#Andrew and Neil were also like 3 hours later than they said they were going to be

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 45

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Renee Walker stands next to two of her best friends in the entire world holding up a hand drawn sign. There's an, admittedly crudely drawn, Fox on the sign that Allison had made up.

Renee had seen it and smiled from across the airport as she made her way over to where Dan and Allison were standing waiting for everyone to come. The team had managed to coordinate their flights to land all within about two hours of one another and Allison had exactly zero desire to go back and forth from the airport so her driver was waiting out at a nearby cellphone lot to come and get them once everyone was there.

"Is it nice having a driver again?" Dan asks Allison.

"I sometimes miss driving around in my car but it's a lot easier to do my makeup with him driving." she says with a shrug as they continue to catch up. Renee is holding up the sign since Allison had complained that she had lost so much of the muscle she had previously had.

"Yeah, New York City seems like a major pain in the ass to drive in too." Dan agrees as her phone buzzes. She pulls out her phone and looks at it before a huge smile fills her face, one that means she's talking to Matt, "Oh! They just landed!" Dan says confirming Renee's suspicions.

Allison looks at her watch, "Wow, 20 minutes early. They must have gotten through boarding quickly." she comments.

"Or some good tailwind." Renee offers.

"When are Neil and Andrew due up?" Dan asks looking at Renee who smiles back at her friend.

"Andrew said they're going to take a break halfway here so they'll be here tomorrow morning." Renee says.

"Get it Neil." Allison nods and it had been a wonderful thing last year to watch Andrew and Allison make peace with one another. Their mutual desire to dress Neil up a bridge towards....maybe not friendship but camaraderie.

It warms Renee's heart to see her friends get along.

"The plane got tailwind, Neil's getting tail." Dan jokes.

"I'm looking forward to meeting the new kid that I've heard about." Renee says gently moving the topic on from their friends getting together. It didn't bother her at all, but she knew that Andrew would prefer no one talk about what he and Neil got up to.

"Oh! Yeah, uh..." Dan visibly buffers.

"Dan, you're the only one of us that's met the kid. His name's Smith." Allison says with eyebrows raised in judgement.

"Look, when Coach and I went to recruit the kid my brain was like 90% on the fact that I needed to go to my interview." Dan defends herself.

"So he wasn't that memorable for you?" Allison asks.

"Yeah, I'm surprised that he's getting along so well with the guys." Dan says. "Getting stabbed over Thanksgiving feels more like a Neil move than the quiet kid Coach and I met." she adds.

That had been an interesting phone call from Andrew. Renee hadn't even realized that she had become Natalie describing the best way to get rid of the body until Andrew had clarified that it'd been an accident and Smith was alive. Renee had been a little ashamed.

She was excited to meet the kid who Andrew had spoken to her about. Glad that their strange found family was growing just a little bit bigger.

They wait around continuing to talk about plans for the break together. Allison wants to go shopping and she wants to do it once Neil and Andrew are back. Dan wants to skate at the Rockefeller center. Renee would love it if they could do Christmas Eve Mass.

They're sure that Kevin is going to want to check out an Exy game. They're mostly sure that Matt will want to check out the LEGO store in downtown manhattan and that Aaron will be as excited for that as Matt is but pretending not to be. Nicky wants to catch a drag show and has made it clear that he will be going regardless of what anyone else wants to do. Andrew and Neil will probably just want to be alone when they have the chance though Neil had expressed some prior interest in the EXITES superstore and Andrew will more than likely enjoy the day Allison has planned to go shopping since she wants to update Neil's wardrobe.

The new kid, Smith, will be a mystery, but they're more than willing to be flexible.

Eventually they hear the tell-tale sign of most of the boy's arrival. "Babe!" comes from across the airport and Dan's head shoots up and spots the sight of Matt Boyd approaching his arms out wide almost clotheslining four different families on his way to Dan.

Dan is not much better as she rushes to him arms as wide.

They embrace like they always do whenever they have to spend time apart from one another and Renee knows that part of the reason that Dan took her job as assistant coach where she did is that the Washington State Congress Team had been looking at Matt the year prior to scout him.

She looks beyond the passionate reunion and sees Kevin, Aaron, and Nicky. She frowns brows furrowing...

Weren't they going to bring-

Nicky throws his arm out and it wraps around a kid she hadn't even realized was there. She blinks startled by his sudden appearance and blank expression as Nicky was pointing them out. He points to her and he can see her name on his lips she gives a wave and a smile.

Smith nods back in greeting.

He seems quite nice.

***

Renee is at the end of her proverbial rope.

This kid is a threat and she doesn't understand how she's the only person who can see it.

Being a threat isn't really an issue when you're a Fox. It's almost a given that there's some part of you that can be dangerous when backed into a corner but no one seems to be treating him like a threat.

She watches as Nicky and Matt throw their arms around him. As Kevin pushes smoothie after smoothie into his hands as he blankly sips. As Andrew and Neil sit with him quietly. As Dan pinches his cheeks. As Aaron ribs him for being bad at MarioKart.

She can't feel anything from him, no joy, no anger, nothing.

She can't even track him.

Renee has always prided herself on her ability to keep track of those around her. Spacial awareness was incredibly important when you're in a fight and it had always been one of her strongest points. She always knew where she was in relation to everyone else.

Except Smith.

The kid had given her no shortage of heart attacks as he appeared and disappeared seemingly at random.

She had finally gotten Andrew alone to ask, "Smith's quiet, non-intrusive." Andrew says with a shrug.

There's just something about him that makes the hair on the back of Renee's neck stand on edge and she hates feeling like she's the only one. She hates it even more that there's no real evidence that there's something amiss with this newest Fox.

So she settles in to watch.

They're out shopping and Allison is doing her best to get Neil a proper wardrobe with Andrew's considerable help, AKA nodding in approval when Neil comes out. She's not skimping on any of them but Neil is her main focus.

"Smith, what's a color you like?" Allison asks as she's looking at hoodies.

"I like purple." Smith answers and Renee barely manges to stop herself from flinching as his voice comes from right next to her.

"Pass." Andrew says as Neil comes out in a charmingly orange sweatshirt.

"I like it!" Neil argues.

"You have 10 sweatshirts that are that exact shade of orange." Andrew dismisses. "Try the blue one." he says pushing Neil back into the dressing room.

"Which one?" Neil asks.

Andrew sighs dramatically in a way that lets Renee know that he's doing exactly what he wants to be doing, "I'll show you." he says going into the dressing room with Neil.

"I still don't know how it took Baltimore for me to realize they were together." Nicky says as he's holding up two different purple sweatshirts to Smith's body. "You look good in a more purpley purple." Nicky says putting the more indigo colored sweatshirt back on the rack.

"Pants are coming up next, I'll get a lay of the land. I know everyone else's but Smith what's your height?" Allison asks.

"Five feet, nine inches." Smith answers as Nicky pushes him towards the dressing room. "Nicky it's a sweatshirt, I can put it on out here." Smith says.

"I know but I need an excuse to go back there and make sure Neil and Andrew aren't defiling a dressing room." Nicky says with a grin that implies he'd be more happy if they were.

"Gross." Aaron says as he takes a picture of himself to send to Katelyn to approve of the new outfit that Allison was pushing for him to get. "Wait," he pauses turning to where Allison was looking through various men's pants, "you know our heights? Like you've memorized them?" he asks.

"Yeah." Allison says looking at a pair of black slacks. "Everyone's measurements." she says nodding to herself.

"Even bust sizes?" he asks, voice not as quiet as he likely thinks it is.

"You're such a boy." Allison laughs not even looking up from the very different rack.

"How much longer are we going to be here?" Kevin asks with a sigh.

"Well, at least the time that it took you to ask that longer. We'll be done when we're done Kevin." Dan says long having given up on stopping Allison when the woman is on a spree.

"She knows that EXITES closes at 5 PM right?" Kevin asks.

"More importantly," Matt leans in, "that the LEGO store closes at 8 PM right?" Matt asks.

"How is that more important? The LEGO store is open later?" Kevin asks.

"Because we're not going to EXITES today, but we are going to the LEGO store." Matt says.

"If we don't spend the whole day here we can do both-"

"We're not going to EXITES today Kevin." Dan says with a sigh.

"But-"

"We're not going to EXITES today Kevin." Renee says with an apologetic smile.

"But-"

"Kevin, we're not going to EXITES today. Just sit down and let me find pants that'll make your pin-up days look tame in comparison." Allison says.

"That's not what those posters were!" Kevin argues with a blush on his face.

"Sure." Allison dismisses

***

Renee is quite happy with the sundresses she found even if they won't do her any good here in New York City during the Christmas break. Their next stop on their shopping day is over to the LEGO store where Matt makes no attempt to hide his enthusiasm as Aaron very valiantly does try to pretend like he's not utterly entranced by the sets and builds.

Renee thinks it's all very charming.

"We could have gone to EXITES." Kevin says with a frown as he looks at a build of an Exy racquet. "Can you take my picture with this?" he asks but he's not quite looking at Renee.

"Sure." Smith says from beside her, where he had apparently been.

"Thanks Smiths." Kevin says and stands next to the Exy racquet of LEGOs and crosses his arms and leans back.

"Kevin, stop posing like this will be for the cover of a Forbes Magazine." Andrew says with a sigh as he comes to stand on Renee's other side.

"Shut up, it's a picture for me!" Kevin says and continues to stand with his arms crossed.

"Oh, can you get a picture of me next Smith?" Neil asks coming up eyes shining in excitement as he looks at the racquet.

"Sure. As an apology for letting Nicky-"

"Don't talk about it." Neil and Andrew say at the same time.

Kevin gets his picture and then Andrew hands his phone to Smith for Neil's since Neil had broken the lens on his camera ages ago.

They wander around and Kevin finds a set to build the National Court that he grabs without a second thought. Neil and Andrew find a little LEGO man of Kevin that they buy as their 'preferred Kevin'. Kevin of course threatens to buy their LEGO figures once they have them and refer to them as his 'preferred Andrew and Neil'. A threat that neither of them comment on but Renee does buy the little Jean Moreau she finds. She'll paint it Trojan colors and send it over to him as a little gift.

As she continues to browse with her purchase in hand she hears Nicky, "Smithy, if you like it you should get it!" Nicky insists.

"Is it the price?" Allison asks.

"Yeah, I don't want to spend that much." Smith says with a nod expression still worryingly blank.

"When's your birthday? It can just be an early or a late present from me." Allison asks.

"March 1st, but really I'm fine not getting it." Smith shakes his head. "It's not that I'd like it just my little brother liked trains." he says and Renee watches Nicky's face turn from joyful teasing to intense determination.

"We're getting this set." Nicky says grabbing it and marching over to the counter even as Smith followed after him.

Interesting.

***

They finish off their day with some ice skating.

Matt, Aaron, Andrew, and Kevin all fall into the 'challenged' category.

They get on the ice and all four immediately fall. Renee stifles her laughter as Andrew and Aaron scowl. "Are you okay?" Smith asks and Renee almost loses her balance as he skates by her.

"Why the fuck are you good at skating?" Aaron asks scowling even as he takes Smith hand. Renee skates over and offers a hand to Kevin as Matt and Andrew are being helped up by their respective partners.

"Oh," Allison says skating by, "have you been up to Canada or something often?" she asks.

"I've been to Canada a few times. It's more that there was a rink I would go to every once in a while." Smith answers before turning back to Aaron, "I can help you keep balanced." he says offering his other hand.

"Smith, I don't want to hold your hand. That's kind of gay." Aaron huffs letting go of Smith's hand only to immediately beef it again when he tried to move forward.

***

Skating was fun even if Aaron kept blushing as Smith helped him skate since he never really got his 'ice legs'. The rest of them all more or less skated on their own by the end or, in the case of Andrew and Matt, seemed fine to keep skating while holding on.

Renee was warming herself by the fireplace in Allison's home enjoying some hot chocolate as Allison took a seat next to her. There was a lot of commotion in the kitchen as the team was working to make dinner together. Renee had excused herself after Smith had startled her while she had a knife in hand and she'd almost stabbed him on instinct.

She's just relieved that no one seemed to notice the near murder.

"You okay? You seemed tense in there." Allison asks.

Well, almost no one.

"Yes, I'm fine." she smiles and hopes that Allison will believe it.

Allison looks at her and Renee does have the benefit that Allison is slightly drunk since she was told firmly not to help with the cooking since she'd paid for the majority of the day.

"I'm glad I got you alone, there's something I want to hear your opinion on." Allison says deciding, apparently, to let it go for now.

Renee relaxes smiling at her friend, "What's that?" she asks wondering what purchase or thing unpurchased Allison was regretting.

Allison looks at Renee, expression utterly serious. "Don't you think there's something...weird about this kid?" she asks.

Renee straightens up glad that Allison had also felt like something was off with the kid that her friends had brought along. "What do you mean?" she asks wanting to hear what Allison thought.

"Look, he seems really nice. I mean a little too nice to be a Fox to be honest but I mean I guess you're a Fox as well so..." Allison rambles slightly taking another sip of her wine.

"Yes, go on." Renee nods.

"Yeah, he seems nice and Matt said he's got his own stuff even if he didn't wanna go into what that stuff was." Allison continues and it's a good thing Allison is drinking white wine considering the white carpet and her gesticulations. "But...it's just.. okay you can't make fun of me. Even though this is about to sound crazy." Allison says.

"I would never do something like that." Renee swears.

"Promise me." Allison says expression grave as she lifts up a pinky.

Renee smiles despite herself and hooks her pinky with Allison's, "I promise to not make fun of you." she swears other hand over her cross.

"I think he's Justin Bieber."

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

#Fluent Freshman AU #I would like to thank Emry #Since I was talking with them about commissioning a pic of Smith #I searched 'bland white guy' and Justin Bieber popped up #and it has been my head canon.... EVER SINCE #So now you all have to deal with the fact that Smith is almost identical to JB #He's got the hair #he's 5 foot 9 #Born 3/1 #Brown hair #brown eyes #Smith just completely lacks JB's stage presence / confidence / rizz and it mostly renders him very distinguishable #Nicky absolutely bought that train lego set for Smith #and is like 'this summer you and me are gonna fucking build this for your brother' #Andrew and Neil were also like 3 hours later than they said they were going to be #due to late check out reasons #Kevin may have looked for a Riko figure out of habit but didn't find one #Neil and Andrew may have also looked for a Riko figure but they wanted to burn it #different strokes for different folks i suppose #Renee got some nice paints to do her little project for Jean #She's heard from Jeremy that he's recovering from the meatball head injury quite nicely #Jean keeps saying to stop calling it that #Jeremy: “but you almost bled Bechemel all over the place.” #Jean: “For the love of god stop saying that. I was concussed from the meatball.”

[aftgandotherbooks]

headcannon that Matt and Neil have art sundays where they have a pile of built up art equipment where they listen to music and do art together to destress

it started when Neil had a major panic attack after practice one Wednesday afternoon and ran for 3 hours straight without realising and everyone threw a giant search party to try and find him

no one wanted to admit how much it reminded them of Baltimore

so while Neil was laying on his bed recovering from the panic attack and the loss of feeling in his legs, Matt entered the room (Andrew sitting on the window bench having not left Neil’s since he was found on the sidewalk halfway to Columbia that night)

“hey buddy, I know you need to rest but I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping this weekend with me? I need to get some stuff and thought you might be interested to come along” Matt had said.

turns out, Matt wanted to get some acrylic paints at a small arts and crafts store five minutes away from campus to add to his growing collection (hidden under their bunk bed after Seth once found a watercolour paint set next to Matt’s bed and didn’t stop laughing and going on about how ‘girly’ art was).

Neil was overwhelmingly confused at the range of knowledge and understanding Matt had about the millions of types of colours, what types of brushes to use, what in the flying f**k is a painting palette knife??.

Matt- “Hey bud, can you grab me a tube of burnt umber oil paint?”

Neil- ���A what amber?”

Matt- “ooooh I really want to try gauche, I heard it’s similar to watercolour but it’s so different”

Neil- “gu...ash? Gatch? Gwass?”

by the end of the shopping trip (two bags full of art supplies Matt insisted were for himself, but were really for his best buddy Neil and his fraying mental state) Neil was left with too many questions and a whole other perception of who he thought Matt was.

turns out, when Matt first got over his drug addiction, his mum sent him to weekly art classes for therapy and for Matt to use his hands in a way that is gentle and precise to counter the aggression he uses when learning to box. Matt stopped his weekly art sessions when he started university because he was too focused on not getting addicted to drugs again. 3 years later when seeing Neil starting to become overwhelmed with the lack of sleep from his nightmares, he thought that maybe art will help Neil as much as it helped Matt.

spoiler alert -> it did.

That Sunday when they got home, Matt dragged Neil to the small living room of the dorm Matt and Aaron now shared, placed a sheet of plastic on the floor (after throwing all the discarded clothes and shoes out of the way) and made Neil sit down beside it while he set a canvas on four small cups.

Matt explained acrylic pouring to Neil, showing him dozens of YouTube videos of tutorials and tips. They then mixed all the paints with the pouring medium. Matt made Neil choose the colours (Neil being the original one he is chose orange, black and a little brown like Andrew’s eyes, Matt added some gold to the final pouring cup as well for ✨aesthetic✨ purposes)

then the pouring begun. Matt’s insides slowly started coming apart while watching his always tense and alert best friend become absolutely transfixed on how the paint formed beautiful patterns and cells. It was like Neil’s anxiety was shut off for the hour they were making art.

Andrew also noticed how tranquil Neil had become compared to how he was just a few hours before when Neil went to their room that afternoon. He himself started to relax a little more knowing the one person who understood him more than anyone else had found something that can ease his anxiety in a healthy way.

Art Sunday’s became a regular part of Matt and Neil’s routine. As soon as the cousins, Neil and Kevin would come back from Columbia, Neil would head straight to Matt’s dorm where Matt would be waiting with a new art project set up.

Arts and crafts projects they’ve tried out:

-watercolour painting (Neil does not have the patience for the amount of layers needed, especially since he has a habit of never fully cleaning the brushes and his paintings always ending up a muddy brown colour)

-clay flower pot making (the first pot Neil made was in the shape of a fox, and it was actually really life-like. He gave it to Abby, who’s house may as well be a forest with the amount of house plants she owns Neil ends up loving clay pot making so much that he regularly makes flower pots for Abby who eventually starts giving some of them to Betsy since she does not have enough space left in her house)

-embroidery (Matt ended up having to call Abby for medical aide since his big burly hands got in the way and he accidentally stabbed himself with a needle when trying to make a cute rose design for Dan to hang in her dorm)

-Oil painting (Andrew refused to be anywhere close to Neil if he didn’t shower enough times to get the smell of turps out of his fingers because the idiot decided to ruin his hands by finger painting and using turps to soften some areas of the painting)

even after they were graduated, Matt and Neil still made time (an hour each Sunday) where they would video call and do fun arts and crafts which helped maintain their already strong friendship.

