#kevin wouldn't let them forget it

[broken-heart-raven-queen]

Aaron and Nicky very drunk/high at Eden's doing karaoke over the tables.

They found out about it the next morning bc there are a lot of YouTube videos with the title "This is what the Fox(es) say"

[awildtei]

I know this is not new information, but I've seen a fresh wave of people confused about what the fuck Andrew planned to do as a 5'0 man with a knife against the literal mafia, so.

I think the fact that neither Neil nor Kevin lost their faith in Andrew’s ability to protect them after he was attacked by Drake (unable to stand his ground against a single man with a bottle, let alone the Yakuza/Nathan with their guns) is the best proof we have that the deal was never about physical protection. This is confirmed by the way Neil never expects Andrew to save him from his father, in fact cuts him loose before Baltimore as soon as danger is truly near.

Andrew is a pretty self-aware character, and he wouldn't make promises he knows he can't possibly see through, so I think he knows what Kevin and Neil also know: what they need from him, and thus what he promises, is not physical protection.

To Kevin, he promises safety from the Moriyamas, and the way we see him enact that safety (at Kathy's show, at the banquet) shows exactly what it's about: when Riko starts getting into your head, when he makes you doubt yourself, makes you think maybe you should go back to Evermore, I won't let you. I will get you away from him, I will treat him like he's just some dude to remind you that you can face him without kneeling. I will be your spine until you find your own, I will stand my ground for you until you can do it yourself.

That's why the scene when Kevin gets to the dorm with his tattoo and Andrew's eyes show so much feeling is huge not just for Kevin but for Andrew: because that was the whole point of their deal, Kevin has found his spine, Andrew bought him the space and time to do it.

To Neil, he promises safety from the people hunting him down, and that means: I will give you something to build a life around (keys, drives to nightly exy practices, someone to lean on, someone who will listen without flinching). When you feel like running, I will be someone you can call to come pick you up. When you forget, I will remind you who you are: Neil Abram Josten.

Andrew stands between Kevin and Riko and between Neil and his father not as an impenetrable wall but as an obstacle in their vision: not shield but focal point.

(Makes me think of that scene in The Haunting of Hill House, Hugh holding Steven's neck to keep him from looking at the ghosts, saying, Look at me, just look at me, keep your eyes on me. That's what Andrew’s constantly doing --even literally, when Kevin is spiralling after Wymack tells the team about the district change and Andrew makes him look away from his broken hand and up at him).

[wilhelminyard]

david wymack is such a fierce protector. he loves so deeply and so unconditionally it makes me wanna cry.

like he had just met neil when he said "you need one of us to talk to your parents? are they the ones who hurt you? [...] if your parents are a problem for you, we'll move you to south carolina early."

and he offered him his couch. and then he told him "foxes are foxes for a reason and they know we wouldn't sign you if you didn't qualify. that doesn't mean they know the specifics. it's not my place to ask and I'm sure as hell not going to tell them. did you think I made the team the way it is because I thought it would be a good publicity stunt? it's about second chances, neil. second, third, fourth, whatever, as long as you get at least one more than what anyone else wanted to give you."

he barely knew jean when he told him "your so called master and that bitch of a nephew of his. kevin told us the truth when he transferred so we'd know what we were getting into. I know you think you have to go back to evermore and I know what's waiting for you there. I will burn this house down before I let him touch you again."

and let's not forget about "wymack didn’t care if he had nine foxes or twenty-five. he’d stand behind them until the bitter, bloody end." and "it was the look of a man made ancient by his players' tragedies; it was the look of a man who'd have their backs no matter what it cost him"

and how he usually drives the bus himself because "it was apparently better to be uncomfortable but safe than to trust a stranger with his fractured team."

david wymack dedicated his life to showing kids who were dealt a shit hand in life that they can still play their cards right. I heard somewhere once that sometimes miracles are just good people with kind hearts and I thought it was a little corny but oh does it apply to someone like david wymack. he gave each of the foxes their own miracles. I know he is a fictional character but he just has the biggest heart and honestly he makes me want to have faith in humanity.

[wordvomit555]

Jean, Kevin and Neil are all obsessed with Exy, but all three couldn't be any more different.

Kevin looks at Exy as his birth given right. His mother created the sport. He probably held a stick, before he lernt how to walk. Little Kevin and Riko probably watched Exy games instead of shows for kids.

Kevin lived and breathed Exy since he could remember. It is his whole life, there is no way he could imagine living without it. It's not his hobby, it's not his passion, Exy is who he is. Without it he is nothing, he is worthless. He is outraged every time someone does something wrong on the court or doesn't care as much as he does, because it is personal for him. He takes disrespect on Exy as a direct disrespect on him.

He never chose this life, it chose him and he would crumble without it.

Jean plays to survive. He plays, because that is what is expected of him. Playing is his only worth, his only purpose, his only value. Without it he would be treated even worse than he already was and he knows it.

So he plays. He plays so he can have a moment to breathe, a moment for himself. If he can focus on the game, or the practice he can forget about the abuse. He can burry himself in at least one thing he is good at.

Exy doesn't, of course, come without consequences. He makes mistakes and he is punished and the cycle of violence continues. Exy is his curse, if he stoped there would be a chance that he would get a thing he so desperately wishes for.

Death.

But he plays. He plays, because he made a promise to Kevin. he plays, because he is too scared to find out what would happen if he didn't. He plays, because disobedience was beaten (and so much worse) out of him.

He never chose to play, it was forced onto him and even though he wouldn't accept it, a life without Exy would be his salvation.

Neil plays to live. He spent his whole life on crumbs, just surviving, looking over his shoulder and doing everything to see another day. He was in a rush, never stoping at one place for too long, never having someone or something that he chose for himself.

Until Exy, until the Foxes. He chose to play, despite knowing how dangerous it was for him. He played despite every survival instincts telling him to run.

Exy is like breathing to Neil. He loves it with every fiber of his being. He doesn't care if he gets hurt or killed, he just wants to play.

One more game, one more month, one more year, just one more.

Finding Exy again was the best decision he had ever made. It brought him his family, it brought him purpose, it brought him life.

He chose it himself and he would rather die, than let it be ripped away from him.

They are all Exy junkies, but none of them get the other. They think they do, but their obsessions are so fundamentally different, they never could.

[strawwritesfic]

Kelvin!Spock x Female!Human!Reader: Mr. Right

Summary: When one door closes, another opens—perhaps the door you were meant to enter all along.

Warnings/Tags: Starship Enterprise; post-Star Trek Beyond; friends to lovers; breakup; almost kiss; counselor!reader; Star Trek: The Original Series references; Star Trek: The Next Generation references

Relationships: Spock/Reader; Spock & Nyota Uhura; past!Spock/Nyota Uhura; past!Kevin Riley/Reader

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Requester: @lovemesomeescapism

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Notes: For once, this is not a repost for this challenge…technically. I did write a response to the prompt "Mr. Right" ages ago, but when I was reposting, I decided that the Now You See Me one shot I wrote really wasn't worth keeping. Someone on Tumblr asked me for a Spock one shot, so I slipped him in as a replacement.

It's been a really long time since I finished something new. I realize that I am rusty. This is actually several drafts into attempts to write this one shot. For the first time ever, I actually cannibalized previous drafts while trying to get the meandering dialogue and point back on track. It still doesn't feel quite "right" to me, but it's probably going to take some time before I get back in the swing of things, and I'm ready to let this one go.

Mr. Right

Throughout Terra's history, human beings had sought the comfort of white noise. Quiet droning sounds proved beneficial for many aspects of mental health in the species. As a counselor on board the U.S.S. Enterprise, you'd recommended listening to white noise to dozens of fellow crewmates and patients alike. The best way to do this in the deep space you'd all been exploring for nearly five years was to turn everything in one's quarters down until the low hum of the ship's warp drive became audible. Many of those crewmates and patients reported back to you with decreased stress levels, improved mood, and a distinct uptick in ability to concentrate. Almost all of them said they got better sleep.

Now you learned that every single one of them had lied to you.

