#and neil keeps his hair the color of the team he’s playing for until he retires

[secondtolastart]

Andrew’s hand on the back of his neck pushes down, and Neil goes easily, tipping his head forward and bending down so Andrew can get a good look at his hair.

Bright, vibrant orange. Too bright to really be comfortable, but Neil is learning to stand out in the crowd. He’s going to have to get used to it some time or other.

Orange. Fox orange, the color of his home and his family. Only a few shades and yet miles from his father’s auburn.

Andrew studies it for a long moment, and Neil lets him look his fill.

Finally, his grip loosens. “Obsessive.”

Neil smirks. “You like it.”

[halfpintpeach]

and older raven neil

GONNA GET THIS DONE TODAYYYYYY (I hope lol) Older Raven Neil for WIP Wednesday 8/23/23

Andrew pulls up to a gate on the side of the Fox stadium. The glaring orange is harsh with the setting sun against the building, but Kevin’s spent too long watching and observing the team to have the color affect him. Neil undoes his seatbelt, steps out of the car, and opens Jean’s door. It’s the first thing kind to their injuries he’s offered. None of them are accustomed to kind words and actions. Injuries are one's own and are dealt with that way. 

Jean blinks, the only look of surprise he shows before he scoots out of his seat. Kevin follows, the sun bright on his eyes after driving with the tinted windows. The second the door is shut, Andrew drives off. Kevin watches the black luxury car drive off before the creak of the door pulls his attention back to the stadium. Neil holds the door open, warm fluorescent lighting cuts into the growing darkness of dusk that creeps up from the horizon. 

The lobby of the player's entrances smells like air freshener and stale sweat. Their shoes squeak on the wax linoleum as Neil leads them deeper into the stadium. Voices come from beyond a set of doors, a deep gruff voice rising above them all. 

Kevin’s heart races. He’s seen the coach of Palmetto state from afar. Once he official joined the Raven’s lineup he didn’t join The Master on the trips to the regional banquets across the country. He was only allowed to go to the northeastern banquet along with the rest of the time. Still, Kevin knows what Coach Wymack looks like. 

He’s tall, fit and with broad shoulders. His hair is the same dark brown almost black that Kevin tugs nervously on as they keep walking closer to the doors. Wymack has tattoos that swirl up his forearms, tribal Maori tattoos where the patterns are set together to resemble flames. Kevin knows the loose facts. His mom taught Wymack to play Exy and Wymack fell in love with the sport, there was a fling in there somewhere, and nine months later Kevin was born without a father listed on his birth certificate. He didn’t even know his connection to the Foxes’ coach until a year ago when Neil swiped some documents from The Master’s office from his mother.

Ahead, Neil pushes the doors open. The light is brighter inside the lounge room. Coach Wymack stands in front of a whiteboard hung on the wall and a marker in hand. The Foxes are sitting scattered on the couches and chairs in the lounge room. The smell of sweat and socks is stronger but there’s the comforting menthol scent over it all. Despite the eyes settling on him Kevin feels himself relax being back in a stadium with familiar smells again. 

Wymack’s eyes narrow. “How the fuck did you get in here?”

Keys jingle and Neil twirls a set around his finger. “Doubt my lock-picking ability?”

The Foxes are on edge. Kevin finds their familiar faces from hours sat watching the games on his laptop during the night. Danielle Wilds, the first and only female NCAA Class 1 Exy captain is on the arm on one ratty, old, faux leather couch. Her eyes narrow as she crosses her arms and sweeps her gaze over Kevin and Jean. The other man beside him tenses slightly at the attention and glares set upon them.

“What’s the monster doing here?” One of the current fourth years, a tall lanky man known as Stephan Carter, backliner. 

Neil tucks his hands into his packets and rocks back his heels. “Bringing you a new player.”

The kid looks at Kevin and Jean before turning his eyes to the door. “Not you Raven shit, Minyard.”

You can read the first three chapters here or check out the other snippets posted here :)

[imperfectcourt]

pre canon memory loss au

a twitter thread from last night that i tweaked enough to put here

tw: knives, minor violence, panic reactions

Neil finds himself in a sorry state in Arizona, hurt and hungry and a duffel bag with all the essentials. He assumes he ran away from a shitty home that he can't remember. Probably for the best if these scars are anything to go by...

He enrolls in a school a few towns away and just decides to lay low and coast until he legally turns 18. He lies about his parents so they don’t come sniffing around. He does a daily search for missing kids and he's never there so nobody is looking for him which is a relief. He relaxes. He plays exy.

He keeps the dye and contacts because that's what his ID says. It's just.... easier to go along with for a while. Until he can remember why his id is different from reality. It's fine. He squats in a house and the school has free breakfast so it's fine. His name is Neil and he has no reason to think it might not be (he has every reason). 

When Wymack comes to recruit him he has to hold in his excitement. He recognizes Kevin from his binder and though he doesn't remember being a fan before he's looked up old games and that's Kevin Day and he wants to recruit Neil? It doesn't matter that the foxes are a team or rejects. He can't say yes fast enough.

Andrew is a different problem that he'll deal with later. Drugged off his rocker but less out of his mind than he would have others believe. He's annoying but not enough to stop Neil from moving to Palmetto as soon as possible. 

Thousands of miles has to be enough. No family or authorities ever came looking for him since the day he woke up bloody and concussed in that empty house (and it must have been close to where he fled from. There's no way he could make it so far with a bleeding head wound).

He throws out the dye and contacts and tells Wymack it's just a fresh start. 

Kevin startles when he comes to drag Neil to court but Neil doesn't give him a chance to ask about the change. He wants to see the court. He needs to see the court.

(It's amazing. It's beautiful. It's everything. Andrew says he wants to bash his smile in with his racket and Neil doesn’t care, just says, "Yours, too.") 

They don't talk about it because they're too busy being volatile. Neil can't really stand them but he's too desperate to play every second Kevin lets him all summer long. 

Neil is changing in the shower stall when he hears the cousins speak German and chokes on nothing.

He understood that.

He's never learned something about himself like this. His memory was just.... it was just memory, not knowledge. Why didn't he know he could do that? Why could he do that? Does he speak any other languages? What else is hiding out behind brain trauma and avoidance? 

Whatever. It doesn't matter because it isn't exy. 

In August, his roots become obvious and unsightly. Nicky tugs at his hair and questions his poor fashion taste and offers to help him go back to his natural color.

Neil agrees.

Nicky hugs him and makes a joke that he doesn't understand about going au naturale and then Andrew is there-

"What did I tell you about touching him?"

-He has a knife 

It's small but Neil can't take his eyes off it as it's twisted against Nicky’s shirt. His body won't let him look away.

Kevin, from a distance, tells Andrew to put it away with such authority in the face of violence that Andrew actually complies- not because he was told to but "as a reward for having a backbone," he says. 

Neil finishes zipping his bag and leaves and doesn't question what brought about Kevin's out of character confidence.

After Nicky helps him with his hair, Kevin doesn't come to take him to court for 3 days. Wymack says they're in Columbia which is fine. He doesn't care about not being invited again but he does care about being ghosted when they had plans.

They come back Sunday evening and Andrew corners Neil as he's coming off the court from solo practice. He's off his meds and Neil can feel him like a thunderstorm. He grabs the front of Neil's jersey, slams him onto the bench, and braces a heavy boot by his hip.

For all that he's 5 foot nothing, he looms over Neil like this. There's a fury in his apathetic eyes and honestly? Neil is fascinated and annoyed in equal measures. 

"Is this some sort of pissing contest I'm not aware of?" He asks.

"Is this a fucking game to you?" Andrew counters and Neil isn't quite sure what he's talking about. 

"....Exy?" 

His confusion does nothing to make Andrew back off. Suddenly, Neil finds a knife tip at the apple of his cheek, right over where Kevin has his tattoo 

"Did Riko send you?" 

But Neil can't answer. He can't even think of what Riko has to do with anything. He can only choke around the panic in his throat.

His hands fly from bracing on the bench to Andrew's wrist, all logical thought of "do not touch" gone with his heartbeat. Andrew's grip on his jersey is the only thing keeping him from falling back and braining himself but this knife is overriding every natural reflex and instinct. 

Andrew doesn't budge, the knife never getting any closer than a prick despite the jarring and shoving. Neil's desperate fingers push at him, at his arm bands, catch on something beneath the cloth.

And then he's the one with a knife 

His body remembers what his brain doesn't and suddenly Andrew is the one on the bench, Neil's forearm over his throat and a knife poised at his upper thigh. One good jab there would kill him in minutes. He knows that for a fact. He doesn't know why he knows that. 

Andrew’s own knife at his stomach has him blinking back to himself. One good jab there would not kill him quickly. 

He's up and away in a flash, dropping the knife and himself and skittering away until his back hits the plexiglass of the court. He brings his hands up to claw at his face and finds a smile there of all things. Through the blinding panic he's smiling terribly and he hates it.

"Sorry," he says and it's nearly a laugh. Andrew approaches, puts the 2 knives back in his bands without looking away from Neil. When he gets to him, he grabs him by the hair with one hand and uses his other to pinch his cheeks together hard 

"Shut up." 

"I don't like knives," Neil says.

"Pretty good at them," Andrew points out and it's not a compliment.

"I think that might be why."

"You think?"

It's too crazy to say out loud but maybe he doesn't have to. Fingers in his hair trace over the bumpy scar that started all of this

"You think." It's not a question

[itsthemysterykids]

More heathers au with the rich kids

You have no idea how happy I am right now! 😁

17 year old Dipper Pines just wants to survive his final year of high school with no mishaps, no bullies, no rumors started about him… Is that too much to ask?!

Fortunately, he has his best friend, Neil and his sister, Mabel to get him through it all. They’re just gonna keep watching Disney movies until they graduate

Amongst the assholes, wannabes, clearly drunk teachers, and know-it-alls are the Richies. The three richest and most popular kids in the school

Wybie Lovat is the “nice one”. He’s captain of the baseball team, has a cheerleader girlfriend, and his main color is black. Little does everyone know the guy’s not as happy as everyone believes he is.

Dib is the sarcastic asshole. Always finding new ways to insult you, and he wears designer glasses. His main color is blue. He’s secretly out to take Lili’s spot as leader but until then, he’s stuck as the punchline of her “jokes”.

Lili is the feared, unquestioned leader dressed in magenta and has caught the eye of the football team captain. All she desires is power over the other students… And she has it.

One day, Dipper gets them out of trouble using a perfectly forged hall pass, and they decide to do something for him in return… They make him beautiful.

Now, Dipper is a member of the Richies. He’s upper-middle class, so it’s fine. He does whatever they tell him to, anything to fit in and not get harassed by Coraline and Raz. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that people are starting to check him out. Especially this cute guy with weird hair wearing a red leather jacket

Norman Babcock is the mysterious loner. He’s quiet, poetic, and… Oh yeah, he has a gun. But that’s not gonna come back to haunt us, right?… Right?!

Oh, and there’s Coraline Jones. Wybie’s girlfriend and almost as popular as Lili… Not really though. She loves Wybie but likes high school fame just a bit more, and Dipper seems to be the new “It Boy” (Sorry Coraline fans, but I need a Kurt Kelly! >_<)

Raz Aquato hangs out with the Richies, too, just to flirt with Lili, only to be met with rejection… Although, Dipper’s kinda hot, too

One day, just to be cruel, the Richies have Dipper forge a romantic love letter from Raz to give to Mabel as a prank, inviting her to his party

Of course, Dipper would rather lick the bathroom floor than do that to his sister but the Richies are… Very convincing. See, he can either hang with them in their “Candy Store” and be on top, living the good life and having the sweetest confections. Or, he can be with the peons and suck on stale chips… He wants candy

And after a misunderstanding, two jocks go to teach Norman a lesson… But then Norman pulls out his gun

And all Dipper can think is… “Dayuuuuummmnnn…” (But this is the 80s, so he’s keeping his crush on the down low)

Fast-forward, it’s the night of the party! Yay! Brought to you by Raz Aquato!

Before going, Dipper flirts with Norman at a 7-Eleven, where he extols the virtues of the Slurpee for numbing his grief

Then the party

It’s all going great, everyone’s drinking, making out, partying on the roof, getting high… Then Mabel and Neil show up with sparkling cider

Mabel goes to thank Raz for inviting her even though he didn’t while Dipper feels guilty and the Richies come up with a plan to mess with them

And it involves putting their photos on a piñata and having the two of them hit it. Dipper’s seen enough, grabs the piñata, and throws it in the pool. As it dissolves, hot sauce spreads around the water so he’s really glad he stopped their prank… Until he’s confronted by Lili.

Lili: You were nothing before you met me! You were playing Barbies with Neil Downe! You were a Brownie, you were a Bluebird, you were a Girl Scout Cookie! I got you into a Remington Party! What’s my thanks?… Monday morning, you’re history. I’ll tell everyone about tonight. Transfer to Laika. Transfer to Touchstone. No one at Mystery’s going to let you play their reindeer games…

Drunk out of his mind and angry, Dipper goes to visit Norman… And they play a round of croquet. (No funny business!) Still drunk, Dipper confesses to Norman that he wants the Richies gone, and Norman takes that just a little too literally

The next morning, Dipper goes to Lili’s mansion to… Reluctantly apologize. And she’ll only accept his apology if he fixes her a Prarie Oyster

Norman adds toxic drain cleaner to his mug as a joke, but the mugs accidentally get switched. Norman notices this, but says nothing to Dipper and watches Lili drink the poisoned hangover cure

Lili: *Coughs* Corn… Nuts! *Passes out on the floor and dies*

Dipper: I just killed my best friend!

Norman: And your worst enemy.

Dipper: Same difference!

Dipper panics, his whole future is ruined, but Norman convinces him to forge a suicide note; which paints a more complex, misunderstood version of Lili. And when he does this, Dipper starts seeing Lili’s ghost

Lili’s Funeral

Wybie’s actually grieving while Dib sees an opportunity

Wybie: Oh, God. This is a tragic thing, and sometimes… I have a hard time dealing with it and stuff. Please send Lili to Heaven and all that.

Dib: I prayed for the death of Lili Zanotto many times. And I felt bad every time I did it, but I kept doing it anyway. Now I know you understood everything. Praise Jesus, Hallelujah!

Dipper: Hi, I'm sorry. Technically, I did not kill Lili Zanotto, but hey who am I trying to kid, right? I just want my high school to be a nicer place. Amen… Did that sound bitchy?

A week after the funeral, Dipper tries to get on with his normal life, but he is berated and mocked by Lili's ghost. And on top of that, Dib seems to be getting just a little cocky. He even takes Lili’s ring while he and Wybie are supposed to be cleaning her locker

And to make things worse, Raz and Coraline (To become more popular than Dipper) claim that he tried to make out with both of them after Lili’s funeral, resulting in Wybie punching him in the face

So, Dipper has the genius plan to prank Coraline and Raz with Norman, while also making it so Wybie doesn’t hate him anymore. He and Norman will make it seem like Coraline and Raz were actually in the closet and were too afraid to come out, so they committed s*icide (… IDK)

And this comes with a forged note

The day they go through with their plan, Dipper lures Raz and Coraline into the woods just to “talk things out” when out of nowhere, Norman shoots them down with a gun he told Dipper was loaded with blanks… It wasn’t

They leave the note, flee the scene, and Dipper comes to the conclusion that his boyfriend has a God Complex

At the joint funeral, Mel loudly proclaims she loves her dead lesbian daughter

Dipper is considering cutting off all ties with Norman, but this guy just knows all the rights words to say and convinced Dipper to stay with him. But Dipper has given him an ultimatum: Give up violence and live a normal life with him or lose him forever. Norman agrees and they reconcile

Then at school, Mabel reels Dipper she and Neil suspect Norman of murdering Coraline and Raz, believing Raz’s "love note" is proof. Dipper, urged on by Lili’s ghost, confesses that she forged the note to humiliate Mabel, who runs off in tears

It’s another day at school, Dib is the new HBIC, and Wybie is trying to not break down crying… There’s also an assembly put together by Ford to stop the “suicide epidemic” by engineering a big public Kumbaya spectacle to encourage students to let down their guards

And it goes well… Until Wybie confesses that he’s thought about killing himself

Wybie: … The last girl I made out with killed herself because she was actually a lesbian. And my best friend seemed to have it all together but now she's gone too. And now my stomach hurts worse and worse and every morning on the bus I feel my heart beating louder and faster and I'm like, ‘Jesus I'm on the frickin' bus again because all my rides to school are dead!’

After a long rant, Dib humiliates Wybie in front of the other students and he runs away in tears, to the bathroom… With pills.

Dipper walks in before he can get off the cap

Wybie: Suicide is a private thing.

Dipper: You're giving your life away to become a goddamn statistic in U.S. Fucking A Today. That's got to be the least private thing I can think of.

Wybie: But what about Lili, Coraline, and Raz?

Dipper: If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?

Wybie: … Probably.

Dipper: Hey now, if you were happy every day of your life, you wouldn't be a human being, you'd be a game show host.

Dipper finally breaks up with Norman. It’s easy when he accidentally points his gun at him, and gets on with his life… Let’s see how Mabel and Neil are doing… Not great. Also, Norman blackmails Dib into making the student body sign a “petition”

Mabel, feeling as though Dipper has abandoned her, jumps off a bridge, but survives. Dipper rushes to the hospital when he hears this from Dib, who tried to get him and Wybie to sign the “petition” but Dipper’s suspicious when he hears it was Norman’s idea

When he returns home, he’s spiraling and has a weird nightmare where Norman kills Dib. And when he wakes up, he hears Norman trying to break in and remembers the “petition”. Wanting to hear what this is about, Dipper fakes his s*icide by pretending to hang himself

When Norman comes in his room and sees his “dead boyfriend,” he, in tears, reveals the petition, signed by every student, is actually a mass s*icide note — along with his plans to blow up the pep rally and make it look like a mass s*icide. Grief stricken, he leaves to go through with his plan

It’s a race against the clock for Dipper so he can stop Norman. When he finds out he’s in the boiler room, he confronts him in the boiler room, but in their struggle, Norman is shot.

Unable to disarm the bomb, Dipper lugs it outside onto the football field, far away from the school…

Dipper: Dear Diary, the irony in all of this is that I never got to write my own s*icide note.

Then Norman arrives and convinces him to let him take the bomb. The two share one last kiss before Dipper runs away and the bomb explodes, killing Norman

Returning to school, Dipper takes the ring from Dib and ends the era of social ridicule. He invites Mabel, Neil and the 2 remaining Richies to hang out, rent a movie, and be kids before childhood is over

[kevindayisafrog]

Part 2 of the post that was supposed to be a one shot inspired by @knandersonart ‘s art on Instagram (I have too many ideas for it to be left as a one shot, babe, I’ve got a whole book planned)

TW - abuse, anxiety and mentions of Dr*ke

Kevin had been at Palmetto for over a year now; alone and in fear. He tried hard to fit in with the upperclassmen but his short temper and constant panic left a huge gap between them that no one had tried to fill. He tried to get close to his father too but he knew that he’d never be able to tell him who he really was to him; he knew that his dad would only turn him away like Riko said. Kevin tried to keep in contact with Neil but their texts and calls had gone from one a day to one every few months. Everything was falling apart and all Kevin could do was watch as he fought like hell to climb back to the top. And the top is where he is now, but this time the podium he’s standing on is for him only, Riko can’t pull him down. Until Kevin’s alone with his thoughts, then he remembers how small he is against Riko’s power and ruthless abuse. Kevin felt himself slip further into the darkness around him when the championships were announced, something to finally concentrate on and a place where he’ll finally be with his Neil again; even if they’ll be against each other.

Kevin stared blankly at the empty bus seat in front of him as he sat at the back of bus alone; distantly listening to the upperclassmen’s idle conversation as the foxes made their way to the banquet. He couldn’t sit still as fear warred with excitement in his tight chest. He placed his AirPods in and called Neil, knowing that he’d see him in less than an hour but couldn’t wait to hear his voice. He grumbled to himself when it went to the voicemail and hung up, choosing to listen to his music instead as he watched the scenery pass by in a colored blur through the window.

Kevin was last off the bus and he stood behind the other foxes as Wymack opened the storage compartment on the coach, passing their outfits to each player. Matt tossed Kevin his dark green suit before turning back and catching his own suit before it hit the ground. “Jesus, Coach, this cost me a lot of money”, Matt smiled despite his words and smoothed down his suit. Wymack retorted dryly but Kevin didn’t hear what was said as he already turned and made his way towards the stadium; his body buzzing with a distant memory of Neil’s body close to his. He pushed his way into the locker room with a sign reading: ‘Palmetto Foxes’ written in black sharpie. He quickly threw on his suit with his back to the others, ignoring Nicky’s wolf whistle as he moved to the mirror to smooth down his forest green blazer. “Where are you going, hot stuff?”, Nicky winked with a laugh as Aaron groaned and turned away from his cousin. “I’ll be on the court”, Kevin muttered as he left the locker room and walked as fast as he could to the court. It pained him to see a perfect court being used as a dance floor and dining area, but he wasn’t here to be disgusted. He opened the court door as he felt a stern hand on his shoulder causing him to flinch and duck down. “Don’t worry, it’s only me”, Wymack pulled Kevin back up and turned him so that they were facing each other, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay before you walk into the lion’s mouth”. Kevin looked up into his father’s eyes and blushed in embarrassment at the raw worry that he saw. “I’ll be fine as long as we’re not near Riko or Tetsuji”, he wrung his hands together and tapped his foot impatiently. “I’ll keep an eye on you, kid and if you’re worried in any way come straight to me, okay?”, Wymack gave a fierce squeeze of Kevin’s shoulder before pushing him through the door. Kevin turned away and made his way over to where the seating charts were. He ran his finger down the sheet until he found the Foxes’ name and made his way to the back table, freezing as Riko stood from their shared table. “Kevin, welcome home”, Riko announced in Japanese, spreading his arms in a vicious gesture of a hug. Kevin gulped and clenched his hands before taking a deep breath and making his way over to the table. “Riko”, he muttered as he sat down opposite Neil, relaxing as Neil wrapped their ankles together, “the rest of my team are just coming”. Riko barked a shrill laugh as he sat down and leaned towards Kevin, “me and Jean were just talking about how we’re surprised you guys made it into the championships, what with your small number of players”. Jean looked up and sent Kevin a subtle shake of his head, mouthing a small ‘I’m sorry’. Kevin sent a small smile back before turning to Neil, ignoring Riko’s annoyed frown. “Hi”, he whispered, running his ankle up to Neil’s thigh. “I’ve missed you”, Neil replied in French, reaching down and squeezing Kevin’s ankle under the table. “Hmmm, so we’re doing this now? Speaking other languages so I won’t understand”, Riko nodded slowly before laughing and curling a large smile, “your mother would be so disappointed in your disobedience. If you’d shut up we’d all hear her turning in her grave. Even though we’re so far away from her”. Kevin tensed and clenched his jaw, trying not to give Riko the satisfaction by showing his anger.