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #neil josten #tfc #andreil #matt.boyd.supremacy. #matt boyd #Matt x Neil #broship #best friends forever #art Sunday’s #headcannon #aftg headcanon #taans headcannons

[the-chicken-or-the-banana]

andreil and goodbye kisses (pt 3) ft. nicky

part 1, part 2 <3 ||| part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

contrary to popular belief, nicky is actually a relatively observant guy, especially when it comes to his cousins

andrew is a bit more closed off than aaron, but even before nicky found out about andrew and neil, he noticed that andrew was a bit... lighter. happier, almost

so it comes as no surprise that he would be the next one to catch neil and andrew

the cousins, kevin, and neil all head over to Columbia one weekend after a stressful few weeks at school

and it's nice. relaxing. minimal chaos occurs

(ok sure, nicky realized that he forgot about a Marketing project and maybe kevin kept muttering about a "PDA draft" of some sort and yes, aaron nearly flushed his anatomy flashcards down the toilet but that's beside the point)

the five of them had originally planned to come back to PSU on sunday morning so everyone could catch up on their work

but kevin and aaron had gotten weirdly competitive over dance dance revolution the previous night

so everyone was severely lacking in the sleep department

(there was a collective decision to forget about school and instead stay in bed until 1 pm)

nicky ends up waking up around noon though, feeling more rested than usual

and of course, being the oldest person there, nicky decides to check in on everyone, make sure all his "children" were doing okay

he peeps into aaron's room. he finds aaron half off the bed and goes in to quietly fix his cousin's blanket

he peeps into kevin's room. he finds kevin sleeping perfectly straight and wrinkles his nose at the sheer strangeness of sleeping like a literal rod

he peeps into andreil's room. he find them... not there?

now, for all of nicky's good qualities, it cannot be said that he's always the most rational person

so he races over to aaron's room, ready to break down the door screaming that his favorite couple has gone missing

just as he's about to fling open the bedroom door, he hears a quiet laugh coming from downstairs

he freezes

"right. there's another half to the house. i remembered that"

nicky quietly drops his hand and moves away from aaron's room, tiptoeing down the stairs

he moves around the house, unable to find the source of the laugh until he finally reaches the kitchen

there, he finds andrew sitting atop the counter, his legs wrapped around neil, their noses nearly touching

nicky can't see neil's face, but he does notice neil playing with his and andrew's hands, occasionally bringing them up to press a kiss to andrew's knuckles in the middle of conversation

andrew says something quietly to neil, causing him to laugh again and lean up to kiss andrew

(it does not escape nicky's notice that this is the first time andrew has been taller than neil, but really, the adorableness of his two stabby children takes greater precedence over that)

nicky wants to keep looking, wants the reassurance that his cousin is safe and happy and loved

but he also knows that andrew is a private person and nicky should respect his wishes

nicky trusts his cousin. really, he does. it's just— andrew has been through so much, and getting like 5 more seconds of confirmation that andrew's doing okay wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

the beeping of the coffee pot jerks nicky out from his thoughts

he decides to leave, that andreil will be going fine and strong even without his intervention

but in the few seconds it takes to make his decision, something so adorable happens that nicky's poor heart stops functioning for a moment

andrew pouts — pouts! — and tightens his grip on neil, not uncrossing his legs

neil rolls his eyes and brings his hands up to andrew’s face, caressing his cheeks

neil kisses andrew on the nose

andrew hums and begrudgingly lets go of neil

nicky is internally hyperventilating

he’s frozen to the spot as neil pours the coffee into mugs and brings them back to the counter

andrew takes his mug and promptly wraps his legs around neil’s waist again, burying a hand in neil’s hair

he runs a hand through it slowly, bringing it down until his hand is resting on the back of neil’s neck, their foreheads nearly touching

nicky suddenly turns away, feeling raw and surprised by the amount of intimacy he just saw

he lets out a breath. they’ll be okay. andrew’s going to be okay.

he goes back up to his room and lies in his bed, mind running a million miles an hour

after a few seconds of staring up at the ceiling, he turns over, burying his face in his pillow, and screams a muffled proclamation that andreil is the cutest ship to have ever sailed

(a few hours later when they’re on the road back to PSU, aaron turns and asks nicky why he heard screaming coming from his room. nicky shrugs.

“i was just really hoping that the titanic situation doesn’t occur again. wouldn’t want my favorite ship to sink, you know?”)

#it's nicky appreciation hours #also i feel aaron #i too wish to chuck my notes away #andreil #andreil hc #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #the foxes #palmetto state foxes #palmetto state university #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #kevin day #andreil bullet fic #andreil headcanon #:) #my headcanons

[simonsrosebud]

the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is, pt. 3

part one two four five

kevin has a talk with them the next morning before practice.  or more of just him storming into the lounge and going off.  the four freshman are there, too, but he doesn’t quite care.

“dalton isn’t fucked up like the rest of us!  there’s a reason i didn’t want any of you meeting or even knowing about him and it’s not because i hadn’t fucking come out yet.  he’s not a fox, and he’s not even thea.  he’s not involved with exy, he doesn’t know about riko and me and the moriyama’s and the rest!  there’s a lot of shit he doesn’t know about yet and none of you had the right throwing it all out in the air last night just to have a fucking laugh.  tell me, was it funny?  was it fucking funny getting him shitfaced just to get some answers and take the piss?!”

dan stands, and kevin holds a hand out.  she looks to andrew, but his silence sides him with kevin.  “kevin, we were just trying to-“

“you have no excuses, dan.  none of you do.  you were trying to make a fool of me and my boyfriend for nothing.  and now, i have to go cure his curiosity of the things you all said.”  and he storms out.

wymack doesn’t stop him.  if anything, he looks mad at those left.  “the fuck did you do to him to make him skip practice?!  you realize that’s never happened so long as he’s lived, right?!  we don’t have protocol for the day kevin skips exy.”

meanwhile, dalton doesn’t actually have that many questions.  the numbing of alcohol for a face tattoo is understandable, especially knowing that kevin’s sober and therefore must have had a problem.  the cracker dust he asks about just because he doesn’t know what it is- he doesn’t like it, but trusts kevin that he’s done with it.  he’s seen the scar along kevin’s hand, he already assumed it was from a surgery.  the edgar allen thing was too vague for him to be curious about, but he does ask- not about, the father comment, but if he’s okay about it.  kevin tells him this much;  that he transferred from edgar allen to palmetto because he’d known for a few years that wymack was his father, and that he didn’t have the courage to tell him until last year.

kevin thanks the gods that dalton doesn’t ask about or seem to remember any mention of the yakuza.

they’re at kevin’s suite because he knows they’ll have a few hours by themselves with everyone at the stadium, but only an hour in there’s knocking on the door.  dalton has his lips on kevin’s- he’d just said how he likes having access to his “real smile”.  “gonna get it?”  kevin shakes his head.  the knocking starts again.

“come on, kevin!  we’re sorry!  just open up for a second!”

kevin knows dalton likes when he speaks french, so he sighs and kisses him before whispering, “i hate them all.”

dan is at his door with matt and allison in tow.  “what do you want?”

“to apologize.”  kevin raises his eyebrows.  “look, we take the piss a lot and you never seemed to be visibly affected by it, so we didn’t realize that last night was upsetting you until you left.”

“you said never have i ever seen kevin have a meltdown.  why do you think you’ve seen that?  because i’m a toddler?  you know what i’ve had my reasons.”  riko.  the moriyamas.

“i know.  look, we don’t want to give you excuses.  i-i don’t have an explanation.  you’ve always kind of let us take the piss without saying anything, and we took it too far, especially last night.  andrew looked like he wanted to kill nicky for the yakuza comment, but neil talked to him about it before we went to the stadium this morning,” she whispers the last part because she’s not stupid, and kevin huffs.

matt jumps in.  “we wanna make it up to you, man.  you’ve obviously hid him from us for a reason and we proved you right.”  kevin honestly wants to get back to dalton and he wants it to just be over with.  “bring him to the winter banquet, we’ll be nice.  if anyone says anything i’ll punch em.  neil will chew em out.”

kevin grimaces.  the ravens will be at the banquet.  it’s in just over a month, the second week of december.  he’ll have to tell dalton some things by then.  and he might have to say something to the public.

he doesn’t tell him anything.  not yet, at least.  he still has three weeks until the banquet- he hasn’t even asked dalton yet.  he starts to like away games a little more than before, though.  he gets dalton a little postcard from every new state they go to.  he tapes them all to one of the walls of his room.

he’s on the phone with dalton at an airport general store, even, when he gets interrupted by two girls.  he puts on his press smile before he even notices.  “hold on, d.”

he doesn’t love fan interactions.

when they leave, dalton asks him with amusement if he’s got fans now, and kevin kind of decides he should probably tell him some more about his life because jesus, does he have fans.  he needs to tell him about he and riko.  what they were, what they were to fans of exy, what kevin was to fans of exy.  what kevin was to riko- without involving the yakuza.

but he doesn’t, because dalton never brings up the topic of “fans” again.

he doesn’t tell him until a week later, when he wakes up from a nightmare.

dalton’s leaning over him, speaking, but all kevin sees is riko riko riko.  it takes all of two seconds for dalton to back off.

“hey, hey, it’s me, it’s dalton.  you’re safe, you’re in my apartment.  no one else is here, i promise.”

kevin’s breathing so hard, dalton flicks the lamp on and he just crumbles.  he sits up and presses his hands over his eyes, “i’m sorry.”

“can i touch you?” he nods.  dalton’s sitting at his side, cross legged, and gently pulls kevin’s hands off his eyes.  “you don’t have to be sorry.  i know there’s shit in here,” he lightly lifts his hands to hold kevin’s face and taps his temple with a finger, “i don’t need to know what it is, just know you don’t have to apologize for it, and know you’re safe.”

kevin nods and twists to hug him.  and dalton wraps his arms securely around kevin’s back.  he presses a kiss to the top of his head and mumbles “c’mere” to prompt kevin into climbing into his lap.

dalton slides his fingers through kevin’s hair and it’s just so soothing, it nearly puts him to sleep.  and when dalton lays back down kevin stays wrapped around him with his cheek pressed to his chest.

when kevin wakes up it’s to find they’ve switched positions overnight.  dalton’s got his arm lazily draped over kevin’s waist, almost holding him close like a pillow.  his ankle is thrown over kevin’s, and his head is pressed into the back of kevin’s neck.

kevin doesn’t want to move.  in fact, he stays so still so as to not wake dalton, that when he stirs kevin just shushes him and pulls dalton’s arm back around him.  he holds his hand close to his chest.

dalton’s not stupid.  he knows kevin’s awake and nuzzles himself closer.  “you like being cuddled.”

“you’re the one doing it, not me.”  but he definitely tilts further into the pillow to expose his neck when dalton starts kissing up the side.

“you like being the little spoon.”  and pushes himself up over kevin.  “you like when you’re on the bottom, kev.” he kisses him deep into the mattress despite morning breath, and noses down his neck.  “i like it.”

kevin tugs at dalton’s hair.  “and what… what about it?”

ahaha.  aha.  sex.

anyway.

he tells dalton everything afterwards.  he leaves out the yakuza part, and the fact of neil’s past, because that’s another monster.  but he tells him the rest.  who his mother is and why he’s such a big deal in the exy world;  why he really left edgar allen and came to the foxes;  the tattoo that’s buried under his chess piece and what it meant.  what his relationship with riko was really like, and everything about their past and the abuse he endured.

and he fills him in on what triggers him because of that: small pitch black rooms, confined spaces without an easy way out, holding his hand too tight, the mention of riko moriyama, a lot of other things.

and dalton stays. 

so kevin asks him to the banquet.  when he says yes, he asks wymack for help arranging an interview.  there are enough people and press lingering outside the exy banquets, and he’d like to hold his boyfriend’s hand on the way in this year.

it’s scheduled to be live the morning before the banquet.  it’s with sophie silletti for espn college exy, and she posts about it as soon as it’s booked.

kevin sits with her.  it’s nothing like kathy ferdinand.  they talk strictly about exy and eventually, with his pre-approved questions, she brings up thea’s team’s most recent game.  “and forgive me if i’m wrong, but you and thea muldani split recently, yes?”

kevin nods.  “back in may, i’d say.  we’re still friendly, i have the utmost respect towards her.  in the end it just didn’t work out.”  i haven’t talked to her in months.

sophie nods.  “everything happens for a reason, i’d like to think.”

“of course.  it wouldn’t have led me elsewhere.”

“is that hinting at something?  i feel we don’t normally talk about this, but does kevin day have someone new in his love life?”  

kevin palms are sweating.  he hopes his face isn’t red with nerves.  “i do, actually.  i won’t say anything about him for his own privacy” i don’t want the public’s prying eyes “but we’ve been together for a bit, now.”

sophie is grinning, she feigns surprise.  “i heard you say him, did i not?  anything else to tell us?”

he keeps his smile easy, but he can feel the worry in the back of his head telling himself they can see right through it.  “if you’re asking, then sure.  i’m a bisexual man, so yes, my partner is also a man.  this is the first time i’ve ever announced it to the public, actually.”  as if that wasn’t the whole point of today.

“at least your fangirls can keep their hopes up, then, yeah?  still got a 50/50 shot!  and i’ve got to say, i feel honored you trusted me and my show with a milestone like this.  coming out certainly is a big deal, or at least nerve wracking!  how do you feel?” she laughs.  “is it like a weight lifted from your shoulders?”

“i was never too stressed about it.”  lies.  “some will hate, sure, but my job is the game.  if my fans are true then this won’t change that.  speaking of,” and then it’s back to exy.

wymack drives them back to palmetto, and when they’re close enough he says, “i’m proud of you for doing that.”

“thanks.”

“where am i dropping you off?”

kevin knows andrew and neil probably watched the interview, and he doesn’t feel like dealing with whatever they’ve got to say about it.  so wymack drops him at dalton’s who hugs him as soon as he opens the door.

“you watched?”

“of course.”  he kisses his cheek.

all posts/updates relating to this au can be found in the “OC: dalton miller” tag!

extra content

#kevin day #bisexual kevin day #kevin #day #exy #aftg #tfc #OC: dalton miller #dalton miller #kevin day x dalton miller #original character #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #matt boyd #dan wilds #allison reynolds #renee walker #david wymack #abby winfield #the foxhole court #the foxes #Palmetto State #palmetto state university #Palmetto State Foxes #the one where someone doesn't know who kevin day is

[honestlyzenoouh]

So Hold Me Close

This came to me after i read this post, and my brain went “no, you do it because you have small legs and can’t keep up with your bf” and thus this was born.

Now also on AO3

*****

Neil is a little bewildered. He is not at all complaining about this new development in his relationship with Andrew, just a little confused. Andrew has gotten a little, how do you say it delicately; clingy, after they won the championship. The other foxes hasn’t commented on it yet, but they might not have noticed it. Neil has though. By god has Neil noticed it. Luckily, he doesn’t feel smothered by the clinginess, but it seems like he can’t be more than a couple feet away from Andrew now, before his eyebrow furrowed the smallest amount together. And if enough time passes with neither of them moving closer, Andrew shifts the slightest bit towards which ever direction Neil is in. 

Okay, the couple of feet is a bit of an overstatement, when in reality it’s 8 feet and 2 inches. Neil knows, he tested it. Kevin was looking on in severe judgement that day, what with Neil moving half an inch away from Andrew, who was sat gaming with Nicky, waiting a few seconds before glancing at his face to see his reaction. The pinch came at 8 feet even, and the shift came at the infamous 8 feet and two inches. 

And again, it’s not as if Neil is complaining. It’s always nice to be able to look around, and be able to immediately spot him. Safe even. But that is not what has gotten Neil confused, oh no, the closeness is just on observation. What Neil is having a hard time wrapping his head around is the fact that Andrew has gotten handsy.

But it’s not even the normal handsy he sees from other couple’s PDA. No, there is no hands on his hips, he isn’t casually touching his ass like Matt sometimes does to Dan, nor is he absentmindedly petting his hair like Allison did to Seth. No, he just. Wants to hold his hand. Or his arm. Or on bad days, his sweater sleeve. And Neil doesn’t get it. He doesn’t mind it, really he doesn’t! Andrew always asks first, or just straight up offers his hands to Neil, and Neil somehow always find himself saying yes and taking his hand, even though he doesn’t get his newfound clinginess. 

Neil would just have just put it down as a weird form of affection from Andrew. With both of their shitty childhood, general emotional constipation and mistrust of most physical touch, handholding was an acceptable first type of affection. That is, if it wasn’t for the pattern he noticed 3 weeks after the first incident of handholding.

Andrew doesn’t seem to need to hold his hand when they are staying somewhere. Like if they are in the locker room or in any of the foxes room, the 8 feet and 2 inches seems to be enough for Andrew’s clinginess. But whenever they are going somewhere, it literally doesn’t matter where, Andrew hand shoots out after 15 seconds of walking, and he only lets go when they have reached their destination. Sometimes that is. He has started to linger a little, and by now the other foxes has undoubtedly noticed. They still haven’t said anything, though it looks like Allison really wants to sometimes. And it’s not like she can corner Neil alone to get some answers that way, what with the 8 feet two inches.  

It is two weeks after the pattern revelation that Neil finally finds the courage to ask Andrew about it. Just because he doesn’t get it, doesn’t mean he dislikes holding hands with Andrew. He’s actually come to really like it, and what if Andrew stops if he points it out? But he needs answers now, and if Nicky’s few comments on the matter only resulted in scowls and grunts, Neil feels a bit reassured. So they are sitting on the roof, sharing a single cigarette between them, and looking out over the campus. Neil steels himself, gathers his last bit of bravery and opens his mouth. “Andrew?”

Andrew shifts his head towards Neil, indicating he’s listening, and Neil starts to play with his own fingers. A couple more seconds go by, and Neil thinks he has formulated his question harmlessly.

“Why can’t you be more than 8 feet and 2 inches away from me?” Andrew inhales his next lungful of smoke a bit to suddenly, and freezes for maybe two seconds before he exhales. “Riko.” Is all he answers. Neil mulls over his answer for a bit, but can’t find an explanation within it. “What?” he prompts confused.

Andrew exhales again, and Neil could see his arm flexing from the corner of his eyes. Whatever Andrew was about to say, wasn’t something he was happy having to share, but technically, it was his turn in their truths game, and it seemed Andrew knew that as well. 