You'd spent the better part of the evening-adjacent hours lying face-down on your sofa, trying and failing to take a nap. The scratchy, standard-issue pillow beneath your face was soaked with tears. Your chest ached. Worst of all, any attempt on your part to get your mind off what upset you just ended with you crying harder. All the while, that awful rumble went on and on and on and on relentlessly, allowing you no respite long enough to drift off and forget your current predicament.

A chime cut through your misery. You paused without so much as lifting your head. As of three hours prior, you were officially off duty for the day. Nothing required you to answer the door unless an order came down from a superior officer, and they would call first. Probably it was only Uhura coming by to check on you. Having been through her own breakup during this voyage, surely she would understand when you didn't let her inside.

The chime sounded again, and with it came a surge of possibilities flooding your mind. What if your visitor was dealing with a crisis? Cases of PTSD had been on the rise since the events on Altamid. You could hardly ignore that in favor of your own small, personal crisis. Off duty or not, your role as a ship's counselor would not allow you to wallow in self-pity when someone might need your help.

As your boots hit the floor, you pressed one sleeve of your rumpled blue uniform to the corner of each eye. The gesture wouldn't do much to disguise what you'd been doing over the course of your time off, but you felt a little steadier afterward. Breathing deeply in and out helped too—until you hiccuped. But you could prepare yourself no more. Squaring your shoulders, you stood, walked over to the door leading to the corridor, and opened it.

Just outside stood the familiar, lanky figure of the ship's science officer. The second you spotted him, you wiped your sleeve across your face with greater urgency.

"You're not one of my patients," you said, "or Uhura."

"A very astute observation, Lieutenant [L Name]," Spock replied.

A long moment elapsed during which the two of you stared at one another. Several fellow crewmates in various uniform colors threw curious looks at his back as they passed by on their ways to wherever they were headed. Your friend, meanwhile, allowed a single dark eyebrow to drift toward his hairline. He clearly had no intention of moving on.

"What are you doing here?" you sighed at last.

The wayward eyebrow rejoined its brother. "Lieutenant Commander Uhura informed me that you left your office this afternoon in distress. I note that her assessment was an accurate one. If anything, you appear to be in more distress now than she described to me then."

You couldn't lie to Spock, not when you looked the way you looked after a crying jag like the one you'd just had. So you didn't bother to try. "Fine. I'm in distress. But really, Spock, it's not the kind of distress you can help with. I'm sure Captain Kirk will need you on a landing party any minute now, so if you'll excuse me—"

"Lieutenant Commander Uhura also informed me of the cause of your distress."

"Of course she did." Sometimes you wished your two friends were a little lighter on the "amicable" part of "amicable exes." "Let me guess: You came by to tell me that you told me so."

"As a Vulcan, I have no reason to rub my correct prediction in your face, if you will forgive the Terra colloquial."

You let out a wet laugh despite yourself. "You're pardoned."

"What I have done is stopped by the mess hall. If I am not much mistaken, ice cream is a traditional consolation food in these types of situations."

He produced from behind his back a number of different colored tapes. So startled were you that you found yourself unable to say anything. Never in a million years would you have imagined Spock of all people standing in front of you and offering you junk food of all things. Your silence went on for so long that he had to prompt you to speak:

"Was I incorrect in my understanding of how to handle Terran breakups?"

"No," you said, then, "I just didn't want you to find out about the breakup until I could pull myself together."

"I surmised as much, given that Lieutenant Commander Uhura found out about your circumstances before I did, although you and I are closer friends. It would have been more logical for you to contact me for assistance than her."

Vulcans as a whole were difficult to read. Even factoring in your education and training, as well as your friendship with Spock that had gone on for several years now, you could only guess his feelings the majority of the time. Not so then. Something about his tone made him sound hurt. Maybe you could chalk that up to projecting your own feelings onto him, but you couldn't risk that assumption.

"It's just that you warned me against dating Kevin," you explained. "As ship's counselor, I should have seen the end coming a kiloparsec away."

"Perhaps. But one might also say that your extensive proximity to the crew's emotions might cause some loss in objectivity on your part."

"So you're not here to make me feel worse?"

"I came for consolation purposes. That is all."

"Well, all right, then."

You stepped away from the doorway. Spock followed you in. He paused only long enough to press the button to close the door before he came to join you in your sitting room. A crate sat on the floor along his path, and he looked at you questioningly as he walked by it.

"Those are Kevin's things," you said.

"Expedient," he observed.

Normally, you might have tried to go for a little more decorum around him, but that day you didn't have the energy to do more than flop back onto your couch. At least you were upright. Spock, on the other hand, claimed a dignified perch at the end of your chair. The two of you certainly made an odd pair.

"He had so many hair products!" you burst out when the awkward silence turned unbearable. "I should have known we wouldn't work out. Who brings that much hair spray into deep space?"

"Humanity can hardly be expected to iron out all its flaws when you all cling so hard to your baser emotions."

"Do you mean Kevin's desire to look nice, or my need to be in a relationship?"

Spock blinked, then smoothly said, "In this case, I refer to your former beau's preoccupation with personal grooming."

"Right. Either way, I'm about ready to get rid of all my own baser emotions. Not feeling them would be a blessing." You got back to your feet and thrust one hand in Spock's direction. "Ice cream tape, please."

He offered one to you.

"Spock," you said warningly.

"I do not believe that heartbreak is an excuse to overeat. I only brought so many because I was unsure which flavor you would select."

The glare you leveled at him seemed to make him think better of lecturing you on the dangers of gluttony—as well it should have. This was the same glare that you gave Dr. McCoy when you were tired of listening to him. Unlike with Dr. McCoy, you smiled once Spock dropped the rest of the tapes into your outstretched hand.

"Thank you." You headed for your in-quarters food producer, then turned your head to ask over your shoulder, "What flavor do you want?"

"I do not require ice cream."

"Come on, Spock. If you're going to spend the evening commiserating with me, you have to have some ice cream, too. That's a critical part of the Terran breakup process."

One corner of his mouth twitched. "I'll have pistachio, then."

You fed the yellow-green tape into the slot. A quiet beeping noise covered the hum of the warp drive as the computer worked. While you waited, you flipped through the remainder of the flavors until you found the one you wanted.

"I don't think it would be a good idea for you to give up emotions," Spock said.

"Huh?" Frowning at him, you replaced his tape with yours. "Aren't you the guy that's been talking about doing the Kolinahr when we get back to Earth?"

"That's different. I am a Vulcan."

"Half Vulcan."

"Vulcan enough."

A shriller beep put an end to this potentially sticky subject. The ice creams were ready. You dumped the rest of the tapes in a basket next to the food producer, picked up the bowls, and brought them back to the living room. Spock took his with a grateful nod, though he waited until you sat down again before taking a bite.

"Maybe I'd be a better counselor if I didn't have emotions," you mused. "If I wasn't blinded by my own feelings, I could help the crew more with theirs. I shouldn't have the same problems as they do after all the studying I've done."

"While that may indeed make sense, it is hardly realistic. Besides, if you did not have your human emotions, you would no longer be the [Name] that I know, and I believe that I would miss her."

You couldn't help but smile around the spoon in your mouth. Popping that out, you said, "I bet you say that to all the Terrans you like."

"Hardly. In fact, that captain may benefit from an hour or two without his usual emotions."

"I appreciate you saying that, Spock."

"I am only speaking the truth. I have no intention of bolstering your ego artificially, even if doing so is a part of the Terran breakup process."

"I know." You slowly lowered your spoon back to the bowl, staring off into space. Something was dawning on you—something that might have dawned on you sooner had you not been so enthralled with your own feelings. "You know what else I appreciate? You coming here to help me today. Not every first officer would go out of their way for a ship's counselor like that."

Spock fixed you with an unblinking gaze as he said, "You mean a great deal more to me than most ship's counselors mean to their first officers."

"I don't care what Captain Kirk says. You sure know how to make a woman blush."

"I have had some practice with the activity."

"Remind me to thank Uhura later."

"Thank her for what?" Spock asked.

Maybe you were reading the signs wrong. Maybe you were just desperate. If he had to ask, you had to be wrong. But you took a deep breath anyway, and said, "Helping me realize that maybe the guy I've been looking for this whole time has been my best friend all along."

