#and ive been waiting for this for months and ive wanted to see Nathaniel for AGES

[lupismaris]

Less than two hours till we spend the evening with Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats (💕) and Uncle Willie Nelson & Family (!!!)

Yes I bought fresh pre rolls for this yes I will be properly medicated before hand and during yes we will be bringing very large bottles of water to fill up while we are there because it had to be the hottest fuck off Day of the goddamn year so far

I'm going to be very annoying tonight

Just for the record

[roger-that-cap]

tolerate it

part 2/2 of cardigan!

so, this is the follow up to my first ever one shot (guess not anymore LMAO) up here! i sincerely hope that you guys like this, because it was like pulling teeth for this one. every now and again i’d find a golden one and smack it in there and hope that one decent line made up for all the others.

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

this was the hardest thing ive ever had to write (simply because there was so much emotion in it and it was hard to reel myself back in just to cast out again) and i had to write a paper on nathaniel hawthorne.

warnings: pretty angsty for me, bittersweet, um- why do i write angst, DRAMATICS hahaha

word count: 4.5k!

would like to remind you that i do not own taylor swift songs! this one borrows a little from tolerate it, the best song on evermore imho (tied with coney island).

You knew that opening the door was going to be a hard part, but what you didn’t prepare for was actually listening to her. You could have stared at her for eternity in silence, just harping on everything good and bad that ever happened between the two of you. You could imagine a thousand different scenarios where the two of you were happy and none of this had occurred, but that wasn’t the case. She didn’t come to you to stare and leave.

“Thank you,” Natasha said, her voice throaty as she took a cautious first step into your space. Your space. It sounded weird, and you knew that it felt weird to her. You two had shared everything for the longest, and now you had your own place to live in. “Thank you for letting me in.”

“You came to talk,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, and she didn’t miss the obvious tell of your body language. “I won’t make you waste your time. Say your piece, and then...” you trailed off, both of you knowing full well where you were going with it. 

“Can I just start with the fact that I’m so sorry,” she blurted, and you have her an unamused look as you sat on your couch, and she sat on the edge of it. “And that I don’t know why that happened. I don’t expect for you to ever forgive me, and I don’t forgive myself. I won’t ever forgive myself for hurting you so badly, and having such a lapse in judgement. I’m sorry.”

“What was it that was different?” You asked, the question that had been haunting you for a while now finally escaping your lips. When she gave you a confused look, you stared back at her. “What was so different about whatever happened on the mission?”

You didn’t ask what you did wrong, because you didn’t do anything wrong. It took you weeks to know that, weeks to come to the conclusion, but you knew. It wasn’t anything that you lacked, it was something that Natasha did. Whether it was loyalty, restraint, a moral compass, or even something else, you didn’t think that it was you.

“There was nothing different.”

You were trying to hold it together, but you knew that you were seconds from falling apart right in front of the person who had destroyed you. “You don’t have to lie.”

She made a face. “There wasn’t. There was nothing about her that was better than you, I swear.”

But there was nothing different. There was nothing different in the way that you held her to the way that Abigail did, then. There must have been nothing different in the way that you kissed her in the morning. Nothing special about how you would dance with her on the third of the month simply because you liked the number three. There was nothing special about the way you held her hand and rubbed her back and sometimes sang her to sleep when she needed it. And there was certainly nothing different or special about the way that you let her put her head on your chest, just so that she could hear your heart beating.

Maybe what you did was different or special to you and not to her. And maybe it was time for you to finally realize it, whether it hurt or not.

Your emotions were threatening to come through, and you couldn’t have that happen. “I thought you came to talk. Talking requires truth.”

“I did,” she rushed, and then she sighed and wiped her palms on her thighs. You knew what that was. Of course you knew what she was. That was her being nervous. “I just wanted you to know that I love you, I love you so much, no matter what you choose. I never meant for any of it to happen, and I hate myself for making you feel that way.”

“You knew what happened with the others,” you said, and you knew that she knew that you were talking about the men who used to cheat on you without thinking twice. You saw her wince. “You knew how I felt about dishonesty. You knew how long it took me to be fully trusting of you, and you ruined it for two months of fun?”

“I know I did.”

“Do you know that, Natasha?” You asked, your voice starting to raise a bit. “I trusted you, and then I gave you everything I had. There wasn’t a piece of me that wasn’t for you, don’t you get that? I painted a portrait of us with the best colors I had and you opened the door on me doing the finishing touches and threw black paint over it.”

She was surprised that you were actually allowing yourself to be angry, and that made you even more upset. You were allowed to be pissed. “I’m sorry,” she breathed out, a thin layer of tears in her eyes.

“I did- I had everything lying out on the table for you emotionally. It was wrapped so pretty for you when I helped you through your own stuff, and it waited until you were ready. There wasn’t a thing you didn’t know, not a secret kept from you. And I still can’t believe that you returned me being in love with you, with that.”

“It didn’t mean anything to me. None of it meant anything to me at all, I swear.”

“It meant something to Abigail,” you said, and you saw her flinch. “It meant something to the girl that told you that she loved you. And if I’m not mistaken, you told her the same. So did it really not mean something, or are you an even larger liar than I thought?”

“It didn’t mean anything.” For a spy, she was quite easy to read. Or maybe you just spent so much time knowing her that it was impossible to not know her inside and out. You knew her every movement that she made when she lied, and you knew what she looked like when she was telling the truth. This, this wasn’t it.

And it destroyed you.

“Don’t you understand how that feels? It feels like being cut a thousand times by the fancy blade that you made yourself. It feels like being bitten by your own dog. It feels like being nearly drowned in the oceans that you’ve swam in for forever. We were so close! We were so close that I was sure that we were predestined or some of that cheesy shit, Natasha. I could have sworn that we were meant for each other, but now I know that we were, because the betrayal that you did cut me down into a million pieces. That was something that neither of the others were able to do. That’s something that only you could do, and I trusted you not to do it. I never thought you could do it. I thought that you loved me far too much to pull the shit that you did.

“Maybe I was foolish enough to make the knife right in front of you, but I trusted you to know it was there and not use it against me. And you still stabbed me with it.” Your voice cracked and you could feel warm tears falling into your hand, but you didn’t care. You had to keep going. “How could you see me give and give and give to you, for you, and then tolerate it and go see someone else?”

She was breathing heavily after your rant, like she had spoken the words instead. A singular tear came down her face, and you thanked whoever was sitting above and watching for the crack in her mask. You were begging to see her half as emotional as you, half as hurt by her own actions.

You knew that it was different when you saw her wipe her tear. She never wiped her tears around you. You were the only one who got to see them, but you supposed not even you were allowed to see it anymore.

“I can’t even begin-” her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I regret what happened.”

“How do you regret-” you pursed your lips and shook your head, closing your eyes for a second as your heart clenched. “How do you regret falling in love with someone?”

“I don’t love her-”

“Do you love me?” You asked.

“More than I love anything else in the entire world.”

“You loved her more if you risked me losing me, Natasha.” You said, and her brows shot up at your conclusion. “You know what would happen if you did that to me and I found out. You knew you would lose me, and you did it anyway. So you two must have had something special. Congrats.”

“No, you’re-”

The temper that you tried to keep in check was bubbling over again, and you realized that there was no checking yourself. “Do you know how long I waited for you and never cheated? Never had sex with anyone else, never went on a date with anyone else? For just as long as you were supposed to! And I managed! So what’s wrong with you?”

“Y/N, I think we should calm down a little. Let’s talk it out for a second.”

“I’ve been talking it out. All by myself, actually, because you’re too afraid to do a damn thing and admit that you fucked up for two months straight.” You closed your eyes again as you felt the hurt come back up. “How do I know it was just that time? How do I know that?”

There was a silence that spoke volumes. “You don’t.”

“And what if we got back together, after all of this?” It was hypothetical, but seeing the hope perk up in her sparked something that you hadn’t felt towards her in forever. Or, you had, it was just smothered by the heat of your fury. “How would I know that you aren’t off pulling the same thing you did earlier?”

“You’d have to trust me.”

“Well, I can’t do that. I literally can’t,” you cried out, putting your head in your hands and shaking you head. It was quiet except for the sounds of your cries, and it was ominous. There was never a quiet moment between you and Natasha, but you were dying out, fizzling away. You already had your Big Bang, now you were creating black holes that would forever remain on opposite sides of the universe. And you both knew it.

“You- you humiliated me,” you shook your head from left to right again, face still hidden. “You had an affair with a younger girl, you did it in front of the people I shared a living space with. You did it shamelessly in front of the people I cooked meals for every day, the people who’s fucking uniforms I ironed! They were my friends too, Natasha, and you humiliated me. You made them keep your dirty secret, did you apologize to them?”

“I haven’t spoken to them much.”

“I had to figure out from Pepper in front of the wedding dress store,” you continued, your throat tightening. “I was there getting the dress that I was going to walk down the aisle in. Everything was perfect, and then you did something that shattered what I thought couldn’t be broken.” You had thought that you and Natasha were rock solid, the hardest stone. You two were diamonds that sparkled and prevailed together, until you learned that you were truly just glass.

She leaned forward, giving you a look that you knew meant honesty. But it was far too late for that, and it wasn’t going to do Natasha much good now. “I wish every second of the day that I didn’t do it, Y/N. Every second of every day.”

Your lips turned into a scowl. “Wishing doesn’t do anything for us. We’re not little kids and we’re not princesses.”

That word, wishing, must have been the one to do her in, because she was sobbing right into her own sleeve, an arm covering her eyes from your sight. Your tears were subsiding, and you watched her with thinly pressed lips. Watching her cry was never pleasant.

“I’m so, so sorry. I can’t- I can’t imagine how you must feel, but I’m so sorry. I don’t know why- I can only apologize to you and beg that you’ll welcome me back to you, where I’m supposed to be.” Your eye twitched as you listened, and told yourself to keep your strength up. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, baby, but I know now. I know who I’m meant to be with, and it wasn't her. It’s you, it always has been.”

You knew that. You had always known that. It was a fact, something that had always rang as true as the beating of your own heart. You knew that it was written in the stars for you by some gracious god who decided to reveal what could have been your present and future to you, but you guess the other half of the tale never saw it herself. She knew now, sure. But she learned a little too late for your taste.

“Please, you have to know. You have to know that I didn’t- that I would never do it again.” 

How could you tell someone that their apology wasn’t enough? How could you reject someone when they were at their lowest point? How were you going to find the strength in yourself to turn down the woman that you still very much loved? The one that you thought that you lost to another was right in front of you, begging for a second chance, but was it right for you to give it to her?

But how could she see you at your most vulnerable every day and know that you loved and cared for her with your whole heart and still do what she did? How was she okay with ruining you after all that you had been through? How did she not feel bad for two months about betraying the one person who she knew would be forever in her corner?

Whatever her method was to do things that hurt the people she supposedly loved, she found a way. And so would you.

“Have you said what you needed to?” You asked, your tone slow and deliberate as you fought for your tears not to ruin your words. Just as slowly, she nodded. “Then, please leave.”

A noise left her throat. “Please, wait. Wait.”

“There’s nothing left to say, Nat. We said it all.” You stood up, and she followed. “Fix your relationships at the tower, alright?”

“Don’t,” she muttered, tears streaming down her face. “Please don’t tell me that you don’t want to try and then act like you care about me.”

You both walked to the door, because you knew that I the end she would do what you asked of her. “We were friends first.” You insisted. “We were friends first, Natasha, so I care. So, because we were friends first, I’ll tell you to get better. Work on yourself. Fall in love with someone else. Maybe not with two people at the same time.”

Her face was utterly pitiful. Her eyes were watering in a way you had never seen them do before, and her hands were shaking. You had seen the most of Natasha that anyone had in the entire world, yet you had never seen her so torn apart, so open. She laid it all out for you like you had been doing for her for years, and now you were finally the one to ruin the pretty picture. “Please.” 

As soft as a gentle breeze came your next word. “No.” You yanked your apartment door open, and then you were both shivering. She looked up at you, her face full of an expression of the most shattered you had seen her yet, and the part of you that still ached prayed that it would be the last time you would ever see her at all.

Your body moved on its own. It asked for one more point of contact, just one more before you deprived yourself from the person you loved the most. Your lips pressed against the crown of her head as you told yourself it was for your own good. Your eyes shut as you put your hands on her shoulders, and tears were turning spots of her red hair dark. She was shaking underneath you, crying even harder than you were. You pulled away from her and opened the door wider.

“Wish you all the best, Nat.”

She walked away, off of your porch and into the night. You shut the door.

