let's see what we got!

James: I can definitely relate to what James is saying. Homestuck and its community helped me keep going when it seemed like there genuinely wasn't a path forward. Obviously it hasn't always been sunshine and rainbows, but I do still feel there is a lot of genuine goodness and greatness in our little corner of the internet.

And yay! James is an Aradia fan!

Kim:

Kim is one of the people who grew up with this comic. I honestly can't imagine what that must be like. Although I had a lot of media I enjoyed at 13, I don't feel like any of it had the kind of impact on me then that Homestuck had now. It's not like there wasn't anything good on, either! It was 1993 when I was 13, and WB and Disney were at their apex. But Homestuck hit different. I honestly can't imagine what it was like being able to relate to those kids like they could be your friends in another life, growing up along side them.

Miles:

A beautiful mindfuck is a great way to describe it. Honestly the somewhat over the top, trollish, insincere seeming way that Miles is writing shows a great love for Homestuck and the project in and of itself. The love honestly does come through.

Chumi:

Chumi appears to be even younger than Kim, though I could be wrong there. And she also grew up with it, if maybe starting a couple of years into its run. But it goes a step further for her. Homestuck is her formative fandom. And again, I can't imagine what that must be like, let alone now creating art for it.

Andi:

Andi is another member of the team to have grown up alongside Homestuck. It makes sense that this would create the most talented and passionate people to work on the project. Like many fans, though, they also had Homestuck influence their identity and help them feel safe in discovering who they were. It will always be important we have people like them keeping this fandom alive.

floralmarsupial:

While the way Homestuck inspired me was different, she too was drawn in and influenced by the very artistic questions Homestuck posed. Looks like James has managed to put together a team that has all been impacted by Homestuck in subtly different ways. And I'm totally here for it!

Haven:

Oh wow! Coming in on Murderstuck! Ouch! Still, the effect Homestuck has had on them is very obvious!

It's nice to hear more from each voice behind the project. I'm glad they took the time to make this celebration a bit more personal. But with all that said and done, it's time to read an Upd8!

There is so much to talk about just from this image.

First off, this is the most like Bro that Dirk has ever looked. And it's not just the fact that we've just got a plain white silhouette with shades. There is a lot of chaos in this panel reminiscent of Bro's apartment. That outfit has absolutely never looked wackier. The anime ninja aesthetics combined with the pooffiness of those shorts is already crazy. But the Kamina cape in this looks more cliché villain than anime hero.

While we can't currently see one of the monitors, we absolutely can see that Dirk has been keeping track of our Meat crew. My guess is that the other monitor is Deltritus.

Also we get a throwback with some orange drinks floating about.

Dirk is, of course, being suitably condescending here. After all, in his mind this is the only way to make the narrative matter, to make anything that we'll give a shit about. He probably knows we still enjoy the "narrative kiddy pool" but he's counting on us truly getting invested in what he has planned.

Wow! Nice frame break! Also this art slaps!

Apparently Rose and Terezi are still a thing. Dirk only seems to partially approve of this. From his perspective, the relationship is a very Rose thing to do. And Rose doing Rose things is important to him and his plans. He also appreciates that Rose doesn't have infinite patience for the finetuning that Dirk could spend a literal eternity on. It keeps him on something resembling a schedule.

So are we going to see these "scions" of theirs?

I like that there's an obvious sea horse in that test tube. Also, outside of Hero mode Dirk is still sporting his character features at least. He hasn't slipped into being a full guardian yet.

Well fuck. That might just be the hardest anyone has ever "spoken too soon."

Hell yes! Adult Terezi is awesome! Also, she's not getting rid of her facial features any time soon!

I hope I didn't jinx that . . .

I'd forgotten Terezi can hear Dirk's narrative. She's also very much on the "Get on with it!" train. Dirk was planning to skip ahead anyway, but of course he wants to unveil his creation first.

So Terezi will be the one that actually makes sure the new session happens. I'm surprised Dirk is allowing that. I can definitely get why he doesn't want it automated.

I can honestly believe that Dirk really does care about his creation.

And I can honestly see Terezi playing the long game. I'm honestly curious why she wouldn't, beside Dirk's fuckery.

Ouch.

Also, damn this art is so fucking good!

We've seen the way Terezi can let what she sees as a mistake eat at her. We've seen how far she'll go to fix it. Is John's death doing that to her? Is even this older, seemingly more jaded Terezi unable to let something like that go even with what's at stake?

Or could she possibly be letting Dirk think that's what's going on? I really kinda hope that's it.

Now that's just being mean pretending you don't know what she meant by being in her "CH4MB3RS", Dirk.

Apparently Dirk still has a mouth when he needs to.

FUCKING!!!

DAMN!!!

That's an interesting way of showing them speaking at the same time. Kinda like it.

Okay. That is some legitimate Bullshit. I like that even Dirk calls it out as such. That is a ton of power to just flex like that. His reasoning is sound, but even he knows he's partly doing it because he can.

Wow.

There is so much to potentially read into this moment. On the one had, this might be a genuine Rose moment. Even if Dirk has been manipulating her a lot, this version of Rose might genuinely be appreciative of what they're trying to do.

The other possibility is that Rose is manipulating Dirk this time. There've been hints, and I find it hard to believe otherwise, the Rose is aware Dirk has been manipulating her somehow. She may not have figured out how he's doing it, but I feel she knows. As an ascended Seer of Light, her ability to read the most fortuitous path is literally godlike. I can't imagine that definition of fortune including one where she keeps losing more and more agency. So this might be a moment where she's telling Dirk what he needs to hear to stop him from stealing more from her.

The worst part is he genuine believes that.

#homestuck liveblog #live blog #live blogging #liveblog #liveblogging #upd8 spoilers #homestuck upd8 #update spoilers #upd8 #update #homestuck 2 #homestuck spoilers #homestuck #hsbc upd8 #hs spoilers #hsbc #hs #homestuck beyond canon spoilers #homestuck beyond canon

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