“I was 8 feet and 2 inches away from you when Riko swung.” Now it was Neils turn to freeze. That admission floored Neil, not having excepted such a thought-out answer. Gearing up answer, or maybe getting Andrew to elaborate, he got cut off, because apparently Andrew wasn’t finished yet. He took yet another breath and continued, “Evermore I was not present for, and Binghamton I had you out of my sight for 5 seconds to check on Nicky and you were gone. But with 8 feet and 2 inches I could get to you.” It was quiet for what felt like hours afterwards, with Neil processing and Andrew quietly chain smoking. 

“Oh” Was Neil’s answer maybe 4 cigarettes later. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but he also wanted to acknowledged Andrews vulnerability. Andrew shrugged, and Neil finally looked over at him and saw how tense he was. Not really knowing how to make the situation better with words, Neil slowly reached his left hand towards the blond boy, offering the same kind of comfort Andrew has had lately.

Andrew looked from his hand, and up to his face so Neil offered him a small smile and wiggled his fingers a small bit. Andrew huffed at him, but took his hand and intertwined their fingers. With his hand in his, Neil remembered his initial question and kinda blurted it out,

“But what’s with the handholding then? I get the distance, I’m kind of a trouble magnet, but why hold my hand? That doesn’t seem necessary.” Andrew huffed out his version of a self deprecating laugh. “You are fast, and have longer legs than me.”

“So what? The handholding is just you making sure we are walking in the same tempo, and you don’t lose me in a crowd?” 

“Maybe not so stupid after all” At this point that is just flat out slander against Neil Josten.

*****

I have no clue how to end this, so I give you this! There you go, hope you like it. This is my first completed and posted fic

#Andreil #Andriel #all for the gay #all for the game #aftg #Neil Josten #Andrew Minyard #oneshot #is this angsty? if you squint i guess #my writing #Zenoouh writes

[willowbird]

prompt: aaron had a slight ED that he developed as a kid and is now being noticeable to the rest of the foxes even andrew and nicky kinda knew he forgot to eat but the stress from school and exy makes it worse....

I could easily expand on this and maybe one day I will. It hits kinda close to home tho so I’m going to err on the side of brevity just for my own mental space. Thank you so much for the ask! I hope this is what you’re looking for ❤️ ❤️ Take care of yourselves!

Warnings for depression, eating disorder. 

Edit: this has been expanded and can also be found on my ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Ao3

-----

Wednesday | 6:04am

The alarm was screaming. 

Its cries crashed against his senses like sea-storm waves and Aaron was without shelter. The sound had been crowding him for four minutes now, and he still couldn't lift a hand to make it stop -- even though he was perfectly aware and wide awake. He wanted to stop the sound, he needed the quiet back, but for whatever reason his hand just wouldn't listen to his brain no matter how many times he willed it to move. 

Aaron hated days like this.

Wednesday | 8:43am

Nicky slung his arm around Aaron’s shoulders, a grin plastered on his face. His hair was slicked back like a low-budget greaser, halfway between wet and just damp. They’d just finished morning practice and he, Nicky, and Kevin were waiting out in the player’s lobby for Neil and Andrew to finish showering and changing so they could leave.

“Aw man, I am hungry. Please tell me that Andrew and Neil are gonna finish up soon so that we can go get a real breakfast.” Nicky's whining was easy enough to ignore most of the time, but today Aaron was tired and his patience was thin. He had three tests to study for, two essays to write, they had a game coming up on Friday, and Aaron didn't have the bandwidth for Nicky, too.

He shruged his cousin off with a snort. "I'm just gonna hitch a ride to the library." There were still a few hours before his first class of the day, and he needed to use that time for something productive.

"Aww, c'mon Aaron come to breakfast with us! We'll drop you at the library when we're done. It won't take too long!"

"What won't take too long?" When Aaron looked over, he saw Neil and Andrew coming out of the locker room, clean and changed.

"Breakfast!" Nicky announced. "Neil, tell Aaron to join us! It's a family breakfast -- he should be there!"

"You can't just label things "family" events as a way to require people to be there," Kevin said with a long-suffering sigh. Even so, Aaron noticed he already had the menu of their usual breakfast joint pulled up on his phone. The pictures of pancakes topped with glistening syrup and fluffy omelets made his stomach clench in an unpleasant way.

Aaron looked away.

"I've got a shit to do," he said. That would be his final word on it, and to demonstrate, Aaron turned to head toward the doors.

Except Andrew had moved to block him, though Aaron hadn't registered when his twin had circled them. Aaron frowned, lifting his chin in challenge.

Andrew just studied him for a long moment before looking just past Aaron, gaze darting over his shoulder to the others behind him. He lifted a hand and a second later a slim object snapped into it. When Andrew then held it out to him, Aaron saw it was a granola bar.

A quick glance over his shoulder exposed the granola bar thrower as Kevin, who was zipping his backpack shut. They matched gazes briefly and Kevin nodded toward the granola bar in Andrew's hand.

"If you aren't going to come to breakfast with us make sure you get something on your way to the library."

Aaron glared at him, then rolled his eyes and turned back to his brother. Andrew just looked at him, expression blank, and continued to hold out the damn granola bar like he could stand there all day without a care in the world.

A flash of resentment boiled through him. Of course Andrew could stand there so fucking unbothered. Barely anything affected him at all.

With an annoyed huff, Aaron snatched the bar out of Andrew's hand and shoved it into his pocket before stalking out of the building.

Wednesday | 1:15pm

Katelyn ❤️ (13:15): Hey baby! Prof Dixon bailed again ~ you free?

Aa. Min. (13:15): McCallister's?

Katelyn ❤️ (13:16): See u in 5! 😘

Wednesday | 1:23pm

Aaron stood inside the confused cacophony that was McCallister's, an on-campus restaurant that was the love child of a deli and a pub but four times too big, regretting his choices.

It wasn't even the noise that was bothering him the most. It was the smell.

Aaron took two steps into the restaurant and his stomach roiled. It twisted and tightened, curling in on itself in disgust at the sharp, slimy stench of cold cut deli meat cushioned on a waft of double-baked potatoes that filled the restaurant like wildfire's haze. He and Katelyn met here for lunch two or three times a week when their schedules lined up. They both liked the food and they had several corner booths where they could hide in and study together after eating. It was one of their favorite places. But right now, Aaron was fighting not to gag. 

“Aaron!” Relief warred with dread at the sound of Katelyn’s voice and he hastily plastered on an imitation of the smile he usually didn’t even have to think about, that always rose to his lips whenever she was around all on its own. It didn’t today, but for Katelyn he could make the effort. For Katelyn, Aaron could do anything. 

He turned around once that smile was fixed in place and wrapped his arms around her when she joined him, indulging in a quick kiss that soothed some of the nausea churning in his gut. When they broke apart, Aaron turned to lead them toward their usual booth but Katelyn stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Babe is everything alright?” Worry painted a crease between her eyebrows, her mouth drawn down as she studied him. 

Most days, Katelyn’s concern warmed him. It made him feel seen and loved and cherished. Today it put a slash of anxiety through his lungs, breath seeping out through the cut and concaving his chest under the weight of her scrutiny. 

Aaron arranged his smile into something tired and unalarmed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a long week, y’know?”

Katelyn hummed like she wasn’t sure she believed him but was deciding to trust him anyway, then she smiled and she released his arm only to take his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Alright, then let’s get some lunch and shut out the rest of the world for at least a little bit, yeah?”

The smell of the restaurant was still choking him and even his skin felt tight. The absolute last thing he wanted to do right now was stay there another second, let alone the hour he had until he needed to think about heading to his next class.

“I’m so sorry Kate, I’ve got to meet with the TA for my history class. I remembered right after I texted you but I still wanted to see you so I figured I’d just tell you when you got here.” He offered an apologetic smile and did his best to ignore the way guilt was now mixing uncomfortably well with the sick already sloshing around in his stomach. Aaron did not like lying to Katelyn, it felt wrong. But he also couldn’t... he couldn’t explain what was wrong with him right now -- not because he didn’t know, but because he was sure explaining it was going to make him sound crazy and that was just the last thing he needed right now. It was better to slip away, go somewhere he could focus on homework or something and just... wait for it to pass.

Katelyn’s expression fell, flashing disappointment, then a sad understanding as she nodded. “Of course. It’s okay babe, really. I’m just glad I got to see you at all.” She smiled then -- that bright, warm, just-for-him smile that always had Aaron’s heart skipping. A small knot of tension loosened in his lower chest, just enough that he was able to take a small breath and offer a more genuine smile of his own in return. 

“I love you,” he told her. 

“I love you too, Aaron. Take care of yourself and I’ll see you later, okay?”

He made no promises before he made his escape, just a smile and a wave.

Wednesday | 3:37pm

The granola bar tasted like ash in his mouth. It felt like there were iron weights attached to his jaw, making it impossible for him to chew. A fist of repulsion locked around his throat, and it was a physical struggle to swallow. 

This was the worst part about days like this.

Aaron knew he had to eat something, because he knew what could happen if he didn’t and the only thing worse than having to put up with feeling this way, dragging himself through the mud of his own psychosis one step, one mile, at a time -- was doing it with everyone watching him struggle. 

So he forced himself through half the granola bar. He knew better than to push for more than that, or all his efforts would be wasted into the nearest trash can.

Wednesday | 7:51pm

Practice had been brutal. It had been so bad that even Nicky hadn’t been able to cheer himself through it and was just as bitter and on edge as the rest of them by the time they hit the showers. 

Aaron sat in the lobby and waited for the others, feeling old. He felt tired. He just wanted these stupid pissing contests to stop and everyone to shut up. He wanted the world to be completely silent, completely empty. Emptiness sounded nice. Sounded peaceful. Sounded right.

The sharp scuff of shoe-rubber against tile had him cringing so hard his shoulders ached and he peeled his eyes open to glare at the source. Andrew stood there, hands in his pockets, blank-faced and too knowing.

Aaron snorted and looked away. 

The couch shifted slightly as Andrew took the spot next to him. There was the soft shk of a blade cutting into something crisp and when Aaron looked over, Andrew was holding out a small sliver of apple. His brother wasn’t looking at him. Instead, the other Minyard was dispassionately staring at the tv, which was playing some sports channel that Aaron knew very well Andrew didn’t give a single shit about. 

For a long moment Aaron just stared at the side of his twin’s face, but it was impossible to know what, if anything, he was thinking about. Finally, he looked at the sliver of apple. It was pale, small, unobtrusive. Aaron’s stomach clenched, a mix between hunger and repulsion. All he’d had today was that half a granola bar -- which had been both too much and not enough. His throat tightened as he stared at that innocuous slice of fruit, but he was almost focused more on the hand holding it. His eyes burned and he looked away, but not before taking the slice. 

#aftg #aftg fanfic #tw: depression #tw: eating disorder #tw: ed #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #twinyards #of course i made it a twinyard drabble #because i'm a sucker for the boys supporting each other #going into a small headcanon in the tags here #i hc andrew struggles with food #similar to what aaron goes through here #but more intense #because he has a very complex relationship with food #based on his past #and then the manifestation of his depression does not help #i actually have a wip based on this #from andrew's pov #where we see him dealing with his ed #and the way the monsters support him through it #sometimes his ed crops up due to his depression #and sometimes its separate #anyway #this was an unnecessary a/n in the tags here #but that's why andrew took the approach he did in the drabble #because how he treats aaron in this is how he needs to be handled when he has his own episodes

[itsstickball]

I saw your prompt post so can u pls give us the father son Wymack and Andrew dynamic we deserve thank you hallelujah

Okay so I know you probably were expecting sth at a younger stage of life (and tbh, I might still write that, bc it’s good shit), but we’re four weeks into 20quarantine and I miss hockey. And you know what they do in hockey? Dad’s Trips.

          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Andrew’s watching some Netflix series about the drama between a bunch of exotic animal owners, alone in the dark of his apartment with an entire tub of ice cream resting on the pillow in his lap when the call comes through. He’s more invested in the ice cream than the drama, which came out the year prior. In fact, he’d avoided the show until now on the principle of annoying his family and was only watchin it now because he was tired of having to decode the references Neil made any time he posted a picture of Sir.  

He doesn’t bother to pause it or move to another room when he hits the “answer” icon on his phone.

“It’s a little late to be getting the mail, isn’t it?” He asked in lieu of a greeting. There was really only one reason for Wymack to be calling him.

“If anything, it’s early. This is yesterday’s mail.” Wymack grunted. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

Andrew looked at the clock, and realized that yeah...that tracked. The red numbers blinked back 3:39am at him and he remembered Neil mentioning that the Foxes had a road game this week. Once he did the math, it was actually a little surprising Wymack hadn’t called an hour earlier.

“You called me.” He reminded the coach rather than comment on the rest of it.

There was a sigh from the other end of the line. “I had a hunch.” Wymack retorted. It was more like he had five years to put up with Andrew’s bullshit and Andrew four years of putting up with Neil and Kevin’s. Night practices made more than one lasting impact, it seemed.

“So you got it.” Andrew prompted, not asked. 

Wymack sighed again and there was the faint sound of shuffling papers.

“Yeah. I don’t have a fucking clue why, though.” 

“It’s pretty self explanatory.” Andrew retorted. “Assuming you can still read.”

“Reading is the only thing I need the glasses for, thank you very fucking much.” 

Andrew would be lying if he said the corner of his mouth didn’t twitch up at Wymack’s easy irritability. But this was his apartment and there was no one there to misunderstand it anyway.

“So what’s the problem?” He asked, taking a bite of ice cream while waiting for Wymack to fill the silence with his trepidations.

“Are you sure you want -”

“I gave them the address.” Andrew cut him off, letting Wymack fill in the space between his words. They both knew that he didn’t do or mean things halfway. Without an address, there wouldn’t have been an invitation at all - just like there hadn’t been the previous two years.

More silence, this time less interesting now that Andrew knew what useless emotions were hiding on the other side.

“Do you have any other plans?” He didn’t. Andrew had checked. Wymack’s grunt confirmed what he already knew. “Then let Wilds take over yelling at the delinquents for a weekend.”

“Okay, but Andrew -.”

“The dinner on friday is black tie. Try not to embarrass yourself.” He reminded his former coach and then promptly hung up before Wymack could so much as shout in indignation. 

Onscreen, a man with a truly horrendous mullet cussed out one of his rival gamekeepers.

         - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Once a year, like many professional Exy Teams, the Spokane Sundogs hosted a special weekend trip for their players and their families - or, more specifically, their fathers. Andrew had scorned the idea of it when brought up by his last two teams - and not just because he had no biological guardian to invite.

This year, however, as the team gathered outside the arena, nearly ready to depart, he stood with mild anticipation. 

They were only waiting for one more addition before they boarded, with most of the players and their dad’s already conversing or posing for the team’s PR photographer. Andrew was standing slightly apart from the group, a quirk which thankfully they’d all come to accept about him. This time though, it was with more intention than just preserving his personal space.

“Ah!, finally.” The team’s defensive coach, Elliot Martin said, stepping over to show Andrew the text reading out that their last guest had arrived.

“Took him long enough.” Andrew grunted in reply, thankful that the coach didn’t press or make more noise about the issue. Martin was one of the few people intuitive enough to recognize the difference between Andrew’s silences and attention span. He also didn’t crowd any closer now that their exchange was over.

Just a few minutes later, Wymack’s form strode through the exterior door.

In truth, it was just a chance that his travel plans put him as the last arrival. Andrew felt no ill will or disgruntlement towards the coach for it, but he was undecided on how he felt about the matter as a whole. On the one hand, all of his teammates were currently distracted interacting with each other, but their attention would all be called together now that everyone was here. He doubted any of them expected to see someone standing next to him, and wasn’t looking forward to their speculation.

“Wymack.” He greeted, his voice characteristically monotone.

“Minyard.” The coach nodded and returned it in kind - although Andrew noted he sounded rather tired. That didn’t bode particularly well for someone he was going to have to travel with, but at least they wouldn’t be flying. Wymack didn’t try to step closer than necessary or make any physical greetings with him, which he was grateful for. 

Then, however, it was time to go and his position among the coaching staff - complete with his guest was made obvious. A round of quick murmurs went up from the small crowd, which Andrew ignored in favor of staring at their head coach as he gave their schedule. An assistant handed out paper forms of the itinerary and then they were being ushered onto the bus.

“Your teammates seem nice.” Wymack said, apropos of literally nothing, after they’d handed their luggage off to the equipment team.

Andrew grunted.

“Regret inviting me already?” Wymack tried again, this time with a bit of dry humor in his voice.

Andrew turned to look at him, a tiny spark in his eye. “Not at all.” Wymack’s eyebrows furrowed, so he elaborated. “This way, they can pester you with their questions instead of me.”

He pat Wymack once on the shoulder before disappearing into the bus. When he’d found his seat at the very back and chanced a glance out the window, he found Wymack swamped by other players and their dads just a few feet from the steps. He seemed to be handling the attention alright, but Andrew recognized the slight tension in his movements. It was as close to a deer in headlights as Wymack got.

“I hate you.” He said a few minutes later when the coaches got serious about everyone boarding the bus.

Andrew glanced over at where the older man was slumped into the seat next to him. His grin was feral and sharp. “See, you fit right into the family. You’ve already learned our main vocabulary.”

Wymack scowled at him, but there was no real heat to it. And if Andrew’s smile softened and quirked higher on one side, even as he pressed his lips together and turned to look outside - well, there was only one person alive who would call him on it and he was hundreds of miles away.

         - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Forty hours later and they’re in the hotel room, getting ready for the fancy team dinner. Andrew was long resigned to having to share rooms with potentially obnoxious teammates for away games, so the change of pace that comes from sharing with Wymack is welcome. Living with him - even for just a few days, even in a cramped room - is familiar. Andrew spent too many nights quarantined with the man in college for it not to be.

There was no threat to anyone’s safety or sanity - aside from the fallout typically associated with overly friendly teammates, but they knew each other’s quirks. Andrew didn’t comment when Wymack woke up at 5:30 to brew an entire carafe of coffee - despite not having any engagements until 9:00. And Wymack didn’t question why he spent nearly the entirety of their afternoon free/rest time sitting on the desk by the window with a pint of ice cream just staring out at the cityscape below.

Andrew didn’t have to hedge or explain why he needed to shower first when it came time to get ready for the dinner. In fact, they skipped the discussion altogether. Both men simply glanced at the clock after the shitty made-for TV movie they’d been watching rolled to credits and Wymack said. “Let me know when you’re done.”

It was that simple.

Being away from the Foxes, from his family for so long, Andrew actually sat there stunned for a moment before Wymack turned back to look at him, prompting a grunt in reply. Seemingly satisfied, his former coach turned back to whatever he was doing with the charcoal suit he’d hung up in their shared closet space. Andrew allowed himself one more second of stillness before getting up and angrily grabbing his own pants and undershirt and locking himself in the bathroom

Behind him, he heard Wymack let out an amused huff, but no comment.