§§

You figured that you would miss her, but it wasn’t as bad as it was in the early part of leaving. By the time you moved on, it was far past the date of the wedding and even further past your anniversary. Sometimes it still hurt to think about how your life could have been had she chosen to stay faithful, but you learned that the scenarios hurt more than they helped and stopped.

You had a steady job, could keep up with the rent on your apartment, had enough for groceries and even had spare to get your nails done if you wanted to. You were doing it all, and you were doing it well after being attached at the hip to someone else for years and years.

There was a time where you would have thought that living without Natasha would be excruciating. The first night after you stormed out and cried yourself to sleep, you were sure that it would be painful, every night without her next to you would be like a stab in the gut. But after a while, it really wasn’t.

At first, it was. You missed her terribly, and, a part of you still did. You missed the good things that happened, but you realized that the good didn’t erase the bad, and that the bad didn’t erase the good. So, after a long time of thinking about her, your stance on Natasha Romanoff wasn’t hateful, or upset, or vengeful. You barely had one.

You thought about her and saw a book that you had finished reading a long time ago. Impactful at the time you read it, of course, and it could leave a longing imprint, but it was over. You could never relive that exact moment ever again that you read her, not a good one or a bad one. The hardest, most intense part of it was over, so far behind you that you could breathe again. 

And damn, did it feel good to breathe. 

§§§

Seeing her was awkward, and it was something that came straight out of your outdated imagination. You were by yourself buying apples at the market that you always went to because you adored fresh fruit, checking for bruises on them that were never there. You were carrying four in a bag with a content look on your face, just walking around and looking at other fruits and vegetables when you felt someone’s eyes on you. You looked up.

Sam Wilson was looking right at you, his jaw a little slack as he recognized you. You hadn’t seen him since you stormed out of the compound god knows how long ago. Within seconds, your life at the tower and memories with him flashed in your head. You two would cook together side by side often, and that's where you would do most of your bonding and talking with him. Your heart clenched for a moment, and then you raised the hand that wasn’t occupied and gave him a wave and a half smile, one that you hoped told him that you weren’t angry.

You looked back to the vegetables and then at the sign on the table. Damn, that’s kind of expensive. You shrugged your shoulders and put the greens on the weighing machine anyway, and pulled the money out of your purse for it. You smiled at the vendor and left with your new bag, wiggling your eyes at the strawberry table and starting your approach. 

“Hi,” an achingly familiar voice called out while you were steps away from the table of deliciously red strawberries. You could smell them from where you were at. You turned around still, even after easily identifying who the voice belonged to. “How are you?”

She was as beautiful as ever, the top of her head under a blue ball cap and her eyebrows perfectly done. Her eyes were hidden by shades, but you didn’t need to see them to know what she was thinking. Her arms were loose at her sides, but her fingers were moving strangely, and you noticed them immediately as her nervous tick. You took in a deep breath. 

“I’m good, how about you?” You asked Natasha back, and she gave you a pained smile.

“I’m alright.”

“Oh, sweet,” you said, and then gave her a parting smile before turning towards the strawberries.

“Wait,” she called out.

You stopped and turned your head, even though you wanted more than anything to forget that you ran into her. “Yes?”

There was a moment of silence between you two, and then she took a step forward. “Are you still upset?” She asked, voice lower in volume than usual. 

You almost scoffed at her. “I’m an adult, I can’t really be sad for long or I’ll forget to pay a bill or something.”

“Can we talk?” She started, and you held up a hand.

“Let’s not open up old wounds,” you said, already knowing exactly where she was going with all of her hesitance and fiddling with her thumbs.

“I need to apologize for what happened.”

You shrugged. “I forgive you. Actually, I forgave you weeks and weeks ago. It’s okay. We can move on from it.” We need to move on from it. 

You saw your old lover’s face light up in just the slightest, but just as fast as you saw it, it was gone. Her lack of wanting to express to you didn’t hurt anymore. “We?”

“We can move on,” you repeated, “just not together.” Her face dropped at what you said, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I fucked up.”

Yes, you did. “It’s in the past now.”

There was a pause, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You wondered when your heart started to beat on its own again and not for the woman standing so close yet so far away. You wondered when you started to do anything for just yourself, and you wondered when you had stopped doing that in the first place. Her voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Is it?”

You almost had to ask her to remind you what the conversation was about. “Oh. It is,” you said gently, but your voice was still stern. “All good things must come to an end, and what we had was good. It was great, and that must have meant that we were destined to end fast.”

She shook her head slightly. “If you- if you forgive me, it doesn’t have to be over.”

“It does.” You looked at your phone and sighed. “I have to leave.”

“Okay,” She said softly after a moment, and finally took a step back. It was a small one, like her body was trying to override her brain. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you, Nat.” You saw her wince, and if you hadn’t made peace with everything, you would have, too.

She took another step back and cleared her throat, just as Sam started making his way over. She nodded at you, and you gave her a small smile, almost encouraging. Just walk away, this is the last time you’ll have to do it. “Later,” She said, her voice a little hoarse as she turned on her heel and walked right past Sam.

“Later” meant never. And you didn’t know if you were supposed to feel nothing or everything about it.

§§§

The last time you saw Natasha Romanoff was a year later, when you were holding hands with a pretty woman from an art show that you went to. She stole your heart with her work, and she turned out just as beautiful on the inside as she was with a brush, and on the outside. Her name was Julie, and she was great. She was honest. 

You really liked Julie. She wasn’t Natasha, though, and it was both refreshing and saddening, because you knew that what you felt with Natasha was a one time thing. You two had one chance to keep the bond that was seemingly inseparable and stronger than steel together, and everyone was rooting for you. And then, it just fell apart.

You knew that Natasha was your first actual love, and the only person who was ever going to be able to love you emotionally like you needed to be. The two of you were, in your mind, made for each other. If soulmates existed, Natasha would have been yours, and you would have been hers. You knew that even five years after not being with her, and while the hole in your heart wasn’t hollow, you had a feeling that a little something was always going to be cold, like a cavity that was never filled. Someone saying her name or asking about her was like chewing ice on it.

But people moved on. Just like you did. And you had moved on from the beautiful yet icy mountains of Natasha and into a soft and whimsical meadow, and that meadow was Julie. 

You were holding hands with Julie, arms swinging as you were leaving the donut shop and talking about silly things that made the both of you grin when you caught a familiar flash of red. Out of instinct, you looked over your shoulder, and what you saw made you freeze.

Natasha Romanoff was with a girl with brown skin and black hair that was glinting in the sunlight, and she wasn’t focused on the way that you and Natasha locked eyes in that moment, the moment that seemed to last years. You didn’t think you were still moving, and it certainly didn’t feel like you were taking a step, but you were. You saw her blue-green eyes blink at you, and like you were still stuck on the same wavelength after all that time, you both raised a hand and gave a timid wave, small smiles gracing the both of your faces.

You saw the girl tug lightly on Natasha’s arm, and your grin stretched. Natasha looked over at the girl, and an immediate smile, one similar but not quite the same as she used to give to you, was on her face. You turned your head forward, a light smile still on your own face as you watched it all happen in a split second.

You both kept walking.

*****

ahahaha wow, that hurt really bad actually - never doing angst again i’m a fluffy type of gal

so i’ve never done a taglist before! so i hope i’m doing it right otherwise this’ll make me look incredibly dumb-

@messuhp @username23345 @fishlikestuff @thelastavenger-3000 @grievingfortheliving @madamevirgo @dontmindmejustreading @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @sourpatchspinster @fayhar @sarcasticallywitty15 @normanijauregui

[jemej3m]

hi i love love love your writing! sorry if people have been asking this but ive been looking for a part three of your lawyer!andrew and neil is on trial for killing his father and I wasnt sure if I missed it or if you haven’t continued it. Just wondering thank you ❤️

well GUEsS WHAT MY FRIEND 

its here!!!

(p1 / p2)

*

Andrew didn’t like to drag things out, but the prosecution did. They always did. It was their only joy in life, especially in appeals: tease every possible fraying strand of a case till they were three weeks into the trial and the jury was dead on their feet. 

And yet, here he was, on the second day of his closing. He’d never made it to a second day: once he’d finished a closing in five minutes. 

Neil had grown progressively more antsy over the three weeks, desperate for a resolution. Every time he was scanned into court, Andrew took his favourite key and slipped it into his pocket. Every time he left to be escorted back to his temporary holding cell in Baltimore’s central policing station, he gave it back for safekeeping. Andrew would hold it, the metal still warm to the touch, the teeth of the key worn with how many times Neil would run the tips of his fingers over it. 

Professionalism, Betsy had warned him. 

But damn it all to hell: Andrew was gone. 

“Mr Minyard, if you would continue where we left off last night?” the judge drawled. Andrew could read people better than books: it wasn’t looking good. This was his last chance.

He stood up, shoved down the strange anger that had simmered beneath his skin every time the prosecution slid their pompous gazes over him, and closed his laptop. His briefcase. Put away his notes and hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his slacks. 

“Your honour,” he said, with as much grace as his perpetually bored tone allowed. “This case is beyond that of my client. That much we can all agree upon.”

He waited for an answer. 

The judge cocked her head. “Yes, Minyard.” 

“It is a gruesome story of a luckless, loveless marriage, made for the sakes of alliances and blood money. Mary Wesninski paid that price with her life, when her husband took his favourite weapon - a cleaver - to her throat. My client was 17 when that happened. He was a minor. A child.” 

He turned to the jury. “Over and over, I have rebutted the prosecution’s solitary and feeble argument that my client is Nathan Wesninski’s son. The very Nathan Wesninski who earned his name, the Butcher, through bloody campaigns and fearmongering. That Nathaniel Wesninski was destined to follow his father’s path and continue his legacy.” 

“If it weren’t for his mother, perhaps he would have,” Andrew said, rocking back on his heels. “Without intervention, there’s no doubt that Nathaniel Wesninski would have been a carbon copy of his predecessor, and just as bloodthirsty. But that man -” he pointed at Neil. “That man is not Nathaniel Wesninski. Not in the way his father wanted him to be.”

“We’ve seen the pictures of my client’s torso. The bullet wounds and gruesome knifings that he earned whilst clawing desperately to free himself from his father’s iron grasp. Worse still: we’ve seen the proof of a tormented childhood, skin torn off by a hot iron, stitches from misplaced butter knives at the dinner table when Junior, seven years old, didn’t sit still enough. A crooked nose, broken three times before he managed to escape.”

He looked to the one woman who he knew would recognise this pain, this trauma. 

“You should have no doubt in your minds that this man here, my client,” Andrew said, voice lowered down. “This man was simply fighting for his life. He was running from his worst nightmare, clawing desperately for freedom when all he’d known was pain, chains and despair. He fought against what his father wished for him, every step of the way. In self-defence, he rid the world a serial killer. A rapist. A man who had committed every atrocity known to humankind. If anything, we should be thanking him.”

The room had gone deathly quiet. 

“Ask yourselves,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Is purging the world of a monster that monstrous of a thing to do?”

He turned back to the judge. 

“My client has served his time. He’s done twice as long as he should have for manslaughter, which is the true nature of this crime. Repeatedly, my client has expressed his willingness to comply with parole measures and prove himself a functioning member of our society. If you have any humanity left within you,” 

He looked over his shoulder at Neil. The man held his gaze, blue eyes so intense that Andrew nearly lost his train of thought. 

“Any humanity at all,” he continued. The judge looked down at him, face blank. “You would grant his mother her dying wish, and finally let this injustice rest.” 

He returned to his desk. “That’s all, your honour.” 

It took her a few moments to clear her throat and call: “Court adjourned.”

Two policemen came and cuffed Neil’s hands behind his back. Andrew had done everything he could: it was out of his hands now. He mightn’t ever see Neil again, if by the afternoon the jury had decided Neil’s pleas were worthless and had him sent him right back to maximum security. 

“Thank you,” the man said, just before he was turned away. “You were amazing.” 

Andrew remained very still until the courtroom was empty. 

Now all he could do was wait.

*

“The ‘dying wish’ thing was intense,” Matt commented around a mouthful of falafel. Dan flicked a crumb off his tie, looking at him with an irritated fondness. Both of them -  Wymack too - had sat in for both days of his closing. Dan because she pretended she had any sense of authority over Andrew, Wymack because he was Andrew’s boss, and Matt because he was fatally friendly and had never missed a closing of any of his coworkers, even Andrew. 

“The whole thing was intense,” Dan grumbled. 

“I bet the sexual tension was off the charts,” Allison called out, kicked up her feet onto her desk as she ignored Renee’s unsubtle shushing. 

Andrew ignored them all. 

“We’re just waiting for the verdict?”

“We’ll be called in when the jury’s ready.” 

