#answer: andy

[rejaytionships]

Question for the platonic f/os

What was the moment your knew you were friends with s/i?

@avas-wonderland

guess i'll go first! :)

frankie and i were pretty much friends from the get-go, if i'm honest!! we met through our dads when we were toddlers, and pretty immediately we started getting along. i was a pretty social kid, which helped frankie get out of their shell since they were still adjusting to their new family.

we both really enjoyed outdoor activities, so of course we had something fun to do! admittedly, i was always the better one at tag, though... don't tell them, but i used to run slower so they'd have a chance to tag me more often, haha.

even our pokemon are buddies now!! my little buddy bumper, my rampardos, is always super friendly with frankie's empoleon, bubbles!! if your pokemon get along, you're bound to do the same as trainers.

Renée? It took a while, but we got there!

I initially met them when they challenged my gym, and truly didn't think much about them. They were fun and had a stellar fashion sense, sure, but as a gym leader I tend to see a lot of challengers, so I didn't think to say anything back then.

It wasn't until they started dating Emmet that I really considered befriending them. Their style was too hard to ignore! I knew I had to be their friend at that point.

I take them with me all the time to different outings so they can help me pick out what to wear for big modelling events. I'll even help them get something custom for their own wardrobe. Win-win!

Austin and I were always friendly, but not on the railway to friendship until they became rivals with Emmet.

They were a marvelous challenger! Although, they have admitted to me that single battles are not as easy for them as double battles are. I can see why Emmet took interest in them.

Our trains tend to stay on different tracks because of the nature of my job, but I've become acquainted with their consistent presence off-hours. They join Emmet and I in our discussion about daily battles and what we've learned from them for our following battles.

Our trains did not depart toward the destination of friendship because of a specific incident. It was a slow change that happened without us noticing.

Ooh, ooh, it was the best day of my life!

I try to be nice to all of the new villains, 'cause we're all on the same side, but she was super different! Like, I didn't even think she was a villain! No costume, no cool name, just dressed as herself going by her actual name. She was sitting with Father (scary!), which was weird 'cause he usually only sat with the same three or four people at our meetings.

So of course, I went to introduce myself, and she was suuuuuuper sweet!!! Arnie seemed all nervous and everything before I sat down, but she opened up pretty quickly to me. They even called me their first friend at the meeting! Wow!!! :D

Not only were we friends that day, but super mega ultra bestest friend ever!!! I wouldn't trade her for anything in the world! Well, maybe defeating those Kids Next Door, but that'd be way more fun with her alongside me, duh!!! What's the point of being cooler than kids if you can't even have your best buddy with you?!?!?!?!?

The literal second I saw Cro, I knew she had to be my best friend!

I try to be friendly with everyone who works at Skool with me, of course, but she was one of the only people I could completely open up to! From the get-go, we had fun chit-chatting about our days and we realized we both had sooo much in common! Plus she's a total sweetheart, I knew that big grumpy bear was all warm and fuzzy when you got to know her~

We probably became official friends about a month into working together, when we ran into each other at the local all-you-can-eat.

I even thought I was into her for a while! We met while I was mid-divorce, and she was super duper understanding! Turned out that us dating was an impulse decision, we're waaay better friends, really. Regardless, we're definitely meant to be in each other's lives! I wouldn't give my Crocro up for the world!

[namchyoon]

cutie <3 (for @magicshop ♡) cr. namuspromised 

[bigidiotenergytm]

HEY, HADES, YOU GOT ANYMORE OF THOSE PRETTY TATTOOS ANYWHERE ELSE ON YOUR BODY??? MAYBE?? DO YOU HAVE ANY ON YOUR THIGHS, MAYHAPS?? OR YOUR CHEST AREA???

(Totally not me just trying to get you to draw Hades without his robes, what do you mean)

[apt502-if]

I just want to know one thing about the next update:

pretty pretty please, will we see andi in person? :3

maybe

[ronearoundblindly]

What are you thoughts on the Cevans characters (+ Bucky hehe) on giving & receiving oral? Who’s more into what, like which role do they prefer. Are any of them not into it at all? Do any of them like it more than actual sex?

Your takes on the Cevans characters are always so accurate 🥰🎀 Luv your blog <3

Ohhhhhh nessie. So spicy. So 😙🤌. Let's GO!

Warnings for, yeah, discussion of oral (both m and f receiving) with some references to other sexual acts for comparison, etc. We got there this time, gang, like all the way to hell...

Andy Barber

Into both but not his fave. Since Andy wasn't originally in my list of characters (and thus never got a favorite sex position), I'll tell you now that Mr. Barber is more of a face-to-face and hands-on lover. He enjoys a blowjob, sure, and he's by no means against going down on you, but his hands like to grope and wander more than those allow.

Ari Levinson

Really into both. Wow, just, really really into both. Can't say he enjoys it "more" than actual sex, but ohhh fuck it's close. Ari is a roar-as-he-comes-down-your-throat type of guy. He definitely is sloppy on you, not afraid to soak his beard before you even peak. I stand by my headcanon that Ari doesn't like his hair pulled though. He understands it'll happen sometimes, but he will move if you keep tugging hard. Much happier if you leave scratches across his shoulders instead.

Also, Ari strikes me as a man who would enjoy road head or pull over to go down on you if he's horny or bored or just because. I don't have a reason for that, but it's true. The end.

Curtis Everett

He's a giver 100%. Curtis isn't *against* getting a blowjob, but he can't enjoy it much if you aren't really into giving, too.

Maybe TMI, idk, but I also get the impression that Curtis really adds a lot of his tongue thrusting into you during the act. No reasoning, just vibes. He wants to actually fuck you with his face.