How could it have taken you this long to work it out? No one else spent as much time with you as Spock did, not outside of your office hours. It didn't matter if you were in the mess hall asking for a round of Fizzbin after dinner or you wanted a quiet night in your quarters. He always seemed to be there. You felt comfortable around him. Maybe you didn't always understand Spock; maybe Spock didn't always understand. But you didn't enjoy anyone's company the way you did his. And you had to wonder when your eyes met just then if he felt the same way, and if this coming-to-see-you-with-ice-cream thing was his way of showing you that.

"Well," he moistened his lips before going on, "I certainly feel that our relationship is founded more steadily upon mutual interests and desires than it is upon a passion for hair products."

You leaned forward. "You know, that sort of relationship sounds really appealing right about now."

"It does?" Spock shifted closer to you.

"I think it's about time that I dated someone whose first thought in the morning isn't beating me to the sonic shower, don't you?"

By that time, you both had come so close that it wouldn't have taken much more movement on either of your parts to touch lips. Your heart gave a painful leap inside your chest. Was this too much too fast? Even if you had just realized you'd had a thing for Spock for a while now, you had only just broken up with your last boyfriend that morning. Treating Spock as a rebound was the last thing you wanted to do. He didn't seem to mind, though. His mouth drew closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath on your face.

The communicator in your room chirped. You jumped. Spock paused before sitting back up in his chair. Then you rose wordlessly, stepped over to the panel, cleared your throat, and pushed the button.

"[L Name]," you said.

"[Name]?" Uhura did not remark on how breathless you sounded, thankfully. "I need to talk to Spock."

"It's for you," you said unnecessarily. Spock had already reset his face into its typical blank mask and made his way to the communicator himself.

"Spock here. What is it, Lieutenant Commander?"

"Captain Kirk needs you on the bridge. We have a situation up here."

"What kind of a situation?"

"There's a former United States President floating outside the ship. He says he needs our help."

"I will be there right away."

A second chirp signaled that communications between your room and the bridge had ceased. Spock turned back to you.

"My presence is needed on the bridge," he said.

"So I heard."

"I apologize. I believe we were in the middle of something."

"It's all right."

He didn't move.

"Spock, go. Don't you want to know why a deceased historical figure has asked for the Enterprise's help?"

"I'd prefer to stay here," Spock said. "But you are correct. I must leave. Will you still be here later tonight?"

"Yeah." You surprised yourself with the eagerness of your answer. "Yeah, I will. I promise I won't run off with any other lieutenants while you're away. I'll save the rest of the ice cream. We can share it when you get back."

There it was: The slight curl to Spock's mouth that told you that you weren't making up the mutual attraction between you both after all. "To use another Terran phrase, it's a date."

He hesitated another moment longer before he quickly exited your quarter. You grinned as the door slid shut behind him and the white noise returned full force. As you sunk into your couch and pillow this time, you found you didn't mind the hum as much. In fact, the sound did exactly what it was supposed to do: Relax you. Kevin and his excuses from that morning felt farther away than your own home planet. Maybe you owed him a thank you, too, because if you were still with him, you wouldn't have slept as well as you did that night knowing that Spock would be back soon.

[starrycassi]

Today in Jean and Neil's bestfrienderism. With a side of Andrew being Andrew. And domestic Andreil.

.

Jean is having a panic attack.

Well, not quite. It's not a full blown attack, yet. But it is close. Very, very close. He is thirty. He is alive. He is Jean Moreau and he has endured so, so much. He is, somewhat, free. As free as the cattle are in a pasture. As free as the shrimp are to the breeding pond.

He has a wonderful husband. He is reconnecting with Kevin. He visits Cat and Laila whenever their schedules allow them the time to do so. He has a dog — well, he technically has three. Charbon is his, and his alone. She is a wonderful Black Labrador that Dobson appointed him. The other two, Caramelo and Dulce, (both named by Catalina, of course) are his and his husband's.

Charbon is moving as soon as he's clawing at his neck. She knows what to do. She knows what to do.

"-breathe. In, and out. Com'on, Jean. It ain't hard. In, and out. You're, like, an athlete. In, and out. You don't even smoke. In, and out. Drew? Water, yes. In, and out."

That's, unfortunately, not the voice of a cybernetically enhanced service dog. It's a different type of animal. Neil Josten.

He manages to make his brain claw around, trying to find where his hand is (in his neck, of course) and puts it up, flipping the bipedal cockroach off.

.

Jean doesn't have a panic attack. Thanks, Charbon.

He's still on the edge. He plays with the dog's ears, floppy and bendy. She seems content to let him do so. They're all on the floor. The two cats are in Neil's lap. Andrew is in the kitchen.

"Breathing okay? Didn't break a rib, did you?"

Jean flips Neil off again.

"I take that as a no. But we did do a RCP training course, you know? Aaron was being a little bitch about me being 'death-prone' or whatever. So you wouldn't even have died. Not on our watch"

"Pretty sure RCP is not the standard solution to panic attacks, junkie" Andrew says, sounding bored, while he walks into the room, tray in his hands. "Panic attacks, also, don't really kill people that often. He would've fainted, at worst"

"Should be standard. Gets the heart right again, does it not?"

Andrew drops the tray to the floor. Only, he doesn't drop it. The jug full of ice and water is intact, as is the glass right next to them. Jean serves himself a glass, drowning it as quickly as possible. It stings. It helps, with the whole "I hate my throat" thing. Harm reduction, Dobson called it.

"You're such a fucking idiot" Andrew says, before reaching down to tug Neil's hair. Neil looks up, their eyes lock, and Jean feels so disgusted that he almost forgets why he's on the floor, to start with. Can they be any less PDA-inclined?

Then again, Jeremy and him are worse. So.

There's silence. And, then, "Jean. We could find a way"

Jean is confused. Andrew, clearly, is not. Jeremy and him love each other, but even theh can admit that there's no other couple with such a level of telepathy as the Josten-Minyard one. It's quite off-putting.

" 'We' sounds like a lot of people" Andrew complains, his tone one of slight annoyance. Regardless, he drops down next to Neil. One of the cats migrates to his lap. He absentmindedly scratches its head, just like he did Neil.

"I'm not following"

They both look at him like he's an imbecile. In return, he glares.

"To get you out of the contract" Neil clarifies. Except, that doesn't clarify anything. Jean Moreau, even as a free man, belongs to the Moriyamas. Not the Nest, or Riko, anymore. It's as much freedom as anyone like him can wish for. Jean Moreau has, is and will endure.

Yes, he hyperventilates whenever the topic of children comes up. Because Jeremy wants kids. A big, happy, loving family. Jean, unfortunately, wants the same.

He doesn't want kids as much as he fears his debt. Their future. His work. Their worth.

Andrew made the offhand comment of Aaron's twins coming to visit next week. About how it seems that the whole group of "Neil's friends" are eager to overpopulate the world with mini nuisances and how he pitied the teachers that had to ever work with such offspring. How it feels like they're the only ones sane enough to avoid such a burden. He didn't mean anything by it. That didn't stop Jean from spiraling. Intent and reaction are, often, not the same thing.

"I stress that you should just get the Care Bear to replace you. He likes Exy. He likes you. Surely we can guilt him into agreeing"

"Non," he answers immediately. They've had this conversation. Jeremy has offered. Jean has refused. It is enough, that one of them is tainted by the Moriyamas. Jeremy's life is not and has never been perfect, but Jean refuses to add a whole ass mafia deal to that.

Andrew shrugs, unapologetically. Jean is not offended. Andrew is a no-nonsense kind of man. A "straight to the point" kind of man. He, probably, thinks that his suggestions are helping, somehow.

"There has to be another way." Neil muses, looking at the ceiling. "We already negotiated with Ichirou, once. Maybe time's made him softer? He's got kids, now. Fatherhood softens people up. Or so I hear."

"Your father tried to kill you. At least thirty times. Almost succeeded half of those, too" Jean reminds him, trying to stay out of the whole family conversation. Neil has never been one for careful sentences. He doesn't mean anything by it. Then, again, intent and reaction.

"It's his personality. He brings out the worst in people" Andrew adds, interlocking his pinky with Neil's pinky, before leaning in and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Gross.

