Kathy's Song A.h.b.

kathy's song — a.h.b.

a/n: this is based on one of the songs mentioned in this interview. the prompt is "it looks like it might rain outside". this is quite self indulgent too because @handfulofhoney and i were discussing andrew and gaming (in great detail mind you!!)

cw: weed

“it looks like it might rain outside,” i point to the window, leaning against his chest. a moment later, i feel smoke caress my earlobe, followed by the familiar earthy, grassy smell. 

he hums, voice deeper than before and right next to my ear. 

“should we do something?”

i turn my face, parting my lips a little so he can place the joint between them. the smoke makes warmth bloom in my chest, a minute late, the familiar calm descends. 

“i was thinking about restarting that zelda game we like so much.”

“oh yeah?”

his chest vibrates when he speaks, scattering goosebumps over my arms. a moment later, the first fat raindrop hits the window. 

“would you play with me?”

“you always chuck the joycons at me when the fights get hard,” he snickers, flicking my nose when i wrinkle it at him. the joint dangles between his lips, smouldering. i can’t resist placing a little kiss on his jaw. 

“because you’re so much better than i am!” i whine. 

“how will you get better if you don’t play!”

“is it not enough that i can sit here and cheer you on?”

we both stare at each other, noses almost touching, my side pressed against his chest and my back resting against his knee. a second later he exhales, blowing smoke all over my face. 

“go on, get it then.” he smiles when i whoop, stumbling off the bed to turn the console on and get the joycons.

a moment later i’m back where i was, slotted between his legs and leaning against his chest. the rain gains speed, more fat raindrops hitting the window. it’s the perfect rhythm, i think. or maybe it’s the weed thinking that, making its way through my bloodstream. the world feels slower, softer around the edges. 

i stare at the colours on the starter screen, mesmerised. 

“that’s you,” he points at the screen. i wrinkle my nose and flick him in the shin. “that pig-like monster?!”

“no, you idiot,” he giggles, kissing the shell of my ear and takes another drag of the joint. i have a sudden and visceral urge to kiss him, to feel that smoke entering my lungs. 

“that old man. you’d love to be unnecessarily cryptic and sit by the fire roasting apples.”

i hmph, unable to contradict really because he is right. a second later he turns my face to his as if he’s read my mind and kisses me. his lips feel warm from the smoke, soft from my lip balm that he keeps stealing. his beard tickles a little and i laugh. 

when he lets go, he holds the spliff in front of my lips, letting me take a small drag. 

the sound of the rain fills the room, along with the click of my joycons. link grunts every few seconds, in the middle of a fight and slashing at enemies left and right with a measly rusty sword. every few seconds he leans and kisses my neck. 

“tickles,” i laugh, “you’re being very distracting.”

“am i? i thought you were a pro at this.”

i briefly let go of the joycons, twisting my hands into his t-shirt and kiss him again. it’s a leisurely, slow kiss—mostly indulgent and lazy and soft. he cradles my face in one hand, holding the joint far away from us so he won’t burn one of us on accident.

a second later a thwack echoes in the room and we break apart, giggling, laughing louder when the ‘game over’ screen blinks at us. 

“look at that, you’ve killed link!” i poke his chest. 

he traces his thumb over my lip, dragging it down and letting it go. “i guess i am being distracting.”

i take the joint from his hands, handing him the controllers in return. “go on. your turn.”

“and what will you do?”

“stare at the rain, i think.”

i look behind me and out the window. it’s raining in sheets by now. so hard i can barely see the neighbour’s house anymore. the trees outside sway lightly, leaves dancing under raindrops. my head feels heavy, so do my eyelids. i could fall asleep like this, cocooned by the warmth of his body and surrounded by his smell. 

“you’d fall asleep,” he catches me instantly. or maybe it’s that my eyelids are already drooping and i’ve turned into a ball against his body. 

“would that be so bad?”

he hums, threading his fingers through my hair, tucking a stray strand behind my ear. i smile at his tenderness. 

“you’ve played two minutes of the game you insisted on playing!”

i pout at him, hoping the big eyes would have some effect on him. a second later he rolls his eyes and tucks my face into his chest. i feel him take the joint out of my hands, put it out in the ashtray on the nightstand. 

