#Wymack (half awake): What did you do

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 22

PREVIOUS

Y’know how sometimes you have something that you need to do or something that you know is going to happen but you just keep…putting it off? Like you know at some point it is going to happen but you put it off over and over and over and over again? You’re getting increasingly anxious every time you put it off because you know it has to get done but you also know that the longer you wait the worse it is going to get. Finally, FINALLY, the anxiety is just a little too much and you end up having to deal with it.

You finally deal with it and the whole ordeal takes maybe five minutes tops and it was in no way shape or form worth the level of anxiety that you put yourself through. Like you worried about this for a good and long while and it wasn’t even that bad?

That is currently how FF feels about being stabbed by Andrew Minyard.

This is what he was so worried about that he had lost sleep, had nightmares, had lost weight, and had exacerbated his stress ulcers over.

Getting stabbed wasn’t anywhere near as bad as he had thought it was going to be. Maybe it was the fact that it was just a single stab wound instead of the Psycho levels that he had been imagining (Wow, showers were going to be so much less stressful now that he didn’t have to confirm Andrew Minyard’s location before triple checking the lock). Maybe it was the fact that he is PUMPED full of adrenaline from his fights against Jackson and Romero but the stab wound didn’t even really hurt at the moment.

This isn’t even the worse thing that had happened to him this year!

That honor still goes to the joint winners of when his Step Family and mother found out that he had a full-ride to Palmetto and when he had tripped up the same step on the stairs at school three times in a row as people watched and laughed.

(Maybe also the solitary congratulations from his Grandma in regards to his graduation but FF doesn’t let himself think about that, won’t think about it.)

He wouldn’t necessarily call being in a state of ‘stabbed’ a pleasant time but Andrew was being so NICE about it.

“Stop trying to sit up you fucking idiot!” Andrew shouts at him.

Well….Andrew’s version of nice.

(This is the same version of nice that he had misunderstood for months at this point. Maybe FF is just enough in shock from the stab wound in his stomach that he’s starting to grasp the basics in the difficult language of Andrew Minyard’s niceness.)

Andrew had gotten off the phone with 911 and then started pulling off his own jacket before draping it over FF’s upper body, wedging his phone between his shoulder and his ear, and then Andrew started to apply pressure to his stomach wound.

Ow.

That is not a great feeling. This stabbing may eke out past the great triple trip of March 2010.

“No, take back your jacket. You’ll get cold if you don’t have it on.” FF argues because his own jacket is barely doing the job. Maybe it’s the cold pavement of the alley, maybe it’s the blood loss, or maybe it’s the cooling sweat he’d worked up but he is shivering pretty badly.

A thought occurs to him as he feels the weird wet stickiness of his own blood sticking to Nicky’s shirt. “Can you help me get my jacket off?” He asks looking pleadingly at Andrew, “It’s my dad’s. I don’t wanna mess it up with my blood.” He clarifies when Andrew looks at him like he’s a lunatic.

Except his second call must connect right then because Andrew’s answer is non-sensical to what FF had asked, “Neil, let Roland know the police and ambulances are en route.” There’s a brief pause and the pressure against his stomach increases as a muscle in Andrew’s jaw jumps. “Smith got stabbed.” He says and he looks angry, angrier than FF had ever seen Andrew when he’s talking to Captain Neil. There is another pause, more than likely Neil saying something or asking a question, “No, it wasn’t them.” Andrew grits out and the pressure on FF’s stomach hurts, “Just get out here, I need help with smith and making sure these two assholes don’t go anywhere before the police come and grab them.” He says before he pulls one hand away from Smith’s stomach (wow he really is bleeding isn’t he?) to hang up the phone.

Andrew’s gaze turns back to him fully, “You’re not moving an inch Smith, your jacket can be cleaned.” He hisses. “Now stay still and don’t fall asleep.” He orders.

Andrew seems stressed so FF complies. He can’t help but notice how Andrew’s hands seem to be shaking as the press down on his stomach. He kind of wishes he had a pillow or something for his head because he’s starting to feel a little dizzy. Andrew’s jacket would be safer from his blood if it was a pillow instead of a blanket. Still, FF would sooner die than spit on any of Andrew’s current efforts to make him more comfortable.

He looks at the knife sticking out of his stomach. Well, he might die regardless of whether or not he spits on Andrew’s efforts.

He needs to take his mind off this.

“Should we take it out and pretend the Dundee knife stabbed me instead??” FF asks letting his mind go to the first thought in his head so that he could be distracted from his own mortality. “I think it’s still under the dumpster over there.” He moves to point one of his hands towards where the knife had remained throughout this entire ordeal.

Andrew’s knee pinned his arm before he could move it, “Stop moving Smith.” Andrew reminded him before moving his knee. “We have to leave the knife in. You’ll bleed to death otherwise.” Andrew reminds.

“I guess that’s true, so do we just say that Romero got a handle on your knife and stabbed me?” He asks fighting his own shivers since he’s a little worried that any shaking on his part would just make the stab wound worse.

“I stabbed you Smith.” Andrew says looking at him with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I know,” FF agrees, “but we’re not going to say THAT to the cops.” He says and shock really is one HELL of a drug because he thinks he might have actually given Andrew Minyard an incredulous look with his atrophied face muscles. It’s either Shock or the knowledge that even if he irritates Andrew, what’s Andrew going to do about it?

STAB HIM?

“You’re going to lie to the cops?” Andrew asks, “I STABBED you Smith.” Andrew repeats.

“Yeah, I know!” FF repeats back, “You stabbed me on ACCIDENT.” FF makes sure to use the same intonation that Andrew had used to emphasize the word Stabbed. “Jackson wanted to stab me on PURPOSE. You saw that knife Andrew.” He tries to gesture towards the knife again but again Andrew’s knee pinned his hand.

He could use his other one but the reminder to stay still is enough.

“I still stabbed you.” Andrew says removing his knee again when it’s clear that FF wasn’t going to try and gesture again.

“Well, if I was going to get stabbed by anyone, I guess I’m glad my first time was with you.” Andrew let’s out a bark of a laugh that sounds more like it was punched out of him than anything, “Honestly, I don’t think Jackson would have given me his jacket afterwards or try and help me keep my blood in my body.” He says and it feels like a victory (not a both hands in the air victory cry level victory but it was close) when Andrew’s face settled into one of faint amusement.

“Probably not.” Andrew agreed, “He doesn’t seem big on Aftercare.” He says.

FF doesn’t know what that means but nods like he does, “So, Romero got a hold of your knife during our tussle and he’s the one who stabbed me. Okay? That’s the story I’m going to stick with no matter who asks me.” He looks Andrew in the eye.

“Alright Smith,” one of Andrew’s hands leaves his stomach and clasps around his shoulder and FF can’t help but notice how neither of Andrew’s hands are shaking anymore. “We can lie to the police.” He squeezes FF’s shoulder.

“Nice.” He says and lets his head fall back onto the concrete. He hears a siren in the distance and hopes it’s coming for him.

They sit in silence for maybe 30 seconds before the door slams open and only Andrew’s hands on his stomach and shoulder keep him from shooting straight up in a panic. Captain Neil seemed to take in the scene at lightning speed but it was Andrew who spoke first, “You left Aaron and Nicky with Roland?” He asks.

“Yeah I did,” Captain Neil confirms and FF can see the moment that his eyes land on the knife handle jutting out of FF’s stomach, “Andrew, what are we going to tell the police?” Captain Neil asks and FF could already see Neil crafting a lie to cover Andrew. That’s one of the things that FF likes about Captain Neil and Andrew’s relationship. He thinks it’s nice that both of them have someone who no matter the circumstances would be there with a shovel to help bury a body. He even thought it was nice when he thought it’d be his body!

“The second guy stabbed me.” The lie comes out smoothly which is good because he is planning on committing to it and Captain Neil blinks and looks at him, “He got hold of Andrew’s knife during the tussle.” He adds.

Captain Neil looks to Andrew, “You said it wasn’t-“

“I guess Smith can lie to a liar.” Andrew interrupts.

Captain Neil’s eyes widen before a wicked grin spread across his face that made FF just a little uncomfortable but only because Andrew’s grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened and his nostrils flared the way they did before the two usually started speaking in Russian.

He can handle being stabbed, he cannot handle being in shock and pretending that he doesn’t know what the two of them are saying to one another.

“Can you tell Nicky I’m sorry I got blood on his clothes?” He asks and both Captain Neil and Andrew’s gaze snap away from eye-fucking each other. He looks down and the clothes are black and they haven’t moved the knife so the wound is plugged still but yeah there’s definitely blood seeping into the shirt, not to mention the hole. “Could you tell him I’m sorry about that?” He asks.

“You are going to tell him yourself Smith.” Andrew hisses, “You are going to be fine. Do you understand me?” He asks before turning to Neil, “Can you bunch your jacket under his legs, it’s better to keep them higher than his head and heart?” He asks.

Aw.

Andrew is just so nice.

He can’t BELIEVE he thought Andrew wanted to hunt him for sport.

He’d apologize for thinking that but he thinks it’d be better to just let that particular misunderstanding go unmentioned.

Captain Neil bunches his jacket up and puts it under FF’s legs before he goes over to check on Romero and Jackson. In the corner of his eye he sees Captain Neil pause at the sight of Romero before moving over to Jackson.

“Why is he in these?!” Neil asks baffled.

“It’s a weird sex alley Captain Neil! I don’t know WHAT to tell you!” Yeah he’s definitely going into shock. The sirens are getting closer though so he’ll probably be okay.

***

The cops all have a bit of a laugh about Jackson’s cuffs until Neil tells them exactly who they are taking into custody. Neil could admit that he’s a little irritated with Andrew that at no point did the man clarify that the people who FF and Andrew were dealing with were Romero and Jackson.

Those are his father’s goons.

“They were here for me.” Neil says to the police officer and Andrew’s hand tightens in his, “They tried to take Smith because he’s my friend.”

They had decided on their story before the cops came. FF had no idea who any of these people were and was just defending himself. He’d gone out to catch his breath in the alley when Jackson had shown up. Neil had asked how in the world FF had handled Jackson on his own but FF must have been getting kind of loopy from blood loss because all he said was, “He told me to sing so I did.”

Neil can find out the full story later.

The important part is.

“Jackson went after Smith but Smith won the fight.” Neil says looking at where the cops are trying to decide how to get the fuzzy pink handcuffs off of Jackson to get him in the far more secure police issued handcuffs.

“Your friend said that you and he took out Romero together. That Romero is the one who stabbed him with your knife.” He says.

“Yes.” Andrew answers simply and Neil squeezes his hand as a reminder, “I went out to grab a smoke and Romero followed after me. Romero got hold of one of my knives in the struggle and stabbed Smith.” Andrew says with his usual deadpan affect.

“Yeah that’s what your friend Smith was saying too.” The officer says. “Well, I’m sure the FBI will want to talk to you all further but for now it’s a pretty clear cut case of self defense and no one but your friend has any serious injuries.” The officer pats Neil on the shoulder and Neil manages not to shirk away from the touch. The officer retracts his hand, “You guys are free to go tonight.” He says and turns back towards the car where a dazed Romero is in the back seat.

