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jemej3m · 4 years ago

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Allison dresses Neil in a dress, thoughts?

can you imagine, though?

this boy, who is canonically pretty, an athlete, auburn haired and icy eyed. if he wore a dress, i am sure it would stop time.

excuse the shitty sketch, but here are the dresses I write about below (not necessarily in the right order):

its nearly 1am what am i doing with my life

The first time Neil wears a dress, Andrew thinks nothing of it

It’s a dark blue thing, with a stupid bow on the elastic around his shoulders. They’re just chilling in their dorm, Kevin still out at classes. Neil had disappeared to the girls’ room for about an hour and come back wearing something that was obviously not his, a strange amalgamation of expressions on his face. Pride. Curiosity (probably in Andrew’s reaction). Self-consciousness. Spite. Everything that encompasses Neil Josten, really.

It’s a nice dress. Definitely Allison’s. The material would crumple under Andrew’s fingertips if he pinched it, like tissue paper, like Andrew’s skin when Neil pokes and prods for answers. He wears it well, even if Andrew will never tell him that. It softens the scars and the muscles and the sharpness of Neil’s grin into something more playful.

Is Andrew aroused? He’s not really sure. This isn’t territory he’s approached. Enough time passes with Andrew just looking that Neil moves on, bored of standing still. He makes coffee in the kitchenette with the skirt swishing around his thighs, and Andrew thinks: maybe. Maybe he could be.

Neil’s clearly not wearing it for him, though, so he lets him be and goes back to ignoring the Exy run on the TV and reading his book.

The second time is unexpected. The second time has Andrew’s skin swelter and heart race.

It’s his last year at Palmetto. Everyone’s come back to get hectic at Eden’s and crash at the cousin’s place. Even Renee’s here, back from saving the world to see her family. Neil’s been nervous all week, without the league to distract him (at least they’d won finals, for the first time since Neil’s freshman year). He doesn’t like being alone anymore. Andrew gets it. He’s not exactly keen about long-distance, either, but they’ll make it work. They always have.

Because of flights and timezones and logistics, they all meet at the house. Andrew is coming back from Denver, flying against his will. Neil and the others will be at the house getting ready by the time he gets back: he’s given himself enough time to get the Maserati from the airport parking, drive around till he feels back in his skin, go home, have a shower and beready to leave by thetime. the others are too. He’s driving tonight, Renee hauling the others in Matt’s truck. Neil will drive Andrew’s car home. It’s an old routine. Andrew doesn’t hate it.

Everything he planned to do goes accordingly: the house is chaotic with pre-drinkers by the time he’s back. Erik is there, as is Katelyn, Thea, Wymack and Abby. The latter never come out to the club, but they always take advantage in seeing their Foxes all together again.

Neil is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Allison. Andrew rolls his eyes at his cousin’s teasing: this was normal, by now. Allison liked to play dress-up with Neil, putting him in fancy shirts and eyeliner and well-fitting pants. It was one of the only things that Andrew appreciated about her: that, and her seeming loyalty to Renee.

It’s five minutes past their due time to leave and the pair still hadn’t left Nicky’s donated bathroom. Andrew grabs his keys and makes for the door, desperate to just wait in the car. There’s some noise from the other side of the kitchen, so Andrew glances over his shoulder.

When he sees Neil, the room suddenly gets incredibly warm.

He’s wearing a skin-tight dress that barely makes it to mid-thigh. The sleeves are down to his wrists but the neckline is wide enough to see the gunshot wound against his collarbone. The material is thick enough to conceal the history of his torso, but tight enough to cling to every muscle.

Worst of all, he’s wearing garters. They’re attached to small shorts - practically underwear - underneath the dress. The garters aren’t lacy, just bands of black fabric around his thighs, but Andrew gets the nearly insurmountable urge to veto the entire night all together.

He leaves the house before anyone else can see his reaction, but Neil had already been looking: he was always looking at Andrew.

Nicky jostles Andrew for a reaction for the entire drive to Eden’s but Andrew remains still as stone. It isn’t until Neil sidles up to him by the bar and whispers “Do you like it?” that Andrew brushes his lips against Neil’s ear and says,

“Yes.”

The third time Allison wrangles Neil into a dress is unprecedented. They’re at Renee and Allison’s wedding. Andrew is Renee’s best man, which means standing at the altar for the entire ceremony. Luckily, Neil is Allison’s, and Dan is there for both of them, so he isn’t alone.

Renee doesn’t change her suit before the reception, but Allison being Allison has a full wardrobe change planned, so she drags Neil off when they arrive at the venue. Andrew nurses a champagne and listens to Thea complain about Kevin’s baby fever, whilst Wymack looks on in horror at the thought of being a grandfather. It’s mildly amusing.

When Allison and Neil arrive, he nearly spits out the wine.

Allison has changed into a red thing of silk and lace. He’s sure it’s very stylish, but he has eyes for no one but Neil.

The dress is backless. It’s dark grey, satin, and tied around the back of his neck. There’s a slit up one leg. Neil is ignoring the looks of Allison’s extended family as he walks her into the room and to where Renee is waiting for her, somehow able to glide across the floor in heels. When did Neil learn how to walk in heels?

Neil arrives at Andrew’s side, older, wiser, knowing exactly what this is doing to his husband. Andrew pinches the satin at Neil’s hip, admiring the drapery and the slant of Neil’s shoulders.

“I distinctly remember Allison threatening to cut your balls off if you upstaged her,” Andrew murmurs, letting Neil lean into him.

Neil hums. “Well, she picked the dress. It��s her own fault.”

“I hate it,” Andrew returns, tilting Neil’s chin sideways with two fingers for a kiss. The wedding is small, just their family and the irrelevant acquaintances Allison had invited. They are already out. Andrew doesn’t care. All he wants is to tear what little fabric Neil is wearing off and mail Allison the remnants.

“You can borrow the heels,” Neil whispers. “My neck’s already sore enough as it is.”

“Watch yourself, Josten,” Andrew retorts.

Neil’s smile is giddy. He presses one last kiss to the corner of Andrew’s jaw, steals his flute of champagne and saunters off, dress fluttering around his ankles.

And after all this time, Neil still makes Andrew feel like he’s teetering on the edge of the cliff.

Idiot, he thinks, stifling the slight twitch of a smile.

#andreil #neil josten #dresses #post canon #fluff #andrew minyard #all for the game #aftg #the foxes #allison reynolds #neil josten can step on me lmao

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simonsrosebud · 4 years ago

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Hi hi hi hi sooo I just read the proposal which AHHHH and I asked about more dalton and Thea interaction earlier sooo what if they went on Kathy’s show to announce the engagement and then she brought out Thea because Kathy loves to make Kevin’s life difficult

i think i still might answer your previous ask about them doing a press review (bc i love kevin and andriel shutting ppl down), or maybe i’ll answer it with how dalton’s students react to this \/ interview. i love the idea of his students just being obsessed with him LMAO. i would be let’s be real

kevin refuses to go back to kathy ferdinand, but fortunately there’s a better talk show his agent trusts to send them to.

you know, for the announcement.

they’d already posted on social media, but his publicist says they need an official announcement. kevin can’t understand why, but he doesn’t care to find out.

dalton kisses him before he goes out and waits on the side stage until it’s his time. kevin puts on his press smile.

and when cassie, the show host, brings him out, it turns to a real one.

“well what’s the sense in waiting! everyone give a very warm welcome to the future mister day!”

dalton waves. he tries to think of it as just a lecture. it’s just the live audience. definitely not hundreds of thousands of others at home. his students watching at home.

“dalton miller in the flesh, look at you! this is your first show with kevin in all of your years together, yes? is it exciting?”

“it’s something all right. i’ve always liked to watch from behind the camera before, but this is definitely an exception.”

“i’d say! can we get a glimpse of that ring?” he holds his hand out to her and then to a camera for a close up. “so i’m aware you two met at palmetto state university, what was that like?”

“would you believe me if i said it was because kevin needed a tutor?”

cassie fans herself. “damn! truly the teacher student romance, huh?”

dalton laughs, uncomfortably. he definitely didn’t mean it like that.

kevin shrugs. “i wouldn’t say that, exactly. he happened to see me struggling with whatever math homework i had and offered to help.”

“still, it sounds like a meet-cute you’d see on hallmark!” what the fuck was a meet-cute? “surely it was as stressful as dating in the pros? how did you balance your exy schedule and social life?”

kevin has his arm around the back of dalton’s seat. he tilts his head. “i wouldn’t say dating in the pros is hard. not when you’ve got the right person,” he says. “dalton has known since college that things were intense with exy. he knew what he was walking into, and i knew what i was adding to my plate going into it, so it wasn’t hard.”

“absolutely. speaking of a lot on your plate, you just won gold at the olympics not even four weeks ago! can we get a round of applause?!” the crowd is cheering before she even asks, and she calls over them. “and while we’ve got an olympian here, let’s bring out another one we happen to have with us today, thea muldani!”

kevin freezes. dalton grabs his hand.

ever since they broke up and kevin lost the fear of subtly dissing riko, she’s had nothing but hatred for him. she never lets it effect her playing, but kevin still doesn’t understand it.

as thea joins the stage with a fake smile, she nods at the couple on the couch and sits on the opposite side. “isn’t this special! now, thea we were just talking about relationships, and as we all know you and kevin here are on us court together. what was that like being in the olympic village together?”

“the village is such a strange experience, truly, but nothing different than training and practice.”

