#send help I miss andreil

[starregulus]

someone drag me back into the aftg fandom so i can finish my fic plz I beg. The bsd brain rot is eating me alive. I cant get those mf losers out of my damn head

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

TSC CHAPTER ELEVEN SPOILERS AHEAD

STARTING OFF THE CHAPTER STRONG AS FUCK DISASTER BISEXUAL JEAN MOREAU AWARENESS

picturing jean in a pair of raybans is good for my mental health

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“Missed a couple spots. Need a hand?”

jeremy u flirt

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do the trojans ever realise that jean is NOT IN FACT deaf and standing right in front of them when they are talking about him?

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oh ok so chapter 11 is in fact worse than chapter 10

if anyone reading this has ever believed that they deserved the abuse, trauma/suffering they’ve experienced, i’m here to tell u right now that nobody deserves that and it is not ever ur fault, no matter what others might say or try to convince u. whatever happened to u is unequivocally not ok. please seek help from a professional if u are worried about urself or others in ur life.

if u have ever felt uncomfortable or violated in certain situations just know that no matter how ‘big’ or ‘small’ the situation may seem (i use these terms loosely because i do not believing in ranking peoples traumas), ur feelings are 100% valid and u always always deserve to be respected and heard.

i hope u know that u are not alone and never will be.

sending lots of love to all of u

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wtff jenkins is a girl?? did we all know this or have i just read too many fanfics always thought jenkins was a guy?

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It was sacrilegious even in the privacy of his head, and Jean hunched his shoulders against a blow that never came.

fuck that’s a good line. traumatic as fuck and makes me wanna cry for all these boys have gone through but god as an ex-catholic raised queer person i can tell u this line struck hard even though i cant relate to the specifics of the scene

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Jean didn’t mind cooking, but he didn’t say that. This was the first time his room truly felt safe and right, and he was content to hold onto it for as long as he could. He closed his eyes again, but now his thoughts were snagged on Jeremy. At length he broke the silence to say, “Two beds would fit in here.”

jean moreau u are so loved

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“You are not them,” Jean said. “Kevin would not have sent me here if you were.”

THE PARALLELS IN THIS BOOK ARE FUCKING KILLING ME PLS NORA LET ME LIVE IN PEACE THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME TO HANDLE

ANDREIL EXISTS IN EVERYTHING

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Just because he had to meet with this man didn’t mean he had to speak to him.

jean, u diss aaron earlier in the books but really ur just the same as him

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betsy dobson to the mother fuckibg rescue someone get this bitch a ‘worlds best therapist’ mug

and jean, dude do u know how fucking similar u and neil are, seriously like u guys should be besties like-

“It was not my choice,” he sent back in warning. “I do not need counseling.” He didn’t trust her at all, but there was no point spelling it out.

CHAPTER TWELVEE

dude wtf is it with me and napping while tryna finish this book, literally just accidentally fell asleep for 2.5 hrs when i could’ve been reading

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“Imagine getting changed so we can practice,” Jean said.

king is fed uppp

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“It’s not about size, anyway.” ​“Defensive,” Jean said, tugging his glove straps with his teeth. ​Jeremy straightened in indignation. “I don’t have anything to be defensive about.” Jean lost his grip and bit his lip, and Jeremy hurried on before either of them could think too much about that double entendre.

OKKKK JEREMY I SEE U

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“That’s not—I do care. I want you to play with us, and I want you to have fun again. I want to see what you can do on the court and what you bring to our defense line. I want us to finally win this year after coming so close and failing too many times. But it’s just a game, Jean. Your safety and happiness will always be more important than our season.”

GOOD GOD ITS WHAT U DESERVE JEAN

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“Every time you say that you take a year off my life. I’d really like to live to ninety, so please knock it off.”

now the trojans understand how the foxes feel when neil whips out his ‘im fine’ line,, also i’m never gonna stop saying that neil and jean should be besties it’s literally just a fact

“I do not believe you when you are drinking such filth,” Jean said, with a disapproving look toward her drink. Laila stared him down as she sucked a long gulp through the straw,

this book is so devastatingly depressing and explores some of the most horrible traumatic things that could happen to a person but it’s interspersed with some of the funniest scenes that it gives me whiplash

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“Pat and Ananya have wanted to fuck Cody’s brains out for almost a year now. I really thought Cody moving in with them this summer was going to finally get that ball moving, but apparently not. It’s getting kind of pitiful.” ​“Pat and Ananya have been engaged almost as long as Cody has known them,” Laila pointed out as she fit herself against Cat’s side. “You can’t blame Cody for being scared of where they might belong in something like that.”

NORA GIVING US THE POLYAMORY WE DESERVE AFTER CUTTING KANDREIL FROM THE OG BOOKS LETS GO QUEER REP

YK THAT RUNNING JOKE THAT USC IS THE QUEEREST TEAM AND NOBODY HAS AS MANY GAYS AS THEY DO??? IM SO FUCKIBG HAPPY NORA HAS BASICALLY MADE THAT CANNON

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CHAPTER 13333

jeremy is so hopelessly crushing on jean and that’s real of him

meanwhile jean:

Threat assessment, he told himself, and it was almost the truth.

sureee buddy

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They’d arrived holding hands and dressed in matching cream-and-teal outfits. Even their gold-rimmed sunglasses and teal sneakers were identical.

well that is definitely an outfit!

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“Speaking of happy endings, has Laila bought you a sex toy yet?”

EXCUSE ME

this whole scene was so fucking random but jean deserves great friendships

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ANOTHER TRANS TROJAN LETS FYCKING GOOOOOO CONGRATS ON UR TOP SURGERY XAVIER

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‘i’m sure the ravens wouldn’t have taken neil in if they’d known he was the son of a mob boss!!’

uhhhhh…

i don’t know how to tell u this buddy

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dude i just cannot stop think about the whole new world of fanfics we’re gonna get now that tsc has come out like the aftg universe is expanding and becoming more detailed it’s gonna be crazy

chapter 14!!!

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Jean eyed him. “For what purpose?” ​Jeremy looked to the ceiling for patience. “For fun.” ​Jean sighed as if Jeremy was the one being unreasonable.

oh jean we’ll get there eventually

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Jean was a starving dog on a short chain who’d learned years ago not to bite back.

OH MY FUCKING GOD GIVE ME PEACE

MY CHEST IS ACHING AT THIS METAPHOR

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SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP THE PARALLELS ARE DESTROYING ME I CANT FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE

“You are Jean Moreau. Your place is here with me, with us. I’m your captain. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to be doing this together, aren’t we? Stop leaving me behind. Look at me.”

-

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that he hurt you, I’m sorry that you’re still afraid to talk about it, and I’m sorry that you think I’ll never understand. I’m sorry that he tricked you into thinking you deserved it. But I’m not sorry he’s gone. I can’t be.”

“Neither am I.”

TEAR MY HEART OUT AND STOMP ON IT NORA JESUS CHRIST

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everytime one of the trojans says ‘we’re here to listen whenever your ready to talk and open up to us’ and then they go and demand he tell them every secret he’s ever kept

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kevin and jeans relationship in this book is so fucking well written, it’s tearing me apart and giving me so much life

they have so much shared trauma and the relationship is so complex but they understand eachother so deeply

He is not used to having a voice, and he has never had power. I cannot promise he will ever talk to you.” ​“I will wait as long as it takes,”

“Be careful with it,” Kevin said. “Be careful with him.”

-

“Night practices with Andrew and Neil,” Kevin said. ​“Obsessed,” Jeremy

exy fiend kevin day representation

also

“No, Jean is fine. As fine as he can be, anyway. Yes, I know.” (kevin when talking to someone ‘offscreen’) i just know he was talking to neil

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She crossed the room and leaned over, catching Jean’s head in her hands so she could plant a kiss to the top of his head.

this is the love jean deserves

chapter 15:

“Your fourth line has a smart mouth, Coach,” Jean said. “I was hoping he would bite his tongue off in the fall and save us both some grief in the long run.”

jean i love u

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Jean wished he had the common sense to shut up,

he’s so me

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“And keep Kevin’s name out of your ignorant mouth,”

THEYRE SO IMPORTANT TO ME UR HONOUR

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i keep forgetting that jean only learnt english after he moved into evermore and that kevin probably taught him but i love the subtle little reminders every now and then when he has to clarify a word, like when he has to ask what a ‘floozy’ is and:

due to egregious injuries.” ​Jean didn’t recognize that word, but since Lucas was already running his mouth, he didn’t get a chance to ask.

it’s such a good detail that just adds so much more depth to his character

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“Permission to break his face, Coach?” Jean asked. ​“Denied,” White said.

SCREAMING

THIS IS SO NEIL AND WYMACK CODED I LOVE IT

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JEAN MOREAU ON A MOTHERFUCKING MOTORCYCLE HOLY SHIT

catalina alvarez u wonderful human i love u

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jean realising how big the world is and the fact that he’s explored more of california than any other place he’s been before is making me tear up he never should’ve been kept trapped inside he deserves to see the world

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So long as she existed as fractured memories, she was safe and small and sheltered.

oh god don’t do this to me

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Jean gazed out at the endless horizon, feeling small and infinite from one moment to the next.

beautiful, just beautiful, absolutely immaculate

A cool evening breeze. Rainbows. Open roads.

A COOL EVENING BREEZE. RAINBOWS. OPEN ROADS

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SECOND LAST CHAPTER!!! LETS GOOO

“He is not going to hit you. Okay? We don’t do that here. You said you’d try to do better and that’s enough for us.”

starting off strong

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You’re one of my kids now.

don’t mind me i’m just sobbing

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no no no no no no no no no

holy shit no what the fucking fuck

don’t do this to jean rn oh my fucking god i’m sick to my stomach on the verge of fully crying right now

actually dreading reading on right now

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um ok yeah so i read it and to anyone who hasn’t finished the book yet beware there is a graphic violent scene followed by an intense panic attack in chapter 16 that’s is very difficult to read

i did cry and all i can say is thank fuck for lisinski’s timing

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Jeremy’s response was low but unhesitating: “I will not look away.” ​“I do not want you to look.” ​It frightened him how much it sounded like a lie,

-

only redeeming part of this chapter is that neil’s back but i’m still in so much shock over what’s just happened that i cant properly appreciate him

chapter 17 the finale:

feeling incredibly somber as i reach the end of the book

please god destroy anyone who has ever hurt jean moreau

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nora’s really filling in all the plot holes left from aftg - why did nobody question why neil’s hair was dyed after evermore ????? why did nobody question neil being at evernote in the first place???

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i’m laughing at neil’s map print-outs he’s so uncool, also i keep forgetting this is still meant to be 2007

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jean-yves moreau oh my fucking god

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“says who?” Stuart asked. “The dead kid?

stuart hatford u are so funny, is this where neil inherited is sarcasm from?

stuart hatford says fuck riko and so do i

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Neil shrugged. “Do you have anyone who can take on local work?”

NEIL JOSTEN U ARE MY HERO I LOVE U U BADASS MOTHER FUCKER

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Neil offered her a disarming smile that would never sit quite right on his face.

devouring these scraps about my boy

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YOOOO WTF NORA RLLY JUST WANTED TO GIVE JEAN THE WORST FUCKING DAY HE COULD POSSIBLY HAVE HUH?? JUST DROPPED THE FACT THAT HIS SISTER IS DEAD MY POOR BOY

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Neil filled in the finer details with an ease that would have been impressive to listen to any other day

- yes neil is incredibly smart, thank u jean for confirming to us

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The only thing left to ask for was something he barely understood: “I want to go home.”

oh the complicated nature of home and one’s sense of belonging that persists throughout these books will never fail to make me feel absolutely everything. nora knows exactly what i want in a book

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“I can see the kitchen. There should be a door out to where the dumpsters are. We can make it back to the garage from there.”

to be loved by neil josten is to be offered a way to evade the fbi together

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“Tedious,” Neil said. “I’m trying to eat.”

my hero

Neil waited until he was done before deciding he wanted to finish his drink. Neither agent was impressed with their absolute lack of urgency,

i love u neil josten pls give me ur autograph

Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to its front bumper and said, “That’s illegal, just so you know.” ​“Shut up and get in the car.”

i wish neil josten was real

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He couldn’t fear a government who was so easily infiltrated and manipulated

FUCK THE GOVERNMENT

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Neil flipped his takeout box open and started eating. “I’m allowed to visit people.”

he’s everything to me 🥰

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“You’re one to accuse others of intolerable attitudes,” Browning said, and Neil only shrugged indifference.

and—for once—without any of your usual bullshit.”

- browning u love him just like the rest of us don’t lie rn

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ngl i’m never getting over the fact that jean and neil are the same age like this is crazy to me nora whyd u have to do this i cant cope

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“The more people I hold onto, the less of a threat I am, because I won’t want to endanger them by acting out.”

oh neil look how far uve come, i’m so proud

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“Lock your door tonight if it will help, but Grayson will never bother you again.”

THANK U LORD FOR THE BRILLIANT NEIL JOSTEN HES ANSWERED MY PRAYERS U BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL HUMAN IM SO THANKFUL FOR UR PRESENCE

all my favourite bamf! neil fics have him taking out a hit on someone for the benefit of the people he loves and i’m so glad that’s canon

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i’m going fucjing crazy i didnt think it was possible to love neil anymore than i already do

best friends ❤️

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jean tearing up and throwing away the notebooks and realising he trusts the trojans and the four of them going to eat one of cats new recipes after they waited up last midnight for him

A COOL EVENING BREEZE RAINBOWS OPEN ROADS AND FRIENDS

!!!!!

I CSNT BELIEVE ITS OVERRRRR I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS HOLY FUCK

[mostlymaudlin]

i'm simply here to say that i miss you and your full-length andreil fics. i love your writing and how you bring andrew and neil and their love to life <3

hi!!! thank you for sending this <3 i haven't written much since i finished an atom & a star tbh -- i got really busy and then lost my stride a bit lol. but im actually working on something rn and messages like this rly help me keep my confidence up!!

[sepulchralblues]

CONGRATS FUZZ!!! I’m gonna send two bc I can’t help it, obviously you don’t have to do both

Andreil, Q

Thank you, darling <33

Andreil + Q (One missed call)

Okay. Look. This got so much longer than I expected it to, I kid you not this is like 1.2k and it's uh... something. It's probably not what you were expecting, and I might actually pick this up to expand on later but, for now, enjoy?

Warnings for injuries and mentions of drugging.

—

Maybe Andrew shouldn’t have given him the number. Maybe Andrew should have just left that night, without saying goodbye. Maybe it would have hurt less.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Neil was starting to hate that word the way Andrew hated ‘family’.

It was a lifeline, he knew. A lifeline in the same that a man dying of thirst, when tossed into the ocean, didn’t know if he wanted to drown or to stay thirsty.

The ghostly memories were the hardest to ignore.

