#by next year neil will be dead

[altruistic-meme]

reread the line "you should have been court." and am once again hating how people portray Kevin.

#i love him sm #he actually genuinely cares so much about neil #people say he tells him to rein and yes that too but this #this line #he was trying so hard to give neil a future and neil is telling him now it wont happen #by next year neil will be dead #and kevin is grieving him already #aftg #kevin day #shh ac

[cameronsactivities]

Anderperry Week 2023, Day 7

(wild card day!!)

Carpe Diem

The bell above the door dinged as Neil walked into the bookstore. It was one of the last places in the city where he could retain his anonymity after he’d gained some fame as an actor. He loved how it was always quiet, without being silently sterile. The small coffee shop in the corner kept the store smelling like freshly-ground coffee beans and steeping tea. Neil bought a drink, letting the steam fog up his glasses while he perused the books. 

He swore he saw a familiar name out of the corner of his eye. In disbelief, he picked up the book. He wasn’t mistaken. In a neat, serif font, the name “Todd Anderson” was printed right there. Neil opened the book, a poetry anthology. He read the dedication five or six times, confirming that it was undoubtedly the Todd Anderson he was thinking of. “To the Dead Poets Society,” it read. 

Memories of nights crowded in a tiny cave, desk sets tossed off bridges, and promises made in youthful spirit came back to Neil. Memories of kisses in the darkness, hands interlaced beneath covers, and whispers exchanged in chilly air. 

But Neil and Todd were driven apart by career, as Neil moved to Hollywood and Todd stayed in New England. Their excuses held more weight than they thought they did, and suddenly, Neil had realized that he hadn’t called Todd in more than a month. 

Neil never found love again since then, almost five years ago. He gingerly placed the book back onto the display stand and quickly walked out of the bookstore, leaving his tea behind and wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. 

Neil’s own face stared down at him disapprovingly from a movie poster. The balance of success and sacrifice had been wobbling out of control behind Neil’s back for so long, and it was just starting to catch up to him. 

***

“Excuse me, are you Neil Perry?”

Neil sighed, and as humble as he was, he was not in the mood to greet a fan. But as he looked up, he saw a set of blue eyes that he was well-acquainted with, and blond hair that would only appear golden when the sunlight filtered through it. 

“Todd?” Neil took off his baseball cap.

“Hi.”

Five years worth of silence stretched between them, and their awkward departure five years ago went unmentioned. 

“It’s such a coincidence, seeing you here,” Neil said. 

“I switched publishers two years ago, and now I live in LA.”

“Oh.” The silence seemed to push them further away from each other. 

“I should get going,” Todd said. 

“Please,” Neil said, then cleared his throat to make it sound less like a beg. “Please, have a cup of coffee with me. It’s on me.”

From that moment onwards, autumn passed by like a blur. They started quite clunkily, like an old car engine refusing to start, but after a few conversations, they were cruising down the freeway with the wind in their hair like vintage movie stars. The embers of a quieted love were fanned back to life, and the fire was roaring bigger than ever. 

One evening, they booked a reservation at a fancy dinner restaurant, but upon seeing that the prices were absurd, even for Los Angeles, Neil and Todd ordered drinks and left a big tip. They chose to eat grocery store canned soup instead. 

They spent their weekends in museums or movie theaters, and their nights dancing to old songs on Neil’s record player. Sometime in September, Todd moved into Neil’s apartment, and they became roommates again, except they didn’t bother with having two beds this time. Neil’s coworkers wondered why he had started bringing delicious, homemade meals instead of the same sandwich every day.

But as the temperatures dropped and the last qualities of summertime ebbed away, the days of blissful kisses and pretending to hate pumpkin spice lattes came to an end. Neil and Todd laid in bed, huddled together for warmth, as they kept putting off switching their quilt for a warmer duvet. 

“Todd,” Neil said, biting back tears. “There’s something really important I need to tell you, and I’m so sorry for not telling you earlier; that was really selfish of me.”

“What is it?” Todd answered gently.

“Before I say it, I need you to know that I won’t be mad or sad if you leave me because of it.”

Todd stayed silent, as if he were afraid to make a promise.

Neil exhaled shakily, wiping away a tear that had formed. “I have this thing, I found out about it a year ago. It’s a– It’s a heart disease. An arrhythmia.” 

“Neil–”

“No, Todd,” Neil sniffed. “One of the symptoms is sudden death.” 

“No.”

“What do you mean? I can’t just say ‘no’ to a disease.”

“No,” Todd repeated, and they both smiled weakly at the memory that surfaced. “We’ve had five years robbed from us. We can’t afford to lose any more.”

“But what about you? Is it worth it for you to be with someone who’s going to die? I can’t do that to you, I–”

“Neil,” Todd said. “Neil. Neil.” He broke out into a light chuckle. “Neil, carpe diem.”

He smiled back bittersweetly. “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.”

#anderperry week 2023 #anderperry #todd anderson #neil perry #dead poets society #dps #my first fandom week!! #i did not edit any of this i promise i'll put in more effort next year i just happened to get thefted this time #so i read somewhere that keating was originally supposed to have an illness? #also i just watched la la land so that explains the beginning #could this be better? yes. am i impatient to post? also yes. #also im experimenting with different styles to try not to use dialogue as a crutch #peace out #cameron has activities

[be-queer-do-arson]

I love that scene in tkm where Wymack tells Neil he's going to make him vice captain the next year and Neil tries to politely decline (on the grounds that he'll be dead by then) and Wymack is literally like too bad bitch. This isn't a democracy and i say you're the next captain so figure it out

#neil didnt tell wymack why he's reluctant to accept of course #but his internal monologue was somehow simultaneously depressing and funny as fuck #neil: you should pick up an extra striker for next year #wymack: why 🤨 #neil: *sweating* no reason #aftg #neil josten #all for the game #the kings men #coach wymack #wymack

[double-aa-batteries]

things about about TSC I can't stop thinking about

"hindsight was a backstabbing bitch"

curtains symbolizing jeans healing journey, how he keeps them closed at Abby's in a effort to recreate the nest in search of some normalcy, how he opens them and looks out the window his new apartment, seeking calm in his overwhelm

"I want to go home" (13) meaning evermore vs. "I want to go home" (329) meaning to his apartment with Laila, Cat and jeremy

the fact that jean's phone is probably still in Abby's freezer

Kevin "their kindness matters" Day

Neil's smile is as unsettling to everyone else as it is to him and he has so much more Nathaniel in him than he recognizes in his own pov

Jean is so similar to neil in that they're both petty, dramatic bitches who care deeply about their teammates' safety

riko and the ravens quite literally took jean's name from him (Jean-Yves, Jonny, Paris)

"[Renee's] love was so tender it looked like grief as it curled her mouth and made her eyes shine"

jean gets forehead kisses from Renee and Cat

"that creepy little goalkeeper Andrew Minyard"

jean's many nicknames for neil: tiny bastard, tedious malcontent, abominable cockroach, wretched little runaway, ignorant child, etc.

Neil took the bandage off of jeans 3 and promptly stuck it over Kevin's chess peice

"I should have let him kill you," Jean said. "Probably," Neil agreed, "but you didn't, so here we all are."

"...aside from his outstanding murder charge, there was nothing interesting about that fox"

the fact that the point of tfc was to show characters who couldn't/wouldn't/ or were unable to heal from the trauma they had faced and yet from the very beginning and without question, TSC is about jean clawing his way forward and toward healing no matter what

the cheese drawer

dadmack dialed up to 1,000 See: "i will burn this house down before I let them touch you"

bisexual jean Moreau panicking over his teammates in swimsuits and Jeremy's long legs

"He's earned the right to be arrogant"

riko couldn't bring himself to hurt wymack because he was Kevin's father and Kevin was like a brother to riko and riko has always yearned for a father's recognition

Alvarez has a motorcycle and jean didn't say no to learning how to ride it

we know next to nothing about Jeremy Knox despite having chapters in his pov (why was he in therapy? why was his dad in France? what the hell did he do at the Fall banquet his freshman year to tear his family in half?)

that being said: Jeremy Knox is a rich boy with a butler

everything about Catalina Alverez

the fact that Jeremy knox has two brothers and one of them is probably dead

"rather than force the Trojans underground for that part, they simply built steps up and over it inside the stadium" the JUXTAPOSITION

Alvarez cooks and so now does jean

we know for a fact riko subjected Kevin to "subtler cruelties" while he was in the nest

"they never should have said yes when you asked" and "I didn't ask"

"as if you can tell a girl apart from a cow on a good day"

"permission to break his face, coach?" jean asked. "denied," white said.

all of thanksgiving pt. II

"alarm looked wrong on a face born for smiling"

jean casually saying "your apologies are as useful as perfume on a frog" to Lucas

Neil's whole relationship with Jean

David "I believe we all have the choice to be better than the hands that shaped us" Wymack

Neil generally being a menace to society but especially "Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to it's front bumper and said, 'thats illegal, just so you know.'"

"the cracking heat in his chest could have been his ribs snapping or his heart breaking"

#tsc #tsc spoilers #the sunshine court #aftg #all for the game #jean moreau #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #jeremy knox #cat alvarez #laila dermott

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil,

First off, Good Omens is so wonderful— thank you (and Terry Pratchett and David Tennant and Michael Sheen!) for bringing Crowley and Aziraphale into existence. They bring so much joy to me and to so many people!

Secondly, I have a writing question! I am not a writer, primarily; I’m a scientist. But, I’m a scientist writing a journal article, specifically a journal article that has been hanging over my head for many years now. I’ve reached a point where I feel completely burnt out, almost pathologically unable to make progress on the manuscript. The data and results are strong and important, and I recognize that it’s a “story” that needs to be told, and that I’m the only one who can tell it (not to mention that I have several collaborators counting on me to get this done!).

So, my question is, have you ever had a story that you felt, for one reason or another, that you really should tell or needed to tell, but that was a horrific struggle to actualize on the page? Do you have any advice for how to make myself write when I’m completely demoralized and weary with what I’m writing, but unfortunately am nearly contractually unable to simply throw it in the trash and start on something else?