"Rude. Also, Ichirou is way more level headed than Nathan. We could try, at least."

"Absolutely no, you neuron-lacking flea."

"Over my dead body, Josten."

"Again, rude. You two never let me have any fun. Kevin is influencing you too much, I swear."

Jean doesn't feel like thinking about Kevin, so he takes out one of the bobby pins in his hair and throws it at Neil's face. Andrew snorts. Charbon looks at the interaction with curiosity. So does Neil.

There is silence, again. For a while. And, then, "Neil will play Exy until he can't, anyways" Andrew points out.

Jean is confused. Neil, clearly, is not. He looks at Andrew with such an open expression of vulnerability and worry, that Jean has to look away.

"Drew, you know that-"

"I said 'life', didn't I? Same team. Same house."

"Five years ago."

"Haven't changed my mind."

"Still. I know you hate it."

"As much as I hate you. I've put up with you this long. I will handle it."

"Are you two always this fucking cryptic? Jesus Christ"

They share a look. Andrew nods. Neil hesitates. Andrew pokes him in the ribs.

"Andrew is willing to make a deal. We- we talked about it, some years ago, when Kevin had that skating accident. It's, uh, a backup plan. Asking Ichirou to pass the contract down."

"For a price." Andrew adds. As if that isn't the most unhinged, crazy and stupid thing Jean has ever heard them say. And God knows that that's a very high list.

"You're joking with me."

"Do I look like a fucking clown, Moreau?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I will not pass down my burden to you. Plus, it is, surprisingly, a decent plan. There is no other goalie out there who is making more money than you. Ichirou would be stupid if he didn't agree. Which means that you have to keep that option open. Neil is constantly looking for new ways of getting himself killed. I will not tolerate having you, either of you, on the chopping block for me. Not if I can help it"

He is angry. Do they think so selfish? So entitled? So uncaring? He feels nauseous. Charbon puts her paws on his chest, licking his face. He shouldn't feel offended, but he does. They don't mean anything by it. Intent, reaction.

"I'm already involved with our dear asian Shobhuza. Pretty sure he doesn't like me, already."

"Non. Absolutely no. Don't even- no. No. Are you listening to me? Never."

They glare at each other. Years ago, Jean would fold, Andrew's gaze reminding him too much of handcuffs and needles. He doesn't.

"Dramatic" Neil mutters in singsong. They glare at him, now. He has the audacity to giggle.

"We'll figure something out." he says, so sure of himself. How can someone so short be so full of confidence, Jean will never know.

"Even if we don't," Andrew adds, with something close to warmth in his tone, "surely the two of you can survive without passing on those dreadful genes of yours for a few more years"

"We were thinking of fostering" he murmurs, softly. So softly that he's unsure if they heard him or not. Andrew freezes, midway through petting his cat. Neil's eyes widen. Charbon gives a friendly bark.

Andrew and Neil look at each other. Do they ever do anything else?

"We'll find a way," Andrew says. Promises. Begs. Asks. Neil nods, gaze heavy with duty. They hold hands. Neil squeezes. Andrew squeezes back.

Jean feels like he might have another panic attack. How can they be so reckless? For him, out of all people?

Then, again, he would do the same. Sacrifices and promises.

Is there any other way to live?

[k-tarotz]

Pick a Pile | Where will your F/s take you on a winter date?

Since it's already December we thought of making our first winter/Christmas pac! You can of course participate in this even if you dont celebrate Christmas, if you want to if course. Choose one or multiple piles that you are drawn to and read about it! Please like, reblog and comment as its highly appreciated, thank you! <3 disclaimer; this is a general reading! these messages may not fit everyone. please take what resonates and leave the rest. Dividers & pictures aren't from us, credits to the right owners!

Kpop readings | updated personal readings | masterlist

Pile 1:

This one is giving the most "home" vibes and

therefore; your date would invite you to their house. They would decorate their house all festively with the most beautiful Christmas decorations they can find, even put up the Christmas tree. Then they would dim the lights, only let the Christmas leds of the Christmas tree on along with other decorations that have the ability to give light. They would make their bed super comfy with blankets, pillows, cute plushies and prepare hot chocolate and cookies. They would snuggle with you on said bed while laying/sitting comfortably with you there. Their arm nicely around you and what else would you be doing than..... watching Christmas movies together?! Watching all of your favorite Christmas movies and maybe even the classic ones like Kevin home alone / alone in New York, elf, the grinch and so on! It would be an incredible cozy and romantic date which would make your connection to each other stronger.

Pile 2:

Your future spouse would take you on a date to a café! But not just some kinda boring or classic one - no, it would be one that has many Christmas decorations, even small Christmas trees on every table. There would play background music, not too loud not too quite, of course it would be mostly Christmas songs. The desserts, cookies,pastries and even the hot chocolate would have Christmas motives on it. It would all look super cute and taste amazing. They would love to spoil you, asking you to ignore the prices of it as it is the season of giving. They would possibly spend hours with you there getting lost in the conversation with you and of course walking you home after it, while snow crunches under your feet. Holding your hand to feel your warmth and also just in case so they can catch you in case you slip slightly. You would have an amazing date that you wouldn't forget. Neither of you would!

Pile 3:

As for this one I feel like your future spouse would invite you over to their house to bake cookies together, if possible multiple different ones. They would enjoy baking together with you, perhaps take a tiny bit of the flour and put it on your cheek - then let out the most sweetest laugh ever. It might turn into a small but nome serious playful fight, which would end up in them pulling you suddenly closer and kissing you. While still baking with you, most likely While the cookies are in the oven, they would suddenly turn on the song "all I want fir Christmas is you" and start dancing to it, actually trying to dance together with you to it. The whole atmosphere would be so warm and lovely, both of you focused on only each other. Of course they would eat the cookies together with you after they are done, feeding you sometimes. They would praise you on it, enjoying their time with you more than anything else in the world.

That's it! Our first Christmas/winter pac ever! Feel free to leave feedback if you want to! Stay safe and take care of yourselves lovelies <3

- Candy

[minyard-05]

drunken/drugged confessions, kevaaron 👀

this got out of hand oopsies

(written largely whilst watching the battle of helms deep in lord of the rings, if that means anything)

prompt game

-----

"Have you tried talking to anybody who isn't us about this?" Renee asked gently.

Kevin sighed.

"Matt and Aaron are friends, Neil and Aaron just pretend they're not friends, Nicky is Nicky and also in Germany, and Andrew would murder me on the spot."

"What about Dan?"

Kevin looked over to the blonde that was perched on the kitchen counter.

"Allison already tells Dan everything I tell you two."

Allison nodded without looking up from her phone. Renee sighed, endearingly, and reached over to squeeze Allison's hand.

"Got any advice?"

Allison looked up.

"Honestly, Kev? If you're seriously trying to get over this Aaron thing, which I am generously only teasing you about internally right now, then just let me take you to a gay bar and you'll forget his name in five minutes."

Kevin was skeptical. It definitely wasn't the first time Allison had pitched this idea, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Honestly, Alli?" Kevin replied, mimicking her tone as Allison raised an eyebrow.

"I will be dead before I let you take me to a gay bar."

-----

They were in a gay bar and Kevin Day was very much still alive.

"C'mon, you're going to have fun. Let go a little!" Allison had to shout to be heard over the music, and Kevin settled for flipping her off so she couldn't pretend to mishear.

"Look, we'll stay for twenty minutes, and if you still hate it, movie night, okay?"

Allison squeezed his shoulder with her hand as she said it– Kevin knew that meant she was honest. If he pushed any further, if he seriously wanted to leave, she'd let him, no questions asked. Allison knew how to push, but she also knew when to let it slide. Kevin rolled his eyes, but said,

"Fine."

Allison clapped, and disappeared into the crowd not long after. Kevin aimed for the wall and managed to maneuver his way through the crowd before he found a spot to watch the dance floor.

It wasn't that bad, he thought after a while. More people in a confined space than he was usually comfortable with, but most of them pretty much stayed out of his way, and the various costumes and complicated outfits clubgoers had put together for their night out was entertainment enough. He felt moderately underdressed in a green shirt and jeans, but he was hardly the center of attention.