They crept up on him when he was least expecting it. The shadow of an arm on the sidewalk that looked like Andrew's. A pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Caramel Cookie Dough ice cream on the grocery store shelf. When that fucking song they’d danced to barefoot in Andrew's living room played on the radio.

It wasn’t quite heartbreak. No, Neil didn’t think he had a heart left to be broken.

This felt like his very soul was being shredded to pieces in the world’s slowest meat grinder.

His lips burned with the weight of Andrew's kisses as he stumbled out of the pub and into the nearest phone booth.

Neil dropped the coin once before he fit it into the little slot. His fingers shook as he pressed down on the number keys, harder than he needed to.

There was no need to refer that worn piece of paper sitting on his mantel place. The phone number was burned into his memory from the moment Andrew had pressed the paper into his hands, standing at Neil's doorway with a broken look in his eyes.

 As per usual, he got sent to voicemail.

Neil didn’t even know what this number was for, who’s it was, if anyone ever got these messages.

It didn’t stop him from leaving dozens.

Leave a message after the beep.

“Hey.” His voice was wreaked. Neil coughed once. Cleared his throat. “It’s me. Again.”

He let his head thunk back against the dirty, stained glass of the phone booth.

“Do you remember the first time you kissed me?” His eyes fell closed as he let the memory swirl to life around him. “It was that night after Eden’s. I was wearing those stupid boots you loved, with the silver buckles that made little jingly sounds if I shook them hard enough.” A familiar, despicable pressure started to build under his eyes. “I remember thinking your hair looked really pretty that night. It fell in your eyes, and I wanted to run my hands through it.”

Neil swallowed hard and continued. “We had stepped out for a smoke break. I lit my cigarette, and you leaned in you light yours from the tip of mine. Asshole,” he let out a little, broken laugh. “But you didn’t move away. You just kept staring at me with that fucking look in your eyes.”

Even now, days and weeks and months later, Neil remembered it like it was yesterday. Remembered the glint of moonlight turning Andrew's hair silver. The way he looked, a figure made of smoke and metal, all sharp knives and sharper edges.

He remembered thinking, I've never felt safer. Remembered wondering, do I get to keep this?

The phone cut him off. Neil dug into his pocket for another coin.

“Me again.” He breathed out a slow sigh. “You tasted like fire and whiskey that night. I never quite forgot it. Then again, it’s you. I could never forget anything about you.” Even though Andrew wasn’t there with him, Neil's lips curved into a soft smile.

He was running out on phone time, but Neil wanted nothing more than to hear Andrew's breaths on the other end of the line. His heart gave a dead thump in his chest.

A lump formed at the back of his throat. “I think you were it for me, you know? And I hate you for that. I really, really hate you.”

Something wet landed on his cheek; Neil didn’t open his eyes.

The closing was the same as it always was, was the same as it had been since the first time Neil made a call to this number.

“Call me when you get this, yeah?”

Then, he added, in a tone so soft it could hardly classify as a whisper, “I miss you.”

He hung up the phone immediately.

It was pathetic. Five and a half months later, he was still here, still following the same, self-destructive routine.

His hands curled into fists at his sides even as tears dripped down his face.

Andrew had come into his life swinging a sledgehammer, shattering everything about Neil's perceptions of normal. There was no going back.

A feeling bubbled up in Neil's chest, hot and frothing. It demanded to be unleashed, a sudden desire for violence.

Without warning, Neil turned to the brick wall and slammed a fist into it.

His knuckles barked. Stinging lashes of pain clawed up his arm, but it cleared his head, just the slightest bit.

The anger hadn’t disappeared, but it receded enough for the night.

Maybe tonight he’d be able to sleep in his bed. The one he hadn’t touched since the day Andrew left, because sleeping there felt wrong without the warmth and weight of another body curled around his own.

Neil hated him. He hated him with every inch of himself.

He hated him, because no one ever get over loving Andrew Minyard.

***

Two hours later, location unknown

In the cell there was no sunlight or moonlight. No way of telling time. It could have been months or years; Andrew wouldn’t have known the difference.

Footsteps echoed on the rusted metal steps outside his door. The pattern was light, familiar.

Renee, then.

The latch made no noise as she unlocked the tiny little door through which he was sent his food. (Drugged, bitter, tasteless.)

Slim fingers poked through the opening, shadows against the bright light that entered as well.

Andrew winced. He’d spent too long cooped up in complete or near-complete darkness. He was afraid his eyesight was permanently fucked, because even the smallest spot of light gave him a piercing headache that took hours to fade.

That could also have been a side-effect of the constant, continuous torture, and the dozens of meals he’d been made to miss.

Renee tossed him something through the small opening, and whispered in harsh German, “Two minutes.”

Whatever dead, rotten thing rested in the core of Andrew's chest lifted its head the slightest bit.

Neil.

Two minutes from Renee could only ever mean Neil.

Andrew slid off the rotting slab of wood that was his bed and onto the floor. The slashes on his back screamed at him as skin split open again. The wounds had barely clotted after Riko had taken a whip to his back yesterday and flogged him until there was no skin left to break.

Still, that little phone Renee had tossed into his cell was the only reason Andrew still breathed, still fought through the assignments Riko planned for him every day.

Andrew would continue to be whipped every day for the rest of his predictably short life if it meant he’d get to hear Neil voice in this miserable place.

And if it meant Neil never found out the truth.

He tapped the screen with shaking fingers, bringing it to life. Renee had already set the brightness to the dimmest possible setting; still, the light made his eyes want to pop out of their sockets.

New Voicemails (2)

Andrew held his breath as he listened to them.

Something vital in him cracked and splintered and shattered when he heard Neil's broken laugh.

He wanted to—wanted to scream, cry, break something, when Neil said, “I really, really hate you,” because those were his words. He was the one to always toss them in Neil's face, the one to watch the smile bloom on Neil's lips.

Tears clung to his eyelashes, stung the cuts on his face when Neil whispered, “I miss you.”

Andrew whispered back, “I miss you too,” and prayed that Neil would be able to hear it.

Even he knew it was hopeless.

“I miss you so fucking much.”

—

Send me prompts for my 100 followers celebration.

[willowbird]

For the prompt game — could you do AU 1, trope 8, location 2 for Andreil? I always love reading these, thanks for sharing!

Grad School, return of the childhood best friend, inside Andrew's closet!!! Thank you so much for sending in the ask I'm glad you're enjoying the little ficlets and I hope you like this one too!

-----

Tall people were a curse. A blight on all of society. Civilization would undoubtedly crumble under the obnoxious stomping of their huge feet and the polar ice caps would melt at least in part due to the heat from their big fat heads.

Also, all the tall fuckers in Andrew's cohort were constantly putting things in places Andrew couldn't reach, especially when it came to the supply closet off of the office the group of them communally used. It had gotten to the point that Andrew had taken full command of the ordering and organization of all their supplies. Last month he had even gone so far as to print out and laminate a full-color sign for the closet that read: NO ONE ABOVE 5'3 PERMITTED. SEE ANDREW J MINYARD FOR ALL SUPPLY RETRIEVAL.

The only reason he'd given the extra few inches at all was because Robin, the undergrad TA that assisted in one of his classes, sometimes helped him out and she was a whole three inches taller than him. It was enough of a restriction that it barred the rest of his cohort from intruding, though, as even Renee was a solid 5'8.

Or at least, it should have been an effective restriction. Andrew had thought the rest of his team could read well enough to get the goddamn message. Then he showed up this morning and the fucking closet door was open and where was the box of printer ink he'd ordered last week?

That's right, on the top fucking shelf.

When Andrew figured out which idiotic fucking beanpole had decided to pull this shit with him there was going to be hell to pay. He would raid his cat's litter box for ammunition if he had to.

For the moment, though, he needed to replace the ink in both printers. Which was why he was balancing precariously on the arms of the only non-rolly chair on the goddamn floor, straining to reach the box of ink and quietly promising to take an extra dose of revenge out of each and every person over 5'3 if he fell.

Which he almost did when a sharp knock suddenly echoed a bit too loud from directly behind him.

"Jesus fuck what is wrong with y--" Andrew cut off abruptly as he looked over his shoulder to see who had dared come up behind him at a time like this. He blinked, then he fully closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. When the man before him was still fucking there, Andrew twisted slightly and jumped down, letting his ass hit the seat as he overbalanced on the landing.

"Um... hi."

It had been almost ten years since Andrew had heard that voice. Ten years. In that time Neil had gone from being a scrawny, anxious kid to... well...

Vivid blue eyes stared at him steadily, winged with eyeliner that only made them brighter. His dark russet-auburn hair was shaved close to his head on the sides but long enough on the top that he'd gathered it back in a loose bun, which only emphasized the perfect angles of his face and the soft give of his mouth, the way his chin carved down to a point as if to frame it, drawing the eye.

"Andrew? I didn't mean to surprise you. Well, I did, that's why I didn't tell you I was coming. I didn't mean to almost make you fall off a chair though..."

Neil clicked a tongue-piercing against his teeth. It flashed silver for a moment, matching the two bars that bisected his left eyebrow. Purple studs and a line of tiny hoops trailed up each ear.

Andrew stared, then he did the only rational thing and reached forward, grabbing the doorknob and slamming it shut with himself inside the closet.

His heart was fucking pounding, and he knew his face was flushed because, look. Look. Neil Josten at fourteen years old had been a scrawny kid with big ears and a chipped tooth that was always covered in bruises and Andrew had been so fucking in love with him. All he ever wanted to do as a baby gay was kiss Neil Josten. Thought about it all the time. But that had been off the table because Neil was his best friend and probably asexual and also literally trying to survive. When Neil moved to the other side of the fucking planet to be with his uncle, Andrew had told himself that this was a good thing because 1) Neil would be safe and 2) if there was distance between them then Andrew could finally get over him.

Over the last ten years they'd exchanged regular letters, but because Neil was a fucking technophobe and there may or may not have been an actual hit from actual hitmen and gangsters and shit on him over here in the states - they hadn't spoken on the phone and no pictures had been shared.

And now here was Neil. Almost twenty-four and... so so fucking hot.

There was a soft knock on the door, followed by a quiet, anxious, "Andrew..?" that sounded a lot more like the Neil Andrew remembered.

"Um... should I go? I'm sorry... I thought... I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry. I'll go..."

"No!" The word escaped him before he had time to really think about it. He was pretty sure his voice cracked a little in his desperation too. Shit. Andrew cleared his throat and tried again. "Just... wait. I.. need to get ink."

"Okay."

Andrew did his best not to read into the mystery in Neil's tone. Instead, he thanked the closet gods and carefully climbed back up onto the chair. Another couple of minutes later he had the ink he needed and was facing a coming out he really never anticipated having to go through. Coming out of the closet to your best friend was one thing. Coming out of the literal, actual closet you have shut yourself in to reunite with your super hot best friend that you've been in love with for over a decade at this point was quite another.

Ripping the band-aid off was really the only way to go, so Andrew took a deep breath, put his free hand on the knob, and opened the door.

Neil had repositioned himself and was now leaning against the nearest desk. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows exposing strong forearms decorated with swirls of dark ink. Three fingers on each hand bore rings (not the ring fingers, not that Andrew was specifically looking) and his nails were painted a dark, glossy gray. Around one wrist was a frayed bracelet that perfectly matched the one Andrew also wore on the same wrist.

As soon as Neil saw him, he lit up. A smile on his face that shined in his eyes, even if there was a slight hesitance to it - understandable considering Andrew had just.. you know... shut himself in a closet after seeing him.

"Hey... Sorry again, about that. I know you don't like to be startled. I just... I got excited."

Andrew swallowed, a tough feat with a throat so dry. Somehow, he managed a snort. "Like a puppy. Should I be worried about my floors, Josten?"

"I dunno, you gonna scratch me behind the ears?" Neil shot back, and the smirk that accompanied it was fucking devastating. That's is, Andrew gave up. He lost. Dead, he was dead. There was no way he was getting out of this one.

Andrew did the only thing he could do to keep himself from grabbing the little bastard and kissing him senseless, which was ask the big question hanging in the room between them.

"How are you here, Neil? I thought you'd never be able to come back to American soil."

Neil rubbed the back of his neck, like he was thinking of the best way to explain it. After a moment he said, "Uncle Stuart still doesn't think it's a great idea - but there's no price on my head anymore. As of last month we cleared out the last of... well, let's just call them the old bad guys. There are new bad guys, but they don't really care about me."

It took a moment for that to fully sink in. Andrew set down the ink on the desk and moved to stand directly in front of Neil. When Neil stood up straight, they were almost exactly the same height - Neil only really had a few inches on him. At least he hadn't been lying to make him feel better when he'd told him in a letter a few years back that he'd topped out at 5'3.

"So? Don't you have a whole new life over in jolly old England now? Friends and family who don't regularly try to kill you? Why come back at all?"

He knew why, but he wanted - he needed - to hear him say it.

"Yeah, but... they aren't you."

"Me."

"Yeah, Andrew. You."

Their eyes met. Something in Andrew's chest snapped like an overworked rubber band stretched too taut and all the carefully sequestered feelings it had been keeping at bay suddenly sprang forth like a tidal wave. They rushed through him, filling him up, buoying him until he probably could have reached the top shelf of that goddamn closet without the chair.

"I hate you," Andrew ground out. And Neil smiled, because he knew it wasn't true.

"I missed you, Andrew. I missed you so fucking much."

"Shut up, stupid." Andrew forced himself to take a deep breath, then he snatched up Neil's hand and started dragging him out of the office. "Come on. We're getting ice cream."

Neil laughed and squeezed his hand. "Some things never change."

No, Andrew thought, some things never do.

[sugaroto]

Help I gonna cry

Well not really, it's just 3.26 sm and I'm being dramatic but-

Ok so like a month ago or something I send to a friend pictures (fanarts) of the aftg characters so they would like write an opinion about them, like guess their name and stuff about them

And it was hilarious bc they like mostly got everything right? The worst one was thinking that Jeremy was a bully but apart from that I was like

Excuse me ? Have you actually read the books?