Thank you so much for any advice you can give (or even just a word of encouragement!!), and for your continued engagement with the writing and fandom communities! 

Sometimes you can do it by getting out of your own way. Sometimes you can do it by remembering or finding out once again what do you like about the project on the story to begin with.

I have frequently found when faced with a story that had died or that I had lost interest in or that I thought was awful, that if I read it aloud to another person they get interested and I start getting interested and often finish wanting to carry on to find out what happens next and to move forward. Dead projects have come back to life like this.

But it's also worth remembering that there are bad days and there are good days and there are projects that even if the days are awful and the whole thing feels terrible, the only way you will get to the good days is by pushing forward. The good days are there and waiting for you -- you just have to keep going to reach them.

[darthannie]

day twenty-six: thigh riding with neil lewis

pairing: Neil Lewis x f!reader word count: 821 warnings: kissing, thigh riding, Neil is fully clothed (reader not so much), getting caught(ish) a/n: It is indeed the new year, but I don't wanna dnf so these will still be coming out! I think they're fun! kinktober masterlist

“I guess I’ll see ya next time,” you muttered as you got up to gather your things. Everyone had already gone from movie night and it was just you and Neil. 

He reached out to stop you “Wait, why don’t you stay? I could toss on 2001 or Night of the Living Dead or something?”

You considered it. “Throw on Psycho. Seen it a thousand times, but never with you, ya know?”

“Right! Yeah, sure,” he got up and milled around for a second, before walking towards a shelf labeled “HITCHCOCK”. His finger ran across the tapes, “Let’s see… got it!” He ran back and put the movie in the player. 

You sat back down on the couch and he sat next to you. The energy was similar to being alone with a high school crush for the first time. You readjusted to lay down on his lap.

“What are you doing?”, he asked as a grin formed. 

“Getting comfortable.” You adjusted your head in his lap and he shifted his body. You laid your hand over his thigh, squeezing slightly. He laid his arm over your body. You’d never touched each other this much. The most contact you’d given each other was eye contact. 

You stayed like this for a while, adjusting slightly here and there. About halfway into the film, you felt his hand moving towards the hem of your shirt. He tested the waters, slowly lifting your shirt and laying his palm flat against your skin. 

“Neil…” you said as you turned on your back.

“Yes?”, he responded, hoping you weren’t about to tell him to stop. 

“Why are you touching me like that?” You sat up and faced him.

He immediately removed his hand and became rather sheepish. He stuttered a bit as he said. “I just thought- I thought maybe- Maybe- You know- You maybe felt some kind of way about me.”

You stared at him for a moment before your lips crashed into his. 

He cocked his head over and pulled you in closer. His hand went back to your waist but this time it moved down to the button of your jeans. Feeling bold, you pulled away and got up to remove your pants yourself. 

“Those too,” he said gesturing to your underwear. He watched you closely. You smirked and chuckled lightly. You took them off and dropped them to the floor. 

“Now come here.”

You shifted towards him. He reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling you down right on his thigh. Your bare skin on his clothed thigh felt weird, but not uncomfortable. His hands landed on your hips as you settled on him. 

“Move.” His eyes were stuck on yours, waiting for you to follow his plea. You bucked your hips slightly. Your knee was in between his legs, brushing softly against him through his pants. He let out a sigh as you continued to buck your hips. You leaned forward and put your head in the crook of his neck, kissing him and moaning softly as you continued rutting up against him.

You felt so needy. His hands reached around and he grabbed your ass, pulling you towards him. He kept his hands there as you cupped his face to kiss him. He pulled away and kissed your neck, nipping at your skin lightly. Your moans got a little louder but they stopped when you heard familiar voices outside.

Your eyes widened. You hopped off him and quickly pulled your pants back on. Neil tried his best to hide his erection and the wet spot that had formed on his thigh. The rustling of keys stopped, and the voices got louder as the door opened. The full-blown conversation turned into murmurs as Jonathan and Lucien saw the two of you on separate sides of the couch. You sat up pin straight and Neil cleared his throat.

“Forget something?”, Neil asked. The two men by the door looked between you and Neil. 

Jonathan smirked, “Yeah I just left my cell behind the counter. Lucian, did you forget anything?”

Lucian felt the awkward energy in the room and he did not like it. “No, I didn’t,” he stepped towards the door saying, “See you tomorrow!” before running out. Jonathan trailed behind him, putting the key in the door, turning it, and checking the knob to make sure it didn’t budge. 

“See you tomorrow, guys,” said Jonathan. He pulled the door back and turned to look at the both of you. “Two things,” he pointed at you, “Your underwear is on the floor. AND if you guys are FINALLY gonna get together, anywhere but the couch. Please.”

“Sure thing!”, you shouted as he left. You didn’t even face him as you said it. Your eyes were stuck on the screen.

When he left, you looked over at Neil who had a smirk on his face. Everything was about to happen on that couch. 

Taglist:

@devotedlyshadowytheorist, @dxnger-dxys, @tommyshelbywhore, @quinnlilias,@madnessandobsession, @mvpr-moon, @nela-cutie, @faebirdie, @charmed-asylum, @anasanthology, @ilikefictionalmen, @akanne-aka, @no-fooking-fighting,@queenofstresss, @flwrs4aust, @mrkdvidal1989, @00hsv, @laylasbunbunny

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fic #kinktober ‘23 #cillian x reader #neil lewis x f!reader #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis x you

[thesunshinecourts]

five curiosities for the next book, after reading the sunshine court

a non-exhaustive list, but five things i'm curious to (hopefully) find out more about in TSC2, or that i have questions about still:

what happened at the trojans' fall banquet (presumably jeremy's first year)? it's a Scandal, and jeremy cannot stand to be around bryson, and annalise has never forgiven him for sticking with exy after that, despite having attended all his games in high school. given the allusions to his stepfather, and also his step-grandfather being a congressman, i can see how jeremy's sexuality might be relevant to the situation—especially if we read into lucas' stiff apology and shame at his implication about jeremy and jean as being born from more than just common decency, but rather knowledge of this being a previous sticking point in terms of jeremy's scandals—but i also keep thinking about what cat said. jeremy has—three. two brothers, one sister. the way she says it, how it sticks out to jean as an odd switch, and the fact that we've only met two siblings – it makes me wonder what happened to the third. or if that's even the right question to ask, regarding jeremy's siblings.

elodie. i'm curious if we learn anything about what happened—by and large, i kinda hope not, if only because then jean has to too, unless it turns out stuart is lying, but that's a very different kind of fallout. (i don't actively theorise he is—at some point, these kids will run out of tolerance for ghost stories coming back to life—but i think its possibility ought to be considered, at least). i think we'll get more flashes of her from jean's thoughts, though, and i anticipate lots of heartbreak lmao

lucas. assuming stuart's contact comes through, and neil's hit goes ahead, we've got lucas in the aftermath of finding out his brother is a monster, and jean saying not to call the police, and then possibly his brother being dead. if it happens any other day—if it happens in west virginia, especially—i suspect lucas might be able to look at it like another domino in the ravens machine falling down, or even that something horrible happened to him when he returned home, but if it's still in LA, after what he did to jean, after jean said no cops-------i can see how that might twist into something more suspicious. who knows! i'm curious to see what happens there. grayson is a monster, but he is still lucas' brother. aaron and kevin still have complicated grief about tilda and riko, and they were their direct, constant abusers; cass never learned until after the fact, and lucas is in a complex space between the two parts of that spectrum. if grayson dies, i think the fallout will be unavoidable for exploration

this is a small one but man, i just want to keep seeing jean's list grow. it tears something out of me every time, and stitches me back together, and i want to go through that over and over, because i want to see a jean who not only hears that his life is his and worth living, but a jean who learns to believe it too

i'm just kinda assuming we see the foxes again, because i remember nora's character list having new details about characters who didn't show up in this one, but i'm also quietly hoping for more thea. their scene made me ache, and he'd never had good defenses against thea, and kevin knew that. jean would kill him for bringing her here made my heart do the !! double-tap. i'm extremely invested in jean, thea and kevin as a unit, and it would be so incredibly wonderful to see more

#the sunshine court #tsc #tsc spoilers #TSC2 #jeremy knox #jean moreau #elodie moreau #thea muldani #lucas johnson

[adamsrcnan]

Thinking about Wymack picking up Neil from the airport at new years. It takes him a while to spot Neil because of course his hair is back to it's natural colour but Wymack would notice those hunched over shoulders anywhere, shoulders that look like they're carrying a weight so heavy Wymack would never know the pressure of it. And that's how he knows it's his Neil. His hands always fisted around the strap of that goddamn duffle bag.

Then Neil is sitting in Wymack's car, and he can sense the tension in Neil's body, the careful way he holds himself hiding how much pain he's in, how broken he is in that moment. Neil falls asleep within minutes, so Wymack spends the rest of the journey driving as careful as he possibly can so as not to jostle Neil in the car as he sleeps. He turns the heating up too keeping Neil warm and comfortable. He tries not to think about all the questions that make his grip tighten on the steering wheel.

Next is the mission of getting Neil up to his apartment. He doesn't want to wake him, though it doesn't seem like it would be possible right now anyway. Neil seems completely gone. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of his chest he could be dead. So Wymack grabs Neil's bag, throws it over himself before gently reaching into the car to carry Neil out. He's heavier than Wymack would have expected, considering how small he seemed when he first spotted him hunched over on the curb outside the airport.

The ride up on the elevator seems longer than usual, and at some point Wymack feels the weight of Neil's head falling back so he gently shifts him so his head lands on Wymack's shoulder instead. He sighs deeply and curses under his breath, at what he doesn't know. For a second he's back in the hallway of his apartment watching Neil flinch from him for the first time, and now he's asleep broken and bruised in his arms. There's something to be said about the irony in that he's sure.

