#like first year resident Aaron is going to know way less than final year resident aaron

[lakeshorediving]

I feel like an important psa for people that wanna write about aaron and medicine is that right now in the books aaron is a pre-med student which really means that he's taking all the pre-requisites for medical school, but he doesn't actually know anything about medicine. He might know some things via osmosis from Abby, if he asked her about proper protocols for injury prevention, or might know some things because he's been a student athlete for a good chunk of his life and knows to ice and take anti-inflammatory medication for a sprain. But he doesn't have medical knowledge. If you tried to ask him something that isn't related to a sports injury he's gonna look at you like you're stupid for asking him in the first place. He wouldn't know how to do proper CPR unless he took a class and got certified in BLS (basic life saving). He won't be helpful during any medical crisis because he doesn't actually have that knowledge yet. That comes when he gets to medical school, which he would apply for post grad after taking the MCAT.

[renren-006]

Idea for Daryl one shot

Reader is Alexandria native

Really liked Daryl when they met at Alexandria

She's a recruiter so they spent alot of time together and she had the biggest crush

Became so jealous of Carol on multiple occasions

Carol tells Daryl how Reader feels

Daryl starts to think about Reader

Reader feels the change in his behavior so she's cautiously hopeful

But she really believes that he's sleeping with Carol

She asks him if he loves Carol or is it just a convient end of the world physical relation ?

His reaction is up to u

But it ends with fluff

Thank you 😊

Jealousy| Daryl Dixon x Reader

word count: 1,254 A/N: heyyy!! Sorry it took me a bit to write i kinda sprained some of my fingers so I couldn't work on it for a while, but there a little better now. I took your ideas and out them into the story and i hope you like what i wrote!!!

You were there that first day the new group came into Alexandria, the day Daryl had entered your small community. You were there by the gate waiting for your brother and his husband to come back to the community from their recruiting mission. Aaron, your brother, had kept you off this run. He insisted that this was something the two of them had to do, and maybe he was right because if it had been you with a broken ankle Arron would have been more worried.

You and Arron were a few years apart and also had had a few years apart during the apocalypse. You were in college down in DC when the outbreak started and had to navigate around the overrun city by yourself until you found yourself at Alexandria's gates a few years later. You had many years of survival skills under your belt so when you were tasked with recruiting duty, you felt the job suited your skills. Since then you had been allowed to go on runs alone, and you insisted on it most times because you didn't want to be responsible for someone from Alexandria who had no knowledge of how to survive out in this new world. 

When the new group arrived and Arron introduced you to them, you knew there was one person in the group you were going to like more than the others. Daryl Dixon, new resident of Alexandria and new recruiter. When the two of you started working together you couldn't help yourself from developing a crush on the man. You also consistently asked Aaron to send you on the recruitment missions with Daryl not only because of your new found crush but also because he knew what he was doing out there. He was older than you, a lot, but honestly you really didn't care. You could tell Arron could care less about the fact that his sister was smitten for the man. What made this difficult was that you couldn't help yourself from being jealous.

Carol was one of the other women who was in the new group that arrived. She was older than yourself and seemed to be a little older than Daryl. The two of them were close, and as many times as one of the others from that group reassured you the two of them were not together, you still felt jealous. One day the fist conversation you ever had with the woman went in a completely different direction than you had thought.

“Y/N right?” Carol asked you as she strolled over to you from her porch. You were on your way back to your shared home with your brother Aaron and his husband. You stopped when she spoke to you and waited till she was beside you on the street. 

“Hi Carol” you said back, trying to hide the jealousy you had for the older woman. 

“You don't have to be jealous of me. '' she spoke to you, grabbing onto your arm and walking with you down to your house, out of earshot of the others in her house. “Me and Pooky–Daryl are not together, so you don't have to worry about that hun! Plus he can't stop talking about you” 

“Wait…you're not, I mean I know you're not just..” your mind was rattled by the woman's honesty. “You're not?” your words finally came together. 

“No! Haha! He's my best friend, he's been by my side through these years, I'm sure you have one?” She questioned you. 

“I mean my brother but I was alone for a while when the whole world shut down…I was in college in DC so I had to navigate by myself” you told her, letting your secrets slip out.

“Then i understand the distrust of others” she told you, slip[ping off your arm, “you do like Daryl dont you”

“How could I not” you said, hoping she gets the idea that you were hopelessly in love with the man and her presents just makes your mind flooded with jealousy and distrust. She smiled and rolled back to her house, where Daryl was now on the porch. When he caught your eye he smiled slightly sending electricity through your skin making you break out in a smile and turn abruptly back to your stairs and run up into the house.

///

Carol strolled into the house leaving a gaping Daryl on the porch. When he came into the house She was grinning ear to ear. 

“You have an admirer” she told the man, he was still standing there confused. 

“What the hell you talking about?” he asked his best friend. “I ain't got an admirer”

“Y/N, she likes you. She thinks the two of us are together, very jealous of me getting your time.” she said with a laugh. She thought it was sweet that you liked Daryl so much. 

“Y/N likes me?” he asked, “I'm…older than her” he said.

“I dont think that matters anymore pookey, the world ended social norms are kind of fucked” she told the man, who stood there souking up her words. “You wont shut up about her Daryl, clearly there is some sort of…crush you have on her” 

“I…I think she's tough and i think she's…gorgeous” he spoke up making Carol become a giddy mess. 

“Then show her”

///

The next few days Daryl's attitude words made you self continuous. You were cautiously optimistic that his attitude towards you was because he liked you, and for a while the slightly flirtatious things he did made your heart skip a beat. 

For the next week Daryl did his best to go out of his way when he didn't have to see you, to show you that he cared. He stopped by Aaron's house with flowers he pulled from the meadow outside the community, and he even told you how pretty you were on occasion. One night the two of you were miles from the community on a recruitment when you bit the bullet and asked him.

“Have you been flirting with me as a joke or do you actually like me?” you asked him, the light from the moon shone through the abandoned business buildings window. The two of you holed up in an old run down business building in one of the second floor offices. 

“No…I like ya” he said, after he had to put the sniffer down and sit on the chair next to you. You turned towards him, letting his words sink in. “took convincing from Carol to uh..show ya”

“Carol, hm?” you said, so you decided to ask the question burning in the back of your mind. ”You're not sleeping with her, are you?”

“Hell nah” he said as a laugh erupted from him slightly “she's my best friend, never would sleep with her….you on the other hand..” He said slipping his hand down to your leg letting it brush the harsh fabric of your jeans. Things that night became physical and loud in that old run down business building and the semi soft carpet on the floor. The sounds of the night filled your ears and the moans of the two of you drowned out the rest of the world. 

 From that night on the two of you started a relationship, one that Carol was very pleased by. You and Carol became close after that and forgot all about your jealousy for the woman, seeing as she was interested in King Ezekiel after his charming attitude towards her.

[honeypiehotchner]

painfully professional (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Special thank u to @vcodns​ for sending an ask about this wip and helping give my brain the last kick to finally finish it xx.

Summary: You’re a new agent with the BAU and everyone has warmed up to you except your boss. It’s tearing you apart, but you don’t know why.

Warnings: angsty beginning, fluffy ending, mentions of being stood up on a date

(i feel like i use this gif too much but idc it’s so cute look at HIM)

Something you’ve always been proud of yourself for is your ability to mesh into any existing environment. Starting at a new school almost every year made it normal to you, so when you picked up your life and moved to Quantico, Virginia, for a temporary position at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, you weren’t scared.

In fact, on your first day, you made friends with basically everyone on the team. You bonded with the resident genius over your nerdier interests. You found a connection with Penelope Garcia this way, too, that then traveled into your love for all things bright and colorful. She showed you her office and you were practically in heaven.

Derek Morgan wasn’t hard to become friends with at all, but Penelope warned you about him being a huge flirt. Lucky for him, you know how to flirt right back, and that made him grin and say, “I like you.”

Emily Prentiss looked you up and down when you met her, but your love for coffee won her over. When JJ joined the two of you in the kitchen to grab her own coffee, Emily mentioned JJ’s son, Henry, and you wasted no time asking questions about him, letting JJ gush over her baby boy. You used to do a lot of babysitting in your hometown, so you understood entirely when JJ told you about Henry’s recent tantrums with starting school.

You already knew David Rossi, having seen him a few times at visits to the academy, and it was on his recommendation that you even got this position with the BAU.

The only person you struggled to be friends with was the unit chief, Aaron Hotchner.

Granted, he’s your boss, so you don’t exactly need to be friends with him. But being friend-ly wouldn’t hurt, and that seemed harder than anything you’ve ever done.

Now, a month and a half into your time here at the BAU, Aaron -- or Hotch, rather, as everyone calls him -- hasn’t changed or warmed up to you one bit.

At first, you assumed it was just the way he is. He did lose his ex-wife just a year earlier, now raising his son, Jack, on his own. That’s a lot to go through.

But then, you heard him telling jokes with Spencer, smiling at JJ, and telling Penelope how much he appreciates her efforts, and you started to get confused.

It’s not that you want to fish for compliments or praise because that’s something you could care less about. You just want a smile. That’s it.

The most Hotch says to you is “Good morning,” or “Hello,” or “You’re with--” whoever you’re splitting up with on a case. Nothing else.

You’ve tried initiating conversations multiple times. You hate it, but you’ve even gone as far as sitting next to him on the jet, but still nothing. Complete silence, or once, the last time you sat next to him, he moved seats.

It’s pathetic to think about, but it made you tear up a little.

You finally, finally work up the courage to go into his office and ask him the single question that has been bugging you. “Is my work satisfactory?”

Hotch looks up from his paperwork with a raised eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Am I doing a good job?” You ask again. “Is there anything I can do better?”

He stares at you for a second, his pen hovering barely a centimeter above the paper. “Nothing is coming to mind. Why?”

You shake your head slowly, realizing you’re not going to get anything from him. “I just wanted to check, that’s all.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll...let you know if I see anything. But, so far, you’ve been doing great. Seriously.”

“Thank you,” you say, trying not to look or sound too bubbly.

Yes, it’s the only praise he’s given you since being here, but it’s not the answer you thought you’d hear. You were certain you must’ve been doing something wrong that he was waiting for you to bring up, that maybe it was something minor that a green agent wouldn’t notice, that by you asking him if you’re doing your job effectively would be a sign of your self-awareness.

Maybe you’re too self-aware. Maybe that’s the problem.

+++

The third hour ticks by and you finally give up. The waiter feels terrible for you obviously being stood up, so he tells you the drink you ordered is on the house. You gather your things and make the walk of shame from your half-empty table for two through the crowded restaurant.

It could just be your shame, but you swear you see the other patrons giving you sympathy glances.

You’ve made this walk more than you’d like to say. You don’t know what it is, why you can’t seem to land a date. You’ve tried. You’ve been trying. But tonight might be your breaking point. This might be it.

When you told your best friend about your troubles at work, she asked you if you had feelings for your boss.

You promptly denied the accusation and to prove your point, said you had a date tonight. Which you didn’t, not at the time, but because you never back down on a point, you found a date.

Only to get stood up. Again.

The angry and hurt tears fall down your face when you reach the sidewalk. It doesn’t help that ever since your best friend accused you of liking your boss, you’ve started noticing things. Things like why have you been so eager for his approval? Is it really only because you want to do your job well, or is it something more? Is it something it shouldn’t be?

Something else that doesn’t help matters is that you took an Uber to this restaurant. Like an optimistic idiot. You should’ve just driven, but you wanted some wine. You didn’t order any, though. Drinking alone only makes the feeling of loneliness worse.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes widen and in a split second, you’re wiping your tears and putting on a brave face. “Sir. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Please,” Hotch chuckles lightly, something he has never done around you, and the sound makes your head spin. “We’re not in the office. Feel free to call me Aaron.”

“Okay…”

“Hotch is fine too,” he offers, noticing your skepticism. “Is everything alright?”

“Yep, yeah,” you nod, shifting your weight on your feet. “All good.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, raising his eyebrows in soft sincerity. “I don’t want to pry, but I did just see you crying.”

You sigh, knowing the look in his eyes all too well. The pity. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend to care,” you murmur. Oh, God. You sound like a pathetic teenager. You seriously need to get a grip.

Hotch stills. That’s not what he was expecting you to say. “Y/N… I do care about you.”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t believe you,” you laugh weakly, wiping your cheeks again as more tears fall. “Sorry, that was...mean, I’m sorry you have to see me like this I’m-- I’m just having a really bad night.”

“If you say so,” he says quietly, backing down. “At least let me walk you to your car.”

“I didn’t drive here, actually,” you sniffle, more tears falling at the admittance as if it’s anything to cry over, but it feels like just one more stupid decision on top of all your others. “I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. Let me drive you home. I’m parked just across the street.”

You hesitate. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he says seriously. “It’s late, and I don’t like the idea of you in a stranger’s car. Let me, please.”

He’s been your boss long enough for you to learn not to argue with him, so you say, “Okay.”

You use the little time it takes to walk to his car to get yourself together. It’s bad enough your boss walked up on you crying after being stood up, and you don’t need to make it worse by being a sobbing mess in his car. You just need to get home and then you can cry in the shower and go to work tomorrow like nothing happened.

That plan is thrown out the window when Hotch opens the passenger door for you. Your eyes widen and your best friend’s words echo in your head. “It sounds like you like him. He’s single, right? What if he feels the same?”

Doubtful. You told her that, too. It’s doubtful. He’s a widow, a single father. What would he want with a young agent like you? Why are you attracted to him?

“You can put your address into the GPS,” he says as he slides in the driver’s seat. “Or just point me in the right direction, whatever you want.”

You opt for pointing. “Just go straight for a little, but you’ll make a left.”

He pulls out onto the street and the silence returns. So do your loud thoughts.

“How was dinner?” He asks, and you scream internally.

“It was. Um. Good.”

He chuckles again, and your heart hammers in your chest. You look over at him and notice for the first time that he’s in casual clothes, a t-shirt and jeans, not his usual suit and tie. It shouldn’t be as attractive as it is, and he shouldn’t look as pretty as he does right now in the low light.

“What?”

“You didn’t sound convincing,” he says. “Was the food bad?”

“I didn’t eat.”

Hotch is silent for a second. “Why?”

You’re sure he knows. You’re sure he’s done every bit of profiling on you to find out all these answers. Still, you humor him. “I uh...I had a date, but he didn’t show up.”

“What?”

“It’s fine,” you exhale, weirdly relieved to have that bit of information out. “Not the first time it’s happened to me.”

He’s quiet for another moment. “Do you...Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

“That’s too bad,” he says, using a tone you’ve never heard him use before. Playful. “Because there’s this really good Chinese place up here that is open late.”

You feel your stomach quietly rumbling just from the mention of food. It’s a bad idea, though, he’s your boss.

But he looks...hopeful. And damn you, you feel hopeful, too.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “I could go for some Chinese.”

He grins. He actually grins and it knocks the breath from your lungs.

+++

Hotch wasn’t kidding when he said the Chinese restaurant is open late. The two of you sat down around ten, and the next time you look at your phone, it’s nearing midnight.

Conversation has never been easier with him. He has a hidden sense of humor that leaves you in stitches most of the time, and a habit of being a lot goofier than he lets on. It’s exactly the kind of company you needed tonight.

“Thank you for this,” you blurt, not wanting to forget. “I needed this.”

“Me too,” he says. “So thank you for coming with me.”

“Anytime,” you reply before you can stop yourself. “I mean-- Never mind. You know what I mean.”

He smiles, but he says nothing else, and you think he has let it slide.

See? You tell yourself internally. He’s just being friendly, finally. Nothing more.

As promised, Hotch drives you home, and ever the gentleman, he actually gets out to walk you to your front door.

You try to think nothing of it, given that he opened the car door for you earlier too, and then had dinner with you. You chalk it all up to pity, most likely, for the state you were in when he stumbled across you. That alone will haunt you forever.

Hotch stands idly by you while you fish for your key in your purse. While you’re still looking, he says, “I had a good time tonight.”

You freeze, looking up from your purse. “Me too,” you whisper, barely any noise coming from your lips.

He’s closer than he was a moment ago, but you’re not sure if that’s your overthinking mind. He’s looking at you, though, differently than he has before.

Your heart thumps loudly, your eyes locked on his. How did you never notice your feelings before? They seem so obvious when you’re standing here with him, taking in every inch of his face.

“Is it bad that I want to kiss you right now?”

His question stuns you to speechlessness, but you manage to shake your head.

It’s slow. Everything about this has been a slow descent, a losing battle, both of you fighting tooth and nail against your true feelings.

Your purse drops to your feet when your lips finally meet his. Your hands rest on his shoulders, one of his on your waist and the other on your cheek.

His lips are soft, much softer than you’d expect from such a rigid man, but he has shown you his gentle side tonight. You yearn for more of it, for more of him. You don’t know how you never realized.

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, keeping you close. Your arms shift to wrap around his neck, and you can’t help the smile that crawls to your lips.

He has one, too, and he doesn’t even realize it at first. “I have wanted to do that for two months.”

“Why didn’t you?” You murmur.

“I was trying to be professional,” he says, chuckling. “Dave told me I was being stupid.”

You lift your head. “Rossi knows?”

“Are you kidding me? He confronted me about it during your second week. He knows me better than I know myself.”

“Sounds like my best friend,” you laugh. “She accused me of having feelings for you and to prove to her that she was wrong, I had that date tonight.”

“And look how it turned out,” he smiles, kissing you again, sweeter this time. “We should have dinner tomorrow at my place. I’ll cook and we can talk.”

“That sounds really nice,” you admit. “But, if you’ll excuse me, I have a best friend to text and pajamas that are calling my name. It’s pretty late and my boss makes me come in super early,” you tease.

Hotch shakes his head at you, but he’s grinning. “I’m sure he won’t mind if you come in a little later tomorrow.”

“Oh really?”

“As long as you bring him a coffee,” he says. “Something tells me he was out pretty late too, hanging out with this dream girl of his.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Goodnight, you goof.”

He kisses you goodnight once more before letting you go, a weightless feeling in your chest. You send a single text to your friend, knowing she’ll want details tomorrow, Fine, you can say you told me so…

+++

The next morning, you show up at the BAU a little over half an hour late, which is enough to make everyone on the team share glances, but then you walk straight to Hotch’s office.

“Hey,” you knock on the doorway, trying not to smile too hard, knowing you have the entire team’s eyes on you. “Sorry I’m late. I brought a coffee to make up for it, though.”

“You’re forgiven,” he says, standing to meet you in front of his desk. “Don’t get used to bribing me, though.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” you reply. “Late night?”

“Mhm,” he says, lifting the coffee to his lips. “You?”

“Somewhat,” you say. “They’re watching us, aren’t they?”

“Like hawks,” Hotch replies, barely moving his lips.

Outside in the bullpen, everyone is crowded around Spencer’s desk, asking him to relay what the two of you are talking about in Hotch’s office.

“They’re smiling a lot,” JJ points out suspiciously.

“She never brings anyone coffee, definitely not Hotch,” Penelope says.

“And he seems to be a little too forgiving of her being late,” Emily says. “When I was that new, he wasn’t smiling like that when I was late.”

“I still think there’s something going on with them two,” Derek says, ever so skeptical.

“What are we doing?” Rossi’s voice is the loudest in the bullpen, making everyone jump from where they’re crouched by Spencer’s desk. “Eavesdropping, much? What are we, children?”

You exit Hotch’s office at this point, quietly making your way to your desk with your coffee. Everyone watches you carefully, and you feel their eyes, so you finally look up.

“Can I help you guys with something?”

“Why were you late?” Spencer blurts.

“Traffic, Spence,” you chuckle. “I left a little later than I should’ve this morning and got caught in it.”

“Long night?” Morgan asks, smirking.