Somebody was, though. Even from this distance, it didn't look like he was trying to be, but part of the crowd just swarmed around him, twisting and moving in and amongst each other like the tide. A flash of blond hair in the middle of the crush caught Kevin's eye as he watched.

Aaron looked nothing like he did at Eden's back in college, though Kevin supposed he hadn't really been paying attention back then. Here, now, a year since he'd graduated, it was like he was a completely different person. Aaron's hair was longer, and he wore black jeans with silver chains hanging at his hips, a loose black shirt with a tight fishnet under layer, and a smile on his face that looked like nothing Kevin had ever seen before.

He watched Aaron move for so long he didn't notice when the blond finally appeared at his side, warm, close, unfairly gorgeous.

"No fucking way you're actually here, Your Highness," came the familiar voice, Aaron's voice, slurred from alcohol and barely audible over the pulsing rhythm booming through invisible speakers. Kevin stared at him.

"You're drunk," Kevin said, but that was obvious. Aaron grinned and downed the last of whatever was in his glass.

"You're gay," he replied, pointing an accusing finger into Kevin's face.

Kevin blinked, but pushed his hand away.

"Bi, but sure. So are you, apparently."

Aaron just grinned again.

"Nah," he said, nonchalantly.

"I just come for the..." he paused, taking a long second to look Kevin up and down before finally coming back to meet his eyes.

"Music," he finished.

Kevin felt something disturbingly familiar in his gut and did his best to ignore it.

"You here alone?" Aaron asked, swiping Kevin's drink from his hand and taking a sip, pushing it back with a grimace soon after.

"There's no alcohol in it," Kevin explained.

"And Allison is somewhere, I think."

Aaron raised an eyebrow at him.

"Reynolds?"

Kevin nodded.

"Huh. I didn't know you two still talked."

"You wouldn't," Kevin replied, too fast, and Aaron's expression suddenly turned dark.

"Fuck it," Aaron said, louder, and started to pull away.

"I'm getting another drink."

Kevin suddenly had a hand around Aaron's arm before he fully realised it.

"No," he said.

"Let go of me, Day," Aaron said fiercely.

"It's late, and you're already wasted. We should go."

"Who the fuck is 'we'?"

"Aaron," Kevin insisted, but he loosened his grip. Aaron tried to pull back again, but stumbled, shaking his head like he could make the world clearer by force. Kevin had to grab onto him again to stop him collapsing entirely, and he started to move them around the wall and headed for the door. Aaron pushed at him, but his strains grew weaker. Kevin held on as loosely as he could without dropping him, and finally they stumbled out into the night.

The street was quieter than he'd expected, but one glance at his watch said it was already past midnight. He briefly wondered what had happened to Allison, but all other thoughts suddenly vanished when he looked back at Aaron.

"Why the fuck are you even here?" he spat, sudden anger in his words as he finally forced himself away from Kevin, turning to face him.

A million answers suddenly spun around Kevin's head.

Wondering if Alli will let me drink again.

Trying to distract myself.

Trying to exist as something different for once.

Trying to forget about you.

"Did Andrew fucking send you? To come looking for me?"

Now it was Kevin's turn to stare in confusion.

"What?"

Aaron suddenly laughed, but it was bitter, cold.

"That's it. That's fucking it, isn't it? You can't just leave me alone, can you? Can't let me live my own fucking life for once, on my own!"

"That's not–"

"Why do you think I fucking left?"

Silence. Kevin watched Aaron, tentatively waiting for him to continue, but Aaron folded his arms, shivering in the December night.

"You were trying to forget about the Foxes," Kevin said, slowly, because it was all he really knew.

"I was trying to forget about you," was the response, sharp, angry, full of venom.

Kevin's head spun as he processed the words. He knew he hadn't been drinking, but he suddenly wished he was because this wasn't real. This wasn't right. Aaron had never been like that. Aaron had never wanted him. Aaron was straight, or Kevin guessed that wasn't true either, but whatever he was, this wasn't it. This wasn't how this happened.

Aaron stepped back, like he'd only just realised what he'd said, but he was still drunk, so Kevin instinctively reached out to steady him, but Aaron moved further away.

"Shut up," he said, even though Kevin hadn't spoken.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. Fuck off."

Aaron turned to leave, and Kevin followed. He had to.

"Why were you trying to forget me? What did I do?"

Aaron suddenly spun back around.

"You– you don't fucking know? You don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

Aaron opened his mouth like he was about to speak but no words came. He stared up at Kevin, not angry anymore, but hurt.

"Aaron-"

Aaron's hand was suddenly over Kevin's mouth (IGNORE THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE), and he was shaking his head, voice lower now, almost gentle.

"Don't. Don't say it. I can't hear it from you."

They stayed there for a moment, Aaron's cool skin pressed against Kevin's, heartbeat pulsing steady against his lips, before Aaron stepped back.

"Goodbye, Kev."

Kevin watched him walk away.

-------

[besilentintheticklecloset]

My turn

Kevin works all day so I'm like 100% sure most of his lee moods kicks in when he's working and there's nothing worse than havinf a lee mood when you're somewhere where not only it's boring af but you also need to focus and not daydream. Worst nightmare

Dexter's social life is composed by his mom what the FUCK is he going to do. Plus he also works, plus plus needs kicking his ass, it's a full combo

Candy Dealer has more important stuff to do other than thinking about being tickled. But he does daydream sometimes when someone is just talking a bunch of unimportant stuff to him

It's Susie I don't even need to elaborate, Pump is always with Skid she is no fucking way going to Mr Wonder AND MUCH LESS TO THE HATZGANG she just grabs her pencil and wrecks her oc's to compensate

The homie is Shotty. They share the same braincell so he doesn't even need to say anything, and if he does they treat it like they're trading drugs going "psst.. the thing...."

Shotty has no shame at ALL he just wanna laugh and be happy. Please tickle him he's giving you the puppy eyes

Roy prefers to die in his own shame than to say anything to anyone. His pride would NEVER let him but even there he's just trying so harddd to be subtle and failing

Rick is very ler to me. Not like he's not ticklish he definitely is he just don't really has lee moods

John doesn't know how to lie someone tell him. He is just craving so hard for some cheer up tickles to forget about how life is miserable but oh nooo he's too old for that

Radford OBVIOUSLY wouldn't say it like that but lee moods are like one of his last problems ever. He has a bunch of friends who he can start a tickle fight with and most of them also knows how he likes tickles so he doesn't know how it is to suffer

Old fucking man. Even if he does have them he definitely doesn't know nor cares to give a name and also shakes it off to think about other and probably more depressing things. Also needs cheer up tickles but is in absolute denial and tbh also has no one so it doesn't matter/j

[kenlvry]

reader as kennys, tweeks, and butters older sibling!!

an: someone requested this but i accidentally deleted the request i panicked so bad and im sorry!!! butters colour is only on laptop and my laptop is at home rn so for now butters is

gn btw!

kenny mccormick

you and kenny were inseparable even though you were a year older than him you would still talk to him during recess, even sometimes dropping by his class to annoy mr garrison. when things got tough at home esp when mom and dad is fighting you and kenny would always protect kevin and karen, you two are the most sane people in that house fr.

you were always protective of kenny and would travel to the world and back for him, when he introduced his friend group to you, you were..... shock to be honest. esp the one whos a disrespectful racist sexist person who mocks the jew friend. the others was decent, the most normal friend out of the three of them is definitely kyle, you'd trust your little brother anywhere with kyle. but with cartman? you might have to spy a little.

you sometimes hang out with them! just to protect kenny of course, they dont mind tbh. but you were worried on how stan thinks of you because whenever he sees you he pukes, you tell your little brother but he says to not worry and laughs abt it, you wonder whats so funny about it??

sometimes kenny also follows you around with your friend group, they dont mind, they think hes the most cutest thing ever. they would surround him and compliment him, he definitely likes it.he was protective of karen and you were protective with kevin, you two always try your best to support your other siblings. doing extra shifts just to buy them toys they never got as a kid.

whenever kenny wants to do something you were always there to support it, it doesnt matter how stupid and dangerous it was, you were there to help him no matter what.