(+ me and my friend who has read aftg talk about it too much so they actually know some stuff, mostly about Andrew I think, and andreil)

But anyways- the thing is

I was looking at it again cause it's funny and I realized-

TWO CHARACTERS ARE MISSING

AND I HADN'T REALIZED ALL THIS TIME

AND ITS NOT SOMEONE RANDOM

ITS ANDREW

AND MATT

LIKE I DO HAVE THE RIKO ONE BUT I DONT HAVE THE ANDREW ONE CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

And im like? OK maybe my phone is acting up? And accidentally deleted the pictures

So I go to our chat where they sent me the pics

And I realize they never did Andrew and matt

Maybe they missed them or something idk cause I had sent all the pics together

And it took me so long to notice

But like bc me and my other friend talk about andreil so much in Neil's card they had written (in love with Andrew) and on Aaron's card "Cries at funerals" (Andrew tries not to laugh at those who cry at funerals )

So I guess I thought I saw Andrew's card

But there isn't one

And Matt's? I have no excuse for not realizing he was missing till now apparently from the fact that the cards weren't in an order (I had originally sent everyone in the order of their jersey numbers) but when they sent the pics back they got mixed up

And I tried to read the cards now in the right order only ot realize 3 and 4 are missing

How do I turn the time back? It's too late now to tell them 2 people are missing and I want to see what they would have said about them🥲🥲🥲

[captain-danwilds]

One Step Forward

Hi @avengerpercy! I realize I didn’t take Brazil’s timezone into account when posting this so I’m sorry this is technically late, but here’s your @aftgexchange gift.  I hope this is good enough for you Cristal.  This is my first time playing in the AFTG sandbox, so I wanted to live up to your expectations.  I ended up using your prompt “Andrew and Aaron talking and solving their problems”  for a little outsider POV Andreil fluff with a large helping of twinyards.   

A few quick notes. Betsy and the joint sessions set the backdrop for this fic even though I am not a therapist and also not trying to make some statement about therapy in general (Personally I’m a big fan, but also recognize that Aaron really doesn’t seem to be in we’re in his POV.) I’m not trying to demonize Aaron or Andrew here.  Aaron just fundamentally misunderstands Andrew.  Also Raven King/Drake Incident references.  

Ever since Aaron had found out Andrew existed, he’d felt unsteady.   It wasn't just the sudden knowledge of how different his life could have been if Tilda hadn't decided to come back to get him or even if she'd just taken the other baby.   It was the fact his brother was a mass of contradictions piled on top of each other and every aspect of their relationship was built on the idea of one step forward and two steps back.

Aaron wasn't an idiot.  When the officer at the stupid game had mentioned Andrew, Aaron didn't expect his long-lost brother to immediately love him.  This wasn't a television show.   He knew by now that blood only went so far, that it hadn't stopped his mother from raising her hand to him or Uncle Luthor from sending Nicky away only for his cousin to come back a shell of himself.  But he couldn't deny he wanted it to work desperately, for there to be another little boy out there whose life might be made better by having a brother in it.  

His first step forward a letter that had to be rewritten at least twice because everything sounded wrong.  His bedroom trash can overflowed with pieces of notebook paper crumpled in frustration or with ink smeared from tears he'd never admit to anyone he'd actually shed.  Aaron must have spent hours writing the letter, typing it up in stolen time at the school library and sneaking to the post office while Mom had been out of it.  

Hours completely wasted when the only reply was two words:  "Fuck Off."

That should have been the sign to leave things well enough alone.  

But instead, he'd taken the return address and written a second letter to "the guardians of Andrew Doe."  

And instead of an answer from his brother, Aaron had gotten a voicemail saying Andrew had gone to Juvie.  

Even the slightest hint of progress was met with resistance.    

Gaining a brother meant losing his mom and never being in control of his decisions anymore.  

Andrew lived by his own rules, an unspoken tally system of betrayals where Aaron would never be the one who measured up.  Andrew wouldn't say it, because Andrew didn't say anything now that he was off the drugs.  Aaron knew his brother only cared about him in context of proving that he'd never broken their deal.  Until he called the whole thing off for Josten.  

Josten, the idiot that would say things like "Andrew doesn't lie"  as if he actually believed him.  As if there truly was some magical code his brother followed that made sense.    

"If you really don't care about Andrew, why does Neil bother you so much?"   Dobson asked during their Wednesday session.

Aaron dug his fingers into the couch.  He hated this.  Hated that the only time he could get answers out of Andrew was when he was sitting in front of a shrink.   A shrink who was undoubtedly on his brother's side. And that in order to get answers he had to rip himself raw first.  

"I understand that therapy isn't for everyone,"  She'd said smiling gently during their first mandatory meeting freshman year.  "More than that, therapy with me might not be your answer,  so don't let today stop you from seeking help in the future if that's what you decide you want.  I can direct you to one of my colleagues who you might feel more comfortable with."  

They'd been meeting for almost a year now and Aaron still wasn't comfortable with her, no matter how many cups of hot chocolate she offered or how many smiles she gave.   They'd come a long way from the complete silence and blank expression of his first individual session or even the harsh words the first time he'd shown up to Andrew's session, but it wasn't comfortable by any means.  

The point was he wasn't about to pour his heart out to her even if Andrew wasn't in the room.  With Andrew there, Aaron had no good way to answer the question without giving too much of himself away again, of being hurt when everything went to hell. Still, Aaron couldn't help but let the multitude of answers flow over him.  

Because Josten waltzes in, every ounce of him screaming lie and danger, and this team bends over backwards for him. Because Aaron's seen enough to know Josten is dangerous.  Because he will kill him if Josten doesn't keep his big mouth from bring the mafia down on them again before Aaron graduates and he can't handle another murder trial.  Because Josten makes it so easy, throwing as many insults back as he gives.   Those are the easy answers, because Aaron's life doesn't revolve around Andrew. He can hate Josten because Josten is a piece of shit who makes every aspect of his life harder.  

But that's also not the whole truth.  Because he saw the way Andrew looked at him in Baltimore, the tender movements in his hands completely at odds with the angry spark in his eyes.  Because Andrew hates people touching him and yet he doesn't hesitate to wrap his hand around the back of Josten's neck.  Because there's something aggravating in the way that Andrew can look at Josten and see something precious when he never looks at Aaron like that.  

Aaron doesn't want to think his life revolves around Andrew, but his hatred of Josten certainly does.  It’s partially jealousy.  Why does this nobody get easy answers from Andrew?  What makes him so special?  

But the larger issue is that Aaron has seen Andrew broken.  As much as Aaron wants to wish Drake away, he can’t.  He’ll never be able to get Andrew’s face out of his head or the manic laugh left by the drugs. There are nights where he wakes up feeling like he still has the blood on his hands, that he’ll never be free of the feeling of Andrew knotting his fingers through his hair in worry when Andrew’s the one covered in bruises.  Seeing his brother like that once was enough to break him.  He doesn’t understand how Andrew can let Josten so close when Josten is a walking danger magnet.  He doesn’t know what he would do when Josten inevitably hurts Andrew, because that’s the type of danger Andrew can’t just stab with a knife.    

Betsy gave a small cough and Aaron knew he'd been quiet too long.  He avoided Betsy's gaze to look at the clock.  They were already a few minutes over their time.   He wouldn’t have answered at all, just turned back to glare at Betsy until she dismisses them both for the day except he saw Andrew.  

Andrew was still angled away from him on the opposite end of the couch.  His mouth was still turned in a slight frown, but Andrew’s gaze had sharpened.  Even months ago, Aaron might have missed it.  It was a sign of amusement, slight exasperation maybe, but also one of want.  Aaron had never seen that expression for any reason other than Josten, and now it’s directed at him.

“Josten isn’t safe.”  

Andrew gave a huff that might even be considered laughter.

“I’m serious. You’re giving him the power to hurt you.  Just because you don’t care about your own wellbeing, doesn’t mean I’m going to stand by and let him get away with it.”  

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”  Andrew waved his hand dismissively.  “Which is good because you’re shit at picking the right battles.”  

Aaron groaned.  “And what do you mean by that?”  

“Neil won’t hurt me.”  He said it like it should be obvious, like he can’t believe Aaron missed something so fundamental.  

“But how can you know that?”  

“How do you know Kaitlyn won’t hurt you?”  The words were thrown like a weapon to end this conversation.  

But Aaron isn’t about to rise to the bait.  Andrew seemed to think that every girl was just going to be another Tilda, that Aaron would let them hurt him for the scraps of affection.  He knew Andrew didn’t decide Kaitlyn was safe out of the goodness of his heart, so his answer made no sense.  

“Why shouldn’t I be worried about Neil hurting you?”  Aaron repeated himself more directly, even calling the idiot by his first name as a sign of good will.  

Andrew looked down at his hands, his right-hand tracing seemingly random places around each of the knuckles on his left.  The gesture seemed both familiar and wrong.   Finally Andrew took a deep breath and looked directly at Aaron.  

“He listens when I say no.”

The words are simple, but Aaron can hear the depth of meaning there.  He gave a slight nod.

Andrew must still see that he doesn’t fully understand, because he continued softly, “He promised he’d stay” before nodding at Betsy and leaving the two of them alone in the room.  

Aaron doesn’t hear Betsy’s chipper goodbye or even comprehend most of practice afterwards. His mind is reeling and even though Andrew only gave him ten words, it feels like one hell of a step forward.  

It’s only later at one of the Fox movie nights that Aaron realized why Andrew’s fidgeting looked wrong.  He’d seen that gesture before.  Andrew’s right hand gently tracing the scars on Neil’s as they sit side by side in silence, barely acknowledging each other but still taking pleasure in each other’s presence.   It’s easy to miss the moment when Neil leans easily back into Andrew and Andrew only tugs their scarred hand closer.  

Aaron hated that it’s this little action is what finally makes him understand. Andrew’s words about Kaitlyn no longer felt like a dig.   It was his brother’s roundabout way of trying to phrase his relationship with Neil in a way Aaron would understand. When you love someone, the world seems safer with them in it.  Andrew might not have said the word love, but he didn’t have to. 

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Tummy Worship

In the Fellow Junkies chat we’re always losing our minds over the fact that Andrew totally has little bit of tummy chub and Neil is head over heels in love. If you don’t love soft Andreil then don’t read this lols ((: Also I might do a linked fic about Neil and being Demi as it’s only briefly discussed here?

A/N: I tried to keep them in character but I don’t think it worked and they’re also written in the way I personally want them to heal.

——————

It had been two years since whatever it was that they were had started. Andrew would never admit it, not even to Neil, but he was probably the happiest he’d ever been in his life. He didn’t think he’d felt this happy with Cass either, just Neil. The blue eyed, too pretty for his own good, Exy junkie.

They were currently lying in their bed in Columbia, Neil in nothing but his underwear because the freak somehow always overheated at night, and Andrew was in a pair of soft sweats but his chest was left bare because most days he was comfortable with that now. Neil was lying on his side and had his head on his shoulder, an arm around his waist, while Andrew was sort of sat propped up against the head board. It had taken them a long time to get to the point where Andrew was okay with cuddling but after a few times, he realised he quite liked the feeling of closeness to his junkie, like wrapping himself around him at night to prove that he really wasn't a hallucination. That Neil had stayed. Neither of them had spoken in what felt like hours but when the silence was broken it was by Neil’s soft and hesitant voice.

“Drew? Yes or no?”

They didn’t need to use that as much as they did in the beginning but if Neil was using it now, Andrew assumed it was for something new.

“To what, Abram? I don’t mind when you ask, you know that.” The tip of Neil’s nose always went red first when he started to blush, something that was so incredibly adorable it made a warm feeling bubble inside of his chest. Bee would call it healing, but Andrew just thought it was a lack of self-preservation skills. Neil rarely got nervous and even rarer, he never got nervous to ask Andrew for something, he always just asked (Andrew hated him for that). So instead of just kissing him to stop the words like he wanted, he remained quiet and waited for his junkie to finish talking.

“I want to lay with my head on your stomach, yes or no?”

Now it was Andrew’s turn to blush. He tried his hardest to stop it, but he could feel his face heat up and he knew for a fact that the tips of his ears were turning pink. Goddamn it Josten. His percentage was going up and he was buying Andrew at least two pints of ice cream. To give himself a moment to think he simply asked “Why?” Because there’s simply no way he could want that right?

“Because I’ve always liked it, Drew. I just really want to know if it’s as soft as it looks.”

“You’re joking right? I’ve got a layer of chub whereas you’re all muscle and abs, how could you possibly like what I have?” Andrew was glaring at his belly by the time he had finished speaking. Yes, he may play a lot of Exy –unwillingly yes- but because of the amount of junk food he ate, it left him with a little layer of chub over the muscles underneath. Sometimes he couldn’t help comparing what he looked like to Neil and trying to figure out how Neil actually liked what he saw when Andrew would allow him to look. He looked back up after a few minutes, realising that his idiot had yet to speak which made him slightly self-conscious. However, when he did, said idiot was biting his lip the way that always made Andrew want to bite it himself and he was just staring at his belly like it was the greatest thing he had ever seen. He finally managed to tear his eyes away when he spoke again, a quiet whisper between them.

“How can you say that? You know that my attraction and feelings towards you isn’t about your looks, I mean yeah, you’re beautiful and you’ve always been beautiful to me but we’ve talked about this. It’s always just been you and the connection we have, emotionally. It’s never been like this for me before, people were just people, but then I met you and after a while everything that felt missing in me just felt whole, you know?”

Andrew couldn’t breathe, it was like he had forgotten how to. His idiot had called him beautiful; no one had ever talked about him that way, but of course Neil would be the first. Yes they had had this talk only a few months ago, Neil had found him up on the roof of the Tower and had spent the evening talking about things Nicky had shown him online and that they had finally figured out why he only felt that way about Andrew of all people. Demisexual, they had finally concluded felt right to Neil. Made him realise why he didn’t work the way everyone else did when it came to being attracted to someone. He had to have an emotional bond before he felt anything sexual towards a person. And somehow, for some unknown reason, the idiot picked him. Wanted him. God, he hated that the gorgeous junkie made him feel this way, but knowing what he did made Andrew brave enough to say “Yes.” And when Neil looked at him as if to ask if he was sure he said it again with more strengths behind it, “Yes, Abram. It’s a yes.”

Neil moved slowly over him, trying to find a position that would be comfortable for himself while also being cautious of the few boundaries Andrew was still working on being able to let go of. Once he was where he wanted to be, he laid his right hand on one thigh and held onto one of Andrew’s after placing his free one into his own mop of red curls for Andrew to tangle his fingers in. After receiving permission and waiting for the body under his to relax again, he started placing soft, barely there kisses across Andrew’s lower belly. His breaths were gradually becoming heavy pants, loud in the quiet room when he finally let those small pecks become open mouthed, causing shivers down his spine. He watched Neil throughout, noticing the heated glances he’d occasionally send his way and the not so secret looks of fascination as they roamed over the expanse of bare skin before him. Eventually, the onslaught of overwhelming feelings became too much for Andrew so his hand that was tangled with the other’s tightened a fraction in warning.

This time when Neil looked at up at him, chin resting on the squishiest part just blow his belly button, he spoke the words that Andrew realised he didn’t think he’d ever deserve but had always wanted to hear. The words that were his undoing, that made him want to hold onto the idiot between his legs and never let go.

“I love you for who you are, Andrew Joseph Minyard. I’ll only ever love you. Always.”

He had never believed in having an ‘always’ but staring into those bright blue eyes, Andrew thought he just might get to have it.