“Where did they take Smith?” Andrew asks since they’d been shepherded away from Smith the moment the ambulance had come. They hadn’t been able to ask which hospital Smith was going to be taken to so they could go and get updates.

“Lexington.” The cop answers, “Go on and see your friend. He seemed pretty loopy he kept talking about some beauty contest thing when he was getting loaded into the ambulance. I’m sure he’ll be a riot on painkillers.” The cop goes for a joke but it twists something in Neil’s stomach to think of FF so out of it that he’s talking nonsensically.

He feels Andrew’s hand stiffen in his and knows he’s not alone.

“Thanks.” Neil says before they head towards the front of the club. The club had been emptied out when the cops had come so Roland was babysitting Aaron and Nicky for them while they talked to the cops and FF was loaded out to the hospital.

In a way it’s almost a blessing that Nicky and Aaron are both so blasted that they aren’t comprehending any of what’s going on. They’ll have to drop them off back at the house before they go to the hospital. They’ll beat Wymack there easily even after the interrogation and drop off.

FF had asked them to call Wymack to let him know what was going on “I gave him the rights to make health care decisions for me if I’m incapacitated.” FF had said so Neil texts Wymack the hospital and the address after Andrew rattles it off for him.

“I don’t like that you hid it from me.” Neil says in the car.

“They wanted to kill you.” Andrew won’t apologize.

They still hold hands on the drive back to the Columbia house.

Andrew takes care of getting Aaron into bed while Neil helps Nicky.

Nicky who looks at Neil with a loopy smile and Neil hurts knowing that tomorrow when Nicky finds out about tonight and how he was too blasted to do anything to help FF.

Andrew and Neil reconvene in the Maserati and make their way to the hospital before either of them realize the issue.

“What is the name of the patient you’re looking for an update on?” The receptionist asks.

Both Andrew and Neil freeze.

Fuck.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

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#Fluent Freshman AU #Andrew: Smith is in the hospital. #Wymack (half awake): What did you do #Andrew: He got stabbed #Wymack: I thought you LIKED Smith #Wymack: Whatever admit to nothing I'm on my way #Twenty minutes later Andrew gets a text informing him that Kevin is coming #Andrew: Great just great #FF is having the time of his life in the ambulance #They gave him something for his pain #FF: You get what I mean right? Like that was a funny line since it's about Miss Congeniality? #EMT: Now that I understand the context that's a solid joke #FF: THANK YOU. #FF: I can't BELIEVE none of those cops got it #FF: I was so glad you loaded me in here because I thought I was going to die of shame when no one laughed #EMT: Well we wouldn't want that #EMT: How's your pain by. the way buddy? #FF: Wow four friends in one night. I am on a ROLL. #AFTG #AFTG OC #AFTG Fic #Andreil #AFTG AU #My Fic #FF - Part 22

[otdiaftg]

It is half past seven, which means Wymack has been up for hours. Neil straddles one of the benches and calls him. Wymack answers on the second ring by saying, "I don't know what amazes me more: that your phone is actually turned on or that you're awake this early on a Saturday morning." "Coach, the changing room is clean." "Yeah, I know. Abby and I took care of it last night after you left." "I'm sorry," Neil says. "I was going to clean it this morning." "Didn't I tell you not to worry about it?" Wymack demands. "You told me not to deal with it yesterday," Neil says. "Whatever," Wymack says. "You can make it up to me later. Actually, what are you doing now that I've ruined your morning plans? Nothing?" He waits for Neil's affirmative and says, "You can sort through files with me instead. I'll lug them over and grab breakfast on the way. Or did you eat already?" "Not yet," Neil says. "I'll wait here." Wymack hangs up.

Day: Saturday, January 20th Time: 7:30 AM EST

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #tkm #the kings men #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #palmetto state university #psu foxes #andreil #on this day in aftg #otdiaftg #palmetto state foxes #otdi all for the game #nora sakavic #the foxes #on this day in all for the game #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #coach wymack #betsy dobson #abby winfield #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds

[cough-ii]

aftg as quote book pt 4 !!

“its just a silly little twerk of mine” - nicky

“i wouldn’t mind being called woke. im awake arent i?” neil/wymack

“enter hot take on kevin” *drops the mic, takes a bow* - neil

“Just a reminder we are HALF WAY THERE and we are LIVING ON A PRAYER” - renee @ games

“Led by you hoe” - Alison

“i physically cannot play with my balls in my bedroom” - neil?

“Fuckin this, fuck that fuck fuck fuck” - wymack

“Porn is a genre” - nicky

“Reading porn is better than not reading at all��� - nicky

“We are all bussin” - nicky

“Don’t shoot the prime minister…please” - everyone @ andrew

“He gave himself a DIY circumcision” - be creative

“I live under a rock. It;s very warm” - neil

“The only way youre getting out of maths this year is if you kill yourself” - neil

“Don’t kill yourself” - wymack

“Tomorrow we’re going to learn how to be better bullies :)” - dan

“I have nothing important to say ever” - aaron

“I am wrong in the head” - kevin

“Some people say lots of things to get off” - nicky

“It was such a delicious luxury to have a warm drink” - matt

‘I got my pussy waxed’ - alison

‘i feel so much better without my pants’ - matt

“neil you’re flirting” - dan “oops…” neil

“Impact on the victim… DEATH” - andrew

“Stop doing magic in class please” someone to andrew

“‘You look good enough to eat,’ Andrew Minyard had said, the first time he came to pick him (Neil) up. When they got home again he did begin to eat him”

“Hey hoe 💅” alison

“That is tighter than a fishes ass hole” - matt

“Are you ok you look like a drenched rat” - dan

“If I get your name wrong, blame your parents” -wymack

“I was on drugs I didn’t know what I was doing” andrew

“I have thousands of dollars to my name” neil

“why did you threaten me?” kevin “because i wanted to” neil

“Dragons have pronouns too” renee

“i very much enjoy getting renee wet” - Alison, dunking water on renee

“andrew is a crack up” - nicky probably almost got shanked for this

“talk dirty to me” andrew “What if I tied up all your hands and legs and then threw you down the stairs and you died, but we were friends who liked practical jokes, would that be murder?” neil

‘Who was humping the statue?’ - dan

“Little red riding hood in bed with the wolf” - Alison

“His eyes are penetrating you” kevin @ neil unironically

“There are a number of ways you can skin a cat” andrew when one of the cats piss on the bed

‘Just shake ur ass and no one will notice’ nicky

“Why is it always mother fucker this, mother fucker that? Why is it never father fucker” neil

“I’m very private with my fists” dan

“I had some guy in my car and he said ‘i want to commit suicide’ and i said ‘no, not in my car get out’” - twinyards

“Girls, you’re semi-hysterical” wymack

“I touched your boob im sorry” matt @ dan

“Not just jumping off the religious sculpture, they were humping the religious sculpture” - renee, traumatised

‘DANCE you idiot, D-A-N-S…’ - kevin

‘We’ll talk about the sex party another time’ dan

‘I have a gin and tonic every night, it keeps me young’ wymack

“I was in a rage and i broke his nose” neil ab kevin

“Some people need to be chemically castrated” andrew

“Don’t chew gum in front of Jesus” renee

“I’m hearing plenty of smashing noises over here” allison in the cabin

“Oh why don’t you crawl back into your hole” andrew @ neil

“Legalise recreational use of cannibalism” aaron in a presentation

“CMERE YOU LITTLE BOLLOCKS!” wymack

“Stabbing them 3 or 4 times is plenty” andrew

“My brother got dropped on his head” andrew

‘Comparing sizes’ nicky

‘Ive been stalking you all’ kevin

“Shit, Shit, SHIT, Oh my god, SHIT. That’s fucked” nicky

“She called him gay so i threw the chair at her” neil

“I’m gonna die” aaron “Don’t care.” neil

“Get help please” dan

“Young people’s music today, I just don’t get it” abby

“We all have the homosexual gene” andrew

“I’m not going to get you to go around class and looking if people have homosexual characteristics” andrew maybe

‘i saw this really big tombstone and i asked ‘is that where jesus was buried?’’ andrew @ renee

‘What if I worked 55 hours a day?’ matt?

“now that i’m your legal guardian i guess i should look after you” dan a/o matt @ neil

“lesbians are people too” neil

“Charisma test? caress my balls” nicky

“Do you want to do a quickie to de-stress” andrew

“If you are interested in any horizontal refreshment” andrew

“Spit on your hand and stroke my cock at a medium pace, play with my balls and tell me how big they are” (…….. i have second hand embarrassment) - allison

“Do you think Jesus had daddy issues?” alison

“We all get stressed sometimes but cursing is not fucking ok” dan

“I'm working, im twerking and im jerking” nicky

‘It’s a good kisser it’s so smooth and soft and warm’ neil ab his homework

#sorry this took 6 months #i lost my first draft #hope yalls enjoyed lmaooo #these had a lot of nicky potential #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #andreil #aftg incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #neil josten #andrew minyard #nicky hemmick #kevin day #alison reynolds #renee walker #dan wilds #matt boyd #david wymack #abby winfield #quotes #aaron minyard #aftg shitpost

[willowbird]

1 + 1 + 4 Renee/Dan if you do them

Grad school sic fic, in Abby's car! I've never tried Renee/Dan before but lemme give it a whirl!

---

"Oh no. No you don't. Not this again."

Renee jolted at the voice, her arms shooting out from where they'd become a pillow of convenience over the seemingly endless pile of grading she had been working on before her impromptu nap. Essays went flying, as did at least two pens and a small dish of paperclips.

"Mm what?" Renee closed her eyes, desperately tried to push back the throbbing steadily chiseling a tunnel through her cranium, and then opened them again to look blearily up at the speaker.

As soon as the other woman came into focus, Renee snapped awake like she'd just downed three back-to-back espresso shots.

"Dan! What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be covering Professor Wymack's lectures today?"

Dan's brown eyes narrowed. "Yes, and I have been. Dad's got a break before his 5:15 lecture, remember?"

Renee blinked, she frowned, then blearily dragged her gaze from Dan to the clock on the wall. It took several long moments for the little dashes and squiggles to assemble into numbers, then she was half-falling out of her chair in a scrambled attempt to launch to her feet.

"I'm late!" she gasped. "Shoot! Oh no, oh no no no.. I'm supposed to be in Professor Dobson's class right now!" The movement was too much, though, and the blood in her body was sluggish in keeping up with the rapid lurching of her limbs. Instead of emerging from the chair upright and jogging to the door (which had been the idea), Renee's head got suddenly very fuzzy, her vision doubled, and her knees went out from under her.

"Whoa!"

Why.. was the floor so soft and strong and supple and warm? That didn't quite add up. It was a tile floor with a couple of mismatched area rugs that were about as worn-through as the office chairs (that was to say, just about threadbare). It shouldn't be this comfortable, shouldn't make her instantly feel this supported, this safe. It shouldn't cradle her like--

"Jesus Christ, Renee you're burning up. That's it. I'm taking you home. Now."