“this was your plan from the beginning, wasn't it!”

i shrug, already snuggling into him, as cosy as i can be while he restarts the game, goes through the same motions i was before but at a much faster rate. and even when my eyes close of their own accord, i can tell where he is in the game based on the soundtrack alone. 

“that’s you,” i point blindly at the screen. he pauses. 

“that…apple tree?”

“noooo,” i laugh, properly slurring my words. “link. brave knight rescuing the princess and everything. from nasty boss fights in your case.”

“alright, princess,” he chuckles and kisses the crown of my hair. “go sleep now. i’ll wake you up if something interesting happens.”

everything klaus does is so intricately and vitally intertwined with every single major plot point in the show and yet he is always on some bizarre side quest. simultaneously the most and least plot involved character.

sfw/nsfw headcanons - andrey rublev

warnings: this contains nsfw so if you're not comfortable with it just dont read it !!

notes: i lost the request im so sorry😭 but thank you sm for requesting this one im so happy to finally write for my man

sfw:

- he’s the sweetest ever omfg.

- so clingy !!

- can’t keep his hands for himself istg he ALWAYS has to touch your skin or he’ll go crazy.

- “andrey, there are people here…” “i know, i just wanna feel you” cutie pie.

- he’s so funny, he makes you laugh even when you’re supposed to be serious.

- always telling jokes about other players during tours.

- and we all know that he doesn’t like when members of his family go to see him play, the only exception is you.

- your presence is the only one that he’ll never complain about.

- IN FACT whenever he has to start a match, especially an important one, he always makes sure you’re sitting right next to the court.

- to keep an eye on you.

- he LITERALLY invites you to join him everytime he has to do something with daniil, and he makes sure you’re comfortable.

- boy he’s sweet.

- likes to stroke your cheeks when he kisses you.

- and after kissing he always places one little kiss on you forehead. 🤗

- he takes HOURS to get ready.

- he cares a lot for his appearance.

- especially his hair …

- “andrey, are you ready?” you’d shout from the other side of the apartment. “yeah, just wait…” he’d answer from the bathroom.

- as you’d enter the room you’d find him looking at his reflection on the mirror, fizing his hair.

- “babe, you’ve been standing there for the past half hour, let’s go. they’re waiting for us.”

- “yeah, i’m almost ready.” with a concentrated look on his face he’d fix a stray of hair behind his ear. “okay, let’s go.”

- you’d sigh in a kind way, as he kisses you gently on your lips.

nsfw:

- about his hair…

- he adores when you tug on ‘em making a little pressure.

- he’s a switch i dont wanna argue with anyone.

- when he’s submissive he’s very vocal: a lot of moaning and whimpering and stuff.

- he gets so horny watching you doing everything by yourself, sometimes he’d even stay still and his eyes would be fixed on your body, not moving one inch.

- and goes ABSOLUTE CRAZY when you whisper sweet things in his ear.

- “you’re doing so good baby.” BOY HE’S SHAKING.

- and he just doesn’t have the energy to answer, eyes closed and head completely dizzy.

- “love, you have to use your words f’me, okay?”

- he’d nod in agreement, whispering in a low and tired tone “please… k-keep going…”

- and when he’s a top…

- looooovesss when you grab for his biceps during the initial thrust into you ... sedate me

- and always has to look you in the eyes to be able to tell if everything’s okay.

- but anyway !!

- he’s always hugging you from behind… he knows it gets you so turned on…

- and his fingers would slowly get under your shirt, circling your hot skin.

- “you’re already shaking, and i’m only touching you…” WTF PLEASE I NEED HIM

- he’a an ass guy… big or small he has to touch it !

Hi maybe a fic where Andrey & his Girlfriend are having an Argument and she leaves the tournament to go home to her family for a couple of days and then he surprises her at home where they talk about everything?

an: thanks for requesting!!

Andrey was always a great player but one thing that he felt himself struggling with on court was his mentality. Daniil has always expressed how having his wife near him made him improve in his career. Andrey wanted to share this part of him with you so he invited you to join him in a tournament. 