——————

If you hate it then I’m sorry but it’s done now:) I know it was short too I’m sorry:( I have more aftg stuff in the world so if you’re a fan and want to be tagged in the future just let me know!💓

Tags: @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @junkiejosten10 @jostenlovesminyard @oreosndscones @koholania @dollymangwani @certified-bi-fangirl-disaster @hannahoftheinternet @imstupidremember @stop-breathing-its-annoying @fancyclodpaintercookie

[darkblueboxs]

If you're taking requests, maybe the foxes reacting to soft andreil? I love seeing their relationship through outside perspectives

Sorry for the delay! I ended up with two very different ideas for this and wrote both of them. I’ll be posting the other one in the next week or so! [EDIT: Here it is!]This was great fun to write. Thank you for the request.

In the Eye of the Beholder

Read here or on AO3

.

#1 Dan

Dan raps her knuckles against the door to the monster’s flat and waits. Nicky greets her with an impressive mop of bedhair and a baffled expression which smooths over only when Neil darts past, citing brunch with Dan as his excuse for being awake at such a thoroughly reasonable hour on a Sunday morning. He’s in high spirits, from what Dan can tell, rolling on the balls of his feet as they wait for the elevator to arrive. Dan is ready to put it down to excitement over their plans – she has a stack of potential recruits under her arm thicker than Les Misérables for them to discuss, hopefully with a stack of pancakes of equal height on the side. Then she spots the light bruise peeking over the hem of Neil’s collar, and draws a very different conclusion about the source of Neil’s good mood.

She smiles as they step into the elevator, but keeps the observation to herself. While some members of the team love to badger Neil for the slightest insight into his relationship, Dan is willing to push her curiosity aside for the sake of Neil’s privacy. He has plenty other teammates to pester him without her jumping on the bandwagon.

Just before the doors slide shut, an arm bursts through the gap, forcing them open. Andrew is as stoic and terrifying as ever (not that Dan would ever admit it) even while wearing Neil’s foxprint-patterned pyjama bottoms. The quickened rise and fall of his chest is the only hint that he ran to get here.

Neil raises an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of his underdressed partner.

Andrew lobs something at Neil which bounces off his chest and lands on the floor between his feet. Neil stoops to scoop it up, and Dan sees that it’s his wallet.

“Thanks.”

“Idiot,” Andrew huffs. He retracts his arm, and the doors slide shut on the sight of him stalking back to their dorm.

Neil taps the wallet against his hand a couple times before sliding it into the wallet.

“You’re both idiots if you think I’m letting you pay for brunch,” Dan says wryly.

Neil shakes his head. “I said I was going to pick up some stuff at the store afterwards. But thanks. Brunch is on me, though.”

“We’ll see,” Dan says, which means no. “Okay, I’ll admit it. That was sweet of him.”

The corner of Neil’s mouth twitches. “Nah. He’s just making sure I come back with the junk food I promised him.”

“Sure.” And, oh, Dan had been trying to be good, but she really can’t help herself any longer. “So, did you guys mean to give each other matching hickeys, or was that just a fun little accident?”

Neil slaps his hand to his neck and groans.

All in all, it’s a great morning.

 #2 Kevin

Aaron’s trial is coming up. Kevin wouldn’t care (well, he would, but for different reasons) except that it’s making the cousins snippy and fractious. More so than usual. Andrew isn’t sleeping properly, although he would deny that it had any relation to the trial. Unfortunately, his insomnia is contagious, which ends with Neil losing focus at their night practice, having spent the best part of a week running on fumes and gatorade.

Kevin has been patient – patient by his standards, anyway – but the third fumbled catch in a row snaps his temper like brittle bone.

“Get the fuck off my court, Josten.” Kevin says, smacking the base of his racquet against the floor.

“Fuck you,” Neil answers reflexively. He stops to push his lengthening bangs back from his face.

“I’m not joking. You’re in no state to play. Get the fuck out.” Kevin wishes Neil would take it as the blessing it is, a night to re-focus and re-calibrate, but instead he’s glaring Kevin down like he just asked him to eat sewage.

Neil turns away from him to send another ball barrelling towards the goal. It misses by an entire foot.

“Neil,” Kevin says sharply, readying for a fight that neither of them have the energy nor patience for.

Before he can begin, the doors to the court bang open. Andrew stands in the entrance, arms crossed. It’s the expression that ends an argument before it’s had time to start; Kevin knows it far, far too well.

Andrew leads Neil away to the showers while Kevin continues his drills.

When he’s finished washing up, he finds the pair in the team lounge, collapsed on the wider of the couches. Neil is asleep, slumped into Andrew’s side. Andrew looks up as Kevin enters, but he doesn’t move his hand from its resting place in Neil’s hair. Although Neil was the only one of the pair training that night, Andrew’s hair is plastered against his head as though he, too, is fresh out of the shower. Kevin tries not to consider the implications.

They wait in silence for a few minutes, watching as Neil sleeps, properly sleeps, for the first time in far too long. Neither are willing to disturb him, but the night is late and Kevin has a whole host of classes waiting for him in the morning.

“I’ll walk back,” says Kevin. Andrew meets his gaze for a long moment before nodding briefly. The bags under his eyes betray him.

Kevin darts back into the lockers to pick up Neil’s abandoned kit bag. When he passes them again, Andrew has slouched onto his side, having manoeuvred Neil in front of him so they can both lie comfortably. His arm is slung protectively around Neil’s waist like Andrew is prepared to beat off the world to keep him there.

Kevin knows they spend more nights in each other’s bunks than out of them in the dorm, but somehow they’re always up and away before anyone else is awake enough to give them any hassle over it. Kevin doesn’t care, but Nicky can be overbearing at the best of times, and Aaron is… well, Aaron. But here, in the privacy of an empty stadium, it looks like Neil has finally found enough security to drop off at last, and Andrew looks ready to follow. Kevin shuts the door behind him, not quite smiling, but close. It was strange to some, the idea of Neil and Andrew, but anyone who saw them curled up together would see it plain as day. They just fitted.

The next day, Neil is closer to being himself again, and no more is said on the matter.

 #4 Matt

Matt has to admit that press duty with Neil is never boring. The interviewers seem to share his opinion, visibly perking up when Neil follows Matt into the room. They lost to the Bearcats, but it was close enough that Matt doesn’t have to lie when he says that he’s proud of the team’s performance today.

“Some are saying that the failure of the defence line in later stages was due to Minyard’s performance in goal in the second half. How would you respond to that?

Matt doesn’t know why he bothers opening his mouth; the question may be directed to him, but he knows damn well that a boulder in the shape of Neil’s fury is already barrelling in this hapless reporter’s direction. “Well-”

“Last time I checked, this was a team sport,” Neil says loudly. “Was I hallucinating that, or has there been a few rule changes since yesterday?”

Matt isn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. Coach had told Matt to keep an eye on their resident fire-starter as though anyone was at all capable of controlling Neil when there was a mic in front of him. Matt feels sorry for the poor sucker that will one day be assigned to the role of Neil’s publicist, because he’s sure that Neil will drive them into an early grave alongside Matt’s.

“You have to admit that the number of goals that he let in-”

“I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that his entire defence line had already played two full quarters before he even stepped foot on court. People get tired the longer a game goes on, of course defence is going to suffer in the second half. But sure, keep pinning it on the goalie you clearly have it in for.”

Matt claps a hand on Neil’s back. “What he said,” he agrees, staring down the reporter.

They take no further questions.

Matt doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when he leaves the showers to see Andrew and Neil alone in the locker room he ducks back out of sight. He walks into at least one dramatic confrontation amongst his teammates per week, and sometimes the best way to deal with the daily bouts of fox drama is to hide and wait for the storm to pass.

“Point me to where I asked you to lead my own personal crusade.” Andrew’s flat tones echo off the tiled floor. Matt regrets leaving his Ipod in his bag. The conversation doesn’t seem too personal to overhear, but Andrew and Neil have never been the easiest reads.

“I’m tired of them talking shit about you just because they have a vendetta against anyone with your…” Neil trails off. Matt imagines him to be making several expressive hand gestures; it’s hard to condense all of Andrew’s history and circumstances into one word. “…everything,” Neil settles on.

“Your principles should not intersect with my business.”

“Even if it could affect your future career?” Neil’s words are met, unsurprisingly, with silence. “Besides, yours do.”

“Explain.”

“When I first came here, you told Nicky to back off. Not out of concern for me. Because of your principles.”

This time, the silence stretches so long that Matt doesn’t think Andrew is going to answer.

“Point,” Andrew concedes.

“Besides, is it so bad that I’m standing up for you?”

“Only when it’s making new enemies for you. How many does one man need?”

“I’ve got room for a few more,” Neil says. There’s a rustle of movement, and, oh, are they kissing? Matt strongly suspects that they are kissing. It’s more than his life is worth to look. He takes a few steps back, rattles his kit loudly and makes as much noise as possible before entering the locker room. The pair are a safe distance apart by the time he enters, and Matt gives them a probably-not-convincingly-casual nod before busying himself with his change of clothes.

The pair spend the journey home holed up together at the back of the bus, and if he suspects that they’re doing a little more than talking, Matt keeps it to himself.

They’ve earned a little privacy, after all.

 #5 Aaron

“Well, maybe if you stopped and took the time to, I don’t know, explain literally anything that you do, we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.”

“Aaron,” says Bee, a gentle reprimand. He isn’t in the mood to hear it. His attention remains on his brother, who’s features remain the same stony, impassive blank that they have in almost every joint session to date. It’s an expression that makes Aaron want to tear his hair out, or kick his brother’s face in, or both.

“What would you like me to explain?” says Andrew, more of a challenge than an offer. Aaron snorts, because, where to fucking begin?

“How about we start with your little fuck-buddy, seeing as you’re so keen to start on mine.” Earlier that week, Andrew had returned early from a class to find Aaron and Katelyn together in their dorm room. The result, while not outright violent, had been deeply unpleasant for all involved. And of course, Andrew was being an ass about it.

“Aaron. We’ve talked about this. How can you expect Andrew to talk about Katelyn respectfully if you won’t offer the same respect to his own partner?”

Aaron scoffs. “It’s not the same.”

Andrew’s eyebrow… it doesn’t quirk, but it twitches. “Oh?”

Aaron gestures vaguely. “You know what I mean.”

“I can assure you that I don’t.”

“Me and Katelyn. You and Neil. It isn’t the same.”

“How so?” Andrew’s tone isn’t in the danger zone yet, but it’s edging towards it.

“I’m not talking about the gay thing. I��m talking about…” The hand Aaron was waving clenches into a fist as he drops it into his lap. “Don’t make me say it.”

Andrew and Bee share a look over his head.

“Aaron,” says Bee.

“I just, fucking…” Aaron grapples with words, struggling to find a combination that won’t rip them apart any worse than they already have been. “How the fuck can you expect me to believe that you and him… that you’re real. That you’re normal, that you’re like us, after everything those fuckers did to you. What makes him so different?”

Andrew watches him. Just when Aaron resigns himself to the fact that no answer is coming, Andrew speaks. “If I ask him to stop, he stops.”

Aaron bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he thinks he might have drawn blood. “It can’t be that simple.”

Andrew shrugs.

“How?”

Andrew’s eyes flicker upwards, like he would rather be anywhere else, having any other conversation in the world than this one. “We have a system. We don’t touch each other without asking first. We listen to each other. We talk. What more do you need me to say?”

Aaron falls silent. He doesn’t know what he needs from his brother, still, but it’s something.

“I have a question in return,” Andrew’s eyes flick to Bee. He isn’t looking for permission, but she nods in encouragement nonetheless. “Katelyn. What makes her so different?” Andrew meets his gaze dead-on as he turns Aaron’s own words back on him. “How can you trust her, after everything that bitch Tilda did to you?”

And finally, it all clicks into place.

Aaron forces himself to look his brother in the eyes. So much like his, yet at the same time so different. “Okay,” he concedes at last. “I see.”

Because, at last, he does.

 #7 Allison

Neil appears at Allison’s door with a black eye, a bust lip, and the words “don’t freak out,” spilling from his mouth before she can get so much as a word in.

“Great start,” she says, pulling him in. “Who do I need to kill?”

“My shoelace came undone and I ate shit while I was on my run. I just need enough makeup that I can get through class without looking like I’ve been in a fight again. Do you know how many of my lecturers have taken me aside to give me the domestic abuse hotline?”

“You should know how to do this yourself by now.” Allison rolls her eyes as she leads Neil through to the table.

“You’re better at it,” he admits grudgingly, and oh, doesn’t that just warm her heart to hear.

“Nice try. You’re still taking me out for coffee after this.”

Neil pulls a face, and Allison laughs. It doesn’t take long – Allison has treated him in far, far worse shape, as much as she’d rather not think about it – and soon there’s only the faintest smudge around Neil’s eye.

“Can I tempt you to some mascara? Glitter?” Allison asks, waggling her eyebrows as she spreads the contents of her makeup bag out for his inspection.

“Maybe next time,” says Neil, “When I’m not going to a calculus lecture.”

“But that’s the best place for it.” Allison dabs the tip of his nose with her brush, and Neil’s face scrunches up as he tries to hold back a sneeze. His hair flops back down over his forehead as he moves, falling into his eyes.

“Don’t move just yet,” Allison says, yanking a drawer open and fumbling for the kitchen scissors. “I’ve been meaning to deal with that mop for weeks, and right now I have you trapped.”

“Oh, no,” Neil says flatly, but still he surrenders herself to her demands. Wise move.

“Perfect,” says Allison a few minutes later, ruffling Neil’s hair to shake away the last loose strands. “Ready for the red carpet now. I hope there aren’t any cute guys in your maths class, or Andrew is going to go mad with jealousy.”

Neil snorts. “He’s not really the type.”

“Mhmm,” says Allison, because in her experience, everyone is the type.

Speaking of the psychotic little devil himself, Andrew bursts through the door just as Allison is brushing up the last of the trimmings.

“Hey,” Neil says, apparently impervious to Andrew’s thunderous entrance. Andrew ignores the greeting, taking hold of Neil’s chin to turn his face from side to side.

“Kevin said you fell,” he says, relinquishing the grip. Allison half-turns away, pretending to busy herself tidying but really listening, because the monster’s overbearing-boyfriend performances are rarely seen in public yet endlessly entertaining.

“Shoelaces. Who could have seen it coming?”

“I did. And warned you. Twice.”

Neil winces. “My bad.”

Andrew mutters something under his breath that seems to involve the words kill you. The day Allison understands their relationship is the day that she gives up on any and all gossip for the rest of her life.

Then, Andrew pauses, distracted. “Did you trip and fall onto a pair of sheers?”

“Allison gave me a haircut. How does it look?”

Andrew holds his hand in front of Neil’s face. When Neil nods, Andrew runs it quickly through his hair, gently tugging at the roots as he goes. “Awful.”