You exhale, nodding. “If you’re really so curious, yes. My date stood me up.”

“Oh, babe,” Penelope frowns. “Are you okay?”

“All good,” you say, accepting her hug. “It’s for the better, he was probably a dick.”

“He is one if he stood you up,” Emily scoffs. “The audacity that men have.”

“Yeah,” you roll your eyes, catching Hotch looking at you from his office. “The audacity,” you repeat, hiding your smile.

[remsmoonlight]

— title : brownies n’ breaks

— word count : 2.2 k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : cooking is your love language and it’s time that you are able to finally make something for Daryl, protected from the high walls that alexandria boasts of are you finally able to bring that vision to life

— warnings : absolutely nothing, except sickly sweet fluff

oooo another daryl request if you’re willing!!! maybe once they get to alexandria reader makes daryl some homemade brownies or some shit because she knows he’s never had much homemade food if any just some domestic cute shit??🥺🥺♥️

          ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　requested     　/    requests are open   *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Sweetness flows throughout the air of your new home, sliding into every corner it can find to fill and warm. The smell of domesticy is something you thought perished long ago when the world died, but here you stand.. with a fresh batch of brownies in the oven baking as if life rebooted and got set back to factory settings. You move from the oven, small steps to the door to be able to survey the kitchen area once more, blinking as if to erase it from your vision, to be greeted with the punishing sun and the dirt filled roads lined with ghosts.

A cozy yellow glow is snug in the pit of your stomach as you think about who the sweet bake belongs to, Daryl has been nothing less than golden. From Atlanta, all the way to Alexandria.. he has always been one to step up without even thinking. You’d shared many secluded moments together, talking about your pasts and while he has never explicitly said anything, you have created a picture in your head about what he has gone through. The love not shared healthily to someone who will always put his family first. Even prior to the downfall of society, you loved to cook for everyone you knew.

You settle yourself with a book on the window ledge close to the kitchen, awaiting the arrival of Daryl, a giddiness that could be likened to a snowfall of glitter falling gracefully within you.

“ you know, when we finally find a new home. I will make you the best brownies you’ve ever had! “

“ if y’don’t burn ‘em first. “ he replied, the corner of his eyes crinkle so delicately as he chuckles lowly.

“ don’t be so fucking mean! here I am trying to do something nice.. it won’t kill you! “ you argue humorously, your fist balling up to punch his arm with little force.

Laughter and carelessness had been a rarity after surviving Terminus, your focus on trying to find safety.. no matter how much of a dream it may be. The journey to coming to terms with the fading faces and memories of the prison has been a painful one, comfort was not something that could easily be found, yet you found it in the least conventionally affectionate person you knew.

“ if anythin’s gonna kill me, it ain’t gonna be your cooking. “

“ actually, I cook very well. it will be a good day when I finally get to show you. “

An airy smile brightens your features, the burdenless weight unable to keep your lips stuck together. Many memories you have with him are of the fond kind, of course, the course of your bond with him runs deep but never has it been a calm sea. There have been moments where you wonder if it’s one sided, if you are inventing a picture that you wish to bleed through to reality, then you are proven wrong and he does things that you know in your heart are true. It has taken losing friends, a home, finding new hope to strengthen that bond and while you would prefer to take the easy road, you know that nothing will ever split the two of you into shards of glass that will never be able to be repaired. You’re both strong people, but stronger together.

A figure clad in black and covered in grime makes their way up the flawless road to where you rest, your vision could be awful but you can make out his being anywhere. The book you hold is laid to rest, your feet already carrying yourself to the door to meet him. Days had past since you last saw him and you can now feel the chords of longing pulling as you had missed him.

Your hand encloses the door handle, swinging it open to finally land your gaze on his form, feeling as if it had been years you’d not done so, as opposed to a few days.

“ took you long enough. “

“ yeah, yeah. quit your complainin’.  “

You move aside, Daryl taking the cue from you and entering the house that bares no soul at that present moment. Everyone is out with their own agenda or job, leaving you to potter about to your own devices.

Some peace and privacy for even a few hours is something you are thankful for, two things that had been incredibly rare from your journey from Atlanta. Though, the noise that comes with your family reminds you of the moments you couldn’t wait to be rid from as you grew up are ones that you no longer fail to appreciate.

“ did you find anybody out there? “

Daryl shakes his head, you see the trouble that he wears often become even more apparent as it overwhelms his features intensely. Knowing Daryl as well as you do, you know that while he won’t admit it out loud, every time he goes out there with Aaron to find people and finds no one wounds his spirit more and more. While his desire to save everyone is admirable, it’s often a concern to you that it might be the straw that breaks the camel’s back and he’s often met with your comforting energy of it being simply an unsustainable trait.

“ you know you won’t always find people, right? “ you ask him softly, tucking your legs underneath you as you seat yourself on the sofa.

Daryl refuses to sit, it’s a thought that regularly finds itself bouncing around your mind as to why he can’t relax even behind the walls of Alexandria.

“ yea’, still sucks though. “ he wipes his thumb across his nose, an unconscious habit on his part, discussing his thoughts and feelings has never been easy, raised in a home full of toxicity stunted him emotionally, something he still wrestles with when the occasion arises.

“ there’s going to be a day where you’ve gone and saved everyone! there won’t be anyone left for you to bring back! cut yourself some slack. “

Daryl doesn’t respond, knowing there is truth in your words but he has seen so much death already, the world gripped by dark and dim choke hold, a little dusting of life is something that has been lacking since it died. Avoidance of feelings is something Daryl flees to when the conversation gets tough, he can deal with  words full of anger and rage, but topics so delicate still feel so alien to him.

“ wha’ y’been up to? “ the male questions you, seemingly interested in what you have been up to, watching you from the otherside of the room.

As if a switch had been flipped, your eyes ignite with excitement and joy as you have finally been able to fulfil your unofficial promise to him.

“ remember when we were talking about my cooking? when you insulted it? “ the sides of your lips gently lift with a soft innocence, you feel the elation slowly warming the entirety of your body at the simpleness of it all.

“ y’ain’t gone and poisoned sumn’ have ‘ya? “ asks Daryl, turning to face you from across the floor where he stood. His tone holds a ‘ blink and you will miss it ‘ humour threaded into his words.

“ I should have! “ laughing at him, you fit your fingers between his and lead him into the kitchen with you.

Touch is still something that sends an uncomfortable shiver to travel the distance down his spine, but with everything you have been through and all the time you have spent together, touch is something he’d never turn from when thinking of you. Your relationship has been a strange, never formal one, but it is perfect for the two of you. Unspoken words full of warmth and fondness are a solidity in each one’s souls, and while you both never shared the extent of what the two of you have with the group, they have their suspicions and theories. But if they know one thing, it’s Daryl’s affection for you runs deep.

“ brownies! “

He peaks into the oven that you have opened, the rich smell of cocoa and heat baking the treats hit him like a brick, a pit forms deep in his stomach. This is different from past meals beforehand. You had gone out of your way for him, of all people. Never could he mentally grip why you have been so kind and benevolent with him but it’s something he treasures deeply. In the beginning he was more abrasive with you more than anyone else, but it used to be his go to defense mechanism with everyone in your family. Softness never being something destined for him was beaten into him for a young age, learning only how to loathe and to only say words in anger. It wasn’t until you came along and took your time with him did he let you in, something you have been grateful ever since.. especially since you have been able to discover the colourful soul that resides within him.

“ y’didn’t have to. “ he replies, his mouth watering at the mere smell of the brownies that are close to being fully baked.

“ Daryl… “ a softness in your response that is only reserved for him is heavy, your eyebrows furrowing in dejection. You know enough of his history to be confident in your placed hurt for him being unable to experience kindness in a positive manner. Your hand trails up his clothed arm and rests on his shoulder lightly, allowing for him to decide whether or not to accept the physical affection. He doesn’t shrug it off, if anything he leans more into your touch. “ you know I’m doing this because I want to, you deserve something nice! “

“ thanks. “

“ and they’re nearly done, so you best take a seat. “

Daryl follows your order with little encouragement, a smirk that he conceals from your view and sits at the lengthy dinner table. He’s having trouble connecting the dots of the dead walking and civilisation ended and the pure normalcy of him sitting at a dinner table about to eat home cooked brownies. Even back when the world was bustling with life and people working their nine to fives were home cooked meals a rarity.

“ so this is what y’spent your day on? “ he asks as he watches you with a spark of fondness in his eyes as you work in the kitchen.

“ cooking is therapeutic. “

“ y’ a weird person. “ Daryl quips, staring at you right in your eyes. His expression gives nothing away, though his eyes speak a thousand words and paint a thousand colours that you understand fully.

It’s lucky you know him so well to understand when he’s being serious and when not.

“ but you like it! “

The squares of the baked treats are uneven and jagged, your features contorting into a confused frown at how they could so well until the end. You blame the knife for the imperfection and flaws of the appearance of what lays before you, however your heart knows it’s your inability to present your dishes artistically.

“ now I apologise they don’t look good but they do taste good! “

“ y’never have to say sorry for anythin’ “ he thoughtless says, his mind to preoccupied with the food laid before him.

A picture painted by his mind long ago had you as the perfect person, it’s comforting to know the flaws you have are nothing short of charming in your own little way. With the lack of elegance associated with him, his fingers dig into the irregular shape of the brownie and shoves half of it  into his mouth.

You watch him with your breath holding itself, never have you been a person who has wanted to impress but when it comes to Daryl? You find yourself wanting to do that and more.

“ well? “

He nods with his mouth full, unable to formulate his words. His jokes about your cooking being bad have been nothing more than that, jokes. But even as he’s consuming the small squares he’s surprised at how good they taste, better than he could even imagine.

“ ain’t half bad. “

“ in Daryl speak that means they’re pretty damn great, huh? “ you question him rhetorically, amusement dancing on each word you speak as you gaze steadily on his form.

“ well y’didn’t burn the house down. “

Your mouth opens and eyes widen considerably as your expression twists from being filled to the brim of affection to one of shock, aghast at his jovial words. The laughter tumbles carelessly from your lips as you reach across to swat his arm playfully.

“ you are so rude! “

He joins in with your laughter, a sight so infrequent that you wish you could burn the image into your mind with no chance of being erased by time. It’s moments like these, where you truly feel like the only two people in the world, stolen moments you hold close to your heart. You hope that you will reach a space where you both will be able to freely express your feelings, while the mutual affection is known between the both of you, sometimes you want to use words. So he knows, because it’s something he deserves. To know how much he is loved, without cowering away from the subject.

“ nah I’m just kiddin’. thanks, I mean it. “

[morgansmoreid]

Secrets  • Derek Morgan • Three

Fic Masterlist

Name: Happy Moments and Old Friends

Warnings: Sexual Content

(Italics Stand For Flashbacks)

Y/n lets go of her father's hands and switches the suitcase to her other side. She hates the man before her but she still leans in and presses a small kiss to his cheek, pulling back to examine him. Clean, is the word she would use to describe him. Colored hair and a shaved face, her father looked younger than she could pin him.

"Is it still the same?" Y/n points to the glass door. "It's been so long."

Y/F/N only nods and turns to hold the door for the three agents. Y/n goes in last, goosebumps on her arms from the seconds no one watches the two. But as Y/F/N makes no moves, she slowly calms down and ignores the looks she gets. She's her father's twin, she knows that, but from the way she carried herself past years, she can see the shock in some people's eyes as the badge resides on the band of the pants.

"Here." Y/F/N takes the three agents into the big conference room. The room Y/n was never allowed to go in, the one that held every meeting that pulled her father away from her life, the one she dreaded.

Y/F/N didn't follow Derek, Penelope, and Y/n into the room, leaving them to interrogate.

"Fields?" Derek was a little hurt and the sudden front his partner put on.

"Not now." Y/n shut down any further questions and walked past her team members to start the step up. The board looked clean halfway through, papers in order, and information that Y/n wrote up made it easier on Penelope, who was still giving Y/n the cold shoulder.

The silence the three create as they work is not tense. Frankly, the only sounds are Y/n's nails against her tablet and Penelope's keys being clacked against her research, mixed in with a little bit of Derek's blocky writing against his yellow pad.

Well, it was silent, until the door busted open with an angry man coming in and screaming at Y/n. "You should have answered my damn text!" He screamed, walking towards her, causing her to step out of her seat and back to the nearest wall. Derek did the same but in the protection of his girlfriend. "I was worried sick and you couldn't even bother to text me a quick answer? What the fuck is that about?" The man is still screaming until he is shut down by Derek.

"Excuse you!" He walks forward, his body still protecting Y/n's. "Watch yourself and who you talk to like that!" Derek isn't screaming like Deputy James, the tag on his uniform reads. Deputy James Diaz. But Derek's tone is indeed strict. It's rare anyone hears him speak as he did moments ago, even on cases. Daiz steps down. Derek doesn't move his body from Y/n but she moves from behind him to next to him.

"We can talk about this later." She looked him straight in the eye. Fear from her father still ran through Y/n's bloodstream as she spoke, but Y/n stood her ground and watched James slowly back up before he left the room himself. His face too looked cleaner and he overall looked better. It's hard to look at James from the last time they were alone together, but that didn't stop Y/n from seeing the differences.

For years and years, he kept quiet about his feelings to the woman next to him. Her hair smelled like flowers as she laid on his shoulder, hands connected as they watched the stars off of his apartment building roof.

"You are one the reasons I still come back to the wretched town, James," Y/n spoke truthfully. "You are the one friend that has always stayed by me."

James only smiled and looked at Y/n. She sits up from his shoulder and they meet eyes. It's regular to her so she doesn't stop him when his hand caresses her cheek. It's not regular when his lips meet hers and at first she wants to say something. But he kisses her again and she doesn't stop him. Y/n gets pulled in closer and lets James run his hand on her back.

"Should we?" Y/n's words drift.

"I've wanted to for as long as I could imagine." James honestly replied.

"Who was that?" Penelope finally spoke up.

"The deputy. Also, an old friend that I fell out of touch with."

"And what is talking about you not answering his text? What is going on here?" Derek pushed his writing pad aside.

"My high school reunion is in 4 days, on Saturday. James and a few others texted me because everyone wanted to know I was coming, I didn't reply because I didn't expect to be here." Y/n speaks fast, and if years with Spencer didn't help the two in the past, it helped them now as they picked up every word.

"And you didn't say anything? We could have made it if you were concerned about work-"

"I didn't want to go in the first place," Y/n spoke words that had less meaning of what she truly meant. Derek nor Penelope continued the conversation after that and tried to get back to work. It was only 8 A.M in the hot state and as much as they needed coffee, no one wanted the shitty police coffee they get every case.

20 minutes passed and Penny headed out to find a bathroom. Derek still hadn't said anything and only fiddled with his pen as his mind stayed blank. Eyes stayed on the filled page as the sound of Y/n getting up from her chair played in his ears. He tried to ignore her as he could until she placed a hand on his shoulder. No, he didn't shove her off or push her away, even though his muscles tensed.

"Babe.." Y/n called, turning her head to the closed door and the blinded window next to her before turning back. "I'm sorry, I should have told you."

"Yea. You should've." Derek scoffed, leaning himself back in the office chair he resided in. "I mean come on Y/n, this is the type of thing we are supposed to talk about."

"I know. I know." Y/n easily fits herself between the conference table and Derek. "I just can't be here and didn't want to think about it so I just ignored it in general, and I am so so sorry I didn't tell you." Derek takes Y/n's hands and closes them in his.

"It's ok, just.., let's get to the bottom of this case so we can go home ok?" Y/n nods and leans down pressing a small kiss to Derek's lips.

"How about we get this day over and at least hit the hotel? Wouldn't that be nice, daddy?" She smirked and whispered, the door making her pull away before she could receive an answer. Penelope sat down, more focused while the two soon joined her. It was just the three in the room for a while. When Aaron and Emily joined them first, evidence came with them, leaving Y/n to add it to the board.

"Y/L/N, you're 29 right?" Penelope finally spoke to the woman.

A small mhm left Y/n as she peeled the glove from her hand.

"But Christina and Rose are 32? How would you guys share the same reunion?"

But before Y/n could answer the given question, Aaron had his own.

"Reunion? You didn't say anything?"

"Small high school reunion for all. Not just for the seniors, we don't do that here. Technically, I still have 3 left to go because this year would be their senior year." Y/n clarified. "I didn't need to say anything because I don't ever come back to the place. Not for birthdays, weddings, I'm the black sheep that everyone knows."

And with that, Y/n proudly shut down the unwanted questions her way. Aaron looked over to Derek, surprised when he seemed equally confused. Y/n didn't say she knew the victims, but she talked about them as if she did and Aaron wrote it down as questions to bring up when his subjects came in for questioning later that day.

Penelope's profile and research grew more as the team was reunited again but she still didn't understand why or who was targeting these women.

"I set up times for everyone Hotch," Penelope closed tabs on her computer. She tried to stay focused but after 3 hours and more looking at horrible crime photos, she needed her baby kittens and pandas.

"Good, thank you," Aaron said, leaving the question in the air. "Lunch anyone? We all have to be hungry."

"Yea, any good places?" David put down his own work before turning over to Y/n.

"I'll ask around."

"You don't remember any?" A voice at the door spooked everyone.

"Nope." Y/n popped the P. Now that she was around her team, her father didn't scare her. Confidence boosted around her.

Spencer looked between Y/F/N and Y/n multiple times before saying some of the others were thinking. "Is he your brother? You both look identical!"

"No!" Y/n responded offended. Yes, her father cleaned up his act but there was no way he looked that young. "And it's not important, the only thing I remember is a diner about 15 minutes from here."

"It is important, I'm her father. But Y/n's right, there is a diner called Happy's 10 minutes west." He crossed his arms and rested his face. His eyebrow twitched, but Y/n ignored it and looked past him, out to the open.

"Not that important," She mumbled. "Let's go eat, I'll drive."

Y/n followed her father into the '80s themed diner. She stood behind him and watched as he tapped the bell.

"Hey, Lennie! Wanted to get me a coffee and my Daredevil a bagel before I headed in for the day, can you whip it up for us?" Y/F/N talked to the manager that had walked out of the back. The stupid nickname Y/n had since she was four made Lennie look at her, giving her a half-wave that she gave back.

"Sure Bud, on the house for our favorite sheriff and his wonderful daughter."

Y/n pulled the car into park and Aaron did the same. The team was large, one vehicle wasn't nearly enough. Y/n was the first to get out, holding open the door for everyone. The diner was almost empty. Only one woman resided in the back, her hair so long that her face was covered by it. She didn't want to be seen, that was clear. Y/n tapped the bell and waited for someone to come out, shocked, to say the least when Lennie came out.

"Lennie!" She said happily, putting a smile on the old man's face.

"Daredevil! You're back!" Lennie walked around the counter and hugged Y/n like never before. It was soon he learned why she got the name daredevil and it stuck until now.

"I am back, and pretty hungry, you still have those magic skills of yours?"

"You know it! Come sit, come sit," Lennie walked over to a booth and seated everyone. He more than happily took everyone's order and every so often he checked on the lady who sat in the back. For once, Y/n was happy to be home. Dipping her fries in the milkshake, true laughter ran from Y/n. For once, no one was pushing her. For once, everything was calm.

Lennie insisted that lunch was on the house and he had it covered, but Y/n still slipped that 100 dollars bill in his pocket like it was nothing. She hopped back into the driver's seat and led the way down the street, window open and the air humid now that the sun was fully out.

The time that displayed itself on her watch said 2:35. They had been out for less than 2 hours, and it was the best time she has had here in a while. Y/n walks into the station with a small smile and joins the team back to the conference room. Everyone is in a better mood. Work comes to them naturally and the only thing that stops the peaceful space is James.

"There has been another body- Daniela Choi."

[aperrywilliams]

The Resident Genius (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

———————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader x BAU

Summary: Reader joins Spencer in his last day in the BAU.