During the quarterfinals of a major tournament, Andrey was struggling with his second serve. Every missed point or opportunity during a match felt like a dagger leaving a mark on his ego. He was convinced he was getting too distracted. You usually found a spot near the court where you could quietly observe Andrey’s practice sessions. The sun was warm on your skin, and the rhythmic sound of the tennis ball hitting the court became a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. You brought a book, its pages filled with stories that took your mind away to other worlds, yet your attention always drifted back to Andrey. You’d occasionally glance up from the text to watch him, your heart clenching with each frustrated sigh or missed serve. Despite the tension in the air, there was something comforting about being close to him, sharing these silent moments. You also had your phone, where you would scroll through social media, but it was the peacefulness of the garden, the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze, and the distant hum of the city that you found truly enjoyable.

"Andrey, are you okay?" you asked as he stormed off the court, slamming his racket into his bag. He spun around, his eyes blazing. "No, I'm not okay! Why do you always have to be here?"

You blinked, taken aback. "What do you mean? I'm here to support you."

"Support me?" he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "I can't focus with you around. You're distracting me!"

You scrunched your face in confusion. "I’m distracting you? I haven’t done anything. I just watch from the stands. You invited me here. I don’t even talk to you during practice."

"It's not about talking," he snapped. "It's just... your presence. I can't explain it, but it's throwing me off."

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Andrey, I think you're just stressed. This tournament means a lot to you, and you're looking for someone to blame."

"And you're saying it's my fault?" he scoffed, not looking at you.

"No, I'm not!" you exclaimed, your frustration matching his. "I'm saying that maybe the problem isn't me. Maybe it's the pressure you're putting on yourself."

Andrey shook his head, jaw clenched. "You don’t understand. You don’t play. You don’t know what it’s like to have this kind of pressure.”

Your eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "No, I don't play tennis. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand pressure or what it means to support someone you love. I'm here because I care about you. But if my being here is causing you this much stress, maybe I should leave."

"Maybe you should," he muttered, his voice cold. He didn’t expect you to hear him, but when you threw a harsh “Fine,” a part of him wanted to apologize, though another part felt justified.

That night, you packed your bags and left. You didn’t want to leave him but you believed that maybe some space would help him clear his mind and realize you were only there to support him, not distract him. You were lucky enough that the tournament took place not so far from your hometown so you headed to your childhood home. Your parents happily welcomed you but they could see something was wrong between you and Andrey. They didn’t push you to tell them but eventually you did mention that you two got into an argument, reassuring it wasn’t anything too serious. You still watched his matches but your conversations limited to you texting him to inform where you are and that you’re not mad, just thought a break would be the best option. You spent your days peacefully, helping your parents and relaxing. 

Meanwhile, Andrey couldn’t take it any longer. The emptiness he felt without you was unbearable and he followed you as soon as the tournament ended. The sun was setting as he arrived, casting a soft glow on the nature surrounding your childhood house. He felt a mixture of nerves and anticipation as he walked up the familiar path. He felt even more nervous when he spotted your mother - he was almost sure you told her what he had done and now she wouldn’t allow him to talk to you. To his surprise, she invited him “She's in the garden. Go on through”. 

Andrey thanked her and made his way to you. He spotted you sitting on a bench, a book in your hands. Your hair shone in the sunlight, you looked peaceful but only few could notice the hint of sadness in your eyes. He took a moment to compose himself, the view making him calmer, before approaching.

Your glance shifted from the paper to his face, the corners of your mouth slightly went up forming a small smile. Without a word you moved to give him some space to sit. "I was wrong, and I hurt you. I should never have blamed you for my own frustrations." His eyes didn’t dare to look at you and stared at his shaky hands. ”I know I hurt you. I was under a lot of pressure, and I took it out on you. But that’s no excuse. It’s unacceptable. You’re the most important person in my life, and I can't stand the thought of losing you”. 

You looked at him, he was a mess. “Oh come here” your arms wrapped around him thightly, his head buried at the crook of your neck. You gently stroked his back as overpowering emotions hit him causing him to cry. “I mean that with all my heart. I need you. Please forgive me.” you could barely make up the words as he hyperventilated. “It’s alright, don’t worry. I love you.” you said kissing the top of his head.

Little did you know, your parents stood together few meters from you, admiring their favourite couple’s reunion.

May 29, 2024

Posting these because The Victims™ are in our feels about this silly goose, cutie pie, Some Fuckin Guy™

Tom on the rocks