“i mean, you hear the secrets of the village spilled all the time, the parties and the hookups. we’re all aware that you two were once a couple, was there any old tension between you two while you were there with all that going on? any old feelings brought up? if i were you i’d have to control myself, for sure,” she laughs.

it’s not funny.

dalton doesn’t like the question, and kevin can feel it with the grip of his hand on his knee. the question is for thea, but dalton takes it instead. “i’m sorry, but kevin is not a cheater and i don’t appreciate you insinuating that he would have considered it.”

and kevin doesn’t normally show negative emotions on shows like these, for the sake of what people think of him, but anyone can see he’s visibly upset. “i’m six and a half years sober. i didn’t drink, i didn’t party, i barely strayed from my room and neil josten’s room. i called dalton every day, every night. i called my foxes every day, every night. i proposed four days after the games ended. i’d quit playing exy before i cheated on him.”

and for once, thea is on their side. she flips her hair gracefully over her shoulder. “what an embarrassing question... besides, i will never be so low to be the woman any man takes as a second choice.” the crowd whoops at that, and cassie’s smile twitches. she holds her hands up in retreat.

“my apologies, truly. uh, as for the engagement, dalton, did you see it coming, at all? what with the excitement of the us court’s win and all only a few days before.”

“i really didn’t, no. we’d planned a trip to colorado as a retreat after the games, since they’re so exhausting, but… wait- did we really plan that just to propose?”

kevin shrugs, but he’s smiling. “i never once said to you that it was a post-olympics retreat, so i’ll just say that.”

dalton’s kind of stunned, because he just kind of thought that the idea to propose in colorado came after they decided to go. he’s got a giddy grin on his face, and tries surpressing it as he turns back to cassie. “um… i’m sorry, what was the question?”

after the interview, all three of them leave without saying goodbye to cassie. dalton drives, because kevin is fired up. “i don’t fucking understand what it is with people surprising me with people i don’t want to see. and then insinuating the dumbest fucking things.” they’re at a red light. kevin leans over and turns dalton’s face in his hands. “i love you. i wasn’t kidding. i’d stop fucking playing before i ever hurt you.”

dalton purses his lips, and kisses him real quick before stepping on the gas after someone honks behind them. instead he takes kevin’s hand in his and presses his knuckles to his lips. “i love you.”

#OC: dalton miller #dalton miller #kevin day x dalton miller #kevin day #kevin #bisexual kevin day #the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is #exy #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #the foxes #Palmetto State #Palmetto State Foxes #palmetto state university #us court #thea muldani

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miniyrds · 4 years ago

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THANK YOU 🥺 ok so ☕☕ theres lots of art or hcs with Neil wearing typically feminine clothes such as skirts, crop tops, cheerleader uniform, etc. And I feel like it's very unrealistic for his character. While I dont think Neil puts much importance on gender or its stereotypes. If you're a guy (or girl) wearing these kinds of clothes there is one thing for sure: YOU HAVE GOOD STYLE. Which, Neil Josten? He does not have good style at all. Man would happily wear a trash bag. Secondly, these types of clothes show lots of skin (or more than others clothes) and this presents a risk of showing scars which I dont think Neil would be comfortable with. Thirdly, there is no evidence for Neil liking these types of clothes in the books and therefore it comes across to me.. as feminizing an lgbtq+ man under the guise of breaking gender stereotypes. Gender stereotypes can go fuck themselves off 😌 but it's so sad to see people seemingly using this to once again push heternormative ideals. (Sorry this is so long, ty for taking this 🤲)

neil in trash bags 2021 !!

no but anon, you’re 100% right. honestly, like his sexuality, neil probably never thinks about gender. the most effort he puts into clothing is “does it cover my scars” and “do i stand out” and like...i’m not sure that goes away post-canon?? i feel like crop tops and traditionally feminine clothing would make neil uncomfortable because people are definitely stopping and staring and seeing his scars

i like to think that allison and andrew (who dress neil the most like one time each lmao) also take that into consideration. they’re not about to force neil to be more fashionable at the sake of his comfort level. plus, there are plenty of fashions that don’t involve revealing skin that run the gambit from masculine to feminine. picturing neil in an oversized tshirt and turtleneck. anyway

as for your third point i agree with that as well. it goes hand in hand with the posts i’ve seen feminizing fanon neil in general. there is definitely a balance to try to find there. i think a lot of these ideas could use a more nuanced approach in how they want to explore neil. it’s very difficult to find the sweet spot but there’s definitely a place for gender exploration and i don’t want anyone to take this as me saying don’t do this. that isn’t what i’m saying at all

i don’t want to step on anyone’s exploration of gender through fictional characters because i think, personally, making characters like you can be cathartic and a safe place to think about things just like i keep shoving the foxes into various aspec identities. there’s also the opposite side of the coin that wants to me caution people from getting too deep in perpetuating stereotypes and to keep that in mind when exploring these things

#pretty much all this to say is always approach things with caution???#sounds ominous but yeah #ty lauren for being my proofreader #tfc #mine #anon

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phantaloon · 4 years ago

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right so, vent below on all for the game aka the book series I finished in three and half days bc my stupid brain would not let me live my life if I didn't finish and I haven't studied for two tests I've got tomorrow but this is somehow more important in my brain (and everyday I'm more convinced about adhd)

first things first... I love neil josten with all my fucking heart and oh jesus christ I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM, he's the typical damaged mysterious character I always love but I can't regret it, like I love every single one of these characters which is a lot to say bc that never happens? (well except maybe aaron, but he has his moments, and I totally get his attitude) BUT NEIL owns my heart, like genuinely, he is my everything now, he might be one of my favorite ever characters?? like I said, I love this type of angsty character, and it's dumb but I love him

also can I say how much I love this bc it literally is one of my favorite tropes? like found family? check. queer? check. mentally and emotionally unstable? check. enemies to friends to lovers? check. abusive pieces if shit getting what they deserve? check. did I mention found family????

like I genuinely love this, and the suspense of wtf will happen next is honestly what's pushed me not to sleep this past few days and push my assignments aside (which is so not me lmao) because I physically need to know what's gonna happen fr

like nora is a very clever writer that way, even though three books cover a year which is odd, she really has a way to captivate the readers, ffs she got me to read a sports novel?? I just love the simplicity and symbolism of her writing

but oc at this point, if you have any semblance of how I am you know exactly what my vibe is... andrew and neil. lowkey toxic relationship at first, andrew was truly a piece of shit as a friend, but am I a sucker for characters finding that person they can call home and feel safe around after not ever having that?? absolutely. (warm is the word I love when describing this, a person that makes you feel warm) the way their relationship was shaped over the three books and how subtle the details are is amazing

and how much of a fucking simp neil is. there you have andrew hiding his sexuality like a pro for a long ass while and then neil just cannot stop staring at andrew like dan howell looks at phil lester. he really did nothing to try to hide his fondness for andrew once they started hooking up even though they pretended it was purely physical. I just love how hard neil fell for andrew in so little time, like he went from yes I think I'm attracted to andrew to loving and looking for andrew like nothing else mattered (big percabeth vibes)

also can't not love andrew's development. like not in the literary character development kind of way, but more of a... personal kind of way, like it's not in a writing sense, it's simply his emotional development in a human sense. idk how to say it. it's not like apollo's in toa or damon salvatore's or tony stark's. it's simply his personal development from being self isolating, possessive, closed off, and just done with everything, with no semblance of a purpose to live, to someone whose doors just opened in every way. he gave in to his own dreams, his feelings, and he understands that he truly is not alone, he has aaron again and kevin and nicky and renee and neil and everyone else. he actually allows himself to be happy and live for once instead of just existing, and maybe he's not there yet, but he's definitely working to get there now, and I love him so much istg I wanna cry rn as I write this

but getting back to neil and andrew, god I love their relationship. they worked through every step of the way, they're so caring and careful of each other's boundaries and triggers and stuff, and they just understand each other so perfectly. not one of them expects of the other more than they can give, and they just work so well. I love that they never told anyone absolutely anything, their relationship is theirs, and theirs only, they don't deny anything, they're not ashamed of being together, but I really love that they chose not to let the others make a big deal out of it.

and I can't ever forget how much andrew must really love neil. we know neil is head over heels for andrew, but technically we don't know how andrew feels. except every single action he does proves it. it's in the details. from the second book and onward, andrew has such a soft spot for neil, even through what happened with drake in TRK, god andrew cares so fucking much for neil it hurts. he may pass it off as 'there's nothing here', but every one of his actions proves otherwise. even right after coming back from rehab, he cared for neil like he cared for no one else, not aaron or kevin. everything that happened was perfectly paced. from their first kiss to their last. just andrew even going against kevin when he was being too aggressive to neil is enough proof, not to talk about andrew letting the deal with Aaron go to be with neil, or everything when neil was kidnapped.

it's just, they both deserve all the happiness in the world, and I'm very fucking happy they found love in each other after all they've been through.

I'm sorry I'm ranting so much, but you can guess how I feel about smth when I've slept so little the past three days bc I was obsessed with finishing it despite having too much to do (I didn't pay attention to a class bc I was reading and it's fair to say I didn't do good in the following quiz), so yeah I have a lot of feels for this series

I just love their little family so much, you don't understand <3 found family is just my favorite ever trope and I have to stop my rant short before I write way too much when I should be studying for my very important tests to come

anyway you can bet I'll keep posting about this lmao <3 truly recommend it but mind the trigger warnings, some content can be a lot for some people, hell I like reading angst and I had to put my phone down a couple of times bc it's a lot, so yeah, ttyl

#queued #scheduled actually #aftg #long text #long post #tfc #trk #tkm #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #idk what to tag #andreil #andrew x neil

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nachtgraves · 6 years ago

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Andreil Week 2018 - Day 3

I’ve planned out the rest of the days I’m doing and somehow managed for each fic to be one rating higher than the last lmao. Here’s day three.