Word Count: 3497.

Warnings: None. Melancholy? Could be a category for this.

A/N: Today is Monday. I don’t want to work. I’m thinking in retirement. That’s all.

——————–

“Are you ok?” (Y/N) asked me squeezing lightly my arm while the elevator lifted us to the 6th floor.

“Yeah. A little bit nervous, but I’m fine,” I replied giving her a little smile. She took my hand intertwining our fingers. “Thank you” I muttered.

“Why is that?” she asked smiling.

“You didn’t need to be here right now. You haven't come here for a while”. I shrugged.

“I didn’t let you do this alone. You did the same with me some years ago. I’m your wife, remember?”

“I remind it every day I wake up next to you. And I realize me how lucky I have been all this years for that” I told her with a smile.

“You have become cheesy over the years, you know?,” affirmed (Y/N) giggling.

“And you love that, don’t you?,” I pointed out.

“Yes, my cheesy and loved Dr. Reid,” whispered (Y/N) kissing my cheek.

“I love you”

“I love you too, baby” she replied.

The elevator doors opened and we walked to the glass doors of the bullpen. Opening them made the environment feel like any other day at work. Agents moving from one desk to another, from one office to another. Some reviewing files, others making phone calls, others discussing an ongoing case. My routine for the last 40 years.

With (Y/N) we go up the stairs to the offices sector, coming at the door of my office. Oh yeah, Dr. Spencer Reid finally managed to have an office for himself when he completed 30 years of service at the BAU.

It wasn't a big deal to me either. I was used to my desk. The desk which witnessed so many conversations with my team mates. Where I could perform my magic tricks by experimenting with the laws of chemistry and physics, where I spent hours and hours reading reports. The same desk that housed hundreds of coffee mugs on it. Desk from where I could peek at (Y/N) without her noticing. The same desk that witnessed our sneaky kisses with (Y/N) when everyone had already gone home and we were the only ones working in the bullpen. Desk where I knelt to ask her to marry me. The same desk where I was sitting when (Y/N) told me she was pregnant the first time.

"Are you going to step inside?". (Y/N) asked when she saw I stood in front of the door without opening it.

"Yes. Sure. I got distracted. Sorry". After I put a feet on the office, the first thing I saw were empty boxes ready to be filled with my things. Which were not few. It was enough to see the shelf full of books, some of which I had from my first years at the BAU.

“I think these boxes won’t be enough. I had forgotten how many books you had in the office” (Y/N) commented laughing.

"And we still haven't discussed where I'll put them at home..." I stated clearing my throat.

“Now I think is good Emily doesn't live with us anymore. You could use that room for a 'new' library,” (Y/N) suggested.

"It’s possible. Although Abby surely wanted to take that room for her...".

"I'm sure you can reach an agreement" (Y/N) replied giving me a kiss in my forehead.

“Yeah, I think we will”

“Okay, start packing. I'll make you a coffee in the meantime" she said starting to move to the coffee machine placed in one of the shelves.

"You are the best, you know?". I answered, taking her by the waist, bringing her close to my body and lifting her chin to look at those eyes that keep driving me crazy as if it were the first day I met her.

"I know. But… are you going to stare at me forever or will you dare to kiss me?". We both started laughing. That verbatim phrase left her lips for the first time after our first date. I leaned down to meet her lips with mine. Almost 30 years of marriage and kissing (Y/N) still makes me erupt butterflies from my stomach. The power of this woman over me is indescribable.

Our kiss was disrupted when someone opened the office door.

"Dr. Spencer Reid on his last day of work. I thought I was going to see him busily packing his books and not in a make-out session with his wife."

"Wow, I didn't expect my boss to find me this way". I commented laughing.

Jack Hotchner had become the BAU’s Unit Chief 5 years ago, following in his father's path. Easier to smile than Aaron, Jack maintained the same rigor leading the BAU, proving to be a natural leader. Respected and loved by his colleagues, no one questioned his rules, not even the impulsive Hank Morgan, who joined the BAU 3 years ago.

“I think you will need help Reid. I doubt you can finish packing by yourself before lunch” Jack affirmed.

"Hey, maybe I’m old and never have been very athletic, but at least I can take care of my books" I protested.

"If you say so Reid... if you say so..." said Jack teasing me.

“I would help him. But I know him and I know that just touching one of his relics he will go crazy. So I just make the coffee and thus avoid problems" stated (Y/N) laughing.

“You know him better than anyone (Y/L/N). When you left the BAU a few years ago, Dr. Reid became a grouch in the office because no one else understood his ways,” said Jack.

"Could you at least consider me here when you talk about me?" I protested again as Jack and (Y/N) laughed.

“I'd better leave you, so Dr. Reid can start his task. I'll be back for you at lunch,” Jack declared.

"Jack... is it necessary?... I mean, I can say goodbye to each one of you here... it’s not necessary to have a large lunch meeting with everyone..."

“I won't hear complaints about that now Reid. I'll be back for you at lunch time,” said Jack before closing the door.

"The boss has spoken" (Y/N) recited looking at me and shrugging.

"You know that I don't like these activities with so many people... and even less if I have to give a speech..."

“Spencer… baby, I know. But they are your colleagues, several of them children of your best friends. They have known you for years. You are even godfather to some of them. The least they want to do is say goodbye to you in this job that has been your life for almost 40 years”.

(Y/N) was right. A lifetime at the BAU. Just thinking about it I felt tears well up in my eyes. I knew it was the natural passage of time, but I didn't know yet if I was ready to leave this life behind.

"I know. It's just… thinking I won't be working in this place again makes me anxious. What am I going to do now (Y/N)? "

"Isn't it Dr. Spencer Reid, who is always enthusiastic about knowledge and new things, who asks me that?" (Y/N) teased me.

"Don't make fun of me (Y/N), you know I don't have the same energy as before..."

"Maybe not. But I know you. That brain of yours will handle it. Besides, I think you owe me some nights where we can go to bed early and many mornings to stay in bed until after noon, don't you think?”

"Yes. It’s true" I replied with a smirk.

“Spencer, you have to take things in a different perspective. And to enjoy what you have achieved in this years of full effort. For example, seeing your children doing what make them happy. Learning from his father”.

"Stop right there (Y/N)... I don't want to cry... yet, please." (Y/N) grinned and pulled me into a tight hug.

“For many years you were the resident genius of this place. It’s time you leave that place to new resident geniuses”, she sentenced, sealing her words with a kiss on my cheek.

We start packing. Indeed the boxes weren’t enough. (Y/N) had to go get some more from the basement. The few pictures on the wall were also packed up. As well as the photographs that were on my desk: one of my mother, another of (Y/N) with me on our wedding day, another of Emily, Theo and Abby, my children. One last from the BAU team with Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan and JJ.

The morning went quickly. It was a little after 1:00 p.m. when Jack got back to the office.

“I see you are almost ready. The remained things we can take it later. We can ask some of the boys for help,” said Jack, looking around the almost empty office.

“I think that help will needed to load the car. I didn't think it would be so many boxes after all” I complained.

"No problem. Now come on, it's time for lunch”.

Leaving the office and walking down the hall to the conference room, one last time, was more difficult than I thought. (Y/N) noticed it immediately and took my hand, squeezing it gently to encourage me. I looked at her and when she saw my anxiety she approached my ear and whispered 'I'm so proud of you Spencer, I love you so much. We are in this together, don't forget it.' I nodded, gulped, squeezed her hand, and I continued walking.

Stepping inside the room, my surprise was greater than I expected. Not only did I see my colleagues, in fact, I saw the children of my friends, my godchildren, some of my friends and my own children. Everyone lining up to give me a hug.

The first was SSA Hank Spencer Morgan:

“Uncle Spencer, we're going to miss you here. You have been a great example for everyone”.

"Thanks Hank. I’m leaving comfortable knowing you are here and knowing you’re a great contribution to this team”.

Then it was his father's turn, Derek Morgan:

“My man! At last you are leaving this place. I didn't think you were going to last so many years. I thought I was going to die and you would still be rambling at the BAU. Come on!. It's time to enjoy life with (Y/N). Start thinking about a second honeymoon" he sentenced, elbowing me in the ribs.

"Completely considered" I replied laughing and giving him a squeeze on the shoulder.

Then it was SSA Michael LaMontagne's turn: “Uncle Spence, it was an honor to have worked with you at the BAU. I have learned a lot from you in life, not only here. We’ll continue to see each other for sure”.

“Of course we do, Michael. I'm sure you’ll continue to do an excellent job here. I have no doubt about it”.

Behind Michael was Henry LaMontagne. The first baby I held in my arms– almost panicking: “Uncle Spencer. The BAU owes you a lot. I am proud to be your godson and thankfully for you to be part of our life. Much success in this new stage of your life”.

"If the BAU owes me, I also owe the BAU, so I think we are at hand." I replied.

By now tears were falling from my eyes. A motherly smile spread to the next person in line: JJ. She came over and I buried my face in her shoulder.

"Hey, you should be happy. You will stop drinking this horrible coffee" she said while hugging me. "Spence. We both know that this place became an important part of our lives. But you have to let it go. We deserve it".

"I know. I'll just have to get used to the idea. You know, no longer bad sleeping habits, decent food, those things… I don’t know if I’m ready for that”. I replied wiping my tears with my fingers.

SSA Chloe Simmons was next to hug me:

"Dr. Reid, really thank you very much for all the teachings you have given us over the years. My dad always spoke with great appreciation of you. I'm sure he would have loved to be here now”.

“Thanks Chloe, Matt was a great man. Very smart and much more athletic and stocky than me, of course. Surely he must be happy that you have decided to join the BAU”.

Who was next in line? Former BAU chief and now former FBI director Emily Prentiss:

“Finally Spencer!, just like Morgan, I thought I would disappear from this world and you would still be working at the BAU. Come here my favorite genius”, Prentiss said while she pulled me into a hug that could have left me breathless. It’s true Prentiss no longer had the same youthful strength as before, but she would always be a tough girl. I reciprocated the hug as strongly as possible.

“Sooner or later it had to happen. I hope you have already forgiven me for how badly I treated you the first months of your arrival". I said laughing.

"You fool. Your memory is clearly better than mine. I already forgot” she replied laughing too.

Then it was Jack Hotchner's turn:

“Thank you very much Spencer for everything. For all the years you spent at the BAU. This place owes you a lot and there is nothing we can do to even make up for even a part of your dedication here."

"Thanks Jack. I can only say that Aaron would be tremendously proud to see you in the man you have become."

At the end of the line were my children. The first to hug me was Emily, now SSA Dr. Emily Reid:

"Dad. I'm so proud of you. I just wanted to thank you because despite this job and how demanding it is, you managed to be with us in our childhood and growth. You’ll always be an example for us and I only hope to live up to what you have been for the BAU”.

"My little pumpkin. Now you are Dr. Reid of the BAU. Have no doubt you’ll do an excellent job here. Better than mine even, because you have your mother's DNA and teachings. I'm proud of you. I love you so much. I wish you the best for the future. You deserve it". The hug we gave each other could have been eternal. My little one, my daughter, the first fruit of my love with (Y/N).

Then came Theo. My little man. The image of (Y/N). The same kindness, the same audacity, the same dedication to others. Not for nothing did he become a primary school teacher. His vocation fills me with delight and seeing him happy is my greatest happiness.

"Dad, congratulations! You managed to overcome the adversities of life and you have reached this point where now you can see everything you have achieved. You can be with mom and enjoy this new time with her. I have always admired the love you have for each other. Patience and dedication towards each other. Thank you for showing us that and teaching us to be better persons, both through the good and the bad”.

“Thank you Theo. My little man. You know you’ll always be our little one, right? With your mother we love you very much and we are happy to see the person you have become”. We both embraced and when we parted I kissed his forehead, just like I did when he was a child.

Abby came later. Without saying anything, she hung around my neck, burying her head on my chest. She was crying. I couldn't help it either and started crying too.

"I'm sorry dad. I didn't want to cry because I knew it would make you cry too. But they are tears of joy, to see everyone in this room loves and appreciates you. You’re the best in the world dad, even if you are a nerd and sometimes you are more strict than mom”. We both started laughing.

“Thank you my little baby. It makes me so happy to have you still with me. To see how you grow up every day and find your own way. Sorry if I'm a little more strict than mom sometimes. I'll try to relax a bit, I promise." Abby squeezed me hard and before releasing me she gave me a kiss on the cheek.

As if all the tears I had shed up to that moment and the lump in my throat from the emotions of the moment were not enough, I had to give a speech. At least say something. (Y/N) came to my side and took my hand. She knew perfectly well this was the part that made me nervous, even at my age. They were all silently looking at me. I cleared my throat and started to speak.

"I must start by saying that with all the hugs that I gave today, I’m ready with the hugs that I had not given in these 40 years...".

Collective laughter. Of course, we were talking about Dr. Spencer Reid, the man averse to displays of affection who appreciated them over the years and only reserved them for the most important people in his life.

"Having said that. And knowing that you expect a speech in the least eloquent from me, I must be sincere and confess that everything I say in from now may make very little logical sense in some parts, because it responds rather to the most emotional and chaotic part of my person. Part that (Y/N) knows well and who I know is chuckling without even looking at her…"

I could hear the giggles of (Y/N).

“Am I rambling already? I'm sure you expected no less from me. As well. I'm not going to tell you the story of how I got to the BAU because you already know that. Nor am I going to tell you how each one of these 40 years working here was, because almost half of you also know it and the other half are living it right now..."

Again, collective laughter.

“Apparently with age I managed to find my comical side, because when I was young nobody laughed at my jokes. I don't blame you either, they were nerdy jokes, I wouldn't have laughed in your place either. Anyway. I don't want to diverge from the main issue..."

Silence. Full attention to me. To my words. It was like a conference, but the most important of my life.

“I want to thank each of you for being here today. I'm sure you had more important things to do today. Even my wife, whom I had to bribe to help me pack my office stuff. No, seriously. Thank you very much. Today is a weird day. I’m happy to see all of you, but I’m also sad because I have to leave and I’ll no longer work at the BAU anymore...

This place saw me grow up. Here I made mistakes, here I could made a difference too. Here I fell in love with a great woman. Here I made great friends. Here I started a family…

I just want to tell you that this place has been full of excellent people, not only good professionals, but good people, with a good heart, committed to the objective of this work, although sometimes the personal costs have been higher…

I think it's fair to mention them now, because I had the honor of meeting them and working with them. Everyone made me part of their life and so they are part of mine: Jason Guideon, David Rossi, Aaron Hotchner, Penelope García, Elle Greenaway, Jordan Todd, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Ashley Seaver, Alex Blake, Kate Callahan, Luke Alvez, Tara Lewis, Matt Simmons, Stephen Walker… I could go on. There are so many people. There are so many stories..."

I couldn't stop my tears. The rest of the audience either. It was a chorus of sobs, some more muffled, others more expressive. I had to stop for a moment. I took a deep breath and composed myself again. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around my torso, resting her head on my back. I could feel her tears running through my shirt.

“Well, I don't want this to be a sad moment. I want to leave this place thinking I tried to do things right. That I did all I could to be a contribution to this team. Now, as (Y/N) told me a few hours ago, it's time for the new resident geniuses. The BAU stays in you, this great family continues with you. You must work together, support each other, grow up, make mistakes, learn from your faults, listen to each other. You must be a team. I will always miss you guys, and if you ever need an old nerd who likes to ramble and talk about everything, who knows strange things and a lot of statistics, you know where to find me”.

———————

[neil-jortson]

It’s only a matter of time

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

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

word count: 2k 

The foxes in quarantine: a bullet point fic 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life for them was simple but draining. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was only a matter of time.

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection Day 25: Slow Burn

The difference between living and existing (WIP) | @lucy-is-alive

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6052 Main Tags/Warnings: John Winchester's A+ parenting, College AU, Sexuality crisis, PTSD, Childhood trauma, Recreational drug use, Angst and hurt/comfort Summary: As soon as he got the chance, Dean left his father behind and went to college. However, he never anticipated that the absence of the person who had disrupted his entire life would make it worse. With the help of his friends, he tries to navigate through the emotional hurricane that comes with complex PTSD.

Celestial | @deservetobesaved

Rating: Mature Word Count: 10585 Main Tags/Warnings: slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, emotional affair, bottom!dean Summary: Dean is in a less than stellar marriage, but he assumes things will work themselves out. At the same time, Mr. Castiel Novak becomes his new co-worker at school and Dean has to rethink everything he thought he had figured out.

Welcome to the Badlands (WIP) | @cr-noble-writes

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 15386 Main Tags/Warnings: graphic violence, dystopian au, fusion, into the badlands au, slow burn Summary: The wars were so long ago, nobody even remembers. Darkness and fear ruled until the time of the Barons, seven men and women who forged order out of the chaos. People flocked to them for protection. That protection became servitude. They banished guns and trained armies of lethal fighters they called Clippers. This world is built on blood. Nobody is innocent here. Welcome to the Badlands.

Profound Kisses | @verobatto-angelxhunter

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20700 Main Tags/Warnings: Destiel, post 8x07 canon divergent, mutual pining, explicit sexual content, angst with a happy ending, clueless! Castiel, pining!Dean, Top!Dean, Bottom!Cas, slow burn, love confessions, first kiss, french kiss, Sammy knows. Summary: Dean knows he's screwed. He discovers he is in love with Castiel in Purgatory, and now he can't even have the angel in front of him, because he knows it's a one sided love. It’s Valentine's day and Dean tries very hard to hook up as always, but he can't get Cas out of his mind. So he drives back to the motel, drunk, and he finds Castiel trying to help him. Then, when Dean asks Castiel for some experimental kisses and the angel accepts, Dean starts a very dangerous game… finding in Castiel's kisses the most delicious experiences, but also, his own perdition. Will Castiel fall in love with him? Or will he stay emotionless as always?

Hate me, but love me too | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 23310 Main Tags/Warnings: Virgin!Dean,f hate spell, hate curse, younger!dean, older!sam, Grace Sharing, First Kiss, First Time, Hate Sex, Dubious Consent, Mildly Dubious Consent, Cas is cursed, (not really MCD but Cas isn't alive in the beginning), Castiel has sex with somebody else in the beginning(and Dean sees it), Heartbreakbut I will fix it! Summary: Dean’s whole life changes when his mother tells him that John isn’t his biological father and he needs to save the world from his sibling Adam, who is the King of Hell. But he can’t do that alone, he needs the best Hunter earth had, Castiel Novak.

Starstruck (WIP) | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 40860 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Slow Burn, Actor Dean, Single Parent Castiel, Pining Summary: From the outside Castiel Novak looks like a regular guy: a good job, two teenage kids, a nice house and a crappy car he’s way too attached to. But there’s one thing no one knows about him: that, over twenty years ago, he used to live next to no other than Dean Winchester – back then a brash and loud-mouthed boy and nowadays a huge movie star and Hollywood’s sweetheart. Castiel never bothered to tell anyone about his childhood friend because frankly, who would believe him? Probably even Dean himself already forgot about his former awkward and weird neighbor, so Castiel seriously doesn’t see any point in mentioning the whole thing ever. But then an interview on national TV happens where Dean reveals way more about his past than ever before … and Castiel - as well as the rest of the world - suddenly realizes that he left a much bigger impact on Dean’s life than he originally thought.

Letter to Dean Winchester (WIP) | @castielsangel-blade

Rating: Mature Word Count: 44182 Main Tags/Warnings: Past Lisa/Dean, Past Aaron/Dean, Past Castiel/Dean, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Mentions of Past Cheating, Mentions of Past Toxic Relationship, Gray Romantic Castiel, Asexual Castiel, Epistolary, Bisexual Dean Summary: Castiel writes and sends a letter to Dean Winchester. He wants closure for the toxic relationship they had in high school.