Jake Jensen

Whiny and needs practice but he appreciates both ways. Jake needs you to verbally tell him what to do and what feels good, so for a while at least, some of the fun is taken away from that. He also needs the practice not blowing his load about 30 seconds after your lips get on him. That visual--you kneeling or bent over trying to fit him in your mouth--just...does him in so fast.

Jimmy Dobyne

Nope, not really. Surprisingly, he has the skill to make you come without having to do it a lot, but Jimmy still crawls up under your skirt rarely. It's like The Best present when he does. Like, who the fuck did he practice this on to the point of expertise??? Makes no sense, but I'm telling you, Jimmy is the secret munch of the bunch. He'll let you go down on him, but he won't be the one to suggest it. That's purely up to you.

Johnny Storm

Eh--little here, little there. He enjoys the riskiness of oral in semi-public places more than p-in-v sex. Johnny is DTF always...mostly, so nothing is off the table...and he's fine being on the table, just for reference.

Lloyd Hansen

Lloyd is more of a receiver and a giant tease for going down on you. He talks a good game, and you'd think with the mustache that he's practically been groomed to be sat on. However, Lloyd likes to be smug as hell, telling you he'll take care of you but he just needs to unwind after his day. He doesn't really intend to put in much effort because Lloyd is good enough with his fingers and dick. He gets away with avoiding it.

James Mace

Similar to Andy for different reasons: he's into both but neither is his fave. Mace likes a lot of things a little bit. Every position is on rotation. He doesn't want you to get bored, or worse, to be boring, so Mace plays around constantly. Yes, you two still fuck in the bedroom 'the most,' but that's not from lack of other variety.

Ransom Drysdale

Mostly a receiver but in a less controlling way than Lloyd. He uses his tongue as torture on you, i.e. Ran has no intention of bringing you to climax and he wants for you to beg. He wants you to prefer fucking him. Ransom is too lazy for this to be a regular thing he has to do.

Now, again, don't ask me why but I truly believe Ran gets a kick out of choking you on his dick. There's a distinction here, though, because Lloyd enjoys watching you struggle to take him in your mouth while Ransom purposefully thrusts to choke you. It's not prolonged. It's just a kink he likes.

Steve Rogers

Will eat you out at the drop of a hat but thinks a blowjob is degrading to you. Steve has a very traditional notion of respect for the people he loves...and, no, he doesn't see the hypocrisy in that. His excuse is that he likes his mouth all over you, down there no different than anywhere else 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Bucky Barnes

Oh, fuck yeah.

What's there to expand on? Bucky 100% loves to watch you worship his body and loves to worship yours. This dude may have some social and professional hangups, but sex hasn't changed much since the '30s. Anatomy (more or less) is anatomy, and at least all of his romance bits are the same.

Does he prefer giving or receiving? It's pretty equal. You both go gaga over the other dressing up fancy...or dressing down...or when you're dressing...or, ya know, not dressed. Basically, it's just a 'yes.'

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm

[rainandandy]

Bigger than the whole sky

Pairings: Rain Carradine X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Contains graphic depictions of violence, including public beatings and injuries that lead to death, themes of loss and grief, and the depiction of a harsh, dystopian environment with elements of oppression and cruelty. It also includes scenes of emotional distress, as characters witness the death of a loved one. Please read with caution.

Word Count:4209

Note: Kinda just went on with this one..... it hurt to write this and I based it off of the Gale beating scene in Hunger Games Catching Fire. Hope you enjoy (cry your heart out) with this

Life on Jackson's Star was steeped in bleakness, each day unfolding under the shadow of Weyland-Yutani's relentless control. The air was thick with dust and despair, the sky a perpetual overcast of smog that blurred the line between day and night. You, along with Rain and her brother Andy, had adapted to this harsh reality with a resilience born of necessity. Navigating through the oppressive regime required a careful balance of caution and subtle rebellion, as the omnipresent surveillance drones buzzed overhead like carrion birds waiting for a misstep.

The colony itself was a sprawling network of industrial complexes and cramped living quarters, all constructed with the cold functionality of corporate efficiency. The metallic clang of machinery and the hiss of steam were the constant backdrop to your lives, reminding you that the colony's primary function was to serve the company's interests, not the welfare of its inhabitants.

Despite the ever-present danger of being singled out by the guards for any perceived infraction, you three maintained a semblance of hope. In whispered conversations as you worked the barren fields or scavenged for parts among the debris, you shared dreams of a life beyond the company's grasp. These dreams were defiant sparks in the oppressive gloom of Jackson's Star, small but bright enough to keep the darkness at bay.

That day, as you toiled in the fields of Jackson's Star, the atmosphere was unusually tense, the air heavy with more than just the usual burdens. The rich, damp scent of freshly turned earth mingled oddly with the sharp, acrid tang of industrial exertion—a stark reminder of the unnatural union of nature and machine that characterized your existence. Clouds hung low, a somber gray canopy that seemed to press down on the landscape, intensifying the oppressive feel of the day.

The guards patrolled with heightened vigilance, their movements sharp and deliberate. Their fingers rested uneasily on the handles of their batons, twitching occasionally with a nervous energy that mirrored the electric charge of the air. Every step they took sent small shivers of apprehension through the ranks of laborers, their boots leaving deep, menacing imprints in the muddy ground.

Rain, ever the embodiment of resilience and quiet rebellion, had momentarily paused her labor. Leaning heavily on her shovel, she wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her mud-streaked hand. Her chest heaved from the exertion, breaths coming in short, labored gasps that she tried to quiet, knowing all too well the dangers of displaying fatigue.

It was this moment of vulnerability, however fleeting, that drew the attention of a particularly ruthless officer. Known among the workers for his harsh discipline and cold demeanor, his eyes locked onto Rain with predatory precision. The badge on his chest seemed to gleam more fiercely under the overcast sky, a symbol of the unchecked authority he wielded. His approach was deliberate, each step measured to instill fear, his shadow falling ominously across the rows of bent backs and bowed heads.