By the time he finished and they swapped rooms, the frustration of his startling realization had left Andrew. He still waited for Wymack to click the bathroom lock in place behind him before he moved to finish dressing and comb his hair into something acceptable. But then he had nearly half an hour to sit on the bed and think before his teammates and their fathers would fill up the fuzzy parts of his brain. 

He could use the time to analyse how he got to that point - how Wymack had gotten to that point. Andrew enjoyed living on his own, but it clearly wasn’t just Neil's company at PSU that had left a lasting mark on him. Thirty minutes was plenty of time to catalogue each of the things he’d gotten used to in college that he’d lost again as he moved from team to team each year in the pros…

 He flipped on the TV instead.

Wymack opened the door fifteen minutes later to Andrew staring blankly at an infomercial.

“I didn’t take Neil as the type to wear pearls.” He poked, looking bemused from Andrew to the man and woman on stage who were trying to make outdated jewelry seem like the newest fad. 

Andrew slid his gaze sideways, eyes focusing in on the older man. Unlike Andrew, he’d exited the bathroom in only his boxers - which, Andrew was secretly bemused to find, were covered in tiny orange fox paws. He didn’t stay that way for long, of course, turning to retrieve his actual clothes from the closet.

“He likes to feel classy.” He shot back, deadpan and several seconds too late to be anything more than a deflection.

Wymack snorted, and for a moment, Andrew thought he’d let it drop. To Andrew’s downfall, unfortunately, he had the capacity to both dress himself and prod at the blonde’s psyche at the same time. 

Andrew would have to ask Bee to stop spending so much time with him and Abby. It was ruining his “above my paygrade” modus operandi.

“You know I’m shit at this kind of stuff.” He started and Andrew resigned himself to the fact that they were, evidently, going above the paygrade. “But you’re allowed to enjoy nice things.”

Andrew held back his urge to scoff. “Nice things” had never factored into his life unless he was being accused of breaking them. It would be easy to deliberately misconstrue Wymack’s gruff sincerity, to make this about the pearls, pretty but ultimately meaningless objects. He knew, however, that this wasn’t the type of “nice” the older man was talking about. 

How many times had he told Neil that Foxes didn’t get to have nice things? That they came from nothing and so would always have nothing? It turned out, though, that there were a lot of nice things that also came from nothing. Renee’s smiles and unwavering - even if often annoying - encouragement. Kevin’s refusal to let him give up on life, even in the face of his own fear. Neil’s never-ending respect for his boundaries. 

Half an hour of sick sobriety in exchange for a few stopped goals. A bottle of Jack in exchange for a whole game. 

Wymack’s second, third, fourth chances.

He met Wymack’s gaze. “I know.”

Because as intolerably cheesy as Coach’s whole “as many chances as it takes” philosophy sounded, Andrew would either be dead or rotting in a jail cell without it. He would have thrown himself to the wolves in order to keep his family safe, and it would have destroyed him. But Coach gave him the back-up he’d gone his entire childhood without. He only took what Andrew was willing to give, held him accountable, and called him on his bullshit, but never tried to fix him. 

In a world of people preoccupied with making everyone around them perfect, Wymack said “what you are is good enough.”

Andrew didn’t know if he’d ever be able to bring himself to say thank you, but he could show it. He’d thought it funny to spring Wymack on his teammates and vice-versa, sure. But he’d invited him because he fit the bill.

Andrew might not ever say it, but maybe he could show his gratitude, one hectic weekend at a time. 

Wymack seemed to understand.

“Alright.” He said, nodding once, then twice more firmly. “Now how many times can I expect Richard Decker to ask me about fishing?”

Andrew snorted. “Based on his son? It will be the only thing he talks about all dinner.”

Wymack shook his head and gave a little laugh before pocketing his wallet and keycard and gesturing toward the door.

“Well, let’s not keep the man’s sturgeon dreams waiting, then.” He said, earning a dubious expression from the blonde.

He didn’t deign to honor the joking comment with a response, but as they headed towards the elevator, Andrew thought he might have one more nice thing to add to the list.

#aftg #andrew minyard #david wymack #also known as dadmack #dad's trip #ask answered #this is unedited - bc why edit when you could post immediately and then regret your grammatical choices later? #pro exy #professional exy! andrew

[kittehkats]

11 Writers Who Really Loved Cats

                         BY Sean Hutchinson

They say that a dog is a man's best friend, but these writers found solace—and occasional inspiration—in another four-legged companion. Celebrate International Cat Day with these feline-loving scribes.

1. MARK TWAIN

Mark Twain—the great humorist and man of American letters—was also a great cat lover. When his beloved black cat Bambino went missing, Twain took out an advertisement in the New York American offering a $5 reward to return the missing cat to his house at 21 Fifth Avenue in New York City. It described Bambino as “Large and intensely black; thick, velvety fur; has a faint fringe of white hair across his chest; not easy to find in ordinary light.”

2. T.S. ELIOT

Aside from peppering his high Modernist poetry with allusions to feline friends, T.S. Eliot wrote a book of light verse called Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, a collection of 15 poems, dedicated to his godchildren, regarding the different personalities and eccentricities of cats. Names like Old Deuteronomy, the Rum Tum Tugger, and Mr. Mistoffelees should be familiar to people all around the world—the characters and poems were the inspiration for Andrew Lloyd Webber’s long-running Broadway musical, Cats. Later publications of Old Possum's included illustrations by noted artist Edward Gorey—yet another avid cat lover. You can listen to Eliot read "The Naming of Cats" here.

3. ERNEST HEMINGWAY  

Ernest Hemingway and his family initially became infatuated with cats while living at Finca Vigía, their house in Cuba. During the writer's travels, he was gifted a six-toed (or polydactyl) cat he named Snowball. Hemingway liked the little guy so much that in 1931, when he moved into his now-famous Key West home, he let Snowball run wild, creating a small colony of felines that populated the grounds. Today, some 40 to 50 six-toed descendants of Snowball are still allowed to roam around the house. Polydactyl felines are sometimes called “Hemingway Cats.”

4. WILLIAM S. BURROUGHS

William S. Burroughs is known for his wild, drug-induced writings, but he had a softer side as well—especially when it came to his cats. He penned an autobiographical novella, The Cat Inside, about the cats he owned throughout his life, and the final journal entry Burroughs wrote before he died referred to the pure love he had for his four pets:

“Only thing can resolve conflict is love, like I felt for Fletch and Ruski, Spooner, and Calico. Pure love. What I feel for my cats present and past. Love? What is it? Most natural painkiller what there is. LOVE.”

5. WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Though not overt, William Yeats’s love for cats can be found in poems like “The Cat and the Moon,” where he uses the image of a cat to represent himself and the image of the moon to represent his muse Maude Gonne, a high society-born feminist and sometime actress who inspired the poet throughout his life. The poem references Gonne’s cat named Minnaloushe, who sits and stares at the changing moon. Yeats metaphorically transforms himself into the cat longing for his love that is indifferent to him, and the heartsick feline poet wonders whether Gonne will ever change her mind. Too bad for Yeats; Maude Gonne never agreed to marry him, despite the fact that he asked for her hand in marriage—four separate times.

6. SAMUEL JOHNSON   

CARL COURT, AFP/Getty Images

Known to be a general cat lover during his life, this 18th century jack-of-all-trades was immortalized in James Boswell’s proto-biography The Life of Samuel Johnson. In the text, Boswell writes of Johnson’s cat, Hodge, saying, “I never shall forget the indulgence with which he treated Hodge, his cat: for whom he himself used to go out and buy oysters, lest the servants having that trouble should take a dislike to the poor creature. I am, unluckily, one of those who have an antipathy to a cat, so that I am uneasy when in the room with one; and I own, I frequently suffered a good deal from the presence of this same Hodge.” Although Boswell was not a fan, Johnson called Hodge “A very fine cat indeed.” Hodge is immortalized, with his oysters, with a statue of his likeness that stands outside Johnson’s house at 17 Gough Square in London.

7. CHARLES DICKENS

One of most important and influential writers in history, Charles Dickens once said, “What greater gift than the love of a cat?” He would sit entranced for hours while writing, but when his furry friends needed some attention, they were notorious for extinguishing the flame on his desk candle. In 1862, he was so upset after the death of his favorite cat, Bob, that he had the feline’s paw stuffed and mounted to an ivory letter opener. He had the opener engraved saying, “C.D., In memory of Bob, 1862” so he could have a constant reminder of his old friend. The letter opener is now on display at the Berg Collection of English and American Literature at the New York Public Library.

8. NEIL GAIMAN

The author of American Gods and The Sandman kept regular updates on his blog of the everyday eccentricities of the group of cats—including Hermione, Pod, Zoe, Princess, and Coconut—that he kept at his house. Though he hasn’t written much about them recently, the love and affection that come across in the posts from 2010 and earlier show someone who is absolutely an animal lover in all respects.

9. PATRICIA HIGHSMITH   

Patricia Highsmith doesn’t have the friendliest literary reputation around (she once said “my imagination functions much better when I don't have to speak to people”). But The Talented Mr. Ripley and Strangers on a Train author nevertheless found a perfect way to let her imagination function with her many four-legged companions. She did virtually everything with her cats—she wrote next to them, she ate next to them, and she even slept next to them. She kept them by her side throughout her life until her death at her home in Locarno, Switzerland in 1995.

10. WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

Imagist poet William Carlos Williams also worked as a doctor to supplement his writing career, which would eventually culminate in a 1949 National Book Award for Poetry and a posthumously awarded 1963 Pulitzer Prize. His direct style tried to capture the essence of small moments in everyday life, and it’s no wonder he uses a cat to conjure a simple scene in his poem entitled “Poem (As the Cat)”:

As the cat climbed over the top of

the jamcloset first the right forefoot

carefully then the hind stepped down

into the pit of the empty flower pot

11. RAYMOND CHANDLER

Raymond Chandler had an immense influence on detective fiction and came to define the tenets of hard-boiled noir. He used femme fatales, twisting plots, and whip-cracking wordplay in his evocative classics starring the detective Philip Marlowe, including The Big Sleep and The Long Goodbye. But it wasn’t all serious business for Chandler because—you guessed it—he really loved cats. His cat Taki gave him endless enjoyment, but also occasionally got on his nerves. Here’s a passage from a letter Chandler wrote to a friend about Taki:

“Our cat is growing positively tyrannical. If she finds herself alone anywhere she emits blood curdling yells until somebody comes running. She sleeps on a table in the service porch and now demands to be lifted up and down from it. She gets warm milk about eight o'clock at night and starts yelling for it about 7.30.”

This post originally ran in 2013 BY Sean Hutchinson

mentalfloss.com/article/49302/11-writers-who-really-loved-cats

[mydearsaddiary]

Little curiosity notes: Hey guys! We’re on chapter 9 now! If everything goes according to plan the story will end in the next chapter! I might do an additional short epilogue after, but the plan is only to continue until chapter 10! Thank you so much for reading until here and as always: Feel free to reach out!

Thank you!

Candy (08/20/2020)

Neil Chapter 9 part 1- First, do no harm

1933

-Cliff- I said as I walked from the back room of the diner I helped to manage now- you’re running low on soda, you know!

-Geez- He said, finishing up cleaning a table and running towards me- I’m awful with this inventory stuff ya know, MC. Mind seeing everything we’re missing?

I smiled, gently hitting him on the head with the papers I was holding- Glad to help.

-Neil coming in today? Just got his new bourbon stash this morning!

-Im sure he’ll pop by later when the nanny is home. How’s everything going with you?

-It’s fine, me and Jane just moved in together- He crossed his arms , blushing a little and giving me that big smile of his.

-So you finally settled down. Next thing you know you’ll have little Conways running around the place

-Maybe in a few years- He turned around when somebody called his name- Alright, duty calls. Have fun in there!

-I always have- I waved at him and returned the back room to count our stock, manage prices, and do basically everything I did at the Ice Box. I enjoyed doing the same job alongside the same people without having the risk. Our past evolved into a better future than most of what the other mob bosses had.

Suddenly, I heard the lock click. My initial shock soon turned into dark memories I wanted to forget. Impulsively I tried open the door only to find out I was actually locked in

-Hey...! Hey!- I knocked on the door- Hey, let me out! Somebody locked me in- I wasn’t scared of enclosed places. It was the sound of the lock clicking and the inability to open it from the inside that haunted me.

I hated being locked in.

-MC- The door opened after a few knocks. Vince was there- Sorry, just came in and thought somebody left it open

-It’s alright-My cheeks were colored red, but besides that I kept my posture- I’ll just do the inventory outside

1926

I opened my eyes, waking up from my sleep. I could feel no sign of light besides the faint, artificial one. I sighed heavily realizing nothing had changed. In my new found experience, not being in the sun for three weeks messes with you head. It makes you tired and empty. A crippling force tells you to accept your fate to remain there.

I sat up, only to find Vera already awake on the mattress besides mine- Did you check the day today?- I asked

-Yeah. The holidays are approaching fast. How are you?

I rubbed my stomach which now had started to show more. Vera had asked the mayor, in one of the times he came in, for new clothes. She had some in the bedroom they used to share. It was refreshing to say the least and her clothes, that were slightly bigger on me, helped me hide my condition from him. It was a light and loose salmon colored shirt that went down until my hip, and a beige skirt that went to my calf, along with white stockings. It was nothing I’d normally wear, but I wasn’t in the position to be picky.

-I feel fine- I said- I don’t feel too sick anymore. I haven’t gotten any movements yet

-How far along are you?

-Hm... I went to the doctor last month... Must be around 13 or 14 weeks.

-It’s still early. Mine didn’t move until about 17 weeks

I looked at her, genuinely surprised- You have kids?

-Oh yes, Frank and I have our children. They’re all grown and moved on to different parts of the country. My oldest one is a little older than you.

-What’s her name?

-His, actually. His name is Robert. He’s 21 now, he got a job out west and comes back to visit when he can.

-Who are the others?

-Oh, May is 18. She’s with her aunt in Florida. I sent her when things got too complicated here. She wouldn’t listen to us.

I chuckled- I know how she feels.

-Then there’s Matt. He’s 16.

-What’s going on with Matt?

-He’s in New York as an apprentice to his grandfather. My ex-husband’s dad. He wants to teach him how to run the business he owns

-Seems like they’ve got it all figured out

-Yes. Well, I know the feeling of having your first kid. I was but a bit older than you are right now. Although- She pointed to her surroundings- I had a more adequate stay

I laughed, but there was no humor in my voice- Adler’s gonna bring our city down under his total power if we don’t do something

-You don’t think your men are trying to save you or figure it out?

-Trying is the key word. Vince...-I sighed, with a heavy heart- Well, Adler shot him... He must be dead right now. That means Cliff and Uncle Charlie must be a mess. On top of it, for my uncle, there’s the fact that I disappeared. That also messes with Neil who, I can’t even imagine what he must be feeling but it’s nothing good. Then Donovan isn’t close enough with them to put everybody’s head together. Julius, Cleo, Sofia and Andrew... Im sure they’re trying to help but...- I sighed- I’m the head of the Ice Box. Im the queen on the chess board. They need me- I said as I realized it myself- I can’t spend any more time waiting for something to happen or counting days.

-You already tried everything, remember?

-Not everything- I got up, exercising my need to move my legs- You know Adler’s schedule better than anyone. When is he out for a long time?

-He’s always at the office from noon to six on weekdays.

-Then thats our time to escape. We’ll wait an hour just to be sure, then leave.

-Yes, but you’re leaving out the important part— How are we gonna leave?

-Last night, before I went to bed, I was looking around your things to see if I could find something useful

-You went through my stuff?!-She said visibly irritated

-If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have found this- I opened my hand to show her the few bobby pins I had in my possession

-How is pinning your hair up helping us?

-Oh Vera, dig a little deeper. It’s for opening the door. I can pick it!

-With those? I think you might be a little too optimistic

-Thankfully- I said cheering up- I had plenty of training sneaking back in my house, and hiding from Momma and Poppa. I have yet to meet a lock that could stop me.

She looked at me for a few seconds and sighed- Alright, I’ll bite. One in the afternoon then.

-Thats right!-I hid it once I heard the door open. They were bringing breakfast down.

____

We heard Adler leave. We heard everything until there was nothing else to hear. The anticipation was so overwhelming that when Vera’s little clock hit twelve-thirty, we were on out way up the stairs.

I got two bobby pins and started to work on unlocking the door. In a few minutes, it clicked and it opened right up to the now dark living room

-You know- She whispered- For the three weeks you were here, you could’ve tried that sooner.

-I didn’t know you had these!- I whispered too, but in an angrier tone- And you’re welcome!

I pushed the door out slowly, as if someone would head. The dark immensity of the house spread before my eyes. Without a single soul there it seemed peaceful, but in a way that unsettled you, like something was waiting to jump out from the dark. The negativity soon disappeared as I got lost in my thoughts for a second and walked over to the big window, letting the sun hit my face. The warmth of the natural light, warmed up my heart along with it. The joy of finally breaking free made me forget for an instant I had to walk out the front door.

-Miss Granger, let’s go!-Vera hurried me up

-Yeah, right- I walked up to the front of the house. By the door there was a table. I noticed keys on top of it- This is for his Ford, isn’t it?- I grabbed them-Nifty! We just got out escape vehicle

-I can’t drive- She looked at me uncertain

-Well, I’ve been learning- I replied opening the door- Now, let’s scram

___

I had to go through two Fords to find the one the keys belonged too, within myself we could taste the flavor of freedom.

Opening the door, I made my way in. It was then everything was ruined by a single shot that went right through the window on my side. When I looked back, Adler stood a few yards away with a gun aimed in my direction, along with his two goons.

-Go, Vera! Inside!-I yelled at the top of my lungs closing my door and turning on the car. I stepped on the gas and went as fast as the car would allow me to.

Soon, down the streets of Chicago we went. The bright sun and the streets filled with people would normally be cause for celebration, but my currently situation prevented me from enjoying it. I heard more shots coming our way and noticed that Adler was following us in his own car

To make everything better, Vera was freaking out in the passenger seat

-Woaaaaaaaaah, be careeeful! Waaaait, you’re going tooooo faaaaast!

-Vera!- I yelled back, driving and swerving as much as my experience would allow- If I don’t drive fast he’s gonna catch up to us—Ah!- I yelped when another shot came right in between us, making a hole in the windshield

-You’re gonna kills uuuus!-Her voice got louder and more annoying- I’m not ready to die!- She continued, letting out her “Oh!”s And “Oh my god!”s And her loud screams that were worse than the shots for me. At this point, I tried my best to ignore them since our lives depended on it

She yelled even louder when his car bumped into our rear and sent our bodies forward. I heard continuous shots that shattered our windows and I couldn’t go any faster. I had to think of something quickly, but all the stimulation from the outside made the task harder.