Falling Apart | @cr-noble-writes

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 49204 Main Tags/Warnings: minor character death, sam deceased when fic starts, alcoholism, drug misuse, addiction, rehab au, soulmate au, flashbacks, ptsd Summary: Sword & Cross Resident Rehabilitation is a last-ditch effort for Dean Winchester to move past the drug and drinking problems he developed to bury his guilt over the fire that killed his brother. Not to mention the wild visions and smoky, sentient shadows that have plagued him his entire life. It's supposed to be the best Savannah has to offer, but one look at the crumbling tile floors and dangling crown mouldings, and Dean has his doubts. Enter Castiel Novak. He’s rude, aloof, and a total dick from the moment they lay eyes on each other but Dean can’t help but feel a mysterious connection to the man. Maybe he really has lost his mind. But when Castiel starts making appearances in Dean’s vivid visions of the past, he knows there is more to their link than meets the eye. Even if Cas keeps telling him otherwise. It seems everyone at Sword & Cross knows what’s going on except for Dean. Trying to conquer his mountain of guilt and doubt and figure out the connection he is certain he shares with Castiel is only made harder by the “accidents” that seem to follow him. Not to mention his attraction to Gadreel. Whatever secret Castiel is trying so hard to keep, Dean knows he has to uncover it.

Will you be my ten inch hero? | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 57468 Main Tags/Warnings: Bullying, Homophobic Language, Abusive John Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut, giving a baby to adoption (not between Destiel), Rape/Non-con Elements, John kicked Dean out, Virgin!Dean, surprise guest appereance, Minor Crowley (Supernatural)/Bobby Singer, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle, Minor Rowena MacLeod/Gabriel, two surprise pairings, not Ketch or Mick Davies friendly Summary: When John Winchester kicks Dean out, after he saw him kissing another boy, and Dean sees that Sam has a perfect life at Stanford without him, Dean starts a new life in Santa Cruz. He works at a tiny shop as a cook, has found some friends there, and is overall happy enough. That changes when Castiel comes into his shop and his Co-worker Azara, who has a different man every night, starts flirting with him right in front of Dean. Not that he would be jealous or anything, but there is something about Castiel that makes him weak in the knees. Only that Castiel would never want him back, right?

Roll With It | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 72818 Main Tags/Warnings: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Boss/Employee Relationship, Secretary Dean, Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, The Proposal AU, Alternate Universe, Romantic Comedy, Romance, Editor Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Sam Winchester at Stanford, POV Alternating, Geek Dean, Russian Castiel, Sharing a Bed, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, Misunderstandings, Tattooed Castiel, Love Confessions, Slow Burn Summary: For two years, Dean’s been slaving away beneath his boss – many label him a secretary, but he fucking hates that and feels like it only applies to someone wearing a pencil skirt, so he insists on his title of Executive Assistant. And for what? In the vain hope that one day he’ll manage to become an editor for Sandover Publishing, and that he’ll see the manuscript that he’s slaved over since college finally realized in print. That’s the dream, anyway. Right now, he’s fucking late. Dean wants to be an editor. Castiel just wants to stay in the country. ‘The Proposal’ – as you’ve never seen it before.

When the Magnolias bloom (WIP) | @flurryflair

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 92951 Main Tags/Warnings: slow burn, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, human!Castiel, divorce, infidelity, middle aged destiel, explicit sexual content, top Castiel/bottom Dean Winchester, top Dean Winchester/bottom Castiel, POV alternating, unresolved sexual tension, denial of feelings, porn with feelings, anxiety attacks, manipulative relationship, unhealthy coping mechanisms, canon-typical violence, case fic, bisexual!Dean, demisexual!Castiel, semi-canon, minor Castiel/OMC, minor Dean Winchester/Lisa Braeden Summary: It's been ten years since the Apocalypse. Ten years without talking, without knowing one another. Castiel has a company to handle and a wedding to plan, Dean has a broken marriage and a decision to make. They have separate lives, lovers and families of their own, they aren't supposed to meet again, to mess it all up. And yet they do, when they least expect it, and maybe when they most need it. A story about second chances, about hope and resilience, and a love that feels both doomed and inevitable.

Unsung Melody (WIP) | @toomanyships-sendhelp

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 177617 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Character Death, AU Slaves, Slow Burn Summary: Dean runs a busy bar and grill in Lebanon, Kansas. Semi-retired from hunting, he'll still catch a case when one blows his way or the urge to hunt strikes him again. It isnt until a case that opened decades ago claims another victim and Dean has to get back in the game a little more than he expected.

[hotchscotchh]

Reimagined; Chapter 10 - Beth Clemmons

Hehe >:)

Summary: Two years later...

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid

Warnings: NSFW, angst

Word Count:1.7k

Read on AO3

Chapter 9 ---- Chapter 11

Based 7x16, A Family Affair

Spencer Reid was pissed off. And he felt he had every right to be. Hotch had moved on. He had gone and found himself a goddamn girlfriend and brought her to this fucking triathlon Spencer didn’t want to come to in the first place. What joy did people get out of watching other people put themselves through hell? And what did the people participating get out of it? He didn’t see the point. He was already tired from babysitting the night before and had to get up early just to stand there for two hours waiting for Hotch to cross the finish line. Sure, he was enjoying the time with his coworkers outside of work, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t rather be home with Pluto and a large book.

Anyway, back to the main point. Beth. The name left a sour taste in his mouth. Hotch hadn’t spoken to him other than as a subordinate or a distant friend since that fateful day, almost two years ago now. Not even when Haley was killed. Spencer had lost count of the number of times he had tried to reach out to the man, tried to offer support, just to be shot down and told “I’m not ready for this yet, Reid.” The man couldn’t even stand to call Spencer by his first name anymore. And God, did that hurt. He hadn’t even tried for friendship again with Spencer, but here he was, introducing some woman he met to the team and his son. That’s what hurt the most. This woman was meeting Jack. Spencer hadn’t even met Jack. Not really. Not as anything more than that weird smart guy dad works with.

He wondered if Hotch had noticed how upset he was. Probably not, he was too focused on Beth. Morgan had though, and he was worried. About Spencer and Hotch. Morgan had been spending a lot more time with Spencer in the past two years than he ever had before. He knew that Spencer was going to need a distraction, so he recruited the young genius to “help” him with some of his renovation projects (he wasn’t very good at it). Recently, he’d started to take Spencer to bars. And the man was a hit at every single one of them; he didn’t think Spencer had spent a weekend (that they weren’t on a case, of course) alone in at least a year. People, mostly men, seemed to be drawn to his awkward self. Morgan couldn’t figure it out. Sure, Spencer was pretty, but he’d never seen him as “fuckable,” not like these people do.

This habit was what had him worried. All of the people he took home were like Hotch in some way. They always had dark hair and brown eyes. He almost never brought home a man that wasn’t wearing a suit. Morgan thought it was becoming unhealthy. He was concerned for his sexual health, though he knew Spencer wouldn’t keep a lifestyle like this without being screened regularly, but he was also concerned for his mental health. He was worried Hotch was becoming an obsession that Spencer would never get over. Everyone has an ex that takes a long time to get over, but this length of time was concerning.

He was worried for Hotch because he hadn’t made amends with Spencer and it was obviously weighing on his shoulders. Morgan was sure he was the only one that saw the long, lingering looks Spencer received when he wasn’t paying attention. He was the only one that saw they way Hotch had to restrain himself from casually reaching out and laying a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. The only one that saw how Hotch held him back in every conversation he had with the younger man, silently praying to one god r another that he wouldn’t screw up and say the wrong thing.

But here he was now. With Beth. Introducing her to the team. Rossi had a knowing smirk on his face that Morgan just wanted to punch off. He had a feeling Rossi was behind their “courtship,” but knowing for sure just made it worse. He was going to have a long talk with him later. Get him in on his “holy shit, I need to fix this because they’re to stupid to do it themselves” thoughts.

Spencer was trying to get out of going out to lunch with the rest of the team. He didn’t want the pain of seeing Hotch and Beth in a more casual setting, touching, kissing, being disgustingly domestic. Morgan, though, wasn’t having any of that. He knew Spencer seeing them together would push him to start getting over Hotch (finally), push him to finally confront his former lover, or just piss him off even more. He was hoping for one of the first two, obviously. So, when Spencer said, “okay guys, I’m going to head home. I haven’t been home since the beginning of the case and Pluto needs to be fed,” Morgan couldn’t help but come back with a “Oh, come on, Pretty Boy! It’ll be no fun without you. I’m sure your neighbor is keeping your cat nice and fed. And I know if you go home now you’re just going to eat poptarts, and I can’t let you do that and keep a clear conscious.”

Spencer glared for a few moments before sighing and shaking his head. “Fine.”

---

Half an hour later found them in a diner that could barely hold all of them, at least four tables pushed together, and sipping on Cokes and coffee. They had ordered and were waiting on their meals. Spencer was sitting as far as he possibly could from Hotch and Beth, Morgan sitting next to him.

“What’s going on in that big genius brain, Pretty Boy?”

Spencer abruptly pulled himself from his thoughts, startled by Morgan using his famed nickname. He dropped his head and looked at his hands which were drawing patterns on his legs. “I’m really pissed off, Derek. I thought he would have at least tried for friendship by now. It’s been two years, for god’s sake. I think I just realized that he’s not going to come to me. I need to talk to him, don’t I?” He looked back up at Derek, eyes brimming with tears Morgan knew he wouldn’t let fall.

“Yeah, Spencer. You do. I wish you had figured it out sooner. It’s been hard watching you go through this, but I was hoping you would figure it out for yourself. And, Spencer, look. They’re not acting like a couple. Hotch hasn’t touched her once. I think they really might just be training partners, and a friend he thought we might like.”

Spencer looked over and watched them for a few minutes. He nodded. He was going to say something more to Morgan, but their food was set down in front of them, cutting him off.

----

9 P.M. found Spencer knocking on Aaron Hotchner’s apartment door. He figured Jack would be asleep by now. He knew he probably looked pathetic standing there is his plaid pajama pants, t-shirt, and frayed cardigan, but he started speaking the moment Hotch opened the door, anyway.

“Are you fucking Beth?”

“Reid? What- I don’t think that’s really any of your business.” If Spencer thought he looked pathetic, then Aaron certainly did. He was dressed the same, without the cardigan, but he had red eyes and tear stained cheeks to add to the look.

“Answer the damn question, Hotch.”

Hotch just stared at the man in front of him for a few minutes, trying to decide if he wanted to punch him, kiss him, or just answer the question. He decided to go the less violent route. “No, Reid. I’m not fucking Beth. Is that all?”

Before Spencer knew what he was doing, he had moved forward, Aaron’s face in his hands, their lips pressed roughly together. He pushed Aaron backward and into the wall in his foyer, kicking the door shut behind him. He was surprised, though he shouldn’t have been, to find Aaron kissing him back. Aaron had quickly dominated the kiss, and was now flipping them so Spencer was the one pressed against the wall. Spencer’s hands slid from Aaron’s face down his front and up his shirt, fingers finding and brushing over the scars he had yet to see.

Aaron pulled away with a gasp. “Is this okay?” Aaron nodded and attached his lips to Spencer’s neck. Spencer threw his head back with a groan. Aaron pulled them away from the wall and over to the couch, unbuttoning Spencer’s shirt on the way there. Spencer slid out of his pajama pants before pushing Aaron back onto the couch and straddling his lap. There was something extremely erotic about being mostly naked while Aaron was still fully clothed. They immediately resumed their kissing and groping, Spencer grinding down into Aaron’s crotch. Aaron reached over to the drawer in the table next to the couch where he knew condoms and lube still resided (he hadn’t been able to make himself move them).

Aaron coated his fingers in lube and reached into Spencer’s boxers, not hesitating before pressing his finger all they way inside Spencer, earning him an obscene moan. He covered Spencer’s mouth with his other had. “Shh, Jack is sleeping.” Spencer nodded. Aaron thrusted his finger in and out of Spencer for a few moments, carefully avoiding his prostate, and enjoying the small gasps and stifled moans he was receiving. “Can you take me with just this?” Spencer nodded again. Aaron pulled his finger out and lifted his hips to pull down his pajama pants just enough to release his straining erection. He tore the wrapper of the condom with his teeth and rolled the condom onto his cock. He covered Spencer’s mouth with his hand before he lined up and started to press in, earning him a long, stifled moan. The rocked together, hot and rough, before quickly finding their release.

When they had calmed down enough, Aaron left to the bathroom to find a rag to clean them with. He did, and proceeded to pull Spencer to the bedroom with him, Spencer too tired to object. They laid together, Aaron holding Spencer tight to his body. Sleep found them both easily that night.

But, Aaron woke to a bed containing nothing but a note that read “talk later.”

Taglist: @wheelsup @endingsbeginnings 

[xlady-saya]

i’ve had a love of my own [ch 1]

Relationships: andrew/neil

Summary: Despite everything Neil could’ve imagined for his life, he never thought he’d be here, finally giving the world the interview they’ve always wanted.

It’s been decades, but even with his numerous accolades and sports wins, he finds that they’re the least important thing about his life.

Neil can’t help but laugh. Andrew would be so annoyed if he were here.

Of course, Neil only wants to talk about him, and the life they spent together.

Tags: interviews, post canon, major character death but not how u think I swear lol, neil is an old man retelling his memories about andrew, cheesy romance, post retirement, see more tags on ao3

Read on ao3!

Neil pricks himself on the old Palmetto pin as he fixes it to his collar, jabbing the same spot on his thumb he hit just a week before.

He hardly winces at the feeling these days, and for a long time, Matt joked about how he really couldn't go a day without attracting some form of violence. Neil smiles at the thought, because it's far from the truth. He stands by the claim he never asked for fights, simply had no problem finishing them.

"You mean letting me finish them," Andrew would quip, and they'd go back and forth all over again in a never-ending argument. It's so never-ending, Neil goes through the motions of it even now, however many decades later.

This pin tends to start it, since it's the only remotely dangerous thing he owns now. The orange is still bright and obnoxious, with criss crossing Exy racquets in a bright white. He's memorized the raised edges, tilted from old age. The once silver backing has rust spots, but no one ever sees that part. It has its reputation intact, and Neil smiles sardonically.

It's not the only thing that's been worn down, but he likes to think he doesn't look as bad as he could too. Laughing at his own joke, he taps the pin lightly. It's apparently vintage now, according to Allison, since the new Palmetto merch has drifted into neon territory.

Neil is glad he kept his own. It's especially important today, he thinks, that he shows as much fondness for the past as possible. Though, it's not for his sake. His room is nothing but littered with the tokens of the past.

Sighing, he stares fondly out across the living room, the walls haphazardly decorated with old, signed jerseys his friends used to wear. He has one from each of their old teams, but picked his favorites to go up on the wall. The rest sit in storage, ready to be auctioned off whenever he decides living is too much of a chore. Above the mantle, Andrew's racquet from his last team hangs in a shadow box. Then below it, framed pictures which Neil tries to rotate as best he can, some of them shitty ones converted from his phone camera. Mostly, they're of his Foxes at various points in their lives. The only two photos which stay the same are the one he took with Andrew and Kevin at the Olympics, and the snapshot of him and Andrew at the airport in his first year at Palmetto.

If he had to catalog the room, that would barely scratch the surface. He's pages away from mentioning Nicky's terribly made mugs, Betsy's first editions, and cookie tins filled with postcards Katelyn and Aaron sent twenty years ago.

Most of the time, the untidy collection of junk surrounding him is a comfort. It makes the small apartment feel like home, or as close as he can get when he's by himself. He swears some of the items still carry the unique scents of grass stains and floor polish, or Allison's perfume and the glitter glue from Dan and Matt's kids.

When that fails him, the candle he has in every room does the trick to fill in the blanks. Andrew used the same scent for over half their life together: breakfast pancakes. It's sickly sweet and stains the furniture, and Neil loves nothing more than to bury his face in the cushions after a day of having them lit.

These are the things that ground him, that keep him in place, but today he feels fidgety for the first time in years. He shouldn't be, he thinks, laughing to himself. He planned this after all, it's just...

Well, he's never been the best at talking to people.

There's a knock at his door, and the cuckoo clock on the wall (shockingly, that one is his fault) tells him it's right on schedule. Neil sighs, slipping his feet into the white slippers beneath him. "Come in, Sydney."

The nurse on his floor opens the door to his apartment with a smile, too fresh faced and early for this time of day. She’s young, and she's always been a bit cheery for his taste, but she reminds him of Katelyn and he allows it. In the last few years, when Andrew's migraines prevented him from reading, she'd bring him audiobook gift cards.

She smiles bright, and he gives her that look for her to cut it out. At this point, she's less put off by it and more amused. He only tells her to save the smiles because if she doesn't she'll have wrinkles like him years from now. He hates how much he sounds like Allison.

Neil hardly looks in the mirror anymore, but this morning he put in some effort. He looks as perpetually tired as he always looked back in the day, except now his eye bags are accompanied by wrinkles that form their own topographical map on his face.

At least he didn't lose all his hair.

The only thing is his blue eyes are as piercing as ever, so coupled with the grandpa look, he's quite intimidating. Not that he needs to be, but it's nice to feel a little capable when he can barely walk by himself anymore.

"Morning, Mr. Josten," Sydney greets, untucking the wheelchair from behind the door and pushing it over to him. He makes sure to grab Andrew's favorite crochet blanket. He hates messing with it, but he thinks the smell of nicotine it carries will help him today. Refresh his memory.

Neil grumbles, but lets her help him into the chair. He has on his good lounge pants, without holes, and his old Palmetto sweater. "I told you years ago I hate being called that."

"Because it makes you feel old," she jabs, teasing lightly. Even still, she's gentle when she places the blanket over his lap and hands him his glasses. "I have to keep you in line somehow."

"Ha-ha."

As she wheels him out of his room, he starts fidgeting again. He's used to exploring the luxury nursing home on his own time, not because he has somewhere to be. He hasn't had somewhere to be since...well, he hates thinking about that, lest he run into a memory that hurts more than helps.

Today isn't the day for that.

Some other, more able-bodied residents pass by him on foot, waving amicably and knowing better than to expect a wave back. Shockingly, he's well liked here, probably because he doesn't have rowdy grandkids who break the peace. Plus, he's pretty sure some of them are old fans.

Sydney leans down as they pass through the common area and into one of the meeting rooms, the spotless linoleum floor throwing him off as usual. He never would've picked a place so expensive and fancy for himself, but Andrew was always someone with classy tastes. "Ready for today?"

At the reminder, Neil wrings his fingers together. Not advised by his doctor, but fuck that guy. "As ready as I'll ever be," he says, glaring at the glass doors ahead. Sydney laughs, placing him at the end of a large table. The meeting room creeps him out, since it's mostly used for family meetings or will planning appointments. Sound proof, silent.

"Oh hush, you're a famous athlete, I'm sure you've faced worse," she chides, pouring him a glass of water without any ice. Because he's a fiend. Neil rolls his eyes; she has no idea. He's threatened countless reporters before for stepping even a toe out of line, but some recent college grads from an indie publication are making him sweat more than an Exy game. Sydney makes a show of whispering behind her hand. "Besides, I heard from Gabe at the front desk they look terrified, so go easy on them, yes? Can't have another cafeteria incident."

Ugh, not that again.

"You have no witnesses," he waves off, leaning back in his seat while Sydney sets the break in place. Only then is he hit with a wave of calm, fondness even. His quivering hands curl as best they can in the blanket, the ghost of a grip, and he smiles out across the room. Ah, he can't be doing this already, but it's hard to help. He itches for the smell of a cigarette, a press on the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he tries his best to feel it. "Besides, once they know why they're really here they won't be nearly so stressed. Hell, they might even be disappointed."