you dont remember when kenny dies so whenever he does you'd go livid, you'd cry all day and mom wasn't helping either. who was going to help you support the other two now? who's gonna accompany you when you feel like getting food? you were crying 10 buckets but then just like that you were okay, you didnt even know what you were bitching about.

in conclusion he's definitely your bestest friend. even if he kills someone you'd defend him with your life, you'd do anything for your little bro.

tweek tweak

ever since tweek was born you'd swore with your life to protect him, he was the cutest thing ever, everyone calls you the perfect older sibling. you were two years older than him, 6th grade.

you were really famous amongst the school, everyone liked and respected you. anyone knows that if they mess with tweek, they mess with you. you'd act all tough infront of your friends but then your lil bro came along and you were all soft petting his head comforting him, giving him coffee candy to calm his nerves. almost every 6th grader loved tweek bc of his older sibling.

at home if he had a panic attack or would get really anxious you'd calm him down with coffee (that you bought yourself so no weird shit in it) you knew what your parents put in his drinks thats why you always tell him to only drink your coffee and not to drink them, he doesn't get it and would still drink it but only if he is realllllyyyy stressed out, he trusts your opinions

he trusts you alot, if he gets worried about north korea attacking again you would def help him.

every morning when he buttons his buttoned up wrong you wanted to help but he'd freak out, boy hasn't had his morning coffee of course he's freaked out. you'd forget to fix it by then so you just let it be.

you love him so much and wouldn't ask for any different younger brother, and he is very grateful to have a older sibling as nice as you.

leopold "butters" stotch

butters was the sweetest angel and the best younger sibling you could ask for, although you hated your parents you cared for him so much.

whenever your troubling with something he'd always try to help out anyway he can even though he cant help but he'd try anyways. you hated how unfair your parents was towards butters, he'd get grounded for the stupidest shit and you always argue to your dad about how unfair he's being but instead you'd get grounded too.

you always took the blame for him because he's still a kid and needs to enjoy the outside world, not be cooped up in his room. everytime that eric cartman tricks your sweet angel brother to do something stupid, you hold in the urge to murder some 4th grader, you try talking him out of it but he insisted saying cartman was a good person and hes a good friend, oh how naive butters was

he was very grateful to you and whenever he had doubts about something you are the first person he'd go to, it didnt matter how stupid the doubt was you are always trying to help your sweet younger brother <333

[unintentionaloracle]

The Couple That Crashes Out Together [Fic]

Yup, I'm back at it again!

Summary: Kevin's in trouble, with management AND a crashing out Cody...again... But why's Sami also apparently in the doghouse with them, too?

And I apologize to Cody in advance you know I love you, babygirl. And also Candy for catching a stray in this I promise I like that ship, too, I just also love drama.

Sami sat on the equipment trunk outside Aldis’s office, nervously tapping his fingers against his knee as he stared at the floor. He knew he was in trouble. Maybe not “you're fired” trouble, but “suspended indefinitely and/or without pay” definitely still seemed to be on the table. It would be the perfect way to cap off this horrible week.

He heard the door open, making him tense in anticipation of his fate. But he was greeted by a different, yet all too wonderfully familiar voice:

“Hey, Sami. Aldis has to make a call to Pearce right now. But after that, you're up next. What are you doing here, anyway?”

Sami turned his head to see Kevin, but...

He stood before him in a somewhat tight, sleeveless black bodysuit with an oversized duct tape star on it. A pair of black basketball shorts was tastefully layered on top of the suit. His face was painted silver with a crudely drawn black star on it and...yep, he was even wearing black lipstick, too.

“Kev,” Sami said, laughing a little in disbelief, “why are you dressed like Stardust?”

Kevin scratched at his beard. “Did you not see what happened at the start of the show?”

“No, I was in the parking lot talking with Johnny and Jimmy. What happened?”

Kevin plopped down beside Sami. “Well, you see, I went out and made fun of Cody’s Stardust phase...”

Sami nodded. “I can see that. You did a decent job, by the way.”

“THANK YOU! ‘The face paint is too glittery’ my ass! Anyway, I called him out for the fact that everyone forgets and forgives all the scummy stuff he's done but they never let me live down my past...”

“Alright, I'm with you...”

“And then I brought up the times he was a dick to his dad.”

“...Oh...” Sami said, rubbing his face. “Kevin...”

“Yeah, even I have to admit I went too far with that. Dusty didn't deserve to get dragged into this...” Kevin lamented, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Needless to say, Golden Boy got pissed...”

“I can imagine!”

“We tried to brawl, but they split us up. I took out some officials, Cody threw some steel steps... And then I was sent to Aldis’s office. But not Cody! Cody got sent home early because heaven forbid Cody face consequences for anything!” Kevin shouted. He panted heavily before glancing at Sami. He took a deep breath. “And how about you, Sami?”

Sami took a deep breath. “So, it's been a stressful week, right? WarGames, Jey getting attacked, trying to keep an eye on Seth, Drew's after me, I’ve been worrying about you...”

“Yeah?” Kevin said, shifting uncomfortably at the last part.

“So, I went to see Johnny and Jimmy for advice before the show. I wanted to pick their brains about how they make things work whenever they and their partner are...” He tried to think of the right word. “...morally opposed?”

“Why are you asking about tag partners, Sami? You know how that works...”

Sami blinked. “Romantic partner, Kevin. You know, like how Candice is rolling with Nia when Johnny’s a good dude? Or Jimmy was doing Roman's bidding while Naomi was being good?”

“Oh...”

“Anyway, I got some tips, we caught up, and I was about to leave when Cody brushed past me. He was pissed...” Sami took another glimpse at Kevin. “And now I know why. And I probably wouldn't have gone as far as I did if I'd known, but...”

“Sami, what did you do?”

---

“Sami, tell your boyfriend to say hi to mine in the hospital after I beat him...” Cody said, coldly furious.

Sami took a deep breath. Any other time, he might've tried to take the high ground. Maybe even tried to come at this with more compassion for his friend. But with everything going on, Sami finally found the bottom of his seemingly endless patience. Somebody had to win the “victim of a Sami Zayn crash out lottery”, eventually. And Cody just happened to pull the lucky ticket.

“Well, maybe you should be thanking Kevin! Randy can't betray you if he's injured...” Sami bit back.

Cody stopped. He turned around and glared at Sami. “What?”

“Oh, come on, everyone knows he wants your title but you. Or are you just ignoring it so you can pretend you two are living happily ever after? That your love is really enough to sate him?” Sami said as Johnny and Jimmy stared at him.

“Oh, you're one to talk!” Cody said, storming over to Sami and getting in his face. “You're ignoring that your boyfriend is an absolute monster! And considering who you've been running around with, lately? Who do you think he's gonna go after next when he's done with me, huh?” Cody smirked, looking at his limit. “You can't trust him. He betrayed you on his first day here!”

Sami clenched his fists and his jaw. “Yeah, well, at least if he betrays me, he'd be upfront about it. He won't play with his food like Randy is...”

He couldn't remember which of them threw the first punch, he just remembered they started brawling. Both of them grappled and collided with the asphalt. Fists were flying. Hair was pulled. Sami was 80% sure Cody bit him. Sami definitely scratched his face...

---

“Eventually, Johnny and Jimmy broke us up, as well as the officials. Aldis shouted at Cody about how he “told him to leave”, then he told me he'd see me in his office after his meeting, aaaaand now we're here...” Sami said.

“...Damn, Sami...”

“Yeah, I took it too far with the Randy thing. I was just...I was at my limit...” Sami lamented.

“Maybe, but...you’re on my side?” Kevin asked.

“Of course. I love you. And I don't want to abandon you right now, despite everything that's going on for us.” Sami said. “Cody is–well, it's probably more like was, now–my friend, and I may get roped into Bloodline crap, but I'll always try to look out for you. No matter what...”

“...Even when I get into a blood feud with Cody?”

“I mean, I don’t always like what you put your passions towards, but I love that you're passionate. And I know you've looked out for me and backed me up when I did stuff you didn't like. It's the least I can do for you...”

“...Sami, your heart drives me crazy, sometimes.” Kevin said with a chuckle. ‘But I guess you wouldn't be the man I love without it...” He then smirked. “And hey, I think I've got something I can put my passion towards that I know you'll like...”