That’s when I saw it and hope ushered back into me. The little red convertible from the corner of my eyes, driving right ahead of us. Vince drove with ease on the wheel, while, surprisingly, our most experienced shooter, Donovan, fired back in the mayor’s direction from the passenger seat.

Seeing them, I let out a relieved little laugh. Fear was substituted with the urge to go faster, so I gained some distance on them. On the other side the trusty green Studebaker had Cliff, Uncle Charlie and Julius in it. Cliff drove, Uncle tried to steal glances my way, and Julius had a pistol, and helped Donovan by firing back. Sometimes Vince would keep one hand on the wheel and use pearl to fire as well. What I thought was going to be hell quickly turned into an exhilarating thrill.

And then, time slowed down as a third car showed up. The darker colored vehicle that belong not just to any man, but to the man I had longed to see all this time— Neil Dresner. I recognized the car but I couldn’t see him since he drove ahead of me. It might seem silly, but the importance of that moment couldn’t be just understood, it had to be felt. The whole world brightened up again just to know he was near. I knew then I wasn’t alone, and I never would be again.

And then everything came back to me in a second, when Vera’s shouting became deafening and another shot came right by us

-We’re going to die! Jesus!- She kept having her panic attacks

-MC!-I heard a voice from Vince in his car- To the docks! Go to the docks!

I nodded, better now that I had a direction in mind,so I sped up towards my new destination.

The city passed by us in a blur, I didn’t allow myself to focus on anything else but getting there. I’m sure everyone else had a plan and in my mind I started formulating the beginning of my own.

I turned into the road that led to the docks and swerving the car faster than it could handle, I stopped abruptly, hitting a few of the many giant boxes piled around, ready to be transported. The side of the car caved in, but we came out unscathed in the front

-What are you thinking?! We could have died! We could hav-

-Vera!- I yelled, looking at her, panting. The adrenaline hadn’t left my body and I knew it wouldn’t for a long time- you’re a chatter-mag bitch- I said in an unusual calm tone, still trying to catch my breath

-Excuse me?-She gave me that look she usually did when she disapproved of something

I was going to reply, but then I heard a car and shots again- Go Vera! Out of the car!- I pushed her out her way and pulled her to hide behind the boxes laid out nearby.

I heard more tires and assumed my gang had arrived to rescue us. I smiled realizing I was right when I saw Vince throwing me my trusty revolver- Let’s take car of em, boss.

-Don’t call me that- I grabbed it, feeling an immense power I hadn’t felt in a long time. I pointed it to my target, my enemies, those who sided with Adler...

...And fired.

Part 2: https://mydearsaddiary.tumblr.com/post/627009903803990016/speakeasy-tonight-fanfic-neil-season-3-chapter-10

#voltage usa #speakeasy tonight #voltage amemix #voltage inc #voltage #voltage games #lovestruck #lovestruck voltage #neil dresner #vince moretti

[shutupandshipit]

Magic in the Blood - Ch.3

Summary: “You used magic on me,” Neil said, mildly accusing. He opened his eyes, staring into the glowing honey gold of Andrew’s eyes.

“Don’t I always?”

Instead of answering, Neil asked, “Yes or no?” because his hands were aching to run along Andrew’s skin, up his toned thighs, to tug him down over him. …..

Or where everything is the same, but magic exists. The school year is over, there’s no more practices until mid-summer and for the first time, Neil can spend his time the way he wants. Without suppressants muddling his system and Andrew sober, they’ve got magical and logistical issues to work through.

And then there’s the new Foxes when they show which is a whole other magical nightmare of itself.

Pairing: Andreil

Rating: T

Previous <- Chapter 2

Chapter 4 -> Next

Chapter 3: Taconic State Park, New York Part 1

Neil:

“Where are we going?” Andrew asked, reaching for the radio and adjusting the volume so Neil wouldn't have to shout over the music.

Neil and Andrew hadn't made any plans before they'd left Fox Tower that afternoon, leaving Kevin, Nicky and Aaron to their empty rooms waiting to be picked up by Abby. The Upperclassmen had been smart enough to book it out of the dorms as soon as they had the chance, and they'd followed their leads. They left without saying anything to the others, simply throwing their belongings into the Maserati and leaving. They didn't need to be back for another two weeks when Aaron's trial started, and Andrew's protection was no longer needed with Riko dead.

Even now, hours later, Neil's phone was still vibrating insistently with Nicky's texts. 'Where did you guys go?' 'Where are you going?' 'You can't ignore me forever'. 'Whatever. Have fun, nerds <3'. 'Don't do anything I wouldn't do :P'.

Reaching into the door side pocket, he finally turned off his phone. He'd talk to Nicky later. Maybe.

“We're going camping,” Neil said simply, rummaging through the glove compartment for the map of the East Coast and brochure he'd picked up. He'd made the decision when they'd stopped just after the house in Columbia, talking to the woman at the register and then Matt about places in New York. He turned the brochure towards Andrew.

Andrew glanced at the picture and quickly away, changing lanes before looking back. “Where is that and why there?”

“New York. Matt's mom wanted to meet us, so this is going to be two birds with one stone.” He shoved the map and brochure back in the glove compartment. “Don't make that face. Matt all but begged me. This will be a road trip. The place is called Taconic State Park. It looks cool, and there's not going to be a lot of people there so we'll be able to let our magic do what it needs to. Also, it says there's a waterfall. Matt pretty much made it a requirement for us to go.”

“And when did you start listening to what Matt says?” Andrew asked, schooling his face from the mild look of disgust back to his usual blankness. “You don't know how to lay low, do you? This is exactly how you got caught last time.”

“I got caught because some murderous psychopath outed me,” Neil corrected, rolling his eyes.

Andrew cut him a sidelong look. “No, you got caught because you decided to mouth off to a murderous psychopath and make him look incompetent multiple times who then decided to out you.”

“I would never,” he said, mock seriously.

“I have video evidence.”

“Lies.”

Banter with Andrew was easy, the easiest part about being with Andrew if he were to be honest. Unlike when they were intimate and they're magics intertwined as if fighting, they tangled and settled between them in a comfortable jumble instead. When they bantered, they didn't need to worry about how their magic was interacting, if their magical union would become toxic or burn out in their emotions or knock out a cell tower.

“I wouldn't lie to you.” There was a lilt of mirth to Andrew's voice, but underneath, there was also the tang of seriousness.

Sobering, Neil smiled over at him and held out his hand. “I know that.”

Glancing over, Andrew took Neil's hand without comment, threading their fingers together as lightning sparked between their palms.

Neil was unreasonably happy as he tried to school his expression. “We're going to have to stop for water and food.”

“Oh, so you weren't planning on hunting and scavenging for food? What's the point of camping then? Do you have any of this planned out at all?”

“Some of it that I've figured out since the gas station.” Neil shrugged. “Mostly, I'm hoping for us to get lost and dies out in the woods. It'd make what's left of my father's syndicate happy.”

“They'll have to try harder than that if they think I'll let you die by accident.”

Andrew:

Before knowing where they were going anywhere in particular, the first stop the pair had made had been at the house in Columbia. Perhaps due to some feral instinct, Neil had spent the time collecting blankets and other useful items for life on the run, shoving them into the trunk without much thought.

Andrew left him to his hording, disappearing into the how to collect the few pre-made sachets he had and jars of honey and animal blood he had in his closet. He'd shoved them into a small bag he had, packing sweaters and shirts around the fragile glass. They'd met back down at the car, climbing in without discussion.

They stopped again nearly eight hours later at a twenty-four hour all sale store and bought a small tent, sleeping bags, chairs and enough non-perishables and water to last them several days. When they climbed back into the car, Neil behind the wheel, it was nearly midnight.

They'd been up for more than eighteen hours, and they sat in exhausted silence for several long moments. The want to finally get to where they were going and the need for sleep hung unspoken between them.

“I'm tired,” Neil finally admitted, “And even if we get there, I don't think the registration office will be open.”

Andrew hummed, but didn't say anything, his eyes itchy with fatigue. While the silent need to finish the drive sat heavy in his chest, he also knew there was no need to continue on. They were on summer break. There was no reason to rush anywhere.

Of course, there were spells they could cast to combat exhaustion and caffeine just a drive-thru away, but neither of them had the energy or ingredients for a spell, and caffeine did strange things to their magic when they were so tired. Caffeine made their magic unreliable and uncooperative, made it more like to explode at inopportune times.

“Hotel,” Andrew decided.

“Thank god,” Neil whispered.

They found a cheap motel ten minutes up the road, and fell into the queen sized bed as soon as the door was locked and bolted behind them. Neil toed off his shoes while face down in a pillow, groaning all the while, before curling into the smallest ball possible against Andrew's back. He pressed his forehead to the space between Andrew's shoulder blades and fell asleep. Within a moment, his breath had evened out and his magic filtered through the air.

Andrew lay there for longer, listening to Neil's breathing. Rain began to patter softly against the roof. His magic reacted to Neil's sleep accordingly, snaking out gently from his body to wrap protectively around Neil and cocooning them in a bubble of protection. The sachet in his pocket warmed, adding strength to the walls he so easily built.

He slipped into sleep with the warmth of his own magic and the sounds of Neil and his rain surrounding him.

…..

Andrew woke in the early morning to Neil rolling away from him and pushing into the bathroom. He turned onto his back to stare at the ceiling and listen to Neil puke his guts out. The shower roared to life before Andrew followed him into the bathroom.

“You can come in,” Neil said as the door opened, “I didn't mean to wake you up.”

Closing and locking the door behind him, Andrew pulled off his clothes one piece at a time. He hesitated with his briefs before slipping them off. Normally, he wouldn't get naked even with Neil, but it was early in the morning and he could feel the lag in Neil's magic. He was craving skin to skin contact, and he had to wonder if Nicky was behind that. It wouldn't be the first time he'd cast on Andrew, on accident and just to see if it would work if he did, but it would be the first time Andrew hadn't felt the spell hit.

“Magic in the area?” he asked even though he knew that wasn't the answer, stepping under the spray where Neil stood with his head bowed.

Neil's breath came quickly, and he swallowed harshly. His voice was thick as if he were trying not to vomit again as he said, “Someone tried to cast on me. Tasted like tracking. God, I feel nauseous.”

Andrew's protection magic had at least done its job, but he thought they'd managed this part of someone casting on Neil. His spells must have been fading. “Yes or no?” he asked, sliding his fingers together to prep his magic.

“I don't want you to take this. It feels... wrong. Different than usual.”

Andrew stood a hair's breadth away, waiting as Neil leaned forward with a hand on the wall and wretched. “They're probably using someone stronger or a different spell.”

Bile splattered against the tub floor. Neil nearly whined as he said, “They're trying again. Where did they get so much of my hair?”

“Probably Fox Tower. Or the court. They might be using your blood.”

He heaved again. “Fuck 'em.”

“Neil-”

“Yes. It's a yes.”

Andrew pressed his parted lips to the back of Neil's bowed neck, licking at the knob at the top of his spin and biting down. Acrid smoke filled his mouth as he inhaled Neil's tainted magic, and exhaled clean magic back into him. Without the help of his conduits and herbs, the process took longer than normal, hurt more, tasted worse. While he worked, he drew invisible sigils across Neil's back, pressing them into his skin with just the warmth of his palm before moving on.

When he finally pulled back, a bruise was forming on the back of Neil's neck in the arc of his teeth and the vaguest impressions of his sigils lightened Neil's skin. “This is temporary. I need to refresh your spells.” His mouth tasted like ash, and he spit at the floor several times.

Neil turned to face him, looking tired and rung out. His magic barely flickered in the air around him, grey and dull. “I can take care of myself. You don't-”

“I'm going to anyway,” Andrew cut in before he could finish his sentence. The last time he'd fully revoked his protective spells on Neil, he'd gotten kidnapped almost immediately by his father's people and come back looking like someone had used him as an ashtray. He wasn't about to let that happen again.

“I'd kiss you if I hadn't just puked.”

“Brush your teeth while I get my bag, and we'll talk about it.” Andrew shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and heading to get his bag.

Neil followed more slowly after him, towels wrapped tightly around his waist and shoulders, to rummage through his bag. He stood at the sink, scrubbing roughly at his teeth and tongue.

Andrew watched him closely from the bathroom as he sat on the edge of the bath and set out his supplies. He pulled out the small mortar and pestle that Nicky had jokingly gifted him after learning who his deities were, but he used it more than he liked to admit. He used it quite often actually.

Small, but heavy, the set was carved from black stone intermixed with glaringly white fossils. The inside was stained rust brown from constant use, and he only considered it for a moment before tapping in dried mint, rosemary, sunflower and salt. Over the herbs, he poured a small splatter of the blood that had been enchanted to remain fresh before grinding it all together into a fine paste.

He'd been told over and over throughout the years that he practiced his magic wrong, but the first thing he'd learned once Higgins had found him was that his magic was highly subject to his own thoughts and whims. For him, it helped to include as object that was close to him and something that reminded him of the subject of his magic.

When Higgins still mattered -because he had at one point no matter how Andrew felt about him now- he'd taught Andrew that magic was personal, that there was no right or wrong way to do it. Where Exy was structure and rigid, witchcraft was loose and up for interpretation. Due to his lack of control though, Higgins had suggest a deity to follow, Apollo to be exact.

Andrew had scoffed. What use would he have had for a god that wasn't there to help anyway? What use did he have for magic that didn't work anyway? The only person he could rely on was himself, and he wasn't going to put his time and energy towards an absent god.

Only once he was in Juvie and had met Aaron with all his bruises and down turned eyes that he considered the possibility. Deities, whether that be God from a magicless religion or a God(dess) from a pagan religion, were supposed to focus the worshiper's magic and make it easier to manipulate into the needed shape. A deity wasn't a requirement for practicing, but Andrew had needed to focus if he was going to help his brother.

Andrew studied under Apollo for months before realizing he was in dire need of feminine energy in his craft.

Sekhmet found him sitting on the curb outside a convenience store in the form of a black cat with piecing golden eyes and an emerald collar. The cat had rubbed her head along his arm and back before taking a seat next to him. She's dropped a piece of paper in his lap, looking please. The paper had been from a textbook, an image of Sekhmet staring up at him.

Mistress of Dread.

Lady of Slaughter.

He'd looked over at the cat, scratching behind her ear. “Thanks.”

With a blink, she'd gotten up and disappeared over the hood of a car.

“Andrew?”

Blinking back to himself, Andrew scooted over and said, “Sit. Back to me.”

Neil sat as he was instructed, dropping the top towel and shivering as the cool air pressed against his skin. Overhead, there was the weak patter of rain beginning again, softer than earlier that night.

“Sit still,” Andrew warned before dipping his fingers into the blood mixture. He retraced the sigils he'd already written. Track blocker. Hex dispeller. Barrier. The blood glowed gently after her pressed each sigil into Neil's skin.

Neil trembled. “You're warm.”

“Good. Turn. Now the front.” Andrew placed a general protection sigil in each of Neil's four corners to ask the elements for their protection, and over his heart, he drew his oldest sigil. The first sigil he'd written that worked.

When he pressed his hand over the blood, electricity jumped between their skin. Neil gasped quietly. “What was that one?”

“Just something extra.” He was still mildly skeptical about the gods, but he'd silently talked to Apollo and Sekhmet while he'd been drawing. The burst of energy between their bodies told Andrew that someone had heard.

Andrew ran his fingers down the bridge of Neil's nose, smirking as he scrunched it up. When he prompted Neil, he dipped his clean fingers in the blood mixture to do the same to Andrew.

Standing, Andrew said simply, “Shower.”

Neil climbed into the shower, and Andrew followed behind him, leaving his tools to clean up later. He dragged Neil into a kiss as the water burst back to life.

Neil:

The shower lasted longer than either of them probably meant it to, turning from washing the blood from their skin to moans and gasps, hands in hair and lips on necks. The water ran cold before they clambered back out, Neil feeling like himself again and Andrew's magic jumping from his skin in energetic spurts compared to the person. It was nearly eight when they check out of their room.

“Off to the campsite then?” Neil asked, sliding into the driver's seat and turning over the engine in one easy motion. He grabbed the map from the glove compartment as Andrew smoked outside the car door, but instead of opening it, he licked his thumb and pressed it to the front where his fingerprint remained and glowed. “At least we won't get lost now.”

“You'll find a way,” Andrew hummed, stubbing out his cigarette and sliding into the passenger seat. “Do you still feel the spell?”

Neil shook his head, twisting around in his seat to back out of the spot. “No. All I can feel is this sigil.” Turning forward, he pressed his fingers over his heart.

He didn't see Andrew look over at him, but he smiled when he growled, “Stop making that face.”

“I'm not making a face.”

“You are, and I hate it.”

Neil pursed his lips. “You know, every time you say you hate something about me, it makes me think that you actually like it.”

“Bold faced lie.”

“You said you wouldn't lie to me.”

Andrew shrugged. “I wasn't the one who said it.”

Neil hummed along with the frequency of his own magic. “Do you want coffee before we leave town?”

“I want a chocolate croissant and java chip frappuccino,” Andrew said.

“You had those yesterday.”

“And?”