He tries not to grimace at that, but for the time he's giving them and the paperwork he made them sign, they're going to sit and listen to his old man ravings all day or so help him--

He feels a hand brush against his, and when he looks Sydney is there. She squeezes his fingers in hers, smile fond and weighed down with a sadness so foreign, he nearly regrets telling her to cut it out. But no, he understands. He's the one who understands the most. She grazes the fabric of the blanket as she pulls away, breathing in the same smoke he can for just a moment. "No, I don't think that's possible."

She doesn't give Neil time to doubt himself, not that he could. He can never doubt anything when it comes to Andrew, no matter how much the blond secretly doubted about himself. Neil always teased him for that, and his living oxymoron ways.

Neil's biggest goal of the day is to piss off Andrew's ghost as much as humanly possible, and his grin is nearly splitting at the thought. Fine, mission active.

"Good luck!" Sydney calls as she leaves the meeting room, and he watches her gesture to his guests once they arrive through the glass doors.

Oh shit, they really do look terrified.

The two interviewers see him through the door and Neil can only assume they shit a brick. They're young, can't be more than a few years out of university, dressed way too professionally for someone as uncaring as Neil. They could've shown up in clown costumes for all he cared, at least he would've gotten a good laugh.

The young man fumbles with the door and his companion rushes forward a little too fast before correcting herself. Jeez.

Neil does his best to hide his laugh, not that he's ever been polite. It's more...

Their terror is Neil's fault. He started declining interviews soon after he retired, letting his name and lifestyle fade into mystery and speculation with the public. Kevin had not been happy about it, since to this day he and Thea are in the public eye, commentating on Exy games, doing talk shows, helping curate museums, blah, blah, blah...

Neil didn't have time for that.

He never thought he'd be okay with slipping back into unknown status after so many years of being seen, being cheered for, but when the time came it was an easy choice. Andrew made it so. Neil had his time to be free, to do whatever he wanted and play the sport he loved. But ultimately, when he no longer could, fucking off to do whatever he wanted with Andrew sounded way better than dealing with reporters and overzealous fans.

Just because he became an unknown though, doesn't mean he faded into obscurity. According to Allison, his life has been quite a hot button issue in the community for over a decade. People want to know where he's been, what he did during those years, how he looks back on the past, everything. It's been obnoxious.

Popular sports magazines and large publications have practically been clawing for a piece of him for years, and he's never given in no matter how many fruit bouquets they sent or how many checks they tried to write him. Though, one almost got him purely because they kept sending gourmet chocolates, and if Andrew was a glutton before, old age only made it worse.

So, Neil Josten is back to being a subject of interest for some reason, someone people want to know everything about. For him to randomly call up a dying indie magazine and offer them full rights to an interview under his specific terms surely threw the sports world into a fucking whirl.

Whatever.

He's going to share what he wants to share. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Mr. Jo--" The first reporter clears his throat, passing his notepad and phone over to his other hand before outstretching one to Neil. "Mr. Josten. It's such an honor to meet you, um, wow. I'm Blake, and this is Rayah. We're so grateful for being granted the opportunity to interview you. You're a legend!"

Neil stares at the outstretched hand like he doesn't know what to do with it, and as much as he does know what's expected of him, part of his hesitation is equal parts his disinterest and the fact he doesn't talk to anyone but his remaining family these days. Well, and Sydney.

Blake swallows and drops his hand, surely admonishing himself for his own stupidity.

Rayah saves him. "Um, we really are appreciative, sir," she says, laying out some notepads and setting up her recorder. Old school, Neil appreciates it. It's better than cameras and microphones. "We're still in shock honestly. We were theorizing on why you picked us the entire drive up here!"

"Neil is fine, and don't bother with small talk I know it's not why you're here," he says then, smiling at her words. They both flinch, taken aback. He's not sure why they'd be expecting a Kevin Day type. He has a record for being too blunt and argumentative for his own good. He's right though; they're here for answers, not discussions on how he's doing or what he does for fun in his not so humble nursing home. In much the same vein, he promised honesty, so he'll give it from the start. "I picked you precisely because you're unknown and failing."

They freeze, but they're clearly not Foxes. If they were, they'd immediately get indignant and glare, hold themselves back from punching a helpless old man. Oh, those were the good ol' days.

When Rayah fumbles for a response, a logic, Neil simply shrugs. "I like the underdogs."

He doesn't intend it to be, but it's a tension breaker. The stiffness in the reporters' shoulders deflate with a laugh, and they finally get back to organizing themselves without looking like they want to run for the hills and beg ESPN to take over.

"As your history suggests," Blake jokes, and Neil rewards him with a grin, tapping his Foxes pin.

He doesn't mention the fact Andrew would've never spoken to him had he gone to some trashy magazine, and that Andrew was always a bit of a rebel himself, though he hated to admit to any kind of urge that didn't involve Neil, sweets, or fancy cars.

Neil takes the free moment to wrap his blanket around his shoulders, letting the ingrained smell of ash permeate around him. Much better, he can think so much clearer like this.

As they finish setting up and take their seats across from him, Blake taps his pencil against the rim of his notepad. It looks like he almost wants to launch back into small talk, but thinks better of it when he remembers Neil's words. Considerate, a good listener. Just what Neil needs today.

Blake clears his throat, cutting through the bullshit. "Now, we know you have specific terms for how you want to lead this interview, which we're completely fine with. Wherever you want to start, we'll follow."

And with that, they sit back, unsure but ready to catch whatever morsel of information might fall from Neil's lips. Again, he finds himself fighting a smirk.

Of course, he led these people astray a bit, but he doesn't see the problem with having a little fun before revealing his true intentions.

He nods, pushing down the giddy feeling that always comes with talking about Andrew. Not yet, but soon.

"Hm, I assume you prepared some questions just in case," Neil asks, taking a sip of his water.

Rayah blinks, exchanging a look with Blake. She rifles through her notepad to a page in the middle, scribbled and stained with ink. There are so many questions on it, some of them curve over the others in a painful word twister. "Uh yes but, we didn't think you'd want to answer them," she guesses.

She's correct.

Neil loathes interview questions, because they're predictable. But in this case, he'll let the first one lead him down the road.

Neil relents, leaning back in his wheelchair. "Well you're mostly right, but why don't you ask me your first one?" He offers, and they look positively ecstatic. "That'll get me started."

And once he starts, he doubts he'll be able to stop.

"Sure." Blake clears his throat, making sure his recorder is functioning properly. When he's satisfied, he leans back, mirroring Neil's posture, though the rigidity is still there. If he doesn't lighten up, he's going to have back pains for days. "Now, there have been a lot of milestones in your career as a pro athlete. No one would dream of disputing your skill in the sport, or how you earned any of your countless awards--"

"Flattery," Neil warns, raising a single finger. That's not what he's here for either. In fact, as much as this is his interview, it's not about him at all.

"Right," Blake says with a huff of a laugh. "But surely one of your brightest moments was your historic win at the Olympics. It was talked about for months within the community. Of course, any true Exy fan knows the details of the game, it was only covered by every major publication. So, I guess our question is, what do you most remember about that moment? Was it as monumental for you as it was for Exy fans?"

Ah, a predictable question, but also not a bad place to begin. Neil doesn't fight the edge of the smirk that appears, though he does raise his thumb to swipe at it. It's been a while since he's felt so mischievous, it's so difficult to be, well, difficult when you're being wheeled around all day.

It was a monumental moment for him, though maybe not for the reasons everyone else would think.

"You certainly did your research," he comments, humming as he sits back in thought. He already knows his answer, but he's weak, and the feelings the memory evokes barely need to push him to send him careening off balance. Swept up. "Not sure what I was expecting from people so young, but my apologies for making assumptions."

He's glad they didn't ask the question in the stereotypical format, fishing for ways to brag and make it all about him. When he thinks of that time, as proud as he was, it's not his own praise that comes to mind.

With that in mind, Neil sighs.

"I don't think it was an exaggeration to say that was one of the best days of my life," he admits, and it's the truth. He's not here to lie. Come to think of it, he hasn't lied once since Andrew ran on ahead of him. Smiling, Neil lets the words flow.

"It was important to me, but not all because of the Olympics themselves..."

--

Neil rarely has time to pay attention in Exy games, as horrible and inefficient as that sounds.

His feet move on their own accord like a well-oiled machine, cogs and steam rushing through him to propel him across the court at record speeds. And they are record speeds.

That's why he's here isn't it? To run, to score.

It had been overwhelming when he first arrived, the sheer size of the Exy court at the Olympics. It's surrounded by flags from all over the world, bright neon signs and sponsorships. The lights at the entrance had been so vibrant, he made the mistake of looking up at them.

Blinding.

All aspects about it are, because as much as Neil knows this is his life, it can't possibly be reality.

The crowd makes the one at the Ravens' stadium seem minuscule, out of its league with seats and aisles that almost climb up to the heavens. The crowd roars and Neil feels every cheer and stomp echo against his bones.

He never thought he'd be here, but despite the gravity of it, he no longer has the time nor want to dwell on it. All that matters is his team, and getting them the gold.

Being with Andrew afterwards...getting to see Wymack smile proudly at Kevin.

Letting Kevin be proud of himself.

And Neil is an Olympic-qualified player, so with all that in mind, he delivers the second best game of his life. Even in the final seconds of the second half, even when he's been body checked so many times the nuts and bolts he imagines inside him must surely be worn and off-kilter, he doesn't stop moving. Everything is instinct, from the force of his steps to the last minute shifts he needs to intercept the ball.

It's not Kevin's perfect strategy, it's not a map or an out of body experience where he can see where every player on the court is.

He has no idea what's going on outside of what's in front of him, no awareness of anything but the immediate threats and a certain beacon, standing in the goal.

And that's the hardest part of it all, not being able to look over at Andrew for even a moment after he scores, because the game is fast and ruthless, and he has twice the energy of anyone on this court.

It's a stupid way to play, if he's really supposed to be Kevin's double. But they all long since established he is far from it. He has his own passion, his own drive, and Kevin trusts Neil with his life on the court.

Probably through anything.

So when he sees the perfect opportunity for a final interception, a chance to get them the last winning goal of the game, he's surprised that it's the one moment where it all comes to a stop. He's never had the experience before; normally his body snaps into action. He's not used to comprehending things until they're said and done.

He thinks his body is still following through though, turning in just the right way, making sure he's lined up.

But Neil is aware of so much more, his eyes train like a predator's on the goal, and he understands. He has a choice.

Choices are a weird luxury now, but he's gotten so used to having the freedom of them, he's forgotten the sheer magnitude they can carry.

His eyes snap to the goal, and then to Kevin. Kevin, who is so much closer, and already looking right at Neil.

And Neil never describes himself as fond towards most people, but he can say it proudly in that moment. This is the Kevin Day he likes to see.

Green eyes stare back, blown wide with a fire that can't be matched by anyone, probably not even his own mother, maybe not even Neil. A true, unadulterated love for this violent, freeing sport. Kevin catches Neil's eyes through his face guard, forehead drenched in sweat but his entire being rings with energy, ready and unwilling to quit until the buzzer sounds.

A Fox, at heart. Neil knows Andrew can see from where he's standing in goal, and Neil knows he's just as satisfied, deep down. It might give him some peace of mind too, to know Kevin kept his spine.

Neil puts all of those emotions into his last movement of the game.

He inclines his head just so, and that's it.

Kevin moves.

As Neil's racquet intercepts the ball from the other team's striker, he can't help but be a bit smug as he takes a powerful step forward. He can hear the painful slide of his shoes against the court floor, the heat of being too close, too exposed.

His legs will surely be shot after this, but no matter.

Kevin Day was always meant to be the greatest player in the history of Exy, the reigning queen, despite the arrogance they'll surely have to hear non-stop about. Fine. It's only fair that Neil help him achieve that goal here, at the biggest stadium in the world.

(By no means the best one, but still).

The clock gets down to five seconds, the beats resounding off the walls of his skull. Neil swings his racquet with such force the strings whistle, and the ball moves in a straight line directly into Kevin's. The other striker has zero time to react, the force of Neil's brutal cut off sending him stumbling. The ball hits Kevin's strings hard, Kevin's grip tightening around his racquet to keep it close to him.

Kevin doesn't hesitate longer than that.

He shoots at the goal in one fluid arch, and scores.

As confident as Neil is in Kevin's aim and skill, he'll admit his stomach swoops. It's a feeling that never truly goes away, much like the instincts that keep him moving. He wouldn't trade it for anything, that millisecond exhilaration before it comes together.

Because well, at one point nothing ever fell into place for him.

In the flash where the ball hits the net, Neil feels the ghost of a key in his palm, reminding him when that changed. The buzzer of the countdown blares, and all that anticipation meets a well-deserved end.

The stadium erupts until not even the buzzer can be heard. There's a swish of plexiglass doors, the sounds of their coach yelling in triumph, but Neil's body is too spent to react.

Neil's heart constricts in his chest as he tries to get air in, but it's impossible. Satisfied doesn't even begin to cover it, though he's sure he looks just as breathless as Kevin does, staring at the goal as it lights up. The world moves around him, respecting his moment of privacy when they should be hoisting him up and not allowing him a minute of disbelief. Neil's glad they don't; Kevin deserves to look surprised once in a while.

His teammates pile on each other, clapping him as they pass. A lot of them are still in shock, a few fall to their knees right away, but Neil feels nothing but fulfilled.

He made the right call.

His body sags, stinging, and he feels Andrew's gaze pinning him upright from across the court. It's the only thing that gets him walking, but he wills himself not to look in his boyfriend's direction.

If he does well...nothing else will matter, and there's one thing he has to do.

In a haze, he goes over to Kevin, who turns, sensing him. Neil shakes his head at Kevin's arrogance to this day, because even though Kevin is the one who made this possible for him, who came to him first...

Well, he still lets Neil do all the work. Neil laughs and hugs Kevin fiercely, barely keeping himself upright, and they trade the trembling in their bodies. Kevin drops his racquet, their height difference making them look all the more pathetic. He can hear Andrew's voice already, telling them they're too emotional about a damn sport.

Somehow, that makes Neil even happier, and he leans back as Kevin pries his helmet off, eyes wild and smiling.

Yes, the right choice. Absolutely.

"We did it," Kevin says, but not in disbelief. He had to have known they'd always make it here. "We did it."

Neil squeezes his friend's shoulder and grins, uncaring of what camera catches it. He's too damn happy to care. "Guess we did."

The crowd cheers so loud Neil can't hear more than a faint buzz in his ears, and the sticky scent of gatorade and sweat is an unfortunate addition. The cameras flash and shine obnoxiously through the double plexiglass to bathe them in light and attention.

Yet, with his legs feeling like jelly and his muscles stretched to the limits, there's only one thing he really wants. What he always wants.

Warmth, safety, something to lean on and keep him sheltered from the world before facing it alongside him. Neil hates that before, the only thing he yearned for was to play Exy. He thought that was bad.

This is so much worse.

Biting his lip, Neil turns to where Andrew is standing in the goal, already looking at him from across the court. And Andrew, with all his control, keeps himself planted there. Neil's breathing hiccups loudly, and Kevin's probably the only one who hears it over the cacophony.

Neil doesn't think he can cry anymore, but his eyes tighten up, he has to blink the pain away.

Neil wonders if Andrew's gripping his racquet hard enough to damage it, if he's digging his heels into the ground like Neil is.

Neil swallows down the lump in his throat. Suddenly, he hates the cameras more than usual; he's torn between wanting them to vanish completely, or wishing they paid as much attention to Andrew, because god, he's earned it.

Neil digs his heels in harder.

I want to be with you.

It's such a simple string of thought; it has crossed his mind so many times before, but never has the urge hurt so much. It has nothing to do with all he's worked for, with the fame and recognition this win will bring him. It's just Andrew.

He hasn't had a knife to his skin in years, but this reminds him of the piercing of flesh, lighting his nerves on end and sending him towards the source of his relief, his contentment.

Andrew played so well, so well, not just here. He worked his way through the pros until he got to Neil, worked his ass off for his reputation. He qualified with the rest of them to be here.

And tonight, he blocked almost every shot at his goal.

Neil closes his eyes, willing himself to calm down but he can't. This is one of the best moments of his life. If he can't share it with Andrew to the fullest, what was the point of everything in his past?

They're not out. That's the problem, he knows, as much as he doesn't give a single fuck. No one outside their family and management knows anything about them, apart from some tabloid rumors about their intense dislike of one another. If that doesn't prove how clueless the media is, Neil doesn't know what does.

And as much as they value privacy, as much as their peaceful bubble is enough, it's moments like these where Neil wants to take and show no matter the consequences.

He looks to Kevin, unsure. It's always been him, the one who warned them about the backlash they'd face despite his acceptance of their relationship years ago.

Neil expects the same thing here: the subtle shake of Kevin's head, the concern in his eyes for their careers and future. It used to piss Neil off to no end, but Kevin communicates all emotion through Exy, even concern. Neil's learned to read between those infuriating lines. The importance of career translates to 'without your career, there is no you.' Sometimes he forgets he's not entirely free.

And if he weren't around, then Andrew...

'You can't leave him.'

And so, knowing Kevin's language, Neil stayed in line, and he expects that same advice today. To his surprise though, it never comes. Kevin is looking at him, tired smile firmly in place as he nudges a shoulder in Andrew's direction. Neil's mouth falls open, and yes, he's convinced now. It's a dream, it's all one big dream. Except--

Kevin shakes his head. It's not resigned, or worried. He's just happy for them both. He pushes Neil away, straightening his back in preparation for his fans. Royal snob. "Go on already. You guys are gross."

And despite the laugh that falls from his mouth, Neil's breathing stutters, and he hadn't realized how wound up he truly was until it happens. His lungs fill with air and he throws his racquet to the ground. His self-control is poor, they all know that. Encouragement is all he needs to break him and send him where he belongs.

He takes off in a full sprint towards Andrew as the rest of his teammates crowd Kevin, looking after Neil in confusion.

Huh, so his muscles still work after all. The tendons are on fire, but it's the least of his concerns. He runs like his life depends on it again, faster than he ran during that whole game.

And to Neil's absolute delight, Andrew's body language screams 'finally.'

The blond takes a step forward, throwing his racquet to the side like it's worthless. Oh. Andrew's bracing to catch him, and Neil laughs at the realization as he throws off his helmet. One day he'll actually make Andrew fall over, but for now he enjoys the strength.

He jumps into Andrew's arms effortlessly, feels calloused hands wrap around his waist as Neil reaches for the clips of Andrew's helmet. Despite knowing the barrier is there as he fumbles with it, he leans forward, lips grazing the metal guard. Andrew huffs, and Neil claws until the helmet clatters to the floor. He throws it a bit far, and it hits the goal post with a clang, but he doesn't care in the moment. If all eyes are on them now, he can't feel them. They're in a vacuum, a side effect of being so taken with Andrew at times. Unaware, vulnerable. The rush of sound from before goes dead around them. His fingertips can feel overheated skin, can trace the barely-there freckles on Andrew's face.

Andrew isn't in the mood to let Neil admire today.

Neil barely gets to see the color in Andrew's eyes before the goalie's hand grips in between Neil's shoulder blades, pulling him down.

It reminds him of their first kiss; Neil catches Andrew's lips and, as if not believing they're real, that something could feel so wonderful, he pulls back. His eyes widen, the first hit of a drug. He breaks the kiss only to dive right back in, uncoordinated but so sure of himself. And he doesn't get how, but Andrew smells the same as back then. Less like cigarettes, but the same smell of leather and earthiness. Neil doesn't read nearly as much as Andrew does to have the capability of describing it, but it's refreshing, like soil after the rain. Through the sweat and exhaustion, Neil would know him anywhere.

Andrew opens his mouth for him first, breath hot but movements predictable. Neil will tease him later for that. You're getting old. Because the dance is so familiar, the way Andrew pushes Neil's tongue back first. 'Come and get me.'