“It’s been two days. They’ve dragged this on long enough.” 

The phone on his desk started ringing. He shoved it against his ear and said “What.”

“Mr Minyard? This is Amy Johnston from the Post, I was just wondering if you wanted to comment on the outcome of your most recent case -”

He slammed the phone back down onto the receiver, jolting his coworkers out of their idle chatter. He was going to kill Nicky for letting the press through. His cousin was useless, and the press were even worse: there was no outcome. The jury had been silent for 2 days, and at this rate, it’d probably go into three. 

Wymack texted him. I know you’re still at the office. Go home. 

 Andrew didn’t need to be told twice. 

He careened his ludicrously expensive car into the driveway of his small home. Being a lawyer did have its perks, even if his fellows were curious busybodies and he got attached to impossible cases. He’d crack a better whisky tonight and herald in the news of him impending failure half drunk. 

He was never taking a case like this again. Of course, there was no case quite like Nathaniel Wesninski’s, but the point still remained.  

He unlocked his front door, stepped inside, and immediately stilled. 

The heater was on. 

His briefcase, blazer and tie came off, thrown haphazardly in the general direction of Andrew’s study. When he entered his kitchen, he skidded to a stop. 

“Hi,” Neil said, skin far more bronze without the gaudy orange jumpsuit. Andrew just stared. The man ducked his head down, lacing his fingers behind his back. “I - uh, I got Wymack to call you in sick for the verdict. Wanted to surprise you.” 

“You knew,” Andrew said. “You knew the outcome?”

“Of course,” Neil snorted. “Had to do something with the bloodmoney. Don’t worry, it was only two of them. The rest you had hooked.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Andrew said flatly. Neil’s grin flashed, but he was clearly way out of his depth here. Free and nervous about it. Here, because he thought that Andrew would be the only one that cared. 

And he did. For the first time, he did. 

The man gestured at his ankle. “18 months parole. It’s a bit heavy but I’ll get used to it with time, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck, curls bouncing. “Gotta find somewhere to live, I suppose. Figure out how normal life works. I’m applying for a name change: the first random name generator on Google gave me Josten, so that’s probably what I’ll go with.”

“You’re a disaster,” Andrew managed, fighting every urge not to reach out and comb his fingers through the man’s hair. 

“What else is new?” Neil joked. 

“You said you’d go to law school.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You’re holding me to that?” 

Andrew shrugged. “It’s your life.”

“I suppose you’ll regret taking me on when I end up stealing your cases,” Neil teased, leaning a little closer. 

Andrew reached up and tugged on Neil’s collar. “I don’t believe in regret. But I sure as hell will give you the challenge.”

Neil’s lips quirked up at the side, warping his scars and making Andrew’s chest ache.

“Stay,” Andrew said, softer than he intended. 

And, now that he could choose to, Neil Josten, freshly minted and definitely real, whispered: “Okay.”

*

wow only months later did i finally figure out what i wanted from this 

srry its so short!!

[thotfuss]

the rules: answer 17 questions & tag 17 people you want to know better

tagged by @fionaappletini and a few other people i think but i did not save those posts so :/ but thank you!! <3<3 

this is long so i’ll put it under a read more! 

nickname: i dont really have one :(

zodiac sign: virgo!

height: 5′9

hogwarts house: bro i get a different answer every time i take that test. who knows. hufflepuff? who knows 

last thing i googled: fsdkfjsdlkf it was uh. “rihanna maya hee maya ha” because my coworker and i couldn’t figure out what song that was. 

song stuck in my head: well now its the rihanna maya hee maya ha song. but also mavis by nathaniel rateliff 

following and followers: uhhh i never look. 802 and 4,515

amount of sleep i get: literally like 4 hours. once a month i sleep for like 16 hours which is fun !

lucky number(s): 713, 708, 27 

dream job: i want to work in movies so bad...ive thought a lot about set design! who knows 

wearing:

junji ito shirt babeyy

favorite songs: of all time? all these things that i’ve done by the killers, richie tozier by ok otter, under cover of darkness by the strokes, 12:51 by the strokes, Dream of Mickey Mantle by bleachers, sweet talk by the killers, sleep in the heat by pup. i have more this is too many. uh currently my top 5 on repeat songs are richie tozier ok otter, hope to die orville peck, mavis nathaniel rateliff, missed the boat modest mouse, and time stands nathaniel rateliff

instruments: i’ve played piano since i was like 7? but i haven’t had a piano available since i moved out which was like two years ago :( i miss it lots. i’m teaching myself guitar, and i played clarinet from 6th grade-12th grade bc i was. a band kid 

random facts: GOD im boring i don’t know!! um. i have like 30 piercings and i did probably half of them myself, I collect ticket stubs and WAIT ok this isnt a fact but my favorite story related to ticket stubs is this. i had my 7 ticket stubs from clown movie 2 in my phone case when i met ryan ross. he saw them when he signed my phone case bc i didnt think to take them out and literally pointed them out, he was like “oh what are these movie tickets...cool...what movies...oh It 2 nice. oh are these. are these all from it 2? are these all. different showings of it 2?” and i was like. yes yep. yes they are. and he was like “oh. i haven’t seen it. is it good?” and i said “yeah. i mean i liked it.” and he just was like yeah. obviously. and i think about this every day, what if he went to go see that movie and realized it was bad and just was like man fuck THAT girl for wasting 3 hours of my life. also i barely resisted telling him i have his tweet tattooed on his arm. this was NOT the question. the fun fact is that i met ryan ross and also that i saw the clown movie in theatres 7 times. oh! i haven’t worn matching socks since 3rd grade, at this point its like a Thing. i can’t break the streak. 

aesthetic: i go to the thrift store. I see an ugly shirt. I say “would my mom hate this?” and if the answer is “yes” i buy it. also i own like 8 pairs of overalls. you know the fanon interpretation of richie tozier where he wears like band shirts/ugly hawaiian shirts but in a cool punk way with ripped jeans and docs and a jacket with a billion patches on it? that’s literally what i wear most days of my life. so that? 

tagging people stresses me out! but! @bikenight @foragecore @rchtoziers @theparadigmshifts @jestersbeauregard @troxk @aimeemarch @heart-dyke @tsnlesbian @katistry @hasanminajs @kissrichie @billdenbrough @descent2005​ @businessboyjared @stanchie @adampvrrish if you want to/haven’t been tagged sjdsflkjds.  and also anyone else who wants to feel free to say i tagged you im. literally terrible @ these <3 

[cutlss]

hi everyone! i’m ava and it’s been a hot minute since i’ve been in the rp scene but i'm super stoked to explore these characters with all of you. 

[ eleanor tomlinson / cisfemale / 27 ] ❛ from over the ocean far [ willa netley ] has come from [ wifehood ] to sail upon the fortuna. WILLA is known as the [ green ] on board, fitting considering they are quite [ intrepid & naive ]. supposedly that’s why the captain chose her to be her [ swabbie ]. ❜ / ava. 21. est. she/her.

i.

current position. swabbie name. willa “the green” sweete netley age. 27 date of birth. october 20th gender. female orientation. straight/questioning  religion. catholic.

former ship. n/a former position. wife :/

ii.

faceclaim. eleanor tomlinson hair. red, wild curls, usually pulled back height. 5″6′

iii.

mother. agnes netley (nee tallmadge) father. abraham netley siblings. benjamin, adam, hannah, edward, alice and george. partner. nathaniel sweete n/a

iv.

tw // abortion

willa was the second born child and first daughter to agnes and abraham netley. her mother always told her what a quiet child she was, only cried once or twice until she stopped altogether. after her came the rest of the netley offspring -- adam, hannah, edward, alice and george. benjamin was the eldest of them all but he was gone as soon as he was able.

they weren’t a rich family by any means. they owned some land through inheritance but her father worked incredibly hard to keep the growing family afloat through difficult times, taking time off the farm to work at the local carpenters, leaving the fields to willa and her siblings. her mother wasn’t one for working, nor was she one for mothering. when she was old enough to feed herself agnes had her daughter feeding the others until willa was spending her every waking hour caring for her siblings rather than herself.

she found moments of course, to be alone. small morsels of time -- the late hours of the night, the early mornings, even a stolen second during a walk when she makes a turn she’s not suppose and presses her back against a tree, takes a breath longer than she needs to. is this what it feels like to be a mother?

benjamin came to visit from time to time. he told tales of the ocean and all the far off lands. willa listened to him talk for hours, enraptured. 

when she’s 22 she’s married off to nathaniel sweete. he’s an officer in his majesty’s royal army. she’s barely said two words to him before he’s pressing his lips to hers in front of their families and she thinks she could wants this. it doesn’t have to be an obligation like the rest of her life, she could love him. except she never sees him. he’s gone for weeks at a time and she’s left alone in their home. when he does come back she only sees him at night.

a child never came into the picture and though it saddened willa, nathaniel could barely look at her anymore. his friends wives were carrying their second or third, their mistresses on their first. they try and try again.

she’s 26 now. nathaniel is away. her bleed hasn’t come when it’s due. instead of the happiness she expected, willa’s stomach turns to to stone. years of trying, of tear, of fights -- everything could be fine now, nathaniel wouldn’t look at her with such disdain, they could be a family -- but she knows she can’t do this. a life of serving others, a life doing what others wanted and expected of her, never a moment to herself unless it was stolen. she doesn’t want that for the rest of it. 

she’s never wanted anything before. she doesn’t know how to go about it. but once she realized it; the floodgates are open. there are so many things she’d like to try, places she’d like to go. she wants adventure, danger, romance. to feel alive would be something grand. 

there are so many mothers with their handfuls of children. no one would miss her nor the one she was growing so she brewed some tea, a special tea she had heard in hushed whispers, in dark corners. she doesn’t know if it works. there’s a pain in her stomach, it burns all the way down but she can’t be sure. she doesn’t want to wait around and find out.

she spends the next few months travelling to all the places her brother described. she turns 27 just as the boat pulls into the harbour on nassau. on the island she rents a room in a lodge, it’s small just as she’s accustomed to. her stomach hasn’t swelled in the time past and her bleed has come and gone a couple of times. she can live as she wishes.

v.

wanted connections.

 this will be updated later because i have no brain cells right now but i’m open to plotting of course!

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

You’ll Never Take My Sunshine Away

Characters: Nat, Bucky, Daughter!Reader, Peter, Tony, Pepper (Mentioned), Clint (Mentioned), Bruce (Mentioned)

A/N: This is it. The final chapter to the Little Spider series. once again, thank you to @fictionalabyss for your unending support for this series and me. 

Warnings: FLUFF, Soft Nat, some angst, medical stuff

Nat POV

      After Tony rushed her out of the building and onto the quinjet, Bruce began treating her immediate needs; cleaning and stitching the cut on her leg, resetting her wrist where it had been broken, and starting IV fluids to treat the severe dehydration. She had no idea the bone in her wrist was even broken, the bastards kept her so exhausted and in pain that she didn’t have a clue what was going on most of the time. By the time the rest of us boarded, she was sleeping and stable. I held her in my arms, and I don’t think I let her go until we landed.

      I step out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry off. It’s warm, and I smile knowing Bucky must have stuck it in the dryer after I got in. I look over at the baby monitor on the counter to see she’s still sleeping peacefully, and breathe a sigh of relief. After two weeks, she’s home safe. “You should go rest, moya lyubov’*.” Bucky walks into the bathroom and wraps his arms around me. “Clint told me you’ve barely slept and I can see it in your eyes how truly exhausted you are.” I lay my head on his shoulder. “What if she wakes up and I’m not there?” I can't stand the thought of it. She’s been gone so long and been so scared. I don’t want her to wake up alone. “Bruce said she’s going to be out for a while, Nat. Between the medicines they’ve given her and her body’s need for rest, she could be out for a couple of days.” I nod against him, knowing he’s right. I let Bucky pick me up and carry me to our bed. He lays me down and slides in behind me, caging me in with his arms. All the tension leaves my body and I begin to drift off as he starts humming a song in my ear.

      Bruce is right, she’s out for three days. I’m sitting in the rocking chair in her room, when I hear a small whimper. “Mama?”  My head snaps up to look at her, and I’m met with beautiful ice blue eyes. She looks around a little confused, “Am I dreaming?” I stand and make my way to her. Being careful of her IV and the monitor wires, I crawl in behind her and pull her into my lap. “No, baby, you’re not dreaming. You’re home.” I brush a piece of hair out of her face. She leans against me, smiling. “I missed you, Mama.” I lean down and kiss her forehead, “I missed you too, moye solntse*.” She sits up again, looking confused. “Did I dream it or is Daddy home?” Bucky clears his throat from the doorway, where he’s holding a tray of food. “No, you didn’t. I’m home, baby.” She breaks out into a huge smile, though I’m not sure if its for her father or the chocolate chip pancakes and strawberries, he’s holding.