Neil started laughing.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #Andreil #my writing #magic user au #witch au #my idiots holding each other up

[exyjunkies]

hi i’m very wine-drunk (but apparently still able to type this well) so have a headcanon about andreil going bar-hopping

obviously it is kevin who suggests to them both that they should go to a bar other than eden’s twilight

neil didn’t really care much for it, but andrew decided to take the bait, and went, “Okay, which bars did you have in mind?”

and then kevin did end up taking them to a series of bars in columbia

he also gets lost somewhere between bar #3 and #4, and after neil slightly panicking because it just had to be kevin day that got lost among the three of them, andrew assured him that he’ll be fine

this got confirmed later on when they see a tweet on nicky’s account saying that kevin happened to be in the same nightclub he was in, along with a picture of a passed out kevin and a frowning aaron

andrew shrugged, and said, “Might as well go to the next bar.”

so they moved on to bar #4, with no specific agenda, just a desire to have fun

or, in kevin’s words, “To do something different for once.”

and, yeah, okay, they do end up doing a lot of wild shit

but what separated their experience from the normal oh-we-got-drunk-and-did-stuff experience was how a lot of this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t andrew and neil

i’m drunk so this might not be super creative but. here’s some of the things i envision them doing

two burly guys in bar #4 looked like they were going to beat each other up. andrew got in between the two of them, and neil thought he was going to stop the conflict. or be beat up by one of them. a few minutes later, neil barely registered andrew ducking as burly guy #1 went to punch burly guy #2

just outside bar #7 is a tattoo parlor, and they both walk in to get matching tattoos. as they’re walking out, they both think they got matching tattoos - their jersey numbers, andrew’s on his wrist and neil’s on his arm - but instead, they had tramp stamps. neil’s is a flower, andrew’s is a bee. none of them are able to find out until the day after

in bar #10, a girl tried to hit on neil, but then ran away after neil truthfully revealed everything about his childhood

bar #12 was occupied with a bachelorette party, and the main celebrant just happened to be an Exy fan. so neil and andrew spent a whole hour just... watching a bachelorette party unfold

a few gangsters tried going up against them in bar #13. but instead of actually beating them up, they both get invited to a cruise sometime next week. neil ended up calling wymack and asking him if they could go

inside bar #13 was a kickass sound system, and a drunk neil meant a very-agreeable-to-a-danceoff neil. andrew has it all recorded. y’know, for accountability

andrew gets into an arm-wrestling match with some guy in bar #15. and then after the first guy, there came the next guy, just because they all heard it was the andrew minyard that was there. the entire bar ended up watching, and there was enough people that the exits were blocked. so neil had to sit through andrew showing up six or seven guys. andrew won everything, of course

on the way to the next bar, andrew and neil both get kidnapped by some guys. it was a thankful accident that they got kidnapped together. during a stoplight, neil broke out of the bonds tying his hands together, and put one of his hands around the guy driving them, enough to almost suffocate. neil got one of the knives that andrew had and lined them up against the other guy’s throat. after a few threats, the guys squirmed out of the car, leaving andrew and neil in the car. neil goes, “Amateurs.” before getting in the driver’s seat

they drove their way to bar #17, and for some reason, a bunch of people end up getting into the car with them - an old lady with a lot of money in her purse, a tax lawyer, and a teenage couple that just needed a ride to bar #17

bar #18 is a gay bar. that night's theme was ‘animals’, so the strippers all had animal ears, or animal print underwear. neil saw a guy in a cage with a bear mask, and his eyes legitimately widened in fear

#andreil #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #myhc #aftg hc #this is so fucking wild i love being drunk #anyway watch this get absolutely no attention

[andrewjcsten]

oh oh oh, if you want to, maybe Neil and Andrew at Matt and Dan's wedding? Like Andrew refusing to dance and just eating like half the wedding cake by himself or something idk

sorry this took so long!! and it got a little longer than i expected, oops! i hope you like it

–

[ you are the reason ]

Matt had chosen Neil as his best man. Neil - even after years of friendship - was surprised. He still remembers Matt’s words - I wouldn’t want anyone else up there with me. Neil almost said no, but then Dan had interrupted as she walked into the room. He remembers her squealing, throwing her arms around him - what did he say? Between Dan’s warm smile and Matt’s bright eyes, he couldn’t say no.  

The weeks leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind, but Neil couldn’t complain - expect for the fact that he barely saw Andrew. Everybody was involved with the wedding: Allison and Renee were busy with their co-maid of honour duties, Nicky had put himself in charge of the food, and as one of the groomsmen, Kevin spent most of his time helping out Neil. Even Aaron had offered to help out, though it was mostly due to Katelyn’s insisting. Dan also had Wymack and Abby on speed dial - roping them into some ridiculous errands. 

Andrew was the only one that didn’t bother getting involved. He had said weddings were a waste of time. Neil didn’t understand why his heart sunk at that.

–

The hours before the wedding were chaotic. Somehow Matt’s tie had gotten misplaced and Neil spent half the morning trying to find it. Then, there was a problem with the catering, and another problem with the florist. By the time Neil was watching Dan walk down the aisle, he realized he hadn’t seen Andrew all day. Quickly scanning the seats, he spotted Andrew sitting in the front between Wymack and Bee, with Abby on the other side of Wymack. Neil noticed that Andrew’s eyes were already on him. His usual blank expression masked his face - but Neil could spot the heat underneath his stare. It made Neil’s skin go hot underneath his suit. He kept his eyes on Andrew until the vows were said and everybody got up for pictures. He kept his eyes on Andrew as he watched him slip out the back doors. Neil was tempted to follow, but as the best man, Neil knew he couldn’t duck out early.

He didn’t see Andrew until later at the reception. He was tucked away in the corner at an empty table. The lights were dim in the hall and shadows draped his figure, but Neil didn’t miss the way the reflections from the disco ball washed him in silver light every few seconds. It was like the universe was trying to dance with him, but he kept hiding. Neil paused, admiring Andrew for a moment. He had on a black suit - the jacket draped over the back of his chair. A black shirt was buttoned up to his neck, hugging his body in a way that made Neil want to tear it right off.

Trying to compose his thoughts and stop them from straying in that direction, he looked around the hall. Neil noticed everybody was slow dancing, and a part of Neil wanted to join. He approached Andrew and cleared his throat, “I was looking for you.”

“Well, you found me.” Andrew didn’t bother looking at him. Neil watched as he devoured a large piece of cake sitting in front of him. 

Neil stayed silent for a couple moments before speaking again, “Wanna dance?”

Andrew scoffed, ignoring him and continued to eat his cake.

“Is that a no?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Neil nodded at that, “Okay.” He didn’t want to push, but he also wanted to dance. “I’ll ask Renee.” Andrew didn’t say anything at that, but he did shovel another bite of the sweet icing into his mouth.

Turning around, Neil spotted Renee a few tables away and he made his way over to her. Soon, he was dancing with Renee and spinning around on the floor with Allison. One of Dan’s friends from back home even asked him for dance. Giggling, he twirled her around. The lights were shining, and between the music and the movement, the champagne Nicky kept pushing into his hands was making him feel like he was floating.  

Then, he felt a familiar hand on the small of his back, “Neil.” Andrew’s rough voice.

Neil turned around, grinning, “Drew,” he murmured out.

Without saying a word, he pulled Neil away from the middle of the dance floor. In the corner, Andrew reached up and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him in. His fingers at the nape of his neck felt like the start of a dream. “Yes or no?”

His voice was the end of a war.

Neil’s lips were on Andrew’s, mumbling out a yes against his mouth before Andrew could finish. The kiss was soft, slow, and Neil let his hands rest on Andrew’s waist. Pulling back, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Andrew’s neck as Andrew sighed, before resting his head on his shoulder. Breathing him in, he closed his eyes. He could stay here forever.  

Andrew tugged him out of his haven, “You know, you have to move your feet to dance.”

Titling his head back, Neil smiled wide, “We’re dancing?”

“You’re not drinking any more champagne.”  Andrew adjusted Neil’s hands before leading him around in their little pocket on the dance floor.

It wasn’t long before Nicky noticed, and all of the foxes were surrounding them. Allison said something about another bet, and a drunk Kevin even cheered them on. Matt complained, with fondness soaking his voice, about how Neil was stealing his thunder.

Andrew sent them all a menacing look, before looking back to Neil, “With the way they’re acting, you’d think it was our wedding.”

Neil’s eyes widened at those words, along with his grin, and he didn’t even let Andrew regret what he had said for a second, because he was crashing his lips against Andrew’s and the foxes cheered louder. Breathless, Neil was floating.

—

The song playing in the back as they danced sent a shiver down Neil’s spine.

And you are the reason That I’m still breathingI’m hopeless now

I’d climb every mountainAnd swim every ocean Just to be with you

—

Later, they were sitting at a table together, splitting another piece of cake, as they watched the hall empty out when Andrew abruptly got up. He walked over to the edge of the dance floor and stared at where Matt and Dan were still dancing, with the rest of the foxes. Neil, like a magnet, followed him. They stood there for a moment, watching their team family, until Andrew turned to look at him. Those beautiful eyes stared at him - and he didn’t know how everybody saw them void of emotion. He noticed every sliver of vulnerability in them, and right now Andrew was looking at him like he never had before.

Neil opened his mouth, “Andrew,” he said with his voice lifting like a question.

Andrew just tilted his head, waved a hand around, “So. When are we doing all of this?”

Neil could feel his heart drop, “What?“

Andrew just looked at him, eyes and mouth schooled into a frown, “Do I really have to spell it out for you, junkie? I can tell you want to do it one day. So, when?”

Neil opened his mouth, but he couldn’t speak. His heart was racing, and he couldn’t understand what was happening. “What are you…What do you mean?”

Andrew’s frown deepened, “I’m not going to get down on one knee, if that’s what you’re wondering. This is all you’re gonna get.” Andrew crossed his arms across his chest. Neil noticed how wide his eyes got - how open they were, inviting him in but pushing him out all at once.

Andrew stepped closer, “Yes or no?”

Neil couldn’t get the damned word out of his mouth fast enough - “Yes.”

“Yes, yes. Yes.”  He quickly closed the gap between them and pulled Andrew closer, “Yes, fuck.” He was staring at Andrew with a struck expression and Andrew, for once, let his guard drop. Neil caught the small smile on his lips, softening his usual hard edges.  

“This means forever, junkie,” Andrew was whispering and Neil felt his breath catch in his throat, “Sure you won’t get bored?”

Neil kissed him quiet, “Never.”

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #tfc #andreil #neil x andrew #i hope you liked it!! #mywriting #anon #mine

[wematch]

Only You

In their second year a deal is made. Andrew wants to explore his boundaries and there’s really just one person he trusts around himself.

Set in a universe where everything is the same except that Andrew never kissed Neil on the rooftop that night. Instead, they just got closer and more comfortable around each other.

Read from the start if you haven’t yet! [Part 1]

You can also read it on [AO3]

As always a huge thank you to @velvetnoodle for being an amazing beta <3<3

Part 6

Neil follows Andrew to their usual spot at the end of the bus and sits down in front of him. Kevin had tried to go over what everyone had done wrong during the game as soon as the engine started running but Wymack had told him to shut up. So now, the bus was quiet as everyone settled down to rest during the journey back.

Neil has his forehead resting against the window to watch the blurry landscape as they travel but he finds himself keep coming back to stare at Andrew instead. He keeps thinking about the game they just lost against the Trojans — they’re a fierce team and the Foxes gave it their best against them but tonight it just wasn’t enough. Maybe they’ll play again against them at the finals; if there’s a team Neil would like most to face in the finals, it’s the Trojans.

Halfway into the journey back, Andrew slowly opens his eyes to look at Neil. “Staring,” he comments.

Neil averts his eyes again and takes a deep breath. He can feel the exhaustion setting in after the game but he’s too uncomfortable to try to properly rest the way he is. A few minutes later, Andrew nudges him with his feet so Neil looks curiously at him. To anyone else, Andrew would seem to be only staring back but Neil sees the unspoken question in Andrew’s face about what’s going on in his head.

“I was thinking about the Trojans,” Neil tells him, “and that I want to meet them in the finals this year.” Andrew rolls his eyes at that and Neil can almost hear him in his head calling him a junkie. But then after a moment, Neil continues almost in a whisper, “Jean seemed well with the team.”

Andrew visibly tenses at the mention of Jean and doesn’t say anything about it. “Try to rest,” he tells him instead.

“I can’t; not like this,” Neil explains, understanding that talking about Jean brings back too many memories from last year. He didn’t manage to talk to Jean after the game but in reality, he wouldn’t even know what to say to him after everything they’ve been through. Neil’s just glad that he found a good team to stay with after the Ravens.

Neil looks at Andrew and studies him for a moment. He has a foot resting between Neil and the window, and the other lazily stretched on the floor, looking as comfortable as he can be on the bus. After a moment, Neil decides to stand and sit next to Andrew to stretch his legs on the bench he was previously sitting on.

He tries to find a comfortable position to be in but doesn’t quite manage. He feels annoyed at himself; two years ago he would’ve fallen asleep anywhere he wanted, but now after getting used to sleeping in a decent bed every day that doesn’t happen anymore. He keeps moving around to get a into better position until Andrew speaks again.

“Stop moving,” Andrew tells him with his eyes closed. “Either that or move away.”

Their legs are touching so Neil tries to stay still to let Andrew rest but after a few minutes, he can no longer manage to do it. He shifts slightly again to find a better position to relax.

“Neil,” Andrew says it like a warning and opens his eyes to stare at Neil.

Nei looks sideways at Andrew, and notices the comfortable hoodie that he has on and begins to wonder if Andrew would allow him to lean against him. “Andrew, yes or no?” Neil asks tentatively motioning with his hand towards Andrew’s shoulder.

Andrew turns to stare outside through the window for so long that Neil thinks he’s not going to get an answer. “It’s a yes, as long as you stay still,” Andrew quietly replies.

For a moment Neil doesn’t move, too surprised that Andrew had just agreed to it. He blinks three times before he slowly moves to rest his head on Andrew’s shoulder to try to close his eyes for a few minutes. However, it doesn’t take long for his neck to start to ache from being bent in a weird angle.

Andrew, sensing his discomfort, sighs and shifts to put his arm that was resting on his lap around Neil, pulling him closer to his chest in the process. The hoodie feels soft against Neil’s face and there’s a faint smell of smoke on it from the cigarette Andrew had before they climbed onto the bus. The warmth from Andrew’s body reaches him making his body relax. Neil closes his eyes and grins, feeling safe where he is.

“One hundred and twenty-eight,” Andrew says as he squeezes his side in a warning. Neil tries and fails to stop the grin on his face. “Going on one hundred and twenty-nine.”

***

An hour later, Wymack parks the bus in their parking lot and rushes everyone to get out. Neil quietly exits the bus followed by Andrew, and they make a beeline for the Maserati to make the short drive back to the Fox Tower.

As soon as they park the car in the dorms and exit the vehicle, Kevin storms away into the building without waiting for them and Neil watches Aaron stop in front of Andrew with Nicky trailing behind him. He notices how Nicky is looking at his feet so Neil decides to start walking inside to give them some space to talk as a family. However, he almost curses when he finds himself walking behind Mike and Renee. He doesn’t want to be included in their conversation, so he slows down his pace to create some distance between them.

He’s about to enter the building when he hears Nicky call his name so he looks to the side and sees Nicky jogging to catch up with him.

“Hey,” Nicky says once he stops in front of Neil, “Andrew is asking for you.”

Neil nods slightly confused and wonders what they said to Andrew that made him call Neil back instead of meeting back in their dorm room. He walks back to the end of the parking lot where Andrew always parks and passes Aaron on the way. They glance at each other but neither one says a word. When Neil reaches the Maserati, Andrew is already inside with the engine on.

Andrew spares him a glance when Neil pauses near his open window. “Get in the car," he tells him.

“What about the others?” Neil asks, feeling even more confused after he steps into the car. Neil thought they were all going to Columbia like every other weekend, except Kevin, who had already told them before the game that he wanted to stay with Wymack in order to spend some time with his father. When his question is ignored he insists, “What about Aaron and Nicky?”

“Aaron wants to stay," Andrew explains, “so Nicky is going to stay too. The upperclassmen already invited him to go out.”

Neil stays quiet until they enter the highway as he tries to process this. It was going to be just the two of them going to Columbia this weekend. He didn't mind the idea; between practices, and classes, and sharing the dorm with Kevin they could never spend a lot of time together. The few moments they had alone were mostly on the rooftop.

“Are we going to Eden’s?” Neil asks once they reach their highway exit.

“No, let’s just stay in the house tonight,” Andrew answers him. Neil hums in acknowledgment and glances at Andrew; he feels exhausted and the idea of just going back to the house and not to the packed club sounds pretty good.

Once they're at the house, Neil is about to go to the bathroom after Andrew to get ready for the night when he remembers that he never went upstairs to get his travel bag. “Andrew?”

Andrew sees him hesitating near the bathroom door and comes to stop near his side and glance into the bathroom. When he doesn't see anything wrong he simply stares at Neil, waiting for him to continue.

“Is just that I didn’t go upstairs to get my bag and— ”

“There are some spare toothbrushes in the cabinet,” Andrew tells him and starts to walk towards his bedroom.

Neil nods; he can always go to the mall tomorrow and get a fresh pair of clothes for the weekend. Nicky would be happy to see him in new clothes as he keeps complaining about his old ones, but Neil grimaces at the waste of money that would be. He has a few new clothes already that Allison made him buy; there’s no point in buying more. It’s not like he’s just going to throw away all his old ones; those are still good to go to the gym.

When he steps outside the bathroom, Andrew points to his left at the top of the couch where a small pile of clothes is sitting and doesn’t bother explaining it.

Neil grabs the clothes and glances at Andrew. “Thanks,” he tells him, Andrew doesn’t acknowledge it other than glancing in his direction and returning to look at the TV screen, so Neil returns to the bathroom to put on the clothes. Both the sweatpants and the sweater are black. The sweater feels comfortable and loose on him since Andrew has broader shoulders and the clothes look very similar to the ones Andrew has dressed just now. Once Neil’s done changing he sits on the couch right next to Andrew.

They begin to watch an old movie but Neil is not really focusing on it. He feels exhausted from the day so not even halfway through the movie he makes himself more comfortable on the couch to try to rest by sliding down on the cushions.

Andrew turns his head to the side to study Neil. After a few moments, his hand comes to rest on Neil’s neck, guiding Neil’s head to his lap. Neil gets the idea and follows along, stretching his legs on the couch. Then he feels Andrew’s hand resting on his hair, and one of his fingers starts to make slow patterns on Neil’s scalp, making his eyes feel heavy.

Neil closes his eyes feeling content where he is. He starts to wonder what it would like to sleep next to Andrew. He's expecting Andrew to get up to go to his bedroom at any moment but when it doesn't happen Neil eventually turns his head to look up and finds Andrew with his eyes barely open.

“Are you going to sleep here?” Neil asks quietly. They’ve slept near each other before but not this close, not when they were close enough to be touching.

“No,” Andrew says. “It's not a good idea, you know how I can wake up.”

“I know, and it doesn't matter.”

“Don't be stupid,” Andrew tells him.

“I'm not. All I'm saying is that I don't care.” When Andrew doesn't say anything else Neil continues, “If you lash out you'll stop as soon as you understand what's happening.”

Neil gives Andrew some time to think about it and when the hand in his head starts moving again, he presses on insistently,“ Yes or no?”

Andrew lets out a frustrated breath. “Yes, but not here. I'm not going to sleep on this damn couch,” Andrew finally tells him and removes his hand. “Now, move.”

Neil sits up on the couch and watches Andrew get up and start to walk in the direction of his bedroom. Neil blinks twice, wondering if he had heard right, that Andrew had just agreed to this. “Come on,” Andrew says to Neil once he opens the door and notices that Neil hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

When Neil enters the bedroom, Andrew is already on the bed with his back to the wall. “Are you going to just keep staring?” Andrew asks him when Neil doesn’t move from the door.

“No,” Neil answers, closing the door before walking to the bed. He climbs in and leaves as much space as he can between them. ”Tell me if you need me to leave, okay?”

“Yeah, or I can just push you off the bed,” Andrew points out. Neil rolls his eyes and watches curiously as Andrew moves closer to him, holding himself up with his arm. “Yes or no?” Andrew asks him, staring at his lips.