“Riko, it’s so lovely to meet you, Dan Wilds”, Dan led her team to the table and scraped her chair back, sitting down with her hand extended to Riko. Riko looked at her hand in disgust before shaking it with a fake smile, “I hope you’re looking after my Kevin for me”. Matt sat beside Dan and laughed sarcastically, “he’s not yours anymore, he’s ours”. Riko dropped Dan’s hand onto the table with a thud and turned to Kevin, “weren’t you just telling me how much you hated this team and that they’ll never win the championships?”. Kevin sat up straighter and smiled, “no, I wouldn’t say that and do you know why, Riko? Because although these aren’t the best players, they’re the strongest I’ve ever met. They use their teamwork to push back and fight to win their deserved place at the top. You won’t be smiling so wide when we beat you and win the championships”. Riko’s smile fell and he grabbed Kevin’s left wrist in an iron grip, “don’t fucking push me tonight, remember that you’re my pet. I won’t hesitate to put you down, do you hear me? One wrong move and I’ll bring your whole team down with you, see if you’re so brave then”, he growled in rapid Japanese. Nicky looked between the two before placing his hand over Riko’s and digging his nails in deep, “I’d advise you to take your hands off of him or I’ll break it off”. Kevin turned to Nicky in surprise and was shocked enough to let his long lost genuine smile get plastered across his face. Riko pulled his hand away and glared at Kevin, “you’ve deluded these jokes into thinking that they’re better than they are. You’re getting cocky, Kevin, what will you do when they turn you away like they inevitably will?” Andrew elbowed Neil to get him out of the way and leant on Neil’s hunched back, “now, now, Riko, let’s not throw your toys out of the pram. I told you what I’d do if you messed with my family, do you really want to test my word?”. Riko tensed and slowly turned to face Andrew, “One more word, Andrew and I will get an old friend over to play with you. Drake must miss you”. Andrew flinched at the name and let out a long medicated laugh, “try me” he growled. Neil shouldered Andrew off and stood up, ignoring Riko’s glare, “I’m going to the bathroom, try and fucking stop me”. The foxes watched in silence as Neil left the room without a single glance back to the table. “Your pets aren’t as loyal as you thought, are they?”, Dan asked and she tapped her nails against her glass, “must suck when everyone turns their back on you”. Riko growled in annoyance, hating how he’d lost control of the situation and his words were thrown back at him. Kevin stood up quickly, knocking his chair onto the floor with a loud clatter as he left the table, half running to the bathroom and ignoring Wymack’s shouts of concern.

“Neil?”, Kevin called into the seemingly empty bathroom, pushing open the stool doors slowly. “I really did miss you”, Neil walked around from the corner of the room and stood on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Kevin’s neck, “I actually missed your irritating shouting and obnoxious presence on the court”. Kevin let out a small huff as he brought their lips together, smiling into the kiss of ‘hello’. “I hate you”, he whispered into the kiss, knotting his fingers in Neil’s orange hair. “Sure you do”, Neil replied, purring as Kevin tugged lightly on his hair. Kevin pulled away first and stared down into the ocean blue eyes before him, the auburn eyelashes fluttering his eyes back open. “Neil”, Kevin started but Neil let go and walked away to the sinks, “please just hear me out”. Neil sighed and turned on the tap, “Kevin, not now, can we just have this moment? Stop trying to ruin everything”. Kevin frowned and followed Neil, leaning his hip beside him at the sink, “I don’t ruin everything”, he muttered. Neil placed his hands under the tap, refusing to look up at his pouting boyfriend, “you know that’s not what I meant”, he sighed and dropped his hands to the bottom of the sink, “I can’t come back with you”. Kevin groaned in annoyance and pushed off of the sink, pacing his way back to the stools, “why not? Why the fuck not, Neil? Nothing is stopping you and even if something was you wouldn’t care anyway”. Neil turned the tap off and slammed his hands against the ceramic, “for fuck’s sake, Kevin, are you being obtuse on purpose? If I could go, I would. Do you think that I enjoy the nest? Do you think I like you being so far away from me? Because I fucking don’t, it’s hell”. Kevin laughed flatly and crossed his arms, half turning away, “you can come with me, you just don’t want to”. Neil pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed heavily, “why do you always twist things? Listen to me”, he dropped his hands and marched over to Kevin, pulling his arms apart forcibly, causing him to flinch, “listen, I hate not being without you, okay? And I know it makes you cringe when people talk like this, but I can’t live without you and I hate to admit, I really do, but I need you. I’m trying so hard to get out of there so you’re not alone anymore and Andrew’s helping too. We’re so close to getting out, we just need to be patient and wait a little longer before we can be with each other again, okay?”. Kevin dropped his head and Neil stood on his tiptoes so their foreheads could touch. “I hate being alone”, Kevin whispered, “I’ve never been alone before. When my mom found out who Tetsuji really was, who his family were, she exiled us to Ireland and never let me leave her sight. She took me everywhere with her, not even trusting teachers to look after me at school. But she left to go to the shops in the next town whilst I was sleeping and Tetsuji paid people to stage a fatal car accident. After that day I was with Riko and he wouldn’t let me leave his sight either, so I don’t know what to fucking do. I’ve never been alone before”, he sniffed and let out a small whimper. Neil gently placed his hands either side of Kevin’s face and placed a small kiss on the tip of his nose, “you’re not alone, I’ll never let you go”. Kevin lifted his head and turned to look away, “but you are leaving me alone”. Neil shook Kevin’s head and pressed his own head against Kevin’s ribs, “I’m trying, I really am”.

They stood in silence as Kevin hesitantly wrapped his arms around Neil’s shoulders. “I know you are, I’m sorry, I’m just scared”, he placed a gentle kiss atop Neil’s head and rocked him side to side slowly. Neil hummed and looked up, taking in his boyfriend’s worry filled eyes, “that color looks good on you”. Kevin frowned and looked down at his suit, “I wanted to wear red but I don’t really suit it”. Neil snorted and pulled away, turning to walk to the bathroom door, “you suit red, Kevin, trust me”. Kevin watched as Neil left the bathroom with a wink and couldn’t help but feel alone once again, a heavy feeling weighing on his chest. “Thank you”, he whispered with a small smile to the space Neil left behind as Riko kicked open the door with two broad shouldered Raven players behind him.

[harringrovetrashrat]

bodyswap au

This turned into... something.  Dunno why, but it just needed to happen this way, lolololol

Hope you enjoy, yo!!!!! <3

When Hopper arrived at the station, he was hoping for a quiet morning of coffee, contemplation, and sneaking some donuts that El would definitely be mad at him about later.  No donuts.  Doctor said less sugar.  He appreciated the care, but also he wasn’t going to stop eating donuts.  Not with the world being as weird as it was.

But when he walked in, Flo had a look on her face that made him want to turn right around and leave.

“You have visitors,” she spat out.  “I’ve never known the Harrington boy to be so rude--”

“Thank you, Flo,” Hopper said, cutting her off before she got started.  “Why don’t you take an extra break and get yourself something from Melvads?” He grabbed his wallet, putting a five on the table in front of her.  “On me.” She eyed him warily but snatched it up and grabbed her purse.  He gave her a smile that wasn’t more than his lips stretched into a line, before grabbing a cup of coffee.  He downed one, ignoring how it burned his tongue and the roof of his mouth, then poured another.  Harrington being rude?  It meant something was up.  Bratty, sure.  Snarky, probably.  But rude?  Not with the parents he had.

When he walked into his office, Hopper paused.  Billy sat in a chair next to Steve, legs crossed at the knee as one foot bounced nervously and he chewed on his lip.  Next to him was Steve, legs spread wide, slouched in the chair, chewing on his cuticle aggressively.  When they heard the door open and close, they turned, both speaking at the same time.

“Hop, you’re not gonna believe this--”

“Some seriously fucked up shit is going on in this fucking town--”

The words came out of the wrong mouths.  Billy looked at Hopper, eyes big and innocent in a way he’d never seen on the kid.  And Steve looked like he’d stepped in dog shit, nose scrunched and mouth turned down.  They spoke over each other, making Hopper rub his temples as he sat down heavily in his chair.

He was getting too old for this shit.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he said, voice loud.  The boys’ mouths snapped shut, Billy looking sheepish and Steve clenching his jaw and looking away.  “One at a time, please.” He lit a cigarette, taking a deep inhale.  He exhaled slowly, letting the nicotine calm his jitters, before looking back at the two teens.  “Steve,” he gestured to the boy.  “You first.”

Billy started talking.

“So when I woke up this morning--”

“I said Steve,” Hop said, cutting him off.

“I am Steve,” the blonde replied.  Hopper stared at him before taking another long drag off his cigarette and a large gulp of his coffee.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice calmer than he’d thought it would be.  “You’re who?”

“I’m Steve,” Billy, no, Steve, said again.  “I woke up this morning in Billy’s body, in his bed, in his house.” He could see it now.  Had seen it before but couldn’t place why.  The way Billy ran a hand through his hair and gestured wildly.  The way Steve was silent and taking up space with a large scowl.  They weren’t themselves.  Because they were each other.

“Okay,” Hopper said once the boys had explained.  “So last night you two had a fight in the woods.” He gave them both a stern look, getting rolled eyes and a sheepish grin in response.  “And,” he rubbed his forehead, eyes wide as he tried to wrap his head around whatever the fuck was happening, “This lady came out of a tree,” he closed his eyes, inhaling sharply, “And said she was cursing you until you admit the truth.” The two boys nodded and Hopper felt himself age 10 years.  “It ended the fight and you both went to your respective homes and woke up,” he sighed, “Like this.”

“Yeah,” Billy replied, twisting Steve’s face into an annoyed grimace.  “That’s what we fucking said.”

“I need you to turn the attitude down about 10 notches,” Hopper snapped.  Billy just sank lower in the seat.  “This is a lot to wrap my head around, so excuse me for making sure I got the facts right.” Billy scoffed, but there was a flush to his cheeks.  Well, Steve’s cheeks.  Steve was a blusher, Hopper knew.  Boy turned red and clammy when he tried to lie.  His skin was pale enough that any color stood out.

Hopper wondered if Billy even realized.

“What do we do?” Steve asked.  The genuine concern coming out of Billy’s mouth was weird, but at this point, weird was normal and normal was a distant, fond memory.  Hopper sighed, pushing back a little and rubbing his hand across the stubble on his chin.

“Well, you admit the truth, whatever that is.”

“Fucking obviously,” Billy snapped.  He slid down a little at Hopper’s warning stare.  “But she didn’t give us any idea of what the truth even was.”

“Well, what were you two fighting about?” Steve and Billy looked at each other and shrugged.

“I mean, it just kinda started?” Steve said, voice going up at the end.

The two of them had been tousling since Billy had arrived.  The amount of times Hopper was called to basketball practice, or the park, or the arcade, were innumerable.  And they didn’t even seem to know what they were fighting about.  They just got under each other’s skin, he guessed.  Billy knew how to needle and jab until a person snapped, and Steve was as bratty as they came, though he had gotten better since the whole monsters thing.  Billy had too, for that matter.  They should have been friends.  It wasn’t like they didn’t get along at all.  They were a good team, capable, and he trusted them with El.

So it made no sense for them--

Oh.

Hopper pursed his lips.  Thought back to their fights, really thought.  Remembered the way Billy would watch Steve like a hawk, eyes always on him.  The way Steve never stopped talking about Billy, even if it was to complain.  Thought about how it wasn’t right for boys to be physical with each other unless it was a fight.

Thought about Neil Hargrove and John Harrington and their bullshit.

“Can I ask you two something?” He sniffed, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth as he tapped on his desk anxiously.  “And I want an honest answer.” He looked at them, face grim and serious.  They stared back, equally wary and confused.  “Why do you keep fighting?” Neither of them replied, just shrugging and not looking at each other.

“Just, I dunno, just ‘cause?” Billy said, poking at the desk with his foot.

“Yeah, you know, rough housing,” Steve said.  Billy nodded, like he was convincing himself that was only what it was.  “Boys being boys and all that.”

“Sure,” Hopper said.  “That’s a reason.  But I don’t think that’s why you two are doing it.” He leaned back in his chair.  Steve’s eyes darted to Billy and back, panicked.  Billy didn’t look up, but he was tense.  Long fingers curled into a cashmere sweater, ready for fight or flight.

Hopper knew he wasn’t approaching this right.  Knew he was in some dangerous territory.  But this was some fairy tale shit, so it probably had a fairy tale ending.

He honestly hoped the boys liked each other like he thought, or his suggestion was going to get him way more grief than he’d like.

“What do you think?” Billy’s voice was as tense as he was.

“I think,” Hopper said, trying to keep his voice soft and without judgement, “That fighting is an excuse.  I think that you two like each other a lot more than you let on.” Billy stood, chair squeaking as it scrapped on the floor.  Steve’s knuckles were white against the denim on his legs.

“I don’t know what you think you’re playing at--” Billy’s voice was shaking.

“I think you both know exactly what I’m saying,” he said, cutting Billy off.  “And I’m not--” He struggled to find the right words.  “Look.  I don’t care whether you two like each other or not.  It makes no difference to me.  But I know that there aren’t many ways to show that.  Not when it’s two men.” Both of them were sweating and tense and Hopper didn’t know what to say to fix it.  “I think you two would rather date each other than fight, but don’t know how to say that to the other person.”

“Wh-What?” Steve laughed, all nerves.  “There’s no-- Billy’s not-- I mean, I’m not--”

“That’s a real riot,” Billy said, mean and scared.  “A real laugh riot, Chief.”

“Listen!” Hopper boomed, tired of it.  Tired of magic and weird and bullshit.  The boys’ both stopped talking, staring at him.  “I said honest answers.  This lady saw you two fighting in the woods, right?  Fighting over nothing.  Fighting as an excuse to get close.” They opened their mouths but he held his hands up.  “Why would she say you needed to tell the truth.  Why did she put you into each other’s bodies?” This made them both relax, made them think.  “This is all some weird high fantasy, sci-fi shit.  I don’t understand it.  But what I do understand is finding excuses to be near someone you shouldn’t want to be near.” They looked at each other and Hopper felt the energy between them shift.  They locked eyes and didn’t move.

“I--” Steve stuttered.  “I--”

“Be honest with each other,” Hopper said.  “And maybe you’ll see some changes.” The look the boys shared got more intense and Hopper didn’t want to witness them being honest.  Whatever that would entail.

“I’ll call the school, get you guys out for the day.  Go to Steve’s and talk.  But get out of my office.” With a nod, and not even a spare glance to Hopper, the boys left.  Hopper rubbed a hand over his face before holding his head in his hands.

When he got a call that afternoon, confirming that Everything has gone back to normal, well, except…you know, he allowed himself an extra donut.  Because he fucking deserved it.

[neil-jortson]

It’s only a matter of time

This is a hc about what I think would happen to the foxes in quarantine. I made this as a part of the gift exchange from @aftgexchange for the Tumblr user @wishbonetea . It was an awesome experience to do this exchange and I hope to do it again! 

Summary: a collection of ideas about how the foxes lives would have to adapt during quarantine 

word count: 2k 

The foxes in quarantine: a bullet point fic 

The year is 2020. Matt, Kevin, Andrew, and Neil are all professional exy players. Neil and Andrew fought hard and finally got put on the same team that past season.

Dan is an assistant coach for a college team in the same city that Matt plays in. Nicky lives in Germany with Erik and Aaron is just finishing up his residency in medical school. Allison is a major fashion designer who donates more money than she keeps. Renee works with the peace corp and is currently out of the country. Everything is good. 

Dan and Matt are expecting their first child in less than two months and are trying to clean up the spare room to begin making a nursery for the baby. 

On the tv in another room plays a news reporter talking about a virus on the horizon in China. They don’t think much of it and continue about their days.

Andrew and Neil lived a fairly domestic life, one they never thought they would live, with two cats and a nice set of kitchen knives. (They were a house warming present from Aaron: “it’s ironic” he would say when asked why he purchased the set.) 

When Andrew and Neil heard about the novel virus, they simply changed their in-depth arguments about a zombie outbreak to arguments on what to do in the event the virus becomes a big deal. Little did they know some of their “predictions” would turn out to be correct. 

Everyone went about their normal lives just keeping an eye on the news before things seemed to change at the drop of a hat. The country was shutting its borders and not allowing flights in from other countries. There was even talk of cities going into lockdown. 

Renee was trying to catch a flight home with the rest of her crew. When she made it back into the states, she found she had nowhere to go. Allison invited her to stay at her apartment in NYC. She was not aware of how long they were going to be stuck there (not that Allison was against sharing an apartment with a beautiful girl like Renee). 

It became more real to the rest of them as the Exy season was postponed until further notice. 

Kevin didn’t know what to do with himself and Neil. Was. Devastated.

It was only a matter of days before they began to get antsy about not going to the court daily. Neil and Kevin had shared anxious words as they hadn’t heard what the Moriyamas would think about them not receiving the normal amount of money this season. Andrew tried to put their minds at ease, but with no words of communication from the crime syndicate, they were getting worried. 

Dan and Matt were probably the most stressed of the bunch. The information they had gathered was that most of the Foxes were in good shape to handle the virus even if they were to get sick, but there wasn’t any data on how the virus would affect pregnant women. Dan feared for the health of the baby because of this uncertainty. She and Matt decided that they would follow the government regulations for quarantine and that when groceries needed to be picked up, Matt would be the one to go out and get them. 

Wymack’s thoughts were focused on his foxes and how they would be affected by the pandemic. He thought of Matt and Dan bringing a baby into the world at an unlikely time. He thought of Andrew and Neil who never could commit to quitting smoking (even if Neil just liked the smell). He worried about Aaron working in a hospital. For Nicky's mental health while being stuck at home and away from people. He worried that Kevin would start drinking again without the regime of Exy to keep him on track. He was concerned about Renee and Allison living in one of the worst cities to be stuck in when a pandemic hits. He thought about every person he had had as a fox before them and after them. He spent most of his time checking up on the foxes and the other portion of his time reaching out to organizations to see what they needed. He volunteered when he could and spread the word when he couldn’t. 

As the foxes settled into their lives stuck at home and thousands of miles apart from one another, things settled into a new normal. 

Andrew and Neil lived in quiet harmony when the quarantine first began. Neil went running every morning in a park that was not very crowded and when he would come home he would head straight to the shower. Eventually, Andrew convinced him to buy a treadmill because he was worried about Neil getting sick. Although, the way that he phrased it, it would seem he didn’t care either way. (Neil saw right through him)

Life for them was simple but draining. 

The longer the quarantine went on, the worse off Neil and Andrew became. 

Andrew found himself talking more and more with Betsy as being stuck at home was leaving him alone with his thoughts more than he would like. He felt old emotions creeping to the forefront of his mind as he was stuck in a two-bedroom apartment with two cats and a man he “hated.”  

Being stuck at home for Neil was his own personal hell. He paced around the apartment often and felt no true release from running on the treadmill. Neil felt the same way he did when his mom and he were snowed in at a safe house in the mountains. He walked to the corners of each room and took stock of the items in the home. He felt himself get more and more on edge as the days went by. 

Dan and Matt were better off when it came to mental health. It also helped that they tried not to take out their worries on one another, they were a team. They enjoyed each other's company and would try to hang out on opposite sides of the house as much as possible. They knew when they started to push each other's buttons and would back off when they started going too far. 

Matt knew that Dan felt bad about not being able to leave the house so he got a kiddy pool for her to sit in outside. It wasn’t much, but Dan enjoyed the fact that Matt was thinking of her when he went out shopping. They spent many afternoons sitting in the tiny pool that barely fit them and laughing at the different antics of their crazy neighbors that day. 

Nicky got a hold of everyone's schedule and decided that they should do group facetime calls every week. It was really hard to find a good time because everyone lived in different time zones and Aaron had a rotating doctor’s schedule, but Nicky was able to find 45 minutes a week when everyone was awake and not at work. 

Dan and Matt had finally found proper places to put all of the items that had been in the nursery and were just beginning to start the vacuum cleaner when they heard an alarm go off on Dan’s phone. 

It was time for them to talk with their old team. 

Everyone slowly joined the call and Nicky was just as enthusiastic in welcoming every person who joined. 

Nicky was especially delighted when Kevin answered the call and the foxes came to find out his hair had grown out longer than he ever let it before. (He claimed it wasn’t professional to have longer hair but he looked better than ever with the length.)

When Allison joined the call, some of the foxes were surprised to see Renee sitting right beside her. Renne’s hair had grown out and Dan noticed that there was a distinct line from where she had been bleaching her hair

Dan asked, “Hey Renee, what are you going to do with your hair?”

Renee responded with “I’m really not sure yet, but I think I want to grow it out with my natural color”

Allison whispered something in Renee's ear and she blushed. 

All of the foxes took notice of this and decided that maybe it was time to settle one of the few remaining bets from college. 

Neil and Andrew were the last to join the call and they seemed pissed off. Right before they noticed they were a part of the call, they seemed to be arguing in Russian. They quickly noticed they were on camera and stopped arguing but they wouldn’t really look at one another. 

Nicky asked them how they were doing which Neil responded with “We’re fine” and Andrew scoffed at the word. 

Nicky knew better than to dig around in their personal business so he let it drop and began to ask Aaron and Katelynn how their dog was, was it still cute, can they show it on the camera? 

They responded by turning the camera to let everyone see the sleeping puppy at the edge of their bed. This answered two of the questions because as everyone could see, the dog was still very cute. They told them about a run into the vet they had to make because “the little fiend” has a knack for eating things he’s not supposed to. 

Dan and Matt told everyone how the pregnancy was going and told them the tale of woe trying to find the perfect crib for the baby’s room. 

“When it arrived, we opened up the package and it was bright green! Who in their right mind is going to put their baby in a bright green crib? It’s ridiculous is what it is” complained Matt when Dan had finished telling them how long the package had taken to arrive. 

While everyone was talking Andrew and Neil had seemed to calm down and Neil had placed his head on Andrew’s shoulder. Things weren’t always sunshine and daisies but they weren’t really mad at each other when they fought. 