                                                 Six Months Later

      “Mama!” Y/N shouts from her bedroom. I smile and shake my head, as two little feet coming running into the kitchen. “Good morning to you too, little spider.” She smiles at me, “Good morning, Mama. Is Daddy home yet?” I nod, “Yes, but he’s asleep. He got home really late last night, but he’ll pick you up from school.” Y/N nods and grabs her lunchbox, stuffing it down into her backpack. I set a plate of food  for her on the bar. “Have you got everything ready?” She nods, climbing onto the barstool and digging into her breakfast. There’s a knock on the door, and Peter pokes his head in. “Can I come in?” I smile and wave him in. Why he bothers to knock, I’ll never know. “Have you eaten yet?” Peter drops his backpack by the door, “Yeah, Aunt May made breakfast before she left for work.” He comes over to sit with Y/N, ruffling her hair. “Are you ready for first grade, squirt?” After the whole Niko ordeal, we homeschooled her for the remainder of Kindergarten to let her recover and heal both physically and mentally. She gives Peter a big grin, “Super excited! Nathaniel and I both have Ms. Calloway! She’s supposed to be really nice.” She pushes her plate away and hops down. “I’m done, Mama! Let's go, Uncle Peter.” Y/N runs around the bar to give me a hug, and then she grabs her bag and drags Peter out the door. 

Y/N POV

       The bell rings and Ms. Calloway lets us leave. I walk with Nathaniel to the place where all the parents wait. He spots Aunt Laura and runs to her. She waves at me, before picking him to walk to the middle school to get Lila and Cooper. I look around for Daddy, spotting him leaning up against a tree. I run to him and launch myself into his arms. “Hey, sunshine! How was your first day?” He spins me around, before putting me up on his shoulders.”It was great! The boys all thought the scar on my leg was super cool and makes me tough.” Daddy laughs and shakes his head. “Well, super cool and tough little spider,” he suddenly clears his throat and covers his left eye, “Are you ready to accept your mission?” I laugh at Daddy’s impression of Uncle Nick. “Yes sir, ready for mission instructions.” I salute him, giggling. “We have to infiltrate a jewelry store to find the perfect ring for a spy, then we must sneak said ring into the apartment past her. At tonight’s party, we’ll ambush her. Are you up for the task, Mini-Agent?” “Sir, yes sir!”

      We get off the elevator, making our way into The ballroom for the party. I gasp at all the decorations: rainbow streamers, unicorns, and glittery everything. “Hey, sunshine! What do you think?” Uncle Tony holds his arms out, gesturing to the ballroom. I barely give him time to catch me as jump on him. “I love it! It’s perfect!” He hugs me tight, kissing my cheek. “Well, you only turn 7 once!” We decided to celebrate my birthday a few days late, when Daddy got back from his mission in Africa. Uncle Tony whispers in my ear, “Was your mission successful?” I giggle, whispering back, “Phase one is complete.” He nods and sets me back on the ground. “Let's go see your cake! Aunt Pepper had it ordered from your favorite bakery.” 

Nat POV

      I watch Y/N run around the ballroom laughing and smiling. I am so happy she’s enjoying her birthday party. All of her favorite things decorate the room, and her favorite people in the world fill it. Tony stands on stage and leads everyone in singing Happy Birthday. As the song dies down, Bucky walks up and takes the mic. “I think we can agree when I say, we are all so very grateful that we get to celebrate our girl tonight.” Everyone raises their glasses to that, “But there’s another thing I want to do tonight. Mini-Agent, begin phase two of your mission.” There’s a round of giggling as Peter and Y/N drop down in front of me, startling me a bit. “Ma’am, you’re needed on the stage.” Y/N giggles, as she tries to make a serious face. I salute her, “Yes, ma’am.” Peter places her on the ground and she grabs my hand, leading me up onto the stage where Bucky stands. He holds out his hand to me. I take it, smiling. What have they been up to? “Nat, you are the most incredible woman I have ever met. An amazing mother to our daughter, a loving partner to me, and one of the most brilliant and deadly assassins. I could never see myself spending the rest of my days with anyone else, nor would I want to. I love you with every fiber of my being. Will you marry me?” He gets on his knee, as Y/N hands him a little velvet box. Tears fill my eyes and I nod, “Yes, Yes!” He slips the ring, a simple black band with a ruby in the center that’s surrounded by small diamonds, onto my finger. The rooms erupts into cheers and whistles. Bucky stands, kissing me. 

      We both tuck Y/N into bed that night. Bucky finishes reading her a story, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. Her eyes are near closed. “Mama?” She yawns. “Yes, baby?” I brush a piece of hair out of her face and smile. “Will you sing to me?” I nod, “Of course, baby. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. You’ll never take my sunshine away.” Bucky smiles at the change of words. By the time I finish the song, she’s asleep. We sneak out of the room, and after gently closing the door, Bucky pulls me close. I sigh contentedly knowing that at least for tonight, the skies aren’t grey and the loves of my life are home safe and sound. 

* moya lyubov’ - My love

* moye solntse - My sunshine

Tags: @katsen13, @fictionalabyss

[deborahkaya]

Metanoia, radical change, rearrange

From self-loathing to self-loving

Out of the wreckage, with new direction

Abandon the path of self-destruction

Transforming, transform from a no to a yes

Transforming, transform from your worst to your best

Metanoia, metanoia

The following preview is of chapter IV of TIMELESS KEEPERS, the newly published third volume of our quantum fiction/magic realism quintet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.

https://www.amazon.com/Timeless-Keepers-Tammabukku-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B07YRTNCJ7/

Mitchell can’t wait to see Serge, so after lunch, we head to the pasture. On the way, we run into Cory, with whom Mitchell forged a friendship. “You don’t look like the same guy I met a year-and-a-half ago!” Cory says, giving Mitchell a pat on the back. “I sure hope you’ll be hanging around a while.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Mitchell replies, “but I have personal things to take care of back in Australia.”

Cory nods, knowing he’s alluding to Naiyana. “I see good things ahead, Mitch. I think the bad stuff’s behind you.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Cory. Bad behavior is behind me if I make that choice, and I have. After decades in the monkey-house, I’m where I belong.”

Yasmin is nursing Serge by the fence when we reach the pasture. “What a beauty!” Mitchell declares. “He looks like both of his parents. Raketa sure has good taste in mares!” His eyes then scan the expanse of the pasture. “I don’t remember that chestnut horse.”

“That’s Jericho’s horse, Otis, a Cleveland Bay. An older Cleveland mare will be coming next month so Gran can go riding with Jericho.”

“Your grandmother and Jericho live in the new cottage out back, right?”

I nod. “I’ll introduce you to them in a bit. Wait until you see the large pond we put in.”

“I can’t wait to see it! So how’s Tom? Is he still with Melanie?”

“No, but the relationship lasted longer than I thought it would. Tom’s in love with his best friend, but neither of them is ready for it. You remember Abigail, don’t you?”

“Who could forget her? Nice girl, and very pretty, too. She’s the great-granddaughter of Nathaniel’s best friend.”

“Ambrose de Ripariis.”

“Ambrose... That face of his is hard to forget. Abigail looks a little like him. How was Tom’s first year at the University of Bath?”

“He’s majoring in psychology with the intention of specializing in parapsychology.”

“Parapsychology will certainly come in handy at Beak’s End.”

I fake chagrin. “Are you implying that we have ghosts?”

He laughs. “Beak’s End is loaded with them, but I must say they’ve all been hospitable to me. And some of them went over and above the call of duty. Speaking of Nathaniel, have you seen him lately?”

“Not lately, but we saw a lot of him last November during the ‘Mrs. Graeber’ nightmare.”

“So what happened with old iron Graeber?”

“She was a fraud, a liar and a thief, and those were her better qualities. Nothing she told us was true. Her name wasn’t even Brenda Graeber, it was Elestren, and her references turned out to be fakes. She was supposed to be a girlhood friend of Angela Sykes, but Elestren was using the identity and image of the real Brenda Graeber who died in a car crash in 1997.”

“Get the fuck outta here!” Mitchell cries. “How the hell was Angela fooled?”

“Elestren is very powerful and it had been decades since Brenda and Angela saw each other. Angela thought her fun-loving friend had changed dramatically since her younger days. Lia and I were not fond of her, but we kept her because she was a great housekeeper. She was fired for devising a nefarious plot to get Lia and me out of Beak’s End and take control. Martin told us many of the details.”

“Holy goddamn shit! I knew she was a bitch but I had no idea she was that wicked. And she had the audacity to make me feel like dirt because of my frigging problems! It’s a good thing I was in jail when all this was going on otherwise assault would be added to my charges. When it comes to you and Lia, all bets are off. Get rid of you and Lia and control Beak’s End? Did she really think she’d get away with such a scheme, and that Gerald and Theresa would just sit around and let it happen?"

“Elestren has a dark power, that’s for sure. Nathaniel’s spirit sensed trouble and returned. Lia and I were trapped in 1901, but when we came back we confronted her with Nathaniel. Of course, she played the victim. If they gave Oscars for such performances, she’d be a shoo-in. Before storming off the property she put a curse on me using a good luck keychain given to me by my friend Ffion. Don’t worry, the most powerful protection ritual was done, and that protection extends to every one of us and the entire estate.”

“Fuck!” he exclaims. “Nathaniel doesn’t miss a thing, does he?”

“No, and we’re eternally grateful. Let it suffice to say that Nathaniel is not fond of Elestren. They’ve locked horns in the past, and she lost that time as well.”

Mitchell laughs. “Nathaniel Ley is one guy whose shit list you sure as hell don’t want to be on.”

“Tell me about it! I was on that list when I first moved into the farmhouse in 2012. Let’s just say it wasn’t an easy period for me.”

“The man who helped me to see my own truth has a great heart, but I can feel that other side when I look at his pictures.” Not wanting to go any further, he changes the subject. “So how are you, David? I can see there’s something troubling you."

“It’s connected to my career. Some people are trying to tarnish my name and destroy my reputation.”

“I remember you telling me about that hot singer who looks like Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. I forgot her name.”

I have to laugh at the Elvira description. “Cressida Holdsworth is one of the biggest thorns in my side. For some reason, she’s obsessed with me, and no matter how much I reject her, she won’t take no for an answer.”

“You got one helluva great woman—you don’t need Elvira.”

“I keep trying to get that message into Cressida’s thick head.”

“Don’t let it get to you, David. I may not be as good at this psychic business as you and Lia, but I know you’ll come out of this alright.”

“I appreciate that, Mitchell. Three weeks ago, I was in such a state that I blew a Rolling Stone cover story interview and briefly considered canceling the second half of Oblivion’s world tour. I was ashamed of myself for even thinking about it. Many people had already bought their tickets.”

“What happened with Rolling Stone?”

“Let it suffice to say that I was not myself. A few days later, I apologized to the journalist, explaining that I was cracking under the pressure. He understood, knowing I was having a meltdown, and told me that when he left that day he was very concerned. We finished the interview the following week and had some good laughs. It was cool of him to keep what happened, between us. The interview comes out next month. It’s my first solo cover.”

“I’m grabbing a copy as soon as it hits the newsstands.”

Raketa runs over to the fence, looking hard at Mitchell. “Seems like he remembers you.”

Mitchell stretches his arm out. Raketa moves closer but hesitates. “He’s warming up a bit. Last year, he wouldn’t let me anywhere near him.”

“He is the alpha stallion in the stable and he’s still wild, but he’s working out some of his trust issues.”

Mitchell guffaws. “I can relate to that. So what do you say we saddle up the horses and go for a ride?”

[grxywxrn]

Alive part two

Nathaniel sat on his and Nico’s couch as they watch a match of Exy on the TV.

“Watch this!” Nico pointed at Andrew in goal. The ball was just about to get in, but Andrew twisted his body and caught it. He threw it down court into Kevin’s racket with such force someone on the other team dodged out the way.

Nathaniel il could imagine the muscles in his shoulders flexing as he flung the ball down court. Yep, he was not ace like he previously thought.

The game finished, Andrew’s teams favour. Nathaniel didn’t actually know any of the teams, there was just Andrew’s team and every other team.

“Can we watch a Fox game?” Nathaniel asked. Nico happily put on a match, Foxes vs Catamounts.

It was impressive, it really was. Neil Josten was amazing and faster than anybody else on that court. Number 8 getting in a fight was funny because Nathaniel knew he wasn’t the type to throw a punch. He didn’t know how he knew, it was like a feeling.