Neil licks his own lips subconsciously. “Yes,” he answers right away; he’s been waiting the whole damn day for this. They kiss until Neil feels his mouth sore and he’s too sleepy to move at all. And eventually, they fall asleep.

[Part 7]

#andreil #aftg #tfc #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil fic #aftg fic #myandreilfic #part 7 coming soon #only two more parts whoa

[emmerrr]

♖ andreil pls (bc as Charles Boyle would say "That's the most intimate thing you can do to a lover with your fingers")

listEN I lost it when I saw this in my askbox, charles is who I thought of immediately when I saw that prompt! I’m gonna combine it with some other prompts I hope that’s okay!

anonymous asked: i’m living for these prompts! i love your writing! everything is so soft and lovely 😊 😍❤️ if you have time can you do andreil and ♟?? it seems to suit them ;) [thank you so much :) ]

anonymous asked:♗ Andreil I love your writing!!! [thanks!]

anonymous asked:Andreil prompt; ♢: Forehead or cheek kisses

anonymous asked:hello, could i please have ♣ or ♚ with andreil? btw just wanted to tell you how much i love the fics you write. you’re a wonderful writer and i adore you [thanks you’re the sweetest!]

♖: Having their hair washed by the other

♟: Patching up a wound

♗: One falling asleep with their head in the other’s lap.

♢: Forehead or cheek kisses

♣: Back scratches or ♚: Head scratches

SUPER COMBO. LET’S GO! read on ao3]

as of now, I only have one andreil prompt left to do but I think I’m probably gonna leave it a few weeks because I want to do something christmassy with it. bear with me, anon! also I wrote a renison prompt which you can find here if that’s your thing.

please don’t send me anymore! :)

*warnings for brief blood mention and a minor injury.*

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Neil said, looking up from the sports pages with a frown. There was an article in there about Kevin that Neil wanted to cut out and frame just to annoy Andrew.

The man himself was leaning against the kitchen counter, a bread-roll in his hand that he was slicing with a sharp knife, the blade inching ever closer to Andrew’s palm.

“Do what,” Andrew asked with absolutely no inflection.

“That,” Neil said. Andrew knew full-well what he was talking about; it had been brought up many times before. “One of these days you’re going to cut your hand, and I won’t feel sorry for you.”

The look Andrew shot Neil was dripping with derision. “I do this nearly every day and it hasn’t happened yet.”

“It only takes once.”

Andrew rolled his eyes but made no further reply, and Neil returned his attention to the paper, Kevin’s triumphant game-winning grin staring back at him. The season had just drawn to a close, Kevin’s team narrowly beating out Matt’s in the final. Neil and Andrew’s team had lost to Kevin’s in the semi-final; it still stung, but Neil was proud anyway, of himself and Andrew and the rest of their team. He was even prouder of Kevin.

For now though, he was just looking forward to an extended break. He’d been quietly pleased when Andrew had joined him for a run this morning, and now back, he was planning on hopping in the shower as soon as he’d finished with the paper. Maybe he’d be able to convince Andrew to join him there, too.

“Neil.”

“Hm?”

“You can say ‘I told you so’ if you want.”

“What?” Neil looked up and Andrew was holding his hand over the sink, dripping blood. “Oh fuck, Andrew.”

Neil was out of his chair in an instant and over to the sink. He took Andrew’s wrist and gently turned it over so he could see the wound. Across Andrew’s palm was a thin line; not deep, but still bleeding.

“Is it deep?” Andrew asked. He wasn’t looking at his injured hand but the slight furrow on his brow indicated that it was causing him some discomfort. “I’m not going to the hospital. If it needs stitches, you can do it.”

“It’s not that bad,” Neil said. He turned the tap on and rinsed Andrew’s hand underneath, then grabbed some kitchen paper and stuffed it onto the cut until he could hunt down their well-stocked first-aid kit. “You won’t need stitches.”

He pulled Andrew over to the kitchen table and sat him down, then took Andrew’s other hand and pressed it against the paper towels. “Hold those there, I’ll be right back.”

It took Neil a couple of minutes to track down the first-aid kit in the bathroom. It got more use than he’d like, thanks to the rough nature of their jobs, not to mention Neil was a little accident-prone.

Back in the kitchen, he sat down opposite Andrew and dug through the kit, pulling out disinfectant and bandages. He held his hand out expectantly, and Andrew dropped his injured one straight into it.

Neil carefully pulled away the paper towels and put them aside. “This might sting a little,” he said, and set about cleaning the wound with disinfectant.

Andrew sat through the whole thing in stoic silence, not even a wince as Neil cleaned him up then carefully set about wrapping a bandage around his hand. It wasn’t until Neil was finishing up and taping the bandage in place that Andrew finally spoke up.

“Just fucking say it, Neil.”

“I’m not going to say ‘I told you so’,” Neil said with a sigh. He pressed down on the tape and inspected his handiwork. Satisfied, he got up and packed the first-aid kit away, aware of Andrew watching him the entire time. He smiled, then leaned down and kissed Andrew’s forehead. “I did fucking tell you, though.”

“There it is.”

As it happened, Andrew did end up in the shower with Neil, albeit more out of necessity than anything else. They had to bag his hand so the bandage didn’t get wet, and showering one-handed wasn’t exactly the easiest of tasks.

Neil hurriedly washed his own hair then turned his attention to Andrew. The second his fingers were in Andrew’s hair, hazel eyes slid shut.

“I remember,” Neil said thoughtfully as he lathered up Andrew’s blond hair, “when you had to do this for me.”

Andrew’s eyes flickered back open. “Well, if we’re taking a trip down memory lane, that’s not the only thing I did for you.”

Only Andrew could reference a blow job with such a disinterested expression, and Neil snorted a laugh. “I could do that too. If you want.”

Andrew hummed, considering. “Maybe later. Tired.”

“Okay,” Neil said fondly, before gently guiding Andrew’s head under the spray to rinse him off. “Now. Do you want the conditioner that smells like mangoes or the one that smells like vanilla?”

Andrew eyed the mango one with great distaste. “Vanilla. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Neil repeated, smiling as he squeezed some out into his hand. He worked it into Andrew’s hair. “So. What do you wanna do for the rest of the day.”

Andrew shrugged. “Nap first. I don’t care what we do later.”

“What do you need a nap for?”

Andrew glanced up at Neil. “Someone got me out of bed ridiculously early to go for a run.”

“Hey,” Neil chided. “You got up of your own accord. It’s not my fault you couldn’t bear to be without me for an hour.”

Andrew’s eyes flashed, but he didn’t deny it.

Neil grinned. With Andrew, it was so often in what he didn’t say, and Neil took these victories where he could.

Once out of the shower and dressed, Neil went to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and clean up the mess Andrew had made when he cut his hand.

When it was tidy, Neil leaned back against the counter and waited for the coffee machine to beep. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked his messages. There were three unread; one from Matt, one from Nicky, one from Allison. He replied to Matt’s and Allison’s, but Andrew was going to call Nicky later anyway, so Neil could talk to him then.

He poured out two mugs of coffee and made his way over to the living room, but he paused in the doorway and watched for a moment because Andrew seemed to be having some sort of muted stand-off with the cats.

Andrew was sitting on the far seat of the sofa, glaring down at Sir and King who had spread themselves over the rest of it. They were clearly getting in the way of Andrew’s napping idea.

Neil cleared his throat lightly and Andrew looked up. “Come and move your useless fur-babies.”

“You move them,” Neil said, entering the room at last. “Just pick them up and put them on the floor.” He put the mugs on the coffee table.

“If I pick them up, they win,” Andrew said stubbornly. “Also, I’m injured.” He illustrated this by holding up his bandaged hand.

Neil looked at Andrew. Andrew looked back.

“You,” Neil said, “are a ridiculous human being.” He hoisted up a cat under each arm and deposited them on the floor, then sat down and reached for his coffee. As soon as he was sitting back, Andrew spread himself along the sofa, resting his head in Neil’s lap.

“This is a preemptive measure,” he explained tiredly. “So the cats don’t jump back up here.”

Neil took a sip of coffee and laughed lightly. “You know that won’t stop them, right?”

As if they were listening, both cats jumped up within seconds of each other. Sir settled down behind Andrew’s knees, King in front of his chest. Andrew huffed a very put upon sigh, but magnanimously refrained from shoving them off.

“Look at that,” Neil said. “Progress.”

“Shut. Up.”

Neil laughed again and leaned back a little more. He carefully lifted his feet and rested them on the coffee table, earning him a tiny annoyed grunt when he jostled Andrew’s head.

“Alright, alright,” he said, and settled his free hand in Andrew’s hair. “I was just getting comfy.” He scratched lightly at Andrew’s head and then stilled his hand.

A couple of seconds ticked by, then Andrew grunted again.

“What?” Neil asked.

Another grunt, this time punctuated by Andrew pushing his head into Neil’s hand just a little, until he got the message and started scratching again.

“You can use your words, y’know,” Neil said, but he couldn’t honestly say he minded having Andrew warm and comfortable and safe under his hands.

Andrew didn’t respond because he was also incredibly difficult, a trait that was often infuriating but occasionally endearing. Such as now.

By the time Neil had drained his coffee, Andrew’s breathing had gone suspiciously deep and even.

“Andrew,” Neil whispered. “Your coffee’s gonna go cold.”

But Andrew was most definitely asleep, and most definitely did not currently care about his coffee.

It was fine. Neil would make him more when he woke up.

Moving with painstaking slowness so as to minimise jostling Andrew, Neil put his mug back on the table. Then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and let the sounds of his cats obnoxious purring and Andrew’s soft breathing lull him to sleep.

He was home.

#tumblr prompts #andreil #tfc fic #tfc #the foxhole court

[percontaion-points]

Raven King chapter 3

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 3

On Saturday morning Neil insulted Riko on national television. Kevin warned them Riko would retaliate the same day. The Foxes should have stayed together out of sight, but Allison and Seth went bar-hopping downtown with friends. Neil saw Seth right before they all split up. He remembered telling the upperclassmen goodbye before following Andrew south to Columbia. Four hours later Seth was dead.

I'm pretty sure that I said this when it happened in the first book, but like... Normal people don't go around and literally murder because of college sports. THIS ISN'T FUCKING NORMAL. WHY THE FUCKITY FUCK WOULD YOUR AVERAGE PERSON FEEL THE NEED TO HIDE SIMPLY BECAUSE THE GUY DOESN'T LIKE YOU?

If I had literally any faith that this series was good, it would come out that Riko and the Ravens had had nothing at all to do with Seth's death, and that Seth was just a junkie.

But the drama of having random yakuza relatives murder a rival college sportsball player for you!!!!!!

She knew Seth liked mixing drinks with his prescription pills. Neil saw Allison dig through Seth's pockets in search of the bottle. She'd come up empty and kissed Seth's irritation away.

Going back to this book's casual sexism, I completely and utterly adore how it was 100% the responsibility of Allison to ensure that Seth wasn't doing drugs. And not literally anybody else. Or even the fact that most universities now have strict anti-drug policies for athletes.

Nope! This is all on Allison!

But that was for one half, and now Andrew was expected to play a full game. The obvious answer was that Andrew would have to play with his drugs tonight whether he wanted to or not, but things were never that easy with Andrew.

I love how they're not only going against a court-ordered drug to not be given, but also putting Andrew's mental health as well as the safety of literally everybody around Andrew at risk... For a game.

Andrew said Exy was too boring to be worth his while.

I STILL DON'T KNOW WHY ANYBODY IS EVEN HERE. IF YOU HATE THE GAME SO MUCH, THEN JUST FUCKING LEAVE.

"Maybe you've noticed how much I let this team get away with," Wymack said. "I know what sort of people I've recruited, and I know some of them need a little help to keep an even keel. So long as no one gets hurt, no one gets caught, and no one is stupid enough to bring it onto my court, I don't care what you guys get up to in your free time. It's not my business because I don't want it to be my business."

Wymack meant the cracker dust party drugs and alcohol Andrew gave his group in Columbia. Neil wasn't sure what surprised him more: that Wymack knew what his defense line was into or that he let it happen.

For me, the most unbelievable part about this isn't that David doesn't give a shit about the drug abuse going on... it's the fact that the university doesn't care. A lot of universities now have drug policies (as well as “no pass, no play” rules) BECAUSE IT WAS SUCH A HUGE GODDAMEND PROBLEM.

But I also remember that in the first book, it was painfully obvious that the author has never once attended an actual university because there were so many things wrong with everything she was describing...

Truth was Wymack picked them because he understood firsthand how much they needed another chance.

He says this, but at the same time, also allows the students to go out and do things like party and do drugs. How much could David possibly care about the students WHILE HE'S ALLOWING THIS TO CONTINUE?!

A few minutes later they were on the road. Neil watched out the window until the campus disappeared from view.

Chapter 3 summary: It's time for the next game. It's an away game, and they get out of their afternoon classes so that they can travel to the other university. As they're in transit from the actual university to the stadium, Neil thinks about how the team seems to have changed for the better now that Seth is gone, even though nobody will admit it. He also thinks about how Andrew is 100% convinced Riko had something to do with Seth's death, even as impossible as it sounds.

They get into the stadium, where they see Allison for the first time since Seth's death. She's in a catatonic state. The others walk on eggshells around her, except for Andrew, who doesn't seem to give a flying fuck. Coach talks about how they've come up with a plan for this game, although there's a lot of bullshit “technical” talk that is inherently meaningless.

But a big part of the plan tonight hinges on Andrew being off his medication. He normally is for the first half of the game, and then recovers while he takes his pills again for the second half. But he needs to be off for the entire game so that they can actually win tonight. Andrew threatens Kevin with his knife over some bullshit or another; I literally don't even care anymore.

Neil then takes the time to remind the reader about Kevin's background with exy. And then about Andrew's inability to focus properly while he's drugged up, but while he's sober, he literally doesn't give a shit about exy.

Neil leaves the locker room, where he finds David checking their rackets. Since this is an away game, they're all bringing their spares, and it would suck to have nothing to play with if one of them broke. David says a lot of stuff about how he knows about all of the drug abuse that's going on with the players, but as I said, all of it is inherently meaningless. David cares more about exy than the lives of the players, as evident by Seth's death.

David and Neil load up the rackets, and get onto the bus, where the others are waiting for them.

#All For The Game #The Raven King #chapter 03 #Neil Josten #Riko Moriyama #Seth Gordon #shitty people are shitty #do you even know how the world works? #HEADDESKING #Allison Reynolds #casual sexism #can we not #Aaron and Andrew Minyard #what the fuck #David Wymack #shitty adults are shitty #not one single fuck was found

[jemej3m]

Professor - pt 3

ehhhh oops?

read on ao3

Neil bit back a smile and tried not to seem like he was running off, but his pulse skipped every second beat, and he hadn’t had this itch to go since he’d been on the run. 

But this wasn’t running away. 

“Meet y’all back at the hotel?” Maggie murmured, speaking to Neil only. Neil’s head jerked, not really listening to anything except for when his coach would say “You’re free to go.” 

And then he did say those words, and Neil was running. 

Four months. Four months and twelve days and however many hours and however many minutes and seconds. Neil burst out through the back door, escaping the security that was going to escort them to their transportation, and veered to the left before he could be caught in an onslaught of fans. 

It was barely a block away, where Andrew had promised he’d stand. He’d driven all the way from Columbia down to Florida, because it was unbearable. Four months was a long time, for them. Travelling and promoting and sponsorships and award ceremonies that Andrew couldn’t accompany him to, because no one knew and he had a job of his own. 

Neil stopped short, out of breath, when he was five feet away. 

There was nothing more comforting than seeing Andrew’s eyes soften at the mere sight of him, than watching his arms drop from crossed over his chest, one hand extended. Neil took it, and instantly, there was nothing left he had to keep bottled up. 

“Yes.” Andrew said. 

Blinding, bruising, intoxicating, yes, yes, yes. Andrew was leaning against the car and Neil was leaning over him, forearms braced against the windows. 

It was, in hindsight, reckless and stupid to do this so close to the stadium. Both of them were equally as desperate and depraved of each other, and they should have at least gotten into the car. 

Neil supposed they were lucky it was only one person. 

“Oops.” 

He was taller than both of them by far, lips rolled into his mouth and eyes wide. Sweater, jeans, lace-up leather shoes and a black scarf around his neck contrasting with the Sprinters cap he wore.

He smiled hesitantly, but that didn’t help with the sick feeling in his stomach. “Uh. Long distance must be hard.” So he knew who Andrew was. “I’ll let you two go.”

Andrew was under Neil’s frame one moment and standing in front of the man the next. “Tell anyone about this, snitch, and I won’t hesitate to carve you inside out.” He spun a knife between his fingers. 

The man’s eyebrows rose up, but he seemed unfazed by Andrew’s threat. “How’d you know I was a reporter?”

“Notepad and pen in your pocket. Nicely dressed: How many people’s private lives had you sold to dress like that?”

“None.” He smiled. “I have my standards.”

“You must be a shit reporter.”

He gestured to himself. “I have my ways. You can put the knife away, Minyard. This is all off record.”

“Nothing’s off record with you lot.” Neil said, bitter. 

“I suppose.” The man tapped two fingers against the bill of his cap. “Which means you owe me.”

Neil’s teeth ground against each other. 

“When -- or if -- you two feel like coming out, I can cash it in then.” He pulled out his notepad and pen, scribbling out his name and number. “Have a nice evening.”

Karter Guess.

“Pretentious name for a pretentious asshole.” Andrew muttered, when they slid into the car. 

They didn’t want to acknowledge the close call that it’d been. Neil squeezed Andrew’s hand, trying to shove aside the heaviness in his chest. 

“He’s genuine, Neil.”

Neil nodded. 

Chrissie Lauyier wasn’t a sports reporter, but RUN had seemed to want her, for some strange, unknown reason. Journalism was tough: you took any fucking opportunity that was presented to you.

Six months later, she’d wormed her way out of covering live baseball games and sitting with two other women rate the attractiveness of basketball league players. It’d landed her with Exy: specifically, writing about Exy’s infamous.

She hadn’t known Kevin Day, nor Neil Josten, or Jean Moreau. But it was an incredibly intertwined mess: She’d found herself buying an Allison sports bra, though she went to the gym only once a week. The Exy league stemmed from it’s college league, and those school’s teams had an oddly intense following, of which the media actually covered.

There seemed to also be a lot of confusing and dramatic history for a sport 40 years old.

Andrew Minyard’s name had been deeply buried, in the depths of college Exy stars and statistics a decade old, Californian news articles even older.

By the time the day was through she was sitting at her desk, her head in her hands, having watched and read about his brief career in Exy and his personality as a whole.

There was a knock on her office cubicle’s wall. She grunted and didn’t look up to acknowledge who had arrived.