Title: Staying // AO3 Word Count: 1,101 Warnings/Tags: T. Post-canon, anxiety, neil has trouble with the fact that good things can stay. Prompts: rain | bare skin | broken glass

Andrew finds him outside. It’s just the two of them in Columbia for a few days of the summer. Nicky’s in Germany with Erik, and Aaron’s off with his cheerleader. The rest of the Foxes are just as scattered, at least until summer training starts up when the new rookies arrive. Andrew, personally, has had enough of rookies, especially ones that are needlessly being a nuisance and lack common sense.

It’s some hour where people should be sleeping, not trying and failing to creep quietly about an empty house during a storm, never mind going outside to sit in the rain like an idiot trying to get pneumonia. Andrew may have been awake, unable to sleep anyway, when Neil decided on some fresh air, but that’s beside the point. Andrew heads to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of beer before he steps out to see what’s got the little rabbit’s panties in a twist.

Neil’s sat on the steps leading up to the house, back to the door and staring out at the quiet streets. Andrew grimaces as cold rain seeps into his clothes. Neil’s been out long enough to be completely drenched, red hair plastered against his skin, t-shirt and pajama pants dark and clinging. He looks like a sad, lost stray.

Andrew plops down one step above Neil’s, somewhat shaded from the pouring rain by the porch roof. Neil remains staring out into nothingness, as if he hadn’t noticed Andrew’s arrival.

Andrew takes the moment to examine Neil’s silhouette. There’s nothing outwardly wrong, no new injuries or old injuries appearing to cause an issue, so he lets his perusal go from clinical to something more intimate. He catalogues the way Neil’s clothes stick to his skin, catch the curve of his shoulders, form to the knobs of his spine. His neck is the only skin Andrew can see. Andrew’s eyes trace the drops of water that slide down from Neil’s hair, slow down his neck, and into his shirt.

“I don’t see what’s so interesting out here,” Andrew says, loud and scathing. He takes a swallow of his drink before setting it pointedly down on the step between them. Neil turns his head enough to look at Andrew and the drink and shake his head. Andrew takes the drink back, covering the top with his thumb. It’d be a waste for it to just fill up with rain water. “105%.”

“Would it have gone up or down if I had taken it?” Neil finally speaks. He’s not so lost in his head that he can’t be a snarky shit.

“107% for the attitude.”

Neil huffs. Andrew bets the little shit’s rolling his eyes. He almost adds a few more percentage points.

Andrew’s content to sit in silence until Neil wants to speak. At least for a while. Neil’s lucky that he doesn’t take too long, Andrew barely halfway through his beer.

“I’m still alive.”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “Gee, really? I never would have known. I know you’ve had that head of yours knocked around but I didn’t think you were this stupid.”

Neil turns his head around, eyes narrowed in a glare. “I’ve lived my life expecting to die at any turn. I spent a year with the understanding that I would die when the season ended. But somehow, Riko’s dead, my father’s dead, I’m no longer Nathaniel Wesninski but actually Neil Josten, Ichirou’s letting me live, I can play Exy. And I’m still a Fox.”

Andrew just stares back, unimpressed. “You’re just listing things here.”

Neil heaves a shaky sigh, the noise almost lost to the rain around them. “I’m waiting for it all to fall apart. To be back in Evermore or in Baltimore or—or on the run still.”

Andrew’s had enough. “And here I thought it was something serious but you’re just being regular rabbit-y Josten.”

Neil’s mouth purses, ready to argue or call Andrew out on something or another, but Andrew sets his beer down, under the shade of the porch awning away from the rain, and reaches out. He slides his hand up and around the back of Neil’s neck, wet and cold from the rain. He feels Neil shiver under his palm.

Blue eyes, as ridiculous and dangerous as ever, meet his and Andrew gently tugs, guides Neil up to him and Neil follows. Neil ends up kneeling in front of Andrew, his hands braced on the step between them. Andrew tugs him closer. “You can put your hands on my knees.”

Neil nods and Andrew’s hand slides down into the back of Neil’s soaked shirt at the action. Andrew tenses briefly at the touch of Neil’s wet hands on his knees, cold palms on the skin his shorts don’t reach, but he relaxes from the familiarity and trust and other things that still has him itching to push Neil away and drive off in the other direction. Instead, he reaches his other hand out to hold Neil’s hip, help steady him.

“You chose to stay.” Andrew brings their foreheads together, Neil’s damp, amber curls heavy with water and dripping. “You chose to stay last summer and you chose to stay in the spring.”

Neil closes his eyes and Andrew stares at the water-darkened lashes that fan across Neil’s cheeks. His gaze follows down to Neil’s mouth, parted as he takes deep breaths in and out.

At Neil’s next exhale, just as he’s flickering his eyes open, Andrew closes the distance and catches Neil’s mouth in a biting kiss. Neil’s gasp of surprise is quickly swallowed into a moan as he falls pliant into the kiss, held up only by his hands on Andrew’s knees and Andrew’s hands on his neck and hip.

They kiss surrounded by rain and thunder until Andrew feels Neil start to shiver from the cold and wet, until they need to breathe. Andrew pulls away and Neil tries to follow, but Andrew holds him still. He squeezes Neil’s neck and Neil opens his eyes, mouth curving down into a pout.

“I’m not getting sick,” Andrew says and lets Neil go. He gets to his feet, leaves the half-finished beer on the steps, and heads back inside. When Neil only takes a second of hesitation before following after, Andrew rewards him inside with another kiss, pressing Neil against the closed door.

Their kiss ends with Neil pulling away to sneeze.

Andrew snorts and rolls his eyes. “Maybe you’ll think twice before sitting in the rain for hours, but then again, you’re an idiot so I’m not holding my breath.”

“Oh fuck you,” Neil says with a sniffle.

#andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #all for the game #aftg #andreilweek2018 #my writing #tumblr fic

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exyjunkies · 7 years ago

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32 for Andreil???

oh what!!! hey!!!! guess who’s back!!!

this was started as a product of procrastinating for my chem exam which i’m pretty sure i flunked lmao

poetic prose for this one - i’ve decided to give this style another try, since it’s (apparently) been 2 years since i wrote a fic like it

neil’s pov!! since i have yet to gain insight into being able to write from andrew’s mind haha

fic meme 1-100: andreil + 32. “I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

send me a pairing (preferably from aftg/trc, but you can send me anything) and a number and i’ll write you a drabble (1-50) (51-100)

Late into the night, it creeps up on you in the least expected of ways - much like how the fingers of a breeze passes by the back of your neck, but you didn’t know the window was open in the first place. Or if there were windows in the room at all.

You struggle with the thought in the wee hours of the night. You stare up at the ceiling, wondering if there is any merit to… whatever it is that you’re feeling right now. The night crickets do nothing but contribute to the noise. Most people who have been in your situation would call you stupid.

At this point, you’d probably agree with them.

You wonder if it’s because it has never happened to you before. The life of a runaway gives no time or space for anything deeper into the human experience. Survival has eaten up all your expectations of what it’s like to have a normal life. Ice lines your veins, mostly because your mother has never been good with handling anything that burned.

Except you are so drawn to the fire behind those hazel eyes. How he’s able to pour gasoline down the lines that matter and ignite them to let you know. The many times he’s coaxed more than mere steam out of you.

This time around, you are learning that your mother has never prepared you for this force of nature.

Staring at the ceiling, you exhale all your worries and let the night take over. You have a game to play tomorrow, and your overthinking clutters the rooms in your head. Still, your mind remains in maximum overdrive. It is incredibly difficult to accept a day is over when you clearly aren’t.

You think about the key pressed into your palm. How the ridges against your skin have said more than you could ever begin to understand. You think about the roof, how it is the place where you both get to stare out at the city and be bigger than your selves. You think about how honesty is the only language he’s ever wanted to connect to you with. How the truths that have been traded have made all the difference, both in your world and in his.

I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.

Even your own mind has trouble taking apart the syllables for what they really are. You’ve been Neil Josten long enough for you to know that love is not to be feared, but the feeling knocks into the whole of your system anyway. For a moment, your entire body is paralyzed with the weight of the realization.

You wish he understands that the fear isn’t in him liking you back, but rather, it is in the possibility that this might all change. It is a big step in a wayward direction to let the truth out, more so to expect– to want him to do anything about it.

You wish he sees that you are giving yet another part of yourself to him. This time, it is the part that you’ve only held out for your mother because she’s given you everything else. It is the one good part of you, or so you think. The part untouched by a father who only knew how to shame and be ashamed.

You wish he lets you admit it to yourself first before taking it as a confession to him. The both of you have always moved at a speed dictated by the reigns of both your pasts, but it is not hard to imagine him faulting you and your issues for a possibly harmful present. In this moment of introspection under the covers, your soul has chosen not to leave you yet, but you can already see it departing you to avoid hearing his clipped, dismissive reply.

But that was the thing with him, wasn’t it? How he only dismisses when he sees no purpose woven into the action, no merit pulsing in the words. You think, maybe your truth wouldn’t just be any drop in the ocean. Maybe it would be the one to change the course of the tides. Maybe the clouds in the sky will move aside to let the sun take a peek. Maybe the waters will settle down to a level of peace only the both of you know.

You take this hope in your hands and want to keep it safe. You hold it next to your heart, and close your eyes.

You dream, and it is the one you didn’t see coming.

(But it is the one that you want.)

#andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #all for the game #the foxhole court #aftg fic #myfic #ficmeme100 #anonymous #answered #yaaaaay #this isn't my best work agh im rusty #but i hope y'all enjoy this hehe

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pynchvinsky · 7 years ago

Note

can we get some andreil + sappy neil for the prompt thing please? idk if he'd be drunk, on medical related drugs or even sleepy lmao

oh boy lets go (im still taking prompts btw, always taking prompts)

“I don’t drink,” slurred Neil, pointing a weak finger in Andrew’s face, who cracked a warm smile. “God, you’re pretty…” He said, distracted. They were sat on the couch in their dorm- well, Andrew was sat. Neil was lying across two seats, head resting on Andrew’s thigh.