Neil obliges every single time, because he can't back down from a challenge, and maybe he's getting old too.

Neil knows the kiss can't last forever, especially not here, but he allows himself to pretend it's not the case. Andrew hums into him, and Neil's hands feel all the vibrations from where his hand slips down to Andrew's throat. It's bared completely for him, and Neil gives a little squeeze.

He sighs into Andrew's mouth when his boyfriend's eyes open to glare at him, pulling back before kissing Neil again, and then one more time, and maybe just once...

One more, Neil thinks, brushing his lips against Andrew's so lightly they stick for a moment, and he licks his own slowly when he pulls back for the final time. His heart beats in his ribcage, or maybe that's the pounding of the reporters' feet as they rush through the stadium, he's not sure.

Again, it's always best for him to not look at Andrew if he's supposed to be doing something else, because in that moment, the blond has all Neil's attention.

They're already pressed chest to chest, but Andrew squeezes tighter, almost painful, keeping Neil there through the flashing of cameras and shocked cheers.

And while Andrew's expression gives nothing away for the public, it speaks volumes to Neil.

--

Neil didn't know what old meant back then, now that his legs give out after a good walk or his spine aches under the weight of nothing.

But they were predictable, that much was true.

Neil isn't looking at the reporters anymore, too focused on trying to weave the fraying threads of the blanket back into place. From their silence, he can guess they're as shocked as he expected them to be.

Unaffected, Neil reaches over for his water, taking a sip as he confronts their slack jaws and wide eyes.

Now, that might have been a bit unfair of him as well, to jump into such a blatant romantic recollection about Andrew. Again, Neil never took interviews, rarely took questions, but the subject of his relationship with Andrew was especially off limits for decades. What they had was theirs, and only theirs, even after outing themselves that day.

People naturally tried to pry, tried to dig up their past in hopes of justifying what they saw as a nonsensical relationship or gossip fuel.

Neil made them fear for their lives after that.

He eviscerated publications, reporters, top sports officials, talk shows hosts, pretty much whoever he needed to. Anything to keep Andrew's name out of their mouths. A lot of them sealed their place in the land of irrelevancy, media outlets were slammed by a combination of their fans, and Kevin's too, once he stood up in support.

Andrew always hated it, Neil's desperate need to protect him from words that no longer phased him, but Neil didn't care. It was one of the only things they fought about in their adult years.

It worked though; soon, all the major outlets aside from the tabloids stopped talking about it, knowing mentioning it in any way that wasn't positive or neutral would land them in a ton of hot water.

Even those online sources who refused to let up eventually fizzed out from lack of material; they tried their best to be nosy, but pretty much got nothing but some rare paparazzi photos a few times a year of them kissing in the park or on a date.

In short, it's a bit of an unspoken rule that you don't talk to Neil Josten about Andrew Minyard unless you have nothing but good things to say, and a lot of people are too chicken shit to take the risk and potentially insult him. That's the only disappointing thing, none of them have a shred of courage. Neil really would talk all day about Andrew if people just approached it correctly.

Not that Andrew would've allowed it when he was alive.

Take that.

Despite all the fear Neil instilled in the media, it never stopped the other famous Foxes from talking about how gooey and devoted he and Andrew were, but Neil let that slide.

The things he does for family.

So it makes sense that these reporters seemed to have forgotten Andrew's importance at all, another offense. Not just because he was the best goalie in Exy history, but because Neil was first and foremost, Andrew's.

Blake's mouth opens and closes, pen dangling precariously from his hand. "Are...are we allowed to ask about Andrew?"

Blake even flinches after he asks it, afraid that perhaps it's only okay for Neil to bring up.

If you only knew.

Neil laughs, too relaxed to hold back anymore. The reporters stare, exchanging nervous glances with excitement tingling below the surface.

Yes, he supposes details about his relationship with Andrew are more secretive and sought after than even Neil's opinions. The reporters weren't even going to try.

But now, there's morsels of information dangling in front of them, and Neil need only give them permission. It's their lucky day.

Neil's smile fades into something gentler, wistful. It's the closest he gets now, to how he looked at Andrew. But it's still different, because that expression...

Well, Andrew is gone. What more is there to say?

Neil leans back, wringing his hands softly. "I guess it's only fair that I tell you the real reason I accepted this interview."

The reporters lean forward, holding their breath, but Neil doesn't feel like making them wait. It's all about Andrew now, like he wanted it to be. "I want to talk about Andrew, plain and simple."

Except when it's not.

Their relationship was anything but simple but Neil cherished each memory, and he wants to speak them aloud so no one forgets. He wants everyone to know how important this person was to him, so when he's gone and can't defend them, people can't speculate or taint it with their unasked for opinions.

"I've never had the opportunity to really reminisce about Andrew, not even with my family," Neil admits. He and Aaron and Katelyn would sit around the fireplace at their home sometimes, telling stories, or Kevin would send him old pictures or clips of Andrew playing. But never the intimate details, never the raw, and at times complicated feelings. "It never felt right, even after he was gone. I wanted to keep it close still, so I wouldn't betray Andrew's trust."

Neil takes a deep breath, and it shakes his small frame, a cough escaping his lungs. His voice is rough, but no less sure when he continues. "But I know now what he'd say to that. That I couldn't, even if my dumb Exy brain tried really hard."

But he'd never.

He smiles, wiping his eyes when they aren't even wet. That's another thing he misunderstood back then. Neil thought he couldn't cry, but he's sure today he'll prove his younger self wrong.

Rayah and Blake stay silent through all of Neil's pauses, and the respect means more than he can say. Andrew would approve, he'd be okay with Neil's choice. That's what matters most, he thinks.

"For once I just want everyone to know how I felt, I want to tell you everything as I saw and felt it, so you can tell everyone else," Neil says, and hopes they can read between the lines for the rest. Ultimately, when he's dead he'll be nothing but bones in the dirt, his legacy won't mean much in the long run. But...if nothing else, he wants this to remain, for as long as it can.

He never cared before about it, but he guesses age really can put a new perspective on things. Neil sighs, and taps the table with his finger for lack of anything better to do. When he looks back up, he has their undivided attention, Rayah's brown eyes shining with unshed emotion. None of that, not yet. "Anyways, now that you know I misled you, I hope you're still alright with listening to me ramble for the next few hours."

If not, they can kindly fuck off, but Neil has his suspicions at this point that they'll stick around. As much as Neil prides himself on reading people's intentions well, he's quite horrible at reading people's feelings. But maybe he's improved in that arena too.

A price for everything, he thinks ruefully, reminding himself there's a break in between this session for him to take his pain pills.

Eventually, it's Rayah who stutters a response. "Of course it's alright! We're so honored! And not just in the...bullshit way."

She closes her mouth immediately after at the unprofessionalism of it, but it only makes Neil feel more at ease. He smirks, satisfied. "Noted."

"Mr. Jo--Neil, we really are happy to write about you and Andrew but I have to admit," Blake says, flipping through his notepad with a tight look on his face. "The questions we did prepare as backup don't exactly lend themselves to anything about your life with Andrew."

It's precisely why Neil stated he'd mostly be doing the talking initially, but their first test question actually did end up helping move him along, so...

Neil shrugs, gesturing to the notebook with fierce determination.

These people are about to learn...

He can make anything about Andrew.

When he smiles at the two of them again, they must feel it deep down. They return it tenfold, and then Rayah clicks her pen.

And with the pleasantries out of the way, Neil opens up to everything he's been keeping locked away.

"Try me."

[rave-recs]

all time fav tfc fics

Way Down We Go by nekojita

620,923 / explicit / andreil / 46/46

How would things be different if Nathaniel and his mother had been in Seattle early enough to put him in California the same time as Andrew? What if their paths had crossed back then? What if Andrew's first promise wasn't to Aaron but to Nathaniel?

Armies by nekojita

341,919 / explicit / andreil / 20/20

Upon Mary Hatford's death, Nathaniel Wesninski makes the call to his uncle Stuart rather than continuing on the run and ending up in Milport, Nevada. Upon graduating university, Andrew Minyard turns down all offers of a professional Exy career and muddles through a 'normal' life, until the boredom and inanity of it all wears him down and he accepts an offer of a break to spend some time with his cousin Nicky in Stuttgart, Germany. There he meets Abram Hatford, a handsome and broken young man who has more in common with Andrew than he suspects, and nothing's normal anymore.

The First Breath by nekojita

180,525 / mature / andreil / 18/18

Death is presented with an interesting challenge - to live among the humans whom he finds so confusing for a short time. Normally he wouldn't consider such a thing, content to spend his days constantly wandering around while doing his job (and avoiding his father, Destruction), but this time, he's found one human in particular to be of interest so he decides to give it a try, to stay in one place for at least a few days. What can go wrong?

Only a Fury and a Virtue (or three) are determined to 'help' him out, for reasons of their own, and nothing is ever simple when so many powers that be start plotting. Death may very well regret giving in to his curiosity, along with the humans around him.

Basically, my take on the Sandman universe with TFC characters.

Lessons in Cartography by crazy_like_a

121,706 / explicit / andreil / 37/37

Nora mentioned in her extra content that Neil slowly maps out Andrew's body and then this fic happened. Starts after The King's Men.

The Road to Nowhere by emmerrr

118,526 / mature / andreil / 30/30

The population has been decimated by an epidemic, society has fallen, and no one is safe. But Neil has never been safe to begin with.

When the death of his mother finally leaves him with nothing left to lose, Neil inadvertently stumbles across a miss-match group of people living and working together despite the odds.

Sometimes it takes the apocalypse to find out where you truly belong; the hard part is holding onto it. And when so much of him is held together by lies, Neil might have to learn that you can never outrun your past indefinitely.

It’s not family without love by AgapantoBlu

101,958 / teen / nicky/erik / 14/?

Snippets of an AU in which Nicky takes the twins in when they are five and he's twenty and he tries his hardest.

The kids will be alright, hopefully.

Like A River by moonix

65,259 / teen / andreil / 8/8

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.

a world alone by ephemeralsky

54,850 / teen / andreil / 6/6

“It will not be cheap,” Andrew finally says.

“I know,” Wymack says. “Two bottles of Johnnie Walker sound good to you?”

“Four,” Andrew says without missing a beat. He thinks about having to deal with Nicky later on, about the additional work he has to do, and decides that he will not do anything for less.

“Three,” Wymack argues.

“Four or we have no deal.”

Wymack mutters something about blood-sucking hooligans under his breath before he concedes with a, “Fine.”

(or: a High School AU where only some of them are high-schoolers)

corvus, vulpes, lupus by badacts

31,834 / teen / andreil / 6/6

Sin settles later than most.

It’s not until Mary dies that she finally does settle. Neil looks away from the car, dazzled by firelight and the sense memory of her daemon breaking apart, and finds silvery speckled fur with jet-black points and reddish eyes the same colour as Nathaniel Wesninski’s hair. Just like that, he knows she won’t shift again.

9 foxes walk into a bar by svcculents

16,940 / teen / multiple / 11/?

doesnickyisgay added aminyard, thebetterminyard, imcatholicnotdead, queenofexy, neil.josten, cattybitch, exyandhennessy and datboyd to this coversation.

doesnickyisgay named the conversation "9 foxes walk into a bar".

nicky makes a groupchat and doesn't make good decisions. chaos ensues. enjoy

[100storiesin2020]

Chapter 6: The First Meeting

Come read on AO3!

Blue anxiously followed Renee into the Foxhole stadium. Renee had come by the Raven boys' dorm at 4:30, offering to ride along to give directions and open up the building for them. She had sat in the backseat with Ronan and Adam, and had surprisingly hit it off with Ronan. Or perhaps it wasn't surprising, with that cross around her neck. Blue was still nervous, though. She was about to meet the whole team of Foxes. These were people that she would be playing with, expected to get along with, spending a lot of time with, perhaps even be friends with.

She hadn't had much practice with friendship yet.

Their footsteps echoed in the empty hallways. Renee was ahead of her, softly speaking with Ronan about local churches. "I know of at least one Catholic church in walking distance, and others in town," she was saying. Behind her Gansey and Adam were bickering about who would buy a toaster for their dorm. They probably didn't realize Ronan would just dream one up for them. Maybe she could talk him into making it orange.

They reached a door, which Renee opened, and the five of them filed in. Everyone else had already arrived. Blue checked her watch to make sure they weren't late, and saw that they were actually five minutes early.

This must be the team lounge, she thought. It wasn't a large room, and the three couches and two chairs made it positively cramped. On the left hand side, Andrew sat next to Neil, the third spot on the couch filled by a dark haired boy who could be no other than Kevin Day. Then there was a chair with Andrew's twin, Aaron. Nicky, Matt, and Dan were sitting on the middle couch. The chair next to them was occupied by a beautiful blond girl who Blue immediately disliked (who needs perfectly curled hair for a sports team meeting?). The third couch was empty.

Gansey immediately strode across the room for Kevin, extending his hand. "Hello! I'm Gansey. You're Kevin Day, right?"

Kevin stood and shook his hand, a perfect plastic smile in place. "That's me. Welcome to the team."

Gansey beamed. "Well thank you! You're a history major, right?"

Kevin kept the plastic composure despite seeming surprised. "Yes, I am."

"Then tell me, Kevin Day. What do you know about Welsh kings?"

Blue rolled her eyes as Kevin Day, Famous Exy Player Extraordinare, launched into a passionate speech about the Celtic countries and languages. Based on the startled looks from most of the other Foxes (Neil and Andrew were unfazed), this wasn't a common occurrence. She noticed Renee giving Matt and Dan a significant look before crossing the room to talk to Andrew. Blue stood there for a moment, unsure what to do with herself, but Ronan had no such inhibitions. He stalked over to the empty couch and sprawled across it like he owned the whole thing.

Adam and Blue smirked at each other before joining Ronan at the couch. Adam pushed Ronan's legs over the side, making room for him to sit. Blue didn't bother. She sat directly on his stomach. This forced a loud grunt out of Ronan before he shoved her off. "Fuck off, maggot." Blue laughed again as Ronan sat up straight, leaving her a proper place on the side of the couch.

As she sat, Nicky grinned at her. "Hi Blue!" he exclaimed. He turned to Adam and Ronan and waggled his eyebrows. "And welcome to the team, hotties!"

Adam, who had been sipping from a water bottle, began to splutter. Ronan thumped him on the back, making everything worse as Adam wheezed and turned red. He finally caught his breath. "Hello to you too..." he trailed off.

"I'm Nicky Hemmick! Sorry to startle you. But you two are both seriously hot."

"I'm going to tell Erik you're flirting again," Aaron warned.

Nicky waved him off. "He knows I love him. Anyway, I'm a backliner and the resident gay icon. Who are you guys?"

Adam and Ronan looked at each other for a quick moment, having one of those exchanges that Blue still didn't know how to read. Adam turned to Nicky first while Ronan glowered. "I'm Adam Parrish, offensive dealer."

"Ronan Lynch, goalie."

Nicky whistled. "You look like you eat babies for breakfast, man."

Blue snorted. "You should see him with his pet raven on his shoulder. It really completes the aesthetic."

This drew the attention of everyone besides Kevin and Gansey, who were still avidly discussing history. "A pet raven, huh?" asked Dan.

Ronan didn't respond. He gave Nicky one of his unsettling, menacing grins. "I don't generally eat babies for breakfast, but one of these days I may make an exception." He leaned forward, making an obvious threat.

Nicky looked terrified. "Oh, okay, cool cool, okay, nice to meet you, I think I'll let these guys introduce themselves." Nicky turned and tried to insert himself into the history conversation, which clearly went over his head. Blue laughed.

"If you find Nicky amusing, then maybe your sense of humor is better than your fashion sense," said the tall blond.

"Excuse me?" asked Blue. "Do you have a problem with my clothes, princess?"

"Well, yeah. You look like a rainbow vomited all over you, and not the way that Nicky usually does."

Blue spluttered. "Just because I don't buy into the patriarchy's dictation of how I should present myself -" she began heatedly, but she was cut off when Ronan stomped on her foot and Renee plopped in to Allison's lap.

"Blue, this is my girlfriend, Allison." Renee gave Allison a soft, but disappointed, look. "She is one of our roommates and I am hoping that you two will get along."

Blue glared at Allison, and if looks could kill they would both be dead. Renee cleared her throat. Allison sighed, seemingly quelled for now, and moved on to the next person on the bench. "So how about you, scary boy? Lynch, was it? You sure have a menacing grin."

Ronan gave her one of those grins. "Is that right?"

"Yeah. It's even creepier than Andrew's lack of emotion, which is saying something."

He scanned the other seats. "We're referring to the midget with the arm bands?" he drawled. Andrew looked back with apparent unfeeling, but Blue wasn't fooled. He'd been watching them this whole time so far, categorizing every move they made, probably weighing them to figure out how much of a threat they may be. She wondered if he thought Ronan was more dangerous than her, or less so.

Blue snorted. "You should know. Hasn't Gansey read you all his notes yet?"

"What notes?" Dan asked.

"Gansey really likes to make detailed notebooks," Adam said.

"He's a major nerd who likes to research anything important to him," Blue added. "You should see the journal. It's a work of art."

"Hey, Dick!" Ronan called, making Gansey wince a bit. "Where's the notebook?"

"Oh, I've got it right here," Gansey said, pulling it out of his backpack. He always carried a backpack these days. He handed the notebook to Ronan, who passed it to Blue, who passed it to Dan.

Dan opened it up and flipped gently through the pages. She turned so that Renee and Allison could see without moving, and Nicky and Matt peered over her shoulder. "You weren't kidding," she said. "This has our heights, our majors, our particular strengths on the court." Andrew stood up from his couch and came behind them as she continued to turn the pages. "Look, it's got newspaper clippings. He's highlighted some comments. Oh, this is the time Neil roasted that reporter."

"Interesting," Andrew drawled, startling everybody on the couch. "Your stalker binder wasn't nearly this pretty, Neil."

Neil laughed and came over to see. "It wasn't intended to be pretty."

Kevin and Gansey finally wandered over, and Dan handed the journal to Kevin. Kevin flipped to the section on himself, of course. Blue knew that it contained official stats, details of the chess piece tattoo, evidence for Kevin's implication that Riko Moriyama broke his hand, and Gansey's own observations of Kevin's playing style. "It says here," Kevin said, "that you think I'm too predictable with my shots."

"I did the math. You aim for the same place about 75% of the time. It's always-"

"The top right corner," Andrew finished, drawing looks from everyone in the room. Neil grinned. Andrew returned Kevin's searching gaze until the taller boy backed down.

"Well, if two of you say that, it must be accurate," Kevin muttered. He turned back to Gansey. "What other observations have you made?"

The team collectively groaned, but Kevin was fortunately silenced by the timely arrival of Wymack. "Nice to see you all again. Anybody dead yet?" He looked around the room and eyed Andrew a bit. "Have a seat, everyone." Everyone resumed their former seats. Blue shoved Gansey onto the couch and sat on his lap, turning sideways to put her feet up on Ronan's lap. He promptly pushed her feet onto the floor again. "Alright, let's keep it this way. Foxes, this is Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch, Blue Sargent, and Richard Gansey the Third."

"Just Gansey, please."

"Just Gansey it is. Did y'all introduce yourselves?" The team gave a chorus of yes, coach. "You all know how the schedule works, and there are no surprises this year. We have practices at 8 am for the next few weeks before school starts. Any more questions? No? Good. You know the drill: physicals and paperwork tonight, practice tomorrow morning." He handed a stack of papers to Dan, who proceeded to pass them out. "Practice tomorrow is at the gym. Do not come here, go to the gym. If you miss practice because you came here, I will kick your ass into next week. That includes you, Freshmen."