Dan's voice snapped her out of the weird tangent her mind was going on. It also brought her back into her own body enough to realize that the reason why the floor had felt weird to her apparently fevered brain was because she wasn't on the floor at all - she was leaning against Dan. The other grad assistant had caught her on her way down and was holding her up, one strong arm around her waist and the other cupped under one of her elbows.

Gathering the last vestiges of her strength, Renee reclaimed her weight and shakily pushed away from Dan. "What? No. No, I'm okay," she attempted to insist. "It--"

"You are not," Dan countered, her tone stubborn and firm. Renee and Dan... did not always get along. Renee did her best to cover the tension with smiles and aggressive politeness, whereas Dan skipped the politeness and instead antagonized the tension even more by being brash and intelligent and so freaking beautiful, especially in tank tops like the one she was wearing today because they showed off the breadth of her shoulders and the swell of her muscles and--

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Dan's arm was around her again, fingers snapping in Renee's face - which was something that Renee absolutely loathed when people did.

Forgetting herself, Renee snarled.

"Don't fucking do that!" she snapped without thinking.

It was like all the air sucked out of the room. A tense, stunned silence bristled between them like static electricity - and it took really far too long for Renee's brain to catch up to her mouth. When she finally realized what she'd done, Renee pressed her eyes shut, prayed for patience, and then opened her mouth to attempt an apology. Maybe she was feeling a bit sick...

Before she could say anything, though, Dan barked out a sharp, deep laugh that had Renee's eyes blinking open in surprise.

"Hot damn! Did Good Girl Renee just swear at me?"

Unamused, Renee's wide-eyed surprised shifted smoothly into a glower.

Dan smirked cheekily back. "Come on, you. I'm driving you home. I've got Mom's car today, though, so you've got to warn me if you need to throw up."

Renee grimaced, but since she still needed to lean significantly on Dan as the other woman began leading them out of the room, she didn't really think she was in the position to protest. Instead, as they maneuvered slowly down the stairs toward the parking lot of Foxx Hall, she asked, "Why do you have Professor Winfield's car?"

"Mine is in the shop," Dan said with a weary sigh.

"Again?"

Another sigh, heavy with exasperation. "Yes. My shithead little brother borrowed it over the weekend to go to his friend's house and somehow blew out both driver's side tires."

Renee chuckled in spite of herself. Her limbs were so heavy, her head impossible to keep up. She didn't mean to, but somewhere between the stairwell and the sidewalk she'd propped her head on Dan's shoulder.

"Hey, come on now." Dan's voice was soft. It was so warm, too. A little raspy, but with a steady glow - like a strong hearth, warming a home from its heart. "Stay with me, Renee. You can sleep when you get home. This is what you get for overworking yourself you know. You always push yourself too hard."

Renee didn't really know what to say to that, and by the time she'd finished actually computing all the words they were already at the car. Dan settled her into the front seat, even going so far as to lean in and buckle her seat belt. This seemed so strange, so right and so wrong at the same time, that Renee frowned and managed to lift her hand, tugging on Dan's sleeve before she could completely pull away.

"You can't stand me," she reminded the other woman. They worked together when they absolutely had to, sure - they were grown adults who could be civil in the workplace even with people they didn't get along with - but Dan had made it very clear from day one that she was not Renee's number one fan. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Dan looked startled for a moment, and the surprise smoothed out her face, widening her eyes so that Renee could see past those criminally long lashes to see the specks of bronze hidden in the deep brown of her irises. The moment didn't last long, and Dan signed, fixing Renee with a stern look.

"Of course not," she confirmed. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to just let you suffer. I'm an anthropologist not a monster."

Renee chuckled. "Fair. Mm. Thank you, Dan. It's nice."

"Sure, sure," Dan rumbled quietly, then shut the door.

Renee didn't quite remember giving Dan her address, or really most of the car ride. She just kept thinking about Dan, and how nice she smelled. How strong she was. How pretty her eyes were and how she rather wished Dan would smile at her the way she smiled at the other members of their department. She wasn't sure why Dan hated her, but maybe if she could figure it out and fix it, they could be friends. Or at least more friendly. She liked when Dan was friendly to her. It was a warm, good feeling. Warm, like Dan's eyes. And her laugh. And--

"Okay here we go! Keys! Got your keys?! I bet you have your keys, right?!"

Renee blinked, then she frowned, sitting up a bit and looking around. The car was parked at her building and Dan was sitting straight-backed in the driver's seat, her hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel.

"Dan?" Renee's voice came out a little mumble and dry. She had to swallow a few times to wet her throat. "What's wrong?"

Dan looked at her, eyes still a bit wide. Her mouth opened and closed a few times. Then she said, "You mean you don't-- you just-- I... nevermind. Yes. I'm fine. You're feverish and delirious and... let's just... I need to get you in bed. TO BED. Into. Your own bed. Without me. You're sick and delirious with fever."

Renee raised her eyebrows. "What?"

Without saying another word, Dan got out of the car, the door shutting loudly behind her. For a moment Renee thought Dan was going to leave her there, but that was ridiculous, because this was Professor Winfield's car - Dan wad going to need it to get back to campus and get home.

Before she'd even finished that fever target though, her own door was opening with Dan there to fetch her. Renee managed to unbuckle her own belt, but she had to let Dan help her out of the car. She passed the other woman her keys and directed them up to her third floor apartment, where Dan effortlessly got her not only all the way upstairs, but into the apartment and to her room.

"Someone will check in with you tomorrow but don't you dare come to campus you hear me? You take a few days, let your fever go down at least," Dan chided her as she very sternly tucked the covers in around her.

Surrounded by her own bed, though, Renee was already fading, sinking toward a sleep deep enough to banish her fever. Which was probably why she dropped right into a bizarre dream where Dan stayed, and put water on her bedside table and then sat on the edge of the bed stroking her hair. It was a dream, definitely, that before Dan finally left an indeterminate amount of time later, she leaned down and very gently brushed her lips against Renee's forehead. It had to be a dream, right? Because Dan.. Dan hated Renee.

Didn't she?

#aftg #aftg fanfic #aftg prompt game #dan wilds #renee walker #dan wilds x renee walker #danee? #sick fic #college au

[go-foxes]

Location: Fox Tower Date: Thursday, Dec 3rd Time: Early, Before Practice (open​)

For her birthday, Indigo has the dubious honor of being woken up—as she is most mornings—by her alarm blaring at some truly godforaken hour of the morning. (And then blaring again, as she treats herself to a snooze. And then one extra because, again, birthday.) They’ve got just two games left in their season and no chance of making it to the Championships, but they’ve still got practice. It’s Indigo’s birthday, but she’s still got fucking practice. 

She’s glad to be back at Palmetto after Thanksgiving—(after a few years, dorms feel more like home than, well, a whole-ass Architectural Digest house)—but the week away seemed to just take the wind out of the sails of this last little bit of the season. What’s the fucking point? The Foxes will play two more games and, if precedent is any indication, will lose two more games, and then they’ll do nothing for a whole fucking semester. Grayson will graduate, some new freshmen will show up, maybe some transfers if Wymack feels like keeping things interesting, and they’ll do it all over again.

She won’t be a story, then. It won’t be Indigo Hayes, making her debut at striker. She’ll be overshadowed by whoever is newest or the most traumatized, until she does something that makes everyone really mad: starts another fight, gets another card. Not that she really felt like she had the spotlight this season—that was all Casey and Olivia. Fuck, they cared more about the missing Bryce than they did about her.

Which is kind of a fucking bummer. She’s probably not going to be this interesting—(in a sportswriter, college-Exy-narrative sense, because she’s always fucking interesting)—again. 

Except, maybe, if she gets a red card and makes them throw the fucking game. Then they’ll be talking about Indigo Hayes. Though that, admittedly, is an idea that sounds best before 6AM, when she’s half-awake and angry about it, especially when it is—once again—her motherfucking birthday. 

"Hey, what do you say you tell Wymack it’s my birthday, and I go back to sleep?” It’s an empty threat: here she is, with her eyes open and her gym bag on her shoulder, her dorm room door closing behind her. But complaining is an Indigo Hayes specialty, and she’s not going to pass up the opportunity. “You think he’d go for that?” 

#foxesstart #INDIGO. #INDIGO: INTERACTION

[not-until-tuesday]

AFTG Headcanon

so someone had bought strawberries and that had caused Neil to realise that he had never had strawberries before

there wasn't really a reason for that but he'd just never had them

so after he'd gone on a run he decided to add them to his breakfast which was literally just a bunch of different fruit

he cut them up, put them in the bowl, and started his breakfast like any other day

Andrew came in half way through and started on their coffee

it was when he'd finished he started to feel the tightening of his throat

the first thing his mind went to was a panic attack but he didn't feel any of the mental effects of it

them he remembered

he had had strawberries before

he'd just blocked that memory from ever coming to light because there's no goddamn way he was going to admit the closest he'd come to death was a fucking strawberry

he then realised that he didn't have anything to stop it

"Andrew, I need the- the- fuck, you know- the needle to stood allergic reactions"

Andrew looked at him blankly before his eyebrows furrowed

"for what"

"an allergic reaction"

"to what, dumbass, what's giving you the allergic reaction"

Andrew was already grabbing his keys and putting on his shoes

"strawberries"

Andrew nearly went to ask why the fuck he ate them if he knew he was allergic to them but decided that was a conversation for afterwards

they both quickly got their shoes on and on their way out Andrew grabbed Aaron

"make sure he doesn't die on the way to the hospital"

"why"

"allergic reaction to strawberries"

at this point Neil was beginning to wheeze slightly

Andrew drove quickly but the reaction was quicker and much more severe than any of them expected it to be or had experienced before

Neil was beginning to choke and could hardly get a breath in, one hand was struggling at his neck and the other at the car, finding something to hold onto as if it would help

"Aaron, help him"

"what the fuck do you want me to do?! there's nothing I can do!"

Andrew broke every law possible to get to the hospital, the only background noise being Neil's horrible wheezes and failed breaths

he yanked Neil from the car and carried him in, Aaron speeding ahead to get the hospital staff's attention

Aaron then had to hold Andrew back as they whisked Neil away

they sat quietly and restlessly in the waiting area, Andrew doing absolutely nothing while Aaron called Abby and wymack and eventually just texting their fox group chat of the situation

a nurse eventually came out and led them back to Neil

"it was a very bad reaction. we're going to keep him here to make sure he gets the right medication in case this happens again. this medication will most likely just slow the reaction down so if he ever eats a strawberry again, bring him straight back, ok?"

Andrew didn't reply but Aaron hustled her for more information

when they entered the room he was awake but looked exhausted

"why did you fucking eat it if you knew you'd have an allergic reaction to it?"

"I forgot"

Andrew looked at him, unimpressed

"out of everything that could have killed you it was nearly a fucking strawberry"

Neil let out a wheezy laugh

"wouldn't be the first time"

Andrews eyebrow quirked and the story of his first allergic reaction came to light

#aftg #all for the game #aftg headcanon #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #allergic reaction

[jemej3m]

incarnate (p3)

Hheeere uuu goooooooo (OooOoooooOOooOOoOooO) - p2

*

Andrew rocked up to the weekly gathering, basically in his pyjamas. Neither him nor Kevin were early risers, but Kevin had the gall to actually come to these things appropriately dressed. 