“And you’re drunk,” Andrew replied, looking down at the beautiful man on his lap. His auburn hair was grown out into curls, falling off his face now. Smile spread across his face in a way that Andrew could never get sick of, so wide he could hardly see the blue of Neil’s eyes.

“I’m not drunk, Drew. I told you, I don’t get drunk,” Neil raged, letting giggles slip through.

Nicky trundled into the room, five beers systematically carried between his fingers. “God, you guys are the cutest. But Neil- you’re in the seat.”

“Oh shit, I am!” Neil exclaimed, rolling to throw himself of the couch. He landed ungracefully on the floor.

Andrew looked Nicky dead in the eye and sighed, “Neil, are you okay?” He turned his head to look down at his fallen boyfriend.

“Yeeeeeeeeah,” Neil squeaked, throwing an arm up in confermation.

“You gonna get up?” He asked casually.

“Naaaaaaaah,” the reply was in the same, elongated tone.

Andrew stood up and stepped over Neil, reaching out a hand for Neil to pull himself up. Neil didn’t comply, so Andrew crouched down. “Let me help you up,” Andrew said.

“No, I wanna go to bed,” Neil insisted.

“This isn’t your bed,” Andrew told him, reaching out a hand to push Neil’s hair out of his face gently. Neil turned his head so his nose was flat against the carpet, muttering a soft ‘yeah, you’re right’.

Neil gripped Andrew’s hand and was hoisted up abruptly. He stumbled for a moment, leaning against Andrew. “I think it’s past Neil’s bedtime,” Aaron joked- he should never try to do that.

“Hah! Jokes on you, orphans don’t have bedtimes!” Neil laughed, clicking and pointing his fingers as Andrew ushered him out.

“Tell me about it, I haven’t slept in years,” Aaron agreed, tone serious.

“Fuck! You guys are a bundle of joy, this is why we don’t host parties here,” Nicky groaned, handing Kevin and Aaron their beers.

The couple made their way out, leaving the other’s to deal with that awkward aftermath themselves. Closing the door behind him, Andrew breathed out a half-laugh, “you are ridiculous, Josten.”

Neil hummed, “Yeah, ridiculously in love with you.” Then chuckled, “I’m on fire tonight.” In this moment, Andrew regretted ever telling Neil that it was safe for him to drink with the Foxes. If Neil had any secrets left, they would be spilled by now.

“I’m serious, you are,” Neil breathed in through his teeth as he flopped onto his bed. Andrew leaned against the end of the frame, “The best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Neil turned his head to look at Andrew, before continuing, “you made me feel real. Because no one’s ever their name… they’re something to someone. Someone’s son, brother, boyfriend… that stuff. That’s what’s put on headstones, it’s people who make people. Like everyone’s just a jigsaw puzzle and you find where you fit.”

“What are talking about?” Andrew asked, raised eyebrow and loving grin that disguised itself as a smirk.

“You, I’m talking about you,” Neil pointed. He shuffled in his bed, “come here.”

Andrew decided to sit cross-legged on the floor next to where Neil was. His face was just below Neil’s. He draped a hand over the side of the bed for Andrew to hold loosely. Andrew mindlessly played with Neil’s hand, tracing his scars, while the boy spoke.

“You make me feel so safe, you’re so… grounded. I’ve never had that. My feet never really stay on the ground long enough before I’m running again. But now,” his voice went high on the last syllable before he reached his hand to place a fingertip on Andrew’s nose, “you’re my home.”

Andrew looked down at his nose, scrunching his face to feign annoyance. He didn’t really know what to say, luckily his loud-mouthed boyfriend would keep talking.

“You’re all I need, Andrew. All I want. You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, eyes looking directly into Andrew, who looked back cautiously. His hand moved to Andrew’s hair, which he pushed off his forehead.

Maybe Neil wouldn’t remember this, but Andrew would. He treasured the moment of emotional honestly, he let himself feel everything he would have repressed. He let his heart fill with warmth, melting the ice of people’s perceptions of Andrew. He was not emotionless, not a sociopath. He cared about things, he cared about Neil. So he sat there, and let Neil talk until he fell asleep mid-mumble.

#ask #answered #anon #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #all for the game #the foxhole court #tfc #aftg #my writing

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ravenvsfox · 7 years ago

Note

Have you ever written/ would be interested in writing a fic where blue, Ronan, Adam, Gansey, Noah, and Henry join the foxes?

(a real live crossover, I’ve never done this in my life lmao!! btw I didn’t know how to write a ghostie into a PSU sports team so I’m afraid noah’s not in this one)

“That’s a bad omen if I’ve ever seen one,” Dan says mildly, shielding her eyes from the sun. Neil follows her squinting gaze to the border of the baking sidewalk.

There’s a raven watching them from the dust, glossy wings folded out a little like it’s preparing for flight. It’s pinprick eyes are black beads tossed into pitch fabric, near invisible.

The foxes watch it preen and hop towards them. Neil gets a sinking feeling that it isn’t wild, that its strut and challenging eyes must belong to some rotten nest.

They’re grouped at the entrance of the court: Dan installed at the edge of the parking lot with a hand on her hip, Allison splayed all over the wall wearing sleek white shorts to match the paint job, Andrew and Neil tipped back into the sun-sharp grate of their car. The others are dotted along the unruly grass and perched over cars, sweating through the wait for fresh teammates with fresh problems.

The raven cocks its head and paces closer. Nicky coos at it. Matt tells it to fuck off good-naturedly.

“How about you go ahead and fuck off first?”

Neil looks evenly over to the source of the voice, feeling trepidation slither down his neck like ice under the collar.

A boy walks towards them with an unfriendly mouth and a mangled cut-off t-shirt, tattoos and scars jostling for a place on his body. He looks like what Neil expected when he first heard of the foxes. He looks like the popped blade of a box-cutter that someone forgot to sheath. He has a vicious BMW at his heels like an afterthought.

“Dibs,” Nicky says, breathless.

“Oh, sorry, I was talking to the bird,” Matt explains.

“And I was talking to you,” the stranger replies, holding eye contact until it feels like a raw vein pinched between fingers. The foxes shuffle and kick up dust and exchange looks.

“You’ve gotta be one of our new recruits. No one but a fox is going to start shit over a raven,” Dan says, half smiling.

“He’s defending her honour,” someone says, and their attention all swivels again.

The newcomer walks up with his hands clutched in his pockets, smiling with a third of his mouth, eyes serious and deep-set in his tan face.

“Adam,” he introduces, expression jumping. “That’s Ronan. He likes to make bad first impressions. It’s his favourite sport after exy.”

Adam winds and locks into the space at Ronan’s side, and they bump fists in a way that’s more brushing knuckles than anything else.

“Parrish,” Ronan says thinly. “They already insulted Chainsaw. We have to drop out.”

Neil can feel Andrew watching their interaction with hooded eyes.

“She probably deserved it,” Adam says. “You usually do.”

“Aren’t you bringing the rest of your hick pals?” Allison asks, scanning the perimeter of the parking lot, scarcely registering the thready challenge in her own voice.

Ronan takes a step forward and Adam yanks on the leather bracelets snaked around his wrist. The raven flurries in the dirt, unsettled by his agitation, and then swoops up to anchor herself on Ronan’s shoulder.

“Ronan,” Adam pronounces slowly, like he’s not in any hurry to stop him. “Don’t waste your limited attention span. We knew this was going to be how they are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nicky asks. “I’m very personable.”

“Of course,” Adam says kindly. “We’re just used to less— bluntness.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ronan mutters, and Adam twitches a smirk.

“People like to trick you into accepting an insult, where we’re from.”

“I can gift-wrap my shit-talking if you’d prefer?” Allison says, and Adam narrows eyes at her for a second.

“Tempting,” he says.

“Can’t make any promises for Josten, though,” she continues. They look over at him. Neil blinks back, not bothering to disprove her.

“Hey beautiful,” Nicky calls to Ronan from his spot on the grass. He’s cross-legged, leaning back on his hands, obviously bored. “What position are you?” He lilts position into a proposition. Ronan blinks and Adam stiffens and Nicky smiles, enjoying the tension. “You have the arms for offence.”

“Yeah,” Adam says woodenly. Neil can see Adam’s hands curl, stiff when they straighten out again. He recognizes the sticking muscle and bone of a person who’s had to practice packing their anger into a box and sliding it back on a shelf. “He’s a striker. I’m a goalie.”

Neil snorts, and Andrew moves his head to the side, a slow, hesitating shake.

Kevin nods. “Your stats are good. You work best with your friend Richard, the both of you.”

Ronan snorts. “Oh, please call him that.”

“I’d like to see you on unfamiliar turf,” Kevin continues, undeterred. “It looks like you’re in a rut, based on your tapes. You’re too static, you rely too much on each other.”

“We always win,” Ronan argues. “We rely on each other because we’re a team. Don’t know if you’re familiar with the concept.”

“Raven boy’s a bitch,” Matt laughs. “I like him.”

“Not mutual,” Ronan says icily. The raven tucks it’s beak into his buzzed hair and makes a mournful noise. He puts an absent hand to her side.

“You’re coming in late to a developed team. You can’t expect your group dynamic to fly here,” Kevin says. Neil nods without thinking.

“Too fucking late, I’m already expecting it,” Ronan says, eyes flickering between Neil and Kevin like he’s considering who to punch first. “And we didn’t exactly come here for the Pig-orange uniforms, fuckass. We know how the team works. We liked the way you fight when there’s a 99% chance you’ll lose.”