Finally he's in his apartment, gently laying Neil down onto his sofa. He pries his shoes off and then hesitates. His hands moving automatically to unzip Neil's coat to make him more comfortable, but he doesn't want to touch him without his consent. So, he leaves the jacket. He shoves a pillow under his head though, his hand resting atop Neil's now burnt orange curls a second longer than was necessary.

He drags his desk chair into the room, careful not to make too much noise. He needs to be by his side, needs to be there when Neil wakes up so he doesn't panic. He pours himself a drink and watches Neil sleep, his eyes fixed on his chest again, focused on that steady rise and fall. Wymack drinks. Neil sleeps. Those million questions are running through his head again, but the most burning and pressing of them all is how could I let this happen to one of my kids?

#this part is one of my favourite scenes #it's so devastating #and i just can't imagine how tortured Wymack felt in this moment #he spent his holidays assured all his kids were fine #then one calls him out of the blue utterly destroyed #wymack is an underrated driving force and i adore him so much #david wymack #neil josten #all for the game #the foxhole court #aftg

[calkestis]

“One of the things that Neil [Druckmann] and I talked a lot about in the beginning was Joel as a saviour and how dangerous that is. Particularly when you’re trying to save someone that you cannot save at all. So much of what Joel is, is a man who wants to save his daughter, even though she’s been dead for 20 years. So there’s this dark nature of ‘saviourhood’. And here is this other woman saying ‘I’m gone. But that kid is alive. Save her’. And she might as well been saying ‘Stop trying to save your daughter. She’s dead. That kid’s alive, save her’. And that is going to be the interesting challenge for Joel in the next episodes.” - Craig Mazin

↳ HBO The Last of Us podcast | Episode 2, “Infected”

#joel miller #sarah miller #tess servopoulos #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us series #tlou spoilers #tlouhboedit #tlounetwork #useremi #userjoanne #tusercora #xuserannie #userbaz #mine #*

[orionsangel86]

Starting to realise that two of my fandoms may merge next year when Supernatural and Sandman collide in Dead Boy Detectives.

The ghost of Steve Yockey has returned to join Neil Gaiman on a Sandman Adjacent series full of Supernatural style investigation AND its gonna be SO queer.

Yeah Neil is right Tumblr is gonna LOVE this show.

#dead boy detectives #supernatural #the sandman #steve yockey #neil gaiman #(still find it super funny that spn fandom killed steve yockey btw) #but his ghost is still working hard on new queer media #absolute king that he is

[thedilfoccult]

Late Night Ride - Neil Lewis x Reader / Brothers Best Friend

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader / Brothers Best Friend

Summary: Neil had always been a little creepy when it came to you, stealing glances at your chest or legs the older you got. He’s known you since you were a child, being your brothers best friend since high school and all. After a long summer day at the beach with your brother and his group of friends from Gumshoe video, the car is overcrowded and you’re forced to sit on Neil’s lap in order to fit into the car. Not complaining as you had always found him cute, you sat in nothing but your bikini top and see through skirt cover-up. With bumpy roads and the weight of you on his lap, Neil can’t help but use the moment to his advantage and let his desires posses him into taking your virginity right then and there.

Warnings: Loss of virginity, age gap (unspecified), slightly noncon, pervert Neil (yummy), smut with little plot, cockwarming, public sex, unprotected

Notes: Summer is coming up and for the first time in my life I’m excited for the sun. I usually hibernate throughout the year and wake up at winter so I thought I’d get festive with some summer smut. I’m picturing that cool air, purple sky, midnight blue lighting with your skin tingling from the slight sunburn. Enjoy!

—————————————

“So who’s coming today?” You asked your brother in the front seat as the pair of you drove to the beach. The clock read 2pm and the sun was blazing down though the window screens onto your skin, already causing you to build up a sweat.

“You know. The guys from work” Your brother said not giving you any notice, barely even huffing out his response.

“Yeah- really helpful Jon” You said glaring into him.

Before huffing another sigh he responded “Lucien, Neil”. His eyes stayed focus on the road as you remained unsatisfied with his answer, slightly turning up the radio.

“Just those two? I thought more people were coming” You were slightly disappointed, but excited nonetheless because you could spend more personalised time with Neil.

Ever since you turned 18 his eyes were progressively undressing you as time went on. Of course, you had a little crush on him ever since he first came round when he was in high school to watch some obscure French flick with your brother but you were so young, barely even a teenager. He was always kinder to you than he was with most people, not that he was a mean person but he’d always seem so arrogant. You were the only one he treated as if he didn’t have a stick up his ass, treated you as his own sister. But now, starting specifically on your 18th birthday party once you had too much to drink and spoke your mouth off to him, he couldn’t help but feel some kind of sexual pull towards you. You purposely started to wear shorter skirts and lower shirts when he came around, pleased at his reaction as he stared at your skin and gulped his Adam apple down before turning red and shifting uncomfortably in his seat. It was exciting, he wasn’t too much older but he was your brothers best friend and you knew both of you would be found dead if your brother found out how you felt towards him. More importantly, how he felt towards you. It didn’t help that he started watching “best friend’s sister” and “girl next door” porn. God, he felt filthy in his skin after shooting white ropes into tissues wishing it was the inside of your pussy. He had known you since before you even knew was sex was, so seeing you grow up and find your body was exhilarating for him. He knew you were a virgin as well, knowing you had only kissed a couple of guys at parties after a few drinks. He knew how innocent and inexperienced you were. Unfortunately, this only happened to turn him on more to a point where it was torturous, filling his mind with fantasies of ruining your innocence as he fisted his cock for the second time that evening imagining your pretty mouth around it.

“Yeah well, I’m thinking Neil might invite a couple girls once we get there” your chest dropped at your brothers comment.

“Oh…” your eyes trailed out the window.

“Don’t worry though, I’m sure they’ll be nice” Your brother shot you a sincere smile and leant over to rub your thigh.

The rest of the drive was filled with silence as your mind raced with thoughts over who Neil would invite, if he would invite any girls and if so what did they mean to him. As your stomach filled with anxiety, the roads seemed to elongate and each meter had turned into miles, making the rest of the drive a painful one.

——————

“There they are!” Neil screamed across the parking lot as you and your brother exited the car. Instantly, your face heated up as you looked down and couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. Lucien and Neil stood alone with Neil already shirtless, much to your liking, and Lucien carrying the big beach bag. Neil hadn’t looked at you yet, high-fiving your brother and greeting him in their usual loser bro fashion. Lucien looked at you and smiled as he nodded his head as you squeaked a “hi” and left it at that. Your eyes looked over at Neil expecting him to greet you but all you saw was a cocked eyebrow as his eyes scanned your half naked body. Cursing yourself for showing up in just a bikini and see through skirt cover up, you wanted to curl into the ground, anything, just to stop his laser beam gaze over your skin. Finally, his eyes met yours and he huffed a big inhale, only slightly turning his lips into a smile before turning around and walking away.

“Jesus, it’s hot today” Your brother claimed, following just behind Neil with Lucien to his left as you trailed behind.

“I know… I can’t wait to get into the ocean” Lucien said, turning around to look at you. “Come on!” He started waving his hands for you to walk next to him.

Finally, Neil had chosen the spot on the beach with a simple “here” and Lucien dropped the bag and got the towels out. Feeling the tingle of sun over your skin, you unwrapped your skirt and bent over to tuck it into the bag and grabbing some sun lotion. Standing back up you turned around to see Neil already standing behind you, eyes glued to your ass as he stared wide and mouth open a jar. His eyebrow still managed to be cocked as he cleared his throat before his eyes flickered to your face and briefly past the rest of your body. He stood frozen glaring over you, as if it was physically impossible to remove his gaze from your body, constantly having to clear his throat in an attempt to break the obviousness to the tent growing in his trunks.

“You alright there Neil?” Lucien asked as his coughing had become apparent.

“I-uhm- yeah, just something stuck in my throat… sand maybe” he said as he rubbed his chest and gave a half assed smile.

Giving yourself a small smirk before opening the bottle of cream, you turned back around and started squirting the tube over your chest and shoulders, using your hands to rub the cream into your skin and up your neck. Neil had moved significantly closer to you now, close enough that you could hear his slight grunt as he watched you rub the white substance over your exposed areas. After covering what you could by yourself, you innocently looked around to see where your brother was to help you with your back. Much to your dismay, him and Lucien had began running down the beach to the ocean.

“See you losers!” He said as the pair laughed and made their way closer to the water. You awkwardly looked up and saw Neil standing close to you with one hand itching the back of his head, a look of discomfort on his face knowing what you were about to ask.

“Can you help me with my back please?” You said, reaching your arm out to pass him the tube.

“Uh, yeah-yeah of course. Cool” He took the cream as you turned around and moved your hair out of his way. You heard the bottle squirt and a few moments later felt his warm, large hand start at your neck, massaging slowly into your mid back. After only rubbing briefly for a few seconds, he removed his hand and you heard the bottle squirt again. Only this time, the tube had been thrown onto the floor next to your feet as he rubbed his hands together. He placed a strong grip on either sides of your neck and circled small circles at the perfect pressure, following the shape of your body as his hands fell to your shoulders, mid back, waist and lower back. It felt good, and your eyes were slowly shutting. His touch was skilled, much to your surprise, and deliberate on your flesh. His hands squeezed your waist and he stepped closer, you could feel the heat of his skin radiating onto your behind. A small groan fell from his lips as his hands then fell to the lowest of your back he could go, filling the dips above your ass with his thumbs as he rubbed harder, pulling you back slightly onto his crotch. After rubbing your lower back for a couple of seconds with a few groans leaving his lips at whisper level, his thumbs ran up your spine again to the top of your neck.

“There you go” he barely whispered into your ear. A chill ran up your spine as you slowly turned around to create space between you.

“Uhm-thanks” you watched his face as it fell into a slight smirk and he chuckled and walked away, making his way to the ocean to meet your brother and Lucien.