Andrew had just chucked a sweater over his t-shirt, tucked his pyjama pants into boots, yanked a beanie over his head and shuffled into his overcoat. Erik and Nicky - who lived in the second bedroom of their apartment - didn’t look much more presentable than he did, slomping around like zombies until they’d knocked back some coffee. 

Why Wymack and Dan held these gatherings at sunrise was beyond Andrew. He hated every single fucking time the little fox dropped off the acorn message at their door. How the fox even managed to get inside the building without triggering security was a wonder in itself. Andrew couldn’t wait to move out into a house. 

They’d all crammed into the car, revved up the engine way too loud for almost five in the morning, and cruised till they arrived to the edge of town. 

They all trudged through the forest till they’d arrived at the clearing where Palmetto held all their most powerful rituals and flamboyant gatherings. It also happened to be where Andrew had summoned the demon - Neil - maybe two weeks ago. 

He still had no idea what he wanted from the thing. He didn’t want anything, really. He’d never wanted anything. 

Andrew lit a cigarette when they arrived to the clearing, waiting for the others to show up. Renee, Dan and Allison were already there: Renee, smiling like an angel, Allison, looking like a god-send and Dan acting like she owned the place, formally greeting the others upon their arrival. 

Renee sidled up to Andrew, nudging their shoulders. “Something’s changed about your aura. Something lighter.”

Odd. He would have thought a demon summoning would’ve put a blemish on his soul, or whatever bullshit Renee actually bought into. He just shrugged. 

“The whole place seems a little different, really.” Renee said. “Like its recovering from something big. You wouldn’t have been here recently, would you?”

“Everyone hangs around here.” He said flatly. “We’re a bunch of witches and this is the coven’s gathering circle.”

“Of course.” Renee said easily. “It could have been any one of us. It’s definitely not Kevin, though. He looks far too guilty.”

Andrew’s gaze travelled across to where Kevin was mulling about the exact spot Neil had appeared the first time. Andrew muttered angrily under his breath and stalked over, dragging Kevin by the arm. 

“Hey!” Kevin complained. “I was just checking -” 

“Shut it.” Andrew hissed. “Fuck this up and I’ll tell everyone exactly who hexed the coven in an attempt to get rid of his tattoo and ended up giving everyone shitty tramp stamps. We clear?”

Kevin gulped. “Crystal.” 

The recognisable footsteps of Wymack were heard by everyone: They all stood to the clearing’s edge as he arrived, flanked by Abby and Bee. Bee smiled at Andrew warmly and tapped her wrist ( “Talk later?” ). Andrew rolled his eyes and nodded. 

“Boyd and the neophyte will get here soon.”  Wymack said gruffly, brushing himself off. A twig was still stuck out of his hair and Abby plucked it out fondly. “Yes, that’s why I’ve called you all here. We’re initiating a witch into the Palmetto coven this morning.” 

Two sets of footsteps neared the clearing. One set familiar - heavy and rhythmic, like Boyd’s heart rate - and the other flighty and nervous. As they appeared, Andrew’s heart bottomed out into his stomach. 

“Neil Josten.” Wymack gestured for him to step forward. “Welcome to the Palmetto coven.” 

Neil nodded gently, eyes scouring the circle that greeted him. He looked human - the scars on his face and arms were gone, and his eyes were a normal (still devilishly gorgeous) shape and shade of blue. When his eyes flit to Andrew and Kevin, he had to stifle the hints of a grin. 

“Step into the centre: everyone else, join hands.” Wymack instructed. Andrew hated this part of the initiation, twisting his fingers with Renee’s and Kevin’s. Everyone’s energy flowed freely between them. He could feel the valliant leadership from Dan, Allison’s lures and illusions, Bee’s soothing calm, Abby’s healing tisanes, clarity and forgiveness from Renee, strength and loyalty from Matt, Kevin’s logic and perfection, Nicky’s boisterousness and sunshine and Erik’s curiosity and perseverance. 

When Neil bowed his head, they all took a startled step back. Of course it’d be something unlike any of them had ever witnessed: Neil was a creature of pure magic. Not like humans, who were poor conductors at best. His power glossed over Andrew’s skin like gold dust and he opened his eyes. 

Neil’s glamours had held up, but they wouldn’t be good enough for Renee and Bee. Regardless, they both smiled and went to Neil to welcome him alongside the rest of the coven. He looked lost and somewhat uncomfortable with all their friendly introductions, looking frantically from witch to witch. 

Andrew kept back: Kevin did too. Wymack glanced to them only once, shaking his head. 

“He’s so strong.” Kevin murmured. “He could - Andrew, he could teach us stuff! Will you ask him to?”

“Like I’m going to waste my one wish on your needless pursuits for knowledge.” Andrew muttered, letting his head fall to one side. Even Kevin’s rattling couldn’t distract him from the way Neil’s eyelashes fanned out across his cheeks, the way the tip of his nose curved perfectly to his lips. 

Andrew would never ask for that. There was no consent in magically inclined bindings. But so long as he could appreciate from afar, it wouldn’t be a problem. 

Oh, how Andrew hadn’t had a clue. 

*

three moon cycles later 

“It’s the fall equinox, it’s the fall equinox!” Neil crowed, sitting on Andrew’s dresser with his ankles crossed and rapping against the wooden surface with his knuckles. “Wake up, morons. Is that an appropriate insult? I’m still not very good with insults. Although I have decided that you humans are rather feeble: Almost pathetic. So maybe dweebs is a better term?”

Andrew blinked awake blearily, not realising he’d set a hyper-active demon to go off at six o’clock in the morning rather than his usual Kevin-Day-Getting-Bored-And-Wanting-To-Research-Or-Practise alarm. 

“How’d you get in here?”  Kevin said, waving his hands around in a futile effort to block the rays of sun that peered through the window: Neil, the little bastard, had opened the curtains. “Andrew, didn’t we set up protective wards?”

“Neil’s a part of the coven.” Andrew muttered. “He can bypass them. He’s been bypassing them for two and a half months now.”

“Who decided it’d be a good idea to bring a demon into the coven?”

“Matt’s.”

“To be fair, he still doesn’t know.” Neil chirped. “And I’m right here: I can hear everything you two are say. And some things you aren’t saying.”

Kevin sat up, shirtless and still half asleep. “What, you can read minds now?”

“I’ve always been able to read everyone’s intentions and emotions.” Neil corrected him. “It’s rather necessary for one’s survival. I’d teach you how to block it, but that wouldn’t be any fun.” 

“You’re the worst.” Kevin groused, stumbling to his feet and disappearing into the bathroom. 

Andrew finally sat up and checked his arm-bands were there, pulling a hoodie that’d been stuffed between his bed and the wall over his head. Neil watched him with his head cocked to the side. Andrew didn’t care. It’d been three months of having a pet demon and Andrew really couldn’t care less about the five-foot-three nuisance. 

“I lied before.” Neil said, softly. He was still sitting atop of Andrew’s dresser, effectively blocking Andrew from grabbing a clean pair of boxers. “I can read everyone’s intentions and emotions - except yours.”

“Now that’s some Twilight bullshit.” Andrew grunted, checking over his plants with careful fingertips. “Do you glitter in the sun, too?”

“I hate it when you make pop-culture references.” He complained. “I never understand them.” 

“Forget it. Why can’t you read me?”

He shrugged. “Most demons back home are very good at concealing themselves, but humans have never been. Renee is also practised, as is Bee, but your soul is far more intricately protected.”

Andrew closed his eyes momentarily. “It needs to be.”

“Right.” Neil said, unconvinced. “I just hope you’re not constricting yourself in the process.”

Andrew flipped him off. 

“What? I’m just making observations.”

“Well, make your observations elsewhere. I need to get to my drawers.”

Neil, in a rare moment of complacency, did as he was told. He sat on the edge of Andrew’s bed instead and leaned forward. “Have you thought about what you want from me?”

Andrew ignored him. 

“Because it’s the fall equinox, and I can draw a lot of power tonight. I should use it to escape.” Neil admitted. 

Andrew slowly turned. “What?”

Neil looked up at him from under his curly fringe. He’d let loose his glamour again - fuck, those eyes got Andrew every damned time - and he hadn’t really cut his hair for however long he’d been here. It was getting ridiculously long. Andrew wanted to run his fingers through it. 

“I can’t stay.” He said. “My father will find me. He’ll break into this realm somehow and ruin everything. I have to leave before he does.” 

“Fuck that. You’re not going anywhere.” 

Neil looked back down at his hands. They shook slightly: He balled them in his trousers, a pair ratty pair of jeans. Andrew crouched in front of him. 

“Neil,” He said. “I have the journal. I have you. If he wants to cause trouble, I’ll send him to Hell’s ninth fucking circle, got it? You’re staying.” 

“But -” He tried. 

“No.” Andrew reached out to pinch his lips shut. “Quiet, before you say something ludicrous. Stay out of trouble and I’ll watch your back. Clear?” 

Neil’s lips fought free of Andrew’s fingertips to smile, a small thing that was so reserved but unrepentant all the same. Andrew hated it. “Crystal.”

*

#andreil #witch!andrew #demon!neil #someone kick me its going to get angsty #i promised myself it wouldnt and i failed #all for the game #fantasy au #magic au #neil josten #andrew minyard #spooktober au #jem writes

[aelysalthea]

The Secret Lives of Neil Josten

Summary: Neil's life has been a mystery for so long that it was all but expected that a sliver of unexpectedness would reveal itself to the Foxes on occasion. Sometimes it wasn't as unexpected as it perhaps should have been - but sometimes it most definitely was.

Rating: T

Chapter 1: Nicky’s Taste in Music

"… have no idea how my shit gets so all over the place," Nicky said into his phone, shaking his head as he shuffled along Matt's TV cabinet. Tipping his head sideways, he frowned before plucking another DVD case from the collection. His. He was pretty sure it was his. "Seriously, I don't even remember bringing this in here."

"Are you sure it's even yours?" A yawn chased the end of Erik's words, a testimony to the time difference between them. Eyeing the case in his hand – yes, it was definitely his – Nicky considered offering to hang up once more only to disregard the idea. Erik was a morning person, but he always clung to wakefulness to speak to Nicky after he'd finished his classes for the day.

"I'm sure," Nicky said. Shaking his head, he muttered more to himself than to Erik, "hell, Matt, keep tabs on your own junk and your paws off mine."

He wasn't really annoyed. More correctly, it had been a long day that was only just coming to a close, and Nicky was thoroughly sick and tired of packing. Or, even more correctly, tired of searching for his far-flung possessions. He'd never realised just how deeply he embedded himself in Fox Tower until the end of term and the inevitable clean-up came around.

It would be worth it, though. Catching a plane the next day, for the first time in years entirely by himself – it would be worth putting in the hours. In spite of his disgruntlement for Matt's oblivious thievery, Nicky couldn't help but smile at the very thought.

Piling the stack of retrieved DVD cases into his arms, Nicky rose from his knees to weave his way back across Matt and Aaron's room. What would be his room next year too if Wymack's idea took root. It would be strange not living in the same suite as Andrew, strange to the point of disconcerting, but Nicky was kind of excited for it. Andrew was better these days than he'd been on his meds, but even so, it made the prospect of yet another year at university that much more appealing.