Andrew shut down the goal and the Catamounts didn’t stand a chance.

When Nathaniel watched this game, it felt like he had been there before. Almost like he had played this game.

The Foxes won something to something and everyone went crazy. Josten was jumped on by number 8, but he was watching Andrew in goal.

The way he watch Neil made it painstakingly obvious of his feelings. Nathaniel didn’t understand how the public didn’t know anything about their relationship.

Andrew didn’t look different today that he did in this footage, just with more stubble and muscles.

Nico has gone into the kitchen to start on dinner so Nathaniel was left in the lounge room alone. He couldn’t find the remote so the next video to play couldn’t be shut off.

“It is speculated that Andrew Minyard has been secretly dating a mystery man.” The lady on the TV was say. “He was seen in a Berlin shopping centre heading to a coffee shop with an unknown green haired man. When the press caught up with them, Minyard began leaving with his hand on the mans back, whispering into his ear.”

The lady was around Nathaniel’s age and was wearing a blue jersey with the number 5 on it with the name Minyard.

“Later, Minyard would punch a reporter for asking, quote, ‘How would Neil feel knowing you are moving on?’ This has lead fans to believe that Josten and Minyard were involved in an intimate relationship before Jostens kidnapping and death.”

A photo of Andrew and Nathaniel came up on screen. It was taken from behind so Nathaniel could see Andrew gripping his shirt.

Nathaniel turned off the TV as Nico came back in to the lounge room holding a bowl of tortilla chips.

“Wanna go get tattoos?” Nathaniel asked randomly.

“Did you remember something?” Nico asked. Neil only got tattoos of things he remembered. The doctors said he probably would remember anything but sometimes Nathaniel got flashes of a memory.

“Keys, something about keys.” Nathaniel replied. Nico sent a questioning gaze to him. Nathaniel tried to remember more. “Someone gave me keys to something.”

“Weren’t you found with a set of keys?” Nico asked. Nathaniel couldn’t remember, he just has a set of keys in his draw that he didn’t remember having.

Nathaniel went to find them, it took a bit of shuffling around, but right in the back of his desk were keys.

Nathaniel knew them, knew of them anyways. He knew the dips and the teeth of them by heart.

He walked out and threw the keys onto Nico’s lap.

“Wow, now try to remember who gave them to you.” Nathaniel closed his eyes, the smell of cigarette smoke and whiskey wrapping around him like a blanket. He remembered the feeling of anxiety in his chest. No, that wasn’t anxiety, it was shock. He remembered fingers digging into the hollow of his neck, the collar of his shirt being tugged. Nathaniel flicked through the keys, tracing the teeth until he found the one that matched the memory.

“This one.” Nathaniel opened his eyes, Nico was about to ask what it did but Nathaniel interrupted. “Someone...died, I think, and a different person gave me a key to...the...car- house it was a house.”

“Nathan, buddy, I think you dated someone before what happened.” Nico said. Nathaniel laughed.

“Yeah right.”

Right then, Nathaniel’s phone started ringing. He put it to his ear, not checking the caller ID.

“Hello, is this Nathaniel Wesninski?” A sweet voice said on the other end of the line.

“Yes, who is this?” Nathaniel replied.

“My name is Renee Walker, a friend of Andrew’s.”

“Is everything alright?” Nathaniel asked, worried. Nico look concerned from the couch.

“There’s been a bit of an accident, and I didn’t want you to find out over the media.” Renee said.

“What do you mean accident?” Nathaniel gripped the keys in his hand.

“I am sure you know about him and Neil, correct?” Nathaniel grunted. “Well, around this time of year Andrew gets...self destructive, more than usual. I thought it was over so I let him be.” Renee started sniffing. “Andrew went out to the bar at Columbia, someone gave him something with his drink. He was driving back to New York, drunk and high and still going. He took something else, I know he’d never tried it before, he overdosed while driving.”

Nathaniel didn’t speak, he didn’t breathe, he couldn’t see.

“Is he going to live?” Nathaniel murmured. Nico was up off his seat, in front of Nathaniel as fast as he could. “Is Andrew going to make it?”

Nico gasped.

“I-“ Renee choked. “They won’t tell me anything. They said they would only tell family. Andrew doesn’t have family!”

“Aaron?”

“They aren’t on speaking terms.”

“Nicky?”

“Stuck in Germany.”

“I’m coming.” Nathaniel said before hanging up. “I’m going to America.” He said to Nico.

“What happened?”

“Overdosed.” Nathaniel ran into his room, grabbed a bag, a shirt and pants, his laptop and shoes.

“Nathaniel, calm down.” Nico yelled. “You aren’t going to get a flight in such sort notice.”

“Well have you got any better ideas?”

“My dad owns a jet, remember?”

“Screw you and let’s go.”

All they had had to say to Nico’s insanely rich father was, “Nathaniel’s boyfriend is going to die!” And they were in the air.

When they plane took off Nathaniel got hit with another memory.

“You weren’t lying when you said you were afraid of heights.”

He was looking out over planes through a glass panel. Andrew was standing next to him.

Then it was gone, and he was back on the jet and going to New York.

Nathaniel had always wanted to go to New York, but he didn’t have time to sight see. He didn’t even remember getting to the hospital.

“Andrew Minyard!” He called to the lady at the front desk.

“How are you related?” The nurse asked.

“Husband.” Nathaniel claimed. A girl with a cross around her neck and white and rainbow hair gripped his arm.

“I told you he was coming from Germany, ma’am.” She said. This was Renee, Nathaniel knew it instantly.

“You aren’t here.” The nurse said, pointing at the computer. “Mr Minyard isn’t married.”

“He is! Please, at least tell me if he’s alright!” Nathaniel pleaded.

“You aren’t Familly-“ The nurse started but cut herself off when she looked behind Nathaniel.

Nathaniel turned to see Andrew falling against the wall, blood running down his arm from where he ripped the IV out.

“N-N-“ Andrew was trying to say something, reaching an unstable hand to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel ran forward and caught Andrew as he fell.

“Andrew, Andrew.” Nathaniel held him. “I’m your husband, just go along with it.” He whispered into Andrew’s ear. Andrew buried his face into Nathaniel shoulder, trying to speak but there was no sound. “Shh, shh.”

It took four nurses to get Andrew back to his bed. Nathaniel was allowed in, so was Renee and Nico. Kevin came later, saying that Aaron was in the waiting room.

When Kevin had seen Nathaniel, he gasped. He looked like he had seen a ghost. Renee had said his name very sternly and left to talk to Aaron.

“The other person in the car was killed.” Kevin said. Nathaniel didn’t even know there was another person. “I don’t know the guy, he was older and definitely the guy who drugged Andrew.”

Nathaniel flinched.

“First Drake and then this guy.” Kevin mumbled.

Drake.

Nathaniel saw blood and an Exy racket. He saw Andrew laughing and bleeding. He was scars and a body.

Andrew turned over in his bed, just slightly so it was easier to see Nathaniel.

“Screw you Josten.” Andrew said to Nathaniel.

“Andrew, I’m not-“ Nathaniel stopped, because for once he couldn’t be sure of who he was. He had all these memories that had Andrew in them, but he had only met Andrew a month and a half ago.

Five months later and he was still in the US. He was staying with Andrew in Andrew’s apartment and he never wanted to leave. This place had an arcade, indoor swimming pool, ice cream stand and a destruction room. The TV on the fourth floor was the size of a movie screen and the popcorn bar was heavenly.

“Why do you ever leave your house?” Nathaniel had asked.

“Because I have the worst job with the worst co-workers.” Andrew replied.

Nathaniel was still stuck on whether to ask about his memories. There were moments when the words almost tumbled out of him, “did we know each other before?” Like when they were watching the lion king because neither of them could sleep. Or when Nathaniel was dyeing Andrew’s hair dusty purple to match his.

However, it was the high level of alcohol in his system that brought out the words.

Andrew wasn’t allowed to drink yet because he was still a bit weak from his overdose, but it was late at night and Nathaniel needed something.

“You’re a mess.” Andrew said.

Nathaniel was upside down on the couch. “Being drunk helps me remember.”

“Remember what?” Andrew took a seat next to Nathaniel.

“Anything!” Nathaniel sighed, exhausted. “Good or bad, really I just want to know something.” He sat up properly, looking at Andrew like a sad puppy. “Or you could tell me.”

Andrew’s shoulders tensed. “That’s impossible.”

Nathaniel shook his head, frustrated. Why does nobody understand. “No! I have all these memories of you, Kevin too! Even Renee! You were part of my old life, I know it!”

“You’re drunk-“

“You are afraid of heights and planes, I remember the planes. Drake and a club. A bus! I have all these little things I remember- keys, the keys!” Nathaniel jumped up and raced to his duffle bag from the bench. He dug out the keys and showed them to Andrew. “See! This one opens a house.” He showed the key to Andrew.

His face was blank but his shoulders were bunched. Andrew didn’t say anything for the longest time. He got up off the couch and headed for the door.

“Sober up.” He said.

“What happened to only wanting to kill me 90% of the time?” Andrew stopped dead in his tracks.

“You already died.” It sounded like Andrew chose his words carful but at the same time, like he didn’t mean to say them.

The next week Nathaniel was going along like that conversation a had never happened. He was pretty sure now that Andrew knew something he didn’t. Everyone did. Kevin always watched him suspiciously and conversations seemed to die when Nathaniel entered a room.

Nathaniel had to pick up Andrew from practice when Kevin wanted to stay longer. Kevin had given Andrew a ride there so Nathaniel had to use his car. That was another one of the keys. Why he had keys to Andrew’s car, he didn’t know.

When Andrew got into the car he grabbed the front of Nathaniel’s shirt and brought his face to his. Nathaniel’s breath hitches and he closed his eyes, subconsciously waiting for Andrew to do something.

Instead, he mumbled, “Take me to get ice cream.” Nathaniel was pushed back into the drivers side door.

Nathaniel had a feeling Kevin was watching so he did a few rings in the parking lot before heading in the way of the ice cream shop.

“Who taught you to drive?” Andrew asked.

“I don’t know. I just got in a car one day and the next thing I knew I was in Germany.” Nathaniel shrugged.

“You ran.” Andrew didn’t ask it like a question.

“It felt right, I don’t know, okay Andrew.” Nathaniel gripped the stirring wheel harder and turned a sharp right. “I don’t know anything about myself so leave it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Nathaniel parked across three spaces and got out with a slam of the door. He rounded the car and knocked on Andrew’s window. Andrew rolled down the window, looking at Nathaniel with a bored look.

“Stay here, I’ll get your order.” When Neil returned he had an espresso and vanilla for himself and a rainbow flavour and a caramel/chocolate/honey comb thing for Andrew.

Before he gave it to Andrew, Nathaniel licked his ice cream with his eyes locked with Andrew’s.

He handed it over and Andrew contemplated it. “Now it’s contaminated.” Andrew sounded grossed out but by the shift in his body tension Nathaniel knew his joke was more than that to Andrew.

Nathaniel licked his lips and hummed. He hated how sweet the taste on his tongue was but, shh.

“That’s good.” Nathaniel said.

“Unlike you.” Andrew snapped. “Just start driving.”

Nathaniel started driving to the public Exy court. Once Andrew realised, he groaned.

“I need you to help me practice.” Nathaniel told him when they stopped. “I was hoping you could help me with my stance.”

Andrew left the car angry.

The only armour they had was Andrew’s and he felt he didn’t need it so they went in unprotected.

Mid-practice Nathaniel’s phone started ringing with a picture of Nico’s face piping up on his phone screen.

“Hey, Nico.” Nathaniel puffed.

Andrew rolled his eyes, retuning to rebounding and catching the ball off the wall.

“Don’t, ‘Hey Nico’ me!” He yelled. “Look, bro, I get it, your boyfriend almost died but you still have friends back in Germany. Or did you forget?”

“Hey, Nico, calm down.” Nathaniel told him.

“No, we’ve heard nothing from you in four months! Laura is so worried you forget about us to go hang with your famous new friends.” Nico didn’t let Nathaniel interrupt. “Are you coming back to Germany, Nathaniel?”

“Nico.” Nathaniel didn’t add onto the name. He didn’t know what to say. He had forgotten about Nico and Laura. “I-“

“Are You coming back to Germany? Yes or no?” Nico demanded.

“Yes or no, Neil Josten?” Andrew hovered over him, eyes glazed. He said Neil’s name but his eyes locked on Nathaniel’s and they weren’t letting go.

“It’s always yes with you, remember?” Nathaniel had replied. Then they were kissing.

Nathaniel understood now. He understood everything.