As he drew closer, the underlying threat in his posture was unmistakable, his baton now an extension of his arm, raised not just as a tool but as a weapon of control. His presence loomed over Rain, a dark cloud in a field already devoid of sunlight, ready to burst at the slightest provocation.

The overseer's voice sliced through the humid air, a harsh interruption to the muffled cacophony of clanking tools and muted conversations of the weary workers. "Hey! No resting!" His tone was sharp, the authority in his command unwavering as his eyes fixed on Rain. With a menacing flourish, he raised his baton, the metal gleaming ominously under the harsh artificial lights of the work fields.

Rain looked up slowly, her expression unflinching, molded into a mask of steely resolve that seemed to stiffen her spine. Her hands, calloused and stained from the day's labor, clenched into fists at her sides. She met the overseer's gaze with a defiant fire burning in her eyes, her jaw set, bracing for the confrontation she knew was coming.

From just a few feet away, you witnessed the standoff, and a fierce, protective rage surged within you. The overseer’s blatant aggression, the threat looming so palpably in the air, sparked a primal defiance in your chest. Your muscles tensed, coiled springs ready to release. Without a moment’s hesitation, your feet moved of their own accord, carrying you forward.

"Leave her alone!" Your voice, loud and clear, cut through the tension like a knife. Every eye in the vicinity snapped towards you, including Rain's, which flickered briefly with something akin to worry and gratitude. The overseer turned his glare towards you, baton still raised, his expression twisting into one of surprise and then anger at your challenge.

"This doesn’t concern you," he spat, his words dripping with venom. But standing there, facing down the threat to someone you cared deeply about, you felt a steadfast resolve take root. This was your battle too, and you wouldn't back down. "She’s just catching her breath, sir," you said, your voice a calm contrast to the growing tension, trying to diffuse the situation. "We’ll get back to work right now."

The officer halted, mere inches from you, his shadow looming over you like a dark cloud. His face twisted into a sneer of outrage at your audacity to challenge him. "Double shift for you, then," he hissed venomously, his baton now lifted to emphasize his authority. The electronic hum of the baton was a clear threat as it activated, crackling with energy. "Think you can undermine me? You'll regret it."

Your heart raced as you maintained eye contact, refusing to show the fear that skittered down your spine. As the officer turned away, his message clear, you felt Rain’s hand reached out, touching your arm lightly, her expression tormented. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words seemed to catch in her throat, stifled by the oppressive atmosphere.

Seeing her distress, you turned to her, your eyes locking. It was a silent communication, filled with years of shared hardships and understanding. You shook your head slightly, a clear signal. "You’re finished for the day. Go home, I’ll manage," you murmured quietly, pushing her gently toward Andy, who stood a few steps behind, his synthetic eyes wide with a programmed concern that mirrored human fear.

"But I can help—" Rain started to argue, her voice low and urgent.

You cut her off, your tone soft but firm, "No, Rain. It’s better if you're not involved. Please, for me, just go back with Andy. Stay safe." The plea in your voice was evident, each word laced with your concern not just for your own welfare but profoundly for hers.

Rain's eyes searched yours, a storm of emotions passing through them—fear, frustration, helplessness. Finally, with a weighty exhale, Rain gave a reluctant nod. Her fingers tightened around yours, conveying a silent vow to return. "Be careful," she murmured, her words nearly whisked away by the brisk wind. She hesitated, her gaze lingering on you with a mixture of fear and resolve, before Andy gently guided her away. Even as they retreated, her eyes kept darting back to you, etching every detail into her memory, laden with palpable concern.

Rain and Andy hurried back to the sanctuary of your shared quarters, the familiarity of the space a stark contrast to the chaos of the fields. The safety of these walls, peppered with personal touches and memories of quieter times, stood as a silent testament to the life you had built together amid the harsh realities of Jackson’s Star. As the hours ticked by, Rains worry only grew.

The fleeting sense of relief vanished as the harsh chirp of the communicator shattered the tense silence. Rain's heart skipped as Tyler's voice, laden with unmistakable dread, crackled through the speaker. "Get to the square—now! They have her." The urgency in his tone sent a chill down her spine, each word heavy with a grim portent that sent them rushing into the cold, unforgiving night of Jackson's Star.

Rain and Andy raced through the oppressively dim corridors of Jackson’s Star, their boots pounding against the cold metal floor, the sound reverberating off the narrow walls, amplifying their urgency and dread. The dim lighting flickered overhead, casting ghostly shadows that danced along the walls, mimicking their frantic pace. As they emerged into the open expanse of the square, their breaths were ragged, steam rising in the chilled air, mingling with the low murmur of the gathered crowd.

The scene that unfolded before them was one of stark terror and injustice, staged in the heart of the colony under the harsh glare of floodlights. The square, usually a place of communal gathering, had transformed into a chilling tableau of authoritarian display. At its center, raised above the muttering crowd on a grim platform, stood you—your figure stark and diminished, bound tightly with rough cords that cut into your skin. The fabric of your work clothes was stained dark with blood, stark against the pale severity of your skin, lending a macabre tone to the scene.

Rain’s heart thudded painfully against her ribs, a stark contrast to the numbing coldness spreading through her veins as she caught sight of you. The captain of the patrol was there, his voice booming unnaturally loud through the speakers, reciting a list of crimes so absurd and fabricated that they would have been laughable under any other circumstance. His words sliced through the murmurs of the crowd, each one landing like a physical blow against Rain's consciousness.