"How's it coming along?" Erik asked sleepily as Nicky paused alongside the kitchen. Was that his mug? How the fuck had his mug gotten into Matt's room? Probably by way of Aaron, but still. Dammit, Matt. If he wasn't so nice to look at, Nicky might even resent him for it sometimes.

"I've got two suitcases packed already," Nicky said, juggling his DVDs as he struggled to hook the handle of the mug onto his pinkie finger. Fucking hell, it was dirty too. Damn Aaron too for being a slob.

"So you're nearly done?"

"Are you kidding me? I'm not even halfway yet. I've literally spent the last hour in Matt and Aaron's rooms."

Erik laughed, a dopey little sound that Nicky could picture perfectly coupled with an equally dopey smile and heavy eyes. A smile planted itself on his own face at the sound of another stifled yawn. "You and your baggage."

"Yeah, well, at least I'm leaving a good chunk of it behind this time." Nicky's smile became a little rueful. Baggage in the form of twin cousins wasn't exactly easy to manage, but it would still feel strange after working them into each and every one of his plans for years. Nicky thought he could almost miss the struggle. He wouldn't have changed anything, not for the world, but…

"You'll miss them?"

Nicky shrugged, turning towards the door. "Maybe. Definitely more than they'll miss me."

"It's only for a few months over the summer."

"I know."

"You'll call them?"

Nicky snorted. "Only to make sure Andrew hasn't killed anyone –"

Nicky cut himself off as the door to the suite swung open in his face. Jerking back a step, he lowered his phone to his shoulder, covering the mouthpiece as Matt nearly barrelled through him. "Jesus," he exclaimed, louder than even he would admit was necessary. "Slow down much?"

Matt ground to a halt before him. He had a bundle of balled-up washing in his arms, apparently deeming a laundry basket far too logical for his purposes. When a shirt slipped from his pile to the floor, his muted pout bespoke abrupt regret of his oversight.

"Dammit," Matt cursed under his breath. "I nearly made it the whole way, too." He glanced up at Nicky, gaze darting across Nicky's own armful. "You're still in here?"

Nicky shrugged. "Apparently you've stolen a whole bunch of my stuff," he said.

"Probably Aaron bringing it in," Matt said.

"Sure, sure, blame Aaron. Where is he, anyway?"

"How should I know?" Matt peered over the top of his clothes pile, eyeing his dropped shirt as he tried and failing to pick it up with his toes. "Probably with Katelyn or something."

Nicky smirked. "As if they won't be spending practically every second together over the summer."

"Yeah, well." Matt shrugged himself before finally managing to flip the shirt onto a finger with a wobbling manoeuvre and proceeding to skirt around Nicky. Like everyone else, he too had been packing too when Nicky had intruded early that. The girls' room was like a thoroughfare for the movement of bodies through the doorway and down to the cars, and Nicky was adding it next to his list. His own wasn't much better, even if just about everyone – Foxes included – were more than aware that Andrew didn't appreciate being walked in on. Last checked, he'd neglected his own packing and had been attempting to contract emphysema double time by working his way through a packet of cigarettes at the window.

Nicky didn't – and couldn't – object to Andrew smoking, but he'd admit that it would be a bonus of living in a different room to him in the coming year.

Passing down the hallway, Nicky managed to prop his phone up against his ear once more. "Are you still there?" he asked by way of a greeting return, slipping back into German as he did so. "Did you fall to sleep on me?"

"Mm," Erik mumbled in reply. "Not quite."

"Not 'not quite'. You're practically sleep talking." Nicky smiled. "Go to sleep. I'll call you later."

"No," Erik replied, the stubborn ass that he was. "I said I'd stay awake to make sure you got everything packed. You're not done yet."

"Yeah, well, maybe I – wait, hold on a sec."

"No, you can't convince me otherwise."

"No, Erik, I –"

"You're terrible at keeping yourself motivated for this kind of thing. Don't deny it, you always –"

"Shut up for a second, babe." Frozen mid-step, Nicky barely heard Erik's surprised grunt. His eyes were fixed instead upon the door into his own rooms, his ears pricked attentively. What was…?

"What is it?" Erik asked, curiosity dispelling some of the sleepiness of in his voice.

"I'm not…" Nicky trailed off as the voice rose from within once more. "Hey, I'll call you back in a second, 'kay?"

"What? What are you –? Nicky, what's –?"

"In a sec." Hanging up, Nicky tucked his phone into his armload and edged towards the doorway into Andrew's room. When he was close enough, he peered almost tentatively around the doorframe.

The room was as much of a mess as everyone else's, a battlefield of discarded clothes, possessions strewn across beanbags and every available surface, and trip hazards in the form of forgotten socks, shoes, and bags half filled. Kevin was nowhere in sight, likely still lost in the bedroom flipping through forgotten notes from the year exactly as Nicky had left him, but Andrew and Neil were in the main room. Andrew was still at the window, the stump of a cigarette between his fingers and legs extended across the desk, while Neil…

"What the hell?" Nicky whispered, mostly to himself but also hoping just a little that Andrew might answer him.

Andrew didn't seem to hear. Neither did Neil for that matter, though that was likely because he had an earbud in his ear. The iPod Nicky had demanded he be introduced to only a week ago, courtesy of Allison's bank account after they'd simultaneously unearthed the horror of Neil's lack of musical awareness, had been forced into his hands with the express command to use it well. Nicky was rather proud of the selection of tracks he'd chosen to clutter the memory bank with. He'd filled it to practically overflowing, too.

Neil was bemused, then exasperated, then proceeded to use the iPod as little as humanely possible. That was until Nicky stuffed an earbud into his ear with his own fingers and scrolled to a tune.

"Listen," he'd said. "And learn. Jesus, this is what people do in their down-time, Neil. That, or watch movies, which you still suck at doing."

"I'm fine without -"

"Say you're fine again and I'm going to have to hit you. Accept your fate quietly, child. If nothing else, you can use it when you go for a run or something."

Apparently it hadn't been as much of an outlandish idea as Neil's answering flat stare had suggested, for he did just that. Nicky was nothing if not proud; he'd always felt just a little bit gypped that Matt, for all of his admittedly skewed taste in viewing, had been able to infect Neil's movie-virgin mind before him. At least Nicky was getting a foot in the door in the music department.

He just hadn't expected that Neil had more of an ear for music than he could have anticipated. A voice for it, too.

"Those three words," Neil all but mumbled, the words just loud enough to carry the tune of the song, "are said too much…"

It was… quiet. Calm. A little detached yet unexpectedly lilting. Neil trailed in and out of truly singing, murmuring words as he flicked through the distraction of whatever he was doing. Nicky wasn't even sure what it was; something that involved papers, shuffling some while crumpling others. It didn't really matter, because Nicky didn't care. He didn't care one bit, because –

"… would you lie with me and just forget the world…" Neil sang, the gentle rise and fall of his voice vague as he held out a paper and frowned at it before tossing it onto the pile beside him.

Neil can sing? Nicky shot a glance towards Andrew where he sat, still gazing out the window. At Nicky's wordless, barely audible bid for attention, or maybe feeling his affixed attention, glanced towards him with hooded eyes. Unblinking, he didn't say a word but raised a finger and pointed it at Nicky as nothing if not warning. The meaning couldn't be clearer:

Don't say a word.

Nicky didn't understand. He didn't really know why, how, or when Neil had started to sing, absentmindedly disregarding a watching world or perhaps oblivious to his own singing it entirely with the tune playing in his ear. How he'd been able to hide it for so long was even more frustrating. Nicky always seemed to stumble across such nuggets of gold when it came to Neil. That he could sing and Nicky was only just finding out now? It was far from satisfying but rather only served to make him wonder what else Neil had overlooked in telling them.

Edging into the room, Nicky lowered his stack of DVDs to the floor. He took a step towards Neil, opened his mouth to ask, then flinched as a pen bounced off his cheek.

Hissing, Nicky shot Andrew a frown. It slid off Andrew's blank-faced stare like water from a duck's back. His only comment was to flick his finger in Nicky's direction once more much as he'd flicked the pen, an even more pointed demand that required verbal instruction even less than his previous one had.

Nicky pouted. He glanced at Neil again where he was sitting, slumped in a beanbag and singing to himself as he worked his way through his papers. He shot another look at Andrew, met Andrew's flat stare, then gave a huff before backing through the door he'd just stepped through. He couldn't quite withhold an abrupt grin, however, as he all but bumped into Allison striding down the hallway in the direction of the girls' room.

"Watch it," Allison said without heat, striding past him.

Nicky barely heard her. Sparing a glance into his rooms, lingering just a moment to catch a final chime of Neil's poetic murmur, he eased the door closed behind him. "Allison," he hissed darting after her and flapping a hand at her in a grasp for immediate and absolutely necessary attention. "Oi, Allison, guess what? You're not gonna believe this…"

Neil was sure he'd seen this page before. Hadn't he already gotten rid of it? He thought he had. Maybe not. Maybe he should just – no, he'd keep that one. Just in case. The urge to toss anything that didn't have immediate value was an instinct that he'd had for as long as he could remember, a part-and-parcel of having to carry everything he owned in a single bag. It wasn't like that anymore, and he wouldn't. Especially not after Kevin's severe talking-to.

"Don't toss out anything you might use next year," he'd said, reaching into the bin that Neil had just discarded his notes into. "This is valuable study material. It could save your academic career if you take a follow-up unit."

"I'll just write more if I need to," Neil had replied.

"No," Kevin had barked, almost angry in his condescension. "Don't make more work for yourself than you need to. It'll cut into your practice time, and we both know that's unacceptable."

Kevin had dumped the disorderly stack in his hands and all but forced Neil into a beanbag to 'sort through it properly' before disappearing into his room with his own school notes to do was the same. Scowling after him, Neil had begrudgingly followed suit. He considered it more than a little unfair that Andrew wasn't forced to do the same, but then, Andrew probably didn't need to. He more than likely didn't even take notes at all.

Winding an earbud into his ear, Neil flicked the iPod Nicky had given him onto the first song he glanced at. He didn't know much music, but Nicky was apparently attempting to remedy that perceived inadequacy. What had been an affront at first had turned into something not so bad; it wasn't a distraction as it could have been, and even proved to be comfortable accompaniment sometimes. Even better when Neil could focus on tune and lyrics to the abandonment of unproductive thoughts. Provided he was still aware enough of his surroundings, it was almost pleasant.

Listening was easy. Listening and learning was easy, and the words of the song he'd absently picked rose to the fore on his tongue before Neil could think to withhold them. It was just like picking up a language, really: listen, repeat in his mind, and mimic. It didn't even take conscious awareness to do it.