“Hey,” Allison interrupts, outraged. They both start, and Andrew’s hand drops away, like they had forgotten she was there. Which was the point, really. She holds the scissors in Andrew’s direction. “You’re next, scraggy.”

“When I’m dead,” Andrew replies flatly. It’s clear he isn’t joking. Neil shakes his head at them both.

“Come on, then,” Allison says. “Neil’s taking me for coffee. Give us a ride and I’ll buy you the sugariest, most expensive drink on the menu. I’m hoping the diabetes will finish you off if lung cancer falls through.”

Andrew glances between them. “Fine.”

Sugar and Neil; the keys to Andrew’s stony little heart.

 #8 Nicky

Nicky is fully capable of responding to his cousin’s newfound domestic happiness with maturity and decorum.

He just chooses not to.

This has nearly ended in violence no less than eight times. But really, how can he be expected to let it lie when his cousin, who came to him an unruly, violent teen to whom any conversation was like pulling teeth with plastic tweezers, is, for the first time, experiencing the gay teen college romance Nicky could only have dreamed of?

With his fiancée a million miles away, Nicky has to live vicariously when it comes to matters of the heart. There is no better subject for this than his violent baby cousin, who, it seems, isn’t such a baby anymore.

Nicky is beyond late for his class already when he realises that his laptop is dead. He had been skyping with Eric until ass-o-clock in the morning, forgot to plug it in before passing out in his bunk and is paying for it three-fold. He has two options; pencil and paper (what is he, a toddler?) or steal someone’s laptop. The answer is both clear and obvious.

Andrew’s is the first to hand. He most likely won’t surface until noon, by which time Nicky will have returned from class, leaving him none the wiser. The perfect crime.

Or it is the perfect crime until Nicky opens the laptop in the middle of his seminar to a webpage that is filled with very, very unsafe-for-classroom content.

Nicky slams the laptop shut. It wasn’t a video, none of the sites Nicky knew from his own fits of late-night loneliness. Large blocks of text, diagrams that were more analytical than downright pornographic. Nicky slides the laptop open again, just enough for the screen to light up once more, and tabs up. No, not porn. Informative. Educational.

The girl beside him, although unable to see his screen, is giving Nicky some very strange looks. Nicky glances back to the laptop before sliding it shut once more. Pencil and paper will have to do.

The class is drier than dirt, leaving Nicky’s mind with far too much space to think. A dangerous pastime in Nicky’s case, Eric would say teasingly. Nicky had assumed – well, not that he had thought about it, much, but Andrew always seemed so set and sure of himself that it was hard to imagine him googling how-to guides like an acne-riddled teen the night before prom. His apparent innocence is weirdly adorable. Not a word Nicky uses out-loud in his cousin’s presence, but true all the same.

Nicky remembers his first time. Awkward, uncomfortable, and involving entirely the wrong set of genitals. He can only hope Andrew and Neil’s is better.

He shouldn’t get involved. He really, really, shouldn’t.

Nicky slips the laptop back into place mere moments before Andrew slouches into the living space. Nicky watches him as the coffee-maker gurgles away, thinking.

“Andrew.”

Andrew glances up. Nicky isn’t sure what he reads in his face, but it must be setting off alarm bells, because his hands move almost unconsciously to his sleeves. Nicky holds his hands up.

“Hey!”

“What?”

“I just…” Oh, this is a lot more awkward than Nicky anticipated. “You know, I’m always here for you. If there’s anything you want to talk about.” He clears his throat. “If you have any questions…”

Andrew’s eyes narrow. They flick in the direction of his desk. Nicky remembers, far too late, Andrew’s impossibly perfect memory. He would remember the exact position he left his laptop in. Nicky is busted.

“Don’t borrow my laptop,” Andrew snarls. The coffee brewer clicks, and it may be the only thing that saves Nicky’s life.

“I’m sorry! I was in a rush!” Nicky says weekly. “If it’s any consolation, the guy who sits behind me now thinks I’m a grade-A pervert.”

Andrew slams a mug down on the counter so hard he almost cracks it. “One more word. One more.”

“I won’t. I won’t, I promise, I’ve been there, okay?”

Andrew takes his coffee and his laptop and leaves without another word. Nicky counts it as a blessing.

The next day, he’s working his way through the mother of all essays when Andrew enters the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Nicky keeps working until Andrew pulls a chair over to Nicky’s desk and sits in it. He stops typing mid-sentence, fingers hovering over the keys.

“Everything okay, Andrew?”

“I want you to take a moment and remember how many knives I have on me right now.”

“A lot, I assume.”

“A lot,” Andrew confirms. “If I had any other choice in the world, I would take it. But I have you. So, I’m going to ask you something, and you are going to be calm and level and mature and everything that you usually are not when you answer.”

“Of course,” Nicky says in a heartbeat. He can’t think of a single time Andrew has ever come to him for help, not even when he was wrapped up in bed and coughing his lungs out the day before his AP Calc exam. Nicky has never been more determined to get something right in his life.

“How,” Andrew says, stops, starts again. Today is full of firsts; Andrew is usually so careful and measured with his words. “How do I do it without hurting him?”

Nicky’s heart is ready to melt or break or explode, maybe all at once. “Oh, Andrew.”

“The knives, Nicky. Remember the knives.”

“Okay,” says Nicky, and he tells Andrew everything he can. He wants, more than anything, for Andrew to be safe and happy, and if it involves going into details that even Nicky is squeamish about discussing with family, then that’s what he’ll do.

He offers to write out a list of reliable books and websites for Andrew to check out, ones he used himself and others Eric recommended to him. Andrew shakes his head.

“Just tell me. I’ll remember them.”

When they’re done, Nicky almost claps Andrew on the shoulder. He thinks better of it, hand hovering mid-air before he withdraws it. “Andrew.”

Andrew is half-way out the door, but he stops, which is more than Nicky expected.

“You’ll be fine.”

Andrew huffs, and abruptly disappears. Nicky smiles to himself as he turns back to his essay.

It took him a long time to piece it all together, but the truth is that Andrew really can be quite sweet, in his own terrifying way.

Nicky wonders how long it will be before he has to give Neil the sex talk too. Maybe he should offer.

Best not to; he has some self-preservation instincts, after all.

 #9 Renee

Renne likes to think that she has improved at reading Andrew over the years. Some of his quirks are more obvious than others, however; it doesn’t take a student of human character to notice that when Andrew wants to spar, it’s usually because he has something on his mind.

Renee is hardly in a position to judge, not when she finds the cut and blow of a vicious fistfight as cathartic as he does. There’s still a piece of Natalie Shields underneath all of Renee’s growth like the pit at the heart of a peach. Sometimes the best way of holding her down is by letting her out in controlled increments. Give her the inch so she won’t take the mile.

As usual, it is only when they have beaten each other to exhaustion and back that Andrew is ready to talk. They sit cross-legged in the centre of the room, slurping down apple-juice cartons like kids in the playground, and finally, Andrew speaks.

“I want you to train Neil.”

Renee sets her carton down. “I thought Matt was teaching him to box.”

“He’s a shit boxer.”

“Neil or Matt?”

“Both.”

Renee shakes her head. She reaches back to pull out her hair tie, letting her bangs tumble back into their usual place. “Is there a reason Neil hasn’t asked me himself?”

Andrew is silent. There it is; the heart of the matter.

Renee sighs. “I’m not going to force Neil to train with me if he doesn’t want to.”

“I don’t force Neil to do anything,” Andrew says sharply. Renee winces; it was a poor choice of words on her part.

“Why do you think he needs it?”

“Matt is teaching him how to box. It’s not the same as real fighting.”

Renee hums. “Can’t he do something for fun?”

“That’s not the point. Besides,” Andrew pauses. “Matt only knows how to fight like the fuck-off giant that he is.”

Renee can’t argue with that; Matt never had to learn the same style of combat that she and Andrew did. He may teach Neil how to throw a good punch, but there’s a big difference in stance and strategy when your opponent is a foot taller than you. Renee and Andrew learned that the hard way.

“And who is it that you think Neil is going to be fighting?”

Andrew waves one arm in an all-encompassing gesture. “Have you met him?”

“Andrew.”

“Renee,” he shoots back, imitating her tone and inflection.

“What did he say when you suggested that I teach him?”

Andrew scrunches up his features in an imitation of Neil’s ugh face. “He said that he gets enough bruises as it is.”

“He’s not wrong.”

Andrew doesn’t roll his eyes, but his eyebrows twitch as though he’s considering it. “He also said he doesn’t need to get any better. Because he…” Andrew grimaces. Sharing is still tough for him, even after years of therapy and trust. “He has me to protect him.”

“As I said,” Renee says, smiling. “He’s not wrong.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He has his moments.”

They finish their juice boxes in silence.

“Well,” says Renee, getting back to her feet. Her legs may be going stiff, but there’s still some fight left in her. There always is. “I may not be able to train Neil, but at least I can train his bodyguard to the best of my ability.” She holds her hand out to Andrew. After a moment of careful consideration, he takes it, using the pull to swing himself to his feet. “One more round?”

Andrew nods, determination setting in his eyes like concrete. “One more round.”

Renee likes to think that she has improved at reading Andrew over the years. This time, as they trade hits and kicks, it isn’t anger or frustration powering Andrew’s movements; it’s something far more powerful.

She thinks – hopes – prays – that the worst of Neil’s fights are behind them. All the same, she sleeps a little easier knowing that, should the day come, Andrew will be at his back with a knife in each hand.

That’s love, after all.

.

Thank you for reading - please let me know what you thought

Still open to requests!

[polzkadotz]

I was tagged by @nakasomethingkun! Thank you, I was so bored, you have no idea kospaskapoksop

rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). see if there are any patterns. choose your favorite opening line. then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

I have only 18 works written by me on ao3 (19 posted, one of them was a translation), so the last ones will have to be from my abandoned wips, maybe!

I’m also not going to follow the order i posted them, otherwise the series would be all over the place and my brain doesn’t enjoy that much disorganization lmao

1. tell me you’ll come home (even if it’s just a lie) - (The kandreil the host AU)

“There was absolutely nothing left for Andrew to protect anymore.”

2. Heartbeat - (the andreil faerie au)

“As Andrew walked through the forest, he couldn’t help but ponder over what a fucking difference it was from the last time he had been allowed near this particular part of Faerie land.”

3. third time’s the charm - (the andreil hp au)

“It happened when they were almost near the end of their raid.”

4. a heart’s a heavy burden - (the hp au missing scene)

“... I don’t think I’m going to remember my confessions for a little while.”

5. The Nekomancer (the andrew is a necromancer and neil died in Baltimore au)

“Andrew deposited the orange cat on top of Neil’s grave and looked at the engraving on the tombstone.”

6. from the ashes you crawl - (the andreil dragon au 1)

“Neil was watching the sunrise and trying not to feel sorry for himself.”

7. better not to breathe than to breathe a lie - (the andreil dragon au 2)

“At the end of the day, it was hard to admit Wymack had been right: Neil definitely needed to find a fucking new hobby.”

8. to save his life (he crawls like a worm from a bird) - (the andreil dragon au 3)

“It all started, unfortunately, with the Fox Security’s employees spreading a shared belief between themselves that Neil had no concept of what a healthy relationship looked like.”

9. the seas be ours and by the powers where we will, we’ll roam - (the stucky pirates of the caribbean au)

“Honestly, Steve didn’t know if he was excited about finally going onboard a ship that would sail with him on it or if he was somewhat disappointed to be dragged onto it by pirates.“

10. forgive our sins forged at the pulpit - (the nb mobster neil/cop andrew au)

“Are we really going to start the gender discussion again?”

11. devil’s got us all in his pockets - (the andreil constantine au)

“Death knocked on everybody’s door, sooner or later, regardless of their feelings about the mortal condition.”

12. The pumpkin is begging, “please grab me” - (the horror park, nicky/erik fic)

“When Andrew voluntarily offered to take all three of them—Kevin, Aaron, and Nicky—to a local theme park, Nicky should’ve suspected there was something funky going on.”

13. dress me up and watch me die - (the andreil coldest girl in coldtown au/vampire au)

“At the end of the day, Neil was thoroughly aware that currently he was one of the luckiest vampires in the world.”

14. you’re not as real as i am - (the andreil cryptid au)

“Abandoned houses were the godsend (or the capitalist-send) of Neil's life as a runaway.”

15. the tiny /things/ (not people) - (the andreil inkheart au)

“The day Andrew Minyard found out about the powers hidden in his tongue (other than the powers he discovered at the backroom of a nightclub) was also the day that he had the satisfaction of doing something he'd dreamed about for years: hitting someone with an Exy racquet for real.”

16. build god, then we’ll talk - (the jeanmarco faerie au)

“Jean was a step away from tumbling into slumber when he was awakened by a fairly loud thump on his window.”

17. don’t quote the Wikipedia page - (the stucky mediator au)

“You know, Bucky Barnes considers himself a good boyfriend, objectively.”

18. smooth - (the jeanmarco highschool au)

“Marco Bodt was failing miserably in English.”

19. the apocalyptic andreil au where neil was stunged by a giant insect - abandoned wip for the aftg rbb)

“Even though that was the most common cause of death in this post-apocalyptic world, Andrew and Neil had pretty much agreed since day one that death by giant insect was lame, to say the least, and they would not go down like that.”

20. the andrew x neil candy contest - (abandoned wip from the 2019 october madness)

“Andrew was, predictably, a big fan of Halloween.”

                                                              ***

I tried to find my soul eater au wip but I can’t remember where i wrote a snippet of it lmaooooooooo

What I can figure out from my first lines is that I don’t like them to be all that lengthy, usually! I really love the first line from the inkheart au, no questions about it lmaoooooooo

I won’t tag 10 because i’m braindead, but I can tag five: @elia-nna @foxy-exy​ @lovelyeskel @boromirgondor @carterchilcott

[luci-cunt]

Hey, idk I'd you're still doing this but for the AU prompt mash up thing, andriel with royal and criminal! 😊(only if you want to of course)

Yes indeed-y I am still doing this and loving it!! love you anon!!

[Psst– send me two fic prompts and I’ll tell you how I’d mash them ;)]

Oh boy I love royal aus and I love criminals and I love andreil so this is everything I hope you enjoy non!!!!

(sorry in advance I really couldn’t stop myself, it just kept. on. going. XD):

So, Luther is king of… we’ll call it something super original: Carolina.

He’s crazy, super religious and burns people for being “witches” and stuff.

Tilda is his sister (duh), she’s also crazy but in a “I’m-gonna-go-on-a-forty-day-bender-and-come-back-unwed-and-pregnant” kinda way.