"They’re going to kill her," Rain murmured, the realization slicing through her like a cold blade. Her words were barely audible, lost beneath the cacophony of the square, yet they carried the weight of an unbearable foreboding. Andy, standing steadfast by her side, reached out a hand to steady her, his own expression one of muted horror, unable to fully simulate human emotion but clearly programmed to respond with empathy.

Rain's face was ashen, the color drained as if she herself had been bled of life. Her eyes, wide and filled with a palpable terror, were fixed unblinkingly on you, witnessing the grim spectacle of the guards preparing their instruments of torture. The sight of the metallic electronic batons, glinting ominously under the artificial lights, sent a shiver of dread down her spine.

In that moment, the square felt colder than ever, the usual hum of colony life drowned out by the grave proceedings of this cruel justice. The crowd around them seemed to fade into a blur, their faces either grim or impassively curious, none daring to intervene. Rain felt a surge of helpless rage mixed with her fear, a tumultuous storm that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

The scene at the square was charged with tension and dread. The crowd that had gathered murmured and shifted on their feet, their discomfort palpable in the heavy air as the officers prepared for the beating. You stood defiantly, your back straight, jaw clenched, bracing yourself against the rough wood of the beam to which you were tied. The first blow came down hard, the sound of the baton striking you echoed through the square, a harsh clack that seemed to resonate in the chests of all who heard it.

You didn't give them the satisfaction of hearing you scream. Your teeth were gritted, each breath through them a hiss of pain and defiance. The guards, emboldened by your silence, continued with increased ferocity, each strike aimed to break your resolve.

At the edge of the crowd, Rain's face was a mask of agony. "Stop it! Just stop, please!" Her voice broke through the murmurs, shrill with fear and desperation. Her hands were balled into tight fists at her sides, her fingernails digging into her palms, drawing blood that dripped unnoticed to the ground. She made a move to break through the crowd, to run to you, but Tyler and Bjorn caught her by the arms, pulling her back.

"Rain, no! You can't—you’ll only get yourself killed!" Tyler hissed, trying to anchor her back with his strength.

Bjorn added in a low, urgent tone, "Look at me, Rain! We can't help her by getting ourselves killed. We have to think this through."

Rain struggled against their grip, her eyes never leaving you, witnessing each brutal blow. "They're killing her!" she screamed, her voice hoarse with terror. "We can’t just stand here and watch this happen!"

As the beating continued, each impact sending shockwaves of pain through your frame, the reality of your situation sank in deeply for everyone present. This wasn’t merely a punishment; it was a spectacle designed to quell any thoughts of defiance among the workers. Your suffering was meant to remind them of their place under the oppressive heel of Weyland-Yutani.

Bjorn's grip on Rain’s arm was iron-tight, his voice a harsh whisper in her ear, cutting through the chaos with desperate urgency. "It’s a setup," he growled, his words laced with a bitter edge of realism. "They’re pinning all types of lies on her.”

Rain's face crumpled, tears carving clean paths down her dirt-streaked cheeks. She tried to move forward, to reach you, to scream out against the monstrous injustice, but her friends held her back, knowing any further action would only lead to more tragedy. "Please," she choked out, her voice strained to breaking. "They can't do this. Not to her."

The crowd around you swelled, a collective beast of spectators who watched as the guards, satisfied with their grim work, finally stepped back. Your body, so full of fight and spirit, now hung limp and defeated. The sight was a brutal blow to Rain, her knees buckling under the weight of despair. "No, no, no," she sobbed, her hands reaching out futilely as if she could somehow bridge the distance and bring you back to her.

As the guards finally ceased their brutal assault, wiping the dark smears from their metallic batons with nonchalance, one of them looked over to Tyler and the rest of your friends with a nod that bore the weight of finality. “They’re done,” Tyler muttered, his voice ringing hollow in the charged atmosphere, betraying the turmoil beneath his calm exterior. "We need to get her out of here." Kay, with her medical kit clutched tightly in her hands, was already bulldozing her way through the stunned onlookers. Her voice cut sharply through the tension, "Move!" she commanded, her tone brooking no argument. The guards, taken aback by her audacity, stepped aside, allowing her access to the platform.

Reaching you, Kay dropped to her knees, her hands moving quickly and efficiently as she checked for any sign of life. Her face was set in a mask of concentration, the lines around her mouth taut with concern. She pressed two fingers against your neck, searching for a pulse. After a tense moment, she looked up, her expression grim but relieved, "She’s alive. Just barely. Help me get her back."

Rain, who had been frozen by fear and grief, sprang into action at Kay's words. Her eyes, red-rimmed and haunted, met Kay's as she helped lift your limp body. "Be careful with her," Rain whispered, her voice trembling as she and Kay maneuvered you down from the platform.

As they carried you through the crowd, which parted silently to let them pass, Rain’s mind raced with panic and fear, each step towards their compound

Back at the small, dimly lit compound that you, Rain, and Andy called home, the air was thick with tension and the lingering scent of blood. The cramped quarters, usually filled with quiet conversation and the occasional joke, now felt suffocating under the weight of the night’s events.

As you were laid gently on the makeshift table, Rain hovered over you, her hands trembling as they brushed the hair from your bloodied face. "Please, stay with me," she whispered, her voice breaking, barely more than a desperate plea.

Navarro, who had always been calm in a crisis, took charge immediately. "Clear the table," she ordered, her voice steady. She moved quickly, removing the few items that cluttered the surface. "We need space to work."

Kay, who had been training as a medic before Weyland-Yutani’s brutal regime took hold, was already digging through her kit. "We need clean water, towels—anything we can use to stop the bleeding," she instructed, her hands shaking as she unpacked bandages and antiseptic.

Andy shuffled awkwardly by the door, his eyes flickering with distress. "I-I’ll get the w-water," he stuttered, his synthetic voice faltering as he rushed to the small sink in the corner, fumbling with the handle before managing to fill a bowl.