————————

The day had gone on, the boys played a few games on the beach and shared a couple of beers. Neil had reacted insulted when your brother suggested to invite girls, extremely opposed to the idea to bring other people into the hangout. This of course, was amazing news for you. At some point throughout the day, closer to evening time, a group of 2 guys and a girl who you learned to be dating one of the men came over and joined the group. Neil had recognised them as customers that came only the day before and rented out one of his favourite films, exciting asking them how they found the tape. The conversation lasted about an hour and the sun began to fall into the sea as the moon took its place. Disappointingly, the most conversation you had with Neil was when he put sunscreen on you, only giving you prolonged glances throughout the day as he and your brother made friends with the strangers from the day before. Finally, it was time to go home and the sun had completely worn you out, leaving you with a pink tint on your high points and the smell of the sea in your hair. Your brother had invited the pair of guys and the girl to your house for dinner and the afters, promising them there would be enough comfortable space in the car to fit all of you. This of course was not true.

“How will we all fit?” You asked, a couple of the others nodding in agreement.

“I can sit on my boyfriends lap” The girl said kindly.

“Good idea…uhm” Your brother looked around. “Considering I’m the only one who knows how to drive, I need you to sit on someone’s lap” He said looking at you.

“Me?” Your heart thumped a little harder. “Who’s?”

Your brother looked around the group and pointed at Neil, who was equally as surprised as you were. “Considering you’re practically her brother and I can’t trust any of you other pervs, you’ll have to make do with her on your lap for the ride”

Neil took a gulp and slowly looked at you for your reaction. There wasn’t really another choice in this scenario, so you bit the bullet and reluctantly agreed to sit on Neils lap for the car ride home.

——————

“Right, are we all comfortable?” Your brother grinned as he turned around and looked at everyone in the car. You were sat on Neils lap on the left, Lucien in the middle and the guy with his girlfriend on the right, their friend in the front seat and of course your brother driving.

“What do you think?” Neil said, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. “Can we just drive please” he commanded.

“Sure thing” Your brother turned back around and switched the radio on to a deafening volume, everyone having to scream over each other in order to be heard. Which they all did, the car was so loud you couldn’t even hear yourself think. The car started and pulled out the driveway, immediately being hit with bumpy roads and uneven driving ground.

You felt Neil shift again, your head shooting back in an attempt to see what all the discomfort was about. You looked at him as his face was slightly red, faced out the window with almost a pained look on his face. His eyes shifted without moving his head and looked at you, he tutted and grabbed your head and turned it around to face the front. You couldn’t understand why he was acting like this. Were you just too heavy? A wave of insecurity passed through you as you suddenly got extremely conscious over the weight you were putting on him. Wiggling on his lap trying to find a new balance, you felt his fingers instantly dig into your sides as you heard him take a sharp inhale of breath. You snapped your head back again to see him looking at your ass, where you connected to his crotch. His hips twitched up and it caused you to sit further back on him, finally feeling the answer to your question. Neil was incredibly hard. You could feel his cock poking just under your swimsuit and practically a thin layer of material away from touching you. His hands moved to your hips as he pressed you down further, eyes still glued onto your ass and eyebrows furrowed. His chest moved up and down at an aggressive pace as his eyes blinked rapidly. You were in shock, he surprisingly felt big for the size of him. Big and warm, whether it was the sun, the beer or the closeness of you two he was so warm. You pressed your legs together in an attempt to control the pulsing you were feeling yourself in your thong bottoms but this only seemed to pleasure him more as he slowly dropped his head back onto the seat’s headrest. After a couple of moments, he brought his head up and you turned to face the front in almost embarrassment to looking at him get a hard-on just from you sitting on his lap. You felt him come up to your ear and push your hips down simultaneously, even circling you a bit to give him a little bit more friction.

“I need you- need you to be so,so still for me” He whispered into your ear, his lips pressed on your neck as shivers went up your spine. All you could muster was slightly looking at him, a look of confusion on your face. His cock was throbbing by this point, his breathing was so heavy and you’d for sure have marks on your sides the next morning. Luckily the music was as loud as it was and it was dark as it was nighttime, making what he was doing not obvious to the people around you. He lent back onto the back of the seat and pressed himself harder into your mound.

“Sorry guys, the road looks a little bumpy coming up” your brother screamed over the radio.

Just as soon as he said that, you were bouncing incredibly aggressively onto Neil’s lap, feeling yourself grinding unintentionally onto his erection and feeling your walls pulsate around nothing at the rough contact you were receiving. The action of this caused Neil to whimper at a much louder volume, coughing over the sound he made to not bring attention to his pleasure.

“Jesus Neil… you’ve had an awful cough all day, are you alright?” Lucien asked to your right. He tightened his grip on your hips and pushed his hips up in frustration.

“I-Uh-yeah… like I said- the sand” He said breathlessly as he looked out the window.

The roads continued to bounce you forcibly onto his clothed boner as his hands massaged your hips, his head twitching in pleasure. After a couple of minutes he was in agony, you could feel his cock pulsate underneath you at the slightest touch and his groans becoming more and more obvious. He brought his chest to your back and placed his lips against your ear before slowly sucking at your lobe and using his tongue down your neck. You moaned slightly under your breath at the sensation which only encouraged him to go further. With his lips still against your ear, you heard him gulp before he opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry, I-I have to do this” He whined. “I need you so bad” His voice practically cried and purred into your ear.

In shock you turned around as his fingers slipped under your skirt cover up, shifting your thong to the side as you felt your bare pussy pound against his clothed erection. You were soaking and he could feel it through his swimsuit, twitching his hips up in desperation to feel more of you. In one swift movement, his cock was freed from the restraint of his swimsuit and laying on his stomach, your lips bouncing on the underside of his shaft. He used one hand to harshly grab your hips, harder than before to raise you to a higher level, trying his damndest to be as discrete as possible. Lucien was too busy lent over the middle of the car talking to your brother and the guy in the front seat, perfectly covering what Neil was doing with his body to the couple on the right. Not that it would make much difference considering they were too busy twirling tongues with each other. Just as his tip had breached your entrance, your brother warned of a speed bump upcoming which he so clearly didn’t bother to slow down for.

“Speed bump guys!” Your brother said, continuing to speed over the road, causing you to aggressively land your pussy onto Neils cock. The stretch of him was blinding, his tip pounding straight into the back of your cervix with no warning and the stretch of him painful. Though he found little restraint due to how wet you had become, you were still a virgin and his entrance was greeted by the tightest walls he’d ever entered. Your back fell onto his chest as you covered your mouth with your hand in an attempt to cover up the scream your stomach had built up, Neil not doing the same as a loud whimper had left his mouth as his back arched. You felt his chest breath heavily against your back as his whimpers and groans turned into calm cries as the road still bumped and vibrated you around his shaft. Laying on him, he grabbed the side of your face and placed his lips against your ear.

“Oh fuck- fuck- you’re so tight-mmm” He had completely lost composure, losing his dignity to your walls that clenched around his throbbing cock. “I need you to st-stay- fuck oh my god- still” he was choking embarrassingly on his words and you felt your walls clench around him in response to his patheticness. You did as you were told, scared to move as the size of him was still foreign inside you, even slightly moving your hips for comfort caused him to groan and harshly grab you further down onto him.

“Mmm- so-so warm around me. Your pussy’s taking me so well” His hand had left your waist and grabbed the side of the door in an attempt to use it as an outlet for his already growing orgasm.

“You guys alright back there?” You’re brother screamed over the radio which caused you to snap up and quickly move forward, causing an intense heat to shoot up your insides and making Neil whimper again.

“Ye-yeah” You said much too quietly for anyone hear.

The road had seemingly become more bumpy, being able to feel every crack, risen rock and dip on the highway. Neil was practically shaking underneath you, the lack of movement causing his back to arch and brows to furrow as he tried his best to move his hips the most he could. Your back had found it’s way back onto Neils chest again, his hand sneaking underneath your swim suit in a risky attempt to grab your boob. You grabbed his hand and shook your head no in fear you’d get caught, which in turn only made him grab you more aggressively as he flexed his jaw. In retaliation, you tightened your walls around him and clenched him in a rhythmic pattern in desperation to have any slight form of movement or friction. Your ass was wet, not from sweat or sea water but your own arousal. You were piping hot, leaking around his cock and drenching his whole crotch area. Feeling you tighten around him he began to breath heavily again, twitching his hips up to push his already attached tip to your cervix even deeper. The mixture of his slight twitching and the vibration of the car moving was hypnotic, bringing him close to an orgasm.

“I-I’m gonna cum” he whispered in defeat, almost sounding embarrassed. You shot him a look as your eyes widened and your head shook in panic. All he did was chuckle and close his eyes and place his forehead on the side of yours.

“M’gonna cum so deep inside you. Ha-have you leak-“ is all he could say before you felt his cock twitch violently inside you, feeling your walls sprayed in his cum as the already hot area seemed to get boiling. A deep groan had interrupted his sentence as his eyes screwed shut and he grabbed onto you aggressively, hearing his desperate whimpers and groans right next to your ear. You began to clench around him again, although worried and shocked that he had cum inside of you, turned on by how much he seemed to get off by fucking you without moving. His pathetic whimpers were fast paced and he slurred out a mixture of swear words into your face, holding you as close as possible as you continued to feel his seed coat your insides. Hearing his heavy breath slow down and his grip loosen around your waist, you heard him gulp again and sigh out in relief as his eyes stayed shut.

“Fuck” is all he could say. Your breathing too was out of sync and although you felt slightly used, you were still incredibly turned on and disappointed you didn’t get to finish. With his softening cock still inside you he now delicately rubbed your sides, placing small wet kisses on your neck.

“Just wait till we get back” is all he whispered in your ear. “I’ll give you what you deserve”

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #smut #oppenheimer #cillian murphy drabble #oppenheimer smut #watching the detectives #neil lewis #neil lewis smut #peaky blinders #thomas shelby smut #brothers best friend #cillian smut

[weird-an]

tw: mentioned suicide attempts, but Billy can't die, depression, drugs

Billy isn't sure he's alive, but he knows he can't fucking die.