“Nico, I’ll call you back to arrange flights.” Nathaniel hung up. His phone cracked when it hit the floor. Nathaniel left it there. “Andrew.” He said.

Andrew ignored him.

“Andrew!” He picked up a ball and through it at Andrew’s head, it just missed.

“What?” Andrew growled. He turned around and Nathaniel remembered every time he had looked up at Andrew.

“It’s always yes with you.” Nathaniel said just loud enough for Andrew to hear. Andrew’s shoulders tensed and the racket clatter to the floor.

Andrew’s black shirt cling to his body with sweat, the rise and fall of his chest more evident.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nathaniel asked. “Why?”

“Nathaniel-“

“Neil. I’m Neil Josten, aren’t I?” Nathaniel demanded. His head was spinning, he could hear his heart racing in his ears, blood almost drowning out Andrew’s voice.

“Neil.” That one word held so much pain in it. Too much for one person to feel, to keep inside for seven years. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Nathaniel remembered saying, knowing that that would be the last time he would see Andrew. “You were amazing.”

Neil Josten’s coming back from the dead stunt had shocked the whole world, Exy fans and others alike. Even ten years after disappearing people could not stop asking him.

Now he was back playing with Andrew and Kevin. They had won gold at the Olympics last year and they were back as the golden trio of Exy.

Andrew and Neil have been out since that game when Neil took Andrew by the collar and kissed him to the roar of the crowd behind them.

Nico had been at the engagement party with Laura by his side. Nicky let his daughters meet their uncle and Aaron texted Andrew for the first time in years.

Everything was going great.

Until Neil woke up with his pulse souring and sweating. His father grinned at him, clever glinting his cold death in his hand.

“Nathaniel, my greatest disappointment.” His voice rung out in Neil’s head.

Help me, help me, help me!

He gasped, a sound like Andrew’s name.

Andrew flinched awake. Neil grasped for him, needing something to keep him today and not then.

Andrew didn’t push Neil’s hands away when they touched his skin.

“Something from the road?” Andrew asked. Neil had had nightmares from when he was on the run with his mother.

“No- my father-“ Andrew rolled over so they were facing each other. He put Neil’s hand over his heart and his other hand tight in Neil’s white hair, tugging. “When they took me-he-Lola-“

Andrew tightened his grip in Neil’s hair. Neil breathed, thinking over the words he wanted to say.

“They hurt me.” Neil felt stupid for saying something so obvious. “They hurt me and all I could think about was coming home...to you.”

Neil slowly moved his hand from Andrew’s strong chest to his jaw, stubble grazing his palm.

“And you did come home.” Andrew told him. “You’re right here, in our apartment with our Olympic’s trophy right over there and big bed to share with just me.”

Neil let out a shaky breath. That was the closest thing to an ‘I love you’ as the two could get.

Neil lifted his and Andrew’s interlocked hands so his could admire the gold bands around their fingers.

Everything was going perfect.

It was Sunday morning and Kevin was texting them to meet him for practice. He was ignored.

Andrew rolled them over so he was looking down on Neil. He leant down, kissing the burn mark on Neil’s cheek like it would go away. He made his way down Neil’s body until head got to his chest.

“Yes or no?” Andrew said into Neil’s collar bone.

“Yes.” Neil replied.

Andrew lowered himself down until there was no space between them and Neil’s hear beat was evening out under his ear.

Then Sir jumped onto Neil’s face, King following by curling up on Andrew’s back.

Kk, this is done. I didn’t try on writing this alright so it is bad. At the end I just wanted to wrap it up so it’s rushed. There isn’t any detail and it’s super quick but whatever, I had an idea and I was to lazy to expand on it. Thanks for reading though.

Part one

[minyavd]

The Foxhole Court Fic Rec IV Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V A ★ indicates fics I would reread every day if I had no life

Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Baltimore Blues by SpangleBangle He saw the duffel. It was battered all to hell and the strap was nearly torn from the bag, but it still glowed almost neon in the darkening night and streetlamp glare. Neil would never… He dropped to his knees beside it and rifled through it, looking for any sign, any clue as to where Neil might have run. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Until his fingers found the keyring. Until he found the phone.Andrew's perspective on the Binghamton riot and the walking tragedy that is Neil Josten.

Those That Broke Us by WriteThroughTheNight "Neil doesn't talk about his mom and doesn't think about what she'd do to him if she saw him now. He has a family, he has Exy, and he has Andrew. He has more than enough, more than he ever could have dreamed of.Neil doesn't talk about his mom until a warm fall day outside the locker room, waiting for the start of their game with his team and family. It's a place that she doesn't belong, where not even a memory of her belongs, but she wriggles her way in and takes root in his chest." Or Neil reveals, piece by piece, what life with his mom was like.

Alternate Universe

A Castle of Curses by Greenninjagal (WIP) Neil didn't mean to be found dying in the middle of the forest. He didn't mean to be saved by a couple mysterious voices. He definitely didn't mean to wake up in a castle.After a lifetime of run, run, running and lie, lie, lying Neil has no problem preparing to leave again. But upon waking up in a the rundown castle in the middle of nowhere, and no understanding of anything other than the people in it are extremely weird and hey-- wasn't that statue in another room before??-- Neil finds himself in a predicament he's never had to face before.Neil didn't mean to stay. And he most certainly didn't mean to wake the dragon.

★ call me in the afternoon by Jaylocked Neil had literally been tortured on several occasions, and that was still better than this. (written for the prompt: "andrew and neil meet in a group therapy")

Connection through Pain by sacchan Nathaniel was six years old, and he was in pain. His body ached, but the one actually in pain was his soulmate. Their connection started when he was born, but he noticed its existence only now, and the reminder was very cruel. From now on, Nathaniel would experience the pain and the nightmares of this other person, as they would do the same with his. Till one of them died.

★ Doe & Josten: Deductionists by SpangleBangle (WIP) Andrew Doe, rude but brilliant consulting detective, thought he had no need of a partner as he worked slowly away at dismantling the largest crime family in the country, helping out with other cases on the side to relieve the tedium. That was, until a scruffy runaway with a stupid amount of secrets stumbled into his life. Or, more accurately, broke into his kitchen.

★ Eyes Half Closed by constellationqueen (WIP) The A/B/O au that LITERALLY no one asked for. Sorry not sorry.Neil was promised to Riko when they were little, but Neil has no intention of being taken by that asshole. IDEK LEAVE ME ALONE

Like a River by Moonix (WIP)  Andrew was a statistical anomaly. He was both a Seer and a Squib, an unfortunate combination of genetic traits that still somehow got him into Hogwarts. He had both hands full babysitting Kevin Day, resident Quidditch prodigy, after the drama with Riko Moriyama in fifth year, and making sure his brother finished his last year of education after the death of their mother. What he did not need was another stray to take in – Neil Hatford, formerly Nathaniel Wesninski, prominent guest in Andrew's prophetic dreams with his blue, blue eyes and death omens flocking to him wherever he went. What he needed even less was to start pretending they were in a relationship, but then, Andrew never had been very interested in doing what was good for him.

My Way Home... by ionlyloveyouironically (WIP)  Two years after they run, Mary Hatford decides it's not working.At age 11, Andrew Doe moves into a massive house with his new foster mother, Stella Josten. They make a picture-perfect family: mother, son, and strange boy who lives inside the walls.

No Ordinary Cats by Nekojita  Andrew gets a little more than he bargained for when he rescues a tattered cat from some drunken idiots at work one night.

Nolite te Bastardes Carborundorum by redFreckles (WIP)  It's probably Stockholm syndrome. It was only a matter of time, Nathaniel supposes. Years of violence of all sorts finally catching up to him, these four walls finally collapsing around him, Neil's firm resolve to not be broken slipping out from underneath Nathaniel's uncertainty and folding in on it's own shattered surface.Nathaniel hates Neil, sometimes, for what he means, what he represents. A hope long lost in the hands of his father as he sold him to the devil.Or in which Neil is sold, but not to the Moriyama's.

ode to sleep by jaylocked  Andrew’s barely even noticing his surroundings by the time he walks through the automatic doors, more ready for a Slurpee than he’s ever been in his whole life, but the sight of an attractive man effectively disarming and disabling a guy with a gun gets his attention pretty quickly.(written for the prompt: "Ok, so what if neil & andrew meet in a 7-11 where they both go when they can't sleep at night bc both of them are insomniacs + they're always half asleep so it takes them a while to notice each other.")

Pressure Points by puddlejumper99 (WIP)  Neil enrolls at Columbia High School and remarkably fails at remaining invisibleI've had to fuck with the timeline a bit to make it work in my mind? But most of the canon backstory is intact. Just shuffled about a littleHope you like it! I've never wrote much fanfic before these dumb exy boys completely consumed my life but i cant get them out of my head so here we are.

Right Here in the Light by OrdinaryVegan  A few members of the domestic Andreil household find themselves awake in the middle of the night. In other words, Andrew Minyard is the best father in the universe, and no one will convince me otherwise.

She was Found by OrdinaryVegan AKA Piper: The Prequel

★ Something Sweet by horrorinabakset (WIP)  Neil's mother dies when he is fifteen. As a result, Neil ends up in Columbia, at a diner called Sweetie's. There he encounters a rather strange family, a boy raising his twin cousins.

staff recommendation by flybbfly Andrew works at a bookstore. Neil stumbles in during a bad storm.

Taking in Strays by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot) Neil picks up a stray. He and Andrew get a little attached.

The Definition of Overkill by WriteThroughTheNight Neil and Andrew are neighbors and spiders that big should be illegal.

★ to know a man by moonix  In which the Foxes all work at a coffee shop run by Wymack, Neil is their newest recruit with a dark past, Andrew is obvious, Neil is oblivious, and everyone ships it apart from Aaron, who just wants to study in peace. With guest appearance by a stuffed jellyfish called Josephine.

Watermark by fairietailed (JereJean) He hops into the kitchen on one foot, catching his mother before she carries the bowl of peas she’s holding into the dining room.“Jeremy?” Her eyebrows pull together in concern at the look on his face. “What is it?”“I don’t know,” he says, sticking out his foot. “I think it’s my soul mate?”--In which bruises and scars from your soulmate appear on your skin, and Jeremy's skin is a myriad of colored stains.

★ we’re kings of the killing by OneSweetMelody (WIP) When Nathaniel Wesninski enters the Baltimore FBI field office, he comes out as Neil Josten and owes more than than a few favors FBI if he doesn't want to be slammed with a host of charges. With no choice but to work as an FBI agent to pay off his dues, Neil is assigned to a field office in Columbia, South Carolina. However, it only takes a few weeks for Neil's past start catching up with him and for him to start wondering if he's really all that safe in Columbia

Raven!Neil

dangerous and disquieting by feuchsli (WIP)  In which Mary's first attempt at stealing her son away has failed and she only succeeds five years later. But the damage is done and the lack of running-experience leads to Nathan catching up with them. What we see here is the aftermath of that and the hell that is Nathaniel Wesninski's life—at least up to the point when he meets the Foxes and slowly becomes another person under the name of Neil Josten.

Dare You To by quexnk (goldveines) (WIP) Nathaniel's place is at Riko's side, the hidden and elusive number three to Riko's perfect court. His identity is kept secret due to his father's history, but the three on his cheek tells the truth: some things can't be hidden - such as Nathaniel's inclination to his father's personality. Nathaniel isn't interested in being loyal to Riko, he's interested in playing Exy; and his methods aren't always to Riko or his partner, Jean's, benefit. He'll push both his own limits and those around him to play.

★ This is What Hollows by constellationqueen (WIP) (Rewritten) A month after Kevin runs from the Ravens, Nathaniel Wesninski is sent to the Foxes as a message from Riko.

Fluff

Ache in my Bones, Ache in my Heart by imagined_melody Andrew and Neil both find wintertime difficult to weather (pun intended). They take care of each other.

my heart is glowing fluorescent by dizzyondreams Neil woke briefly, shallow wakefulness, that dreamy, half-sleep where he barely opened his eyes. He could hear soft talking from somewhere behind him, could smell cigarettes and boy sweat and laundry detergent, an oddly familiar smell, and before he could really take anything in he was asleep again.