The first thing Kay did was assess your wounds, her expression growing more grim by the second. "This is bad," she muttered under her breath, though Rain caught the words and felt her heart clench in response.

"Just tell me what to do," Rain said, her voice thick with fear but laced with determination. "Tell me how I can help."

"Keep pressure here," Kay instructed, guiding Rain’s hands to a deep gash on your side. The wound bled sluggishly, staining Rain’s fingers a dark crimson. "Navarro, I need more gauze, and a needle and thread. We have to stop the bleeding before anything else."

As Rain pressed down, she leaned close to you, her breath warm against your ear. "You’re going to be okay," she whispered, though her voice trembled. "I’m right here, baby. We’re going to get you through this."

You stirred slightly, your eyes fluttering open just enough to focus on her. "Rain..." your voice was weak, barely more than a rasp. "I’m... sorry."

"Don’t," Rain choked out, tears welling in her eyes. "Don’t apologize. Just hold on, okay? Just hold on."

The room was silent save for the occasional clink of metal instruments and the sound of your labored breathing. The bowls of water that Andy brought over quickly turned pink, then a deep red as Kay and Navarro worked to clean your wounds. The table beneath you was soon stained with blood, the scent of iron heavy in the air.

Kay’s hands moved quickly, stitching up the worst of the gashes, her face set in concentration. "We need to get her stable," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "She’s lost too much blood."

Andy hovered nearby, clutching a clean towel he had found, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and helplessness. "W-will she be okay?" he asked, his voice small and hesitant.

"We’re doing everything we can," Navarro replied, her tone a blend of reassurance and reality. She exchanged a look with Kay, who only shook her head slightly.

Rain noticed the exchange, her heart sinking further. "She has to be okay," Rain whispered, her voice cracking. "She has to."

Hours passed, and the night deepened, the oppressive silence of the compound only broken by the sound of your shallow breaths and Rain’s quiet murmurs. She held your hand tightly, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a rhythm meant to comfort both you and herself.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of the words she was afraid she’d never get to say again. "Please don’t leave me. Not like this."

You managed a weak smile, though it took all the strength you had left. "Love you... too," you whispered back, your voice barely audible. "Always."

Rain leaned down, pressing her lips to your forehead, her tears mingling with the blood and sweat that covered your skin. "Always," she echoed, her heart breaking with every passing second.

As dawn approached, your breath became more labored, the fight slipping from your body. Rain felt the shift, her entire world narrowing down to the weakening pulse beneath her fingertips. "No, no, no," she whispered frantically, her grip tightening as if she could somehow keep you anchored to life. "Please, don’t go."

You looked up at her, your eyes filled with a mixture of pain and peace. "It’s okay," you whispered, though it cost you everything to say it. "I’ll... always... be with you."

Rain’s sobs filled the room as your eyes slowly closed, your hand slipping from hers as your body went still. The silence that followed was deafening, a hollow void where your heartbeat had once been.

"She’s gone," Kay said quietly, her voice steady but carrying the unmistakable edge of sorrow. Her words cut through the room like a blade, the finality of it crashing down on Rain like a tidal wave. The compound, already dim and cold, seemed to grow even darker.

Rain didn’t respond immediately. Her body began to tremble, first just a slight shiver in her shoulders, then growing into a full, uncontrollable shaking as the reality of your loss settled in. She leaned over your still form, her tears falling in relentless streams, splashing against your skin. "No... please, no," she sobbed, her voice breaking, clutching at you as if holding you tighter could somehow pull you back from the abyss.

Andy, who had been standing nearby, approached hesitantly. His synthetic form seemed to sag under the weight of the moment, his usually bright eyes dimmed with a sorrow that was unnatural for a machine. "R-Rain," he stuttered, his voice halting and filled with a strange echo of human grief. "She... she loved you so much."

The room felt suffocating, the air thick with despair. Tyler stood off to the side, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. He stared at the floor, unable to look at you, unable to reconcile the brutal end you had met with the strong, vibrant person he had known. His chest heaved with the effort to keep his own emotions in check, but the tear that slid down his cheek betrayed his inner turmoil.

Bjorn, always the stoic, had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression unreadable. But his eyes were fixed on Rain and your body, the usual hardness in his gaze softened by a quiet, painful understanding. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to breathe. For all his gruff exterior, the sight of Rain breaking down over your body pierced through his defenses.

Navarro, who had been helping Kay moments earlier, stepped back, her hands shaking. The blood that had stained her fingers felt like it was burning into her skin, a reminder of how close they had all come to saving you—and how far they had failed. She pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob that threatened to break free, her eyes brimming with tears.

As Rain's sobs grew louder, more desperate, the room's silence was broken only by the sound of her heartbreak. "Please, don’t leave me," she whispered through her tears, her voice small, broken. She pressed her forehead against yours, her fingers tangled in your hair as she pleaded with you, as if willing you to open your eyes, to take just one more breath.

Andy knelt beside her, his mechanical hand resting gently on her shoulder, though his touch was cold. "I’m s-sorry," he managed to say, his voice almost robotic but laden with the echoes of human grief. "She was b-brave."

Tyler finally moved, crossing the short distance between him and Rain. He placed a hand on her back, his own tears now falling freely. "She saved you, Rain," he said softly, his voice strained with the effort to keep it steady. "She saved us all."

Rain didn’t respond, her world having collapsed to just you and the unbearable loss that consumed her. She clung to you, pressing her face into your neck, her sobs muffled against your skin. "I can’t... I can’t do this without you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Please, wake up. Please."

But the silence that followed was deafening, the finality of your death sinking into the hearts of everyone present. Kay moved around the table, gently covering your body with a blanket, her movements slow and reverent, as if any sudden action might shatter the fragile hold they all had on their emotions.