The door opened and a very nice looking woman entered. "I see you all survived the summer." She smiled at Blue. "I'm Abby, the team nurse."

"She will be doing the physicals tonight," Wymack said. "You four freshmen are new, so you're up first." He addressed the whole room again. "Don't leave without seeing Abby tonight or you will not get to play this season. Does everyone understand?" He was answered with a chorus of yes, coach. "Good. Who is first?"

Blue got up, since she was on top of Gansey anyway. "I'll be first. Adam, don't let Lynch here pick any fights."

"Shut up, maggot," he replied as she slammed the door behind her and followed Abby down the hall.

*********

Once the freshmen had done their physicals and left for Fox Tower, Nicky turned the conversation to the new people. "So," he began, leaning back on the couch, "Who wants to bet that Adam kid is gay?"

"No way," Allison said. "He was totally checking me out. My money is on straight."

"He could be bi," Renee offered.

"I'll take those odds," Nicky said. "Also, I want to bet that the girl and the history boy are dating."

"Bet pool is closed," Dan said. "Blue already confirmed they are."

"Pity," Allison said. "He's cute." Renee raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I was just looking."

Aaron groaned. "At least I'm not the only straight person on this team anymore."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Dan joked. Aaron rolled his eyes to the sound of laughter from around the room.

"Twenty bucks that Lynch is gay," Andrew said suddenly. Renee matched it, and then others took sides on the pot.

"Time for the big question," Matt said. "How long do we think it will take any of them to figure out Andrew and Neil?"

Bets flew in from around the room. "All year!" (Nicky) "3 months!" (Allison and Kevin) "Christmas!" (Dan) "Spring break!" (Matt and Aaron)

"Two weeks or less," Renee said, smiling sweetly.

[angelofarts]

Of Crochet and Comas Part 1

I crochet. I do not knit. Knitting is an inferior art form. I crochet. I am complex.

“I am full of it,” I muttered to myself, staring at the words on the screen. The thing is, when your whole personality is this one thing you do and you can’t actually tell people it’s what you do, what do you tell them? Do you play the sympathy card? Do you make something up? Do you ignore the paper in the hopes that it’ll go away, knowing at the last hour you’ll play both the previous cards at the same time to scrape a pass?

Yeah, inevitably I end up on option 3.

I pushed away the laptop, leaving it on the scrunched with the blanket on the end of my bed, half buried under my duvet. No matter how many times Mom comes in and eyes it sadly, or Dad shakes his head at me, I refuse to give it up. That blanket is mine, no one else’s.

“Going to the hospital,” I called to my mom who was in her office as I found a clean t-shirt.

“Is it visiting hours?” she called back as I sniffed the armpit of the shirt. Okay, maybe it wasn’t exactly clean, but it was clean enough for my purposes.

I swung out of my room, scooping my backpack up. “Yeah, they let me in whenever,” I told her as though she didn’t already know this. She looked up at me, her eyes out of focus, and swept her fringe back. Defying the laws of gravity, it immediately sprung back into a frizzy mess.

“Okay, ride safe,” she said vaguely, turning back to her spreadsheet. “Take your phone and your backpack. Get some homework done.”

I nodded, even though I knew she couldn’t see me, and left through the passage leading to the back door. My bike stood there, the patches that weren’t orange rust peeked through with dark grey. An archaeologist had once offered me fifty bucks for it, convinced it outdated several of his finds, but old Raptor was mine until I got my license and could upgrade to the equally crappy and significantly more expensive rusted car sitting in our driveway.

The hospital wasn’t far away, and yet I somehow managed to get flipped off four times, honked at six, and almost hit twice. Regardless of the fact that I was in the right lane, one of the drivers tailed me a block, yelling obscenities. I merrily waved my middle finger back at him until he drove past, obviously deciding some kid on his bike wasn’t worth ruining his afternoon for.

At the hospital, I chained my bike up to the stand in front of the visitor’s entrance and hiked my backpack further up my shoulders. The air conditioning hit me, and I winced – despite cycling here and it being winter, I’d forgotten anything practical for the day like a sweater or hat or scarf, instead standing in my jeans and tee like normal.

“Hey Aaron,” Nurse Nancy called from her station. “Good to see you.”

I felt a goofy grin split over my face. “Nancy my love, how have you been? Keeping our affair a secret, I hope? I’d hate to have to become your sugar daddy when I have no sugar to provide.”

Nurse Nancy, a woman probably old enough to be my grandmother, gave me a good natured chuckle and tsked as she waved me past towards long term residency. I clutched at my chest dramatically as I staggered through the swinging doors.

Entering the ward, I waved at the nurses and some of the residents who were out for the morning. Bert, an old man with a heart condition, was reading in the common area where he first taught me how to cheat at poker. Lizzie, a middle aged woman with some sort of hormone malfunction was next to him, yelling at the politicians on TV. She was the reason I was passing history – the woman was a walking library.

Not a lot of the residents are permanently in long term, since most medicines can be administered at home, but Bert and Lizzie had no one to help them take the meds, so they had been a staple of this wing for the four years I’d been coming in.

Closer to my destination I ran into the younger crowd – teenagers my age who had to come in for a month or so at a time for some or other condition. Lisa I knew had cystic fibrosis and came in whenever she flared up, although you wouldn’t say she was chronically ill from how put together she always looked – long blonde hair always tied back, always in real clothes when the others would spend days in pyjamas. Richard had Crohn’s disease, and you could always tell when he came in from how much weight he’d lost or gained. There were others – diabetics, cancer kids, a whole host of them who somehow had managed to find a society within themselves, one which I, as an outsider, was very much not a part of.

Finally, I reached the last door and propped it open, to the familiar, rhythmic electronic beeps of the heart monitor and the gush of air in and out of the respirator.

“Hey bro,” I whispered softly.

My brother, Kenzo, didn’t reply, not that I expected him to. His chest artificially rose and fell as I softly dropped my backpack to the floor and sat in the visitors chair next to him.

Kenzo was the one who introduced me to crochet, back when we were kids. I, at four, had less than no patience for the wool and stick my mom was trying to show us, but he took to it like a duck to water, and within three weeks we were both going at it. Anything to be like my big brother.

Just a year separated us, but it was a year that made a difference. Kenzo was the model student, the popular sports star who somehow was genuinely nice to everyone. One year he found out who didn’t have Valentines, and anonymously sent fifty crocheted roses to the girls and guys (He’d made me help of course). One year he raised money for charity through selling scarves. He was Mr Perfect, as far as our peers were concerned.

I didn’t have the same sheen on him – bathing together until you’re three does that to a person – but even knowing the crappy stuff he did, like the brief stint of shoplifting before I threatened to turn him in, or the time I caught him and our neighbours smoking pot in the back garden, I couldn’t deny that he was a good brother. Until the day he wasn’t.

Until the day he ended up here, in a coma, because of me.

I bent over to open my backpack. “Here, I made you something. Winter is getting cold, and you need some protection I bet.”

I emerged with a hunter green hat, one I knew would suit his colouring because it suited mine. The green clashed with the dark brown of my hair, bringing some colour into my pale cheeks. I pulled it onto his head carefully and tucked it around his ears the way he used to like it.

“Looks great, bro,” I said softly, leaning back. “How are you still hotter than me though? Hardly seems fair. If you take Nurse Nancy away from me now, I really will have to call mutiny.”

“Nurse Nancy?”

A curious voice had spoken from the door, and I bolted upright, kicking my bag under Kenzo’s bed. At the door stood a girl, about my height, with pale skin and auburn hair, clutching a bag.

“Sorry,” she said immediately. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I only came to drop off this blanket and I didn’t think there would be anyone in here because there’s never anyone here when I come past and when I heard it I stopped because you never know who could be here talking to their family and I don’t want to interrupt but then you mentioned Nurse Nancy and she’s my aunt and she’s married to my Aunt Ellen so I hate to burst your bubble but I think you might need to find a new girlfriend.”

She finally stopped to draw breath, after the most impressive babble I’d ever heard. I waited a beat to make sure she was really done.

“You should offer your lung capacity to Lisa.”

Red began to bloom in her face, spreading from her nose to her cheeks and down her neck. Now that I was paying attention to her clothes, rather than her words, I could see she was dressed in a button up shirt, cardigan, and a pleat skirt. Her shoes (leather brogues) were neatly tied and polished to a shine. Throw in her dark blue lace tights, and I couldn’t help but feel like she was a time traveller from the 1940’s.

She let out a laugh, and to my humiliation, I realized I’d said the last of my thought out loud. It was my turn to flush, although it wasn’t nearly as spectacular as hers.

“Tesha,” she introduced, holding out a hand.

“Aaron,” I replied, taking it and giving it a limp shake.

“Are you Kenzo’s brother?” she asked curiously as she set down the bag she’d had slung over one shoulder, patterned with birds. “I come in here often, but I’ve never seen you here before.”

I nodded. “They gave me free reign since he’s a coma patient, so I’m not usually here in normal visiting hours. Which begs the question – what are you doing here?”

“Christmas in July,” she said cheerfully, pulling out a woollen blanket in deep burnt orange.

“It’s May,” I countered, raising an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes as she set the blanket over Kenzo’s legs.

“Don’t be a buzzkill. Time is meaningless, so presents are eternal.”

I snorted as I fell back in my chair. “I should use that line with my teachers to get extensions.”

She smiled and tucked the blanket down gently. “There you go, Mr Kenzo. Looks just as good as I’d expected.”

If this was a magic story, Kenzo would have woken up then through Tesha’s kind action, or her sheer force of personality and charm. This isn’t though, so naturally I noticed at that moment that the blanket was knitted, and let out a derisive snort.

“What?” Tesha asked defensively, her eyes flashing slightly.

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “It’s just that Kenzo doesn’t like knitted stuff, especially not machine knit. But I’m sure it’s a nice blanket, really.”

Her mouth started to pinch. “This,” she said very clearly, “was not machine knit. This was hand knit, by yours truly, and you are a snob and not very nice. I’m leaving now.”

With that, she swirled around and left with a little “hmph.”

I got up to chase after her, not sure if I was going to apologize to her or further mock the institution of knitting. When I got to the corridor though, I saw that she’d disappeared, no doubt to engulf someone else in her snobbish, “superior” items.

“Whatever,” I muttered to myself, turning towards the bathrooms.

On the way there, I ran into Richard, who uncharacteristically stopped to talk to me.

“Dude, did you do something to piss off Tesha?”

My face flushed again as I quelled the urge to push past the dark teen in front of me. He had a disease, he was basically skin and bones, he had no contribution towards me sticking my foot in my mouth…

“No,” I snapped. “She’s being a snob.”

Okay, so much for being nice to sick kids. I try to be nice to the teenagers here, knowing that if circumstances had been different it was very likely that I would be one of them, but it was difficult when none of them usually acknowledged my existence. Between their cold shoulders and the tip toeing I got at school, I was getting rusty with appropriate social interactions.

Richard snorted loudly. “Yeah, right.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

He shifted in his wheelchair, and his jersey slipped down one bony shoulder. “Tesha is a saint. No way she started it.”

“Were you there?” I demanded, pushing into the bathroom. It was mean of me, but I let the door swing closed before he could follow, knowing it was near impossible for him to enter.

When I emerged, unfortunately he was still there, but now talking to Lisa. I snuck past them and back to Kenzo’s room to wait out my time in the peace of my brother.

[jemej3m]

To the Good Place We Go (p.2)

part two! (sorry about errors totally didn’t read over this)

credit goes to @gluupor​ for the idea! link to their the good place au here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16782301

warning: aftg typical violence

part one here: http://jemejem.tumblr.com/post/182518320202/to-the-good-place-we-go

“I don’t belong here.” His voice shook. He imagined his father was looking up from the Bad Place, grinning like the mad-man he was. Neil was delivering himself into hell, because it was the right thing to do. His morals had been warped and distorted on Earth. If he was going to spend eternity suffering, he might as well make himself feel better by doing it honourably.

Also, he wanted to prove Andrew wrong. But that was besides the point.

Three-hundred and twenty-one residents, an omnipotent ethereal being and a walking Wikipedia stared at him in shock.

“Well.” Wymack clapped his hands together. “Dismissed, everyone!” He crooked a finger at Neil, and he felt his heart clambering to get out of his chest as he shuffled forward. He tried not to flinch as Wymack’s fingers brushed over his shoulder, and in less than a blink, they were standing in his office. Wymack rounded the desk and grabbed a stress ball off the desk and propping his feet up on the oaken edge, throwing it up and catching it repeatedly.

“Well?” Wymack offered him the chair. Neil sat. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I didn’t try to get in or hack the system somehow.” Neil murmured. “I’m not a mole. It’s a complete mistake.”

“Ha. A human, hacking into the universe? Very interesting. Very impossible. You humans are so strange.” He caught the ball, took his feet off the desk and leaned forward. “Neil Josten, you’ve been chosen as a candidate for MPP. The Middle Place Project. Nicky!”

“Yes?” Nicky had blooped into existence next to him.

“Strike Neil Josten off the Test One list.” Wymack’s smile was small but warm.

“That was a test?” Neil said testily. Wymack held out his hands.

“Honesty is an integral part of being a good person. You, out of everyone, are the most practised liar. Eight years on the run, twenty-two identities—I’m surprised you aren’t having an identity crisis.”

“Same.” Neil muttered. In all honesty, he was glad to have died as Neil Josten. Neil Abram Josten. Out of everyone he’d been, Neil was his favourite.

“If you can come forward, in front of the entire neighbourhood nonetheless, then I’m sure the rest will follow.” He cleared his throat. “The Middle Place Project is proving that humans are capable of  change, whether it be improving, or failing. There’s a few in the midst of the neighbourhood that we’re watching to see whether or not you can improve from your characteristic behaviours on earth.”

“Will we get into the Good Place if you do?”

“Maybe in five-thousand years.” Wymack promised. “If I can manage to convince my superiors of  your genuine progress.”

“Right.” Neil drawled. “Five-thousand years. No biggie.”

He glared at Neil with intense scrutiny, but somehow, Neil was unafraid of this ethereal being. He was giving Neil a chance, wasn’t he?

“Well?” Wymack grouched. “What are you still doing here?”

“What am I supposed to—“

“Figure it out, Josten. Just don’t tell anyone it’s a test. Got it?”

He pursed his lips. “Cool. Yeah. Got it.”

Wymack watched him, unimpressed, as he shuffled towards the door. Neil shot Wymack a quick grimace as he slipped out.

He blew his bangs out of his face with relief. Andrew stood in the waiting room, arms crossed and eyes barely slits. “So?”

“I’m alive.” He twinkled his fingers. “See?”

“Actually,” Nicky piped up.

“Shut up, Nicky.” They both ground out.

“Test forty-seven!” Wymack clapped his hands. “We’re finally getting into the good stuff. Ethical responsibility!”

Neil threw a troubled glance at Andrew, who, of course, stared impassively back. Ethics?

“What’s sitting in a classroom gonna do about our ethics.” Seth grunted.

Neil had decided he disliked Seth intensely. It was something about the constant fits of anger, irrational judgements and toxic intolerance to everything that wasn’t Allison’s tits or Adderall.

“Well, actually,” Kevin chided. Wymack snapped his fingers, effectively muting Kevin. The young man tried to scream in horror, but slumped in his chair with defeat.

“We’re going to be learning about some of your moral philosophisers and interpret what they had to say about what’s right and wrong. How about some basic questions, hm? Just to gage where each of you at.”

This wasn’t going to go well.

It was fine, wasn’t it? They had, what, five-thousand years?

“These first few should be simple.” Wymack picked a clipboard off his desk. “Let’s see. Neil?”

He looked up at the towering, omnipotent being. “What?”

“Is murder good or bad?”

Neil shrugged. “Depends.”

Wymack looked a little dismayed. “Andrew?”

Andrew jerked his thumb at Neil. “What he said. For example, Seth is a perfect example of why murder isn’t always bad.”

Neil grinned at him, and liked the way a spark of amusement glinted in his eye. Seth was probably clambering out of his chair to haul himself at Andrew in a fit of rage, but Neil wasn’t watching. He simply appreciated the sunlit hair that shone like spun gold, and the perfect understanding shared between them.

Their benevolent guardian simply dragged a hand over his face as his classroom dissolved into chaos.

“Good morning, son.”

Neil opened his eyes slowly. He was sleeping in a double bed, his double bed, in his cottage. In the afterlife. He was in the Middle Place. His name was Neil Josten. He had died at the age of 19. He played striker. His soulmate was Andrew Minyard.

Sitting upright, he saw Andrew standing at the opposite end of his bed. There was a young man standing behind him with a vicious glean to his eye; He had his chin hooked over Andrew’s shoulder.

Andrew was gagged, hands cuffed behind him. His feet were bare: His skin shone with sweat as his muscles convulsed. There were bruises blossoming under his skin: He’d put up a serious fight. How was he bruising? Could you be hurt in the afterlife?

“I said, good morning.”

Slowly, Neil craned his neck around. All six-feet of his father were craned over the edge of his bed, one fist denting the mattress and the other wrapped around Neil’s neck. He was looking at a mirror image, the eyes and the hair and the sadistic smile. Thick fingers tightened around Neil’s windpipe.

“Young Drake Spear was promoted to help me. It’s time to collect our rewards for such excellent work down in the Bad Place.” His grin was that of a wolfs.

“Fitting.” Neil wheezed out. Honestly, he was terrified. The thought of eternity trapped with the unending methods of his father was enough to wish that there was a way for Neil to die and end up in a further layer of the afterlife.

His father only laughed. The last thing he remembered noticing was Andrew closing his eyes. For a moment, it looked as though an angel was praying.

Dan crouched down, back to the wall. In her hand was a magnetic clamp, ready for Bad Nicky. It’d render him useless, and they couldn’t let Nathan Wesninski, Drake Spear or Riko Moriyama have access to him. They were powerful enough as it was.

Kevin was bone-white beside her. It had to have been years since he saw Riko Moriyama. Neil and Andrew weren’t the only ones facing their old demons today.

The man who’d stabbed Dan in the back had been boiling in a pit of acid. The demon in charge of the tank flashed a grin at her. “Want to join him?”

Aaron’s mother had leapt out at him from a shuffling line of prisoners, grabbing for fists of his hair and screaming. She hadn’t been able to tell which twin it was, mixing up the names as she spasmed with hysteria. Aaron had clutched his arms to his stomach and hurried away.

With Dan and Aaron’s close calls, Renee knew it was every possibility that her old gang leader had heard the commotion the group had caused and would want to connect with the girl who ended his life in a knife fight. Renee was clutching her rosary, praying as every demon brushed by her.

God, was Dan exhausted. Matt, Aaron and Seth had all been lured with narcotics. Then Matt got into a fight with a security guard, and Seth backed him up. Then someone insulted Allison as she was trying to flirt her way through a checkpoint, and she’d clawed their eyes out with her nails, but gotten bust up at a result.

So yeah. Not a great time for any of them.

“This is it, kid.” Wymack warned. “We’ve got a window of thirty seconds to get them out of there.”

Dan nodded.

A young man left the room, meaning Bad Nicky was watching over Andrew and Neil. Dan rolled out from her hiding position and bolted at the black-clad man standing in front of her. She whacked the cuffs on, stunning the look of contempt right out of those big brown eyes. He stumbled, turning around to look at her.

“Oh my god,” Allison cackled. “Bad Nicky is a straight, fuck-boy version of Nicky?”

It was true. He was wearing a flat-cap, backwards, and a big grey hoodie underneath a leather jacket. His jeans were torn and he wore stupid, stereotypical boots. He had a tattoo of a girl with her tongue between her fingers on his neck, and a gold-capped tooth.

“Hell.” He slurred. “You got me. Ha-aahh.”

Nicky was staring at himself with horror. “Disgusting.”

“Andrew,” Kevin faltered. “Where’s Neil?”