When she actually does this, Luther flips, covers the whole thing up, and throws a ball to celebrate her very sudden marriage. At the ball tho, this old lady comes up and asks if Tilda wants to know the gender of the baby, which is crazy, cause no one knows she’s pregnant ‘cept Luther and Tilda. Luther tosses the chick into a fire but not before she can spout off a prophecy, something clever and pretty vague and easily mis-readable like–

“REUNITED TWINS WILL BE YOUR DOWNFALL YOU ROTTING SIRE! AND BEWARE THE BUTCHER’S HEIR!”

However, the prophecy counts death as a reunion, so Luther can’t just kill both of them and he decides killing one of them is too risky. Luther scars one of the boys so they won’t be so identical and then boots him.

And so, Andrew Doe grows up family-less and scarred while Aaron grows up a very well guarded secret who’s not allowed to leave the palace. No one knows that Tilda has a son– let alone two– and everyone assumes the only heir to the throne is Nicholas Hemmick who’s on a weirdly long business trip? 

(naw he ran and fell in love with his husband and is thriving on another continent)

That bit about the Butcher is pretty concerning, since Luther’s main executioner is Nathan Wesninski, the infamous Moriyama family Butcher who was given as a gift of good will to Luther. It’s not like he can kill Nathan, so he just bans him from ever having kids.

Nathan’s like “fine by me” so exactly 0 of the women he fucks survive to tell the tale.

UNTIL– Mary. She escapes just barely and nine months later Neil is born but here he’s called Abram and not Nathaniel for obvious reasons XD

Anyways, Mary raises Neil on the run at the same time as Andrew’s doing the opposite of thriving. They meet by accident, Mary leaves Neil in the town Andrew’s living in and Andrew tries to rob Neil and almost gets gutted for it.

They’re like, 13 so Andrew’s like “teach me how to do that now” and Neil’s like “no go away” and he bolts off to find a new hiding spot. Andrew finds him though, and Neil runs off again. Rinse and repeat. (look, Andrew’s like 14ish and bored out of his mind)

Eventually Neil gives in and agrees to teach Andrew to protect himself if Andrew agrees to steal some fresh fruit for Neil as payment

Andrew agrees, steals fruit and Neil starts training with him and they become quick friends. Neil mentions he wants to become a Knight someday and explains that him and his mother are running from his father (but doesn’t mention who that is)

Andrew spills that he’s never had anyone and that he thinks Knights are stupid.

But then Mary returns, she snatches Neil up and whisks him away to another town and Andrew’s alone again. He doesn’t like this, and there’s nothing in the town to keep him, so he finds Neil again.

Mary catches on and picks up the pace, threatens Andrew, and just tries to loose the kid any way she can but no matter what he always pops back up.

Eventually Nathan catches up to them, but this time Andrew is there. Neither he or Neil are fast enough to save Mary but they get themselves away to safety.

Together, in the dark of a barn with sheep and pigs rustling around in the warm night air, they make a vow. They swear to kill Nathan Wesninski.

Neil still wants to be a knight but he realizes that becoming one of the kings soldiers in order to kill one of the kings men isn’t exactly the smartest idea, so instead, him and Andrew go to Palmetto, a tiny little kingdom that’s on the verge of death and has an extraordinary crime rate. The queen, Kayleigh Day, died and her son went mysteriously missing, leaving the kingdom in turmoil.

Wymack is the leader of one of the largest gangs in Palmetto, but Neil and Andrew go to one of the smaller gangs first. They join, work their way up, and then talk to Wymack as equals, having taken over the gang. Wymack’s impressed, if a little wary of the two, and he offers Ally-ship.

(btw this takeover has taken years, they’re like, roughly 20′s now)

The two agree and tell Wymack about their plan to kill Nathan, Wymack admits to having contacts within the castle who could help but– it comes at a price.

He knows where the real prince of Palmetto is, and he needs them to go and rescue him. Neil and Andrew don’t like this plan but Wymack’s help is kind of necessary so they agree, queue a kickass rescue/ kidnap scene where Neil, Andrew, and the foxes all gang up to save Kevin who doesn’t know he’s being saved. 

During this tho, they run into Riko since Kevin’s basically his personal servant, his “2nd in command” blah blah or whatever

Riko has met Aaron, and he knows vaguely about the prophecy because it was kind of a hot topic, but, as far as he AND the Moriyama’s were aware Tilda only gave birth to Aaron, except, Andrew is just uncannily similar to Aaron and– oh is that Butcher hair? What did you say your name was? Neil? huh…

Riko manages to trick Neil into getting caught but Andrew and the rest of the gang escape with Kevin. Riko tries to get Neil to admit who he and Andrew are but Neil won’t admit he knows who Nathan is and he genuinely has no idea who Aaron is. 

By the time Riko finds out Kevin’s gone he’s beyond pissed. He doesn’t want to admit that he lost Day (who’s going by Kevin. No last name, the More-yams aren’t very good at hiding people) and he doesn’t want to hand Neil over without knowing that he’s the Butchers son. 

So he decides he’ll handle the whole problem himself, and then boast to Ichirou about how clever he is later, so he tells Andrew that he’ll give Neil back if Andrew gives Kevin back. 

Andrew’s like .2 seconds from doing just that but he also knows Riko probably doesn’t plan on giving Neil back at all, so he agrees to the deal but crafts a plan– he can’t kill Riko, but he can embarrass him to the point of Riko not being about to say shit without fucking himself over. 

And so Andrew takes Renee and a couple other foxes and they go to meet Riko, little does Riko know that Kevin is actually a bear enchanted to look like a man and also enchanted to be chill until they let him go (Renee’s a witch, forgot to mention that). 

However, little does Andrew know but Riko’s cursed Neil so that he has to come back to Riko in at least two days or Andrew will die. 

The deal goes down, Neil’s traded for bear-Kevin and it all seems to work out well since as soon as Andrew’s got Neil the whole group books it and once they’re out of eyesight they hear roaring and screaming. 

Everyone celebrates but Kevin knows it was too easy and he asks Neil about it, which leads to Neil spilling the facts. Kevin tells Neil that Riko doesn’t have that kind of power, there’s no way he could cast a curse that effects someone he’s never touched, but Neil doesn’t want to risk it. 

Unfortunately (or fortunately) for Neil, Kevin tells Andrew and so when Neil comes to do the whole “thank you, you were amazing,” Andrew just locks him in a room. 

There’s some tense waiting since there’s a slim chance that Riko does have that power and Andrew’s about to die– but then the deadline’s up and Andrews still around!

Now Andrew and Neil have another name on their list though, Nathan and Riko gonna die. 

Neil tells Andrew about Aaron, and they question Kevin, who barely knows anything but Andrew decides he wants to steal Aaron since their first kidnapping was so successful. 

Uuuuh, this is really long so: they kill Riko, Nathan, and Luther, Kevin is back to being king of Palmetto and quickly takes over Carolina and everyone lives happily ever after. 

(idk, if you want the ending or some shiz lemme know XDD or if you want a dif. prompt mash up also lemme know! This is so much fun XD)

[meanminyxrd]

smokey eyes by lincoln but its andreil

i doubt anyone is going to fully read through this, but i like to song analyze. i like to take songs i find and explain why i’ve added them to my aftg playlists. this first song i’m going to “explain”, i suppose, is smokey eyes by lincoln. it’s added to neil’s playlist.

The first verse is as follows:

Smokey eyes, are you feeling good?

For now, you’re here with me

Seems like we’ve waited long enough

For someone else to make us feel complete

It’s not a bitter flavor, and it’s not a sweeter drink

I’m scared to ask you if you would do the same for me

at the beginning of whatever this thing with andrew is, neil believes that he is not important at all to andrew. he thinks that andrew doesn’t care as much as he himself does. but he’s okay with that; he’s gonna die by the end of the year anyways, so might as well have a good time. but still, it hurts. ‘are you feeling good?’—he wants to make andrew happy like andrew makes him feel happy. he wants to make andrew feel safe like andrew makes him feel safe. and for fucks sake, they HAVE waited long enough to feel happy and complete. they haven’t had anything like… THIS… their whole lives. and what they have, it isnt stereotypically sweet, but it isn’t in any means bad or bitter. it works out for them, and that’s what matters. and he cares so much about andrew that it hurts, it almost tears him apart to suddenly care about anyone but himself, but he doesnt think andrew cares back and is too scared to ask.

Smokey eyes; that’s your name, isn’t it?

At least that’s what I call you

When I call you, do you shake the way I shake

When I call to say I’m through?

“No, I shake the way you do at shows

So people know you’re cool

Violently, but still controlled enough to screw.”

you cannot tell me neil doesn’t come up with nicknames for andrew. my favorite head canons come from when neil is sleepy and calls andrew ‘drew and i get so weak reading them. as for the shaking part, its like neil’s saying ‘if i called to end it, whatever this thing is, i would be heartbroken and shaking from the anxiety and pain of it all. would you?’ and the only answer he can imagine coming back is that andrew doesnt care, and that all he was was a cheap fuck, because in the beginning that’s all andrew dares to show.

now, after the hotel in baltimore scene, he thinks andrew cares at this point. why else would andrew have fought for him to stay? but we all know how absolutely fucking oblivious neil can be. when he’s with aaron at the cabin during their vacation, he expresses he doesn’t believe andrew would care enough to do anything drastic for him. he genuinely believes that if aaron asked andrew to drop neil, that andrew would in order to keep his promise.

cut to the chorus of the song:

So help me make amends with all my friends

Most other people are just dead ends

There’s nothing worse than making friends

again, after baltimore, he knows andrew cares, but he doesnt know what to do about it or how exactly to cope with this revelation. if andrew cares, then it can’t be that much, right? because what could neil josten, a made up character and personality, have to offer to any of the foxes? yet he needs to make amends with the foxes. they’re all he has, and leaving them would break his heart. he is basically begging andrew not to send him away, begging wymack to let him stay. he wants to make amends, and most people who he’s tried to trust have just hurt him, so they’re dead ends. he hates that he’s attached because what could be worse than getting attached? but he cares, and he wants to fix it, fix this. he knows lying to them was wrong and he thinks the foxes will shun him because he’s the son of the butcher and also the yakuza is not just after kevin but him as well. he hates that he’s attached, but he is, and he wants to fix it.

Sticky thighs, are you wild now or just a memory?

Some people want to be your friend

Some people just want to be free

And the worst thing about me is that I’m somewhere in between;

I might miss you, but I’m still trying to get clean

‘some ppl wanna be ur friend’, the upperclassmen do attempt to include andrew in things, a lot more after neil kinda coaxes them to but the same nonetheless. it’s not easy trying to include the monsters, but neil’s relationship with both “sides” of the team are important to him, so each side tries their best to at least attempt to get along. ‘some ppl just want to be free’ ie aaron. aaron wanted out of the deal but didn’t know how to really get around it. nicky wanted to be more friendly with the upperclassmen but was held back by andrew’s rules. and neil, he’s somewhere in between. he wants to be (boy)friends with andrew, but he also still has this feeling of wanting to run, to leave before andrew leaves, and when he thinks of leaving he misses andrew but he’s also just trying to do what he thinks is best for both of them.

You’ve had enough to drink

You know you’re drowning in the flavor of

Cough syrup and Vicodin

You’ve got the bitter flavor down so

Dab the sweeter drink on a napkin, then

Hold it up to your mouth so you can sleep

andrew usually doesn’t get drunk, as he states he knows his limits, but he totally does when he’s really upset and isn’t gonna be driving. for instance, after a rough game without his meds he would be rewarded with alcohol from wymack. in the author’s notes, there’s a scene where andrew goes to wymack’s apartment to talk about neil and he chugs alcohol then, too. whether he’s able to admit it or not, andrew abuses alcohol as a way to cope. this lyric, to me, alludes to the use of drugs or drinks to cope.

Quiet lies that you’re telling to

Those black and screaming skies...

I hope you’re walking around campus

Contemplating your own smallish size

This is not what all my idols told me college would be like

I hope someday you learn to take your own advice

the quiet lies are in the blank stares, the flat expressions, the mean words and obvious apathy. andrew’s apathy keeps him safe, but neil sees through it. he knows its a lie. he’s knows that there’s more to this misunderstood monster and he wants to learn all about it. he hopes that andrew is able to think about bigger things, even when neil isnt there to try and get him to. he hopes andrew isn’t as impassive as he tries to make others believe. he hopes, and truly believes, that somewhere in there, andrew cares about neil.

furthermore, college is nothing like its made out to be. college, for neil, has been both hell and heaven. he never thought he’d even end up going, let alone go to play exy of all things. andrew is always giving neil advice, but he never follows any of it himself. andrew is all about getting neil to open up to him, but is hesitant to open up as well. neil understands, but he also hopes andrew warms up to him a bit. he enjoys their trust for trust relationship and genuinely wishes that one day andrew will be okay. maybe not good, but okay. because that’s a start.

and, scene.

thank you for reading if you read this far! i’ll probably end up doing more, tbh, because i really enjoy writing these. that’s all for now, though!

[gluupor]

Andreil. A Knight and Day AU, please!

So, uh, I have no idea what this is. I’ve never seen Knight and Day and only have the vaguest idea what it’s about (spies, maybe???). Instead of doing the logical thing, and admitting that and turning down the request or looking into the movie, instead I wrote this: which is definitely not what you wanted or asked for. Oh, but @annawrites it has a fake relationship! But again, probably not what you wanted. Sorry anon! Enjoy anyway, I guess?

Whenever anyone asked Neil what he did for a living, he responded by saying he was a spy. This always was met with impressed faces and probing questions about his job. Was it like being James Bond? everyone always wanted to know. Was he out there, taking names and kicking ass? Neil always tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially and said that he couldn’t talk about it, that it was classified.

He wasn’t lying. He was a spy. What he didn’t mention was that he didn’t work for the CIA or the FBI or the NSA. No, he worked for the IRS. He was an accountant spy.

His job consisted of going undercover at suspect companies and looking for evidence that they were committing tax fraud or other white collar crime. He suspected that all the people who were so impressed with his profession would be less so if they knew the particulars.

Luckily, there weren’t all that many people who asked. He socialized mainly with his coworkers at the IRS (who, obviously, were aware of what he did for a living) or with his coworkers when he was undercover (and it’s not like he could tell them that he was spying on them).

In general, he liked his work. It brought together his two biggest talents: math and lying about his identity. He knew that some of his coworkers, like Dan and Matt, had lofty goals and ideals about making the world a better place by punishing the rich, but Neil was in it for the money.

As good as he was (and he was very good) every so often he made mistakes. Like today.

“Come on, pick up,” he muttered into his phone. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

“Foxes’ Dry Cleaning,” answered Dan’s cheerful voice. “We clean up your messes.”

“Hey, babe,” said Neil.

“‘Babe’?” repeated Dan. “Our relationship seems to have gotten a lot more serious without my knowledge.”

“How are you? Still free tonight?”

“I’m pretty sure that your current identity doesn’t have a significant other,” sighed Dan. “What happened?”

