end the fed!


Andrew is walking down the stairs from the roof of the building when he feels a subtle shift of movement behind him. He doesn’t even get a chance to turn before he’s on his face on the stairwell floor, one of his arms twisted behind him and a knee in the centre of his back.

It’s a poor showing. Apparently he has been getting slack.

“I’ve got Minyard,” a male voice says, and then the weight on his spine is gone.

There’s a crackle and a voice over a radio saying a quick affirmative. The name the voice uses -

- Josten.

Andrew rolls over. The man standing over him in a black bulletproof vest with FBI written on the front, gun in hand, doesn’t look like Andrew remembers. His face is badly scarred, blurring what was a tattoo under his eye into illegibility. The hair is shorter, cropped back, but the eyes are the same. So is the voice.

“Don’t stab me,” Neil Josten says. “I can’t imagine you’re unarmed.”

He’s not wrong. Andrew says, “What the fuck is going on?”

“Have you seen this man?” Neil asks, flashing Andrew a picture of a weedy dark-haired man in a Hawaiian shirt. It looks like it was taken off of a surveillance camera - the man is half-turned away and caught mid-step.

Andrew looks at the picture, and then at Neil. “Why?”

“Because I want to question him on his fashion choices,” Neil replies, dry as dust. “Why do you think?”

“I think I’ve never had a reason to help a cop in my life,” Andrew says. His voice comes out dead like it hasn’t in months.

Any humour in Neil’s face falls off. “Well, let’s see if I can make it worth your while. This man has already killed three professional sports people, and we think he’s targeting your team for his fourth kill. So, you should be grateful I found you first.”

Grateful. What a joke. 

“So. Have you seen this man?” Neil asks again, offering the photo again.

Kevin is downstairs in the room they’re sharing alone. Andrew needs to get back to him now. So, in the name of expediency -

“Yes,” he answers. “And so have you. He’s working security tonight for the hotel.”

Neil stares at him. After a moment, Andrew offers, faux-helpful, “He’s blonde now, and he’s ditched the shirt. I guess you didn’t recognise him.”

“Fuck,” Neil mutters, and reaches for the radio on the front of his vest. “Luka, Minyard says our suspect is working for the hotel as a guard. Check all the staff in the lobby against the photo, he’s dyed his hair.”

“Is Minyard sure?”

Neil looks at Andrew for a moment again as he says, “He has eidetic memory. He’s sure.”

“Affirmative. We’re searching now,” comes the reply. 

Neil drops his hand and says to Andrew, “I’ll escort you back to your room.”

“No,” Andrew replies, pushing himself up from the ground at last. Neil steps back out of reach as he does, untrusting. That’s the smartest thing he’s done tonight. 

“Are you that keen to get murdered?” Neil demands. “We haven’t caught the guy yet.”

“You won’t,” Andrew tells him. “I doubt he stuck around after all of you stormed in here in your uniforms. Guess I don’t have anything to worry about tonight after all.”

“I’m more likely to trust a clinical psychiatrist’s assessment of the suspect’s motivations and movements than a professional goalkeeper’s,” Neil replies. “You know I’m just going to follow you, right?”

Andrew ignores this as he rattles down the stairs. True to his word, Neil stays close but not too close, gun still in hand and still wary. He’s precisely the same kind of sharp he always was before, eyes cool and calm as he searches for a threat. Apparently you can make a career out of borderline hyper-vigilance after all. Not that a professional goalkeeper would know that when he saw it, apparently.

“Let me,” Neil says a second before Andrew ignores him and shoves first through the door onto his floor. Andrew hears him mutter, “fuck sake,” under his breath, clearly audible.

Andrew slides his key through the reader, and the light clicks green. Kevin looks up at him from where he’s sitting cross-legged on his bed restringing his racquet. Well, he’s certainly still alive then - if Andrew were a serial killer going after the Chicago Guards, he can’t think of many better players to target than Kevin Day.

Andrew steps through the gap in the door, using his body to block Kevin’s view out and Neil’s inside. “Goodbye.”

That word tastes like finality. He takes a last look at Neil with his silvering scars - that burn must have been nasty - and his fingerless tactical gloves and the gun he carries with the air of long experience. Different and the same. Andrew taste the end and, underneath it, anger, familiar.

“Andrew,” Neil says, and then pauses. It looks like his words are jamming in his throat through uncertainty, like he doesn’t know what to say or maybe doesn’t know how Andrew will react. Andrew hates that he recognises that expression. 

You were amazing.

“Fuck off,” he replies, and slams the door in Neil’s face.

Neil Josten is supposed to have a new name. Neil Josten is supposed to be a million miles from Andrew after going into hiding with Witness Protection. Neil Josten certainly isn’t meant to be a fucking agent for the FBI.

Neil Josten also isn’t meant to look at Andrew like he knows him. He should be grateful Andrew didn’t cut that off of his face.

Hansol Periscoped~

I very much enjoyed this one. Last one he looked so exhausted but in this one he seemed much more perky. Asked us not to upload screenshots. He had been walking home after he finished jogging. Showed us his swag shirt. Pretty sure it had his name on it. Couldn’t tell what he was saying but I heard the word “piano” multiple times, & he seemed super passionate. So… that was adorable to watch.

Started another live right after. This boy said he was going home after a jog, but is stuffing his face outside a cafe/orsomething after the calorie loss. Me. Was also talking about how short the clothes are in China.Sounded like he was going through some of the Chinese he learned. His favorite Chinese food is “kochi”. I don’t know what that is, but I’ll love it if you do. Telling about the difference between “Korean spicy” & “Chinese spicy”, with acting out spicy food to pair with it. Thank you for that. Said it gets hot in your chest & makes you want to throw up sort of feeling. Then cut off what he was saying to pet & film a white puppy that came around. This just in. ToppDogg loves dogs. Pretty sure he started talking about Kkongie right after. 

Then he terrified me because he suddenly went silent, started patting his ear repetitively, suddenly I’m seeing the ceiling. And hear him making attack-helicopter-motorcycle noises. Umm. This is odd. Is like that for a good 2 minutes. Brings it back up and starts eating again like nothing happened. 


eleanor guthrie walking into a room and having two grown ass men quivering in fear on the floor in under ten seconds is my aesthetic 🙌