Almost like with Mom, Neil thought distractedly as he frowned at another page of notes. He was sure if he'd seen that one already too. Was he going through his 'to keep' pile? But no, he surely would have tossed that one, wouldn't he? Why did he need to keep repeated columns of Spanish nouns? Words were easy to remember. Mom never pulled me up for singing along in the car, either, even though she got pissed about so many other things. I never thought to ask why, but…

The tug of the earbud from his ear had Neil pausing in his note-shuffling. Glancing to his side where he hadn't even noticed Andrew lower himself to into a crouch beside, he cocked his head. Andrew ignored him in favour of flicking through Neil's iPod, the stunted end of a cigarette balanced between the fingers of his scrolling hand. Neil dropped an elbow onto his knee, watching and waiting. Maybe he shouldn't listen to the music so loudly if he didn't even notice when someone approached him. He'd thought that leaving one ear free was enough, but apparently not.

"Did you want it?" Neil asked, though he already knew the answer. He'd asked before when Andrew had done just the same thing and received the same answer.

Andrew didn't quite shake his head, but he glanced up at Neil and met his gaze in a clearer answer as he handed the iPod back to him. Neil shrugged, accepted it, and pressed the earbud back into his ear. He turned back to his notes, began the arduous task of flicking once more, and listened with half an ear to the opening notes of the song Andrew had chosen. A cover, he noticed, but still distinct.

The Sound of Silence was ironically fitting as Andrew's choice. Oddly enough, he didn't complain when Neil sang either.

***

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!!! If you’ve got a second I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please feel free to leave a comment or even just say hi over on my AO3! xx

#aftg #fanfiction #the foxhole court #neil josten #andrew minyard #post-canon #ficlets #sort of #Multiple POV

[philosophiums]

{god okay finally i’ve finished!!!!! i’ve got drafts of all five parts done and am starting to go through and revise, which i will post as i complete. i could revise three or four more times but like...... don’t have time for THAT. so here’s the neil-in-a-dress au that @microolli​ has been drawing. hopefully this ends up being even *close* to what you were hoping for}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part One: Targeted

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

North Carolina’s humidity is reaching critical mass, and every breath of Andrew’s feels a little too much like warm water, like he shouldn’t be letting it into his lungs. Sundown didn’t help cool things off, and the breeze that had been blowing through the cracks in the windows has since choked off and left the three of them treading water. If he’d wanted to drown, he would have picked a better location; even he deserves something classier than a shitty black van parked on the side of some shitty two-lane road, lights off to hide better in the dark.

It’ll storm soon. Later tonight or tomorrow, but this slow buildup of airborne swamp water has to produce something destructive – there’s no other option. He just wants to be happily settled in some air conditioning before the sky splits.

Andrew sweeps his eyes up to check on Aaron beside him, noise-cancelling headphones settled over his head and eyes trained on the screens in front of him, and then he pivots to look at Nicky in the driver’s seat, whose hand is caught in his hair as he tries impossibly hard to stay alert.

Three hours have gone by. Something awful twists in the pit of his gut, instinct letting him know that whatever peace they’ve managed to hold is about to be disrupted. “Check in,” he says, returning to his original position, head down and eyes closed, his hands loose between his knees. He focuses on breathing and listening; those are his only concerns right now.

“One,” Dan’s voice scratches through his headphones, and then, “two,” as Matt follows suit. They’re in the building, the closest to the client, and no matter how much Wymack likes to go on about teamwork and making an effort to participate, this mission is on Dan and Matt’s shoulders. If something goes wrong and the client gets injured, it’s their fault. Allison and Renee count off three and four respectively, and their feedback is clearer because they’re closer – outside the building on the perimeter, sweeping circles back and forth to make sure nothing’s been planted. Andrew thinks it’s a pointless maneuver for only two people, that the gap in their patrol leaves a massive opportunity for anyone, but he doesn’t bring it up. Nicky’s five, which at least confirms that he’s still awake, and finally, from a full state away, Kevin and Wymack check in as six and seven. Aaron doesn’t get a number, both because Andrew’s eyes are on him and because he’s tasked with staying entirely focused on the cameras that they have running – so much so that Andrew’s in charge of the audio from everyone’s microphones and comms.

It’s absolutely pathetic that it takes nine people to keep one man alive when it should require only two, and take maybe four for padding on the wealthier clients. But before last year, Fox Den, Inc. couldn’t even manage with eleven people on-sight. Circumstances changed. People died. Kevin bled his way across several state borders and proclaimed he was staying, and then Andrew was convinced to stay, too. Sometimes, when Wymack bribes Andrew with just the right incentive, the whole plan runs smoothly. But usually they only barely manage to keep their clients alive, let alone unharmed. It’s as if their presence alone causes mayhem to kick up from the dust, and Andrew thinks that they would have better luck killing people for money – especially since right now they tend to get people killed and lose money – but the only time he voiced this, he got glared at and overruled. Maybe they’d manage better if they could work as a team, but Andrew’s more interested in keeping his family alive than the client, so shit tends to fall apart when anything gets serious.

Why Wymack hasn’t fired Andrew yet is really anyone’s guess. Probably because Kevin’s favorite mantra is that Andrew’s full of potential but lacking initiative.

Kevin thinks too much.

The venue they’re casing is a small but high-end party in a public building, the room reserved and vetted for by the property owners. The chatter coming through Matt’s microphone is mundane, if more muffled than normal given the dress restrictions of the event. There’s some money talk – in the way that wealthy people talk about money, which is to say there’s conversation about new business ventures and investments and how “overpriced but worthwhile” education is for their children. The conversation makes that dark lake in Andrew’s chest ripple with his anger, but none of the topics raise anything close to concern. There haven’t been any red flags all evening.

And Aaron hasn’t made any motion yet tonight to signal anything amiss on the screens, and there hasn’t been a perimeter breech that Allison and Renee have found, and there’s been no interruption of new information from Wymack or Kevin.

So, why does Andrew still feel like something’s about to go wrong?

He trusts his gut. “One, circle closer to the client,” Andrew instructs, head still down and eyes still closed. The van dips quickly towards the driver’s side and Andrew’s heart drops with it, but he doesn’t move at all. He assumes that it’s only Nicky turning around to look at him – Andrew hasn’t bothered to give orders pertinent to the mission in four… no, five jobs now.

“Something come up?” Dan asks, tone down as the chatter around her sways in and out of Andrew’s hearing, coming in from her headpiece and her suit mic as a unit of sound that only barely lines up and makes sense together.

Of course, Andrew could tell her the whole truth, which is that nothing solid has come to his attention. There’s no evidence that the job is about to go south. Matt is already close to the client. But the strangling snag of his gut has never lied to him before – so much trauma has tuned him to know exactly when it’s coming. “Yes,” he says, which is enough of the truth to assuage her, and doesn’t elaborate.

“Andrew?” God, Kevin needs to not be talking right now. Andrew’s fists clench between his knees. “Did you notice something? What did you hear?”

“I can’t hear anything with you filling up the radio waves.” And really, what a poor fucking design for this part of the plan, but Andrew stops thinking about how Nicky should be solely in charge of communication when he catches sight of Aaron moving, and that jerky motion drags all of Andrew’s attention to his twin.

His head snaps up, and he watches Aaron’s mouth move in a slow, incredulous way, though he can’t hear him at all given the chaos that suddenly erupts through Andrew’s headphones. He rips them off and drops them, welcoming the bang of silence through his head. With the way Aaron slumps in his chair, there’s no way the client is still alive.

“What the fuck just happened?” Nicky asks, and Andrew would bet it’s into the comm system as well, but he’ll just bog down the channel, since that’s what everyone else is asking, too. “Shit.” He moves like he’s about to bail from the front seat, and Andrew’s not sure if Nicky’s thinking about running inside or coming around the van to join them in the back, but he’s not taking chances.

“Stay put, Nicky. He’s dead.” Andrew says it with a sigh.

Nicky swears again, but he stops acting like he’s leaving.

Andrew’s slow to stand up, left leg braced out so that he doesn’t have to rush to find his balance. It’s been a long night, and it was all for nothing; now all that’s left is figuring out what the fuck happened. Aaron pulls off his noise-cancelling headphones and tosses them to the lip of a desk in front of him, and Andrew takes a step and a half to come up behind him.

“Rewind it,” he says. “Show me.”

Aaron doesn’t move right away, and their synced sluggish responses make Andrew wonder if the damp air has become something thicker without them noticing, or if they’re both starting to wonder what the point of them doing this is. It feels rote, so Andrew doesn’t rush Aaron into moving. Eventually, Aaron leans forward and rewinds the tape.

When the recording starts to play, all Andrew sees is boring rich white people milling about in clean-cut fashion. He finds their client in the upper corner of the main screen, and the middle of the right screen; Matt is half-visible in the main screen and gone in the left, and Dan is invisible in all three. He watches the main screen, sees Dan come in from the bottom, casually slipping through the crowd with a mellow urgency that no one picks up on. And then the client just drops.

No obvious killer.

Well. Shit.

“Again,” he says, eyes staying on the screen even when Nicky decides to scramble between the front seats and join them.

Once more, Aaron rewinds the tape. Andrew delegates them each a screen. “Watch the top left corner only,” he says, because now they need to find whoever killed their client and lost them more money and reputation. They go through until Aaron stops the tape and rewinds again, and again until Andrew stops him. “There.” He points at the figure, the one he noticed last time but this time is sure of.

“How can you tell it’s her?” Nicky asks, leaning closer to the screen as if proximity will make the pixels any more clear, as if it will make the cutting silhouette in the black dress and close-cut curly auburn hair turn around and show her face. “She’s so far away from him.”

As if that hadn’t been Andrew’s first hesitation in picking her out. “Watch her hand,” he says, and moves aside as Aaron rewinds the tape one last time to watch. A second before their client crumples, the woman raises her arm, fingers shaped like a pistol aimed at their client, and pulls it back like it’s been fired. There’s no weapon in sight, but their client dies anyway.

When they get back to Columbia, they’ll have to comb through all of the video footage to look for any other occurrence of the woman throughout the night, but for now they have authorities to deal with, and then Andrew is going to start drinking.

#the foxhole court #tfc #tfc fic #microolli #idk what to tag this as we're here now #my fics

[writinginstardust]

Do Anything | Part 3

Pairing: Tyler Jones x reader

Warnings: tiny bit of violence

A/N: Tyler’s POV for this chapter in case it’s not clear immediately. Yeah technically I didn’t need to write this bit but I wanted to focus at least a little on Tyler and his own feelings because it’s like one of my favourite things to do. Because like yeah, we all know we love him or whatever character but what we really want is to see how my they love us in this fantasy world. It’s also just a lot of fun tbh. Anyway, there’s actually some vaguely happy stuff in this chapter but not too much.

Word Count: 2028

*

I stared blankly out the window of the control deck, not really seeing any of the stars or anything much at all. The stars seemed dim now anyway. The beauty that used to mesmerise me as a child, diminished. They felt wrong. Everything did now.

It had been just over a month since we’d lost her and every day the loss seemed to weigh on me more. I hadn’t given up hope though. Not completely. She might already be dead but until I knew for sure, I wasn’t going to stop fighting to get her back. None of us were .

That’s what we’d been doing for the past few weeks. Laying low, planning, preparing, training in between figuring out how to save the damn galaxy. It helped. Took my mind off what might be happening to her and the nagging feeling of guilt for failing her. She’d wanted to be the one that stayed, demanded it even, but I’d promised myself when she joined our mission that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I’d failed. The weight of that threatened to crush me if I didn’t keep busy. I only let myself think about it in these quiet times when I kept watch while everyone slept. I could never sleep anymore.