“Pig orange,” Aaron repeats incredulously, at the same time that Renee asks:

“Is that a crucifix?” She jostles the conversation off its tracks without really trying. Her eyes are kind and critical, hooked on the inked cross hugging Ronan’s ribcage, peeking out of the deep slit in the side of his shirt.

Ronan eyes her, gaze fixed on her necklace and the rebellious rainbow fan of her hair. “Yes.”

“You wouldn’t know he was a Catholic by the mouth on him, but Jesus has more of his attention than I do,” Adam says wryly. It’s an odd, hasty sort of interjection. He runs hands over his own arms like he’s cold, and Neil considers that he hadn’t planned to reveal so much.

“We’ll have to go to service together,” Renee says sweetly, and Ronan nods unexpectedly.

They’re all skirting around this new dynamic that’s too big to touch, fumbling through a warped, antagonistic set of pleasantries, and the strangled zip of a caught engine rips closer. A car in blazing fox orange kicks and screams around the corner and into the parking lot.

“The cavalry,” Ronan observes flatly.

“Nice to see that Gansey still thinks he’s important enough to be fashionably late,” Adam replies, and Ronan makes a face.

“Don’t say ‘Gansey’ and ‘fashion’ in the same sentence.”

The car rolls up, parks smoothly and then takes its time straightening up. The doors scream and slam open and closed. The contents of the car turns out to be a trio of drastically different kinds of people — a boy in a viciously orange polo shirt to match his car, a girl in what looks like three skirts of three different lengths, and a boy with hair taller than Matt’s, collar crisp and pale against his tan neck.

“Hello,” the first one calls warmly. “Very sorry to be late, we were a titch held up in Henrietta.”

“Is he for real?” Matt asks genuinely, and Adam laughs, delighted.

“They’re not buying the southern charm, Gans,” he says.

“I can’t imagine why not,” the girl says, shoving Gansey in the side until he stumbles mid-stride. “It’s so natural.”

Gansey looks flustered by the time the three of them reach the group, but he takes the time to clap Ronan and Adam on the shoulders. The girl hip checks Ronan as soon as she’s close enough, and he wrangles her into a chokehold. Renee laughs, impressed or endeared by his form.

“We’re very much looking forward to playing with you,” Gansey says earnestly.

“Are we sure he qualifies as a fox?” Nicky asks. “He’s very—uh. Perfect.”

Gansey looks greatly disturbed by this, and the girl rolls her eyes.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Renee says, smiling a little, and Gansey sends her a cracked, grateful smile in return. It’s drastically different from the spectacle of an expression he’d been sporting until now.

“Anyway,” Dan says loudly. “Good to meet you, welcome, etc. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other this year. Remind me who’s who?”

“Oh, pardon me, I wasn’t—” Gansey starts, and the girl reaches up to slap a hand over his mouth.

“That’s Gansey trying to put his foot in his mouth. I’m Blue, this is Henry.”

“I’ve heard good things,” Henry says. “I’ve heard a lot of bad things too, all of them legendary.”

“��Blue’?” Allison interrupts. “That’s not a very funny joke.”

“Interesting. That’s what I keep saying about your team,” Blue says narrowly, and Dan laughs, startled.

“You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?”

“Oh, a couple, at least,” Blue replies. Gansey smiles at her like he doesn’t know he’s doing it.

“You’re a striker,” Neil guesses, speaking for the first time, and Blue cocks her head at him.

“Dealer,” she corrects.

“Backliner,” Henry says, waving. “Best defence in Virginia.”

“Striker,” Gansey says, gesturing to himself. Ronan reaches over to knock fists with him, and Gansey grins as he accepts. Neil remembers reading something about a striker duo with history and balance, and they’re wearing that legacy all over them.

“Should’ve known,” Neil says mildly. “You don’t have the height,” he tells Blue. She bristles.

“And you do?”

“I use this height to my advantage. Do you?”

“I use everything I have to my advantage,” she grits. Neil suppresses a smile.

“We’ll see.” He privately thinks that some or all of these new recruits are going to burn out as soon as they realize that they were paddling in still waters, and now they’re facing a tidal wave.

Dan jumps back in to introduce their side of the team, and Neil lets the mindless back and forth rush around him without any information really finding purchase in his brain. Andrew is dead silent at his side, but Neil can sense his interest from the way he keeps shifting position, near imperceptible. Ronan’s taken to chewing on his wristbands, and Andrew’s eyes are caught up on the silver fingers of scar tissue at each of his wrists.

“Twins?” Henry asks, pointing two fingers at Aaron and Andrew.

“Guess which one’s evil,” Matt jokes.

“Trick question,” Dan tells them conspiratorially. “It’s both.”

“There’s power in twins,” Blue says sagely, like she’s repeating an old family adage. Andrew pushes off of the car and walks towards the door to the court, apparently out of patience. Neil watches him go distractedly.

“Can we see the court?” Adam asks, and Neil glances back to find his eyes fixed on the stretch of the building, twitchy and eager. He has the unsettled look of someone who’s been living outside of his comfort zone for long enough that he shakes when he faces it again.

“Oh fuck, please let’s go inside,” Nicky says, wobbling upright and brushing grass off on his shorts. “I’m burning to death.”

“Lucky we’ve got a replacement backliner,” Aaron says. Henry cocks finger guns at them, absurdly. Nicky considers him, lips pursed, and then looks back at Aaron.

“But do you have a replacement cousin?”

“Cousin?” Gansey asks, curious. “Excuse me but you don’t look— I mean you—“

“Stop,” Blue says, holding the bridge of her nose.

“Come on,” Dan laughs, sidestepping conflict. “We’ll give you the tour.”

_____

Neil finds Andrew in an aisle seat halfway up the rows facing the plexiglass cage of the court. He understand immediately that he wanted to be removed but present, to have as much physical upper ground as possible.

He shifts and relaxes when Neil sits next to him, and Neil considers that he also picked this spot so that the two of them could speak.

“What do you think?” Neil asks.

Andrew says nothing. The new foxes file into the box below, and Neil watches Ronan go immediately for the racquets stored against the wall. Henry is already shoulder to shoulder with Nicky; they’re like two springs set off at the same time.

“We need to keep an eye on Ronan, I think,” Neil continues, seeing the madness progress and evolve, seeing the court bloom fuller than it’s ever been.

“Not him,” Andrew says. Neil follows his steady gaze all the way down to Adam, who’s turning a slow circle at centre court. He can’t tell if he’s awestruck or judgemental, and he’s unnerved to find that it might be both.

“He’s hiding something,” Neil agrees. Ronan brought his raven inside with him, ridiculously, and it circles and lands on Adam’s forearm. The five of them are strange in a new way; they’re a shape Neil’s never seen before.

“Richard,” Andrew starts, mouth curling, “can’t decide who he wants to be.”

Neil doesn’t point out that he was the same way when he came to the foxes. “I don’t like that they’re already a team. I don’t know if I can unmake them so that things fit better.”

“You cannot unmake people like them. They think their weaknesses are strengths.”

“I can,” Neil argues. “What do you think I was doing all last year?”

“Ruining my life,” Andrew guesses.

“Taking you apart. Reprogramming.”

“You did not succeed.”

“We did,” Neil says. “We won.” He looks out into the activity below and finds Gansey and Matt peering up at them. Gansey waves and smiles like he’s in a parade. Renee and Blue are stooped together over something, but Neil’s sure he’s imagining the glint of a switchblade.

“I wonder if they realize how hard this is going to be. This isn’t Richmond.”

“Henrietta,” Andrew corrects.

“Even worse,” Neil grimaces.

“We’re inviting Adam to Columbia,” Andrew says suddenly. It’s disarming to be let in on his plans, like his carefully cultivated filter is missing. Or maybe Neil is his filter, now.

Neil looks sideways at him. “I have a feeling that Ronan won’t let him go alone.”

“I have a feeling he doesn’t need to be let,” Andrew replies.

They peer back down at the team. Ronan grabs Adam’s hand and kicks Blue in the shin when he passes, apparently trying to rustle up some sort of three-on-three. Neil stands on instinct, watching the exchange of racquets between hands, the freshly printed jerseys, pristine orange on white. Lynch. Parrish. Sargent. Cheng. Gansey. Excitement leaks up into the stands.

“I’m gonna join,” Neil says, distracted, feverish. He’s so antsy to feel this new team’s skill set held against him like a threat, so different from tapes and talk and promises.

“Win,” Andrew says, and Neil grins at the challenge.

“They’re just more ravens,” Neil says. “I’m not worried.”