“Well, you know how I wasn’t planning on being out at work?” asked Neil.

“Neil,” groaned Dan.

“I know, but I was caught off guard, Chad,” said Neil, testily. “So I need to know if you’re free to come to the office party tonight?”

“Everyone’s busy.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” said Neil. “I know that, but I would really appreciate—”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Everyone wants to meet my husband.”

“You’re usually better at obfuscating,” grumbled Dan. “Someone will be there by five.”

“Great,” said Neil in relief. “It means a lot to me. Love you.”

“I’m going to tell Andrew you said that.”

“Okay, bye.” Neil hung up and rubbed a hand through his hair. Goddamn Barbara. This was all her fault.

She was one of those well-meaning busybody types with her nose in everyone’s business, telling them how to live their lives. Neil did not feel guilty at all that he was probably going to be arresting her for tax evasion in the near future.

He’d been doing pretty well at brushing her off when she asked about his personal life, sharing only little bits about his fake background. He’d also been successful so far at shutting down her attempts to set him up. All it had taken was one momentary lapse when he hadn’t had his guard up.

“I invited someone to the office party tonight that I really think you should meet,” Barbara had said.

“Mmm,” said Neil, completely noncommittally, focused on his calculations. He was missing something, somewhere. It wasn’t adding up properly.

“I really think you’ll like her, she’s super great.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. You need someone to take care of you.”

“I’m married,” Neil had muttered, his mouth saying the words without permission from his brain. “Uh,” he said, catching himself and looking up. “I mean…”

Her eyes had narrowed at his left ring finger which was completely bare. She raised one eyebrow skeptically. “Really? How come you never mentioned it before?”

“Look,” said Neil, checking around to make sure no one was close enough to eavesdrop. “I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure how people here would react to… him.”

“Oh!” said Barbara, suddenly flustered. “I didn’t know you were— not that there’s anything wrong with that,” she hastily tacked on.

“If you could keep it to yourself?” he asked. “I’m not ready to be, you know, out here.”

“Of course,” she said, nodding a lot and watching him with newfound interest. “Of course I won’t tell anybody.”

Neil had not had high hopes and his lack of trust in her discretion had been proven correct less than an hour later when Evelyn, a very professional HR rep, had stiffly stood next to his desk.

“I am sorry,” she’d said, “Mr. Jacobs, that you have felt the need to hide your sexuality.”

“Oh, please don’t—” started Neil.

“This company is very accepting of a variety of different lifestyles and I want to ensure you that we will swiftly deal with any person that is making you feel uncomfortable.”

“Uh,” said Neil, stupidly.

“As such, we request that you invite your… partner to the office party tonight. He will be welcomed with open arms.”

“I don’t—”

“Oh, Neil, you have to,” said Barbara, popping up from god-knew-where. “We feel simply horrible that you’ve felt the need to keep this from us!”

Neil opened his mouth and closed it, feeling like a fish. He turned back to Evelyn. “This whole conversation is making me feel uncomfortable,” he tried.

“We look forward to meeting your partner tonight,” Evelyn replied.

“Husband,” Neil said grumpily. He hated the term ‘partner’.

“I can’t wait!” said Barbara.

Which was when Neil had given up arguing and decided to call Dan for help. There was only one thing that could solve this problem: a fake husband.

He’d teamed up with several of his co-workers before, pretending to be married. It was easier to work with a supporting partner and having a spouse that came to visit him at work was a good cover. But he didn’t need a normal husband for this. He needed Chad.

It was originally Erik who had made up the persona. He’d been working with Dan at the time and she needed him to pretend to be her boyfriend at a party at the company she was investigating. She told him to be as distracting as possible but to remain above suspicion.

Erik had taken these directions and created Chad: a golden retriever of a human being. He was a personal trainer/masseur/underwear model, who had a smile like sunshine and absolutely nothing going on below the surface. He was so pretty and dumb that everyone instantly understood that he was arm candy. He’d smiled beguilingly and let Dan’s middle aged female coworkers pinch his biceps. He’d been so distracting that Dan had successfully planted several bugs in executives’ offices while everyone was looking at her perfect boyfriend. After that, Chad had been a tool that all of them used from time to time.

Nicky, Jeremy, and Matt were all very good at being Chad (Erik was still the master), Kevin and Neil were passable, and no one asked the twins to do it after Andrew had tried once and made everyone incredibly uncomfortable with his wide grin.

There was also a female version of Chad, called Candi (with an i) that Allison always had too much fun pretending to be, although she was better at being a bored, bitter trophy wife.

Neil knew that they were swamped right now; there was a reason that he didn’t already have a backup fake significant other. He felt bad for his slip up, but having a Chad at the party tonight would be useful. He’d found quite a few irregularities in his accounting and he wanted to bug his boss’ office to get an idea of how widespread and intentional the tax fraud was. He hoped that Matt was available to come, although Kevin would be fine, too. Those were the two he worked with most often.

He spent the rest of the afternoon half-focused on his work and half-worrying about the party that evening.

It wasn’t until Barbara was standing by his desk, rocking excitedly on the balls of her feet that Neil was made aware of the time.

“Jameson,” she said, addressing him by his undercover name. He was pretending to be a trust fund douchebag and he had a name to match. “Is he on his way?” Her excitement was palpable, although Neil had no idea why.

“I’m sure he is,” answered Neil. He actually had no clue who was coming or how to contact them, but he trusted Dan not to let him down.

“What’s he like?”

“Uh,” stuttered Neil, desperately trying to come up with the most generic description ever that didn’t include any hints to Chad’s physical appearance. “Nice.”

Barbara gave him an unimpressed look, but he was saved by his office phone ringing. He pointed at it and she sighed happily.

“Mr. Jacobs?” said the gruff voice of the building’s security guard. “I have a Chad Jacobs here to see you.”

“I’ll be right down,” said Neil, heading to the elevators. Barbara was still watching him with heart eyes as the elevator doors closed between them.

He spent the trip down wordlessly thanking Dan for sending someone to save him. Once he arrived, he smiled in relief at the familiar blond head. He always felt best with Andrew at his back, even though Andrew made a poor Chad. It wasn’t until he’d taken a couple steps out of the elevator that he realized his mistake.

Aaron looked like he was on the way to the executioner’s block as opposed to an office party where he’d have to pretend to be his real-life brother-in-law’s fake husband for the evening. Although, Neil was in agreement that there wasn’t a lot of difference between the two.

“Babe,” he made himself say, reaching out a hand. “Come upstairs.”

Aaron pushed past him into the elevator without acknowledging him.

“Ground rules,” he said as soon as they were alone. “I’ve decided that Chad is uncomfortable with PDA.”

“Remember that Chad is gay and shouldn’t be caught staring at women’s breasts,” Neil said snippily in return.

“Maybe Chad is bisexual and is considering leaving you.”

“You’re here to back me up, not to make this harder,” grumbled Neil. “Could you try to pretend to like me?”

“It’s not like you like me.”

“You are not even in the top three people who I hate most in the world right now.”

“Really?” said Aaron with interest. “I thought I was usually number one. Who’s beating me?”

“Well, Dan, obviously, for sending you.” Aaron nodded in agreement. “Andrew, for not being available to come himself. And Kevin.”

“Kevin? Kevin didn’t do anything.”

“Everything is at least partially Kevin’s fault.”

“Fair,” Aaron paused. “What do they know about me?”

“That your name is Chad, that we are married, and that you’re nice.”

Aaron glared. “Fine,” he muttered, and took Neil’s hand. His palm with warm and clammy and Neil resisted the urge to snatch his hand away and wipe it on his pants.

“I’m going to murder Dan,” he muttered, as the elevator arrived at his floor. “Smile!” he added. “We’re in love.”

“Great,” sighed Aaron, pasting an unconvincing smile on his face.

As soon as they got back to headquarters, a raucous cheer greeted them. Matt popped the cork out of a bottle of champagne.

“Mazel tov to the happy couple!” he shouted.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re hilarious,” muttered Aaron. “Give me some of that so I can forget this ever happened.”

“Aw, did your husband not treat you well?” chortled Nicky.

Aaron set his jaw and didn’t answer.

“Did you get the bugs placed?” Dan asked.

“Yes,” said Neil, giving a full-body shudder.

“What?” said Dan, noting his reaction. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” replied Neil. Dan was not impressed, her expression demanding. “I almost got caught. It’s okay, it worked out.”

“How did it work out?” asked Allison, sounding completely delighted.

“Give me the alcohol,” said Aaron sharply.

“Come on, tell us!” cajoled Erik.

“I hate all of you,” said Aaron.

“It’s all in good fun,” said Renee.

“Yes,” said Neil dryly. “Hopefully one day we’ll find it just as funny as the rest of you already do.”

“Tell us! Tell us what you’re hiding!” said Katelyn.

Aaron sighed heavily. “He dragged me into a closet and got on his knees. Then I had to make fake sex noises until one of his coworkers caught us. It was the worst moment of my life. I would appreciate the oblivion of alcohol now.”

Everybody laughed heartily and looked to Andrew for his reaction.

He shook his head at Neil. “I don’t answer your call once and you elope with my brother?”

“Serves you right,” replied Neil.

Andrew stepped closer to him, lips twitching.

Neil glared at him. “Not you, too.”

“I always wanted the two of you to get along better, but this is not what I meant.”

“You’re going to regret making jokes when I leave you for him.”

“You’re not going to do that,” said Andrew seriously, although his hazel eyes were still amused.

“You know how petty I can be.”

“You won’t,” reiterated Andrew with confidence. “You only swing for me.” He pulled Neil into a kiss and he immediately melted. He didn’t know how Andrew could affect him like this, after seven years of marriage and over a decade together.

Still. He wasn’t going to let this go that easily. “Mmm,” he moaned. “Aaron.”

Andrew pinched his waist in retaliation.

Nearby, Aaron whimpered unhappily into his champagne.

[andreilweek]

Hi everyone! Accidentally deleted the original post in attempts to edit some information soooo in case you missed the previous post, here are the dates:

July 7, 2019 to July 14, 2019

Please remember to tag your posts with #AndreilWeek2019 so that everyone can see them (and also so that we can find and reblog all of them!). If you know we’ve missed your post, send us a message or an ask so we can reblog it!

We will be creating another AO3 Collection to post to, so stay tuned for that!

Without further ado, the prompts:

Day 1: alternate meeting | fantasy au | magic au

Day 2: fluorescent lights | deafening sound | secrets

Day 3: phobia | language | tattoo/piercing

Day 4: japan | acquarium | concert

Day 5: cartoon | cats | paper crane

Day 6: poetry | dance | holiday

Day 7: “i could kill you right now” | “i don’t need your help” | “are you afraid?”

Day 8: free choice/prompt from #AndreilWeek2018

The above prompts are simply guidelines! You can choose one or two or three and work them into your piece however you want. Feel free to participate in as many or as few of the days as you want! We tried to make the prompts pretty vague so that you can interpret them in a kind of ways! We can’t wait to see all that you do with them!

For the free choice day, you can use a prompt from an earlier day that you hadn’t used, use a prompt from the #AndreilWeek2018 prompt list make something completely different, or really do anything you want; it’s up to you!

If you happen to post anything andreil-related during this week, you can still tag it with #AndreilWeek2019 even if it doesn’t follow the prompts or is otherwise unrelated! However, please don’t post fics for this event that aren’t centered around andreil; you can of course include other characters and scenes, but if your fic mainly isn’t about andreil, then it probably shouldn’t go in the tag.

Rules:

No reposts/theft. Stealing is completely forbidden and will be reported.

Avoid ship hate/fic hate/bringing down other people’s work. This is meant to be a fun week!

Tag your fics accordingly (triggers, nsfw, etc.), and try to put any major things like that above your fic so that people know what they’re about to read. We want everyone to have comfortable and good experiences this week, so this would really help!

If you have any questions about anything (prompts, rules, etc) or concerns or need to clarify anything, please don’t hesitate to let us know!

- Sheila (lady-gryffindor), Angel (arxhaangel), and Nea (minyard-03)

[minyardcva]

Andrew x Neil 32?

they say that what you do on christmas day, you’ll be doing it the entire year, so i wrote about andreil on this fine christmas day. i know this was supposed to be a drabble, but i honestly don’t know how it got so long.

i think i’m in love with you and i’m terrified

The first couple of days, it was okay. It felt like Andrew’s bad days when his skin felt like crawling with the memory of his past and emotions would threaten to choke him, and Neil had to stay away.

Being separated for a couple of days but anticipating Andrew’s return knowing he’d be back soon was one thing. But Andrew being in a different city, miles and hours away from Neil, never knowing when his schedule would allow him a small visit was another and it put Neil on edge.

Many a time would he enter the bedroom with his phone in hand, wanting to show Andrew some new dumb things he found on the internet, or yell for Andrew at practice to send him the ball. At nights when he was struggling for breath, phantom hands of his father in a chokehold around his throat, and sought after the safety that is Andrew’s hand steadily gripping the back of his neck, the cold and empty side of the bed where Andrew used to sleep once again punched the air from his lungs, and he would often leave the bed and try to outrun his thoughts.

After spending years with only his mother at his back he was familiar and used to the loneliness, but the years with the Foxes lulled him into the comfort of friendship and intimacy.

The freshmen were rowdy and undisciplined and Jack and Sheena were being pains in the ass more than usual. Robin tried to help but not having the original Foxes around him, the people who helped make him a real person, started to take its toll on Neil. His already fraying patience got thinner and thinner, and scathing remarks often turned to venom spitting from his tongue.

The practices seemed to go on forever and Neil was practically buzzing with the need to leave, eager to get away and on the roof. Only could the sound of Andrew’s voice on the other side of the line stop the shaking of his hands and the rush of blood in his ears, and Neil would finally get his body to relax. They weren’t the ones for small talk, but the distance didn’t offer much but deep longing which spilled in his heart like ink, spreading through his veins and making his nerve ends tingle and twitch for a touch. He longed for Andrew’s presence, for the steady grip on the back of his neck, for the smoke tanged kisses and Andrew’s hands slowly taking him apart, but the description of Andrew’s days was the closest visualization he had.

-

Neil’s day was ruined, and it wasn’t even 2 P.M. The practice was terrible and they had only a few weeks until the championship, and he had to impress the scouting agents as to not bring Ichirou’s wrath on himself, he had a pop quiz he didn’t study for and it had started to rain on his way back from the classes. He trudged to the Fox Tower, right foot, left foot, and right again, running on autopilot and counting the days until the championship in his head. His first championship without Andrew to close down the goal, no need for a trade anymore because he would get all the kisses he wanted anyways.

When he got to his room, he threw his messenger bag in the general direction of the couch and made his way to the sink to get a glass of water. On the counter was a six pack of beers. One can was missing, and another stood open. Neil thought that his roommates were in classes and that they had drunk everything they had on their last party, but it was possible that they rushed in for a moment and left it there. Well, their bad. Neil had a shitty day and it was his beer now.