The doctors call it a miracle, he thinks it's a curse. The wounds healed, turning into thin scars, starting to fade after a few days. All the pain becoming only a faint ache. Starcourt is a memory, a bad dream, a fucking joke.

It can't be right. He feels like he's dying, when he's back at Cherry Lane, when he's at home, but far away from California.

His skin feels all wrong, too tight, too cold.

Neil says he's glad Billy survived the "fire at the mall", but he isn't happy about the hospital bills. He's disappointed that all of this happened, but Billy still isn't a man, knows nothing of respect and responsibility. Beating are lessons, but not lasting anymore, the bruises are gone after an hour.

Neil notices. Calls him a freak, a monster - like he has ever seen a real monster, like he knows what it feels like to have one inside his head, like he doesn't see one in the mirror every day.

It's the last day of 1985. Billy can't fucking die.

He tried to using the gun Neil shouldn't have, he tried to using too many pills, he tried to let the Camaro's engine running until he couldn't breathe - but he always wakes up. Sometimes hungover, sometimes hurting, always not dead.

He sits on the Camaro's hood at the quarry, after snorting a line of coke and drinking a bottle of vodka. His heart races, but he still doesn't feel shit.

"Jesus, Billy." Harrington's voice is soft, almost worried. It makes Billy turn around, before he can help himself.

Harrington's got a freaking suit on, tie loosened, hair tousled. He looks as tired as the world is. As Billy is.

"That's one hell of a New Year's party," Harrington says.

"Fuck off." Billy looks away, before he can get lost Harrington's stupid big brown eyes.

"Still better than the Harrington's annual New Year's function." Harrington sits next to him on the car, his knee bumping against Billy's.

"Why are you here?" Billy huffs, staring into the dead of the night. He wants to tell him to piss off, too, but he can't. His pulse is thundering in his ears and he's pretty sure it's got nothing to do with the coke.

"I don't know," Harrington admits. "Maybe I'm... alone."

Billy gets that. He's been alone ever since she walked out of the door.

Harrington laughs and it's a bitter parody of what it should sound like. "I don't know, it's stupid."

"It's not." Billy makes the mistake to turn towards him. Steve is so close. Steve is so warm. "Not at all."

He feels like Steve just offered him a piece of himself and he should give something back, but all he's got to offer is worthless.

"You should stay away," he says, heart in his throat. "I'm a monster."

Steve shakes his head. A curl tickles Billy's skin.

"I've seen monsters and you're not one of them," Steve whispers. His breath is ghosting over Billy's mouth.

Billy shakes, letting go of the breath he didn't know he held. He leans forward, presses his lips against Steve's.

There are fireworks illuminating the sky, pink, gold and blue chasing the darkness away.

Steve kisses back. Billy's lips tingle.

It's the first day of 1986.

Billy is alive. For the first time in months, maybe years.

#immortal billy hargrove #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #superhero au basically #steve x billy #tw sucidal ideation #tw mentioned suicide attempts #tw drugs

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 40

PREV

The Winter Banquet.

Where the Spring Championship announcements happen for Collegiate Exy. A formal event meant to allow the ERC to showcase how their stars weren’t just brutes on the court. Look at how beautiful and handsome they all were. Look at how they danced together. Look at the smiles and laughter and-

Wait.

No.

Put that down.

Who had the great idea to put the Jackals next to the Terrapins? Things have been tense between the teams since the Captain of the Terrapins stole the Captain of the Jackal’s date during the Fall Banquet!

I thought we all agreed that there would never be any more steak knives! What was the point of paying for all the pre-cut tenderloins if we’re just going to give them steak knives?! 

Really gotta find an intern to pin this fiasco on.

Oh great the Foxes are leaving! Did we even get a picture of Kevin Day in his suit? Fuck it’s going to be a two intern firing kind of day isn’t it.

Someone get an eye on the Ravens before they try and grab some hapless idiot and sacrifice him to revive Riko Moriyama. If there’s even one more damn tabloid with a blurry photo of ‘Riko Moriyama’ to prove that his death was faked then heads will roll.

Honestly, the biopic that some Edgar Allan Film student is making about him seems pretty interesting. The ERC just wishes people would stop taking pics of the ‘lead actor’ and sending it to tabloids as proof that the King hadn’t died.

Fuck, the Foxes left before we got any decent pictures.

Well just great.

You’d think that after all these years of the Foxes leaving early they’d have learned that getting pictures as they arrive is the most important thing. 

Oh thank god it looks like the Trojans are starting to mediate the fight. You can always count on good ol’ Jeremy.

Fuck.

A Raven got too close to Jean Moreau and now Jeremy Knox has punched a Backliner. Great. The Trojans have formed ranks around Moreau but the kid’s just too damn tall. Someone has hit him in the head with an especially saucy meatball, he’s not injured, just confused. The Trojans are acting like it’s a gunshot he just took to the head.

The refreshment table just seemed to collapse in on itself and god wasn’t that just an allegory for this entire damn evening.

Anita Flores sighs as she watches yet another banquet go down in a riot. Honestly, she doesn’t know why they think these will end up differently. She finds herself often missing when she used to coordinate banquets for football teams.

She sighs and thinks about her least favorite interns.

Alex had been getting a bit too cocky lately. He’d make a good sacrifice.

***

(Three hours earlier)

The Palmetto State Foxes were on their way to the Winter Banquet. From what FF understood it was categorically always a 90% chance of a shitshow. Honestly FF was surprised that the percentage was that low.

There was a general tenseness in the air surrounding it that went beyond the Banquet’s propensity to become a fight. 

This year the Winter Banquet was going to be held up at the Binghamton Bearcat’s stadium. The nation knew the story from the news and FF knew the story from both that and from the Foxes themselves who were there at the time in bits and pieces.

Captain Neil had been kidnapped from this stadium and then he’d been tortured. FF hadn’t even been on the team when it had happened and he was anxious about Captain Neil going anywhere near the stadium.

“He was just…he was just gone.” Matt had said, “Neil was gone and Kevin said that he was probably dead when Andrew got back with his phone.” He continued as the two of them sat up late in the living room of the dorm one night back in early October.

“I thought Andrew was going to kill me y’know.” Kevin had said bottle in hand as FF tried to help him up the stairs because apparently he would 100% guarantee vomit if he was in the nausea box. “I thought that maybe I deserved it, since I didn’t help Neil. I just let him walk to his death.” He said and despite assurances that he wouldn’t puke FF’s shoes did not make it through that journey unscathed.

“We called…we called everywhere.” Nicky had stared up at the ceiling of his hospital room, “Andrew was adamant that he was still alive even though Kevin kept saying he was dead and that dead was the nicest thing he could hope for. I thought that was a terrible thing to say.” Nicky curled up closer to him.

“I told you, Andrew dragged me like I was nothing to get to Neil. I don’t think he even noticed the guns.” Wymack said to Abby as the two sat on the back porch during Aras’ going away party. “His eyes were on Neil.” he gestures towards where Andrew was watching Captain Neil wrestle with Matt.

“He looked like shit.” Aaron had said unable to stomach a diagram of different degrees of burn in his medical book. “At least he was alive.” He adds.

“A hero.” Andrew’s voice had been what could be considered teasing from Andrew, “Someone who looks like her.” he had said touching Captain Neil’s burn scars as they drove away from the stadium after coming back to pick FF up.

Captain Neil had come to him the day before they were set to drive out, “Take me somewhere no one will find me for an hour.” FF hadn’t quite understood what Captain Neil meant, he never hid anywhere. People just failed to realize where he was.

“Ok.” he says instead of trying to explain because being unnoticed means no one hid codes from him.

The roof of the Library wasn’t that much different from the roof of the Tower, only that it was taller and bigger. Captain Neil had shut his phone off after texting something, likely to Andrew, and then put it into his pocket.

FF settled on the roof, sat with his back against a heating vent to stay warm. Captain Neil settled next to him and they sat in silence. It felt like back at the start of this where Captain Neil and Andrew would come find him and just sit in silence. 

It was nice. He had missed-

“They act like the stadium is the thing that kidnapped me.” Captain Neil says.

Oh okay, quiet time is over apparently.

FF doesn’t say anything, figuring that nothing he could say right now would be the right thing and maybe Captain Neil just needs to talk through some stuff.

“That stadium is where I thought I’d have my last good memory.” Captain Neil explains, “I’m not scared of it and yet Andrew’s acting like I’ll die if I’m left alone for more than 2 seconds while we’re there. Every time we go there they all act like the most important thing in the world is that I get on that bus at the end of the night.” Captain Neil explains.

FF does remember how Andrew had grabbed Captain Neil after their October game up in Binghamton. How Captain Neil had complained bitterly but had gone after looking at Andrew.

“He’s dead!” Captain Neil exclaimed and FF couldn’t help but look over at the entrance and hoped no one heard them. “He’s dead! I watched him get shot! He can’t kidnap me again!” Captain Neil continued to yell and FF couldn’t help but worry that they’d be heard below, or worse bother a student trying to study below.

FF reached out and touched Captain Neil’s arm and bright blue eyes turned to him, “We’re on a library. Don’t yell.” FF said and Captain Neil looked at him incredulously.

Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and FF was worried that he’d gone and broken his Captain.

He suddenly felt bad about his own bout of hysterical laughter a while back.

“Thanks Smith.” Captain Neil had said with a smile.

They had sat up there until it was dark and Andrew had started calling FF’s phone and Captain Neil took the call to say he was coming back.

Now they’re on the bus, dressed nicely, and on their way up to Binghamton’s stadium. Captain Neil and Andrew are hidden in the far back of the bus with Andrew looking far more like a watchdog than anything else the closer they got to their destination.

Captain Neil had seemed largely resigned to this treatment at this point. Eventually they were at the stadium and shown to their seats. They were sat across from the Trojans and it seemed like the rest of the team was quite pleased with that.