Part Two Part Three

#this is too many character voices to get my brain around lmao #aftg #trc #andreil #tfc au #pynch #the foxhole court #the raven cycle #tfc fanfic #prompt #mine #scars tw #I wanted to write more of this but honestly I feel like it's pretty uhhh niche #Anonymous #ask

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jasonvtodd · 8 years ago

Text

Tagged by: @quexnk

Tagging: @nichtwing @stripperflint @thomasflint @akrhamknight @kierensczerny @daniellewildes @citiofstars @ktrovosky @luxluci @timaltman @alucardsemery @powerovernothing

The Rulesa

1. Always post these rules 2. Answer the new questions given by the previous person 3. Write 11 new questions 4. Tag 11 people

QUESTIONS + ANSWERS

this got really long im so sorry so read more here we go

Matt’s Questions:

1. Mac or PC? Any particular reason why? pc cuz mac is so goddamn mcfuckin confusing bye

2. Do you watch medical dramas? If so, which one(s)? (I’m trash for everything sooo…) LMAO ask @thomasflint (livetexting greys anatomy to her and her angry responses are honestly my friday nights entertainment) also chicago med

3. Do you believe in naps? lool buddy question is do i believe in awake

4. Favorite superhero? Why? tony stark and you dont want me to answer that, we’ll be here all day... but... cliffnotes? because tony stark has every reason to not trust people and allow love in his life cause of his abusive piece of shit alcoholic father, and then being betrayed by the man who was a father figure too him... but he strives to make the world a better place, a safer place. because tony stark would sacrifice himself for others without a second thought and lol thats also cuz he thinks so lowly of himself that whats his life worth anyway right? because tony starks own worst fear is having everyone around him.. everyone who depended on him, everyone who considered him a friend... dying. and him being at fault for not doing something about it. him being alone with nothing but death surrounding him and unable to escape his own head. because tony stark constantly deals with anxiety, alcoholism, ptsd and a whole range of other shit... and mcu did a piss poor attempt at showing it (apart from im3 which was good in that aspect) but he battles with himself everyday and still gets out of bed and tries to create new things. this motherfucker created an element ok. he graduated at mit at age 15 and to this day probably still has thoughts if james rhodes is his friend because he wants to be his friend.. or is his friend because hes ‘tony stark’. because no one has more self doubt and self hatred more then this guy right here... but he still finds it in himself to crack jokes and be a smartass lil fucker. because tony stark tried his best to keep everyone ok in cw and i cant wait for everyone to ask for his help in infinity, and ask who could have seen something like this coming, what o they do now... and tony just.. starring at them and zooming in on his face. and then cut to him looking directly in the camera like on the office and just be like. i did. i saw all of this. if they think im going to save their sorry asses now... HA... (cut to another scene of tony chatting with rhodey: well obviously im going to help them rhodey. im not that terrible. i just want them to think for a minute i wont and see how it feels because i can do that. because tony stark has a heart. annd this got long and i did what i said i wasnt gonna do hi sorry not sorry

5. What’s a quote that moves you everyday? (Like every time you read it, not necessarily that you think of it everyday.) I think that the power is the principle. The principle of moving forward, as though you have the confidence to move forward, eventually gives you confidence when you look back and see what you've done.”” -- rdj. going to get the first line tattooed on my upper arm hopefully soon ayee. also “the hardest thing in this world... is to live in it. Be brave. Live.” from btvs

6. (I’m going to steal from Sam a little) What’s the first line of your favorite book? ... dude can you not do this to me. fuck. ok lets... do like.. top 5 (and if i just do one from a series, i mean the entire series is in the top 5 ok this is laready stressing me out i have too many favoruites)

A secret is a strange thing” - the dream thieves by maggie stiefvater

Neil Josten let his cigarette burn to the filter without taking a drag” - the foxhole court by nora sakavic

Lights flashed. People screamed in the distance. Nick’s back hit the ground, and it was all blue sky and smoke” - part & parcel by abigail roux

Victor readjusted the shovel on his shoulder and stepped gingerly over an old, half-sunken grave” - vicious by v.e. schwab

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advise that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since” - the great gatsby by f. scott fitzgerald

7. Have you ever seen any musicals live? If not, do you have a favorite one? Regardless of whichever, why is it your favorite? i saw the lion king when i was young as but i honestly dont remember much of it and musicals never really appealed to me, i dont mind them, i just dont love them

8. What are the three books you would bring with you on a deserted island? ....i hate you. we’re not doing this. no. i outright refuse. BRINGING MY WHOLE BOOKSHELF.

9. What’s your favorite line from one of your favorite songs? And I'll hold you closer if you go supernova

10. How tall are you? Do you wish you were taller? i amm roughly about 5′9ish

11. What’s a song/type of music that you listen to not necessarily because you like it, but because it reminds you of good memories? If you don’t have one, what’s a song or kind of music you don’t like? lolol was just talking about linkin park earlier cause it took me back to high school and all my emo phase that i never got out of cause ill still belt out all the lyrics hi. basically that whole genre fall out boy, the killers, good charlotte, kisschasy and a bunch of others that are just basically #90′s kids heaven

EM’S QUESTIONS

What was the last photo you took with your phone?

Last text message?

Pineapple goes on pizza. Yes or no? (if you answer yes to this we’re done)

You’ll get $10k if you eat a bowel of dead flies and crickets... do you do it?

If you could wake up tomorrow next to someone... who would it be and why?

What’s the most embarrassing story you have?

Can i count on you to help me bury a body no questions asked?

What do you want your tombstone to say?

What age do you feel right now and why?

Whats a book/film/tvshow/album that you cant live in a world without?

Agree or disagree with this statement .... Hal Jordan is a mess

#i got tagged #text post #THANK YOU FOR THE TAG BUD IM SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY AISUDH i have a lot of feelings ok bye #also i know u tagged me a while ago but i got there

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minycrdjcsten-blog · 8 years ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#neil josten #aftg #hope u like it im trying v hard not to suck #Anonymous #alex writes

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jemej3m · 5 years ago

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Random au idea I had but will never work on but you might enjoy: Andrew is Kevin's bodyguard. Neil is hired to kill Kevin. (in my mind it was also a fantasy au because that's what I'm writing atm but it could work either way tbh idk)

i love this idea!!!! if you’re looking for something similar, with old courts and alliances, i can recommend @gluupor‘s version here!! its amazing

but ur wish is my command lmao so heres 2000 words on neil and andrew with the assassin/bodyguard trope lmao

Neil eyed the gun with mild distaste. He knew Ichirou liked the finality of the gun, the fear it inspired in one’s eyes, but Neil just thought it was messy.

Efficient, sure, but loud. And cumbersome. And so obvious you’re holding a gun.

He had knives instead.

Like father like son, his mother said scathingly. She was long gone, having taken his father right down to hell with her, but that left Neil with a criminal empire and his father’s shoes to fill.

“Get rid of Kevin Day.” Ichirou had said, lounging in front of a fire. Neil had been seated next to him, taut and rigid, like he always was around Ichirou.

Neil wasn’t insane enough to ask why, but Ichirou soldiered on anyway.

“My father wanted him as an asset but I see him as a loose end. I had to get rid of Riko because of that man and my brother’s jealous tendencies: He knows too much.”

Neil remembered that. He’d handed Ichirou the gun.

“He’ll be dead within a month.” Neil promised, trying to not let his voice betray how husk-like he felt.

The first problem he encountered was: Kevin Day was loved publicly, and for good reason.

Whatever. Neil would poison him and he’d be dead before the weekend arrived, with slow-acting Ricin to put distance between Neil and Kevin’s soon-to-be-corpse.

That would be, if Neil could even get remotely close to Kevin.

But he couldn’t.

He’d commandeered the neighbouring flat to Kevin’s, among the gorgeously glittering glass scapes of New York City. He lived here, too, but it was never in the metropolitan area. He lived on Ichirou’s estate with was further north, or spent time in his Baltimore jurisdiction.

Becoming Kevin’s new neighbour was relatively simple: He’d simply sent the old woman an invitation to an eternal retreat up in Canada, after looking at her search history (he never wanted to look at an elderly woman’s search history again). She packed up her bags, and Neil slipped in easily, paying the first three months of rent up-front and bypassing the security checks for such a prestigious living space with his new alias: Neil Josten.

He liked the name Neil. Sue him. It was more comfortable to wear than Nathaniel.

It was upon moving into the apartment that he realised: Kevin Day was never alone. He was with his fianceé, Thea Muldani, who looked as equally adept in militant training as she was in Exy. He was surrounded by his team or the press.

Or, as Neil reluctantly discovered, he was being watched by Andrew Minyard’s careful eye.

A quick search on Minyard revealed many things. He’d been a Doe, he’d been to juvie, he’d been involved in multiple cases on child sexual assault as a witness. This wasn’t public information: This was just Neil’s awfully good technological ministrations.

He also had a degree in criminology from Palmetto, which was where Neil assumed he and Kevin grew close enough that Kevin would trust his protection to Andrew.

Context was great and all, but Neil couldn’t figure out a way around Minyard for the life of him. Sometimes, when they went out clubbing to a downtown establishment called Eden’s, he would disappear for ten minutes. It was an impossible window, seeing as Kevin was never alone.

Neil decided the only solution was to grow close enough to Andrew that he could gain the man’s trust and slip around him. His habits were routine, and he took his smoke breaks on the balcony that aligned with Neil’s.

So every morning, Neil would be leaning on the railing with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Every morning, Minyard would slid open the door, and step out. He usually wouldn’t even look in Neil’s direction. No cordial good morning, not even a nod.

Neil would have to catch the man’s interest.

He’d been lucky in that his father had kept his scar-making to Neil’s torso. If Neil’d face had been disfigured, he’d be too noticeable as an assassin. He had recognisable features as it was: His red hair and blue eyes were recognisable as it was.

So he wore an over-sized t-shirt that slipped off his shoulder and showed the worst of his scarring: a puckered bullet wound with an arc of a knife-blade through it for good measure, and the imprint of a clothes iron on his shoulder. Both were bright red against his skin and impossible to miss.

A phone was jammed between his shoulder and his chin as he took a drag from his cigarette, hearing the door slide open.

“…No, don’t be fucking stupid. No one can know about this. Can you imagine how much scrutiny I’d be under if they found out who it was? They wouldn’t be able to bring me down but I’d have a hell of a lot of work to do to avoid that. No, I have to go. Don’t fuck up whilst I’m gone.”

He threw his phone onto the ottoman and let out an aggravated huff, stamping out his cigarette on the railing. He shook his pack and found only a lighter, throwing the empty cartridge over the balcony with faux-frustration.

“Quit being dramatic.” Came a voice to his right.

Neil glanced to where Minyard was standing at the near-edge of the balcony, offering his pack. The two balconies were close enough that Neil could reach out, remaining hesitant, to take one.

He lit it and brought it to his jaw, as was habit. “Thank you.”