[minycrdjcsten-blog]

How about a prompt where the foxes are all out and about and neil runs into someone from his past? Like maybe not necessarily a stranger he met along the way under an alias but someone that knew who he was and helped him and his mother while they were on the run? And I dunno the foxes and Andrews and Neil's reactions or somethin??

okay so this is loosely based on a personal experience, where i ran into a cousin (i’m latinx ive like 60 cousins) and she sorta made a joke and i stared at her for like an entire minute w/o even saying hi, and then just kept walking like nothing had happened. five months or so later she asked me wtf was up w me lmao. it was lit bc i was dissociating and i was confused af lmao.

no link to ao3 bc this is just rly?? mm? vague and a quick drabble? hope u like it tho, im slowly trying to get back on track tbh

“Nathaniel” Neil hears somewhere near him. He tells himself it’s not for him, people know that’s not his name, they know that name doesn’t mean anything so he just keeps walking behind Andrew, all quick steps and lowered eyes because it doesn’t matter how little that name’s supposed to mean, Neil hates hearing it.

They’ve been out shopping -yes, all of them together at the same time, more or less- because christmas’ close and presents are mandatory in a decent family, Neil Josten, even if they’re just DIYs.

“Nathaniel!” This time it sounds closer, a little more urgent and Andrew turns around with a quirked eyebrow to look around them and see what the hell is going on.That’s exactly when he feels someone’s hand on his back and instead of getting scared Neil elbows him on the ribs hard. Neil feels like running despite knowing he doesn’t have to worry about any of it anymore. 

When he pronounces the name his mouth tastes like bile, when he hears someone else it’s as if Nathan’s threats are still up when he knows he’s fine. He still hasn’t recovered of that, it hasn’t been long enough to forget.  

The stranger lets out a surprised yelp and then he’s complaining about how good he still is at defending himself. His dark hair and familiar features tell him he’s someone he knows and though before he’d never let himself forget a familiar face now his brain doesn’t want to remind him of that past. He’s supposed to remember his name, that’s all he knows.

“We need to catch up, kid” He says, huffing at the end and staring into Neil’s eyes as if waiting for a response.

Andrew’s holding his elbow, a way to let him know he’s there but also that his elbow’s still there if he wants to keep going. Neil isn’t scared or feeling lost, he’s just really fucking confused.

“His name’s Neil, you should leave” Matt says behind him and Neil doesn’t even know when the foxes stopped walking. He knows the foxes are more or less getting ready to defend him from anyone but Neil can’t even remember the guy’s name so he blinks for a few seconds, trying to remember and then it comes to him.

It makes sense that he can’t remember him because he’s one of the people who helped him and his mother when they were still in America, by the time he was still allowed to act like a kid, by the time he didn’t know he had to be someone else in order to be safe. The name’s impossible to remember, but what’s the point? He’s supposed to leave all of that behind so it doesn’t matter anyway. Blood means shit for someone like him, who’s been betrayed again and again by the people who were supposed to be his family. Family’s something you choose, Neil decided a while ago.

“Now things are a little bit better maybe we can act like a family” He laughs sympathetically at Neil. His expression’s pretty much empty still. He isn’t good at people, never has been, and the moment feels just so awkward he doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to say. People tended to act like they didn’t know what was happening around them when he was a kid, but now he’s got his own life and his father’s finally dead he can’t even think of what he’s supposed to say in such a situation, “You know? Old time’s sake, little cousin”

Neil nods and the guy gives him his number and he doesn’t even pretend he’s making an effort to remember it, though he knows Andrew won’t forget it. He doesn’t want it, he doesn’t want the attention or the pity that comes from the Hatfords every single time. He doesn’t care how proud they might be of him because the Hatfords ruined him too.

Andrew’s grasp becomes a little bit tighter when they both look at each other in silence, as if waiting for Neil’s cousin? to do something, to betray him just one more time, but nothing happens.

“Good to see you’re doing fine” He says and at least Neil’s greatful he didn’t mention his appearance. The awkwardness of the moment doesn’t leave him but he knows it doesn’t matter because it’ll keep happening. He’s had too many lives, he’s been too many people in his lifetime and he’s trying to stick to being Neil Josten which means he won’t allow anyone from Nathaniel’s life in anymore.

Neil’s silent the rest of the day and he knows he might be worrying the foxes a little, but honestly, he’s just really fucking confused at the way people talk to him as if he’s supposed to be comfortable with everything now Nathan’s dead. It doesn’t work like that, at all, but being a part of a criminal family might change people’s perceptions a little bit.

Matt sits with him for lunch and asks him if he’s fine. Neil nods absent mindedly and Matt’s genuinely worried the guy might have triggered a traumatic memory or something but Neil’s just really really fucking trying to remember who the fuck he is. He texts him later expressing his support and love for his best bro. 

It goes like that with almost all of the foxes: Renee tells him he shouldn’t be afraid to talk about his past, he’s supposed to let go of it and maybe seeing his family will help him, it’ll give him closure. Dan tells him he doesn’t owe the Hatfords shit and he shouldn’t worry about people using his old name because it doesn’t mean shit anyway. Allison tells him he should at least have a little more dignity and face people and shit talk them as much as he did the Ravens the entire year. Aaron doesn’t come near him. Kevin tells him he shouldn’t let things like that distract him because he needs to think of how to help the team instead of stupid people who won’t respect him. Nicky smiles at him apologetically, as if telling him he knows he should be saying something but he can’t think of anything anyway so a smile should do. 

Andrew, however, just rolls his eyes at him while Neil looks at the wall in front of his desk.

“Stop thinking about that guy, it’s a waste of time” He says and Neil, again, just blinks at him for a while trying to come up with something to say because it’s been hours and he just sorta forgot how to get out of his head even if it’s because of the dumbest thing ever.

“I didn’t remember people were supposed to have cousins, to be honest” Neil mumbles in response.

[katiecat446]

all the questions

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others thanyou?

Not really, no.

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark areyou?

A solid 1.5?

3. The person you would never want to meet?

My fiance’s ex, probably because I would want to hither.  I saw her once from a distance andthat was bad enough.

4. What is your favorite word?

Anything with a hard “ck” sound in the middle.  Monarchical, for example.

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

I would love to be a cherry blossom tree.

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was thefirst thing you thought?

Yikes.

7. What shirt are you wearing?

An oversized grey one from my university

8. What do you label yourself as?

Uh, I have many labels I guess? Feminist, queer, empathwould probably be 3 of them

9. Bright room or dark room?

Bright room

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Discussing the pros and cons of different forms oflightsaber combat, specifically Forms III (Soresu), IV (Ataru) and V (Shien)with my fiancé Nathaniel (aka @mr-villainous, the asker of these questions)

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

This one (19) or maybe when I was juuuust barely 18.

12. Who told you they loved you last?

Nathaniel

13. Your worst enemy?

My mental health problems, let’s be real.

14. What is your current desktop picture?

A picture of a mountain with starry skies behind it, and mylocked desktop background is a picture of the Coruscant skyline

15. Do you like someone?

I may in fact, like like someone. Enough to marry them, infact

16. The last song you listened to?

Sugar Daddy, Original Broadway Cast, from Hedwig and theAngry Inch

17. You can press a button that will make any one personexplode. Who would you blow up?

Steve Bannon, for sure.

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

MY EX

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it beand what would they have to do?

Not really a fan of answering ~cute questions~ about slaverylmao

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing saidattribute is optional)

…none? The color ofmy eyes maybe?

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would youlook like and what would you do?

I would look like I do now, but more masc I guess? And Iwould probably bask in the glory of not having massive weights on my chest and thereforethe glory of not having back problems.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

I do not. I don’t even have a non-secret talent. I’m not atalented person.

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

I’m afraid of most things. Clowns, spiders, most bugsreally.  OH WAIT. Whales.  Whales and deep ocean terrify me.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwichingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

This isn’t a question, so I all I can say is “nice!”

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

Either my next tattoo (Rebel Alliance symbol boiii) or useit to buy Nathaniel the Horizon Zero Dawn game that he’s been salivating overfor months

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in theworld, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

Back home to Portland so I can see Nathaniel lmao

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetimesupply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says.Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’ssomething you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

Oh shit. Uh, that’s hard. I’d want to choose between Midori,Svedka (Orange Creamsicle Flavor), Khalua, or Kraken Spiced Rum.  Probably Kraken.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may buildyour own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put intoplace?

Official form of economy and government = democraticsocialism

29. What is your favorite expletive?

Fuck, it’s so versatile

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enoughtime to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your lovedones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’regoing to save from that blazing inferno?

Please do not make me choose this is rude.  I’m going to assume that I’m coming home tothe blaze, which means that I will already have my backpack with my laptop andphone on my person.  I’d have to go withmy box of things/letters I’ve received from Nathaniel.

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past.What will it be?

When I told my mom I hated her when I was 8.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being atime-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. Butcheck out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

Is this asking me where I would move to? I would go withCanada, lbr. I know its boring bc I live right next to it, but living in Canada= same relative climate, easier for family to visit me, not an entire lifestyleupheaval, plus universal healthcare!

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to yoursurprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As itturns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in afantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. ofyour choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

I’ve not really experienced death personally yet, except formy paternal grandfather whom I was not close to.  But I think I would say him, because my dadchanged a lot after he passed, and not in many good ways.  If bringing my grandpa back would bring mydad back, I’d like that.

34. What was your last dream about?

Something about Nathaniel and I in the Star Wars universe. Ithink we were having a threesome with “General Kenobi” aged Obi-Wan tbh

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

The asker of this question was lazy and didn’t specifyanything for this question.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

When I was a few weeks old, for massive dehydration.

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

Yes I have

38. What is the color of your socks?

Pink, grey, and purple

39. What type of music do you like?

Indie-pop (The Mowglis, The Wombats), Lo-fi (ElvisDepressedly, Mac DeMarco), Broadway soundtracks, I don’t know what the genre is but female artists that are unapologetic about their sexuality (Melanie Martinez, Lana, Marina and the Diamonds, Nicole Dollanganger) and NineInch Nails as its own untouchable genre.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

Sunrises, I think.

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

Cookies and cream!

42. What football team do you support?

It’s not a question of who I support, its who I don’t.  I refuse to support the Patriots, Steelers,or Saints.

43. Do you have any scars?

Yes, though they’re mainly from self-harm. I have one on theback of my right hand from scratching at it during a panic attack, several onmy left wrist, 2 on my right ankle, and one on my right arm from when I closeda hot oven door on it.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

Who knows!!!1!  I’dlove to continue in academia as a professor. But I’d also love to work in a museum. But I’d also like to work at a university providing student support. ButI’d also like to do community activism and service for underprivileged groups,specifically those that have experienced sexual assault and/or relationshipabuse. So, its up in the air at the moment

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what wouldit be?

My weight. I’d like to be about 30/40 pounds lighter

46. Are you reliable?

Depends on who you ask t b h

47. If you could ask your future self one question, whatwould it be?

What actions do I need to take now to ensure financialstability for myself and the family I am building?

48. Do you hold grudges?

I really try not to, but there are times that I do. They’renot usually petty though. They’re for solid reasons.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the lawsof nature, what new animal would you create?

I would create the Beargle. Half bear, half eagle.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

Someone came into my office and asked if we had a Furry Clubon campus, so.

51. Are you a good liar?

Not really, no

52. How long could you go without talking?

I’ve gone like 4 or 5 days before

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

When I cut my own hair at age 5

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

Of course

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

Lmao no

56. What do you like on your toast?

Just salted butter, sometimes with cinnamon sugar too.

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

Probably a mock up of something event related for work

58. What would be your dream car?

One that doesn’t squeak when it drives like my current one.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in theshower? Explain.

I sing Broadway showtunes in the shower when I’m home alone

60. Do you believe in aliens?

I believe in forms of life that we haven’t yet discovered.

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

When someone shows it to me lmao

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

N, I think. Or C.

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Dragons tbh.

64. What do you think about babies?

Sketchy on ones that belong to other people, really reallywanting my own with Nathaniel

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

Again, Nathaniel was lazy and didn’t specify anything in hisask.