So I spent nights thinking about her, about those last moments. When I’d kissed her, when she’d stayed behind anyway, when she’d cried and told me she was sorry, and when she’d told me she loved me. She probably thought I hadn’t heard but I did, her words somehow carried safely through the shouting and disruptor fire. She might have died without knowing I felt the same. It tore my heart to shreds.

I let myself dwell on happier memories too. They were the only thing that kept me sane in those long silent stretches, alone in the night. Her smile, the hugs she gave whenever she got excited, the first time we’d piloted together, the nights when she snuck into my room and talked about the future until she fell asleep in my bed, taking her to the beach when we had shore leave, late night study sessions when everything softened and she fought to stay awake and help me, being dragged to a karaoke night and seeing her so happy and carefree while she belted out some cheesy pop song. All of it tucked away in my heart. Things I worried I might never have again. I’d give up everything just to see her smile one more time. I’d burn the galaxy to the ground to have her here, rolling her eyes and calling me a dramatic idiot.

Two bleeps and a flashing yellow light drew my eyes over to the control panel, frown settling on my face. An incoming transmission. I walked over and hit the button to answer. A woman in TDF uniform filled the holographic display. Not good.

“Legionnaire Jones,” she said by way of greeting.

“What do you want?” I asked through gritted teeth. Even the sight of the uniform had my blood boiling.

“I am Lieutenant Croft with Terran Defence Force squadron Sigma-Ra-”

“I don’t care who you are. What do you want?” I couldn’t see any reason for a call. If they were close enough to hail us, surely they’d just fly over and shoot at us until we were nothing more than little pieces of flesh and scrap metal floating around in the void.

“We want to offer you a trade. You left something behind when you escaped Colonel Wymack’s custody and we think you might want it back.” A surveillance image flashed up on the screen and it took me a moment to process what I was seeing. It hit me like a physical blow. (Y/N). Clearly injured, locked in a cell, but alive.

“What have you done to her?” I had to fight to keep my voice steady.

“Nothing she won’t eventually recover from. Provided you agree to our deal that is. Hand over Aurora O’Malley and she’s yours.”

“What are your terms?”

“In one week’s time, come to the Sincastri spaceport at 0900 hours galactic standard. Come with your entire squad. Two of you may remain on your ship, the rest will escort Aurora out and one of you may come forward to make the hand-off. We will give you Legionnaire (L/N) alive. Should you try anything we will terminate her immediately.”

“Understood.”

“Do we have an agreement then?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We shall see you in one week Legionnaire.” And she cut off the call. It took me a moment to gather my thoughts again. We had a chance to get her back. The GIA would probably be there and one or both agencies would likely try to double cross us but it didn’t matter. We’d figure out a way to get us all out of this alive and safe, I knew we would.

(Y/N) would say it was a risk, one we shouldn’t take. She’d say not to do it, that her life wasn’t worth it, and maybe to an uncaring authority she’d be right. But not to me. Not to us. We could do this and we would. We were getting her back.

“Guys,” I said over the ship-wide comms channel. “Get to the control deck now. We’ve got work to do.”

*

I worked to keep my breathing steady and my mind clear as we came in to land. No one failed to notice the extra ships both in orbit and patrolling the port from 100ft up as we entered the atmosphere. We were right to be wary. They were clearly prepared to shoot us down if we tried anything. Probably even if we didn’t. Well, they were in for a surprise.

We’d spent the past week planning and training every hour of the day for this. Kal and Zila had even come to do recon on the area to better plan our getaway and plant a few strategically placed explosives that would hopefully give us a fighting chance. Auri had been practising to within an inch of her life, pushing and stretching the limits of her power further and further. She was in complete control now and what she could do was truly terrifying. So long as we kept her alive to do her thing, we could do this. It was the only reason Kal wasn’t throwing a Syldrathi fit at having her walk into so much danger practically alone.

We touched down and Cat lowered the engines to an idle hum. I looked out the window. A sea of TDF uniforms filled my vision. They weren’t taking any chances.

“Everyone ready?” I asked. Grim faces and tight nods answered me. “Let’s do this.”

Scar, Zila, Auri, and Kal followed me off the ship and the silence out our arrival was deafening. My eyes scanned the crowd, who all looked ready to kil,l and finally found her. Our eyes met and nothing else existed anymore.

She looked terrified, beaten and weak, her eyes pleading with me. To stop this. To leave her. To let the TDF kill her rather than give them Auri. I hated to disappoint her, but I couldn’t do what she wanted. I tried to silently tell her to trust us but I could tell it didn’t register and it was taking all my willpower to stand still and not run straight to her. I’d kill everyone that stood between us if it wasn’t a surefire way to get us both killed and the rest of the squad too. I had to stick to the plan. Get her to safety first. Then, oh then they would all get what was coming to them.

Scarlett and the TDF leader stopped talking and Kal started walking forward, Auri half a pace in front of him. Time to get ready. I cleared my mind, focusing on the task ahead, but then I saw (Y/N) going for the pistol of the agent who was trying to push her forward and my mind was a whirlwind of panic. I recognised the look in her eye and knew what she was trying to do. No. No no no. Not when we were so close to getting her back.

She wasn’t strong enough to manage the follow-through and relief momentarily flooded me when the pistol was knocked from her hand. The agent proceeded to punch her in the stomach and a yell of rage pierced the air. I barely recognised it as my own. Agony lined her face as she attempted to keep walking forward at the agent’s insistence. More than it should be. That lodged in my heart like a shard of glass. Yeah, that agent was going to die. I’d make sure of it.

With every clearly agonising step I felt my anger climb to new heights, my fingers itching with the need to reach for my pistol and start shooting. Once, I’d been hesitant to fire on our own people, but the TDF weren’t our people anymore. Not these ones at least. No following orders defence could let this slide.

Finally the two parties met in the middle. I could her (Y/N) trying to convince them not to go through with this but I could hear in her voice that she knew she was too late to stop it. Still it broke my heart how readily she was willing to give up her own life. It almost sounded like she truly wanted to die, not even for the good of the galaxy. Just to make it all end. She should never have been driven to feel that way. It should have been me there.

A moment later, Kal was leading her back to our side, quickly and quietly explaining as much of the plan as he could and urging her to move as fast as she could manage. We had to get her to safety before Auri could start her own job but every second wasted lowered our odds of success.

Finally, finally, she was standing in front of me and then without me even realising I’d moved, she was in my arms. She was back where she belonged. I cried the second I finally felt her against me. Here. Alive. Safe. Well, safer. It finally felt like things might be okay. I never wanted it to end, never wanted to let her go again.

She was shaking, tears trickling out and soaking into my jacket as she clung to me like I might disappear If I let go. I didn’t plan to. I thought I might just die if I did. But then again, I might very well die if I didn’t. We weren’t out of the woods just yet. Still, I held onto her a little longer, it had to be convincing. At least, that was as good an excuse as any other.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” I whispered into her hair. She’d refused to give me the option to keep her safe but maybe if I’d done more, this never would have happened. I could have stopped it, should have stopped it, but I hadn’t been able to and I could never apologise enough for failing her. She shook her head against my chest.

“It’s okay. ‘S not your fault. I’m sorry,” she whispered back, her voice thick and scratchy.

“I love you.” She stilled and tilted her head up slightly, eyes shining, face awed. Had she really not believed I felt it too? After everything?

I kissed her quickly, desperately wishing I could linger there but far too aware of how little time we had. Pulling away, I slid an arm around her shoulders and helped her to the ship.

“Stay on it this time okay?” A little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and struck me right in the gut. I’d been terrified I’d never get to see her smile again and seeing just a fraction of one gave me hope.

“I promise. Just please, don’t die.”

“Promise.” I kissed her again, I couldn’t help it. When I stepped back all hell broke loose behind me.

*

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness @writingbychelle @ad-astraaaa @moderngenius94

Aurora Cycle: @aurising

#aurora rising #aurora cycle #Tyler Jones #Tyler Jones x reader #tyler jones imagine #Tyler Jones x you #Tyler Jones Fanfic #aurora rising imagine #aurora rising fanfic #aurora cycle fanfic #aurora cycle imagine #reader insert #Fic - Do Anything

[otdiaftg]

Neil scrubs at his eyes, tired despite the adrenaline burst, and goes to investigate the noise.

The kitchen light was off, but the dim florescent bulb over the stove was on. Wymack was fussing over the coffeemaker. If Wymack was up, it was half past four in the morning. Neil learned Wymack's morning schedule the hard way from a month on Wymack's couch. Apparently death wasn't enough cause to shake the routine. Wymack finished setting up the grinds and set the coffee to brew. As he turned around he spotted Neil in the doorway. Neil waited for him to say something about how Neil ran out last night, but all Wymack said was, "Did you get any sleep?" Neil didn't know what time he'd gotten back, so he said, "A couple hours, I think." "If you can get more, do it," Wymack said. "It's going to be a long day, and I need everyone awake and coherent before Waterhouse gets here." At Neil's curious look, Wymack explained, "Andrew's lawyer. We're hoping he'll take Aaron's case. It should be an easy win for him." "They shouldn't have arrested him." "They're doing their jobs," Wymack said. "A man died last night, and until they have everything they need they have to hold him. Your testimony could speed the process up, you know. You're the only one besides Andrew and Aaron who was in that room when Drake died, and since Andrew won't talk either—" "Has Luther confessed?" "To what?" "To setting them up," Neil said, heated. "He put Drake in that house knowing what Drake had done to Andrew the last time they were together. If he and Aaron both told the truth and the officers had working sets of eyes to see what that room looked like, they don't need anything else. If they're bogging things down because Andrew's history makes them prejudiced they should give the case to more objective people and stop wasting our time."

Day: Monday, November 13th Time: 4:35 AM EST

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #trk #the raven king #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #palmetto state university #psu foxes #andreil #on this day in aftg #otdiaftg #palmetto state foxes #otdi all for the game #nora sakavic #the foxes #on this day in all for the game #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #coach wymack #betsy dobson #abby winfield #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds

[gluupor]

I Always Wanted a Real Home

This takes place in the universe I created in Where You Lead, my Gilmore Girls AU, featuring kid!Kevin.

Andrew shifted the bags he was carrying to one hand so he could knock. There was an immediate reaction: thumping feet running in his direction, Kevin’s childish voice yelling, “I’ll get it!”, and Neil’s response from farther in the apartment, his words undecipherable. The footsteps came to a halt on the other side of the door and the deadbolt clicked open.

“Kevin,” said Andrew loudly enough to be heard through the door. “Are you about to open the door without asking who’s knocking?”

There was a long, silent pause. “Who’s there?” Kevin finally asked.

“It’s Andrew.”

The door swung open, revealing a pout on Kevin’s five-year-old face. “I knew it was you; Dad told me you were coming.” His eyes caught on the bags in Andrew’s hands. “Did you bring me a present?”