“Smith!” Captain Jeremy Knox is smiling at him, “Nice to see you again bud, nice name change too.” he says.

“It’s nice to see you too, Captain Jeremy.” FF says and doesn’t notice how Captain Neil’s head whips around to look at him.

“You two know each other?” Nicky asks looking between the two of them with excitement.

“Of course! We offered Smith a spot at the USC Trojans.” Captain Jeremy says and FF feels his stomach cramp at the memory.

That had been terrifying.

Coach Rheman and Captain Jeremy wanted to sit down to make their offer with his parents. He was still 17 and unable to sign anything legal without their permission. He’d tried to decline and move past them and Captain Jeremy had put the final nail in the coffin at the time for any thought that he could go to college on the power of his apparent Exy capabilities.

“I saw in your file that you have brothers! USC always gives a second look at student applicants who already have siblings in the university. You could go to school with your brothers!” he had smiled brightly like he wasn’t issuing FF one of the most terrifying threats he’d ever heard in his entire life.

He had given the firmest ‘No thank you, I’m not interested in playing Exy in college.’ he could and was running to his Grandma’s to breath into a bag for twenty minutes.

“I see you changed your mind about playing Exy in college.” Captain Jeremy said with the same smile that still feels like a threat.

“Coach Wymack and Captain Dan were convincing.” he says and looks to see if there’s any way he can move further away from Captain Jeremy’s attention.

“Can I ask what convinced you to be a Fox?” Captain Jeremy asks, “I’m always trying to see what support we should be offering. I found out last year that we missed out on Andrew because we didn’t offer spots to Aaron or Nicky. I thought since you had brothers that’d be the thing that got you.” Captain Jeremy leans across the table but stops when he notices the Foxes all tense. “Whoa, what’s up?” he asks.

Jean Moreau sighs from next to Captain Jeremy, “Not everyone wants to go to college with their family, Jeremy.” Jean says, “Did it not cross your mind that he changed his entire name?” he asks with a raised brow.

Jeremy blinks, “Oh,” he looks at FF, “I guess that wasn’t the right thing to offer.” he says leaning back in his chair.

“I guess I should thank you for offering that?” Nicky says wryly before turning to look at FF, “You look better in orange anyways.” he says.

“Thank you Nicky.” FF returns loyally.

The banquet gets started shortly afterwards. Food is served. The bar is opened. People are talking. FF finds himself relaxing the longer the conversations around him go on. Matt is talking with a backliner on the Trojan line named Todd in good cheer. Captain Neil, Kevin, and Jean are all talking about the latest updates with Ichirou in French with the occasional gesture towards FF. Jean Moreau looks at him with a raised eyebrow but gives him a single nod when Captain Neil explains what happened.

Jeremy is chatting with Jack and even Jack was finding it hard to maintain his usual level of rudeness in the face of such unbridled positive energy. Nicky was talking with Katelyn and Alvarez. Aaron was chatting with a fellow med student college athlete who was an offensive dealer. 

It was shaping up to be a good night.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

#Fluent Freshman AU #Jeremy Knox essentially threatening FF on accident #With a huge smile #Fucking kills me #Winter Banquet getting into full swing #Ya'll know where it's heading but not all the parts that happen #Foxes are on high alert #No one likes Neil being in Binghamton #There was definitely an all-hands meeting about how Neil is not allowed to go anywhere alone #That if a security guard approaches Neil you treat that security guard like an active threat #Nicky just thinks it's Andrew wanting an excuse to hold his BF's hand all night #Andrew: “Smith you're on covert operations. Keep an eye out for threats.” #FF: “Aye aye Captain.” #Neil: “OH SO NOW HE'S A CAPTAIN TOO? WHAT'S NEXT?!” #Neil is butt hurt about the whole “Captain Jeremy” thing #He could accept it for Dan #But JEREMY? #Neil's gonna need a lot of TLC to get over this betrayal TBFH #In adult news #My closing is next week Friday! #Wooo #I really speedran the whole owning property thing #Thank you bullshit luck #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil #Wow 40 parts on this thing #Still wild #Thanks for joining me on this ride

[robthegoodfellow]

I'm Glad My Dad Died

mungrove | slightly expanded version of fic written for @strangerthingscharityzine | ao3

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Billy had a secret: he was glad his dad was dead. So glad that even when his mom sold their house in Ocean Beach and moved them to Hawkins, Indiana, uprooting him from his friends and the sea and everything Billy loved, he still wouldn’t go back to the way things were. Given the options—California, dad alive; or Indiana, dad dead—he’d pick the second every time.

He would, even though Hawkins was its own hell. Learned the hard way that among prepubescent country bumpkins, embroidered roses on your shirt and hair like Shirley Temple bought you a one-way ticket to Loserville.

It was the fall of 1979. Disco was dying and former flower children were gearing up to vote for Reagan. Kumbaya over, time to make America great again.

So, yeah—sixth grade sucked, but stuff at home was world’s better. They were living with Aunt Doris—because San Diego was too expensive, his mom said, and wouldn’t it be nice to get a fresh start?

Mom was really into the whole fresh start thing—which Billy suspected was fueled by guilt and determination to be the kind of mother she hadn’t been before. And… he appreciated that. He did.

But—he wished she would stop? Put down the pen, step away from the extracurricular sign-up sheets.

Because if the outfit put a target on his back, swim team aimed the bow, and band fired the arrow. 

You’ll miss the water, honey. And you love music! 

She wasn’t wrong. He did love those things—but not enough to willingly wear a Speedo in public or blunder through some Beethoven on the flute. Also in public.

Oh—why the flute? Because she’d fed him a steady diet of hippie tunes from the cradle and knew how much he dug Jethro Tull. Perfectly reasonable explanation—his peers would definitely understand.

Here lies Billy Hargrove, innocent victim of social homicide. 

The bullying was relentless, but Billy figured he could take it. No middle school bully could come close to the one he’d lived with all his life. 

You know, the one he was glad was dead.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Billy hadn’t wanted to attend the talent show, but Mom insisted it was important to support his friends. By which she meant her friends—women she’d been palling around with who had kids in said show.

Kids she’d been aggressively arranging playdates with like Billy was five. 

Patrick’s talent was making twenty free-throw shots in a row. Robin’s was singing “This Land is Your Land” in four different languages. His mom and Mrs. Buckley had laughed about keeping the less than patriotic lyrics, assuming the Spanish rendition would fly over people’s heads.

Billy felt bad even thinking it, but he did wonder if his mom pushing these particular friends at him was part of her fresh start campaign.

Pat was black. Robin was a girl. And his dad had a habit of muttering snide remarks about anyone who wasn’t a WASP packing a sizable stinger—who wasn’t a clone of Neil Hargrove, basically.

And look, Pat and Robin were—fine. But he knew and they knew that they were only hanging out because their moms wanted them to, which was awkward as hell. Made his palms sweat whenever they were together or whenever they said hi at school despite him being a fairy freak according to kids whose opinions mattered. 

They were nice, but it felt like pity. Embarrassing in a way that made him shrivel up inside.

So he wasn’t in the best mood, slumped in the auditorium between his mother and Doris, praying no one pelted him with shit from behind. Mom felt crappy enough about all those years with Neil—Billy didn’t need her kicking herself for scooping him out of the fire and into a frying pan.

Pat set a record—28 in a row—and Billy clapped. Robin sang her song wearing a daisy crown, and Billy clapped. Dully, he watched as stagehands set up the next act, hauling out a drum kit.

Gareth, this shrimpy sixth grader, sat at the drums. Then an eighth grader came out, followed by a couple kids in seventh, the former bearing an electric guitar, one of the latter a bass. The guitarist waved, leaned into the mic—skinny guy with a buzzcut, eyes big and dark as an alien. 

We are Corroded Coffin—paused as a contingent of the audience went nuts—and this song is called Paranoid.

In the next row, a kid whispered, excited: Think they’ll make Coleman pull the plug again?

Gareth banged his drumsticks, counting them off. 

The opening riffs were like nothing Billy had heard before—this grind of chords that rattled teeth, thrummed in the chest. He straightened, compelled forward, a fishing line hooked deep.

Buzzcut was bent over the strings so low that all you could see was the top of his head, a fuzzy cue ball. Then Gareth kicked in, and the front man wailed the first verse, this nasal staccato, sort of speak-singing.

Billy scrambled to decipher the rapidfire—caught bits of the first verses. Then the bridge begged for help, and the rest landed loud and clear.

I need someone to show me The things in life that I can't find I can't see the things that make       true happiness I must be blind

The words were meant for him—just for Billy. It’s me. The guitarist leapt, plunged into a driving solo. The song’s about me.

Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal

Helpless, Billy turned to his mom, who grinned, whispering they’re great, aren’t they? He could only nod, swinging back to the guitarist, riveted until the final blaring note.

For Christmas, Billy unwrapped the smallest package under the tree—a cassette. It was all he’d asked for: Black Sabbath’s greatest hits album.

Because that night of the talent show, he sold his soul for rock n’ roll.

More specifically, for heavy metal.

More secretly, for the boy with the big brown eyes.

Eddie, he’d found out at school the next day, gossip overheard at lunch. The boy was Eddie.

Eddie Munson.

And whenever Billy caught a glimpse of him, the rest of that year, he thrummed like an electric guitar.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Unfortunately, his passion for headbanging and powerchords did not meaningfully improve the remainder of middle school, and by the time he walked the stage at eighth grade graduation, Billy resolved to make a change—give himself a fresh start on his terms.

First, he mowed endless lawns and bought a new wardrobe: bootcut jeans with matching boots, which lent him some height and a certain swagger; button downs in dark colors worn open to his sternum and white tees like the crew from Outsiders; a bitchin’ leather jacket.

His hair had progressed from Shirley Temple to Farrah Fawcett, so he trotted to the barber for a Bon Jovi bi-level. Almost chickened out at the mall when he got his ear pierced, but loved the way the earring swung from his left lobe… though the right would’ve been more accurate. 