“What?” Sami asked.

Kevin leaned over and gave Sami a quick kiss on the cheek. Then he tilted his face towards his and kissed him again, longer. He cupped his face before he climbed onto Sami's lap. Sami kissed back before escalating it into a make out. Sami's hands settled on Kevin's hips. For a moment, the world didn't exist. They just had each other, and could just be happy for a brief moment, and it was enough.

They were pulled back to reality by Aldis calling from his office. “Alright, Sami! Come on in!”

Kevin, who was just about to kiss Sami's neck, groaned. Sami took a moment to collect himself and straighten his hair. “Sorry, I gotta...I’ll see you in a bit, Kev?” He said, voice cracking.

Kevin smiled. “I'll wait for you in the car.” He said, climbing off of him. “Want me to keep the outfit?”

“No.” Sami said, not wanting to mention he had his own car, too.

“Good, because it rides up too much.” Kevin said, giving Sami one last kiss to the forehead before walking away to the locker room.

Sami sighed happily. His foul mood from earlier now gone, he hopped off of the equipment trunk. He made his way into Aldis's office and sat down as the GM looked over some files, not really looking at Sami.

“Well, for starters, I obviously have to fine you for being on the wrong show without permission or a ticket. I gave you a pass for WarGames, but that time has passed...”

“Fair enough,” Sami said with a sigh. He knew he should've just done a Zoom call, instead.

(Even if there are fringe benefits to showing up on my boyfriend's show...)

“Honestly, I expect better of you, Sami. Despite Pearce and other past authorities' horror stories. Why would you–?” Aldis started to ask, glancing over at Sami at last. He paused, then sighed, dropping the files onto his desk before rubbing his temples. “Oh, of course. That's why...”

“What?” Sami asked.

Aldis pulled out his phone. He set the camera on selfie mode and showed Sami the screen.

In the digital reflection, he saw his face was smeared with the remnants of Kevin's face paint and smudges of black lipstick. Sami groaned. “I am so sorry, Nick!”

Aldis stashed his phone and reached into his desk. He pulled out a decanter of some form of alcohol and a glass. He poured himself a drink and took a sip.

“Alright, now that I know it's going to be one of those nights, let's discuss what happened...”

[otdiaftg]

The King's Men - Chapter Three

Day: Friday, January 5th Time: 11:10 PM EST

Kevin kept making inroads into the drinks. Andrew watched the crowd and sipped his drink at a snail's pace. Neil didn't know what to say to either of them, so he made himself busy. He traded the remaining full glasses on the tray for the empty ones littering the table and headed to the bar. Roland took it from him as soon as he was able. Neil folded his arms on the bar counter and watched Roland mix the next batch. "So Andrew finally gave in, huh?" Roland said. "That looks pretty bad." Neil almost reached for his face, but Roland was looking at his wrists. Neil's new shirt was long-sleeved, but it was made of a thin material meant to breathe easy in a packed club. The ends had slid up his forearms a bit when he folded his arms. He tugged the hems back down, knowing it was too late to hide the half-healed lacerations. As he did so he realized that rumble in Roland's words was all checked laughter. Roland gave an apologetic grin when Neil frowned up at him. "I'd wondered if being clean would cure that hands-off rule of his. Makes sense it wouldn't, now that we know about..." Roland shook his head and visibly forced his anger back. "I don't know whether to say 'thanks' for easing my curiosity or 'sorry' that sobriety has obviously exacerbated the problem. Just so you know, they make padded cuffs. You should look into them." "The problem," Neil echoed, lost. "What hands-off rule?" Roland looked startled, then confused. "You don't know? But then..." "I got these in a fight," Neil said. "Why would Andrew do this to me?" "Uh, you don't know," Roland said again, not a question anymore but a backpedal out of the conversation. "You know what, let's just forget I said anything. No, really," he said when Neil opened his mouth to argue. "Hey, here. Your drinks are done. I've gotta check on the rest of my customers." He vanished before Neil could get more than a "What" out. Neil stared after him, but there were no answers here.

Art used with permission by Smokesontheroof. Thank you so much @smokesontheroof

[samijey]

broke my promise to myself and actually watched the jey/gunther match and let me tell you... whoever booked that finish wanted jey to look like an idiot. mega rant under the cut which you should honestly read im not your mama but you should read it

he splashes gunther after getting dominated for 80% of the match and an (honestly underwhelming) spear and we're meant to believe the +2yr champion who's beaten virtually everyone on the roster (including drew who recently beat jey TWICE) was about to be defeated right there?......okay............ but it gets worse

when the referee (for no real good reason) stops the count at 2 after jimmy rings the bell, jey "forgets" about gunther and turns his back to him, allowing gunther to get back up almost IMMEDIATELY (remember we were meant to think he was about to be beaten 5 seconds earlier) yet jey quickly superkicks him BUT THEN decides to dive at jimmy on the outside instead of going directly for another splash (girl help) so ofc when he does go for the splash, gunther gets the knees up, and to add a cherry on top of this shit sunday, pins jey right there after performing no extra offense - doesn't even roll him up, jey just lies there flat on his back and gets pinned (while michael cole screams "GUNTHER ROLLS UP JEY USO" to make me even more mad, apparently, as zero actual rolling takes place in the ring - just a leg hook & weight on the shoulders combo... and not a particularly vicious one either) I just ??????

and of-fucking-course as the TV feed gets cut, cue cody and punk who come out all smiles ready to do the usual fanservice routine for the live crowd and suddenly jey is mostly done selling what just happened and is smiling along with whatever you wanna call it - sending the crowd home happy?? since when did that become mandatory for broadcast shows??? why can't emotionally devastating moments count just as much when it comes to delivering a satisfying ending to the live crowd??? are you telling me they couldnt have had jey walk to the back WHILE SELLING the heartbreak/frustration of what happened and THEN send cody out to do the fanservice thing??? fuck maintaining suspension of disbelief I guess - you can't even argue that "it's fine it was just a treat for the live crowd" because WWE has posted the footage everywhere and promoted it heavily.

imagine if after the camera stopped rolling at last year's rumble, sami had got up, undone kevin's handcuffs and they both hugged and cut a cheerful promo at the crowd - everyone would've blasted wwe for undermining the impact of that finish and not letting the moment breathe.

here's another, even more similar example - remember what happened after summerslam when jimmy attacked jey? he sold the devastation of the moment all the way until he exited the arena, so why is this any different? because it's "just" TV and not a PPV? nah, i'll tell you why: because wwe does not give a shit about this current version of jey's character - he's there to spew the same catchphrase 100x an hour (because it sells merch and pops the crowd let's be honest), display a grand total of two personality traits, and rub his popularity off onto the people wwe actually consider stars

for comparison - you cannot tell me that if it was cody in this position (just lost an important match thanks to the most important person in his life + got attacked by them on top of it) wwe wouldn't have had him look devastated or cut an emotional, tearful promo that would've then been posted and promoted everywhere

"chill, it's not that serious" my apologies for wanting something i love (and KNOW can be so much better with minimal effort) to have a basic level of logic and thought put into it, it's not like wrestling booking is rocket science and we know wwe is NOT incapable of actually delivering good stuff ���??? the standards for this show are so damn low and seeing no one else be bothered by it does my fucking head in ouch ouch wheres the aspirin bye

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Hello! Know I actually set an alarm so I wouldn't forget to send an ask this time.

Would you please bless us with either vapdrew or angel Neil?

I really missed having the chance to ask for them. Thank you! Have a great day!

WIP Wednesday (6/5) | Vampire Andrew AU (Part 136)

After a couple weeks of silently lusting after Kevin and trying to keep his fangs to himself, Andrew finds it time for the Foxes to move back into the dorm. Of course, he and his bunch hadn’t left. Kevin needed to stay near the court and Andrew was able to talk the superintendent into letting them stay through the break. So the four of them have nothing to do today but watch as their teammates filter in and struggle up the stairs with their various junk.

Moving in last year had been a real treat for Andrew. You see, him having vampiric strength meant Nicky and Aaron unanimously voted him the Chief of Moving Heavy Furniture. And he’d brought in the couch, entertainment center, and TV all by himself. Those bastards. Well, at least it was funny hearing Boyd’s thoughts when he caught Andrew dragging the couch up the stairs behind him with one hand. 