After everyone had caught up there was a lull in the conversation that Neil began to fill. He told them about the time they had to rescue King Fluffkins. They had gotten King recently just a few months prior to the quarantine coming into effect. This was the first time that the team had heard Neil say the words “King Fluffkins” out loud. It is needless to say that they laughed for a long while hearing Neil say the ridiculous name the team had given to their cat. When they calmed down they listened to Neil explain how King had gotten out of the window they kept partially open for smoking. Andrew had to hold on to Neil’s waist as Neil propelled himself out the window to get a hold of the cat at the edge of the window sill. King had dug her claws in and Neil almost fell out of the window. They got her inside but put a lock on the window to ensure she didn’t make her way out there again. 

That story pushed their time to when they needed to say goodbye. Aaron’s shift started in under an hour and he needed to get to work. They all said their goodbyes and set up a time for the following week. 

It helped everyone to talk amongst themselves and to hear what had been going on while they were at home. They were all worried about what was going on, but it seemed as though they were becoming more connected, even across the vast distance. 

It was only a matter of time before this came to pass and Neil and Andrew would get to see Dan and Matt’s baby. 

It was only a matter of time before the exy season started up once more and the Moriyamas demanded a larger cut from Neil’s salaries for the break he was on during the pandemic. 

It was only a matter of time before Nicky could come and visit the twins for Christmas. 

It was only a matter of time before all of the foxes felt their lives returning to a slightly new normal. 

It was only a matter of time.

[captain-danwilds]

I’ve been waiting for so long (to feel like I’m home)

A RBB 2021 Fic  AO3 Accompanying Art by @mareofthesky​

Summary: Palmetto Public Hospital was just supposed to be another meaningless stop in Neil Josten's life.  He doesn't have a reason to keep running to a new hospital every few months, but that doesn't mean he's learned how to stay.  And there's something about the rest of the staff on the burn ward that makes him want to try, especially the physical therapist. 

This fic was written for the 2021 AFTG Reverse Big Bang. Thank you @gluupor for organizing! I had the joy of being paired with @mareofthesky. She’s absolutely incredible, both as an artist and as a human being. I seriously couldn’t ask for someone better.   

This work takes place in a hospital in pre-COVID times.  I am not a nurse, doctor or physical therapist, let alone a burn survivor.  I do not know everything they go through.   I’ve tried to be as accurate as possible, but recognize that I’m going to be wrong about some things.  There’s only so far research can take you.

While I don’t think this work is more graphic than canon, it does deal with some distressing stuff, namely: burns, blood, hospitals, child abuse, violence, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, torture, mutilation of corpses (referenced) and Baltimore references.  

Nathaniel Wesninski was thirteen when his mother almost died.  

In another universe, this would have been the thing that killed her.  She would have gotten her hands-on fake passports and they would have traveled across Europe until he was fourteen and Stefan got shot in Germany.  But they would have still ended up in Seattle, her blood spilling on the leather seat as her son drove down the coastline.  

In this world, their plans to head to Europe fell through quickly.  There hadn't been a couple million dollars to pave the way, just two desperate souls fleeing in the night because Nathaniel couldn't live up to the standards his father set for him.  

Nathan Wesninski was the head of his own empire, eager for his son to take over.  There was no Yakuza demanding a show of loyalty.  If Nathaniel had shown promise, he would have been able to take over the family operation.  

The problem was, in both worlds,  Nathaniel hadn't shown promise.  It took years for him to learn how to watch his father butcher a man without crying.  He could never master Lola's style of knife play, refusing to draw out the pain any more than strictly necessary.  As he got older, his eyes would go stony, his hands moving automatically.   But he was moving through water.   He barricaded himself into his own head so that he didn't register the stickiness of the blood on his hands until he'd left the basement.  The sound of screams became so ubiquitous, he could tune it out.   There was no joy, certainly no drive to continue the Butcher's legacy.  

He had merely nodded when his father had announced he expected Nathaniel to take care of the traitor in his ranks.  He kept his feet trained on the floor, on the puddles of blood slowly inching toward the central drain.  

But Mary saw the gleam on her husband's face, the unspoken or else.  She also happened to know the traitor in question.   One of the servants who liked to sneak Nathaniel snacks while he worked on his homework.  There was no way that Nathaniel could force himself to do it.  He'd be left with new scars if he was lucky.   Knowing her husband and his current frustration over territory losses, Nathaniel wasn’t going to be lucky.

So she'd grabbed what she could, contacted the few contacts she had with her family that could do good work for cheap and escaped into the night.  

When they met Nathan and his ilk in Seattle, they had only been on the run for three years.   Linda and Alex, their 8th set of names, had settled into the type of neighborhood where no one noticed another kid with desperation in their eyes, where no one had the energy to poke into anyone else's business during the break between second and third jobs.   Alex was fine, good at following orders, a natural at stitches.  He could blend in just fine, answer questions the right way, but he certainly wasn't ready to start out on his own.  

For every time they successfully changed identities, he complained about not joining the track team or jostled against the restrictions of coming home directly after school without hanging on the monkey bars or meeting friends.   For all their time on the run, for all the times she'd tried to beat it out of him, Alex was still a child.  

And even if he had been ready to stake out on his own.  A child, especially one as small as Alex, would always draw attention when traveling alone.  

Despite that, he had been able to drive the beaten down car, the phone book stacked beneath him giving him just enough extra height to see the road.  His maneuvering was perfect as he weaved through traffic.  They hadn't spent weeks training as Caroline and Sam in backroads lined with corn in Iowa for him to fail when escape was their only option.  

Mary applied pressure to the bullet wound with one hand and frantically called the local FBI office with her other.   Her family might have been able to help her, but she wouldn't live to see them arrive from England.  In dire circumstances one had to make do.  

And Mary had years’ worth of insider information of her husband's dealing she could easily trade for her treatment at a hospital and her son's continued safety.

So Nathaniel was 13 when his mother almost died, and he entered the witness protection program.   He was thirteen when he became Neil Josten.  

"Isn't it too similar to his real name?"  Mary huffed, giving the trio sent to her hospital room a jaunty smile.    

The mousy-haired social worker pushed up her glasses as she gave them a placating smile.  "We find young children tend to adapt better when allowed some connection to their genuine selves."

Mary had rolled her eyes, but Neil had merely frowned.   He had no idea what she meant by genuine self.   Was he supposed to be like creative like Sam?  Or logical like Owen?  His life had been a mass of contradictions.   The only thing he knew for certain was he didn't want to be brutal like Nathaniel.    

The only thing he'd consistently been his entire life was scared.    

He was fifteen by the time arrests were started to be made in Baltimore.  

"You needed two years for that?"  Mary spat as she talked to their handler over the phone from their Millport townhouse.  "Fucking Moorhouse and Redler?

Neil dutifully filled out his homework as he sat sprawled out in the living room with the patio door open so he could smell his mother's cigarettes as she badgered tonight's lucky caller.

"I would have thought that you'd have something more to show for yourselves.  Truly the incompetence is astounding."  

Neil smirked as Mary's natural brogue colored her words.  She could speak half a dozen languages with the precision of a local but rile her up enough and anyone would be able to tell she’d spent her childhood running wild in Manchester.    

Neil pressed his pencil hard into the paper as he underlined yet another one of the rules for pickleball.  Sure he couldn't even run around the neighborhood anytime soon, let alone play a game he's actually interested in, but the epitome of his online gym education truly was learning rules and regulations for sports he wasn't even sure were real.    

"I'm allowed to lie on this one right?" He sarcastically asked his caseworker as he laid out the exercise tracker worksheet.  "Like I'm not about to put myself in federal custody for claiming I have access to an Exy court? Since you guys said I had to be totally honest and everything"  

She had rolled his eyes at him, but she didn't ask about Mary's late night phone calls to Uncle Stuart, so Neil took it for the win it was.  

In another world, he was nineteen when his father’s people found them.  Instead, he was fifteen.   Fifteen with a limited skill-set since there are things that can be taught on the run that can’t be taught in a small flat under government surveillance.  

The only bright side was that in this world, there was no car.  He was not crammed in a trunk with Lola tool close, practically grinding on top of him as she reminded him how much he looked like his father. It’s a small victory.  

Instead there’s screaming and knives and he had to watch.  He had to watch with his heart in his throat as Romero showed no mercy.  Watch as his mother died, watch until he can’t recognize her corpse anymore.  

They took enjoyment in this.   Lola’s practically laughed as he slammed into the wall, as she dragged her knife down his chest.  

Neil spit in Lola’s face as she poured the gasoline. With his squirming, it only managed to douse half his body, but it was enough to finally wrench the screams from his throat as the flames bit into his flesh.  

He was scared.  He fought back anyway.  

But that really wouldn’t have changed in either world.  

The bullets that finally came, that finally bring everything to an end, did not come from his Uncle in revenge.  

Instead they are fired by federal officers aiming to main so as not to lose the opportunity to interrogate the criminals that might have enough knowledge to bring all of East Coast’s organized crime to its knees.  

The weeks that followed weren’t kind to him.  Neil saw the pictures later and he didn’t even recognize his own face.

But for once, the people were kind.  Kind enough to give him hope even as the rest of the world collapsed around him.  

Somewhere else a scared boy finds his family and himself at nineteen on an Exy court.  In this world, Neil Josten is twenty-six and finds them in a hospital.  This is that story.  

"It really was lucky that we found you with such short notice."  

In general, Neil Josten didn't believe in luck.  He certainly wouldn't call it luck when Palmetto Public Hospital had posted exactly the type of job he looked for on all the travel nurse job boards.   Just desperate sounding enough to cause people to not ask too many questions, while professional enough to not make a big deal of his scars.  

Neil took Chief Nurse Danielle Wilds' hand with a carefully constructed smile on his face.  "I'm glad I'm able to help.  Although I was under the impression, I'd be your replacement."  

Wilds let out as a laugh as she seemed to instinctively cradle her baby bump.  "My husband, Matt, you'll be working with him too, thinks I'm being ridiculous, wanting to show you around myself, but I'd truly hate for you to get the wrong impression of us."  

Neil just barely kept himself from rolling his eyes.  Every hospital thought they were so special. Like a family or some shit.   Every hospital was wrong.  

Procedure might differ slightly, and some places had more people worth avoiding.   But in the end, all that mattered was that the nurses showed up,  did their job and offered some kindness.  Even if he’s no Abby, even if his version of kindness wasn’t so much sympathy as it is experience, kindness was essential.  

He can never claim to know exactly what the patients are going through.  Even if they showed up with third degree burns down half their body, a punctured lung, a broken arm and some knife wounds, he wouldn’t really know.  He’d just know they’d hurt like hell.  Even if the injuries were the same, their story would be very different.

No one breaks the same way.  

Still the things a broken person can say to another broken person can often carry more weight.  

It’s one thing to offer sympathy.  It’s another entirely to nod in understanding that your body doesn’t entirely feel like yours anymore, that it might never feel like yours, but you just have to keep going forward.  

Over the years, Neil got very good at moving forward.  

Neil tossed his running shoes by the door.  It took him less than ten minutes for Neil to add his things to the furnished apartment.   He'd discovered only two hospitals ago that people ask less questions if his clothes weren't covered in wrinkles from staying packed.   So Neil haphazardly moved the folded scrubs onto the cheapest hangers he could find.

3:08 PM I'm all moved in.  

The responding string of smiley faces to Neil's message was instantaneous despite the fact it was the middle of the afternoon and Abby was likely still on shift.  (Or maybe precisely because she was on shift and had her phone on to stay up to date on patients as opposed to cutting herself off from the rest of the world to try and squeeze out some sleep.)  

He didn't feel guilty per say as he closed his phone.   Abby knew better to expect much from him.  

"Kiddo, I'm going to take what I can get. I understand you aren’t used to having someone in your corner."  She said as she bundled him up for college, doing far more than anyone had expected of her.  

Well he should have expected it of her.  Abby had practically laughed in his case worker's face when Cindy had brought up the different moveout options for when Neil turned 18.      

It was a strange thing to have someone, even if he kept her at arm's length.  

It's for her own good.  The little traitorous voice in his head whispered.  

Logically, Neil knew that Abby was already in too deep.  Anyone, including any of his father's men seeking retribution could find her by simply looking for his file.   He didn't need to maintain a relationship with her in order for Abby to be at risk.   She had housed him during the trial.  That would be enough for them.   There was no need to push her away, to prevent her from actually knowing him.  

But he felt a little bad that she knew him well enough to not ask why he had a new number or what his address was.  Moving so soon after getting a housewarming package of cookies hadn’t been an overreaction and he stood by that.

When he finally met him, Matt was more of an overexcited puppy than an actual person.  He dragged Neil down to the cafeteria every day they shared a break.  Matt carried the conversation easily needing only the slightest input from Neil to keep going.  He talked about any and everything, from college exploits to TV shows to worries that he wouldn’t be a good dad.  

“It’s not like I had the best example, you know?”  Matt joked even as his eyes are serious.  

Neil nodded, understanding a bit too well.  “Still an example.  Just an example of one way to fuck up.  You’ll be fine.”  

He ducked his head as Matt beamed too brightly at him.  

Words were a weapon he’s used to, but everything about conversations with Matt felt wrong.  

Matt made him feel unbalanced.  He offered up genuine parts of himself so easily.  Neil wished he had something to give him in return for his easy friendship and trust, but even what was safe to say felt like it belonged to a different person entirely, a person he didn’t want to be anymore.  

And what was left after that?  The fact he didn’t like books or movies or vegetables.  It wasn’t a fair trade. Matt shouldn’t be content to accept the breadcrumbs Neil offers in return for his raw insecurities.  

But he was.  

And that made Neil want to try.  Try to force himself into a person Matt deserved, someone real.

Creating that person was fucking exhausting.  

After two weeks, he had more than enough.   Neil had a bag lunch and a mission.

Neil slipped into the stairwell without anyone spotting him and headed up.  He might be able get onto the roof.  But he would settle for just one of the upper floors.  As long as there was no well-meaning coworker attempting to engage him in the break room or bring him down to the cafeteria, Neil would consider it a win.

The door marked “Roof Access – Maintenance Staff Only" looked like it should be locked.   But a few jiggles of the handle had it opening easily enough.  

The roof wasn't empty like he expected.  Instead there's a figure sitting cross-legged near the front edge of the roof.  Even from here, Neil could tell the man is short.  Small but not delicate.   Probably a former athlete from the width of his shoulders, the bulk visible even through the loose black scrubs.  His short blonde hair is slightly windswept, enough so that he can see the man’s black earrings.

Neil tried to place him.  He is not the best with names.  He didn't see the point of attempting to remember when he’d be gone soon.   But Dan had wanted to introduce him to everyone, saying something about them not being a whole bunch of "do-nothings" and it would do him some good to know the typical inhabitants of the burn ward.  

Allison had taken that a step farther.  Probably because she wanted gossip and hearing vague descriptions wasn't very helpful to her.  

Neil stared for a second, cataloguing the man from behind, before it clicked.  

Andrew Minyard, Physical Therapist.  

”Monster Minyard” Allison said as she brought him around with her one day, telling him everything he should know about his new coworkers.  “Bites worse than his bark. If he wasn’t so good with hopeless cases or getting rid of particularly overbearing visitors, I wouldn’t even know why we kept him around.”

The little Neil’s seen already was more than enough to know Andrew’s good.  

The only way the nickname seemed to fit at all was that the man was intimidating when he wanted to be, that he could turn himself into a threat with ease.  Neil had seen him practically threaten a relative with a scalpel to the chest before turning on the dime and gently helping the patient bend the joints covered with skin grafts.

But the most remarkable thing was how Andrew always let his patients set the pace.  

There were sections of his own skin where Neil had lost sensation.  There were days when they'd ache or itch, but he couldn't feel much beyond heat. He'd nearly decked the first doctor who touched his arm without warning him.  Neil hadn't even realized he was there until the hand moved to a less ravaged spot.  Everything about it had made him feel unsteady.   He couldn't rely on his body to stand guard for him anymore.  

But Minyard never let his patients be surprised.   He narrated everything he did before he did it.  Nothing was a surprise.  They could say no if they didn't feel ready or if something hurt particularly bad that day.  He was flexible with the patients in a way he never was with the staff.  

Neil hadn't actually heard Minyard utter a word that wasn't directly related to their jobs.   He moved silently through the halls, meeting attempts to socialize with deep scowls.  

Maybe he'd be better off scouting out somewhere else.  There was no rule that Minyard owned the roof.  But Neil was also used to spotting dangerous people and everything about Minyard screamed trouble.      

“What are you doing up here?”  

Neil hadn’t realized Andrew had even known he was up here yet.  He didn’t bother turning when Neil forced the door open.  

“Trying to avoid company.”  Neil moved across the room until he sat next to Andrew.  They’re not quite at the edge, but there’s no guardrail.  It’s unnerving.  

Andrew gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement, still not looking at him.  

“What are you doing on the roof?”

“Used to smoke.  Never broke the habit.”

Neil merely nodded as he unwrapped his sandwich.  

Andrew tilted his head just slightly to the side.  “I thought that you’d be put off by smoking.”

“Is it bad to say I like the smell?”  

Andrew’s nose scrunched ever so slightly.  "You lie.  All the time."  

Neil only nodded again at the accusation.  

This time it isn’t quite a lie.  He did like the smell.  It’s not quite the same as the Lucky Strikes his mother would blow through after she thought he was asleep.  But it’s close, certainly a lot closer than the smell of burning human flesh.  

But it's not like Minyard's wrong either.  He did lie all the time.  Sometimes it felt like lying came easier than breathing.  

The rest of the staff hadn’t seemed as bothered about the lies. They were practically amused by them.  Neil had smirked when he passed the break room and overheard them sharing some of the most outrageous ones.  

“I heard him say to 402’s kid that he was trying to steal treasure from a palace guarded by lava, and he hadn’t been able to jump far enough on his way out.  

“At least that one’s child appropriate, he told 407 that was a victim of secret government trials of new chemical warfare weapons.  As if anyone with a brain couldn’t tell those were accelerant flame not pure chemical burns.” Allison added.  

No one mentioned “International Jewel Thief tortured for trade secrets.” And Seth didn’t bring up “I dabbled in porn to get through college.   Got a bit too into temperature play” even if it had made patient 406 laugh uproariously.  It was almost a shame his best lies were unappreciated.  

They’d even started a bet on what the real reason could be.  It would never be settled since it required asking him directly and none of them would do that.  They all liked to pretend to have morals even as they bet on everything under the sun. Besides what sort of example would it set to their patients? The one staff member that actually looked like them and yet they couldn’t even show basic decency with regards to his privacy.  

Maybe they have a whole separate bet about who’s finally going to work up the courage.  Neil didn’t think any of them had put money on that person being Minyard.  

Minyard turned to face Neil for the first time, "Tell me something true."

It wasn’t concern on Minyard's face.  The look in his eyes barely qualified as interested, but Neil still wanted to answer him.  He didn’t know what to say but he can't dismiss the fact that he wanted to answer. It was easy to admit to himself he doesn't typically want anything.  

"I don't see the point of icebreakers."  

Minyard tapped his fingers aggressively against  the roof.  "I'm not asking for party tricks.  I'm asking for something true."  

Neil wasn't sure he even had something true to offer.  What does that mean when he existed as a lie stacked atop another lie? The things he’s already told Matt don’t hold enough substance to be something true.  

"I didn't even think about becoming a nurse until after all this."  He gestured to himself.  He can't call it an accident even if that would make it simpler.

It was no accident where Lola pressed the dashboard lighter into his face, no accident in the way she poured the gasoline.  Every one of her actions had been designed to cause him the maximum amount of pain.  This wasn’t an accident.  

"My roommate forced me into PT.  Thought that since it was his new purpose in life, it would be mine too."  

"It's not like he was wrong."  

"You disgust me Josten."  

"I mean you can't be so good at your job without feeling something."  

"It's more interesting than other options."

"So you like it then."  Neil teased easily.  

“Give me one good reason to not push you off the side.”

"Just try.  I'd drag you with me. It's a long way down.”

It grew from there. Going to the roof was no longer about avoiding the others by spending time with Minyard, but instead about just talking with Andrew.  Eating on the roof together felt easy.  The conversation had rules.  Answer for answer, truth for truth.  There was no awkward imbalance or a desire to be something more for Andrew.  They could just talk.  

Neil practically collapsed into his spot on the roof with his lunch in hand.  He was painfully aware of how he’d gradually crept closer since their first conversation.  "Why'd you choose Palmetto?"

"Brother didn't want me in Chicago."

Neil’s head shot up from the banana he was peeling.  "You have a brother?"

Andrew glared as if to say it isn't your turn idiot.

He raised his hands in mock surrender.  "All right I get it. Go on. Ask your question."

"And if I think we should be done for the day?"

Neil shrugged. "I can wait."

And he could. With each day spent on the roof, Neil only craved to know more about Andrew. But he liked what they had and wouldn't dare ruin that with his impatience. The roof felt safe in a way the rest of the hospital didn't.

Andrew grunted. “What's with the orange?"  

Neil rolled his eyes.  "You gave me a hard time for my question and you're asking that?"  

"That wasn't an answer."  

"And if I just like orange?"  

"You're being ridiculous."  

They sat in silence for a while before Neil offered up more.  

"College colors.  Just never outgrew them I guess.  They make me feel..."  

Safe wasn't the right word.  He practically spent all of college categorizing every exit on campus.  Like he was a part of something feels wrong too.   He left his apartment for class and an ever-changing cubicle in the library. There wasn't a whole lot to be a part of.  

But Andrew nodded anyway like he actually finished the thought instead of trailing off into silence.  "Feeling is dangerous."  

Andrew's words were simple, but Neil could tell from the way he looked at the edge of the roof that they meant something more.   It was a confession and an accusation wrapped all into one.  

"So is not feeling.  What are you supposed to keep living for if everything is grey and I say that as someone who actually likes grey."

Andrew scoffed, but didn’t say anything more.

Even knowing that Andrew had a mysterious estranged brother couldn’t make Neil break the silence.  It wasn’t that he was afraid of pressing too far.  Andrew wouldn’t let him.  But he knew what it’s like to feel exposed and Andrew had already shared more than usual today.  

They sat in comfortable silence until a pager goes off.  

Neil wasn’t sure what the others think about the two of them.  

The hospital chaplain with her oddly died hair likes to smile at him whenever she came to their floor.  He thought she might be friends with Andrew, but he didn’t really care what she thought as long as she stayed out of his way.

Matt complained that he never got to eat with his new buddy anymore, but Neil wasn’t sure the rest of them even noticed.