He quit band and swim. Thought maybe he’d try basketball instead, and enlisted Pat to help him practice.

They were actual buddies by then.

Lastly, he took up smoking. Marlboro Reds, because they were badass. Soldiered through the pack all summer, suppressing a gag on every pull till he was puffing like a chimney.

August before ninth grade, Pat’s brother let them tag along to a party at the quarry; if Billy got in good with upperclassmen, it could pave the way to social acceptance—maybe even… popularity?

Total pipe dream, but then… it worked.

That night was one for the record books: first time smoking dope, shot-gunning a beer… first time a girl went down on him.

First time he’d seen Eddie in two years. Wouldn’t even have recognized him, except the eyes hadn’t changed. Eddie was a junior and looked it: taller, wild dark hair to his shoulders, tattoos peeking from his sleeves. He made a brief appearance and vanished—there to sell some supply, not socialize.

Billy wished he’d stayed. Admitted then what he was most excited about for high school: the chance to see Eddie Munson again.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Ironically, the object of Billy’s obsession had suffered a fall from grace in the transition to the big leagues: swirling rumors swore he was a Satan-worshiping anarchist and a burnout to boot. A weirdo who played geeky games with his loser friends.

Except—unlike Billy, Eddie didn’t give a fuck. While Billy strutted around vaguely unsettled, ill at ease with his costume, this immersive performance for the foreseeable future, Eddie had unveiled his freak flag—reveled in it, let it fly.

Regret gnawed at him, grew in Billy’s gut—knew if he were a little braver, he could trash this cool kid stuff and… 

End of Eddie’s senior year, Billy was sick at heart. Knew he’d missed his shot.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

So imagine his confusion, surprise—his hidden euphoric delight—when Billy spotted that dark mop atop a wiry frame loping across the parking lot on the first day of eleventh grade.

Eddie should have graduated, but for whatever reason… hadn’t.

Thus, a new resolution: seize this chance. Be Eddie’s friend.

By second semester, Billy had worked his way up to casual chit chat and also, incidentally, was a raging pothead—so much so that his mother was worried, and she had spent the 60s stoned out of her gourd.

Let him experiment, Doris advised, winking at Billy over dinner. His grades are fine. What’s the harm?

The following evening, Doris showed him her special cookies stashed in the freezer, cautioning him to only ever take one bite and be patient. Billy asked if he could give one to his friend.

Top tier moment, right up there with Dad dying. Eddie’s eyes lit up all starry, demanded Billy come hang so they could make like Keebler—try the old elfin magic—and Billy was blessed to learn that Loaded Eddie = Handsy Eddie.

Blessed and cursed, because Eddie learned that Blazed Billy = Honest Billy. Tell me a secret, Eddie said, tickling. Tell me a secret.

Nothing happened. Eddie was just… affectionate. Bit of a snuggler. Who now knew he was the reason Billy was such a metalhead. 

And that Billy was glad—about his dad.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Eddie was held back again, and suddenly math and history were Billy’s favorite classes because Eddie sat next to him in the back row. Seemed to do decently with Billy there egging him on.

Thus, his final resolution: graduate with Eddie. Drag him across the finish line if necessary. Billy held study sessions he didn’t need at the library after school, invited Eddie to join—and Eddie did.

Eddie invited Billy to come see his band play at a local bar on Tuesdays—and Billy did.

Tell me a secret, Eddie said one weekend, when they were sharing a bowl, and Billy snorted, gazed into bloodshot eyes. Glad you got held back. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be doing this. Eddie smirked, soft. Getting high? Billy laughed. Hanging out.

Billy turned eighteen that March, and the Buckleys and McKinneys came over to celebrate, as usual. Unusual was the doorbell as they were about to eat, Eddie and Wayne trooping in, sorry for being late.

Robin picked up on something that night—cornered him in the bathroom. Are you and Eddie…? Billy went tight, and she rushed to reassure. It’s okay if you are. I am, too. So Billy breathed, calmed. I am. I dunno if he is. Robin arched her brow. From where I’m sitting, odds are good.

Billy spent weeks yanking hope by the roots.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Come May, they walked in green cap and gown—hugged in the milling crowd, Eddie cackling wet in his ear, a clinging koala. Didn’t think I could do it.

Billy brought him along to Robin’s graduation party. In the backyard, her old childhood treehouse beckoned, and they heeded the call.

Tell me a secret, Eddie said, sitting back against mossy boards. They weren’t even high. He flicked Billy’s earring—set his heart swinging. That should be on the other side, Billy said, and stared until Eddie flushed red, understood. I got a secret, he said, and Billy didn’t dare to know but did. 

Eddie said it: I’ve wanted to kiss you all year.

A click as Billy swallowed, bone dry. Then do it.

And Eddie did.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

#mungrove #when characters meet as kids you know the drill #apologies to jennette mccurdy #eddie munson #billy hargrove #guest appearances from billy's mom robin buckley and pat mckinney

[ninyard]

NEILS QUIRKS FROM THE NEST PLS

Had to clear this one from the drafts because YES. Enjoy:)

-

Andrew suspected something had changed with Neil as soon as he started playing again after his disappearance at New Year’s. It wasn’t his hair, or the new scars that littered his skin from head to toe. It wasn’t the new ferocity he played with, though of course something had changed within him to make him play like a Raven. The differences weren’t in things physical, in looks or the way he played, but it still took him an annoyingly long amount of time to figure it out.

The first time he noticed anything wasn’t from Neil. He hadn’t been paying attention, instead watching Kevin who was watching Neil. In a split second movement Kevin’s attentive and focused face softened into a look that paled his skin and widened his eyes.

“What is it?” Andrew blurted out, and Kevin averted his gaze, not realising he was being watched. The look of horror was glazed over in seconds, his eyebrows furrowed instantly at Andrew’s question.

“Nothing,” Kevin snapped back. His grip tightened around the racquet he was holding before he barked an order down the court. He turned back to Andrew for a quick, “Watch the court. Keep your eyes on the ball, not me.” Andrew rolled his eyes at the suggestion, and looked towards Neil, who was following the ball with such intensity it took his mind away from Kevin for a minute.

The next time Andrew seen that look on Kevin’s face was when they were both sat on the floor of the court, watching Neil run drills, trying to regain his footing under normal conditions. Andrew almost missed it, but at the time Neil was aiming for a target Kevin had put in the goal. He didn’t miss a single one. He went again, and again, and again, not missing, until one shot fell a little wide and hit the back of the goal instead. Red illuminated his face and one, two, three he hit his racquet on top of his shoes. He repositioned his hands on the racquet, picked up another ball, and went again. Andrew had turned to Kevin before the light had went out, and he just caught the look when Kevin turned and wiped it away.

“What was that?” Andrew looked him dead in the eyes. “And don’t try tell me nothing.”

“Nothing,” Kevin’s eye twitched at the lie.

“Oh, it’s far too early in the morning to make me drag it out of you.” He squinted, trying to take the answer from Kevin’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” he tried, more honestly, less guarded. “Just.. watch him or go help him, I don’t care. Just stop looking at me, okay?”

Andrew watched Kevin for a moment more before standing up to grab his helmet and pull it over his head. He strapped it tight walking across the court, twirling his goalie stick in his hands. Neil turned at the noise, and his face softened ever so slightly when he realised he was coming to help. Andrew shoved the target out of the goal and stood, preparing himself, getting into position.

“Again.” He commanded, watching Neils hands, his eyes, his stance. He calculated where Neil was going to land the balls and allowed for three to pass by his racquet before deflecting a fourth. There it was again. One, two, three. Hard hits onto his shoes, done like a habit, like he wasn’t even thinking. Andrew snuck a glance at Kevin who was sat forward now, his head resting in his hands. Neil caught a ball into the net of his racquet and hurled it towards Andrew. He let it in, and watched the red reflect onto the floor of the court. Another twist of the racquet in his hands and he stopped Neils next strike with an echoing whack of the ball, sending it to Kevin’s side of the court. One, two, three. Andrew stood with his racquet by his side, and didn’t resume his position when Neil picked up a ball that had rolled back his way.

“Take position.” Neil nodded his head upwards, tightening his grip on the stick in between his hands. When Andrew didn’t move, he fell out of ready-position. “Andrew, come on.”

“What is that you’re doing?” He flicked up his visor to get a clearer look at Neil. “With your racquet?”

“What?” Neil’s reaction was genuine, like he hadn’t even realised what he was doing. His eyes flicked to his racquet when Andrew mimicked the tap, tap, tapping of the stick. He pulled his helmet off just enough to rest it on the top of his head. His hair stuck to his face with sweat. “Nothing. It’s fine. Can we keep going?” Andrew banged his stick on the court floor this time, instead of his shoe. It echoed around the stadium with a ferocious bang. “Stop. If you’re not going to be productive then put the target back and let me practice.” Even louder, he hit his racquet again. The court doors had opened and Kevin was making his way towards them to stop the interaction. Andrew made a stabbing motion with his finger towards Kevin and passed him as he headed to leave the court.

“Why are you mad at me?” Kevin threw his hands into the air and sighed as he kept walking, turning around for a moment and walking backwards.

“You know what that is,” Andrew waved a hand over his shoulder. “And you’re deciding not to tell me when you know he won’t.” He didn’t stop or falter on his quick walk to the door.

“Edgar Allan.” Kevin sighed Andrew’s way. When Andrew turned to look over his shoulder, Kevin was looking at Neil, who’d dropped his racquet to his side and raised his hands in a questioning gesture. “He must’ve picked it up over Christmas.”

“Well, he didn’t pick it up off the fucking ground.” Andrew had reached the court doors and leaned with his back against them. The three of their voices carried through the empty stadium, and even the smallest noise bounced off the walls.

“I’m right here.” Neil half-laughed, half-whined. “What are you talking about?”

“The Master’s cane.” Kevin sighed, switching to French. “The butt of your racquet.”