“You’re wasting the nicotine.” The man insisted, with a detached gaze at Neil’s shoulder.

Neil rose an eyebrow, pulling the shirt’s neckline up and over his scars to cover them once more. The man let his gaze flit from the shoulder to Neil’s face. “I’m more of a passive smoker.”

“Pathetic.” Minyard muttered. “You owe me a whole pack.”

Neil grinned. “Seems like a bit of a steep price.”

“Interest rates are a killer.” He mulled. “I’m expecting it tomorrow morning, or I’ll hike the debt up to two packs.”

“Seems reasonable.” Neil let the smoke curl over his tongue before breathing it out through his nose. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll finish that if you won’t.” Andrew gestured to the coffee in Neil’s other hand.

“Black and bitter? Not many people have my taste.”

The man made a scathing noise. “You’re a detriment to the human race.”

Neil put the cigarette between his lips and gave Minyard a two-finger salute. “See you tomorrow.”

Minyard hummed.

Neil slid the balcony door shut behind him and grinned to himself. This would be fucking easy.

Andrew didn’t know who Kevin’s (and by proxy, his) new neighbour was, but he was intrigued. By the sounds of the phone-call, he didn’t seem so noble, and neither did the curl to his grin. He owed Andrew for the cigarette which meant he’d see him again, and would be able to assess him once more.

Kevin had slept like a black-out drunk after getting home from his away game, almost collapsing onto the couch. He hadn’t actually gotten black-out drunk for years, but sometimes Andrew wondered how someone acted like such a hangover without a single drop of alcohol in their system.

He’d woken at six, as he usually did, feeling more than a little sleep-deprived. After a light workout on the rowing machine and breakfast in front of the TV, he took his coffee outside.

There he was again. Andrew would be lying if he said the man wasn’t absolutely blessed in the appearance department, but it’d be entirely inappropriate to get with someone he’d have to see regularly after the fact.

The man smiled from behind his mug, wearing a tight wife-beater and sweatpants that hung deliciously low on his hips with a dressing gown thrown over the top. No scars were on show, barring the slight raised bump across his hip that the tightness of his shirt revealed.

“Here,” He said, throwing the pack at Andrew despite being probably 15 storeys above the ground. “I took one. Cash exchange percentage.”

Andrew scoffed.

“I’m Neil, by the way.” He offered. “Neil Josten.”

“Andrew Minyard.”

“Thought so.” The man sipped on his coffee. Neil Josten. An ordinary name for such an eccentric person. “Didn’t want seem like a creep and start gushing about Day’s stats when we hadn’t even introduced ourselves yet.”

“Don’t you dare.” Andrew grunted. “I hear enough from the man himself.”

Neil laugh was a singular huff, twisting his face into something more gleeful. He leaned his elbow on the railing, facing Andrew with his head in his palm. “You’re not an Exy fan?”

“Over-exposed, you could say.” Andrew wanted to figure out Neil’s intentions. Not many continued to talk to Andrew, not when his resting gaze was somewhat murderous. What had Nicky once said? Bored murderer. Andrew would kill you and probably yawn whilst doing so.

“I gave up on pursuing it a while ago for more…” He cocked his head to the other side. “Lucrative occupations. But it’s still good to see a game every now and then. What are you, his boyfriend?”

Now that was an obvious question. “Bodyguard. Fucker seems to attract just as much bad attention as he does good attention. I’d rather throw myself off this balcony than date that mess of a human being.”

Neil laughed again. He didn’t have a coffee or a cigarette: He’d come purely for conversation.

Interesting, Andrew mused.

Neil was getting bored, and the time constraint he’d set himself was coming to an end. He’d been living next to Kevin and Andrew for three weeks now, and Ichirou would be expecting some form of results in a few days’ time.

Neil had met with Andrew for evening smoke breaks rather frequently, though mornings had become staple. Tonight Neil had offered a cigarette, self-rolled with a relaxant mixed into it so that he’d sleep heavily and let Neil do his snooping.

When midnight had passed, Neil pulled his hood up and his scarf over his nose, swinging from his balcony onto Andrew’s. With a soft snick! the lock came clean under the ministrations of his picks and he slipped inside.

He thought the place would be like Neil’s: Neither Kevin nor Andrew really seemed sentimental, or materialistic.

Neil was horribly wrong. There was an old couch that looked like they’d hauled it from their college years all the way through to now. A knitted blanket throw was across the back cushions, facing the television. A gas fire-place had various photos on the mantelpiece, including Kevin proposing to Thea, Kevin and an older man who had to be his father and someone who would have looked like Andrew if it weren’t for the quiet smile hugging a heavily pregnant woman. Neil realised Andrew had a twin: Another photo of him showed Andrew, his brother, and a taller man with a darker complexion and a wide grin to contrast the twin’s blank faces sat toward the edge of the photo collection.

It was odd, seeing how one’s life could expand to so many others. There was an odd sensation at the pit of Neil’s stomach: He grit his teeth and continued to the bedrooms.

One was locked, the other wasn’t: Neil was right in assuming Kevin’s was the unlocked door and walked into his room.

He was asleep, sprawled on his bed with his sheets wrapped around his waist. His fianceé was lying next to him, curled into his side with only a bra on. Neil wasn’t fazed: He’d killed people in far less favourable conditions, like that corrupt debt tycoon who’d hired Neil as a prostitute and welcomed him in only a leather harness. And when Neil said only, he meant only.

Neil looked around the room. It was small, relatively neat, with large windows and an ensuite bathroom. He could stage an overdose: Kevin did have an alcohol problem in college. It seemed like the only viable option, seeing as Kevin was a world-class athlete with no recorded cardiovascular problems, no other drug abuses or suicidal tendencies.

Neil sighed. He wished Ichirou would give him simpler jobs sometimes. He supposed that was his designed purpose: What was the point of sending out your incredibly precise and professional assassin to knock heads when their talents were best sharpened by intricate puzzles, forcing them to be as elusive as shadows in a crowd?

Neil brushed his fingers along the dresser, ignoring the photo hung on the wall of Kevin and Thea, not smiling, but completely vulnerable and open when looking into one another’s eyes.

Neil wouldn’t lie and tell someone this job wasn’t isolating. He just didn’t have a choice.

I don’t have a choice, He repeated to himself. I don’t have a choice.

A shift on the mattress caught his attention. He glanced over: Thea was blinking up at him, rubbing one eye.

“Andrew?” She muttered. “Is that you?”

Neil said nothing, slipping out of the room and out onto the balcony once more, retreated back into his apartment.

He’d have to ask Ichirou for more time. He needed a better plan.

Andrew seemed irritated the next morning when they met up again for a smoke and lazy conversation.

“Are you alright?” Neil asked.

Andrew sent Neil a scathing look and said nothing. He went through his smoke too fast and drained the coffee: Neil handed him another cigarette, free of relaxant this time. “Did you see anything of interest last night?”

“Not that I can recall.” Neil leaned a little closer. “Have you checked cameras?”

“Nothing.” He said sourly. “Kevin’s infantile lover-girl swore she saw me in their room last night, but I was dead asleep all night. If anyone had been walking around the apartment I would have woken up.”

“Interesting.” Neil said, hiding his smile behind his mug. “I’ll let you know if I ever notice something out of the ordinary.”

Andrew nodded.

The rest of their routine meeting passed in silence.

im gonna write a p.2……how many times have i said that over the past few days lmao im a mess

#andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #assassin!neil #bodyguard!andrew #all for the game #this is FUN #jem writes

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ravenvsfox · 8 years ago

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If you're still taking prompts. What if Neil gets a concussion and starts mixing up his languages? I love your writing!

(thank you so much! I had so much fun writing this honestly also HEY apparently language based confusion post head trauma like.. doesn't happen lmao but lets suspend our disbelief y'all)

It’s USC’s new “problem player” who does it.

There’s a scrimmage for the ball in the last quarter, and Neil ends up bodychecked into plexiglass head-first. His helmet goes loose and bounces away before he hits the floor.

Neil’s 5’3” against the backliner’s 6’5” is like pitting an axe against the base of a tree. Neil’s legs quiver like wind through leaves, and then he’s cut down.

Andrew watches the whole thing unravel, the wind-up and the swing and the bounce. Neil topples onto his back with the brutality of a drop from a moving car, and he doesn’t get back up. There’s an awkward minute of shouting and buzzers and repetitive shrugging from the backliner. Andrew leaves goal just as Jeremy crosses the court to jab a finger in his teammate’s chest.

“We do not fight dirty like that! Jesus Christ Trent, If we’d taken that point from them the win would mean what?”

“Nothing,” the backliner replies glumly, eyes down. Andrew takes it as a prime opportunity to punch him across the jaw with his whole weight behind it.

The guy goes reeling, holding his face and looking down at Andrew with slack jawed disbelief — doubtless surprised to find someone half his size had just loosened a few teeth.

Andrew feels Kevin at his back, and Jeremy steadies Trent by the shoulder as he levels eyes at him. “Can’t we be civil for one game?”

Kevin shrugs, sickeningly sheepish. “You’re in fox territory.”

“How could I forget,” Jeremy says, eyes rolling. He says something else but Andrew’s already turning to find Neil, his unchecked injury like an oven left on - the niggling, panicking doubt of it.

Jean’s crouched at Neil’s side, speaking quietly and firmly with his eyebrows yanked together like pursestrings.

“Get away from him,” Andrew says, dizzy with anger. All the times Neil has defended Jean and the things he’d let Riko do surface and clash in Andrew’s head.

Jean looks up, unconcerned with Andrew’s warning. “Something is wrong.”

Andrew puts himself between Jean and Neil, stepping right where Jean’s hands are splayed out on the floor so that he recoils. He leans over Neil and watches his open eyes, the frost of confusion on them.