They must have though, because their friendship was no longer confined to the roof.   There were conversations in the hallways, extra food left in the break room that Neil certainly hadn’t brought himself, jokes cracked in the locker room when only Neil could hear.   What they had wasn’t something that could be easily hidden away.  

It certainly helped that they shared patients.   They could walk down the hallway, a patient between them and debate plans for the zombie apocalypse.  402, Luis Hernandez, was a particular good sport about it, even if he was a bit too moral about the end of the world.  

Neil did not have soft spots for patients.  He was the epitome of professionalism.  But he could admit that he liked how he had an excuse to talk to Andrew longer with Hernandez around.  

"You don't have to like your scars you know?"  Neil said lightly as he perched next to Hernandez’s bed, grabbing more antibiotic for the man's face.  "Don't have to hate them either."  

Hernandez gave a half-hearted shrug, clearly trying to stay still while gesturing to the brochures in his lap. "Everyone keeps bringing up plastic surgery."

Neil hummed. “They're going to keep doing that.  I'm not saying they're an eyesore or even particularly noticeable.”  He uncapped a new jar of ointment.   “It’s just easier for them if they can pretend it never happened.  No scars. No problem.”

“But that doesn’t mean-“

“I’m not saying it would.  People are just good at ignoring what isn’t directly in front of them. And if they’re forced to see it, they have to actually acknowledge you’ve been through some shit.”    

"It doesn't change what happened."  

“They see something wrong, keep trying to find ways to fix things even if you don't particularly think you're broken.”

"And if I want to be fixed?"  

"Then that's on you. You're recovering quicker than we expected.  I don't see why you wouldn't respond positively to cosmetic treatment." Neil sighed as he laid down the old wrappings "You've just got to be the one to want it. You've gone through too much to want to start living for anyone else now."  

He heard a cough behind him and only barely resisted the urge to whip around.    Instead he waited until he’d finished smearing the antibiotic across this section of the man’s chest.   He turned to see Andrew leaning easily against the doorframe.  

“You’re good to take lunch when you’re done here.”  

Neil looked upwards and Andrew nodded.    

It took very little time for Neil to finish knowing that Andrew would be waiting for him on the roof.  

“Did you seriously believe all that shit you were telling Hernandez?”  

Neil looked at his lap where his unopened lunch sat.  He suddenly wasn’t feeling particularly hungry.  “People always look at the scars.  Drove me mad with their staring.  Hard to be invisible when you’re this fucking distinctive.”  

Andrew snorted.  “The scars are the least of your problems then.”  

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  

Neil felt the weight of Andrew’s stare as it slowly scanned up and down his body.   He huffed, wanting an actual answer.

“Are you an idiot?”  

“Considering you call me that about six times a week, yes?”  

Andrew angled his body toward Neil instead of the steep drop of the roof.  “People find you attractive.”  He shrugged, “I’d blow you.”

The confession was dropped in the middle of the conversation so easily as if it didn’t send Neil’s entire world spinning.  He dug his hands into his legs trying to focus himself in any way he could.  

“You like me."  

"I hate you," Andrew corrected him, but Neil barely heard him, even as the other men left.  

Neil got to work slightly ahead of schedule, rolled his eyes slightly at the night nurse giving him the pedantic recap of today's patients, somehow managing to drone on for ten minutes without saying anything of actual value.  

Andrew would be in later, he thought absentmindedly as he washed his hands.  They might be able to coordinate their breaks if he was lucky.  And you might even be able to convince him at gunpoint that lately he was pretty lucky.  (Although that might also be because Matt was managing the schedules and his smile was a bit too knowing.)  

Still today shouldn’t be too bad.  There was only so much on the burn ward he hadn’t seen before and if they had had new patients, they weren’t any of his.  

412's patient was a finnicky older woman who only seemed to be living out of pure spite.  She'd been in a few days now and Neil's sharp tongue had done little to endear himself to her.  So it was truly a matter of his job security to get in and out as quickly as possible.  If he had to hear one more complaint about ungrateful grandchildren or idiot politicians, he would snap.

The television was turned up loud in order to reach the women's bed.  Despite insisting her hearing was just fine thank you very much, this meant the news could be heard down the hall.    Still, Neil had gotten used to putting his head down and doing his own business.  

There were enough signs that he should have known. After all, he knew it had to be interesting in order to keep Linda from complaining about the slight pinch as he repositioned her IV.  

He should have heard it before he turned around to see his father's face plastered across the screen with the bold red font "Serial Killer Nathan Wesninski found dead in Baltimore Penitentiary."   They'd chosen one of the trial photos as opposed to the mugshot.  He looked handsome in his expensive suit with the smile he only pulled out at the business parties that left Neil sore for days.  

His feet were moving before he fully registered what the headline read.  

It was pure instinct to put as much distance as he could between himself and his father as possible even if it was just the picture.  

Neil couldn't hear the clatter as he knocked over one of the vases.  He was sure Linda was having a conniption, but he couldn’t hear it.   He’s not here anymore.

He was thirteen again.  And his father wore a much more dangerous grin, the kind that meant no mercy.  

Neil's hands were covered in blood as he dragged his mother to the car.  Hands digging into her chest as if he could force her to stay with him.

He was eight and his father had crossed the line that was even too much for his mother.  

His hands shook as he tried to thread his own needle.  He held the needle with his mouth, trying to thread it with one hand and using the other to force the wound together.   There was just so much blood and not enough time.  

You can't stop running.  

He thought he heard someone calling his name.  Too close. He’s too close.  

You're never safe.      

He darted through the closest door.  It was a dead end, but it was out of sight.  

When you fight back, do so quietly and quickly.   You cannot risk attracting another opponent Abram.    

He forced himself into the corner.  There should be something here, anything really to block the door.  But he didn’t see anything, and he heard footsteps. Resounding thuds against the linoleum floor. They were too close.  

And if you can’t run.  You hide.  You hide until I come get you.

There’s space on the lower shelf.  It wasn’t very big, but he’s always been small.  It should be just big enough.   Neil shoved the folded bedsheets and patient gowns out of the way.  He would look out of place, easy enough to find if someone cared to look hard enough, but for now he just hugged his knees to his chest.

Everything felt like it’s moving too fast.  His heart was pounding so loudly he’s sure it’s about to give him away.  His mind wasn’t even forming full thoughts anymore, just racing ahead of him.   He squeezed himself even tighter as if he can force out the emotions.

He only vaguely felt his right hand digging into his left arm over the burn scars.  He knew he should stop.  He hadn’t picked at them in years, tried not to irritate them more than necessary so they didn’t draw attention to him. But it’s not like it mattered now.  He’d be dead soon.   He should be worrying about if Abby would be able to find the body and how long it’d take the hospital to notify her since after everything she was still his emergency contact.  

He should have tried to think his way out of this.  

But he couldn’t get his thoughts to stop for a fucking second. Just one second might be enough to find a miracle. But even if Neil Josten had ever deserved a miracle, he’d used up his share.  He’d made it to twenty-six.  But now, he was going to die.  

He knows it won’t be a painless death.  There’s only so much a human body could take, a line at which point the mind can’t comprehend the pain anymore.  But Nathan Wesninski knew the line and played it like a violin.  He’d want to take his time, really make his son feel every inch of his displeasure.  There was no way Neil would be able to contain his screams for long enough to satisfy him.  His father would risk getting him out of this hospital if it meant he could take his time.  

Neil wouldn’t let himself be taken. To lose consciousness now was to accept a long painful death. He would not leave this hospital, not ever again.  He would take a quick painful death over a long painful one any day.

But to get a quick death though he needed to be here. And he couldn’t seem to force himself to be.  He kept seeing flashes of other moments.  

Blood snaking down toward the drain of their concrete basement.  Romero’s fingernails digging into his skin as Lola brandished her knife.  His father’s grin menacing and horrible.  

It spoke to his terror that he didn’t notice when the door opened.  

"Hey." The voice is soft, gentle in a way the Butcher of Baltimore was never capable of sounding even when he was playing pretend as a productive member of society.

Still the sound has Neil's head shooting up, just to be sure.  Andrew is standing with his back to the door.

"You're Neil Josten. You're in the supply closet at Palmetto Public Hospital.  You're safe."  The words wrapped around him like a caress.  

It felt less like he was drowning.  

Neil still couldn’t move, so he just stared.    Stared as Andrew moved forward, every step light, his arms raised in front of him to show his empty hands.  

Andrew repeated the refrain as he squatted down near Neil's hiding spot in the linens.   His hazel eyes stared into Neil's.  They're warm like sunlight, like they could cut through the shadow of Neil's soul.

"It’s over.  You're safe.  Can you breathe with me?"

Neil didn't move.  He couldn’t force his tongue to wrap around the words, couldn’t even decide what the words should be.  

"We're going to do this together."   Andrew shifted from his squat to sitting cross-legged next to him.   He's close to the shelving unit, but he wasn’t trying to force Neil out.   Andrew exaggerated his own breathing.

He didn’t know how long they sit there before Neil feels his own breathing falling in sync.  They're not deep breaths.  Just shallow rasps, but he's trying.

Andrew put his hand out in front of him.  "Can I touch you?"  

He nodded haltingly.  

Neil didn’t move away when Andrew gently cupped the side of his face, running a finger over the puckered skin.  “You’re not there.”  His voice was soft, but it practically echoed in the small closet.

When Neil nodded this time, it feels more natural.  

Neil shifted in his position on the lowest shelf.  He wiggled his limbs slowly, taking stock of all ten toes and fingers.  He's all in one piece. He's fine.

He didn’t know what Andrew sees in his glance, but he's happy when Andrew backs up so he can crawl out of the shelving unit.  "Yes or no?"  

He hated how broken his voice sounded.  His father wasn't even here.  His father was dead.  He shouldn't sound so lost.  

Andrew's stare was penetrating.  "To what?  I'm not going to kiss you.  You're having a mental breakdown Josten."  

Neil bit his lip.  That hadn't been what he was thinking of at all.  He almost wished he had been, because it would have been nice to just lose himself in the sensation, let his body be consumed with raw need for Andrew until there was no room for fear.  

"Just touching you.  Leaning on you."  

Neil knew Andrew didn't like being touched.  It felt wrong to want to envelop himself in Andrew, to even ask knowing that, but he's desperate.  

"It's a yes,"  Andrew said as he settled down again legs extended in front of him.  

Neil curled easily against his side, Neil's head resting in the crook of his neck.  It's nice to sit there just listening to Andrew breathing, knowing that there will never be a future where Nathan Wesninski will get his hands on this bright spot in his son's world.  

"I should be happier."  

"Bullshit.  There is no should."  

"He's dead. He's finally dead. That has to mean something."  

Andrew adjusted himself to free one of his hands. He threaded it easily through Neil's hair.  "Maybe someday it will.  When was the last time you thought about him before today?"  

Neil wanted to snap back that he'd never stopped thinking about his father, that every decision he made was just one in a long way of keeping himself safe from Nathan Wesninski and his subordinates.   But he couldn't.  For the last month or so, Palmetto had felt safe.  

He'd spent nights marathoning movies in Andrew's apartment and stolen moments on the roof.  He treasured Matt's laughter and the yell of joy at grocery deliveries that was quickly hushed because babies are fickle things that never stop crying.  He even thought of Allison trying to convince him to let her take him shoe shopping.  

Slowly Neil had built something, something untouched by his father.   And then his gloating face had come crashing into it, ruining something even in death.  

Andrew took his silence as a sign that he was right.   “They come where they aren’t wanted.  Doesn’t mean they get to stay.  

Neil hummed and leaned more of his weight onto Andrew.  

“Do you have any other clothes?”  

Neil looked up at him confused.  

“You’re not staying here,” Andrew said as if talking to a small child.    

Neil pushed himself into a standing position, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet to try to give credence to his protests.  “I’m fine. I’ve got a whole shift ahead of me.”  

Andrew glared.  “I’m taking care of that.”  

Neil wanted to call bullshit, but he didn’t.  

He let himself be manhandled into the locker room where Andrew tossed him some clothes. The black sweats are too short, but the sweatshirt hung comfortably off him.  The grey material smelt like Andrew, so he hugged it tighter to himself as he waited for him to get back.  

He didn’t jump when Andrew wrapped an arm around him and directed him toward the parking lot.  

Maybe he was just done feeling, because he couldn’t even find it in himself to be surprised by the GS Andrew pushed him into.  It was much nicer than anything a PT should be able to afford.  

They drove in silence.  At first, Neil stared out the window letting the surroundings blur as they got on the highway.  Eventually though he shifted to stare at Andrew.   Neil wasn't sure how long it had been when Andrew finally pulled off the highway into a dingy gas station.  The sun had set at some point, but that wasn't much of a clue.  Neil didn't even bother to check the clock when Andrew turned the car back on with his hands full of junk food.  

"Do you want to go back to your apartment?"   Andrew asked as he viciously bit into the twinkie.    

"No."  The answer was instantaneous even if Neil didn't know why.  He should want to go curl up in the far corners of his bed with the door locked and the world unable to touch him.   But the thought of leaving this moment, leaving Andrew felt like too much.  

He didn't know when Andrew turned into a safe place.  Neil was used to standing on his own, but now it felt like he didn't have to.  It wasn't just today.   Andrew had been there today, but the trust had been building gradually until Neil realized it felt like Andrew could protect him from the world.  

"Kevin's going to ask questions."  

Neil barely stifled his groan.  While he'd only met the man a handful of times, Andrew's roommate was a common topic of conversation on the roof.  

"Why do you even live with him if you hate him so much?"  Neil asked.  

"Don't ask stupid questions."   Andrew said his eyes still focused on the road.  

Because he's one of yours. Neil thought to himself.

Kevin was Andrew's in a way Neil could never be.  Kevin was the person who stayed even after he fulfilled his end of a deal in college.  Andrew may complain about his constant nagging, his hypocrisy when it came to Andrew's sweet tooth, his attempts to get Andrew to join his countless intermural sports teams.  But at the end of the day, even when Aaron rejected him, Kevin stayed.  And for that Andrew would never let him go.  

Still the thought of dealing with Kevin’s seemingly endless energy felt like too much right now.  

"The hospital's fine.  I can get home from there."  

Andrew gave him a disparaging look.   "Now is not the time Rabbit.  Give me the address."  

"I'm surprised you don’t already have it.  The lock on staff records too hard to break?"  

Andrew snorted as he changed lanes.

He still felt rubbed raw from the way he'd broken so easily even if it had been nearly six years since he'd been near his father at all.   So he knew Andrew was right, he couldn’t handle other people.  He gave his address even as Andrew smirked.  

After leaving the safety of the car, he'd ran about eight miles on the treadmill that had certainly seen better days.  Typically he'd prefer to run outside and let the breeze carry his worries away from him.  But the thought of people made him want to shrink.   He'd take the cheap gym with locker rooms that smelt vaguely of mold if it meant he could avoid interactions with all but two people.      

He ran to the hospital the rest of the week too.  It wasn't worth trying to navigate the subway when he'd be looking over his shoulder the entire way.  

Neil wasn't being paranoid.  His father was dead. So were Romero and Jackson.  Lola and the majority of the minions he'd met were in prison.  But there had to be some he hadn't met.  People the FBI hadn't even thought to warn him about.  He hadn't expected to live this long and if he had to keep one eye over his shoulder, his duffel bag always packed and a new city every few months to keep living he'd do it.    

But for now, he had time.  He could make the most of his time at Palmetto.  

He knew now that Andrew wanted him, and even though he’d never given the thought of kissing much thought before.   He was suddenly desperate for Andrew’s lips on his.   Andrew made him feel like he didn’t have an expiration date, like the future didn’t actually matter.  For someone always thinking three steps ahead, that felt entirely new.  But he thought he could get used to it.  

Neil had just finished helping Hernandez check out when Dan walked back onto the unit for the first time.  

He did a double take at first. He still had three weeks left on his contract and being reminded of just how little time he had left made him grit his teeth.  

Typically he’d already have his next location lined up, but Neil hadn’t even sent in his application yet.  

He wasn’t an idiot.  He knew prolonging the inevitable wasn’t a good idea.  Pretending he could stay long enough to memorize the feel of Andrew’s hands on his scars and their mouths pressed together desperately would do him no favors.  Neil knew when he started that anything they started had a clear expiration date.    

But seeing Dan with her little yellow bundle made him realize how close that date actually was.  

Luckily Neil was spared from giving Dan more than a cursory nod due to Allison practically sprinting down the hallway to the front desk.  

Allison’s smile was dazzling as she gestured toward the baby.  “I’m so glad to see you.  Now give me my niece.”

Dan merely rolled her eyes.  She looked more tired than the last time Neil had seen her, but also happier.  The dark bags under her eyes were matched by a brilliant smile.  

When she hesitated to hand her newborn over, Allison put her hands on her hips.  "You're in a hospital Dan.  It's not like we don't know how to take care of her"  

"And when was the last time you did an OBGYN rotation?"  

Allison flipped her blond ponytail dramatically.   "I'll have you know I could do it any day.  I just like you too much to be reassigned."

"And you'd be a bitch to replace. Here."   Dan smirked even as she handed over the baby.

"Oh She's absolutely precious, Auntie Allie's going to absolutely spoil you. Yes she is"   Allison cooed as she held the newborn.      

Dan watched her with a smile.  "Randy's a lifesaver, but I'm not about to say no to more babysitters."  

"Wait until she's older. I’ve got enough diapers to change as is.”  

Dan snorts.  

"So when are you back officially then?  I need my bestie back."

"I'm still working out the details."  

Allison snorted.  

Neil busied himself with sorting through the pain medication records for 409, pretending to ignore the weight of Dan's stare.  

But Allison had no intention of ignoring it.  "You mean we get to keep him?"  

"Honestly Al, he's not a stray cat."    

"So?"  

"And I haven't asked him yet, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't scare him away in the meantime."  

"Of Course Dan.  I wouldn't dare."  Allison smiled again at the baby before announcing that clearly Auntie Allie was the only one who could give a proper tour and that maybe "We'll even find daddy in time for him to change your diaper."      

Dan rolled her eyes but wasted none of her newfound baby-free time in waiting to approach Neil.    

"I'm so glad I was able to catch you.  I've heard nothing but good things about you since you started."  

Neil glanced up from the paperwork, but kept his fingers wrapped tightly around the clipboard.   "Most of them from your husband I assume."  

Dan laughed good naturally.  "You’d certainly think so.   I swear if I hadn't already cemented myself as his favorite person, I'd be worried."  

Neil grimaced.  

"But it isn't just him."  Dan stepped closer.  "How are you enjoying Palmetto Public Neil?"  

"It's fine."  

Despite his lackluster answer, she seemed undeterred.  "I'm glad to hear it, because we've been so happy to have you here.  And since we're always short-staffed, I was able to get the board to approve your transition to a full-time position if you want it."  

Neil swallowed, a pit already forming in his stomach.   "That's-"

"You don't have to give me an answer now.  I was just stopping in today and wanted to let you know as soon as possible so you could get your affairs in order."  

She smiled so eagerly at him.  He almost felt guilty when he said, "No.  I'm grateful for the offer and all, but I can't stay."  

"Oh."  Dan's voice was so small.   She looked absolutely heartbroken.  

He grimaced again.    

"Well, if you change your mind, just know you're always welcome here."  

Neil forced himself to turn back to the paperwork to give her a chance to slink away. He wasn't actually reading, probably couldn't even if he tried.  

They wanted him to stay.  

And that very fact made him want to run until he couldn’t move anymore.  

Neil at least stopped himself from running out of the hospital.  He went to the roof, where things had always been just a little bit clearer.   Maybe if he could just think, he could make his heart stop pounding.  

"Why are you being such an idiot?"  Andrew's voice was angrier than he'd ever heard him as he slams the door open.  "I can't believe you."  

"What's there to believe?"  

Andrew stalked across the room toward him.  Neil knew what angry men could do, but he wasn't afraid not even as Andrew practically spit in his face.  "That you're just going to run off again like a fucking rabbit."

"It's better for everyone." His voice sounded empty even to his own ears.  

Andrew dug his hand into Neil's shoulder. "Don't give me that shit."

Neil looked at him blankly.  

"He's dead."  

"So?"  

"So stop running."  

"I don't know how."  The words were small, but he felt the truth in every ounce of his body.   He's never had somewhere worth staying or anyone worth staying for.  

Abby had tried, tried so much harder than anyone else.   But it wasn't the same.   He couldn't stop feeling like the scarred boy who'd come into her care determined not to need anyone.  And she was all too willing to watch him walk away.  He didn't need to stay anywhere to be worth something.  

He couldn't explain why this time was different.  Why he ached at the thought of never listening to Allison tease him.  Why never talking to Matt again made him want to curl in on himself.  He certainly couldn't explain why the thought of not being able to laugh with Andrew, not being able to see him every day physically pained him.  He needed Andrew in a way he hadn't needed anyone since his mother died.    

Neil was desperate for him to understand.   "Tell me to stay.  You have to tell me to stay."  

"Why should I?  Nothing will come of it."  

"What's that supposed to mean?"  

Neil wanted to scream.   Scream that maybe if Andrew just asked he'd be able to.  He'd be able to force down all the impulses telling him to run, just like he was able to stop himself from running out of the hospital entirely at Dan's offer.  Instead he ran to the roof, where it was safe, where Andrew made it safe.  

Andrew pushed him away and Neil already felt himself stepping forward unconsciously, trying to close the distance between them.  

"It means I'm self-destructive, not stupid.  I'm not going to ask when you clearly don't want to.  I won't make you."  

I'd never make you.  

Andrew didn’t say that, but Neil heard it anyway.  Because Andrew never pushed when it came to consent, to wanting this thing between them.    

It's why he's so desperate for Andrew to understand now.    

"It's always been 'go.  It's always been 'lie' and 'hide' and 'disappear'."   Neil gestured wildly as if trying to grab the words from thin air. "I've never belonged anywhere or had the right to call anything my own. You can't expect me to just know how to-”

Neil trailed off when he saw Andrew's face.  It was stony even to his impassioned plea.

He didn't know how he could fix this.  He felt like he was hanging on by a fraying thread as it was.  "I'm so tired of being nothing."  

"Then stop making yourself be nothing.   Let yourself have this."  

Neil felt himself floundering even more.  "It's not that simple."  

Andrew huffed and turned away from him.  "I don't have time for rabbits or idiots."  

He let the door slam as he left.  

Getting through the rest of the day was a blur.  Neil just kept thinking about Andrew walking away from him and the rooftop door echoing too loudly as it closed.  His apartment was no better.