As the hours passed, the reality of the situation set in. Rain never left your side, her fingers still entwined with yours, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Andy remained close, his presence a silent vigil, his circuits whirring quietly in the background.

Bjorn and Tyler took turns keeping watch at the door, their usual banter replaced by a heavy silence. Navarro sat in a corner, her knees drawn to her chest, staring at the floor as she tried to process the loss.

Rain’s heart ached with a pain so deep it felt like it would consume her whole. But through her grief, she knew one thing with absolute certainty: you had saved her, sacrificed everything for her, and that knowledge, though it brought her no comfort, would be the anchor that kept her from completely drowning in her sorrow.

She leaned over, pressing one last kiss to your forehead, her tears mixing with the blood still staining your skin. "I’ll never forget you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I’ll never stop loving you."

[roscoe-me-and-this-fuckin-kid]

[toa-archive]

One of the oddities of storyboarding specifically because of when Trollhunters was airing is a bunch of them appear on instagram. They are still at the risk of being purged though they did to stick around which is nice. Rather low quality/fast speed and a few panels than nothing.

One of these has been Andy Erekson's Angor wake up sequence from Return of the Trollhunter. If you want to see them on there, you can find Part 1 and Part 2 through those links.

If you don't want to bother with that and want to see them in one go well with his site revamp he added it to speakerdeck:

It's sliiightly different from the final and when Angor still had his doofy little horns.

Enjoy!

[coffin-ramblings]

In your opinion, what makes Andrew's interest in Ashley romantic rather than just sexual? Love your analyses and wanted your expert opinion, bc personally I'm kinda on the fence about it

I am very flattered that you like my analysts and consider me an expert! It is a great honor to be told that.

The first evidence Andrew is romantically in love with Ashley is this dialogue back in Episode 1. This was actually one of the big reasons why I did not check out Episode 2 for a long while because of how fucking weird Andrew is. I already knew he was weird and actually down bad for Ashley, but that moment really shows how deeply fucked up this guy is. What do you mean you think it's too romantic to commit suicide by jumping off the balcony with your sister? Even Ashley thinks he's weird there.

And then he explains that he thinks it's romantic because that'd mean their bodies would be be entangled together and have to be buried in the same coffin. Despite this, he likes that Ashley wants to join him, which wow, okay dude.

We now fast forward to chapter 2, where we get a lot more of incestuous hints from Andrew.

The first obvious one that you will always see is Andrew checking on Ashley because she's obviously in a bad mood having their burglary thwarted and having to talk with, cook for, and eat with their mother who abandoned them, likely sold them out, and wanted them dead. Ashley doesn't want to talk about it because this confirms her desire to sacrifice them and was hoping she didn't have to say it to Andrew, so she is also frustrated he's not picking that up either and being snappy. Andrew then thinks, "I want to hug her until she smiles", which okay, that's innocuous enough, but is then followed by, "I'm not going to do it, it's another thought that I wish I never had." What kind of thoughts do you have that makes you not want to hug your sister and comfort her Andrew? Isn't it a good thing you want to make her happy especially in this really shit day? And why are you blushing at that thought???

After that, you can have Andrew go talk with their mother and have this gem:

While it's easy to think Andrew thinking, "I don't want to grow fonder of Ashley because she's a bitch" if you see this the first time, notice that he starts blushing there. He very much does not want his romantic desires for Ashley intensified, nor does he ever want to be separated from her as we find out later on at the fireplace if you are on Burial route.

And before that, Andrew eats Ashley's mom-and-dad soup despite his obvious reluctance to and his outright refusal in Decay. He is only doing this to make Ashley happy, when the day before, he was holding back from just hugging her to cheer her up because of the fear that intimacy with Ashley will expose his feelings, which is why Ashley is surprised. That is, quite weirdly, a romantic gesture of Andrew.

And finally, no matter how you get Burial Sane, Andrew is still on better terms with her than before their parents died. Sure he's grumpy and aloof, but he still is happy to be with her and he doesn't start blaming her for their situation. This unnerves Ashley because she now realizes that he doesn't "need" her, but he's still hanging around for who knows how long and she can't guarantee he will stay.

It's easy to think that Andrew's feelings for Ashley is just sexual when the main focus has been Burial Questionable and the confirmation that they can have sex in Decay. Sane often gets neglected for being boring, "pointless", and Ashley being "out of character" for not teasing Andrew about the incest vision, but it is still a major route of the game and is worth analyzing. People often miss the main point of the game is that Andrew's and Ashley's (mostly) platonic relationship is already under a lot of strain due to their mutual distrust that the other will betray and/or leave them, Ashley being too stuck in the past in the most obvious form of being attached to Andy, and Andrew being cold to Ashley because he can't be honest with his affection for her. They have to rebuild their relationship as family and friends first before they can have a relatively healthy romantic relationship. Even after that obstacle, the fear of being rejected for their incestuous feelings is very real and valid when they're also family, and if the other leaves them for that or stops being on good terms with them, they are completely alone and/or heartbroken because they have no one left to love them and for them to love back.

This is why Andrew represses his romantic desire for Ashley, and Ashley can choose to stay platonic with him or tell Andrew that they will not have sex. They are both aware this really is not normal, they are most likely going to be rejected because it's abnormal, and they are afraid of what will happen after rejection. They value each other so much that they will be happy to give up their own desires if it means that they can still have each other around. That is also quite romantic, and needless to say, a very common experience for people who have trouble with confessing or never confessed their feelings to the people they love.