[future-rp]

neo’s main dance, sub vocal 3 & visual 1 hayan

neo:red’s main dance, lead vocal & visual mobius entertainment; choreography, modeling 08 vocal / 00 rap / 12 dance

i. silence is rare in hayan’s home. it hides in the corners of the study when his father sets down the violin, in the comfort of his covers when his mother turns off the light in the childrens’ bedroom, desperately spreads out in the living room while the clock counts down the minutes until all four of its inhabitants return. they’re a bit mismatched, his father a foreign-born orchestra musician who stayed in south korea after his military service, his mother a formally trained dancer whose plans were thwarted by a teenage pregnancy. his half-sister hanui is six years older, moon-faced and armed with the sweet smile his mother passed on to both of them; a smile to soften hearts and pave the way. “it’s a weapon,” hanui would tell him many years later with a wink. “so use it wisely.”

he is pretty and he knows it. he can’t walk past his mother and her friends having tea in the living room without one of them calling him over, poking his cheeks, fawning over what an adorable child he is. “smile for them, hayanie,” his mother encourages him and so he does, basking in the attention and adoration. his father’s colleagues ruffle his hair fondly whenever he sits in the musicians’ recreation room backstage, feet swinging and humming along to the last piece he heard the orchestra rehearse. the auntie running the corner store down the street from his house lets him pick out candy once in a while, telling his parents what a cute child he is. “he’d make a great idol,” she goes on to joke and while mother laughs, father is quick to vehemently shake his head. “a manufactured puppet singer? i hope not.” at age five, hayan doesn’t quite know what he means yet, but the distaste in his voice is enough to make him remember anyway. for a moment, the silent seems deafening. “but mrs. kim,” his mother then pipes up, beckoning for him to come closer. “did you know he took up dancing last month?” the corner store auntie coos and the chatter goes back to its previous flow. only the little boy remains as if frozen in time, curiously studying his father’s face.

ii. silence is the first reaction he receives when he steps into the studio. it’s always been like this, the girls lined up at the bar by the mirror seemingly not used to seeing a boy in ballet class, much like in the group before and the group before that. hayan takes a moment to stop the overwhelming urge to crawl into himself and hide, inhales deeply and greets them with his signature smile. it’s different with the street dance class he joins. it takes him a solid two weeks of begging to get his parents to agree they do, he feels a bit lost. the school is big and intimidating and prestigious, and he feels scarily far out of his comfort zone. the group he is placed in an all-boys one, a novelty, and clearly, they don’t think that tiny, skinny hayan is anything close to being an asset to them.

it’s okay, though, he thinks to himself when he sees that once he starts finding a proper footing in his dance, they all are very eager to be friends. his mother is proud when he tells her about it. “so you had fun?” she asks. what she means is: so are you getting better than them? hayan nods, smiles, not quite sure how else to reply. his cheeks feel a bit stiff.

iii. silence is what fills the short interval between the end of a performance and the roaring applause that follows. hayan feels his chest heaving with excitement and exhaustion when he lifts his head and blinks into the darkness of the auditorium. this isn’t his first performance, but even after years and years, it never seems to get old. next to him the other dancers of his group start coming back to life, sweat-soaked, bright-eyed, short of breath. they all stand, then bow for the third time this week, sticky palms to sticky palms. so far, so good; nothing out of the ordinary. it is only when they file into the small backstage area again that his dance instructor pulls him over to where his mother and another woman wait. he bows preemptively, is handed a towel, smiles through the mandatory platitudes of a first meeting. they leave with a business card in hand, the mobius ent. logo sparking hope in the pit of the boy’s stomach.

his father’s study is quiet, the violin resting in the open case on the desk. hayan wishes it could play on its own, just to fill the overwhelming emptiness in the room with something. “there was a scout at last week’s recital,” he explains shakily, dreading the harsh dip of nathaniel lee’s eyebrows. “she talked to mother, too. said she liked my dancing, that i should consider auditioning for the idol company she works for.” the silence persists, clinging to the boy’s skin as he feels himself turn smaller and smaller as his father reads. “i’m at the top of my dance class. mother and miss kang think i could make it.” the frown never fades, but his father signs the line for parental consent after what feels like an eternity. “you’re fourteen, that’s still young enough. i hope the failure will teach you,” he grumbles and it hurts worse than hayan thought it would. “they’re not looking for true artists, son. your pretty face is all that matters to them.”

iv. silence is his companion as he stands in the hallway, pulling the door to the practice room shut behind him. his pretty face is, in fact, not the only thing that matters. he should’ve known, of course, he has no one to blame but himself but in the luxury of the calm it’s tempting to cry. he won’t; he’s too proud, too determined to prove his father wrong but the lump in his throat seems like it cares very little about pride. it’s mainly his dancing that keeps him afloat, years of ballet and street dance allowing him to learn fast and keep growing. his vocals, prior to training believed to be good, are average at best and make him feel inappropriate next to other, far more talented peers. year two, he bitterly notes to himself. still nowhere near where they want him to be, where he wants to be. so he trains on, teaching himself how to smile through the pain of an overworked body, how to do more while eating less, how to ignore the gnawing insecurities in the back of his mind to make it through the day without losing track of what really matters: that he’s there and not about to go anywhere.

hayan makes it into the second draft for neo, one year later, looking a bit more like he has grown into his long limbs and finally, finally having something to show for in the vocal department. only remnants of baby fat cling to his cheeks and the mister in charge of evaluations that week looks at him with a pensive expression. he doesn’t quite know what to make of that, only wonders later whether it’s his voice or his face that ultimately landed him his spot.

v. silence is a luxury. neo debuts with success, tiring trainee days blending into even more demanding days as they promote mansae. the role mobius want him to play is an easy one. smile. be charming. flirt a bit, just not too much. it doesn’t require much acting skill and hayan knows it makes him look likeable. it’s also exhausting, but that he doesn’t realize until it’s far too late. it starts eating on him bit by bit; taking the cheerful and sunny parts of his personality and distorting them, making them so much bigger until he fits into the mold of the cute gentleman management wants him to be. hayan on stage and hayan off stage are two very different people. for the cameras, he’s the charmer,  the dance prodigy, silly, funny, hayan with the endearing dimpled smile. sometimes it’s hard to figure out where that version of him ends and his real self begins when all he gets to be is only a caricatured fraction of himself. but he’s nothing if not obedient, dutiful, biting his tongue because this is what he wanted, right? a manufactured puppet idol, his memory reminds him in the few quiet moments he can catch. he didn’t fail, but maybe he wasn’t right after all, either.

( v,v. silence is all lee hayan craves late at night, when the world is quiet and his mind still rejects the peace. )

[future-rp]

neo’s main dance, sub vocal 3 leon

neo blue’s main rap, main dance & leader mobius entertainment; choreography, modeling 02 vocal / 08 rap / 10 dance

i. silence is rare in seungyeon’s home. it hides in the corners of the study when his father sets down the violin, in the comfort of his covers when his mother turns off the light in the childrens’ bedroom, desperately spreads out in the living room while the clock counts down the minutes until all four of its inhabitants return. they’re a bit mismatched, his father a foreign-born orchestra musician who stayed in south korea after his military service, his mother a formally trained dancer whose plans were thwarted by a teenage pregnancy. his half-sister seunghee is six years older, moon-faced and armed with the sweet smile his mother passed on to both of them; a smile to soften hearts and pave the way. “it’s a weapon,” seunghee would tell him many years later with a wink. “so use it wisely.”

he is pretty and he knows it. he can’t walk past his mother and her friends having tea in the living room without one of them calling him over, poking his cheeks, fawning over what an adorable child he is. “smile for them, seungyeonie,” his mother encourages him and so he does, basking in the attention and adoration. his father’s colleagues ruffle his hair fondly whenever he sits in the musicians’ recreation room backstage, feet swinging and humming along to the last piece he heard the orchestra rehearse. the auntie running the corner store down the street from his house lets him pick out candy once in a while, telling his parents what a cute child he is. “he’d make a great idol,” she goes on to joke and while mother laughs, father is quick to vehemently shake his head. “a manufactured puppet singer? i hope not.” at age five, seungyeon doesn’t quite know what he means yet, but the distaste in his voice is enough to make him remember anyway. for a moment, the silent seems deafening. “but kim-ssi,” his mother then pipes up, beckoning for him to come closer. “did you know he took up dancing last month?” the corner store auntie coos and the chatter goes back to its previous flow. only the little boy remains as if frozen in time, curiously studying his father’s face.

ii. silence is the first reaction he receives when he steps into the studio. it’s always been like this, the girls lined up at the bar by the mirror seemingly not used to seeing a boy in ballet class, much like in the group before and the group before that. seungyeon takes a moment to stop the overwhelming urge to crawl into himself and hide, inhales deeply and greets them with his signature smile. it’s different with the street dance class he joins. it takes him a solid two weeks of begging to get his parents to agree they do, he feels a bit lost. the school is big and intimidating and prestigious, and he feels scarily far out of his comfort zone. the group he is placed in an all-boys one, a novelty, and clearly, they don’t think that tiny, skinny seungyeon is anything close to being an asset to them.

it’s okay, though, he thinks to himself when he sees that once he starts finding a proper footing in his dance, they all are very eager to be friends. his mother is proud when he tells her about it. “so you had fun?” she asks. what she means is: so are you getting better than them? seungyeon nods, smiles, not quite sure how else to reply. his cheeks feel a bit stiff.

iii. silence is what fills the short interval between the end of a performance and the roaring applause that follows. seungyeon feels his chest heaving with excitement and exhaustion when he lifts his head and blinks into the darkness of the auditorium. this isn’t his first performance, but even after years and years, it never seems to get old. next to him the other dancers of his group start coming back to life, sweat-soaked, bright-eyed, short of breath. they all stand, then bow for the third time this week, sticky palms to sticky palms. so far, so good; nothing out of the ordinary. it is only when they file into the small backstage area again that his dance instructor pulls him over to where his mother and another woman wait. he bows preemptively, is handed a towel, smiles through the mandatory platitudes of a first meeting. they leave with a business card in hand, the mobius ent. logo sparking hope in the pit of the boy’s stomach.

his father’s study is quiet, the violin resting in the open case on the desk. seungyeon wishes it could play on its own, just to fill the overwhelming emptiness in the room with something. “there was a scout at last week’s recital,” he explains shakily, dreading the harsh dip of nathaniel lee’s eyebrows. “she talked to mother, too. said she liked my dancing, that i should consider auditioning for the idol company she works for.” the silence persists, clinging to the boy’s skin as he feels himself turn smaller and smaller as his father reads. “i’m at the top of my dance class. mother and miss kang think i could make it.” the frown never fades, but his father signs the line for parental consent after what feels like an eternity. “you’re fourteen, that’s still young enough. i hope the failure will teach you,” he grumbles and it hurts worse than seungyeon thought it would. “they’re not looking for true artists, son. your pretty face is all that matters to them.”

iv. silence is his companion as he stands in the hallway, pulling the door to the practice room shut behind him. his pretty face is, in fact, not the only thing that matters. he should’ve known, of course, he has no one to blame but himself but in the luxury of the calm it’s tempting to cry. he won’t; he’s too proud, too determined to prove his father wrong but the lump in his throat seems like it cares very little about pride. it’s mainly his dancing that keeps him afloat, years of ballet and street dance allowing him to learn fast and keep growing. his vocals are passable, but he fades next to his more talented, more experienced peers and rapping is fun but still new and so much harder than his father ever claimed it is. year two, he bitterly notes to himself. still nowhere near where they want him to be, where he wants to be. so he trains on, teaching himself how to smile through the pain of an overworked body, how to do more while eating less, how to ignore the gnawing insecurities in the back of his mind to make it through the day without losing track of what really matters: that he’s there and not about to go anywhere.

seungyeon makes it into the second draft for neo, one year later, looking a bit more like he has grown into his long limbs and the rapid-fire raps. the boyish face stays, but that’s okay. “you’re still young, it’s okay for you to look cute,” the man in charge of evaluations that week says before shooing him onto the scale. he smiles as he always does, nods dutifully.

v. silence is a luxury. neo debuts with success, tiring trainee days blending into even more demanding days as they promote mansae. the role mobius want him to play is an easy one. smile. be charming. flirt a bit, just not too much. it doesn’t require much acting skill and seungyeon knows it makes him look likeable. it’s also exhausting, but that he doesn’t realize until it’s far too late. it starts eating on him bit by bit; the pressure to perform well as a rapper and not just a dancer, overdrawing the cheerful and sunny parts of his personality until it fits into the mold of the cute gentleman management wants him to be. leon, that’s what they rename him, after his zodiac sign. leon, the summer child, leon, the dance prodigy, silly leon, funny leon, leon with the charming smile. sometimes it’s hard to figure out where leon ends and seungyeon begins when all he gets to be is only a caricatured fraction of himself. but he’s nothing if not obedient, dutiful, biting his tongue because this is what he wanted, right? a manufactured puppet idol, his memory reminds him in the few quiet moments he can catch. he didn’t fail, but maybe he wasn’t right after all.

when he is announced the leader of neo:blue, something falls into place again. it’s not a miracle cure; rather than that, it means even more rehearsals, more songs to learn and to start learning what it really means to lead, but the responsibility keeps him afloat. he owes it to these ten other boys to give it his all and questioning his place in all of this will lead him to nowhere, he decides. sometimes, the thought that mobius picked him for this new position because of his obedience, rather than anything else crosses his mind, but he never dares to entertain the thought for longer than a few heartbeats.

( v,v. silence is all lee seungyeon craves late at night, when the world is quiet and his mind still rejects the peace. )