(Andrew can very nearly pick up his car. A sofa is nothing.)

But yes, thanks to Kevin’s crippling inability to be more than five minutes from the court, Andrew has no plans today except sitting and staring out the window. And fidgeting a bit. After the third time his leg starts bouncing, Andrew lights up a cigarette and lets the nicotine settle his nerves.

Yes. He’s a bit anxious.

He hates to admit it, but starting today he’s only going to be a couple rooms away from Neil. Over the past month, he’s had the others step between them every time his blood calls out to Andrew. Which… Was a lot. He’s had to stop himself from lunging at the striker at least a dozen times. 

And that’s not even counting the handful of instances where he’s had an intrusive voice in his head telling him to track Neil down and have a bite. He’s still not sure what that is. And he doesn’t want to know. He’ll just keep tuning it out and everything will be fine as wine. 

‘You know exactly what I am. I’m you,’ says a whisper in Andrew’s ear and he slaps it away like a pesky fucking mosquito.

[wrestlezaynia]

Not sure if you're taking requests of these prompts, if you are this would be nice please, if not, that's okay, just ignore this

"Accidentally" walking in on someone naked prompts.

Embarrassed:

"I'm sorry, I-" *your sentence cut short as your eyes wander*

"About Last Night."

Kevin grumbles as the sun seeps into the room, turning on his side to avoid the blinding light when he notices Sami isn't laying beside him. Did he leave without saying goodbye? No, Sami wouldn't do that. Would he? The mere concept making his heart sink as he pries himself out of bed to use the bathroom, wearing only a pair of boxers.

Upon entering the bathroom, he's met with a titillating sight: Sami, fresh out of the shower, with a towel hugging his hips. "I'm sorry, I..." Kevin trails off, losing his train of thought as he excuses himself from the room, images of their steamy encounter flooding his brain.

Sami emerges from the bathroom moments later still wearing a towel, his face flushed. An awkward silence befalls them, so quiet you can hear a pin drop. "Are we going to talk about last night or pretend it never happened?" Sami asks nervously, butterflies in his stomach.

Kevin can feel his stomach churn as the question escapes Sami's lips. He remembers last night vividly. Every kiss, every touch, permanently etched in his memory. "What's there to talk about?" Kevin counters, maintaining his composure despite his insides shaking. "We had sex."

Sami shakes his head in response, his emotions beginning to stir. "That wasn't "just sex," Kev." He retorts, his voice wavering slightly. "I felt something last night, something I never felt with anyone." Sami confesses softly, his heart beating fast. "I know you felt it too."

He did feel it. He'll never forget the look Sami gave him when he was thrusting inside him. So pure, so full of love as he made sweet, passionate love to him. Their bodies moving perfectly in sync. "You're making too big a deal of this Sami, it was just sex." Kevin replies, averting his gaze, knowing Sami could see right through his façade.

Sami knows Kevin and knows when he's lying. "Kevin, look at me." He coaxes, tilting his chin forcing him to make eye contact. "It's okay to be scared, I'm scared too but I can't keep fighting my feelings for you."

Sami has him backed into a corner, there is no escape. On the verge of surrender, the wall he built around his heart starting to crumble as he slaps Sami's hand away in desperation. "I'm not scared, Sami."

"You are scared Kevin, you're terrified!" Sami interjects, growing weary of his stubbornness. "Look at you, you're shaking." He adds, touching Kevin's arm. "Kev, it's okay." Sami soothes, skimming over Kevin's skin with his fingertips. "You're my best friend, you can tell me anything."

By now Kevin's emotions are spiraling out of control. He wanted, no, needed to tell Sami but, unfortunately, expressing his feelings isn't Kevin's forte so he settles on pulling Sami into his arms, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Finding solace in his warm embrace.

A soft smile adorns Sami's face as he gladly returns the hug, holding him close with no intention of letting go. "I'm here, Kev." He whispers softly, caressing the small of Kevin's back. "And I always will be."

A sense of comfort washes over Kevin as he clings to Sami tightly. Between Sami gently stroking his back and their bare chests pressed flush together, he's beginning to feel a little too relaxed.

Sami's arms are like a second home to Kevin and when he's holding him all of his problems melt away. "Looks like someone's feeling better." Sami quips, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as his gaze drifts from the bulge jutting from Kevin's boxers to back on Kevin.

And just like that, Kevin's struck with another wave of emotion. The way Sami's looking at him gives him butterflies and the longer Kevin stares into his warm honey eyes, the braver he becomes. "Sami, I-"

"I know Kev, you don't have to say it." Sami soothes, reaching down to cup Kevin's cheek. "I can see it in your eyes."

Kevin leans into Sami's touch, sending shivers up his spine. "I want to say it." Kevin insists, releasing the breath he didn't realize he's holding. "Sami..." Kevin's voice is soft, barely above a whisper. "I'm in love with you." His heart pounding as the confession slips past his lips, tears brimming his eyes. A sense of fear and excitement washing over him.

Hearing Kevin whisper those five little words fills Sami's heart with joy. His own eyes welling with tears when he notices Kevin's, beaming with pride that he has finally built up the courage to tell him how he feels. "I'm so in love with you." Sami whispers back, his voice trembling as their lips connect in a tender kiss, excited for what the future holds.

Tagging: @loki69zowens, @wrestlingdespairings, @eleanor24, @go-beatrizaf-blog and @wrestlingprincess80. My sincerest apologies if you wanted to be tagged, Tumblr still isn't tagging properly! 🙄 Regardless, thank you for reading and my requests are open! 😊💖

[kiwiaok]

one more bit from “my love mine all mine” bc I’m actually kinda proud of how I captured drugged andrew’s thought process:

Everything's so damn funny lately. Kevin's desperation to get him to care about exy, the scarecrow of the man that hides under the name Neil, Wymack looking at him like he might be worth something more than the knives hidden under his armbands. And the pills, especially those little bastards. They're so funny they squeeze involuntary giggles through his teeth all the time.

It's truly hilarious that after so many survived years, Andrew is still just a naïve little kid on the inside. That all his truths still crumble when faced with reality. Andrew thought that even if his choices and body were never his, at least his mind was his own. That he could always take shelter in the privacy of his own head, that this was the one thing he would always have control over. And he fought for it, too. It's why he actually cooperated with Bee - he decided that he wouldn't allow anything, not memories and not past experiences to take control over his thoughts. Now, the pills laugh at him from where he sees them out of the corner of his eye.

Andrew laughs right back at them, dizzy and nauseous. It's like he has been spinning for a long time, and he can't stop. His thoughts cycle constantly, wildly; blue pills, blue eyes, blue like cyan, that's like cyanide, one of the symptoms of the poisoning is shortness of breath and tinnitus, tinnitus, there is always ringing in his ears but he doesn't know if it's from screaming or laughing and he doesn't know if it's coming from his own mouth or from other's and he doesn't know when was the last time he could take a full breath and there are maggots crawling under his skin, and he wants to cut himself open and pluck them out one by one, but he's not allowed, and he's not allowed to stop either, to pause, to breathe, to think.

Frankly, it's exhausting. Constant racing thoughts, a constant stream of feelings fabricated entirely from those funny little pills. Every time he's fed one of those, on a schedule, like a fucking dog, he obediently swallows and then imagines little blue, cyan pills dancing around in his brain. Andrew doesn't think that's the drugs' desired effect, but he doesn't say anything. Enough words fall unbidden from his mouth these days.

He stays quiet and never alone and never in control, just him and the dancing pills, spinning, spinning like on a carousel, and oh he was on a carousel once with Cass, Cass like Cassandra, that database management system that supports computer clusters, Andrew knows because he read about it once and now his mind will never let him forget and Andrew thinks he needs a Cassandra for his brain to manage all clusters of his memories and then he remembers that he needed Cass too, not that long ago, Cass the person, not the database system and he wanted her to stay but where Cass was there was Drake and there were hands dancing on his skin, dancing just like those little pills and isn't that so funny? It seems funny. Everything's so damn funny lately.