If Andrew merely had sexual feelings for Ashley, he can just keep dating and having sex with other women that look like her and move on. Even though Ashley doesn't like it and resents him for that, at least they still have a relationship, which is better than none at all for Andrew. It is much more difficult for Andrew when he is romantically in love with her, and he actively has to hide it away from her in hopes she won't reject him. He tried to make the best of dating Julia to try to get rid of his romantic and sexual feelings for Ashley, but even that is not enough. As seen in the Voicemails video, he needs to imagine Julia's Ashley to say romantic declarations of love to her, but that makes him sad.

On a more meta level, and one a lot of fans forget, is that TCOAAL is a psychological horror game. It is so much more revolting and well, horrifying that Andrew has romantic feelings for Ashley. My revulsion at Andrew was so strong that I stayed away from the game for months, planning to wait until Episode 3 because I want Julia to show up so I can root for her because neither sibling was sympathetic enough for me. If it was just Andrew being very sexually touchy with Ashley, I and many others would have thought he is sexually abusive or he only sees Ashley as a sex doll, and thus find it easier to root for Ashley and hope she leaves him or retaliates against him. But it is way more fascinating and accurate to a codependency that there is no clear abuser-and-victim or good guy and bad guy dynamic, that the siblings are mutually horrible to each other, but also mutually in love and lust for each other. Nemlei makes their romance an integral part of the game's horror, which is a masterful display of her skill as a creator to blend two seemingly opposite feelings into one work of art.

[andy-clutterbuck]

2024 Winter TCA Portrait Studio

[dms-a-jem]

Depeche Mode Interview

1988 - RTBF (Belgian TV)

Disclaimer: I’m not an astrology buff, but I feel like their answers perfectly encompass their horoscope signs:

Andy (Cancer): Avoid drama, just say yourself

Alan (Gemini): Is polite and gives a dignified answer, but can’t help the subtle head-shake as he thinks “what a juvenile question”

Martin (Leo): Loyalty to his bestie, but in order not to offend the other two explains his reasoning and then cracks a joke to lighten the mood

Dave (Taurus): Uncomfortable giving an answer, jokes about spilling the drama to deflect for a second…but in the heat of the moment wants to answer honestly. Then his brain finally catches up and he realizes “no wait, I love Martin and Andy too” and rambles on about how they’re all buddies

[the-iceni-bitch]

Another request 🥴 “Hey, listen to me. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you.” with Andy please?

Yes! Teddy bear Andy who just wants to take care of you is like crack for my anguish.

You were crying in your sleep again. Andy could hear your whimpering and feel you tossing and turning on his sleep, blinking slowly as he woke up and frowning as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead and cheeks.

“Baby…” he hushed you gently when you opened your eyes and sobbed immediately. “Aww honey, did you have a bad dream?”

“Yeah.” You sniffled and snuggled closer to him. “It was dark and scary and all I knew was that you weren’t there. I was all alone.”

“Fuck honey, it’s okay now, though.” Andy held your chin and tilted your face up to look at him. “Hey, listen to me. Nothing is going to hurt you. I’m always here for you, I promise.”

“I know.” You rested your head on his shoulder as you started to calm down, letting him rub your back and rub his cheek against your hair. “I know.”

He could always make you feel safe and cared for, even after such an upsetting dream. You felt yourself starting to drift off to sleep again, smiling a small smile to yourself as he started to hum a little tune to help you relax in his arms.

⁂❆❅ 𝒥𝑜𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝐵𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝐵𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎 ❅❆⁂

[bigidiotenergytm]

A gift from you, And a gift from me.

ft @axt-bs's zeus and @aris-not-ares's eurylochus from a rp me n andy are doin <3

[icecappen]

me every time peepers separates himself from the rest of the watchdogs despite him being a member of the same species

[ronearoundblindly]

Hi Lexi, I have an ask 😏

I keep seeing these pranks girlfriends are doing on their boyfriends on TikTok where the girl is talking to her man about her waxing appointment she just had and she casually says 'HE was great' or 'HE did a great job’

How do you think the Chris characters would react? 😂😂

Warnings for Lexi getting on her professional high horse and inferences to, well, the areas that get waxed.

Hi. I'm Lexi, and this is my job. I wax people for a living and am about to get extremely serious for a moment before our fun imagines...

IF the person is professional, there is zero reason a male or female waxologist should matter. Of course, it is important for the client themselves to be most comfortable, but men and women can be equally good at this job and equally shit at it. I say this knowing that I went to school with a handful of women that did not care about the comfort or safety of their clients, only money and time. I'd say it was as bad as 50/50. The sex or sexual orientation of your professional doesn't actually matter, and I find it childish that any man would get huffy or jealous as long as the service is done professionally and well for the actual client. I would personally punch any man (yes, even those with faces as pretty as above) for being a sexist, assuming dickhead in this manner.

James Mace

Curious. Sorta wants to come with you to your next appointment and ask how a man gets into that line of work, since it is more rare. Mace would also be curious if you were shocked at first that a man would wax you. Did you feel uncomfortable at first? Has more than one man waxed you? Is this...is this a thing he can learn to help with? He's simply never thought about it before.

Curtis Everett

Weirdly 'classic man' about it and thinks it's bizarre a man waxes people. He just thinks that sounds like a woman's profession and a woman's service. Cringes and hisses at the mere thought of hair being ripped from his own body, so Curtis cannot fathom why anyone does it, man or woman.

Jimmy Dobyne

Doesn't give a rat's ass if there's hair down there, so mostly he's just indifferent to the whole situation. If you start talking about 'how cute' your waxer is, however, that's another story. Would probably assume the man is gay, too, and would express shock if you said otherwise. To Jimmy though, a job is a job. Whatever.