He took the open can and made his way to the bedroom. He was so lost in his thoughts; of possible academic probation because of his lousy grades, of Ichirou’s threats, of snapping Jack’s neck in half, so he only noticed it halfway to his bed. Or him. Andrew. On Neil’s bed. Neil started and quickly put aside the can so he wouldn’t spill it. It took him three times to find his voice, and even then it was much more breathless than Neil would’ve liked it.

“Andrew? What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like i’m doing?” Andrew replied, taking a sip from his can.

“But- What about your schedule? Don’t you have to practice? The championship is-”

“Look at me and ask me again if I care about the championship.”

Neil breathed out a laugh and stood in front of Andrew, who sat so that there was exactly enough space for Neil to settle down. So he did.

“Yes or no?”

“You’re dripping wet.”

Neil quickly took off his sweatshirt and dropped it on the floor. He didn’t miss the quick onceover Andrew gave him.

“Yes.”

Andrew leaned forward, expecting a kiss, but showed no surprise when Neil took his hand in his own, intertwining their fingers, and gently pressed their foreheads together.

Andrew noticed the furrow between Neil’s brows and squeezed his hand.

“Talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Your head, Josten. Something’s messing with it.”

Neil just buried his head in Andrew’s neck and muttered something unintelligible. Andrew squeezed his fingers again, prompting him to elaborate.

Neil took a big sigh before answering. “I said that you’re messing with it.”

“Last time I checked I hit you in the stomach, not your head”, Andrew said, even though he brushed his nose softly against Neil’s cheek.

Suddenly, Neil brought his head up and the look he gave Andrew was troubled and intense. His palms were clammy and he felt blood rushing in his ears, but he managed to keep his voice steady.

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified. I’m terrified because all my life it’s been hit and run. All my life I’ve had to push people away. I wasn’t allowed to have feelings like this for other people. And this”, he paused for emphasis, “is the first real something I’ve ever had. I’m terrified I’ll run away and ruin it, I’m terrified that Ichirou might do something to you because of me. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

Neil expected silence, expected Andrew to retreat his hand from Neil’s, and was ready to give him space, but Andrew didn’t even hesitate.

“If you were going to run away you would have done it years ago. You are not the rabbit you used to be. You buried Nathaniel back in Baltimore, remember? And Ichirou cannot do anything to hurt me. He knows you would present a bigger problem if he killed me off, and he needs you for the money. And what if he tries? What can he do? Send his henchmen? I still have my knives. Let him try.”

He put his hand on the back of Neil’s neck and brought their foreheads together again.

“You’re my personal problem, remember. I wouldn’t wish you on anyone else but a mortician.”

Neil let out a laugh at that and the ink retreated back, back, back where it would sit and wait, locked deep inside Neil’s heart. It wouldn’t really go away, couldn’t as long as Ichirou’s shadow loomed over him, but he pressed his lips against Andrew’s for the first time in months. That was mattered. They mattered. That Andrew was here, pressing bruising kisses to Neil’s lips and grounding him back to the present.

Death, like Ichirou’s threats, was the truth, but so was sunrise, a constant, like new beginnings and new moments with Andrew, and they would get through them together.

[nekojitachan]

59. this year my family has decided we’re celebrating the holidays on a cruise and you’re the cute bartender who teases me for mourning the lack of snow, andreil?

*******

HATFORDS (so AU)

*******

Abram gave Jamie an incredulous look when she showed up at his flat with the news that Aunt Miriam had booked a Portugal river cruise for the family over the holidays. “Why?” he asked for what had to be the fourth time. “Doesn’t she understand that there’s work and-”

“It’s because of work that she did it,” Jamie said as she stepped out of his closet with one of his suitcases. “This way you and Uncle Stuart aren’t too busy with stuff to attend the family dinner or even take a break, nor Henry off in Edinburgh like last year.”

“So she traps us together on a boat,” Abram said as he wandered off to fetch a bottle of wine - no, wait, gin would be better. Jamie trailed after him, a bemused grin on her face when she saw him fetch the bottle. “Traps us on a boat with Ally.”

That wiped away Jamie’s smile and made her fetch another glass, which she motioned for him to pour gin into, along with a splash of lime juice. “All right, perhaps it’s not one of Mum’s best ideas but it won’t be too bad.” She sighed when Abram scoffed at that statement. “I’ll help you throw the git overboard if he causes trouble?”

He had a few swallows of the rather strong gin gimlet while he considered the offer. “Can we weigh him down first?”

“Hmm… sadly, no. Mum at least would probably object, possibly Dad, too.”

Dammit, he supposed his aunt and uncle were somewhat attached the pain in the ass, and would have to settle for the thought of Ally swallowing copious amounts of river water and looking like a drowned rat.

Abram spent the days leading up to the cruise working frantically on everything in his inbox, on clearing out as much he could before Aunt Miriam’s ‘no work unless absolutely vital to the organization’ moratorium came into effect. He didn’t know what he was going to do during the ten day cruise when he was used to just spending a day or two on the holidays at best.

He was eternally grateful for his aunt and uncles in taking him in, in providing him sanctuary when his mother had worked up the courage to send him away after his father had broken his left arm and left him covered with cuts for ‘interrupting’ an important meeting - he’d been little more than six years old at the time, and already bore several scars from his father’s ‘lessons’, including one from an iron on his shoulders. His mother had finally reached her breaking point, at least in regards to the abuse directed his way, and he’d been on a plane the next day, confused and doing his best to hide his fear while he traveled with a stranger (an old Hatford associate) to London.

His mother hadn’t lasted long after that act of defiance, which the Hatfords had made sure Nathan Wesninski had paid for, and Abram had never forgotten the debt he owed his mother for ensuring he escaped that house of fear and pain, nor her family for taking him in. He loved Stuart for giving him a real home at last, as well as Uncle Will, Aunt Miriam and his cousins… he just wish they’d leave him alone to do his job.

“Don’t look so glum,” Bren said as the enforcer drove him to the airport, where he’d catch a flight to Lisbon for the first part of the cruise. “You’ll see some pretty things, enjoy some good food and drinks, and bring back a bunch of stupid shite for us, right? Just try not to kill anyone during your holiday and surprise us all.”

Abram glared at his bodyguard/friend through the rear-view mirror. “Very funny. Just for that, no souvenirs for you.”

“Okay, go ahead and kill someone,” Bren sulked. “Don’t want you to be all grumpy when you don’t get to be stabby.” He laughed when Abram made a rude gesture. “Least I don’t have to be the one to clean it up this time!”

Abram wished Bren a happy holiday with his girlfriend (part of the reason the man was staying behind in London while Davis, Cal and Liz were tagging along to help watch over the family), then checked in and joined the rest of the family in the VIP lounge; it was odd to be flying for personal reasons and not business for once.

He had a glass of wine while waiting for the flight and chatted with Stuart, Henry and Liz while Jamie seemed to be stuck with keeping Ally under control. They kept their discussion general, about the changes to the itinerary they planned over the next week and a half (Abram loved his aunt, but there was only so much ‘tourist’ stuff he could do) until it was time to board the plane.

Ally kept leaning over his seat to ask Abram for pick-up lines in Portuguese, until Aunt Miriam used that particular tone of voice of hers to make him sit back down and behave, at which point in time Abram pulled out his tablet and watched a movie in Russian (passable, but a good excuse to keep his headphones in and ignore everyone else).

It was a short drive to the hotel where they were staying for the first day; Abram had been to Lisbon twice before so he only left his room when Jamie dragged him out for some drinks and snacks, rarely able to refuse her anything. He had to admit that it was an enjoyable few hours, watching the way that his cousin drew men’s attention, the confident yet not cruel way she turned them down, content to spend the time with him.

“Some of them are interested in you,” she pointed out. “Still no interest?”

“Still no interest.” He knew his cousins hoped that he’d find someone to date one day, that his uncles and aunt worried about him, but after what had happened to his mother and the Walker syndicate’s attempt to ‘sweeten’ him up that time… no, he was fine. He’d never had more than a passing interest in anyone, male or female, and was best on his own.

“You need to live more, Ram,” Jamie told him. “Do more than translate and look after the family.” When he gave her a blank stare for that statement, she sighed and shook her head. “Okay, I won’t bring it up for the rest of the year.”

“Lucky me,” he said, the words loaded with sarcasm since that wasn’t much of a reprieve and she knew it.

The next day was spent touring the city during the first half, then they finally got on the boat so they could set sail on the river to Porto. At least Aunt Miriam had booked them the largest rooms that the boat had, so Abram had a small bedroom and a sitting area, as well as a balcony and private bath.

He spent part of the first afternoon exploring the ship, making sure he knew as much of it as possible (old habits from work, from needing to know the exits to everywhere and places to hide in case the job went pear-shaped), then met up with everyone for dinner. As Bren had said, the food was good and there were several bottles of wine to go along with it, although he only had two glasses; he enjoyed watching his family relax, in hearing Uncle Will and Stuart retell stories from their childhood, to watch Jamie and Henry and even Ally laugh.

Cal and Liz made sure that everyone got back to their rooms safely, though Stuart asked Abram to join him at one of the bars, where he ordered a gin gimlet and a whisky for them. “I wish your mother was here for this,” he said after the bartender, a young man with blond hair who appeared even shorter than Abram’s 5′3″ height, served them their drinks. “She’s the only thing missing.” He raised his glass in a toast. “To Mary.”

“To Mary,” Abram echoed as he clinked their glasses together, his throat tight as he thought about his mother. “Though she’d complain about wasting all this money when we could have just stayed at home.”

Stuart snorted at that, to the point that he almost spilled his drink. “Damn right she would, unless it was her idea in the first place.” He shook his head and stared at Abram with something resembling nostalgia. “You’re so much like her, you know?” That surprised Abram because from what he could tell, he took after his detested father with his pale blue eyes and auburn hair, even down to most of his facial features - what he had inherited from his mother was the Hatfords’ lack of height and slim build. “There’s days when I think she sent you to me so I’d be plagued by her all over again.” Now his expression was pure fondness.

“I try my best,” Abram admitted, the words rough as he thought about how he did do his best not to let his uncle down.

“I know, kiddo.” Stuart reached out to ruffle his hair; Abram caught the bartender gazing at them and had to wonder what the man thought of their conversation.

Fortunately it took a more mundane turn after that, with them joking about what to get Bren and the others for souvenirs, and after one more drink they retired to their respective rooms. Abram found himself returning to the bar often, either to get out of his room or to join one or more of his cousins, or for an after-dinner drink with Stuart. Most of the time, the handsome bartender with the intent hazel eyes was there, to the point that he’d have a gin gimlet ready for Abram soon after he arrived.

It was when they’d reached Régua that Abram sat down at the bar alone, his mood sour as he thought about ‘celebrating’ Christmas Eve with his family in another couple of hours. “Aren’t you supposed to be wandering around some palace,” the bartender - Andrew - asked as he set down the gin gimlet.

“I’m not really in the mood for that,” Abram confessed as he stirred the drink with the plastic stick. “For pretending to ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’, or dealing with Ally asking me yet again for pick-up lines I don’t even know, or smiling for my aunt when I’m bored out of my bloody mind.” He let out a weary sigh before he picked up the drink and drained most of it in one go. “And I’m bloody sick of all this sun,” he added on to the growing list before he set the glass down on the immaculate bar. “I want to be back in London, or at least Aunt Miriam could have picked a place with snow. I miss snow - what’s the point of a holiday trip when there’s no snow? Why can’t we be at some chalet or something?” Then he thought about it for a moment. “Except I don’t like skiing, I suppose. Might be worth it, though, to shove Ally off a mountain.” Oops, he probably shouldn’t have said that in front of Andrew.

Except there was the slightest of quirks to the left corner of Andrew’s mouth as he wiped at the already clean bar. “Of course you’d whine about such a thing. I don’t like snow, though I agree with you on shoving your one cousin off a cliff.”

“Hmm.” Abram finished his drink then indicated he wanted another one. “You’re American, what are you doing working a cruise like this?” That had been bothering him the last few days, and if Andrew was willing to talk…. “Sorry, if that’s a personal question.”

Andrew shrugged then surprised Abram by pouring another drink - a whisky, neat - which appeared to be for him. “My cousin lives in Germany and after I graduated university, I decided to stay with him for a while. Was looking for a job and since I knew bartending and German, this was a good fit.” He paused to toss back the drink, his attention never wavering from Abram. “I don’t usually work this cruise, I stick with German ones, but I was asked to fill in.”

“I’m glad you did,” Abram said, and for some reason he felt his cheeks heat up. “Uhm, I mean… you do a very good job?” Why did that come out as a squeak?

Andrew continued to regard him for several seconds then motioned to the ignored gin gimlet in front of Abram, which he’d been neglecting. “What do you mean by not knowing any pick-up lines? I’ve heard you speak Portuguese and it sounds rather fluent to me.”

Abram had to wait until he finished swallowing to answer. “Ah, it’s just… I don’t pick people up? People don’t hit on me?” Did that make sense?

“I find that difficult to believe,” Andrew said as he looked Abram up and down; usually Abram found the gesture insulting, but right then… right then he felt his cheeks heat up again.

“I just, haven’t been interested in people before,” he tried to explain. “No one stands out to me.”

“No one?” Andrew continued to gaze at him until Abram had to duck his head and finish his drink.

“Ah… no, not usually.”

It was quiet for about a minute or two, during which Andrew cleaned their glasses and Abram attempted to figure out what was going on. “You live in London?” Andrew finally asked.

“Yes.” Abram smiled, the expression a bit lopsided. “Though I do travel a lot for work.” He hoped that Andrew didn’t ask him about his ‘job’.

All the other man did was nod. “Yes, so do I.”

It was quiet again after that, with Andrew off to pour drinks for some other guests and Abram answering texts from Jamie and Stuart on his phone. He was about to leave when another gin gimlet was set down in front of him. “I have a day off soon,” Andrew told him. “When we dock at Salamanca. Could use an interpreter.” He didn’t say anything else, just stared at Abram as if daring him to do something.

Abram found himself smiling as he picked up the drink. “I’ve been told I’m a very good interpreter, as it happens to stand.”

Andrew nodded once then left to deal with more guests, which left Abram to finish his drink (it probably should be his last one if he didn’t want to embarrass himself at dinner). Even as he left the bar, the smile lingered on his lips, his foul mood from earlier utterly vanquished.

Perhaps Aunt Miriam’s idea had been a good one after all.

He still hoped to be able to throw Ally overboard before they returned to Porto, though.

*******

I couldn’t see Andrew teasing Abram THAT much, sorry. Not when they don’t know each other too well yet.

So this is an Armies AU? Something like that. My head hurts.