There was nothing in the little apartment that Neil was renting that looked remarkably like home.  He was used to packing his life up in to the grey duffel bag every few months.  Nothing he bought couldn’t be replaced at any big box store.  

It never really bothered him before.  

That wasn’t to say he hadn’t noticed how other people’s spaces seemed to fit them.  But he had spent so long trying to blend in that he wasn’t even sure what he could add to make the space feel more like him.

He didn’t have the college pictures to string along his wall like Dan and Matt.   He didn’t even have the dime-a-dozen motivational posters that Kevin seemed to favor the few times he’d been to the apartment he shared with Andrew.   He certainly didn’t have the wall of books that Andrew kept in his own room.  

Up until recently he wouldn’t have cared.

But for the first time in his life, Neil was starting to feel like a real person.  A real person was supposed to have something that other people could remember them by, to identify them with.  Neil had his job and the scars on his face.

And Andrew.   Andrew who didn’t seem to care about either.  

If anything Andrew scoffed at the desperation he brought to his job when they both know that you couldn’t save everyone, and that most of the time you couldn’t save the people who deserved it either.  

But Neil could see the way he cared even if he didn’t make it his entire personality or guiding force.   His chart notes were too detailed.  His frown all the deeper when things went wrong.  He was too good at his job to not care at least a little bit.  And there was no one at Palmetto that could deny that Andrew was brilliant at his job.  

While others could look at Neil and see nothing but his injuries, there was a way that Andrew looked at him, his eyes pooling like honey that made Neil feel like Andrew was seeing everything but his scars.  

Somehow he even looked happy with what he found.  

It made him want to stay, to take that little feeling and nurture it until Neil could see something in himself too.  Something worth being happy about.

He sent out three texts one right after the other.  

The first was to Andrew.  “I’m not an idiot or a rabbit.”

It was simple, but it said everything.  Neil wasn’t running from this, wasn’t running from Andrew.  Tomorrow they could talk, but for now it had to be enough.  

“Can I really stay?”  

It was less professional than it should be, considering Dan would be his supervisor if everything worked out.  But he didn’t have another way to ask.  It felt like pulling teeth to even write those four words.  

Neil shouldn’t have turned her down so quickly this afternoon. He should have let himself realize how much he wanted this, realize how forcing himself to move again felt like he was leaving a part of himself behind that he didn’t even know he had before.  

But he needn’t have worried.  Dan’s reply was practically instantaneous.  “Of Course!!!! I’ll make sure to go over all the paperwork tomorrow.”  

The last message was one he should have sent twelve weeks ago.  It was only his address.  But Abby would know what it meant.   She always did.  

[sadboyayeron]

THE ONLY VALID MORIYAMA Nikoshi Doe

I came up with this Idea of Kevin having to raise Rikos son who’s name I decide would be Nikoshi Doe aka Niko

Enjoy

So If you Read “Tapping on my Chamber door” 

You know Nikoshi’s mother, Naima Dixon was born in Jamaica but came to the states at a young age after her mom past away.  She lived in the Bronx with her Aunt. She had tight curls aften in box breads or corn cornrows and dark skin with light brown eyes. She was 5’8.  Had a muscular build from all the years of track and had a scholarship to run at Eager Allen University. She was soon to have a spot on the olympic team for long jump, 100, 200 and 400 meters. She was then pregnant with Nikoshi after her and Riko started there little hook up.  The knew of each other but they first met in class.  She noticed Riko looking at her.

“Like what you see.”  I was trying to catch him off guard but he didn’t even look surprise.  But then he smiled.  Something sharp that left me feeling tingly, similar to how I feel before racing.  

“Not to bad, no.”  He chuckled, looked me up and down before he landed back on my eyes, “Want to sit.”

He left me in a trance and I took a seat next to him and sat my books in front of me.  I tucked some braids behind my ear and looked at him again, he was looking back with a smug smile on his face.  

At first I was thinking Nikoshi was Rikos frozen sperm and his mother was forced by Rikos uncle to have him BUT I decide that Riko died before he knew about Naima being pregnant She found out she was pregnant and went to Riko’s uncle for help and he said to give him the kid and she could get her scholarship Back.  So she agreed naming him “Nico” but sadly she died while giving birth from bleeding out. Tesuji doesn’t use that name and changes it to ‘Nikoshi’ stripping him of any last name (Doe) putting the kid into the system in the same place she grow up in Bronx. Ichirou is informed of Nikoshi ten years later after having his Uncle killed. Who then informs kevin.

Nikoshi is from the Bronx has a accent when he speaks. He knows Spanish because of the amount of Dominican and Puerto Rican foster parents he’s had.  Kinda understands broken english two because one of his foster brothers was from Jamaica which is cool because he knows he’s half Jamaican and some type of asian. He wears beat up high top jordan 1s baggy ripped jeans and long sleeves with a baggy jacket. He plays soccer because the system put him on a team and he’s very fast. He didn’t have much clothes but his best ones are the uniforms and he’s fine with that. He also plays street basketball and baseball with some kids in the area.

Kevin has to take Nikoshi in, according to Ichirou. Bringing Neil and Andrew with him. Ichirou just sent him a picture a kid and he was confused until he got that call that explained everything. He doesn’t need to explain who the kid is because you can clearly tell from the picture. Though the kid has milk cholclate skin, and curly hair that falls around his head in a fro.

When he frist sees Nico he has a scrape scab on his cheek, bruises on his wrist and purple knuckles. His ears a surprisingly pierced.

They find out Nikoshi Doe goes by Niko, he likes chocolate and cafe con leche (coffee), he likes shoes, he likes the color green, he uses a lot of slang and sometimes uses broken english and spanglish words, he’s quite but hyper and doesn’t know how to say still, asks why a lot, he hates math and likes to read, he loves listening to music it’s his safe place, he was diagnosed with ADHD/ADD and takes a pill in the morning and after noon on school days, he doesn’t like the way the pills make him feel, he likes Bee, Bee suspects Niko my be Borderline but it’s hard to tell, Kevin explains Riko was too.  When they go to pick up Nikoshi they are informed of his diagnoses. 

“So Kevin Day, It is very nice to meet you my husband loves watching you guys play Exy,” She smiled at them and then opened a drawer in her desk pulling out two folders.“ Now these paper were just printed out today.  One from Nikoshi’s Doctor and another from his psychologist.”  Kevin straightened his back more at that.

“Psychologist?”  She looked up at Kevin.

“Yes, a lot of children in foster care go to see a therapist.  It helps cope with abandonment and makes sure the kids are transitioning well in their new homes.”  She opened one of the folders.  “Nikoshi saw a therapist who recommended him to a psychologist.  He was diagnosed with ADHD/ADD and given medication.  He went through three different medications before he was put on Focalin XR.  His biggest issues are impulsivity, managing feelings, and energy.  There is more information in the folder with getting the prescription at a pharmacy and things to know about his behavior.  He takes Focalin every morning before school, its not needed on the weekends but to long off it isn’t the best idea.  Though if you want him off the medication, if you ever come to adopting him you can do that.”  She looked towards the other two. “Will you two be helping take care of Nikoshi.”

“Yeah we are, is there anything else we need to know.  If he needs a therapist we already got that covered.  We can send her the information.”  Neil replied with a bored tone but

“Thats good to know, he just saw the doctor last week.  He gained some weight and is now at a more healthier weight then he was before.”  She sighed. “You have to reminded him to eat, he forgets to and he doesn't ask for food.  The foster home he was just at was good with keeping a schedule, he ate, took his meds, ate at school, had a snack at home, soccer practice and then dinner.  He gets distracted and has little habits that cause him focus to much on random things.  The meds take away his hunger also, so it important that he finishes.”  She then closed both folders and stacked them together before sliding them to Kevin.  

Kevin didn’t know how to process that.  This information sounded to familiar.  He always had to remind Riko to eat something.  Riko would go days without eating, or sleeping, or even both.  It got so bad the master had to tube feed him because he past out and didn’t get back up.  Niko always got back up.  He was taken out of his thoughts when the lady, Jennifer stood.  He picked up the folders and got up following Andrew and Neil out the door.  Nikoshi was still sitting in his chair, he was singing his legs slowly and seemed fixated on his hands.

“Nikoshi, these gentlemen here are going to be your new guardians,”  Niko looked up at them.  He got a better look at there faces, now that the glasses were off he could easily recognize who the taller man was with the chess piece on his cheek bone.  He was confused o say the least.  This had to be some sick joke, or a stupid stuPID dream.  He looked at the other too, the screw that littered the red heads tan face and the man with blond hair and black studs.

“Deadass?”  He blurted out suddenly.  Fuck.  He did not mean to blurt that out.  Kevin day looked taken back by his statement and the other too snickered from slightly behind him.  The lady looked horrified.

Riko used to self harm, stop eating for days, wouldn’t sleep for days either.  His uncle had to force him into a tube feeder once because of this.  Kevin and Riko had to see a therapist and she diagnosed Riko. His uncle disregarded it and gave him sum type of pills that made Riko’s anger at himself turn down a bit but he was more depressed. He tried to commit 3 times after. Kevin made him promise not to. He flushed the pills and started to abuse others.

Kevin explains this to Neil and Andrew.  They then try to learn more about BPD.  They watch youtube videos, read articles and books on it till they had a better understanding of the disorder.  They learn about the self-destructive tendencies and suicidal gestures that are quite common with the disorder.  They all try there best to build a good support system. 

Niko has a hard time with his identity and ‘who he is’,  he tries to remember that Kevin wants him and isn't going to abandon him, he tries to keep his shifts in moods to himself but in only makes things worse.  He tends to shut down in his room more often then not.  He finds himself getting angry at little things knowing he shouldn’t but he still does.  Anger attacks aren't as bad as the empty feeling he gets sometimes.

When Niko meets all the foxes he drifts more towards Nicky for whatever reason.  He finds that he like Nickys happy vibes and feels it radiate from him.  He likes to soak in it.

Niko likes talking to Neil, he gets candy from Andrew, and he likes playing Exy with Kevin. He didn’t like school and says it’s hard for him but he still makes honor roll no problem.

During the second month of school when he first started living with Kevin he expriences racism for maybe the first time.  He didn’t have any friends, nor knew anybody.  He could tell he was different from the other kids.  They were mostly white with a splash of color here and there.  The way they talked and walked was different then how he did.  He didn’t grew up with white picket fences like they seemed to.  They dressed different too.  He didn’t like the stares he was getting from the kids in his class.

“Nice hair are you a girl?”  One of the boys said, with his little click at his back.  It was recess and Niko stuck to staying to himself drawling in his note book that Andrew gave him. 

“No.”  The boys continued to laugh.  He hated when people talked about his hair.  He didn't like his hair.  Especially when his foster mothers always tugged and pulled on it.  That wasn't just it though.  It reminded him of his foster father Mr. James.

“Such pretty hair.”

The boys crept closers and Niko started to feel closed in.  One of them pulled out scissors and two grabbed him by the shoulders.  One talked about how there dad said them Black boys need to cut there hair.  Another used a slur Niko heard a lot back in the Bronx, used it himself when with the kids in the neighborhood but he never heard it used like this.  He started to struggle but another one grabbed his face and held him down so his face fell between his knees.  He felt chuncks of hair being cut of from his head as they fell down his back and some at his feet.  

He felt his eyes water and struggled harder.  He kicked the one to his right in the shin, knowing how much it hurt from when he played soccer with out shin guards.  The kids let go of that shoulder and he swung his arm hitting another kid.  They all let go once they heard a teacher yell at them.  Niko reached for the scissors and threw them in the grass.  The boys ran away and Niko was left to look at the small and large chunks of his hair on the concrete.  He didn’t mean to bother anybody.  He didn't ask to have this type of hair.  He didn’t ask to be different.  Sometimes he missed the Bronx but then remembered his foster sister getting shot, and his doped up foster parents he used to end up with.  He didn't want to go back, but he found himself missing it sometimes.

Nobody asked abut his hair during the rest of the school day.  Not even his teacher.  Its fine he didn't want to bother anybody.  When Andrew came to pick him up he was wearing his hoodie.  Today Neil and Andrew were coming over, so was Aaron.  Aaron practically lived with him and Kevin now though.  He said nothing on the way home.  He didn't want to bother them.  He was trying his hardest not to.  

But then he got home he went straight to the bathroom and locked the door.  He didn’t hear Kevin nor Aaron calling him.  He stared in to the mirror and glared at himself.  Disgusting. You look like a girl. He ripped off his hood and he felt something in himself crack.  His hair was clearly uneven.  Some areas you couldn’t tell but he could see how his curls on his forehead were shortened compared to the pieces on the sides.  He could tell where every spot was that had been cut, like there were circles showing him where to look.  A broken sob cut through his throat.  The tears rolled down his cheeks.  He always thought he was an ugly crier.  He grabbed his hair and pulled.  He kept pulling till he felt arms wrap around his torso.  He wanted to fight who ever they were off but he couldn't.  They grabbed his hands but they couldn't pry them from his hair.  He heard someone calling his name and found a face to that voice.  He noticed another person accompanied him in the mirror.  Holding on to him.  It wasn’t his voice he heard though.  He saw the other three at the bathroom entrance but it was Aaron standing closest to him.

“Niko its okay, let go buddy.”  He didn’t know if he meant his hands or his feelings but he let them go.  He saw more pieces of hair fall through his hands but ignored it and them screamed.  Kevin turned him around and held him again.  Kevin lowered himself to his knees to let Niko cry and scream into his neck.  He rubbed his back till he calmed down.  Neil and Andrew left to prepare some ice cream and play music.  Kevin noticed the hair that fell to the floor and so did Aaron.  It didn’t match the amount that should still be connected to his head.

Niko told them what happened at school with less emotion then he displayed before.  They were all furious but chose to keep it inside to comfort Niko.  They called the school and told them what happened.  The school apologized but Kevin still wasn't letting Niko go back to that school.  He transferred Niko to another and reassured him it was okay and it was the same distance anyways.  They took Niko to the babor shop and they evened out his hair.  He got it cut some on the sides as well, allowing the back and top to be longer.  His hair showed more off his forehead and ear piercings now.  He felt more exposed, but was happy with the hair cut.

When he meets Dan she gives him oils and creams to put in his hair.  Even showed him how to wash it too, Matt helps.  He got to meet there kids.

Allison braided his hair down for when he graduated Elementary School.  She teaches how how to do other things like twist, braids, and box braids.

When he goes to college Renee helps him bleach the ends of his hair blond.

He has nightmares often. And likes to have hot chocolate to calm his nerves. He gets irritated easily, they learn. When he gets irritated he stops talking and fidgets, tapping his foot and cracking his knuckles. 

Kevin’s night terrors slowly fade as Riko’s dark shadow fades into Nikos warm glow.

Niko definitely learns how to skateboards when Aaron gives him his old one. Kevin likes to watch them practice it together.  Just like Aaron likes to watch Kevin teach Niko Exy.  He joins a team in Middle School.  He's definitely going to be something.

Hope you guys like this.  Leave ask and suggestions about Nikoshi Doe. I would love to hear about it and write the prompts.  

[dcrbyalbright]

YATES UNIVERSITY || TASK 003

BASICS

Full Name: Darby Jane Albright

Meaning of Name: “Deer”. Her parents couldn’t agree on whether to name her Darby or Jane for the first few weeks of her life and her father won so now only her mother calls her Jane when she’s had a few Xanax 

Nickname: Darbs

Birth Date: December 11, 1999

Astrological Sign and Details: Saggiterrorist. Tbh it speaks for itself.

Birth Place: A hospital in Manhattan, New York.

Age: 21

Nationality: American

Race: White

Hair Color: Light brown.

Hair Style: Usually wavy and tangled, she frequently forgets to brush it.

Distinct Features of Face: Large blue eyes

Glasses or Contacts: NAh

Eye Color: Light blue

Scars or Distinguishing Marks: White scars on her left knee from when she fell down the stairs on molly and landed on broken glass, more on the palm from where she aught herself

Build or Body Type: Slim, tall.

Height: 5′7

Weight: 114

Speech Patterns: She falls into a vocal fry when she’s drunk but otherwise she has a clear speech pattern

Gestures: Talks with her hands when she’s excited, runs her hand through her hair often

Weakness: Her impulsivity 

FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD

Mother: Harriet Albright

Father: Lucas Albright

Mother’s Occupation: Unemployed alcoholic socialite

Father’s Occupation: US Senator for the state of New York

Family Finances: Verrrrrrry very wealthy. Her mother’s family were oil tycoons and Lucas has old money as well. 

Birth Order: Middle child

Brothers: James Albright (deceased)

Sisters: Eleanor “Leo” Albright

Other Close Family: Saffie Albright, and her aunt on her mother’s side, Georgina Albright. She’s considered kind of like the eccentric of the family, has never had a job and blows her inheritance away traveling the world and paying for psychics. Darby ran away to Georgina’s apartment frequently as a child and would sit and listen to her stories about shamans while Georgina pounded Negronis.

Best Friend: Anita de Jesus, Syre Salinger, Ellie Aldenkamp.

Other Friends: Drew Upston, Orpheus Rivera

Enemies: Formerly Leo lmao. Saf is on thin ice.

Pets: Her parents never let her have one but freshman year she had a goldfish named Billy Joel that died after a week.

Home Life During Childhood: Uhhhhh TERRIBLE. Her parents never liked her and James was always the family favorite. Darby was the rebellious one, and after her brother died things ust fell apart. Leo left, and suddenly Darby was all on her own to deal with her cold, strict father and her mother’s drug abuse. Darby started popping her mom’s pills during this time and no one even noticed the girl slipping into addiction until she made a drunken toast as a benefit party detailing everyone in the room she had hooked up with. After that, her father just pretended like Darby didn’t exist.

Town or City Name(s) Where They’ve Lived: New York, Amsterdam (briefly, after she took a a semester off)

What Did His, Her or Their Bedroom Look Like: A mix of expensive mid-century modern furniture all chosen carefully by New York’s top interior decorator and sprinkles of her rebellion. Clothes everywhere, her antique dressed paper-mached with magazine clippings, music spilling out of a record player she hauled from the antique collection in their basement. Drugs hidden in various shoes and secret hiding spaces in between books. Towering stacks of novels and literary works.

Any Sports or Clubs: She was on the cheerleading team briefly but got kicked off when she was found doing whippets in hr private school bathroom and nearly got expelled 

Favorite Toy or Game: She actually liked Monopoly she’s secretly competitive as hell

Schooling: Private schools that she excelled even though she rarely attended class

Favorite Subject: English

Popular or Loner: Popular

Important Experiences or Events: Her brother’s death, watching her mom’s addiction, Leo leaving her.

Health Problems: A drug addiction that she’s precariously sober from

Religion and beliefs: Raised going to church even though neither her or her father believe in anything but it Looks Good yknow

PERSONAL

Bad Habits: Biting her nails, not brushing her hair, shoplifting things she doesnt need and could pay for

Best Characteristic: Charming

Worst Characteristic: Stubborn

Worst Memory: The day James died in the hospital

Best Memory: Probably running around Central Park playing hide and seek with James and Leo.

Proud of: Her sobriety, her spot as he debate team captain at Yates

Embarrassed by: Her lack of ability to commit to anything, whether that’s a person or sobriety

Driving Style: Erratic, as she never formerly learned how to drive but instead taught herself (NY kids yknow)

Attitude: Pessimistic, nihilistic

Fears: Ending up like her mother

Secrets: The hit and run her and Anita were responsible for, the death she inadvertently caused when she shared bad drugs with her dealer last year. 

Regrets: Her tense relationship with her sister all these years

Feels Vulnerable When: She feels out of control, when her past is brought up, when people try to get her to open up

Short Term Goals and Hopes: uhhhh I guess just keep passing her classes? Lmao she’s just trying to graduate

Long Term Goals and Hopes: Can’t picture herself living in five years but if she does she wants to finally write a novel

Sexuality: Pansexual

Day or Night Person: Night person

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert

Optimist or Pessimist: Pessimist

LIKES AND PREFERENCES

Music: Fleetwood Mac, Billy Joel (cheesy ik), Neil Young. Anything her brother used to play for her

Foods: Twizzlers

Drinks: Gin and tonic

Color: Very very very light blue

Jewelry: the vintage rings Georgina brings to her whenever she visits

Greatest Want: No one look at her she just wants to be loved

Greatest Need: Uh to find stability lmao

LIFESTYLE

Favorite Possession: Her record player

Married Before: Nah

Children: NO

Relationship with Family: Tense and critical

Car: Does not have one

Dream Career: Unemployed woman who lounges around all day while men bring her things and she writes occasionally to great fanfare

Love Life: A MESS she keeps falling for people who like someone else someone hold her :/ secretly she always goes for unavailable people

Hobbies: Making “collages”, reading, writing, fucking people from Tinder

Talents or Skills: Uh she can open champagne with a sword??

[100storiesin2020]

Chapter 7: Columbia, Part 1

Come read on AO3!

*

It had been a very long week of practices. Blue had been far above her teammates back in Henrietta, but now that she was playing on a college team her new teammates were -literally- running circles around her. Drat that Neil. He hadn't spoken to her much since that first meeting. She wasn't sure if he was treating her differently because of what happened with Mr. Gray, or if it was simply that he struggled with new people. Kevin was also the bane of her existence. It was clear that he resented her presence on the team and didn't think that Neil had picked well. And that whiny little voice! At least try to make a goal. Fuck him.

Her Raven boys hadn't been having much more luck than she had. Gansey had somehow managed to offend nearly every single one of the Foxes individually. She'd overheard him accidentally being condescending to Allison. He got in a fight over some inconsequential history detail with Kevin on Tuesday and they hadn't spoken since. Blue wasn't sure what the problem with Aaron and Andrew were, but figured the twins didn't need much to be set off. Neil and Renee each seemed to distrust him on principle. Gansey's only good relationships on the team were with Dan and Matt, and that was because Gansey treated Dan with absolute, unfailing respect.

As for Ronan and Adam, it was going about as well as Blue could hope. Ronan hadn't gotten into any fights, and Adam was on neutral ground with everyone so far. Neither of them trusted any of the Foxes, but maybe that would come with time. They'd decided not to come out to the team until everyone was more comfortable with each other, which Gansey and Blue had promised to respect. Also, Gansey and Blue had a private betting pool on who would figure out their relationship first (the Foxes' gambling habits were addictive). Blue's money was on Renee.

Blue woke up on Friday morning feeling terribly homesick. It was nice to be on her own, but change was hard, and this morning she missed it all. The constant chatter of Fox Way. The quiet of her small bedroom. The tree with her father in the backyard. The knowing eyes of her mother. Carla's brashness. Persephone's oddities. Noah.