Johnny Storm

Simultaneously doesn't care and is fascinated. He's a try-anything-once person, so Johnny kinda wants to know what that feels like AND will be an enormous baby about the pain of waxing. He would be equally fascinated if the professional were female or male to be honest, though he'd be slightly more goofy and flirtatious with a woman. Johnny--as you may guess--would love to make you jealous so that he can 'prove himself' to you over and over again; he isn't a jealous type on his own.

Jake Jensen

Dead silence. Doesn't mention a fucking thing about how he feels but internally screaming. Deeply angry that not only did a man see you that way but also that a man is doing something 'painful' to you and that Jake didn't know before. Does a background check on your professional without ever saying a word to you. Only brings it up if there's something suspicious in the man's record. Refuses to be 'that guy' and voice his discomfort. Hopes you both never speak of it again...or the man retires soon and you see a woman.

Lloyd Hansen

Can you guess? I feel by now you can guess what I'm going to say.

Lloyd (that's right) doesn't. give. a. fuck.

Good. Get waxed. There is no need to talk about it. He just cares that it's done, not about any of the specifics.

Ari Levinson

Horrified that anyone waxes anything. Vaguely interested that a man offers it. Asks you what he looks like--i.e. does a man with a lot of hair (like Ari) wax other people or is he rather hairless himself? Ari shivers while considering it and promptly forgets all about it.

Ransom Drysdale

Did the job get done? Fine. Is the guy your only option for someone to wax you? No. Will Ran call your salon and insist you never be booked with the guy (or any guy) again? Yes. Yes he will.

Does Ran tell you he did that? No. Does he care if you know? Also no, but he ain't fucking discussing it. End of story.

Andy Barber

Literally has twelve other things to talk about with you so he doesn't care at all. Would forever prefer enjoying the results then getting hung up on the methods...

Steve Rogers

Has NO IDEA how to respond to that. Has NO IDEA if he should care or be mad or be interested or offer any words whatsoever. Is SO AWKWARD when moving on to another topic of discussion.

Bucky Barnes

Grumpy. First suggests and then insists that he do it for you/help. Verbally observes that it would save money and time to simply do it at home; emotionally unhinged at the wave of possessive rage he feels in the moment. He isn't proud of the response, but he also isn't letting that continue. Full-stop.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would...Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm

[writing-for-marvel]

"I dream of you. all i do, is dream of you."

If I Can’t Have Everything, Then Let Me Just Have You

Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Andy gets jealous of you talking with his colleague, you reassure him he’s everything you’ll ever need.

Warnings: age gap and although exact ages are never mentioned everyone is well and truly of age, jealous Andy

Word count: 700

A/N: this is for @nickfowlerrr’s the seven writing challenge - I spun the wheel for the seven deadly sins and got envy. A big thank you my darling friend @flordeamatista, queen of Andy fics, for not only providing the inspiration for this fic, but helping me with writing Andy for the first time and being my constant cheerleader 🩷 banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

Andy hated attending after work functions with his colleagues. He could barely stand dealing with them during the working week, but then to also be forced to give up his Saturday night so his boss could show off the house his old family money had bought him was another level of torture.

You were his saving grace. Part of him felt guilty for dragging the woman he loved along to these grandstanding cocktail parties where you were forced to make small talk with people you didn’t enjoy the company of, but you were also the only person who stopped him from going completely insane.

But at this moment, while he was stuck hearing about how his boss’s fantasy football team was performing, as if he didn’t hear enough about it at the office, Andy saw red as he was subjected to watch Dylan, the office womaniser, chatting you up.

In the back of his mind he knew with absolute certainty that you wouldn’t cheat on him, but the reason his heart clenched and acidic jealousy bubbled in his stomach was because of what Dylan represented: everything Andy couldn’t offer you.

He wasn’t young anymore, he was well aware the prime of his life was past him at this point in time. He had settled into a comfortable routine which didn’t involve a thriving social life which he remembered having with Laurie when they were your age. He was surely not as flexible or had as much energy as a young man fifteen years his junior.

He wanted to be able to give you the world, but all he had to offer was the trauma developed from his tarnished past, which was still following him around like a shadow, his back problems, wonky knee and the remainder of his life which would be distinctly shorter than Dylan, or someone of his age, could promise to spend with you.

The root of his envy was insecurity.

And he was green with envy.

Excusing himself from the one-sided conversation his boss was having, Andy set off with purpose, making a beeline to you, only to find you were already making your way over to him. Relief eased the tension in his shoulders as your gaze found his and a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“Your colleague, the guy behind me, is a creep.” You commented, hooking your fingers through his belt loops and pulling him protectively into you. Andy leaned down and placed a small, sweet kiss to your forehead, not needing to look behind you to know exactly who you were referring to. A sense of satisfaction filled his chest with the notion that you were clearly averse to Dylan’s pursuits.

“That’s not what most young women around the office think.”

“Well he is.” You stated firmly, a look of disgust flashing over your features. “Why does it take me telling him I have a boyfriend to respect that I’m not interested. Why would I want a boy like him, when I already have a man like you?”

Andy smiled, coming to the realisation that he had no reason to be jealous. Perhaps he couldn’t offer you his callow youth, but he did have maturity and experience, which would surely be much more valuable in a devoted relationship.

“You are a dream come true, you know that?” In response to this you scrunched your nose and smiled in a way that made Andy’s heart fill with pure adoration and devotion.

You truly were all he would ever need for the remainder of his life.

“You’re my dream come true too, Andy.” Standing on your tiptoes, arms sling around his neck, you placed a delicate kiss against his lips, neither of you paying any mind to his colleagues who could be watching on. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

Taking a beat to commit the moment to memory, Andy made a promise to himself that he would never take his second chance at love for granted.

“Let’s go home, handsome.” You suggested, tugging gently on his tie with that mischievous grin which always promised a sinfully pleasurable time. “I have plans for us that definitely don’t involve the rest of you colleagues.”