“Heard you got Minyard.”

She grunted again.

Karter Guess crouched by her desk and glanced at her screen, then up at her. “I got Josten. I’ll help you out.”

She spared him a look.

He grinned. “He owes me a favour.”

“Neil Josten owes you a favour?” Chris echoed. “How did you manage that?”

He cocked his head. “Irrelevant. But he’s the only way you’re going to convince Andrew to give you anything but a scathing look.”

Karter was less the creepy colleage and more the overbearing one who organised the Christmas parties and the outings on Friday evenings. They’d worked together once before and it’d gone well and smooth, but Chris had always preferred working on her own. Karter’d respected that.

It was probably time to get over herself, though, if she wanted to keep her job.

“Fine. Fine. But shove any more Starbucks and Instagram Aesthetics down my throat and I’ll throttle you.”

“You liked it.” He said offhandedly, standing from his crouch. He was really, tall to most people but her, because she was also pretty tall. They were almost the same height when she wore her heeled boots. “I’ll try and contact him this evening, but you need to book us flights to South Carolina Regional.”

“Why?” Chris didn’t exactly have the money for cruising around the country on her own free will.

“We’re paying Dan Wilds a visit: Don’t worry, RUN’s paying. And don’t you know? Palmetto is where Minyard teaches criminology.”

Chris was sitting on the hood of the rental car, because Karter’s an idiot and locked her out of it. It’s a grossly humid spring morning, and that strange second skin she always feels after going on planes is only just starting to peel off. Claustrophobia, probably. Something about fucked up childhoods and trauma. Chris can’t stop itching through her clothes.

She liked the crisp springs of Chicago, dustings of snow that melted as soon as they fell into the puddles. She hated the feeling of suspecting the back of her neck was being burnt, but there wasn’t anywhere she could really take cover nearby. She had no clue where Karter was, or why he was taking a while, and didn’t want to give him her number by texting him (They had ten dollars over it).

Her lack of comfort and boredom almost won out, but a tall (only an inch on her, though) man walking into the narrow path that lead to the Palmetto Exy stadium’s back door, where she assumed the Foxes got in an out. He paused and Chris heard a thump that sounded suspiciously like a fist on a steel door, and he stalked out again. 

Chris didn’t have the patience to deal with angry young men, but he bee-lined straight for her.

“Is that why you’re waiting?”

Chris cocked her head. “Not sure. Is what?”

“The door’s passcode’s changed.” He huffed and put his bag and racket down in front of Chris’ rental car, all green eyes and thick muscle wrapping around his limbs. There was a spot of concealer over his cheekbone.

“I’m just chilling here. Can I ask why your tattoo is covered?”

His scathing look transformed into something of mild surprise. “I just came from the airport. Most people don’t recognise me without it.”

“Unless they’re Exy addicts.” Chris’ head fell to the other side: She needed to work out the knots in her muscles, from being hunched over at her computer.

“Or reporters.”

Chris shrugged. “Guilty as charged. But it’s not you I’m interested in. Please, don’t look so surprised.”

“It’s not immodesty.” Kevin Day was a liar. He was as arrogant as a man could be. Which was very. “The lot of you usually are.”

“I don’t give a shit about your whole Raven scenario.”

“Well,” He said. “Makes sense. Not many people care about anything but the ghost over my shoulder.”

Chris felt a little bit bad. “I suppose it’d be the same for me, too. If I was famous.”

“Kevin Day.” He said, suddenly, offering his hand.

Chris took it. “Chris Lauyier. You don’t have to introduce yourself to me: I write feature articles for RUN: I know who you are.”

“Seems like you have a bad impression of me.”

“There’s a difference between real smiles and fake ones.” Chris smiled and pointed to it. “You’re pretty slick.”

Kevin’s smile wasn’t so much of a grin, but a stretch, where his lips thinned and his eyes narrowed a little. “You’re pretty observant.”

“What’re you doing down here? Path down memory lane?”

“Neil and I come back down every-so-often. Well, Neil’s here often enough.” His mouth twisted. “His team’s only the next state over: Spends a lot of time here. Off the record, right?”

“Do you see a pen and paper?”

“Some people have freakishly good memory.”

“Do not fear: I’m not one of them.”

Kevin nodded. “As I was saying -- Neil’s around here often enough, but usually doesn’t stop by Palmetto. We help out Dan.” Kevin arched his eyebrow. “And my father’s down here.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“Had a stroke two years ago. I think he appreciates the company -- and Dan appreciates the spare five minutes we give her.”

“Am I supposed to know who your father is?”

“Wymack?”

Chris shut her eyes. It took her a moment, and she nodded when she opened them.

“Strange that something so big to me, is completely nothing to you.”

“That’s generally how being strangers works.” He sent her a scathing look as she pulled out her phone and dialled the most recent number on her list.

Danielle Wilds picked up on the fourth ring. “Hello. It’s the reporter, isn’t it? Has your partner come back?”

“Not yet, but I’ve got a six-foot-two man with a high sense of self importance and a tendency to overshare with strangers angry about not being able to get through the door.”

Dan laughed. “I like you. Tell him I’ll be down in a minute.”

Kevin’s scowl was perpetually permanent when she hung up. “Rude.”

“They’re switching over security systems, so you can’t get through the door unless someone lets you in from the inside, or if you have the key. Have a nice day.”

“You aren’t coming in?”

“I’m waiting for my partner.” Chris tipped an imaginary hat. “Nice to meet you, Day. I’m new in sports, but expect me to be snooping around.”

“You lot always do.” He sighed, picking up his things. “Goodbye.”

Well, her pessimistic -- or was it sarcastic? -- nature could help but think: There’s the glorious Kevin Day. 

Karter returned approximately two minutes after Dan let Kevin through the door with two six-inch subs and two bottles of coke and joined her on the hood of the car.

“Have you been sitting here the entire time?”

“What the fuck were you doing?”

“Getting wifi at a coffee corner, down the road.”

Chris glared. “You could have told me. And given me the keys to the car, so I could at least have a nap.”

“Eat your sandwich.” He was smiling. “You were desperate to pee: I wasn’t going to distract you when I was sure you’d club me over the back of the head.”

Chris ate her sandwich, and kept her strange encounter with Kevin Day to herself.

It was set: Chris had a dinner date with the Andrew Minyard. Apparently a whole foot and an inch shorter than her, and as intimidating as he had been a handful of years ago, swatting exy balls like flies.

Chris would wear her heeled boots.

Karter was going for a more casual approach, meeting Neil Josten for coffee.

Dan Wilds, who also preferred a shortened version of her name like Chris did, was an incredibly pleasant woman, and Chris didn’t spare the word pleasant on just anyone.

“You’re worrying about what to wear.” Karter teased, in their hotel room. He was about to leave for late afternoon coffee, whereas Chris had a few hours left till their booking at an Italian place in Columbia. “This isn’t a date, Chrissie.”

“Enough with the Chrissie.” She snapped. “And I know it’s not a fucking date. Moron. I just -- I’m not sure if he’d appreciate casual or formal more. Don’t laugh, I’m trying to do my job! One wrong move and I’ll fuck this entire thing over, and won’t get a word out of him.”

“If you’re insincere, you won’t get a word out of him.” Karter said. “Don’t go out and buy anything: Don’t be ridiculous. That jumpsuit is fine. And the heeled boots.”

Chris stared. “Are you sure you’re not gay?”

“Are you sure you don’t play softball?” He threw back. “Maybe you should add a vest.”

“Fuck off.”

“And an undercut.”

“Fuck off.”

He walked out grinning.

When she walked in, Andrew was glad he was already sitting. Mostly because she was monstrously tall, though being short meant everyone was monstrously tall, but she was wearing heels on top of being over six-feet.

Excessive.

But Andrew was also glad to be sitting, because she was fifteen minutes late and he hated waiting around for people whilst standing.

He hated waiting in general, but he’d promised Neil to stick it out at least half an hour.

She’d already wasted 15 minutes, so Andrew only had to stare at her until she was too uncomfortable to say anything, eat his meal that he’d already ordered and she would pay for, tell her that Neil and him were married, and then leave.

Neil had already dealt with the other reporter, the one who’d already known about the two of them and had kept it quiet.

He was staring at her, but she was staring back. Level, unafraid, and most certainly not uncomfortable. Sometimes they started like that. Journalists liked to act more important than they were.

Five minutes after not back down, he slid the menu across the table. “Well played.”

“Thanks.” She flicked it open, scanned the menu and flipped it shut again. “Andrew Minyard.”

“Chrissie Lauyier.”

“It’s Chris.”

Andrew nodded. “I’ve already ordered.”

“Good.” She gestured to a waitress and didn’t smile, ordering one of the cheapest dishes and garlic bread for the two of them. Andrew appreciated it, even if he wouldn’t mention it. When the waitress left, she checked a watch on her wrist. “Karter’s already done hassling Neil, and he was oddly tolerant apparently. You just didn’t bother reacting or talking to the press at all, whilst in the spotlight back in the day, whereas Neil openly despises it.”

Andrew stared at her some more: She was fiddling with a thin silver chain around her wrist, flicking back the black hair cut to chin length with a jerk of her head. Fidgeting. “Bore me with more of your small talk.”

“Why does Neil owe a favour to Karter?”

“That’s a question your boy can answer himself, can’t he?”

“He’s refused, as of yet.” She flicked her hair again. The pendant on her necklace made a small tinkling noise as she moved her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “You can’t tell me?”

Andrew could, but he didn’t want to spoil all the fun. “Why would I want to? Are you going to jump to the chase, or what.”

“I’m meant to get a full page interview from you about your views on Exy. How it worked into your life, why you chose it, how you played and why you continued to. Why you stopped, would you consider it again.” A curl of a single lip. “I’ve been told that exy is your absolute favourite subject.”

“If it was, I’d be teaching it. Speaking of -- is that bracelet from your mother? Which one?”

Chris froze.

Gotcha.

But he hadn’t snatched her for long: She eased up almost instantly. “Birth mother’s. Didn’t think anyone would bother digging down that deep.”

“Criminology professor.” He reminded her. “Did you kill your adoptive mother?”

“They thought I did, didn’t they?” Her knuckles were white. “Just because I haven’t had a nightmare about it for a little while now, doesn’t mean that I did it.”

“You were lucky.”

“To be adopted? I know.”

There was a moment of silence, a quiet understanding. The food arrived, prolonging the silence for a moment more.

“Why are you reporting sports?”

“Therapeutical.” She stabbed her fork into her pasta. “It has -- or so I thought -- nothing that people could connect to me -- or that I could relate to.”

“Welcome to the Foxes.”

And Andrew almost smiled into his food, but god forbid he smiled out here, and god forbid he smiled at anything other than Neil.

They finished in silence. Andrew could write 400 words on Exy, couldn’t he? That was simple enough, even if he loathed it.

He supposed he didn’t truly loathe it. He hated how it was what kept Neil alive, how he was merely a pawn in the Moriyamas’ twisted game. He hated how it had helped, in the end. It had been a stepping stone, a vital one, in meeting the right people, in getting better. Admitting it was proof.

He hated, though he wouldn’t say, and refused to regret -- but he hated how it took Neil away from him. He hated how it separated them.

And if he ever said that, Neil would drop everything for him. It was a mutual understanding: Nothing mattered more than the other.

He supposed that was love. Wouldn’t admit it. Wouldn’t dare.

When he finished, she was only halfway through. He traced the rim of his glass with a finger, and she looked up at him with pasta hanging out of her mouth with one eyebrow raised.

“You wanted to extract my opinion on Exy for your shitty magazine, didn’t you?”

She finished her mouthful, lifted her napkin to wipe her mouth and settled back in her chair, taking her time. “I did. It’s not, however, a shitty magazine. Think of it like the Vogue of the sports world: This is an Exy special.”

“And you wanted my opinion.”

“An abstract opinion.”

“Wymack.” Andrew held up one finger. “Danielle Wilds. Jean Moreau. Jeremy Knox.”

“Already being covered.”

“Then what’s the use for mine?”

“Abstract.” She reminded him. “Shortest goalie in Exy’s short history, and yet didn’t give a shit if strikers made fun of his height, shooting goals straight over your head.”

Andrew looked at her flatly.

“Or couldn’t you reach them?” She didn’t smile: She didn’t look smug. She did seem to be enjoying herself though.

“Do you want to keep your job?” He asked, after a moment of stretched silence.

She sighed. “Sorry. I’ll stop.”

He almost rolled his eyes.

“You’re welcome to call me a giraffe at any time, though.” She leaned over to rummage through her bag.

Andrew did roll his eyes. “I’m not immature.” He paused. “Empire State.”

She pursed her lips. “Funny.”

There was a thin folder slid across the table: She picked her fork up and continued to eat.

He flicked open the folder: It was a basic questionnaire. He looked back up.

“Figured you’d rather not talk so much. Write out your answers to all of those, and it should be enough for me to fill a page.”

“It’s quite a few.”

She gave him a flat look. “You rather I stretch things and fill the page with bullshit?”

Andrew noted the last question: Is there any presence of Exy left in your life now?

He could work with this.

He nodded: “I’ll give it over to you tomorrow.”

“You can email it, here, I should have written it at the bottom --”

He stood up with the folder, finished his glass of water. “You’re paying.”

She watched him go.

Is there any presence of Exy left in your life now?

It’d be hard to avoid, when your husband’s in the professional league. Josten’s team’s jerseys aren’t warm, or comfortable, so I usually wear his old Palmetto State hoodie. Up your standards, Sprinters. Deplorable.

“Oh.”

Karter grinned. Neil Josten had his arms crossed, unimpressed with anything this early in the morning. Andrew -- it felt weird to refer to him as anything but his first name, despite not being on a first name basis -- was watching the tendrils of smoke curl from one end of his cigarette, hanging loosely from between two fingers. Neil glanced at him and saw it’s dying embers, stealing it to take a drag and slotted it neatly back into where it’d been.

Professional athletes shouldn’t be smoking.

“Well, thank you.” Chris decided that was appropriate, but she was internally screaming. This was the biggest -- the biggest -- thing she could imagine, hope and dream for. Not only coming out, but a secure relationship status?

She didn’t stare at the two tiny men, who could probably both snap her in half, who had two cats and a home and probably sat in the quiet together, sharing cigarettes and talking about anything other than Exy. She didn’t stare.

“There’s plenty for me to work with here.” She nodded.

Neil nodded. Andrew’s gaze flitted briefly from the cigarette to Chris, and then to Neil. And then back to the cigarette.

“No problem.” Neil said, voice quiet.

“Tie it off with me, Neil?” Karter offered. Chris wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but they wandered off together.

“I don’t want to deal with them.” Andrew said. Chris glanced at him.

“I’ll keep as much of the press of your back as I can. It should die down eventually.”

“That’s all I ask.” His head tipped to the side. “Will it affect his career?”

“Hasn’t affected his performance, has it?” Chris shrugged. “He’ll probably lose some rednecks, but that’s probably a good thing.”

Andrew said nothing.

“Who proposed? Am I allowed to ask that?”

“No.” He said, coldly. “You are no more than acquaintance.”

“Oh, of course.” Chris promised. “Was it during college?”

He remained an emotionless slate. Chris was good at reading people, but not if there wasn’t anything to read. Not as of yet. Unless he wasn’t joking about the whole acquaintance thing.

“It was. Cute.”

“Don’t.”

She smothered a grin.

“Was he a good father?”

The grin fell. “Way to darken the mood, Minyard.”

“I have no emotions.” He said. “Was he?”

“Not my birth father.” She smiled. “Adoptive, however. Was good to me, even after his wife died. I was all her idea: I thought I’d be cast aside when she was gone, and when all the rush died down. Wasn’t, though. I was lucky.”

Another moment of silence.

“The sexual tension between you and your boytoy is almost intolerable.” He decided. “Act on that.”

She frowned. “He thinks I’m gay. And dating a coworker is never a good idea.”

“Not my problem, Lauyier. Just fix it by the time I see you again.”

“So we’re seeing each other again?”

He glared. “When’s your flight?”

She checked her phone. “10 minutes till check-in. Did you feed the cats breakfast before you left?”

Andrew stalked off. Chris allowed herself to laugh, just a little.

“Where the fuck is Lauyier’s article? The magazine is going to be printed in two days.”

“Tomorrow morning.” Karter said, calmly. He checked his watch: Half an hour till he could clock out, and then he’d asked Chris to give him an hour and a half to get ready, fill up his car with gas and swing by her place.

Dinner down on the Chicago river. It was going to be nice.

Karter had been in denial, and thinking Chris was gay had been a good mechanism. Turns out: He was wrong, and that was currently working in his favour.

“Why is she handing it in so late? In fact -- why is she handing it in with you? What’s so special about the two of you?”

Karter’s supervisor had no right to be snitching about Chris’ due dates, when she wasn’t Chris’ supervisor. Karter looked at her over the rim of his glasses. “That’s for me to know, and you to stop pestering me about.”

“I’ve had it up to here --” She motioned above her head. “With you.”

“Shame you're only the substitute supervisor: you can’t fire me.” Karter turned back around and started popping his fingers.

“I can, and I will.” She snarled, stomping away.

Maybe she didn’t deserve all the shit Karter gave her. Maybe only some of it.

He relaxed in his chair. They’d had a handful of editors look over each of their featuring articles, but it’d remained hush-hush. Karter was both looking forward to when it was released, and what it’d amount to for his career, but also remembered watching Neil and Andrew’s quiet: Their small, impenetrable space. It was about to be blown to pieces on Wednesday, when they would be meeting with Neil and Andrew after his game in New York, to plan the announcement. Wednesday evening they would post a cryptic photo with wedding rings and black-and-white filters, and Thursday RUN would be released.

It would go smoothly. Karter would make sure of it.

Something hit his chair, and he cracked an eye open.

And smiled.

“Hello.”

Chris was scowling, and kicked his chair again. “What should I wear?”

“I don’t know, Chris.”

“Is it a fancy restaurant?”

“Look it up?”

She huffed.

“Wear whatever you want, honey.”

“Call me that, and I’ll castrate you.” She stalked off.

“You’re sounding more and more like Minyard everyday, Lauyier!” Karter yelled after her. “Sounds like you two are getting even more buddy-buddy after every phone call!”

The distant “Fuck off!” made him grin wider.

A voice from the next cubicle over said: “Gross, Guess. She’s like a foot taller than him, and they’re both brick walls. They’re a match made in hell.”

Karter only laughed.

sufficient??? let me know :D

#andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #dan wilds #the foxhole court #professor!au #all for the game #andrew makes FRIENDS #and is denial about being in LOVE #will hopefully not take as long on the next part #there were a loooooot of hiccups with this part oops #also: featuring a straight relationship #what?? didnt think id write about that again #oops #jem writes