Noah would have loved to come to Palmetto, Blue thought as she cried silently.

Just as she was preparing to get up, she heard noises from the other side of the room. Crap. Up until this point, Blue had been the first awake every morning, and nobody had seen her without makeup yet. She only wore foundation. The other Foxes probably wouldn't judge her for her scars, but she didn't feel like explaining them. Maybe the other girls would leave her be and she could sneak to the bathroom later.

No such luck. Allison poked her head up over the side of the bunk. "Rise and shine, freshman."

"Go away."

"Oh my god, are you crying?" Even better. Blue sat up and turned to Allison to give her a proper tongue lashing but froze at the astonished look she received. Allison continued to stare for several seconds before breaking the silence again. "Damn, girl, you look like someone tried to gouge your eye out."

Blue threw a pillow at her. "Someone did. Go away." Blue threw the covers over her head and, blessedly, Allison left without another word.

Blue listened as the girls got ready, waiting for Allison to tell them all what had happened, but she never did. She woke up Dan and Renee and hustled them to the kitchen with promises of coffee, leaving Blue alone. Blue immediately jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to put on her foundation. Then she got dressed and joined the others for breakfast.

Everything was as it had been for the last few days. Dan was throwing frozen waffles in the toaster and singing some dorky Disney song. Allison was sitting across from Renee, looking entirely too awake for a morning and chatting away, and Renee was sleepily sipping coffee and ignoring the other two. "Oh hey, Blue!" Dan said. "Want a waffle?"

Blue took a waffle and a container of yogurt and sat at the table, eyeing Allison. Allison looked at her and shook her head briefly before returning to her one sided conversation with Renee. She hadn't told the other girls, then. Blue contemplated that as she ate her waffles. She disliked Allison. Her constant perfection grated on Blue - the hair, the makeup, the expensive and tasteful clothes. In nearly all respects Allison strove to fulfill the feminine attributes as defined by the patriarchy. Also, she was a jerk.

She did have some nice biceps, though. Blue would give her that.

"So, Blue, what are your plans for the weekend?" Dan asked, sitting across the table with her own plate of waffles."

"Oh, yeah, its Friday already." What a week. "I promised Andrew I would go to Columbia with them tonight."

Dan's face turned hard. "You don't say," she said flatly. She stood, abandoning her waffles, and marched out the front door.

"That short little Monster dared to invite you to Columbia, did he?" Allison snorted. "Dan will never allow it."

"Why not?" Blue demanded.

"You haven't heard what he does there! The last person he took chose to hitchhike back rather than spent another minute with them."

Blue snorted. "Was it Neil?"

Allison laughed. "Who else would pull a stunt like that?"

"I will have to risk it. I did promise. I owe him for it."

"Keeping promises is the best way to get to Andrew," Renee said. The coffee was finally kicking in and she looked at least semi-awake. "He will respect you for it."

At that point the door opened and Dan returned, looking much calmer. "You have my blessing for Columbia." She took a seat and dug into a waffle as Allison stared at her. 

"But what about-"

"It's okay, babe," Renee cut her off, smiling sweetly. "It'll be different this year, and I think Blue can take care of herself."

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

They had just finished afternoon practices and Blue was starting to feel like she had been forgotten. As the team was leaving the building, she sidled up next to Neil. "So what's the plan for Columbia tonight? I haven't heard anything yet."

"We're going out for ice cream and then to a club," he responded. "Leaving at 5. Wear all black, if you have it."

Blue rolled her eyes at his smirk. Her neon exercise clothes were awesome, thank you very much. "I'll manage the black, but I am a little underage for a club. As are you, I believe."

"Not a problem."

"Okay then. What time will we be back?"

Neil seemed surprised at that question, the oblivious fool. "Oh, Nicky has a house in Columbia. We usually stay there overnight. That way we can be out late and drive back sober the next day."

Blue nodded. "Sounds good."

At that moment Gansey went past. "What sounds good?" he asked with a smile.

"Oh, I'm going to Columbia with Andrew and Neil and..." she trailed off.

"Kevin, Aaron, and Nicky. We're going for ice cream and to show Blue around the city," Neil finished smoothly. Apparently he didn't think Gansey would approve of the club.

Gansey nodded. "I hope you have a splendid time, Jane. Could I perhaps join you?"

"No, you and Adam are leaving to attend your mother's event tomorrow."

"That's tomorrow?" 

Blue rolled her eyes, but fondly. "Yes, it's tomorrow. You and Adam are going back to the tower to grab the bags you packed earlier today, and then you're leaving." Gansey looked relieved. "Now you boys stay out of trouble, and don't do anything that I would do."

Neil laughed. "Shouldn't you say, don't do anything I wouldn't do?"

"No, no, she was quite correct the first time," Gansey laughed. "You would have appreciated the scathing remarks at the last thing Jane attended. The Senator was scandalized. I'll see you later, Jane!" He hugged her close before leaving.

Neil watched him go with a bemused expression. "Is... is he alright in the head? He seems very forgetful."

"Oh, he's alright. The second time he died really messed with his sense of time."

"The second time he WHAT?"

"Oh, look, its Ronan. I've got to go talk to him. See you tonight!" Blue sprinted toward the BMW and hopped into the passenger seat just before it roared to life. She threw on her seatbelt as he peeled out of the lot, leaving a very confused Neil staring after them. "Hey, do you have any spare black shirts I can have?"

"Why, maggot?"

"I'm apparently going to a club with Andrew and Company tonight, and I've been informed that the dress code is all black."

Ronan laughed, a harsh sound. "Do you even own anything that is solidly black?"

"Why do you think I'm asking you?" Ronan groaned. "Also, I know you can just dream yourself a new shirt."

Ronan raised an eyebrow at her before turning his attention back to the road. "I'm surprised you don't just ask me to dream you a whole outfit."

"I don't trust you to get it right." Also, she enjoyed the making of things.

"I'm not giving you my stuff."

"Don't be such a shithead."

"Fine," he snapped, "but you owe me. Also you're getting a failed dream shirt."

Blue grinned. This was going to be fun.

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

It was obvious why Ronan had dubbed this shirt a failure. It was massive, longer than Blue was tall, and ripped through as if attacked with knives, or perhaps clawed through by a night horror. That said, the fabric was sturdy but soft, and it was one of the most fascinating things Blue had ever looked at. If you inspected it closely, it was definitely a solid black. Or was it? Seen from the corner of your eye, it swirled with overtones of color, like the sheen of an oil slick, always there but just out of sight.

Blue had a great time transforming it in the hour before she had to leave. She chopped off the bottom just above her knees, leaving it ragged. She used the rips as a starting point to pleat the fabric in odd directions, pulling it in on itself again and again until it finally fit around her waist, then belted it with a silver ribbon. She had silver knee high boots to match (a lucky secondhand find) and some black fingerless gloves which she had knitted for Ronan (it wasn't her fault they had shrunk in the wash). The girls whistled when she strode out into the living room area.

"You look beautiful, Blue," Renee said, sweet as always. "You are obviously quite talented."

"I can't believe you threw that together in an hour," Dan added.

Allison looked up from her phone, gave her a cursory once-over, and went back to texting. Silence was better than the cutting insults Blue had been receiving all week, so she would take that gladly. She said farewell to the girls and headed out the door, clothes for the next day packed in her backpack.

Ronan was waiting for her in the hallway, leaning casually against the door with a small duffle bag and Chainsaw on his shoulder. "Ready to head out, maggot?"

Blue raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize you were invited."

Ronan snorted. "As if I'd miss an opportunity to drink."

"He totally invited himself," Nicky called as he came down the hallway. "Knocked on our door and asked when we were going, wouldn't take no for an answer. Hold on, is that a bird?" Chainsaw cawed and flapped her wings, making Nicky duck. "Okay, you have a pet crow-" "Raven" "-raven, good god you're terrifying. Hot, but terrifying. Anyway, y'all ready to head out?"

Blue eyed him for a minute. "I'm ready as soon as I get some of that glitter you're dusted with."

"You're not getting fucking glitter in my car, maggot. And I'm not riding in that orange monstrosity."

"Hey, my orange monstrosity has quite the pedigree, I'll let you know." Ronan laughed. "But I suppose I've inflicted enough torture on you today." They followed Nicky into the parking lot where the other four were already in Andrew's Maserati. Nicky hopped in the backseat of the BMW to give directions in case the cars got separated, but sat as far to the side as possible after Ronan buckled in Chainsaw.

Once they were on the road, Blue asked, "How come Nicky can get glitter in your car and I can't"

"Nicky didn't steal my shirt, you fucking menace. Also, there's still some back there from the last time Henry decided to deck himself out."

"Who's Henry?" Nicky asked.

"A friend from Henrietta," Blue replied. "He didn't play Exy with us, but he'll be coming to school here in the spring semester, so you'll get to meet him at some point."

"Can't escape him forever," Ronan muttered.

"Shut up, you like Henry."

"He's a worse fucking nuisance than you are."

"And yet you still hang out with him. Anyway, Nicky, I think you'll like him. He's loud and fun and loves glitter as much as Noah does."

"Who is Noah?"

"Someone I miss a lot," Blue said sadly. The rest of the ride was mostly silent, beyond random chirping of kerah from the backseat. Nicky started to quietly give directions as they neared the city, and soon they pulled up to a place called Sweetie's.

Ronan pulled up next to the Maserati and everyone got out of their respective cars. "Guys!" Nicky yelled. "I can't believe I survived a trip sitting next to that omen of death!"

"Oh fuck off, Nicky, Chainsaw is harmless."

"You sure about that?" Ronan asked, grin sharp enough to slice.

"Actually, no. Not when Nicky has been pissing you off," Blue conceded. Nicky was apparently too intimidated by Ronan to flirt directly, but kept hitting on Adam. Adam was amused. Ronan was not.

"What did I do?" Nicky yelped as Chainsaw swooped at his head. Blue and Ronan laughed, and surprisingly Aaron and Neil did as well. As soon as those two realized they were both laughing at the same thing, they gave each other a look and turned away, pretending that it had never happened. Interesting. The whole group started walking into Sweeties, Kevin insisting all the while they will never let a bird in here. Ronan just shrugged and whistled, holding out his arm. Chainsaw landed, claws digging into his leather jacket. Blue had stolen the jacket and modified it to have more padding in the places Chainsaw liked to land. Ronan had never acknowledged it, but he wore the jacket more often now, and that was all the thanks Blue could ever ask for. Ronan tucked Chainsaw close to his chest as they walked in.

The group claimed a table that seemed to be a regular spot for Andrew and Co, as Blue had dubbed them. She'd heard the upperclassmen calling them "the monsters," of course, but didn't care for the nickname. She'd met real monsters. She suspected these boys had, too.

Nicky ordered the ice cream special for the table and Ronan added some baskets of fries. Chainsaw cawed only once before Ronan shoved a fry in her beak. The waitress sent them many sidelong glances, but as long as Chainsaw was quiet, she seemed reluctant to throw out a group of regulars. Blue sat back and observed the table as everyone ate. Andrew was staring out the window with Neil pressed into his side (there really wasn't room at this table for everyone). Occasionally they would mutter to each other in what sounded like Russian. Aaron was texting and sometimes getting dragged into conversation with Kevin. Nicky was chatty and bubbly and barely getting any ice cream into his mouth because of it. He was the only one really talking, Blue realized. He looked tired and stressed below the smile, as if he were trying too hard to be the happy one and needed a break. Blue knew that look. She wore it herself, sometimes.

Just like that, Nicky pulled her into the conversation. "So tell us how you and Gansey met."

I'm never making eye contact with him again, she grumbled to herself. "Well he insulted me at my job, accidently calling me a prostitute, and then I ran into him again the next day when he came to my mom for a reading."

Nicky stared at her. "Well, we don't have time to unpack all of that," he gave his best Mulaney impression. "But I'd really like to. A prostitute? Really?"

Blue grinned. "Not in those words."

"She sure put him in his place," Ronan added. "You should have seen his face."

"Yeah, I about strangled him when y'all showed up that next day," she laughed.

"So what do you mean, they came for a reading?" Nicky asked.

Blue sighed. She had gone a whole week without telling anyone but Renee, and now she was basically telling the whole team by telling Nicky. "My mom is a psychic," she explained. "A legit one. Her readings aren't always precise, but they're always true. And if you're one of the 'lucky' ones to get a precise one, well."

Nicky immediately launched into a spiel about how he'd been to a lot of psychics. They all sounded fake, in her opinion. Too much drama, not enough soul, as all fake psychics were. "So can you do a reading for me?" he asked excitedly.

"No, I didn't inherit any of the psychic talent." Still a sore point. "I sat in on a lot of readings, and I could definitely pass myself off as a faker, but there's no talent there."

"Adam could probably do a reading if you asked nicely," Ronan muttered.

Nicky beamed. "Is he a psychic?"

"Yes, my sort-of-aunt Persephone taught him. Though if you really want to talk to a true psychic, you should ask Wymack." The whole table gave her startled looks. "Come on, guys. How do you think he finds troubled kids?" Kevin nodded at that, looking thoughtful. 

Nicky wasn't to be deterred. "Could Adam maybe use his fancy psychic skills to help me win some bets?"

"Not a chance."

"Too bad. There's some good pots out there."

"Really? What on?" Blue asked.

"Oh, the usual. Most of the big ones involve all of you, though, so if I tell you I risk spoiling them."

Ronan turned to Aaron. "What exactly do I need to do to make this annoying dipshit lose money?"

Aaron looked up from his phone and gave a small shrug before continuing to text. "There's a bet on when you'll fight someone, a bet on your relationship status, and one on your sexuality." Blue was surprised. That was the longest sentence she had ever heard from him, as well as the least assholish one.

"My sexuality isn't a fucking gambling pot," Ronan snarled. "It's none of your fucking business." He stood up, making Chainsaw squawk in indignation as he pushed Blue and Kevin out of the bench so he could stomp off.

Blue didn't follow, but she did kick Nicky in the shins. "That's a horrible thing to bet on."

"It's not the first time," Kevin said. "They had a similar bet last year when-" he cut off with a grunt as Aaron imitated Blue's kicking technique. "Hey!"

"Shut up, you'll ruin the pot!"

Oh, that was interesting. Blue would have to think about that exchange. The topic turned to Exy strategy as they finished their ice cream, just in time for Ronan to come back to the table. Andrew left a pile of money on the table, enough for the ice cream and a good-sized tip. Blue added another $10 on behalf of Chainsaw as they headed out the door. "Where are we going next?" she asked.

"Eden's."

[lesbianrobin]

Im dying to know, do you have any holiday-themed Steve, Robin, Party, etc. headcanons?

god you KNOW i do!!! first of all i celebrate christmas and i dont rly know anything about other holidays this time of year so im just gonna... work on the assumption that they all celebrate christmas, but if anyone who doesnt celebrate or celebrates something else wants to reblog and add their own hcs i encourage it!!! okay this is gonna be so scattered but:

steve never really liked christmas very much. it was always just stressful and he hated having to spend time with his family and he always got like the most generic expensive boring gifts from his parents and it just wasn't really fun... the first christmas he really got into it was the christmas he spent with nancy and after they broke up, he was like oh christmas just fucking sucks!! but then...

that next christmas dustin invites him over for christmas eve and he brings a pie that he bought from the grocery store and claudia thanks him a million times and he wishes that he'd baked it himself so he didn't feel so guilty

dustin gives him a little baseball bat ornament and claudia is like "oh i thought you played basketball!" and steve is like "oh uh i do but i like baseball too :)" and he and dustin kinda smile at each other and steve ruffles his hair and they watch rudolph on tv and steve is like oh christmas.... is good......

speaking of dustin he always starts thinking about christmas gifts in like october but somehow ends up with absolutely nothing on december 20th and he has to run around in a panic finding gifts for the party

he drinks hot chocolate like a maniac... he doesnt drink water the entire month of december it's hot chocolate or it's nothing

hes one of those people who will say "come on it's christmas!!!" on like the tenth

lucas is one of those people who will say "no asshole it's december tenth"

lucas loves christmas!! he just thinks that it's a day and not a whole fucking month!!! he thinks anything before like december 15th is too much

the only thing he hates about christmas is that his parents always make him and erica pick out gifts for each other with no help from them... and since erica is an evil genius she always gets lucas the perfect gift just so she can hold it over his head for the entire year when he accidentally gets her a toy she already owns

she literally watches him open his present like >:) and lucas is pissed when it's this extremely specific action figure that he's wanted for a long time but he swears he never even mentioned it to anybody

and then he just sits there feeling like a stupid asshole as she unwraps a random doll that lucas figured she might like since its hair looks kind of sort of vaguely like erica's and she's like "thanks lucas :) i think i have this one already but it's sweet" and his parents are like "hey it's the thought that counts! erica see your brother knows what you like :)" and she's like "yeah :)" and then as soon as their parents aren't looking she sticks her tongue out at lucas and he sticks his out back at her

the sinclairs have such a disgustingly perfect christmas like they bake cookies together and shit it's adorable

speaking of adorable families the byers house is so full of love on christmas

almost all of the ornaments on their tree are handmade little crafts from when will and jonathan were younger and they buy tinsel at the dollar store and just go fucking ham with it their tree always looks like a hobby lobby threw up

growing up joyce would usually try to get them some things they need on christmas and then like one or two special things for each of them and she could never buy the fancy new toys that were in all the ads on tv and in magazines but she knows her boys.... jonathan got his first camera on christmas and it was from a secondhand store and kind of dinged up and definitely old as shit but he loved it..... will always got some new construction paper and crayons or markers so by the end of christmas day joyce would have new drawings to put up on the fridge or a new little ornament that he made for her.....

sometime in november jonathan would always be like "okay will i have a secret mission for you, you need to find out something mom needs that we could give her for christmas!" and will would be like "you have to say your mission should you choose to accept it" and jonathan would say "well i know you're gonna accept the mission" and will's like "jonathannnnn" and jonathan would be like "okay fine your mission should you choose to accept it" and will would be like >:) im a spy >:)

so little baby will would action roll around the house humming the mission impossible theme and peeking around walls at joyce and then after like a week he'd say "i think mom needs a stool she keeps jumping to try and reach stuff high up in the cabinets" and jonathan's like awesome thanks and he finds a cheap folding stool and some chocolates that he can afford with whatever money he has saved up and he has will wrap it because he figures it's like ten times cuter that way and joyce cries when she sees the little christmas card will put with the stool for her

i'm going way more in depth than i need to thvjdjcd but basically the byers house is all love man... so much love ..... they don't use colored lights anymore they only use the solid strands but they still have fun decorating together and will makes paper chains and stuff to hang up and i'm about to make myself cry

so!! this is getting super long fjvndmcmd

nancy is absolute dogshit at buying presents for people she's just terrible at it. she always just asks mike and holly and her parents what they want and buys exactly what they tell her and if they don't tell her anything then she has like a mental breakdown about it and panics and buys like. a flannel pajama gift set from the department store.

when she's dating steve he tells her not to worry about getting him anything which she takes at face value until her mom asks what she's giving steve like three days before christmas and then she starts panicking and she goes to a sporting goods store and just asks the first employee she sees what a teenage boy who plays basketball might like

steve can't tell if he should be like happy or vaguely offended that his girlfriend gave him like shoe deodorizers and a water bottle and socks for a sports team that he doesn't root for... she tried though and thats all he cares about

she and jonathan agree they'll exchange gifts but nothing over like MAX fifteen bucks which is easy she just finds a tape or a record she thinks he'll like and she's set (she spends a full hour in the music store and almost just gets a gift certificate for him but eventually she just says fuck it and picks some random shit she's never heard of and hopes he likes whatever it is)

mike on the other hand is actually like... insanely good at gift giving because he pays close attention to the people he cares about and he just like Knows if lucas or dustin or will is gonna like something

he just doesnt really buy into christmas all that much?? it's cool to get free stuff and eat cookies and all but he thinks people make it into a bigger deal than it should be

holly still believes in santa though so he likes seeing how excited she gets on christmas... it warms his cold tween boy heart.....

the first christmas he gets to spend with el he turns into a fucking christmas enthusiast and he makes her hot chocolate and gives her a tape full of christmas songs and he asks his mom for a bigger gift allowance because he has a GIRLFRIEND now and she's never- uh, THEY'VE never celebrated christmas TOGETHER so it has to be SPECIAL MOM!!!!

karen is like buddy calm down but it's so nice to see him excited about something again that she caves and gives him like forty bucks and tells him not to tell nancy or his dad

el and hopper christmas... i cannot go into detail or i WILL cry but hopper takes her with him to pick out their tree and she's so meticulous about it like examining all of them and he's just standing there in the cold freezing his ass off letting her do her thing because she's so excited that he doesn't have the heart to tell her they're basically all the same and to just hurry up and pick one

he gives her a lot of books... there are so many books under their ugly fucking tree because el picks one thats extremely crooked because she says it seems nice and hopper cant find any of his old decorations so they have to start from scratch...

el enlists the whole party for help finding hopper a present because it has to be the best present of all time!!!! they're like well what does he like and she's like uh tv.... coffee.... gun...... and they're like uh we can get him a coffee mug?

so on christmas morning el presents him with a "BEST DAD" mug full of candy and he hugs her so she won't see that he's fucking crying

she also gives max a drawing she did of max as wonder woman and it isn't very good but max says it's her favorite present she's ever gotten and she keeps it folded up in her nightstand

max has mixed feelings about christmas

i should not have saved her for last this is depressing

fuck her family fuck all of that okay max spends christmas eve with the sinclairs and christmas day with el because her mom and neil don't really feel like celebrating this year and so for the first time in a long time her christmas is full of love and joy and hopper makes them cinnamon rolls for breakfast which el has never had before and it's great

the party usually does a big gift swap and they don't get each other anything too fancy or expensive but it's sweet... they all gather in mike's basement like the day after christmas and eat the leftovers from the wheelers' christmas dinner and give each other comics and action figures and dice

once robin enters the picture she and steve lowkey get smashed on christmas eve together off peppermint schnapps and they play rockin around the christmas tree like ten times and jump around until they get dizzy...

they give each other little things like every other day leading up to christmas so by the end of december they've exchanged gifts like ten times but it isn't their FAULT okay!!! steve just saw these earrings and thought of her so he got them... and robin couldn't just leave that wham! crop top sitting in the store...... and steve couldn't resist the cheap bff necklaces he found while looking for a gift for erica....... and what is robin meant to do, ignore the stuffed kermit doll she saw in a store window?

it's just unrealistic

i like to think that everybody gathers at the byers house for lunch or dinner on christmas eve... they just hang out and exchange presents and make cookies and watch christmas movies and argue over which ones suck and which ones are actually good...... they just spend time together without any fear or danger and it's good

[forestwater87]

Secret Santa 2019, Ch. 3

July 8, 2016

7:29 PM

“Ohh, goodness.” David clutched his hands close to his chest, eyes darting around them as they crossed the near-empty parking lot toward Muffin Tops. He huddled closer to Jasper’s side despite the oppressive heat. “Oh my gosh.”