“Bonjour, oui oui, comment allez-vous!” Andrew mocked in a terrible french accent. “In English so the whole class can understand, Queen.” Neil had stopped, frozen while he spoke.

“Is that why?” Neil whispered in French to Kevin.

“You probably played on a couple broken toes.” Kevin looked at Andrew as he spoke, knowing he couldn’t understand, knowing he wouldn’t get it, even if he could. “He would do that,” Kevin quickly and quietly mimicked the banging of his own racquet onto the court floors, not quite able to meet Neil’s gaze. He had hooked his fingers into the of racquet and grimaced at the memory of gritted teeth and crushed digits. “Three times. If you missed a ball, if you didn’t catch it. It’s Pavlovian, maybe.”

“I don’t remember that.” Neil said, with a slow blink, a lie accompanied with a twist of the stick in his hands. He could remember, if he thought hard enough about it. He could hear the angry tapping from the sidelines as if it were on the court now, the throbbing pain caused by the cane slamming down onto blistered and fractured toes. “How long have I been doing it?”

“Since you came back.” Andrew coughed impatiently, annoyance growing at the continued French. “I was hoping you’d grow out of it.”

“You were…” Neil shifted in position and stood fully facing Kevin with his racquet in both hands across his waist. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was hoping you’d grow out of it.” Kevin repeated in a softer voice, picking up a ball that had slowly rolled his way, sitting it into his net. “Thea is the only other person I’ve seen do something like that, and she doesn’t even know that I’ve noticed.”

After a moment of silence, Neil turned to Andrew with a hand on his helmet, prepared to go back to the abandoned practice. He paused, as if finding it hard to find the right words in English. “It’s fine.” He said, meaning we’ll talk about it later.

Andrew nodded, meaning the explanation better be good.

They continued to practice in silence, Andrew off to one side of the court, and only a handful of times did Neil start to tap his foot or the court floor before he caught himself and took a pause. All three suddenly hyper aware of the anxious tic, the other two watched as Neil would consciously hold his racquet between his legs or underneath his arm to shake out his hands each time he noticed himself doing it.

Not long later, Kevin had shown him a video that had been taken during a penalty shoot out from a match, with the intention of either critiquing or complimenting his form. That became irrelevant, as Neil’s captured attention hadn’t lasted long, turning away from the video to cringe after watching himself in complete ignorance tap the end of his racquet on the top his shoe. It was a warning to himself to make the shot, but he hadn’t even realised that he’d done it. It didn’t matter that he’d scored, or that Kevin was speaking to him; All he could think of was the flashes of memories that came back from his weeks in the Nest.

The flashes of pain, of punishment, of languages he couldn’t understand and languages that he could. The thought of blood came in waves, hand in hand with the ghost of a thumb pressed hard into a bruise, of the mobility aid that had become a weapon, of ruthless and unrelenting pain.

It had taken quite some time to get rid of it, and even then he found it came back in random appearances. He’d made Andrew and Kevin both promise to point it out when he did it, and after the first few practices filled with wasted time caused by their frequent interruptions, he’d started to whittle it down to a fairly infrequent occurrence in order to maintain the flow of their sessions. It was a habit that stuck far longer than some of the others that had clung to him from the Nest. One that was too noticeable, too hard to hide. One that he eventually managed to grow out of.

Andrew and Kevin both noticed very subtly things on and off the court that Neil had brought home from Edgar Allan, but after the Spring that he had, after finally calling the Foxes his own, he slowly but surely got further and further away from what had happened to hum. The further he got from the Ravens, after Riko’s death, the end of a season, a summer of keeping himself in practice; he learned how to forget, how to move on from the deranged lifestyle of the Ravens that Kevin knew all too well. Eventually he would notice the three taps from the coaches bench during a Raven’s match, and eventually he wouldn’t feel his heart skip a beat at it.

#i never know how to end these short lil things #but here’s a short take on Neil vs the impact of Edgar Allan #Neil josten #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #Kevin day #Andrew minyard

[foxufortunes]

From: unknown number you’ve been invited to a monsters ball lucky you rabbit

Finally, the fic is out, A Monsters' Ball the pro-exy team MSBY Black Jackals (ft Andreil and some rabbits). Details like team line up and positions, alt jerseys, layers and some backstories beneath the cut.

So, our team line up and some details (and yes, I do have a colour coded spreadsheet to keep track of all this, which Neil and Sakusa constantly mess up by being the wrong year for their age bc they're babies, but ages are rough because no everyone has a declared birthday/age) with some art breaks between:

#4 Captain Meian Shuugo - 29, backliner, 5yrs MSBY, 5yrs college, from one of the country's best high school teams, 1 season as captain, trying really hard to be mature and not find everyone's antics funny, eternal rival to Hirugami Fukurou, captain of the champions, the Alders.

#20 V.Captain Hirugami Shouko - 26, backliner, 2yrs MSBY, 5yrs college, from another top high school, middle child of 2 pro-exy players (two of the earliest adopters before it got big, probably ppl who went to uni with Tetsuji and Kayleigh), younger sister of Alders captain Fukurou, joined the Jackals out of desire to say fuck you to her older brother.

#2 Amani Kanoka - 23, striker, rookie MSBY, 5yrs college, from a private all girls high school that became the best in the country, known as the Queens of Exy, very shy, has a lot of confidence issues, that she handles by being the best on court.

#5 Nathaniel Wesninski - 24, striker, MSBY rookie, 1yr Baltimore Wildcats, 4.5 yrs EAU Ravens, 0.5yrs PSU Foxes, joined the Foxes after only a year playing in a nowhere team but was quickly poached by the Ravens at Christmas that year and was a regular member the team the next year under his real name, very flighty, big fan of secrets, no idea how to handle the Jackals' chaos (they're like the Foxes but without the trauma).

#12 Bokuto Koutarou - 24, striker, 1yr MSBY, 5yrs college, one of the top 5 strikers in Japan in high school, another top high school team, ultimate himbo, might have committed tax fraud, has a word of the day calendar he's trying really hard to use properly, known for super sharp angle shots and for just bodying people and the ball.

#15 Sakusa Kiyoomi - 22, striker, rookie MSBY, 5yrs college, championship highschool team several yrs running, one of the top 3 strikers in Japan in high school, collegiate MVP, Team Japan 2016 squad, Team Japan U19 rep, grumpy baby, very into properly folded handkerchiefs, do not touch, preferably do not interact outside of court, speak to him via his adorable cousin or not at all unless saving him from bugs.

Halfway through the team stats, time for some art. The Away Colours! Maybe the racquets change to white too, idk I couldn't be bothered to recolour them though.

Ok, back to the second half of the team:

#3 Andrew Minyard - 25, goalkeeper, 2yrs MSBY, 3yrs USC Trojans, 2yrs PSU Foxes, best goalkeeper and rookie awards during his rookie season, didn't really tell anyone his plans after university just kind of vanished, only told a handful of people he'd signed for a team, Neil thought he was dead, he has a motorcycle now because city traffic is awful on his sports cars and the stadium is walking distance, sometimes plays defensive dealer.

#6 Inunaki Shion - 26, goalkeeper, 4yrs MSBY, 3yrs college (dropped out to go pro), middling high school only competed nationally once, the vodka aunt of the team, here to get people drunk, instigate drama with the monsters and then sit back and laugh, actually very soft on the youngsters, tolerates stupid nicknames like Inu-san and Wan-san (never get tired of that being translated Mr Dog and Mr Woof).

#9 Adriah Tomas - 27, backliner, 1yr MSBY, a transfer from European leagues, surprisingly fast for his size, just happy to be here, comes across as a bit of an airhead, but is usually right next to Inunaki instigating chaos and then pretending he doesn't understand the language enough to know what happened.

#10 Oliver Barnes - 30, backliner, 2yr MSBY, Team USA 2016/2012 Olympic squads, transfer from America, big friendly softie, dad of the team, actual dad of a 5yo girl, starting to consider retirement into coaching so is happy to spend the end of his elite career with these idiots.

#13 Miya Atsumu - 23, offensive dealer, 5yrs MSBY, Team Japan 2016 Olypmic squad, Team Japan U19 rep, from a top high school, considered the best dealer in Japan in high school, signed straight from high school, a particularly offensive dealer, easily doubles as striker, all rounder (all Jackals are all rounders but the dealers in particular), demanding and thoughtless jerk but not trying to be nasty, can come across as arrogant but is the first to accept his own mistakes.

#21 Hinata Shouyou - 22, defensive dealer, MSBY rookie, 2yrs playing street exy in Brazil, middling high school team on the rise, player backliner in high school despite wanting to be a striker, but learned to play all positions in Brazil, sometimes move position based on what team they're facing, general ray of sunshine, obsessed with exy, does meditation and yoga in the sunrise preferably on a beach.

Ok, team done, have some more art because yes, I did layer these team pics up slowly from the base dri-fit layers to the armour/padding to the jerseys.

The Jackals provide uniform everything from base layers to padding to anything like compression sleeves, knee/arm pads and everything else. Armour is provided by them to ensure it's up to regulation and team standards, the Jackals require some kind of shoulder padding (most of the team has detachable shoulder pads, while Bokuto and Sakusa who prefer more shoulder rotation and just more coverage respectively, where seperate bicep/shoulder pads). I've talked more about armour on older wip posts, but they're based on lacrosse chest pads. Brief version: strikers were shorter, around the vitals, backliners generally are longer on the sides to protect the ribs, goalies have more coverage because duh, and dealers wear whatever they like. Every single one has either hollow rigid or extra padded piece over the centre of the chest because, especially in younger players, a ball to the chest can stop your heart.

And there we go!

#all for the game #aftg #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #neil josten #nathaniel wesninski #aftg au #do I tag this as andreil? the fic is andriel so I guess #andreil #i can never remember which way we spell andreil #aftg fic #and then the other half of the tags and I dont want to tag them all #msby black jackal #haikyuu #miya atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #bokuto koutarou #hinata shouyou #inunaki shion #screw it we're leaving it there with msby4 and my boy wan-san