Andrew was sitting up, both hands chained to the bedposts behind him. He was blindfolded, his clothes in tatters and bloodied. Aaron rushed forward, dragging Nicky with him. The chains were cut and Dan watched Aaron murmur something to Andrew as he tore his blindfold off.

“We have to go.” Andrew said, fierce. Dan had never seen him so angered. “I know where Neil is.”

Matt grabbed bad Nicky and hauled him over his shoulder. The group filed out, lead by Andrew, Aaron surprisingly right on his heels. Despite the obvious abuse, he was legging it down the hallway. With the chaos of the Bad Place, the rag-tag team and their badges had looked like nothing more that a bunch of demons. With a Bad Nicky incapacitated and over Matt’s shoulder, they were running out of time. Andrew somehow had perfectly memorised the route to Neil’s cell.

They were almost there, when Andrew staggered to a holt. The young man they’d seen leaving the room earlier was standing in front of them. Aaron acted too quickly, brandishing a knife and jumping the guy. The knife buried itself into the man’s chest. Dan gasped.

“I won’t let him touch you again.” Aaron promised his twin. “Go.”

Andrew said nothing, instead shoving his way through a metal door on the left just metres past.

The demons present whirled upon their entrance. Dan felt her blood boil as she saw Neil in a chair, head hung. He couldn’t even lift his head to see who’d appeared.

“Wesninski, these humans are mine.” Wymack growled. “Give them back. They’re official property of the Middle Place.”

“Oh, oops.” The man—who did look scarily similar to Neil—grinned at the younger boy. Riko Moriyama. “It’s almost as though demons have to follow rules. Incredible.”

Riko had no eyes for anyone but Kevin. Kevin, who stood with his chin up and broad shoulders as he stared the other boy down.

“I’ll oversee your retirement myself, you rotten sack of sadistic fuckery.” Wymack snarled, stepping forward with Nicky at one side and Andrew at the other. “Back down. Now.”

“Kevin, Kevin, Kevin.” Riko clucked his tongue. “It’s so nice to see you. Such a shame that we’re opposed like this, brother.”

“I’m nothing like you.” Kevin rasped. “I’m going to go to the Good Place.”

“Why bother?” Riko leered. “When you can have so much more power, down here? They recruit the worst, you know. I was just human too. Now look at me.” He lifted his hand, and Neil spasmed, head flung back and mouth open in an aborted scream.

That was the precise moment that everything went to shit — as if everything hadn’t already gone to shit. Wymack launched at Wesninski: Andrew was hurling towards Riko, and the rest were attempting to shut the door on the copious amounts of demonic spawn trying to get a better look.

Dan was desperately trying to get someone’s attention but the only one who listened to her was Renee. That was ultimately futile, because Allison was thrown aside and Renee, obviously lost her shit. Even the faithful had their breaking points.

Kevin was desperately clawing for Neil to break him free: Andrew was brawling with Riko with a desperation that had Riko shaken, Wesninski was waving a knife in Wymack’s general direction, Matt was thrown over a demon’s shoulder and causing a ruckus, Seth was yelling and Allison was wiping furious tears off her face, snatching a knife off Renee.

Wesninski threw the knife. Riko threw himself at Neil. The door was thrown open.

“ENOUGH.” Nicky screamed, standing in the middle of the room.

Everyone froze.

“I’ve been through a lot, today!” Nicky’s voice was so shrill that Dan would have winced if she weren’t completely stiff. “I’ve hauled almost a dozen of you shits through portals, this way and that way. I’ve been running faster than I’ve ever had to run in my life, because I don’t run, I teleport! My husband’s disappeared because he wasn’t compatible with the Bad Place, I’m not meant to be this emotionally distraught because I’m just a machine, and now this?” He gasped. “I. Am. Flabbergasted. It’s my favourite human word, and that’s what I am right now. Not only have you—“ He pointed to Wesninski. “Defied basic laws by having a child with a human, you’ve been recruiting humans! Gracious, do you know the worst part of this entire shit-fuckery?” His voice raised into a scream once more. “I have to live out the rest of my eternal existence knowing that Bad Nicky is a straight fuck-boy!”

“That’s the worst part?” Neil said, weakly, his voice raw with screaming. “Well, gee, Nicky. I missed you too.”

“So,” Nicky continued. “I’m going to unfreeze my friends. Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. And we’re going to leave. And am going to report your demonic asses to the new Lord Ichirou of the underworld, and I hope you live in agony for eternity. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” He snapped his fingers and Dan almost collapsed, if it weren’t for Matt holding her up. “We’re leaving.”

Andrew hauled Neil to his feet, clutching the taller boy to his side in a fit of possessiveness.

Dan stood by the door as she counted her crew out of Neil’s cell, watching Nicky carve an angry path through the mob of frozen demons. She glanced over her shoulder to see Kevin glaring at Riko.

“Kevin,” Dan started.

The man slapped Riko so hard that Riko’s head shifted, even with Nicky’s freeze power. Or whatever the fuck that was.

“You deserve so much worse than hell.” He said, calmly, before marching out the door. Dan followed him, squeezed his shoulder. His look was not as confident as he’d been momentarily ago, but he offered her a shaky smile.

“Let’s go home.” Wymack said, tiredly slinging an arm around Nicky’s shoulders.

They all smiled faintly, and with a nod, they were on their way home.

“How’d you do in the Trolley exam?”

Andrew glared at the sun. It was still peering over the horizon, the endless rolling hills, trying in vain to grasp a few more minutes of illumination. It turned the sky into a brilliant palette of purples and blues.

He wanted to shove Neil off the roof of this stupid house, but he probably wouldn’t even break a bone. He had been sleeping in Neil’s grossly cramped cottage for a few months, where there was only one room and Andrew had been donated the couch. They’d razed Andrew’s old house to the ground a few weeks back. That had been great fun.

The reason he wanted to shove Neil off was murky, but he knew part of it was because Neil provided him a tether: To stay in the Middle Place, to try and achieve Good Place status with everyone else, to stop himself from marching down and delivering himself into greedy hands. It didn’t matter if Drake and Wesninski and Riko were gone. Hell would still suck.

He hated it.

But he also couldn’t cut the rope.

“I ran you over. It was very satisfying.”

They corner of Neil’s mouth quirked. Andrew hated that too. He hated Neil’s stupid red curls and brilliantly blue eyes. They were sparkling in the sunset, each freckle and scar glossed with a decadent shade of gold. “What was it between?”

“You and nothing. I think I’m a bit behind in class.”

Again, the quirk of the mouth.

Truthfully, the choice had been between Neil and Aaron. Because they were all already dead and this was just a theory, Andrew knew it didn’t matter. But still, he’d found himself torn. Usually apathetic and uninterested, he was placed in the simulation and felt a strange thrumming in his. ear. His heartbeat. Quickening.

Aaron was his brother. He had promised Aaron protection. Aaron had gotten them both killed. Aaron ignored his conditions and went out with Katelyn, and lied about it. Aaron was his brother. Andrew died protecting Aaron from their mother. Aaron had stabbed Drake for him. Aaron was his brother.

But Neil was his other. Neil listened. Neil smiled. Neil was honest with Andrew. Neil was relaxed with Andrew. Neil looked at Andrew in a way that made Andrew felt as though he was coming undone, unravelling at the seams. Neil could see Andrew. Neil understood Andrew.

He’d only had a split second left to decide.

He’d chosen Neil over Aaron.

“Yes or no?”

Neil narrowed his eyes. “To what?”

“A kiss.”

The word sounded so delicate out of Andrew’s mouth. He felt delicate, exposed and raw to Neil’s understanding gaze. All this studying of ethics and morality and those stupid philosophers was getting to Andrew’s head. The question yes or no was balanced on a scale, the decision between forever and never ultimately resting on Neil’s final answer. Andrew fucking hoped it was a yes.

Death made one’s apathetic resolve melt like ice sometimes.

Gosh, he was a miserable forking sap. It was disgusting.

Neil smiled, so hesitant that it was almost unnoticeable. But Andrew saw it. Maybe Andrew understood Neil, too. “Yes.”

Fork the Good Place. Andrew was already there.

once again, credit goes to @gluupor /// link to their the good place au here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16782301

hope u enjoyed!

[bloodkingdomrp]

♚JUDD.ROCKWELL

“ You don’t need to learn the language of a snake in order to kill it with ease “

✚ AGE & DOB: Thirty-Six & March 23rd, 1983 ✚ OCCUPATION: Illinois Senator District #3 ✚ AFFILIATION: Unaffiliated

♛THE HISTORY♛

The announcement of the birth of Harrison and Loretta’s first child sent the media into the frenzy long before the little boy’s face had even been presented to the world. A high-profile entertainment lawyer and a former supermodel wasn’t necessarily a match that people were expecting, but it was a love story that could make even the most pessimistic of Chicagoans smile. Coming from old money, the Rockwells had been in the public eye even before the addition of the already-famous Loretta, the family heavily involved in community outreach and philanthropy that went back to the mid-eighteen hundreds and had continued through each turn of the century. When little Judd was born, it was as if the big Illinois city was promised another few decades of promise; the heir that would continue on the chain of good fortune.

He’d been set up to succeed, but it had become apparent from a young age that getting him to do so would take an incredible amount of effort. As an only child of two millionaires, Judd was given everything and anything he’d ever wanted except for the one thing he really needed: love and affection. Most of the childhood memories he can recall involved the various nannies that would come in and out of the house, and the time spent with his parents would largely be for appearance sake while they gallivanted around charity events and galas, posing for pictures and shaking hands with hundreds of people that simply stared in awe. An inflated ego was developed even before he reached puberty, and despite the many pleas for him to become more disciplined and presentable, Judd was far too concerned with indulging himself where his parents wouldn’t.

Going to college had always been on the docket, even with all of the suspensions he’d garnered in high school. Being a Rockwell meant that he had certain privileges that many others in his position wouldn’t, hence how he was admitted to the University of Chicago quickly upon applying. He decided to major in Political Science, something his father had influenced him to do so that he could follow a similar path and eventually go to law school. Nights of studying and doing classwork soon turned into partying and getting himself into illicit activities, and now that he was over eighteen, the public began to take notice. Chicago’s Resident Frat Boy, he soon came to be known as, drawing the attention of tabloids and magazines that used to report on his family and a positive light — he didn’t care much, though. In fact, he thrived off of the attention given to him by the general public, by the doors that would open for him simply because he was a Rockwell. Before long, he’d managed to graduate with an impressive GPA. How did he accomplish this? Well, none of his professors wanted to be that schmuck that had to deal with the fallout of failing a public figure — Harrison and Loretta Rockwell’s son, no less.

Law school didn’t seem incredibly pressing, hence the ‘gap year’ that consisted of Judd (for lack of a better word) fucking around. The drugs he used became harder, the parties lasted far longer, the girls began to cost money. Not only that, but Judd was becoming less and less careful of who he associated himself with, placing any sense of judgement on the back-burner for his own personal self-satisfaction — and it worked for him…until it didn’t. Only a few short days after he turned twenty-five, a sex tape was released of him and a very married famous actress, subsequently getting widespread media attention and pinning him as a sleazy, ne’er do well home-wrecker, further blemishing the Rockwell reputation. He’d gotten ridiculed in the press before, sure, but this was seemingly never ending and far more ruthless. It was then that Harrison finally put his foot down: either Judd would get his act together, or he would be removed from the will and cut off. Not only financially, but emotionally as well.

It was his own personal rock bottom; his family hated him, the public hated him, even he was starting to hate him. Years of trying to get his parents’ attention had proven successful, but in all the wrong ways. So, he agreed to his father’s terms and cleaned his act up. He enrolled himself in law school, working harder and more tirelessly than he’d ever had in his life. The partying and the drug abuse had been toned down to a minimum — a little coke at his desk would help more than it would harm, right? — and before long he’d graduated, passed the bar, and began working as a defense attorney at a highly respected firm that a family friend owned. It seemed that Judd had finally gotten his life on track, but gaining his father’s approval had become much more of a task in itself than he’d expected. So, he turned up his efforts to eleven: he ran food drives, volunteering at shelters, held charity events of his own, and public opinion began to turn in his favor. Some even suggested that he run for town council with the amount of good he’d been doing, and at first the thought made him laugh. Him? In politics? He’d roll his eyes in disbelief but behind closed doors, he felt the wheels turning…and turning…until he realized something. Why not?

Running for state senate with a record like his had proven to be difficult, but after finding himself a fiancee who supported his endeavors and maintained the image a sweetheart in the public eye, that was all that was left before Chicago finally learned to love Judd Rockwell. Maybe he wasn’t in love with the Socialitte, but the rest of the country did, and in the end wasn’t that what really mattered? In 2017 he was elected Senator of Illinois’ 3rd district, garnering him the pride of his parents as well as the city itself. For years, he maintained a clean-cut all-American image even despite some of his political adversaries trying to tear him down. He became untouchable.

Until his demons came back to haunt him. Deciding to have one little harmless night of fun with some trusted colleagues, he thought he was being extra careful despite the alcohol in his system, and the beautiful woman who wasn’t his fiancee on his arm. Spending the night in a jail cell with the threat of a DUI, Judd saw his life crashing down before his eyes all over again…until it didn’t. It all happened so fast and succinctly that it took Judd a while to realize that none of it was a coincidence. No information reached the tabloids; besides the Socialite dumping his ass for good, it seemed as if the entire drunk driving and soliciting ordeal had never happened.

Except, it did, and now the people in power within the seedy underbelly of Chicago know everything. Judd is being pulled in all directions, corrupted by his own demons and the knowledge held by others, wondering what the hell he’s going to have to do next to make sure his reputation stay squeaky clean; for his career, for his family, for himself. Only time will tell how long it is before he cracks, or until his dirty secrets are out for good. Either way, however, Judd Rockwell is starting to become pretty certain that no matter the eventual outcome, it won’t be pleasant for him.

♜ THE DETAILS♜

(+): + charismatic   + authoritative   +  gregarious     

(-): - dishonest  - unethical  - hypocritical

Face Claim: Aaron Tveit

written by Rach | EST

[xcziel]

Killjoys Season 5: Everything You Need to Know

by Victor Stiff | July 18, 2019

"Killjoys are back!

It’s a bittersweet time to be a Killjoys fan. Space’s most electrifying sci-fi series caps off its five-season run starting this Friday, July 19 at 10 p.m. ET.

Killjoys is Space’s most-watched original sci-fi program, and you can guarantee that the show is going out with a bang. After a successful third season, Killjoys was greenlit for seasons four and five. This gave the show’s producers a two-year window to wrap up the story in the most satisfying way imaginable.

Late last summer, the show’s producers invited the media to visit their set for a behind-the-scenes look. You couldn’t ask for better hosts. We spoke with the writers and cast, toured the sets, and received up-close looks at the costumes and props. After talking to the team behind the show (and watching them shoot some scenes), it’s clear that season five is shaping up to be the best season yet.

In anticipation of Killjoys return, here is a rundown of what you should know.

Is this show for me?

First off, you couldn’t ask for a better summer watch. Expect ten weeks of high-stakes episodes packed with colourful characters, wrenching drama, and over-the-top-action sequences. And of course, plenty of screen time with the galaxy’s sexiest trio of bounty hunters.

If you’re looking for a show that places strong characters and moving relationships over epic action, Killjoys is the series for you — but the show also features top-notch action. Consider it a win-win.

Who are the Killjoys?

If you’ve never watched the show before, here’s the 411.

The series follows three space-travelling bounty hunters (Killjoys), Dutch (Hannah John-Kamen), John (Aaron Ashmore), and D’avin (Luke Macfarlane), who work for the Reclamation Apprehension Coalition (RAC). They travel the system taking on warrants to apprehend people and valued property on RAC’s behalf. But this description only covers the tip of the iceberg.

When the show begins, Dutch has a mysterious past linked to a manipulative character named Khlyen (Rob Stewart). And John and D’avin are brothers who are finally reunited after years apart. The show’s soapy twist and turns leads to plenty of drama for the crew to sort out; often while navigating life and death missions by the seat of their pants. By the time season five rolls around, the stakes are no less than the fate of the galaxy.

If you want to catch up, start binging right now.

What to expect heading into season five:

By the end of season four, things look bleak for our heroes. The Lady (Alanna Bale) has won; she left the Green, the Green was destroyed, and there’s no way to put her back in. Thousands of years studying human memory has taught The Lady how to manipulate it, and she has taken away the team’s knowledge of each other. Season five begins at the lowest point they’ve ever been in. But in a red pill versus blue pill-like twist, they all seem to be happy in their fake lives.

Season five’s memory wipe gave the writers and actors a chance to put familiar characters in new situations, which makes for compelling drama. What’s more impressive is how the storyline dovetails with Killjoys’ thematic pillars.

“TV is a bit of a magic trick. You start off with plans, and then you see what things excite you and interest you, what starts to come out naturally,” said executive producer and Showrunner, Adam Barken.

Barken added. “As we were working, right from the beginning, one of the things that came out very naturally was this idea of memory and how it relates to family. And the more we explored that every season, the more we found, the richer the stories became. While it wasn’t necessarily a plan that we knew in season five, ‘Aha. Ok, now we’re going to strip everybody’s memories,’ by season two we had a pretty good idea that one of the main themes of the show is family. And then, of course, one of the main ways you interact with and deal with family is through your shared memories. The idea of D'av and his lost memories started us down a path that seemed [like] a really good one to follow.”

Barken then said, “I think we were lucky to find one that meant a lot to us and allowed us to build in a season that goes back to some of those core themes of memory, family, what this trio means to each other and what the wider world means to them.”

The memory wipe gave the writers and actors free rein to take characters in fresh directions. The entire crew was enthusiastic about all the storytelling possibilities.

Barken enthusiastically added, “Let’s have some fun at least at the beginning of season five saying what if people were completely different? What if Pree (Thom Allison) wasn’t a bartender. What if Turin (Patrick Garrow) wasn’t the head of the RAC? Who would they be in a new Old Town society, and how could we have some fun playing around with it? I think we did.”

“One of the tensions they’ve been playing with is how unearthable are those [personalities],” said actor Luke Macfarlane who plays D’avin Jaqobis. “What is the pure state of these people, and does it supersede memory? Is there something pure underneath them? Will we actually be seeing a truer expression of these people without [what] they’ve gone through over the last four years?”

“The fun thing is to have a complete shift in roles and shift in costumes as well, which will be very fun to see,” said Hannah John-Kamen, who plays the crew’s resident badass leader, Dutch. “It’s the idea of how do you find each other again when you’re completely distant and completely alien to each other? And what remains? What are the remnants from the past life? What is that connection, and how do you bring these characters back together? That was really fun to play as well.”

“I don’t think it changes anything in the dynamics necessarily,” added Aaron Ashmore, who plays John Jaqobis. “I think a lot of those things are potentially under the surface, anyways. But it’s exciting to play with characters and actors that you know, but in these different lights because you don’t have to treat them the same. It’s almost like being in a different show, in a sense. It allows you to reveal things that are fresh and new. It’s exciting.”

Here’s a synopsis for season five’s first episode, Run, Yala Run. It’s a clear nod to German director Tom Tykwer’s 1998 thriller, Run Lola Run.

''In the season opener, “Run, Yala, Run” (Friday, July 19 at 10 p.m. ET) Dutch wakes up and realizes that The Lady has put Westerley under a collective delusion. With no memory comes a new reality. Dutch struggles to find a way to wake up her gang before it’s too late. But before she can, a new Killjoy comes into town looking for Jaq.''

How do I watch the show?

Canadian viewers can watch Killjoy’s final ten episodes Friday nights on Space (soon to be CTV Sci-Fi Channel), and American viewers can tune in to Syfy.

Season 1- 4 of KILLJOYS is currently streaming on Crave and On Demand."