“Will you fucking chill?” Gwen snapped, David’s nervousness clearly getting to her as well. “It’s not like you’re gonna be up on stage.”

“Okay, but I vote we get him up there at the first opportunity,” Jasper cut in, smiling despite the fact that he was feeling pretty weird himself. It wasn’t like he normally took his friends to strip clubs in his spare time, after all. He wasn't that kind of guy (namely, a frat bro or the President). “I bet we could talk Bon into it if the place is dead enough.”

David’s fingers dug into his sleeve, hard enough to drag blunt painful lines down his arm. “Don’t!” he cried, once again glancing around.

Jasper leaned in and kissed David’s temple, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It’s all good,” he assured him. “And none of our campers are local this year, so you don’t have to keep worrying about parents seeing us.”

“I’m not . . .” He trailed off, seeming to realize that it wasn’t worth trying to lie. His shoulders slumped defeatedly as Jasper ushered them into Muffin Tops. “Thank you,” he murmured, slipping inside, and he knew it wasn’t just for holding the door.

“Always,” he replied, and they fell into step behind Gwen. 

Or -- took a few steps, then immediately stopped because she had faltered to a halt, looking around the dim, noisy space with a panicked look in her eyes.

He leaned in close to David’s ear and said, “Remember Davey, we’re being supportive.”

His eyes widened and he stood upright with a start, like he’d just been caught falling asleep in the middle of a camp activity. “Oh! You’re right!” He pulled away from Jasper, bouncing up to Gwen’s side. “Where should we sit, CBFL?” he chirped; his enthusiasm was a little too child-friendly for this situation, but Jasper watched, impressed, as David led her to a booth near the back of the club with the determined good-naturedness of a sheepdog, settling her in and immediately hopping up to get drinks. “Would you like anything, Jasp?”

“Beer’s fine. Literally whatever’s closest.” He took a seat across from Gwen, and for a moment they both watched David disappear into the gloom. “Doing okay, sport?” he asked; they both winced at his profound dorkiness, but he tried to shake it off. “You look nice.”

She chuckled self-consciously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You sure?” For once they didn’t have to wear their counselors’ uniforms, and Gwen had blown her hair up like a 60s soap opera star and done . . . something to her face; Jasper wasn’t sure what, but it kind of made her look like a magazine cover version of herself. (If he’d ever managed to get his face to look like that, he’d probably stare into a mirror until he died of starvation like Narcissus. He resolved to look up men’s makeup later, just for the hell of it -- even though he’d probably come across more like an overweight vampire than David Bowie.) They’d had to talk her out of calling the whole thing off when she’d emerged from her room looking dressier than Jasper and David combined, but in the flashing colors and low light of the club Gwen looked infinitely more like she belonged than Jasper did in his vintage -- which was really a nice way to say “old and kind of trashy” -- technicolor clothes and David’s impossibly wrinkle-free polo shirt and jeans.

Jasper suddenly realized how improbable the three of them looked together, like they came from different planets. A supermodel, a Mormon missionary, and a sentient pile of thrift-store rejects walk into a strip club . . .

“Gwen,” he said sincerely, “I would bet a hundred bucks you could take anyone in here home if you wanted to.”

She snorted, looking pleased despite herself. “And yet it’ll just be you two.”

He leaned back, grinning. “I know,” he agreed, catching sight of David weaving through the tables, which were finally starting to fill up. “Aren’t you lucky?”

David set their drinks down with the grace of a bartender (which he was, the rest of the year) and slid into the booth next to Jasper. “Well, Gwen,” he said, folding his hands on the table like he was going to pray, “what do you think?”

She froze with her glass halfway to her mouth, eyes wide and wary. “About what?”

“All this, of course!” He gestured around the room, where a steady stream of people were picking their way through the tables scattered like islands through the low warehouse; where women, wearing glittery scraps of nothing that caught the lights like fireflies, were ferrying drinks to and from the bar and flirting with apparent regulars. No one was onstage at the moment, but there was an expectant hum underneath the pounding music, and two poles were lit up by spotlights. “Where should we begin?”

“Begin . . . what?” Gwen glanced over at Jasper, looking like she was regretting every recent decision. He shrugged, thinking that maybe David was being too supportive now and wondering if he could possibly tone that shit down before something really stupid happened.

The sunshine drained from David’s face slightly, and he also turned to Jasper. “Gee, I don’t know.”

They were both looking at him, and he groaned. “Well, I don’t know either! Pretty sure the only place I’ve ever been like this was some . . . furry vore land in Second Life. That was a weird afternoon -- remind me to tell you about it later,” he added to Gwen, winking. “Why don’t we just ask Bon?”

David’s face brightened as Gwen’s paled. “We so don’t need to --”

“What a neat idea, Jasp! Come on!” David leapt to his feet, taking Jasper’s hand before giving Gwen an appraising look. “. . . On second thought, maybe you should wait here. With . . .” He widened his eyes, jerking his head in her direction with all the subtlety of Groucho Marx.

Jasper reminded himself to never allow his boyfriend to consider a career in espionage. “What exactly are you expecting me to do? Tackle her if she makes a break for it?”

David either didn’t hear this comment or chose to ignore it, turning away with a wave and a cheery “Be right back!” before diving back into the growing crowd. Jasper just sighed and lifted his beer, clinking it against the drink Gwen had set down on the table.

“Cheers.” When she didn’t respond, slumping back in the booth like she was going to disappear under the table, he placed his hand on her forearm. She jumped at the sudden touch, nearly knocking her glass over, and with his beer-laden arm he gingerly slid it out of her reach. “What gives, Gwengarry Gwen Ross? I thought you liked Bon.”

The dumb nickname didn’t make her smile. “I mean, I do,” she said with a miserable shrug. “But of all the people here to talk to about this? After that play disaster?”

He winced at the memory. During one of Preston’s earliest plays of the summer, Max had stolen Gwen’s phone and changed everything from her “Looking For” (all genders, “anything as long as it’s nasty”) to her photo (Neil, who was at that age where boys kind of looked like gangly, awkward young women in the right light) and had snagged the attention of one of the few eligible townies in Sleepy Peak. That debacle had ended in an extremely awkward date between Gwen and Bonquisha Harding, a woman with the body of a pro wrestler and the personality of a monster truck. They were pretty good friends now -- and the four of them got together every few weeks to watch old movies -- but he could see why it might be uncomfortable to chat with her ex about lap dances or . . . whatever.

“I mean, I told her I was straight! And now what? Like, is she gonna think I’m stalking her at work?” Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh fuck, what if she thinks I want to go out with her or something? Or what if she thinks I don’t wanna go out with her? We decided this wouldn’t work because I was straight! And if I’m not? That’s so insulting! What if --”

“Breathe, Rumpelstiltsgwen.” She glared at him -- he had to admit, it wasn’t his best work -- and he handed over her drink along with his beer. “I think you need this more than I do.” She took both drinks, finishing them in record time, and despite the situation he was impressed. “You must’ve been fun in college.”

She snorted, glancing over Jasper’s shoulder and swallowing hard. He turned to see David scurrying back to their table, dwarfed by the beautiful gold-glittery amazon at his side. “H -- hi, Bon,” she said weakly as they approached.

“Hey, sugar!” Bonquisha kissed the air next to Gwen’s cheek and settled into the booth. She was wearing a shimmering bikini-type-thing (he wasn’t very good with women’s clothing) that reminded him of Princess Leia, and sparkles were splashed across her cheekbones and shoulders like freckles made of stars. “It’s fantasy night,” she explained at his curious look, hoisting up a fake spear before turning her attention back to Gwen. “Hear you’re looking to join the other team?”

Gwen buried her face in her hands with a groan, sinking down into her chair. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Aw, come on! It’s a great place to be!” Bon spread her arms across the back of their seat and grinned at Jasper and David, a wide, expansive smile that was impossible not to return. “Right, guys?”

David looked like he wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so Jasper jumped in: “Bonnaroo, I think Gwen’s a little nervous about how to . . . you know . . .” He raised his eyebrows, not sure how to explain what exactly they were here for. “Do it. Not -- not it, but like . . . stuff. All of it. I should stop talking.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry, Gloomy,” she said to Gwen, flicking her ponytail affectionately, “we get a lotta women like that coming around here, so all the girls know it’s standard procedure. This is a good place to figure yourself out.” 

Gwen had been staring steadfastly at the table, but glanced over at Bonquisha, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Really?” she asked hopefully.

“Totally! Now, I gotta get back to work because they don’t pay me to pal around with my friends --” She winked. “-- but start by just looking, all right? You two,” she added, pointing at Jasper and David (who glanced at each other with some alarm), “you’re Gwen’s straight friends tonight, got it?”

Jasper suddenly felt like he needed a snapback and a sports jersey, maybe a shark-tooth necklace. “Guess we should get more beer,” he said to David, shrugging. “The more it tastes like horse pee, the better.”

“My man!” Bon held out her fist, and Jasper bumped it (feeling like the single whitest person on earth as he did so). “I’m due up onstage now or I’d get your drinks for ya. Tip Brandi well, she’s good people.” She put a hand on Gwen’s shoulder, her smile softening. “I’m proud of you, gloomy girl. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself, okay? Just have fun.”

As David escorted Bonquisha to the stage on his way back to the bar, Jasper studied Gwen’s face. She wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack, which was good, but she still seemed to have trouble looking away from the small tea light in the center of the table. 

He supposed this was where his role as “straight friend” came in. “Uhh . . . she’s cute,” he finally said, glancing across the room at a woman decked out like a mermaid, complete with shimmering waves of black hair and a blue-green tail . . . skirt . . . thing (he really wasn’t good with women’s clothing) and feeling like the single skeeviest person on earth. 

Which . . . was probably good, considering where they were. He was in character.

She glanced up, following his gaze to the mermaid in question. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Not really my type, though.” She covered her mouth as a sharp, nervous laugh bubbled out of her. “What the hell am I saying? I don’t have a type. I . . . god, what the fuck am I doing . . .”

“Hey,” Jasper said, leaning forward so she had to look at him instead of spiraling further. “It’s me, brah, your straight friend Jasper.” She snorted, some of the panic fading from her eyes. “And I’m telling you, as your straight friend, that we can leave any time you want. We’re here for you, Gwen.” 

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “No pressure, right?” she asked, and the look on her face was so sincere, almost plaintive.

“Not even a single psi.” He wasn’t sure he was saying that right, having slept through most of his science classes in both high school and college. But it brought a smile to Gwen’s face, so he considered it a job well done.

She shook her shoulders, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hand, and examined the crowd with interest for the first time since they’d arrived. “All right,” she mumbled, mostly to herself. After a few seconds of silence she sat up straight again. “Oh,” she breathed, then tapped Jasper’s arm and gestured unsubtly toward a woman wearing fairy wings and wreathed in pink flowers. “She . . . uh, makes my chest feel kinda fizzy?” Her eyes met his, uncertainty mixed with excitement in her face. “Is that . . . ? ”

He glanced back in the fairy’s direction just as David bumped into her, balancing three beers. Despite his lack of hands, David steadied her with his elbow, his smile turning apologetic as he made sure she was okay before returning to their table. Their eyes locked and David’s smile widened. 

And . . . well, yes, the feeling in Jasper’s chest was somewhat fizzy, because it turned out he wasn’t very good at being straight after all. 

“Yeah,” he assured Gwen, unable to stifle a silly grin as he watched David approach. “Yeah, that’s definitely in the ballpark.”

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[sixinsultsago]

creative problem solving {andreil}

married andreil get into a bit of a domestic, but andrew figures out a way to deescalate the situation while also thoroughly entertaining himself;

aka we don't talk about neil's hatred of baseball enough

ft. future andreil!

* * *

It occurs to Andrew in the middle of the action, how ridiculous it is to storm out of a house that has his fucking name on the lease, but he has the sense not to linger at the scene of the crime with the murder weapon in his hand. Any further conversation won't end well when both of them are clutching to maladaptive habits.

So, Andrew walks away.

A hot stone drops in his stomach. A heavy, sticking weight that feels like it's lodged inside of him, accompanied by the equally well-acquainted burn of anger.

It's his house. He can't believe he has to leave his own fucking house.

Going to their second-storey balcony is entirely out of muscle memory. Andrew doesn't smoke anymore, and he runs cold on top of it; going outside no longer works to calm himself down so much as it lends ample time to dwell on why he's angry and how likely he is to lose a finger to the weather.

He's almost tempted to stay outside just for that --- less fingers makes it harder to hold a racquet; he can't be a goalkeeper without that particular talent, now can he?

Thinking about Exy isn't helping. Andrew's fingers twitch desperately around thin air.

He wants a cigarette. He wants to go back inside and sit next to his husband without the idiot running his mouth, just to try it on for size. Neither is likely to happen. It's been long enough for both things that Andrew should know better than to hope for them.

Well, no one person is capable of knowing themselves completely; Andrew never has been as smart as he thinks he is.

A brisk breeze eventually chases him back inside, although he wants to stay right where he is until he turns into an ice sculpture or something similarly unaffected by Neil Josten's --- everything.

But when he enters, downstairs is swollen with thick warmth; Neil turned on the heater while Andrew was outside.

Andrew cups his hands, throbbing dully from chilliness, over his mouth and pretends to be unaware that it was done for him. He fails. The burn in his blood cools; the stone lessens in heaviness. The idea of talking to Neil doesn't make him want to turn his own skin inside out.

This is as good as it gets.

Spesking of, the man himself is staring at the tv --- not watching, if his coiled shoulders are an indication. It is playing a rerun of an old show Andrew caught glimpses of at an old foster home. He recalls the snapshots he saw vividly: the disjointed editing, the canned studio audience laughter. He managed to watch an entire episode when he took a sick day from school.

He'd enjoyed it, until Jesse came home early.

No. Do not think about him.

He tries. That's what Andrew does these days: a whole lot of trying.

Andrew walks over and steals the remote out of Neil's slack hands.

"Sure, go ahead," Neil says dryly, shooting him a look. Andrew ignores him.

He changes channels, mentally running through grounding techniques. Andrew catalogues the leather sofa on his thighs, their shaggy rug between his toes, listens to singing crickets outside their window. Sir's rumbling purrs. Neil's careful breathing.

Neil.

Like a compass swinging north, Andrew meets Neil's eyes. Naturally, he has been staring this entire time, which isn't exactly odd after a decade of it. That doesn't mean everything is as it should be.

"You are being unusually nonconfronting," notes Andrew.

"Do you want me to start? I could mention that your height makes you look like a child throwing a tantrum when you storm out like that," Neil replies, making it perfectly clear his silence was packaged and presented like a Christmas gift for a reason. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. Or to upset you earlier. Thank you for coming back in."

"Upset me."

His tone is frigid, but Neil says, "Yeah," as if he is too dumb to be wary. Likely because he is. Andrew retreating to the closest edge is a habit. So is Neil’s disturbing lack of self-preservation in the face of a threat.

"I do not want you to talk to me about my team for now," Andrew tells him. "I'm handling it. Your shining white knight act is unnecessary and embarrassing."

"Unnecessary? Andrew, you're out and surrounded by homophobes!"

Andrew is still flicking through channels, barely lingering enough for the television to stutter through sounds. His finger presses down and forces countless actors to abort their well-rehearsed lines mid-sentence. Andrew's thoughts are similarly fragmented. This is not his favorite topic, no matter how often he finds himself talking about it.

"You are not listening."

Neil's chin juts out stubbornly. Jesus Christ.

"I don't think you are. Andrew, you aren't safe around your bullshit coach. I wish you'd trade to my team, I really do. Sandra's girlfriend watches most of our practices and no one's said a word about it. It's better for you, with me."

What Neil never addresses --- and what Andrew did only once; he hates repeating himself, especially when his conversational partner has the coloring and mental facilities of a brick wall --- is that the New York Coyotes do not need another goalie. Their defense is solid. Andrew's addition would be wasteful. A trade isn't likely to happen until their current goalkeeper retires, which isn't for another four years.

Andrew prefers Manhattan Bears' wary side-eyes than being more than a half hour drive from Neil. He's used to the 'ticking time-bomb' handling anyway.

"No." Andrew says flatly. He flicks past Fox news, some children's cartoon about ponies, a group meerkats standing on their hind legs. "Would you like to hear it in Spanish? Russian? I hear those who are multilingual can think in other languages. Perhaps that is why you aren't listening to me when I tell you to drop it."

Neil looks spectacularly unamused. He strokes Sir's fur more insistently, a stress relief that is leaving orange hair all over Andrew's black couch. He eyes the offending color briefly. He hates orange.

“Come on, Andrew…” Neil starts beseechingly. He would shift closer if he didn't have the cat on his lap.

Good work, you mangy rat, Andrew thinks loudly at Sir. The only way Andrew can win is if Neil doesn't touch him. Those pockmarked hands can bleed any sort of tension from Andrew, it's borderline suspicious.

A birds-eye view of a green field flashes across the screen, outfitted in diamond plates and bobble-headed figures barely recognizable as people. Andrew presses down. It's a medical drama now.

"--- ignoring me isn't going to work --- "

He goes back. The field, the diamonds, the people. Baseball is uninteresting in every way possible, but Andrew doesn't have any personal biases for or against the sport. He could endure an entire sitting of it with the same studied disinterest he employs when his coach goes over plays before a game.

Neil, however, cannot. He keeps talking until Andrew turns up the television. For a heartstopping moment the game doesn't appear to register, his mouth not slowed down in the slightest.

Then, a commentator crows, "What a spectacular pitch from the Phillies!"

Neil literally chokes on his next words. He swings to face the screen, scars emphasizing his disgusted expression. "What?"

"Contretras once again establishing himself as a nightmare opponent on the field---"

"Andrew," says Neil. He sounds on the verge of a meltdown. "Turn this off."

Andrew watches the redhead. He maxes out the volume. Neil makes a rude, prim noise. "Andrew."

"Hm?"

"You... You know I hate baseball."

"And you know I don't want to discuss trading teams with you," Andrew mutters back, ignoring the betrayed look burning into the side of his head. "It seems neither of us are getting what we want. So sad. Grab a tissue if you are going to weep about it."

Finally, it goes quiet. How blissful. Andrew will never take a weekend away for granted again.

Impressively Neil manages to survive through a few pitches, albeit with the twitchiness of an addict in withdrawal, before blurting: "This is a new low, even for you,"

"Oh, Neil. I am no less hindered by consideration for your feelings than usual."

The batter hits a ball with a resounding metallic clink. Neil flinches like it's a gunshot. Drama queen. "Could you just --- explain to me what you are trying to do here?"

"I am trying," Andrew gestures pointedly at the television, "to watch a game of baseball. You are talking my ears off. If you stop, I might too. Think about it."

Neil narrows his eyes. "Fine. I'll quit talking about---" Andrew presses his hand against his mouth, feels Neil's jaw tense under his palm. "What now."

"I said, think about it. Go and do that." Andrew waves him impatiently away, hoping that Neil will take the easy way out for once. "I will not be moving,"

"Will you stop watching this pathetic excuse for a fucking sport if I do," Neil's sarcasm is barely muffled. He already looks resigned. It bodes well.

"Yes."

"Well, aren't you bratty tonight," says Neil with no apparent sense of irony, getting up from the sofa and striding into the kitchen. He flicks on the kettle, grumbling the entire time. Andrew, in acknowledgement, turns down the television until it is nearly mute.

To be honest, he didn't think this would work. Amusement bubbles through his chest. He is still mad, but he can take enjoyment from Neil's pout nevertheless. Andrew is a multi-tasker.

As Neil deliberately clatters around making himself a cup of tea, Andrew records the game currently playing.

He has a feeling this method of silencing Neil can be recycled many more times before it loses its effectiveness.

[resilientsovl]

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME:  samuel  william  winchester. PRONUNCIATION:  pronounced  how  it’s  spelled. MEANING:  so  from   the  hebrew  name  שְׁמוּאֵל,  it  means  god  has  heard,  or  name  of  god.  it’s  a  little  ironic  considering  sam  is  lucifer,  god’s  fallen  son’s,  true  vessel.   REASONING:  sam  was  named  after  his  maternal  grandfather,  samuel  campbell. NICKNAME(S):  sam,  sammy,  little  winchester,  moose,  738273  other  height  related  nicknames. PREFERRED NAME(S):   sam. BIRTH DATE:  may  2,  1983. AGE:  honestly  he’s  not  sure.  he’s  died  3-4  times,  been  the  vessel  for  demons  and  archangels  which  probably  stalled  his  physical  aging  too.  i  say  he’s  probably  biologically  somewhere  around  35,  even  though  he’s  technically  47ish. ZODIAC: taurus. GENDER:  cismale. PRONOUNS:   he/him. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:  heteroromantic. SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  bisexual.  (  he  can  appreciate  that  men  are  attractive,  has  probably  even  slept  with  a  couple,  but  has  no  desire  to  be  in  romantic,  serious,  relationships  with  men.  ) NATIONALITY:  american. ETHNICITY:   wonderbread  white. CURRENT LOCATION:  san  francisco,  ca. LIVING CONDITIONS:   a  crappy  two  bedroom  apartment  he  rents  by  the  month.  it’s  small,  not  in  a  great  neighborhood,  but  it  does  the  trick.   TITLE(S):   n/a.

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE:   lawrence,  kansas. HOMETOWN:  technically  lawrence  kansas,  but  they  moved  around  frequently.   SOCIAL CLASS:  blue  collar. EDUCATION LEVEL:   undergraduate  degree  from  stanford.   FATHER:   john  winchester. MOTHER:   mary  winchester  (  neé  campbell  ).   SIBLING(S):   dean  winchester,  adam  milligan  (  half  ).   BIRTH ORDER:  dean,  sam,  adam.   CHILDREN:  jack  kline  (  adopted  /  unofficially  ) PET(S):   n/a. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES:  bobby  singer,  pseudo  uncle.   castiel,  pseudo  brother  /  brother-in-law.   SIGNIFICANT  OTHER:   natasha  herrera,  wife.  (  separated  ) PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS:   jessica  moore,  amelia  richardson,  meg,  sarah  blake,  ruby,  a  few  one  night  stands,  amy  pond  (  first  kiss  ),  etc.   ARRESTS?:  a  few,  yes.   PRISON TIME?:  minimal,  seen  in  folsom  prison  blues.  