“Get up.”

Neil finds him, like he’s squinting through smoke. “Je ne peux pas.”

Andrew grabs his shoulders, unamused. “Try again.”

“It was something else a minute ago. Something slavic?” Jean says. Andrew ignores him.

“Andrew,” Neil says urgently, eyes bloodshot and unfixed. “Je suis fatigué.”

“Don’t sleep,” Andrew warns. He pulls Neil to his chest and drags him upright by his armpits.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Trent calls from a few feet away, his team congregating behind him like disappointed parents.

“We’re benching him for the next couple of games,” Jeremy adds seriously. “You deserve better.”

“You touch what’s mine again and you lose a hand,” Andrew says airily.

“Andrew,” Kevin says, mortified.

“I’m okay,” Neil says in choppy German. “I just can’t… gather my thoughts. I’m— what’s the word?” He says something else in french and frowns.

“Fine?” Nicky guesses, coming up behind them. He’s smiling as if at a sick child.

“Fine is “bien”, idiot,” Kevin says.

“It’s— loud,” Neil slurs in english. He looks sidelong at Andrew and says it again in Russian, like he can’t quite tell who speaks what anymore.

“Move,” Andrew says, and Kevin and Nicky clear the door of the court.

“Is he okay?” Matt asks worriedly from behind them. Andrew ignores him, busy with Neil’s weight pressed damply along his side, his quick mouth suddenly slow and scrambled.

“I just need to sit down,” Neil says in Russian, and Matt makes a confused noise that Andrew shuts the court door on.

Wymack and Abby are waiting along the benches and Andrew drags unimpressed eyes over them. It’s like an obstacle course of tested patience, and Neil is a handicap that gets heavier and more worrying the more he’s jostled.

“That’s one hell of a stupid backliner Knox’s got on his hands,” Wymack growls.

Neil swallows and nods and Andrew knows he’s trying to save face by ditching talking altogether.

“Neil sounds like Rosetta Stone threw up,” Andrew says mildly.

Neil looks sharply at him, not understanding the reference and assuming the worst, as usual.

“You don’t say,” Wymack says, mouth tense. “You think you got a concussion?”

Neil shakes his head, wincing.

“A yes or no would be great here,” Wymack says wryly, eyes flickering to Andrew and back again.

“Definitely not,” Neil says in english, voice garbled like his mouth is full of water.

“Well colour me convinced. Abby?” Wymack looks back at her and she nods, moving forward with her kit.

Andrew takes a step away from her, then another, and Neil sways with him.

“Come on,” Abby says, exasperated. “I need to do an exam.”

“I need to sit,” Neil says in German, and then he shakes his head, flinches with his whole face and shoulders, and says it again in english.

“We’ll do it in the team room, then,” Abby allows.

Andrew half-carries him all the way to the chairs inside the team room, letting him down onto the cushion and jamming himself in next to him.

“Are you going to let me touch him?” Abby says, and Andrew blinks at her.

“I’ve gotta get back,” Wymack interjects. “And so do you, Minyard.”

“Put Renee in goal.”

“I don’t know if—“

“I’m not doing your job for you,” Andrew says, tracking the movement of Abby’s hands feeling along Neil’s skull until he gasps. Andrew catches her wrist and Neil nudges him until he drops it.

“I don’t know why I bother,” Wymack says, levering the door back to the court open with unnecessary aggression.

The room goes silent without him, a tense duo who can’t or won’t talk, and Abby too focused to care.

She leans in to shine a slim flashlight in Neil’s eyes, watching his pupils. Andrew’s skin pricks at her proximity, but he’s not leaving Neil’s back unwatched.

“Do you know who you are? Full name?”

“Neil Josten,” Neil says without hesitation. Figures that he would know that in instant, unflinching English, like a beacon in a storm.

“And mine?” Abby asks.

“Abby—” Neil cuts off, and his mouth stays jarringly open as he searches for her last name. “Winfield. Pardon.”

“And we are where?”

“The court,” Neil says.

Abby’s mouth quirks. “A little more specific.”

“Team room. The Foxhole Court. Palmetto State University. South Carolina, the United—”

“Okay, okay,” Abby laughs. “Smart mouth isn’t broken, at least.”

“Is that your professional opinion?” Neil says, Russian again, and Andrew snaps a look at him to find his face shattered with disappointment.

“Now that’s weird,” Abby says. “You sure you’re not messing with us?”

Neil looks flatly at her and she twitches a smile at him.

“Sort of like transient global amnesia,” she muses. “ But much more localized. Like the language centre in your brain got rattled.”

“Fix it,” Andrew says. She frowns, looking between them.

“I can’t exactly reach in there and move things back where they should be. The brain is funny, but resilient. I’d give him a couple of hours before I worry. He seems alert enough. It should sort itself out.”

“‘The brain is funny’,” Andrew repeats. “Is that the best medical diagnosis you can produce?”

“Yes,” Abby says icily. “Keep him focused. I’m going back out there.” She packs up her kit and rises from the floor, squeezing Neil’s knee as she does. “I’m next door if you need me.”

She walks out and Andrew slips from the chair so he’s crouching in front of Neil instead. Their eyes meet, and Neil holds out one hand, offering. Andrew ignores it and reaches up for Neil’s neck instead, hands roving to the swelling back of his head.

“You should learn how to fasten a helmet.”

“Maybe Trent should learn how to play Exy,” Neil says darkly.

Andrew brings Neil’s face down with a lazy push at the base of his skull. “That was English.”

Neil considers this, watching Andrew manhandling his injury. “What if I’m broken for good?” he asks.

“Weren’t you already?” Andrew says, and Neil knocks their foreheads together lightly, reprimanding. He leans in further, and Andrew rocks back on his heels.

“No,” he says firmly. Neil nods, but his eyes have that curtain of confusion draped all over them again. “You’re concussed.”

“I ‘seem alert’,” Neil reminds him. Andrew pushes the centre of his chest until he’s sitting back in the chair.

“That’s not enough.”

They listen to the crowd outside, and Andrew feels Neil get more and more antsy the longer they sit there, the hollow din of cheers and squeaking shoes turning his ear.

The initial adrenaline is diffusing, but Andrew’s fists clench in his lap the more he thinks about Neil’s unsolved maze of a face, the arc of his body as he hit the boards. The threat of a garbled language centre would have meant death for Neil two years ago. It shows on his face.

The game clearly ends when the applause hits the ceiling and Neil tries to stand, only barely contained by Andrew’s hands on his shoulders.

“Can’t we check who won?”

“I’m sure they’ll see fit to tell you,” Andrew says, already bored by the idea.

Sure enough, the foxes roll in on a high of celebration five minutes later, both of Dan’s arms squeezed around Renee’s shoulders, Nicky trying to get Kevin to smile.

“We won the game for you, buddy!” Matt says, and everything on Neil’s face transforms, like he ran himself to exhaustion and happily woke up to find his body dragged over the finish line.

“We heard you were speaking in tongues,” Allison says, and Neil opens his mouth to protest, but loses his confidence at the last second, and his breath leaves him. Allison raises an eyebrow. “That’s a first. Nothing to say?”

“Don’t make fun of his disability,” Nicky says, and he leans down, gaze ping-ponging between Neil’s eyes. “Can you understand me?”

Neil rolls his eyes. “Unfortunately,” he says in German. Nicky opens his mouth to protest, but Dan cuts in.

“Anyway,” she says pointedly. “We fucking killed ‘em. Renee basically locked them out, it was amazing.”

Renee flushes happily. “Andrew did 90% of the work. I just had to hold it down.”

Andrew lets the compliment slip past him like the stream of a current. He’s more focused on Neil’s unusual silence, like the dam trapping that current.

“You missed the dirtiest pass Kevin’s ever done,” Nicky says, sitting cross-legged on the table and leaning in eagerly. “Kevin “Risk Scares the Fuck Out of Me” Day—“

“You guys trying to confuse him with all this noise?” Wymack says from the doorway, arms crossed.

Neil says something in pristine french, and Kevin rolls his eyes. “He’s not confused, apparently.”

“I’m not,” Neil reiterates in English. “And I don’t need a translator.”

“This isn’t any kind of condition I’ve ever read about,” Aaron says. “Are you sure you’re not making things up again?”

Bitterness floods Andrew’s mouth. Accusing people of faking is never going to stop being an act of violence, to him. “He’s not creative enough for that,” he tells Aaron, as detached as he can stomach.

“Christ, way to tag-team him,” Matt says, visibly upset. “You guys can’t even lay off after a traumatic head injury?”

“I dunno,” Allison says. “Tag-teaming. Twins. He could do worse.”

“Allison,” Neil warns.

“What, is wordplay too much for your bruised brain to understand?”

“That’s enough,” Wymack orders. “We’re done here. Wash up, pack up. Harass your strikers again tomorrow.”

The brittle mood in the room shatters, and the foxes march past Neil to the change rooms. A couple of them squeeze his shoulder or touch his face on their way past.

“And Neil,” Wymack says, pausing on his way to his office. “Ice that head. We need you.”

Neil nods, and Coach taps on the doorway, a final awkward gesture before he goes.

Neil catches Andrew’s eye again in the newly empty room, and he smirks. “You need me.”

Andrew doesn’t respond, and Neil’s eyes widen. He scoots forward in his chair so that he’s in Andrew’s space, smelling overwhelmingly of soap and sweat. “Hey. I actually did need you, today,” Neil says in quiet Russian, and Andrew doesn’t look at him. Can’t.

“You lost your English again.”

“No,” Neil says, eyes low, mouth parting. “That was for you.”

#I obviously don't know french im sorry about it #aftg #the foxhole court #andreil #tfc fanfic #prompt #mine #injury tw #Anonymous #ask

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