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME:   credit  card  scams,  illegal  activity.   SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME:   n/a. TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME:   hunting,  but  it  pays  for  shit.   APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR:   unknown.   CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?:   this  is  never  the  job  he  wanted.  so  no,  definitely  not.   PAST JOB(S):   student.   SPENDING HABITS:  extremely  frugal,  only  on  necessities.   MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION:  john  winchester’s  journal.  

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH:   peak  physical  condition,  human,  in-shape.   OFFENSE:   extremely  skilled  with  weapons  and  hand  to  hand.   DEFENSE:  extremely  skilled  with  lethal  and  non-lethal  defensive  moves.   SPEED:  faster  than  average. INTELLIGENCE:  educated  and  above  average.   ACCURACY:   above  average. AGILITY:   above  average.   STAMINA:   above  average.   TEAMWORK:   below  average.  he  doesn’t  work  well  with  people  he  doesn’t  know  or  trust.  it  takes  time  to  develop  a  bond  /  ease  of  working  with  others.   TALENTS:   computer  skills,  digesting  information,  critical  thinking  skills. SHORTCOMINGS:   stubborn,  naive,  reckless,  deep  psychological  trauma,  suicidal  ideation,  a  nice  grabbag  of  issues.   LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN:   latin,  english,  probably  a  bunch  of  other  old,  dead,  languages  that  might  come  in  handy.  he  probably  also  took  spanish  in  school.   DRIVE?:   yes. JUMP-STAR A CAR?:   yes. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?:   yes.   RIDE A BICYCLE?:   yes. SWIM?:   yes.   PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?:   no. PLAY CHESS?:   yes. BRAID HAIR?:   no. TIE A TIE?:   yes. PICK A LOCK?:  yes.  

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM:   jared  padalecki.   EYE COLOR:   hazel. HAIR COLOR:   brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE:   long  and  flowing.   GLASSES/CONTACTS?:   n/a. DOMINANT HAND:   right.   HEIGHT:  6′4 WEIGHT:   220  ish  lbs. BUILD:   slender  but  muscular.   EXERCISE HABITS:  rigorous.  he  jogs  in  the  mornings,  does  sit  ups  /  pull  ups  at  night,  and  lifts  weights  during  the  day  in  between  cases.  he  stays  in  shape.   SKIN TONE:   tanned.   TATTOOS:   anti-possession  tattoo  over  his  heart.   it  was  carved  out  in  2026  but  the  scar  has  been  tattooed  over,  replacing  the  original.   PEIRCINGS:   none.   MARKS/SCARS:   he’s  died  and  come  back  so  many  times,  it’s  hard  to  say  what’s  still  there  and  what’s  gone.   he  does  still  have  the  bullet  wound  from  where  he  shot  chuck  though.  it  never  healed.   NOTABLE FEATURES:   nose,  hair.   USUAL EXPRESSION:   smirk  of  disbelief,  concern.   CLOTHING STYLE:   lumberjack  lesbian.   JEWELRY:    he  wears  a  chain  with  his  wedding  ring  around  his  neck,  the  one  he  never  got  to  put  on  for  real.   ALLERGIES:   none.   BODY TEMPERATURE:   normal. DIET:   not  great.  hence  the  need  to  work  out. PHYSICAL AILMENTS:   general  fatigue  from  a  rigorously  active  lifestyle.  

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE:  INFJ JUNG SUBTYPE:  Introvert(47%)  iNtuitive (34%)  Feeling(31%)  Judging(38%) You have moderate preference of Introversion over Extraversion (47%) You have moderate preference of Intuition over Sensing (34%) You have moderate preference of Feeling over Thinking (31%) You have moderate preference of Judging over Perceiving (38%) ENNEAGRAM TYPE:   the  reformer  or  the  challenger.   MORAL ALIGNMENT:  chaotic  good.   TEMPERAMENT:   melancholic.   ELEMENT:   taurus  are  usually  earth  elements,  but  i  think  air  suits  sam  better.   PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE:   logical-mathematical,  probably.   APPROXIMATE IQ:   unknown.  we  know  he  scored  a  174  on  the  LSAT,  which  is  incredible,  but  that  doesn’t  always  translate  over  to  IQ.  i  would  say  he’s  got  a  pretty  high  IQ  even  if  he  lacks  a  few  common  sense  points.   MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS:   undiagnosed  depression,  anxiety,  PTSD,  imposter  syndrome,  and  survivor’s  guilt  —  and  that’s  just  the  tip  of  the  iceberg.   don’t  ask  me  to  psychoanalyze  the  winchesters,  it’ll  break  us  all.   SOCIABILITY:   he  doesn’t  seek  it  out  but  he  can  keep  up  with  the  joneses.   EMOTIONAL STABILITY:   not  good.  he  has  exhibited  severe  signs  of  codependency,  suicidal  ideation,  lack  of  regard  for  his  own  life,  and  believe  that  he’s  cursed.  the  boy  is  a  mess.   OBSESSION(S):  vengeance  after  significant  loss,  saving  people  (  even  if  it’s  from  themselves  ),  trying  to  make  up  for  all  of  the  blood  on  his  hands.   PHOBIA(S):   clowns.  not  a  fan.   ADDICTION(S):   demon  blood  (  previously  ) DRUG USE:   no. ALCOHOL USE:  recreationally.   PRONE TO VIOLENCE?:  can  be,  yes.  

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE:  casual. ACCENT:   american.  nothing  specific.   QUIRKS:   chewing  on  pen  caps,  tapping  to  songs  on  the  radio  against  the  steering  wheel  with  his  fingers.   HOBBIES:   reading,  researching,  pool,  morning  crosswords.   HABITS:   stress  pacing,  irritability  under  extreme  pressure. NERVOUS TICKS:   jaw  clench,  nostrils  flaring,  hands  curled  into  fists.   DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS:  vengeance,  restoring  order  /  protecting  people,  survival.   FEARS:  losing  the  people  he  loves,  hurting  innocents,  isolation.   POSITIVE TRAITS:   dependable,  loyal,  protective,  determined,  strong,  honest,  vulnerable. NEGATIVE TRAITS:  impulsive,  reckless,  guilt-stricken,  naive,  obtuse,  too  trusting.   SENSE OF HUMOR:   dry,  sarcastic.   DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?:   no. CATCHPHRASE(S):  damnit, dean.    jerk  /  bitch.  

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY:   long  drives.   ANIMAL:  hedgehogs. BEVERAGE:   monster  energy  drinks.   BOOK:   probably  the  classics,  or  something  by  neil  gaiman. CELEBRITY:   he  doesn’t  have  one. COLOR:   blue.   DESIGNER:   doesn’t  have  one.   FOOD:  philly  cheesesteak.   maybe  mashed  potatoes,  if  not  the  cheesesteak.   FLOWER:   sunflowers. GEM:   none. HOLIDAY:    none.   MODE OF TRANSPORTATION:   car.   MOVIE:   mallrats.   MUSICAL ARTIST:  none.  he’ll  just  listen  to  whatever  they  have  in  the  car,  or  is  on  the  radio.  before  i  think  he  was  probably  into  top  40,  maybe  even  classic  rock  as  much  as  he  complained  about it.   QUOTE/SAYING:   none. SCENERY:   autumn  leaves  falling  from  trees.   SCENT:   linen.   SPORT:   none.  he  doesn’t  care.   SPORTS TEAM:   see  above.   TELEVISION SHOW:   none.  he  probably  only  watches  soap  operas  every  now  and  then  again.  he  doesn’t  watch  anything  he  would  have  to  invest  time  and  energy  in.   maybe  pawnstars,  or  mythbusters.   WEATHER:  drizzle.   VACATION DESTINATION:  somewhere  warm,  tropic,  and  free  of  monsters.  

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM:   to  have  a  normal  life.   he  knows  he’ll  never  get  it,  has  come  to  terms  with  the  fact  that  he  was  never  going  to  be  normal.   GREATEST FEAR:   ending  up  alone,  watching  everyone  he  loves  die.   MOST AT EASE WHEN:  around  the  people  he  loves.   LEAST AT EASE WHEN:   on  a  hunt  that’s  starting  to  go  awry.   WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN:   turning  into  a  monster  —  the  very  thing  he’s  dedicated  his  life  to  hunting,  or  becoming  evil.  being  forced  into  killing  his  own  brother,  or  someone  he  loves  like  family,  would  also  make  the  list.   BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT:  in  a  really  soft  way,  i  want  to  say  it’s  becoming  a  pseudo  dad  to  jack.  it  might  not  have  been  what  he  saw  for  himself,  or  how  he  imagined  being  a  dad,  but  he  loves  the  kid.   if  not  that,  maybe  stopping  the  apocalypse.   not  that  it  lasted  for  very  long.   BIGGEST REGRET:   not  telling  jessica  the  truth.  he  will  always  believe  he  got  her  killed.  that  guilt  will  set  with  him  until  the  day  he  dies.   MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT:   too  many  to  count.   BIGGEST SECRET:   he  remembers  a  lot  of  what  the  demon  did  when  it  possessed  him  in  2026.   he  fought  with  everything  he  had,  but  every  time  he  broke  through  they  pushed  him  back  down.   TOP PRIORITIES:  figuring  out  what  comes  next,  i  suppose.  

[pepperonijem]

Date with Ducky || Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: alcohol, I guess if you don’t like that

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: "You started to water down my drink throughout the night and I drunkenly demand to know why.” Bartender!Bucky AU

A/N: I wrote this for @wehaveabucky‘s 2.5k challenge. Congratulations again, Emmy! And thanks to @thepokyone for reading through this and helping me with a title :)

It was one of those days.

Actually, it was one of those weeks.

Every day this week seemed progressively worse than the day before, like the universe was playing some sick joke on you. On Monday, you found out that your niece used your 4 page research paper as a coloring book and had to ask your professor for an extension. On Tuesday, you found a note taped onto your car that read ‘So sorry for the scratch :(‘ and a dent on the passenger’s side door. The week never got any better after that, and today, you just needed to let off some steam. So when your best friends Natasha and Wanda invited you to go out with them to a trivia night at White Wolf, a new bar that opened in Brooklyn, you had no reason to say no and stay home, as you typically would. Tonight was going to be fun, a way to let off some steam.

You looked yourself up and down in the mirror, still having doubts about leaving your house. There was a The Office marathon on TV that was calling your name, and while tempting, you knew Nat and Wanda were already on their way. You let out a sigh as you heard a knock on your apartment door, and opened it to let in a squealing group of four -- Nat, Wanda, Steve, and Sam. You gave them a small smile and let them into your now crowded apartment. Nat and Wanda were quick to jump on the loveseat, Steve and Sam sat on the bigger couch, with Sam stretching his legs out along the length of the couch until they rested on Steve.

“What even is happening tonight?” you asked the group. “I mean, I know it’s a trivia night but how does it work?”

“Well, as Clint explained it,” Natasha began before you cut him off.

“Wait, who’s Clint?” you questioned.

“Nat met Clint in college, and they’ve been best pals ever since,” Steve explained, smiling at Natasha who nodded in response. “He’s actually a co-owner of the bar we’re going to. Said he’s working tonight.”

You nodded in understanding. “Sorry Nat,” you apologized. “So what’s happening?”

“As I was saying,” Natasha continued on. “Clint said that since it’s a trivia night, we need to come in teams, and just be ready to answer a bunch of random trivia questions. Not too difficult.”

“Alright,” you nodded back to Natasha. “I guess this is a good enough reason to keep me from binge watching The Office tonight.”

“See,” Wanda smiled. “I told you guys she would be interested.” You rolled your eyes in response. You may love The Office and all its shenanigans, but you also loved trivia. There was just something about completely useless information that really stuck to you. You just liked knowing things, and since randomly yelling out that humans start life out with 300 bones is not a good way to use that knowledge, this might actually be fun.

“So, you ready yet?” Sam asked you, folding his arms behind his head as he got more comfortable on the couch. “It’s supposed to be pretty packed tonight, so we need to get on it.”

“Yeah, I’m good to go,” you replied. You grabbed your purse and keys and headed for the door, the rest of your friends following suit.

As soon as the you entered, trailing last behind the group, you were hit with the overlapping chatter and clinking glasses that filled the bar. Your eyes scanned the room to see that the whole bar was set to live up to its moniker, with primarily white walls and furniture and hints of violet poking out in the smallest flashes of light and small accents sporadically placed throughout. This place was definitely trendy, and it was a nice change of scenery. The bar was busy, but not too crowded, which you appreciated. There was room to breathe.

As your group searched for an empty table for the five of you to settle, Steve and Natasha separated from the group throwing a quick “I’ll be right back,” over his shoulder as he made his way to the bar table. You followed closely behind Sam, who was gently nudging people out of the way, to an empty booth not too far from the side of the bar where Steve and Natasha were talking to two of the bartenders, one of whom was a handsomely rugged man shoulder-length dark hair that could make any girl jealous, and the other slightly older with short blonde hair and a wide grin. You continued to look on, trying to stay out of Sam and Wanda’s argument over what appetizer they should order. The other two noticed your gaze fixed on them and waved to you. You called him back over and they waved a quick goodbye to their friends as they slid into the booth beside you.

“Looks like Bucky is here too,” Natasha observed, looking towards the pair who were busy taking orders and performing elaborate tricks at the bar.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” you asked.

“He’s Steve’s best friend, he co-owns this bar with Clint,” Natasha explained.

“Yeah, it was busier than Clint thought it would be so he called him in,” Steve replied. “Anyway, we should be starting any time now.”

As if on cue, a deep voice came on a microphone. “Hey everyone, if you’re participating in trivia night, I’d like to ask you and your teams to come closer to the bar, and everyone else get the hell on somewhere.” The bar came together in a roar of laughter as people dispersed to allow for the teams to have a little space. You and your friends looked around and saw only a couple of other teams, much to your surprise. The voice continued, and you looked over to see that it was coming from the blonde man. “Alright folks, I’m Clint, and I’ll be your trivia master for tonight. I’ll go over the rules, and then we can get started.”

An eruption of cheers came from your table. Natasha pulled 5 homemade signs out of her purse and handed one to each of you. “I almost forgot, Sam, Wanda, and I made signs for us.” You let out a chuckle as you looked over your sign, covered in red and blue glitter with the words “NICK’S FURRIES” drawn on in scented marker. Steve looked at the sign, not understanding the pun, and Sam leaned in towards you and Wanda.

“Do not, I repeat, do not explain to Steve what a furry is,” Sam stage whispered. Steve, looking offended, opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by Clint’s voice.

“Okay, simple really,” he began to explain. “If your team knows the answer, raise your sign up, and if you get it right, congratulations, you get a point.” Clint paused. “And if not... your team has to send a person over here to take a shot of our signature whiskey.”  The crowd let out a mix of laughs and cheers. A part of you groaned, but the other half was a little bit too eager to be able to drink. “Alright let’s begin.”

“First question: What type of animal is a kolinsky?” Clint asked. Before you could finish processing the question, Sam’s sign shot up, making him first to answer. “Alright, Nick’s Furries, what do you guys have?”

“What is, a weasel.” Sam answered, scoring the team a point and confused looks from you and the rest of your group. “Who do you think came up with the team name?”

“One point to Nick’s Furries,” Clint announced as the bar filled with applause and laughter. “Also, this isn’t Jeopardy. Teams Tequila Mockingbird, Trivia Newton John, and the Quizard of Oz, take your shots!” You watched as the other three teams sent someone down to the bar where the other bar tender, smiling kindly at them, poured small amounts of whiskey into their shot glasses, and laughed as they scrunched their faces after quickly downing the shots.

Next question!” Clint pulled out the next index card and cleared his throat. “What year did Henry VIII become king of England?”

You glanced around your team, Steve’s eyebrows were scrunched up, Wanda had her hands against her temples, Natasha looked down at the table while chewing your lip, and Sam was tapping intensely against the table. You actually knew this one, and were proud to push your team into a two point head start. You raised your sign with a smug smile, and when Clint called on your team you proudly called “1547!” you watched as Clint’s face distorted into a frown.

“Sorry, pal, but it was actually 1509.” Clint corrected, with a guilty look on his face. “It’s your team’s turn to take a shot,” so you looked around at your table and got up, knowing nobody else wanted to do it. You made your way down to the bar where the shot glass lay waiting for you. The bartender smiled softly at you, despite your grimace.

“1547 was King Edward VI, doll,” he said with a slight chuckle. You rolled your eyes and quickly took the sip of whiskey, your face contorting together as the prickly liquid made its way down your throat, leaving a trail of warmth behind it.

“Oh god, what did you put literal fire in this whiskey?” you coughed, not being able to take it well. “All things considered, this may be what I needed tonight though.”

“What, the trivia?” the man asked. His clear blue eyes twinkled in amusement while you set down the glass on the counter and got up.

“No, the alcohol,” you replied with a smirk, noticing how the bartender bit his lip as he chuckled while you walked away. He was cute, you noted, and his laugh was even cuter. You were still smiling when you returned to your table, and when you couldn’t help but glance back at the cute bartender, you saw that he was too. And honestly it had you distracted for the rest of the game. Every time your team would miss the question (apparently Steve thought that Louis Armstrong was Neil Armstrong, and Wanda panicked and said a Granadilla was Godzilla’s grandmother), you volunteered to take the shot. Partly because you needed to drink away your stress, and also because making the cute bartender laugh was more and more fun after each fiery shot.

By the end of the game, you were just a little bit plastered.

“Alright folks, last question, to break the tie between Nick’s Furries and Quizard of Oz,” Clint announced. The bar erupted in cheers. “Who was the first mailman in Philadelphia?”

For a few seconds, no one answered as both teams huddled together to try and decide on an answer.

“Well, who is it?” Natasha asked in a frenzied tone.

“Hell if I know, I slept through history classes,” Sam said.

“It wasn’t Obama,” you commented, laughing to yourself.

“I’m not from here,” Wanda commented.

“Um, I have a guess,” Steve said quietly. “Probably wrong, but it’s fine.”

“No, Rogers, if it’s wrong don’t say it.” Natasha warned. She was more than a little bit competitive.

“Well, does anyone else have a better answer?” Steve asked the four of you, who shook your heads in response. “Then I’m saying it.” Your group huddle broke as Steve raised his sign to answer. “Benjamin Franklin?” he answered hesitantly.

“That’s correct! Nick’s Furries wins the game!” Clint announced excitedly. The crowd cheered as the other teams clapped disappointedly. Your group cheered along with the crowd, high fiving and hugging each other over the table.

You went back down to the bar at the end of the game to take one more shot, convincing yourself that you were walking straight, but the world was spinning just a little bit to throw you off your rhythm. You pounded your fist down on the bar top, getting the attention of the cute bartender. “Listen here pal,” you accused, your face contorting into a mix of anger and confusion at his amused face. “You may be really cute b-but,” you paused, hiccuping. “I don- I don’t appreciate you putting water in my whiskey.” Your words slurred together and crescendoed towards the end of your sentence.

“Now, now, doll,” he smiled as he tried to calm you down as your raised voice drew the attention of your friends. “I’m just trying to save you from a terrible hangover in the mornin’.” Natasha was by your side, wondering what had you riled up. “Nat, your friend here wants to know why I won’t give her any more whiskey,” he laughed.

Natasha let out a chuckle and put an arm around your shoulder. “Thanks Bucky, she can’t handle her booze very well.” You scowled at Natasha for taking his side.

“You’re telling me,” he replied. He looked back at you, and set down a glass of water in front of you. “Drink this, doll,” he offered. “It’s water. It’ll help a little bit with the major headache you’ll have in the morning.” But of course, your drunken pride got the better of you, and you refused.

“So you’re this Bucky that everyone keeps talking about,” you exclaimed. “You have a really nice laugh, but you’re not nice.” Natasha let out a laugh, waiting a beat before putting a hand over your mouth. You swat it off and continued. “Bucky Bucky Bucky, it rhymes with ducky. You’re soft, like a ducky, I bet.” Before Natasha could stop you, you reached out to poke his cheek. Bucky chuckled and gently grabbed your wrist.

“Nat, I think it’s someone’s bedtime,” he teased as Natasha nodded.

“Alright (y/n), let’s get you home, so you can regret this in the morning.” Natasha said, pulling you up to your feet and heading towards the taxi with your friends already in it.

The next morning, you woke up to a killer pounding in your head. You turned over in your bed to see a glass of water and a tylenol set out with a note that said “Good morning sunshine :) happy hangover! Xoxo - N” Slowly, you sat up and drank the water and the tylenol, already working to dull a bit of the pain in your head. You looked around for your phone, to thank Natasha for taking you home, but it was nowhere to be found. You panicked, before the memories of last night flooded your head, and you realized you had left it at the bar last night. Groaning, you made your way back to White Wolf, still in pajamas and unkempt hair and slid on a pair of sunglasses.

You entered the bar, leaving your sunglasses on, as your eyes were still sensitive to the light that was bounced around from the white walls. Thankfully the place was still empty as it was only 11 in the morning, and quiet. You walked over to the bar where you saw Bucky, and your face suddenly felt very hot, as you remembered everything you said to him. Ducky?? Really? I should just turn around and--

“Hey, you again,” Bucky called out, causing you to wince at the loudness of his voice. “I told you it was gonna be a killer hangover.” He smirked. “You here for your phone?”

“Yeah, I think I left it here when Natasha came over last night,” you confessed. “Listen, I’m sorry for the face-poking,” you added.

“It’s no problem at all, doll.” He smiled sweetly, handing you your phone. “It was kinda cute, really.”

“Bucky, right?” you returned his smile, letting your hand linger on his a little bit too long while grabbing your phone.

“Yeah, don’t you remember?” he questioned. “It rhymes with ‘ducky’,” Bucky smiled playfully back at you. Instinctively, your hand went to cover your face in embarrassment. “Well listen, since you confessed that you think I’m cute, it’s only fair that I tell you that I think you are too. Even hungover as hell.”

You laughed as you felt the blood rise to your cheeks. “Really? Even after how embarrassing I was?”

“Especially after that. It was endearing, really,” he said. “So maybe tomorrow, if you’re feeling better, can I um,” his confidence seemed to falter just a little bit. His nervousness brought a small smile to you. “Take you out? I know this great diner just down the block.” he continued.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I’d like that a lot, Bucky.”

“It’s a date then.”