Andrew handed over one of the bags. “Go put these under the tree,” he instructed as he stepped inside the tiny apartment. He removed his boots and coat and headed to the kitchen with his other bags.

Neil was standing in front of the stove, frowning at a piece of fairly mangled packaging.

“Are you cooking?” asked Andrew, letting his extreme skepticism bleed into his tone.

“Cookies,” said Neil, brandishing the packaging. “From a tube. I think I can manage.”

“Can you?”

“I may have ripped the bit that told me what temperature the oven’s supposed to be but 450 should be fine, right?”

“If you want charcoal briquettes,” Andrew sighed and reached over, adjusting the oven temperature to something much more reasonable. Neil leaned against him and smiled, causing a slight ache in Andrew’s chest.

“Merry Christmas,” Neil said. “Thank you for coming.”

Andrew had received his usual invitations to spend the day with Bee or with Aaron but he’d declined in favour of spending it with the Jostens. He’d come to realize that there was nowhere he’d rather be, something which worried him. He hadn’t quite decided what to do about his attraction and attachment to Neil.

“DAD! PRESENTS!” shouted Kevin.

“He's excited,” commented Andrew, unpacking his groceries into the almost-barren fridge.

“He was awake at 2,” said Neil, pouring out two mugs of coffee from his coffee maker (the only high quality appliance in the kitchen).

“Was he worried you’d disappeared again?” asked Andrew in a low voice. Kevin didn’t have any concrete memories of his mother anymore but he did carry the lasting impression that she’d left in the middle of the night and never returned. He had the habit of getting up to check that Neil hadn’t abandoned him.

“No, he just couldn’t sleep from excitement. I eventually had to threaten to take away his presents to get him to stay in bed until a reasonable hour.”

Kevin ran into the kitchen. “You said we could open presents when Andrew got here,” he said impatiently. He grabbed Andrew’s hand and started ineffectually pulling him. “Come see the tree! I decorated it myself.”

“I see that,” replied Andrew. The tree was small, but real, probably brought over by Boyd or Reynolds. All the ornaments were clustered at the front and were about three and half feet off the ground - directly level with Kevin’s eye-line.

“Look at my presents!” said Kevin, as Andrew settled on the couch. Neil perched beside him and handed over one of the mugs of coffee. “I’ve got one from you and one from Matt and one from Dan and one from Allison and one from Wymack and one from Miss Renee and one from Laila and one from Abby-”

“Breathe, bud,” said Neil.

“-and THREE from Santa and zero from Dad.”

“Oops,” said Neil. “That’s supposed to be two from Santa and one from me.”

“Santa’s wrapping ability seems to be on par with yours,” said Andrew, indicated the three messily wrapped parcels that stood out from all the neat folds and tight corners of the other presents.

“We collaborated,” said Neil.

“Can I open them now? Please, dad? Pllllllease?” whined Kevin.

Andrew flinched minutely. The word ‘please’ still held terrible connotations for him - especially when spoken in a child’s voice - but Kevin whined enough that he was becoming desensitized to hearing it.

“Open the one from Allison,” said Neil. “I don’t trust the smile she gave me when she brought it over.” He turned to Andrew. “The last time she smiled at me like that she gave Kevin cymbals.”

Allison’s gift turned out to be a collection of children’s DVDs full of colourful characters and songs that were probably specifically written to appeal to kids and to torture their parents.

“I don’t know what I did to make her hate me,” said Neil despondently.

“She doesn’t hate you,” said Kevin, looking concerned. “She likes you. She gives you hugs and pats your head and calls you kitten.”

“I’m aware,” said Neil dryly.

Kevin still looked troubled. “Once, she told Miss Renee that she’d do you if you weren’t so obivious. What’s that mean?”

Neil groaned.

“Dad? What’s obivious?”

“It means your dad doesn’t always see what’s right in front of him,” provided Andrew.

Kevin’s face cleared. “Like when he can’t find his shoes?”

“Exactly like that,” said Andrew. “Open another present.”

Kevin was sufficiently diverted by opening the rest of his presents.

“He’s so spoiled,” said Neil fondly, picking up the discarded wrapping paper once Kevin had disappeared into his room to organize his new toys. Not play with. Organize. Andrew was convinced that this was abnormal child behaviour but he appreciated it since it decreased the likelihood of him stepping on a Lego brick.

“You’re the one who decided to settle in a town full of busybodies,” said Andrew.

“Can you believe it’s been three years?”

Andrew couldn’t. His life had changed so much since Neil, looking like a zombie, had carried a screaming toddler into his diner on a late November evening. At first he’d told himself that he was helping out and keeping a close eye on him for Kevin’s sake - he was never going to allow a child to be harmed like he’d been if he could prevent it. He hadn’t needed Bee, his therapist, to point out that a lot of his initial interest was due to his own unresolved childhood issues: how many times had he wished that someone would steal him away and keep him safe?

It had taken him some time before he’d realized the danger he was in. One morning he’d handed Neil his morning coffee and Neil had given him a genuine smile and looked at him as if he were the only person on the planet that had any worth. Then Neil had taken a sip of the coffee and emitted a groan that was practically pornographic, sending a bolt of desire through Andrew’s lower belly.

Unfortunately it hadn’t taken him long to ascertain that Neil didn’t return his interest. Neil didn’t return anyone’s interest, actually, which was lucky as Andrew didn’t have to watch him date someone else. Neil was busy with his job and overwhelmed caring for Kevin and Andrew didn’t think that dating was currently in the cards for him, even if he had showed any inclination of wanting to.

Bee had told him that he had three choices.

One, he could ask Neil if he were interested in starting a romantic relationship. Andrew vetoed that; he had no desire to pressure Neil into something he may feel obligated to do because of how much he relied on Andrew.

Two, he could distance himself from Neil (and, by necessity, Kevin) and try to move on with someone else. That option made Andrew’s stomach hurt, especially since he wouldn’t be able to explain to Neil why his behaviour had suddenly changed.

Or three, he could accept that his relationship with Neil may never be exactly what he wanted but it was important and fulfilling all the same.

Andrew started on dinner fairly early. He was roasting a chicken as he wasn’t about to make an entire turkey for the three of them. For the last two years Neil had attended the dinner that Wymack provided at the Foxhole Inn for staff and guests and townspeople who had nowhere else to go, but Andrew had offered to cook this year and Neil had gladly accepted.

Kevin shuffled into the kitchen, blinking sleepily. His adrenaline had clearly worn off and his lack of sleep was catching up with him. Still, he clutched one of the DVDs from Allison and held it wordlessly out to Neil, who was keeping Andrew company and occasionally helping as Andrew prepared their meal.

“Are you sure you don’t want a nap?” asked Neil.

“Naps are for babies,” said Kevin disdainfully.

“I nap all the time,” said Neil. “I love naps.”

“For babies and disasters,” corrected Kevin.

Andrew felt his lips twitch as he put the chicken in the oven. Neil was glaring at him when he straightened.

“That is completely your fault,” he accused.

“I only speak the truth,” said Andrew.

Neil rolled his eyes and turned back to Kevin. “You go put that in the DVD player and we’ll meet you there.”

Andrew brewed another pot of coffee while Neil gathered blankets and they settled into a warm nest on the couch. Kevin climbed up beside Andrew and cuddled against him, already losing his fight with sleep. His blinks became longer and slower as the movie started.

Neil was leaning heavily on Andrew’s other side, having fallen asleep almost as soon as he’d sat down. He had the enviable ability to instantly drop off to sleep almost anywhere. Andrew knew that he must be exhausted as he’d been picking up extra shifts at the inn so he could afford to take the next week off to spend time with Kevin. He snuffled and started drooling on Andrew’s shirt.

Andrew watched the inane movie alone as Neil and Kevin slept, already knowing that at least one of the songs was going to be stuck in his head forever. He’d be humming it for weeks.

This is enough, he realized with sudden clarity. He ran a hand through Neil’s hair and wrapped his other arm around Kevin, holding him more securely as the boy snuggled into his side. This is more than enough.

#aftg #tfc #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #ggau #kid!kevin #dad!neil #long post #my fic

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Home for Christmas

This is my fic for the @aftgexchange winter round for @andreil-minyasten

I had so much fun writing this and I really hope this lives up to what you wanted! I actually had an idea for a part 2 to this from another bit of your prompts. If you want me to write that for you, feel free to message and ask, I’ll be quite happy to do so:)

Enjoy!!<3

--------

December 22nd

“What the hell do you mean that you aren’t going to be here for christmas, Andrew?”

Neil was beyond, angry. He was pissed. Their holiday plans had been decided back in November. Andrew would come to Neil in Boston from New York and they’d host Aaron, Katelyn from the twenty fourth before they’d meet Nicky, Erik- who were spending Christmas with Eric’s family in Germany -and the rest of the foxes down in South Carolina to spend New Years with Wymack and Abby.

But apparently, that was all going to shit, now.

“I’ve tried Neil, but flights are delayed and there’s a storm coming in. I don’t know if I’ll make it, the Mas definitely won’t.” Now he was beyond consoling.

“If you had come two days ago like you said you would, this wouldn’t be a problem. We haven’t seen each other since September.” He missed his partner, missed soft touches when they’d reach for one another in the night, he missed laying his head in Andrew’s lap while the other man read one of his newest books. Overall, he just missed Andrew.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it was Kevin’s fault I couldn’t come out when I had planned?” Neil scoffed.

“What Kevin wants has never stopped you before. Whatever, Andrew, I’m going to bed.” He ignored Andrew’s reply, hanging up and flinging his phone onto his bedside table. He was so tired of everything. Neil carried out his nighttime routine quite aggressively, flinging back the duvet with force, ignoring the constant buzzing of his phone. Tonight, the bed felt uncomfortable, lumpy and cold, so awfully cold. It had been three years of this, of the long distance, scheduling time to see each other, of having to be without one another for the majority of the year after spending four years attached at the hip while they were at PSU. The two of them, being how stubborn they both were, had sworn that the distance wouldn’t be an issue. Neil had to play with the Bobcats for two years minimum, considering it was the best contract he could get straight out of college and the closest to Andrew’s team.

Everything was great at first, wonderful even, they saw each other on as many weekends as they could, called and texted every day, and Skyped at least twice a week. But then shit went down hill. Practice built up and up if the team’s performance declined, promotions and photo shoots and team signings started taking up their free time. It was shit, they knew it was shit but, what could they do? He hated this, he hated everything about it.

His sleep that night was fitful and restless, and he was wide awake when the sun rose the next morning, yellow and orange rays of light hitting the empty spot beside him.

December 24th

Neil hadn’t spoken to Andrew since he abruptly ended their phone call two nights ago. There were several missed calls from the blonde on his phone, and many unread texts. He saw them as they came through, sometimes just his name, sometimes they asked if he was alright and ‘why won’t you pick up the fucking phone, Abram?’

Every part of him wanted to, fucking god, did he want to, but he had no idea what his brain would spout from his lips. He was terrified that the anger, the hurt of the separation, would come back full force and he’d say something awful that he’d most likely regret. That was his personal default when he was mad, finding exactly what to say that would hurt and hurt hard. So, no, he didn’t pick up the phone, he just left it alone and listened to the odd buzz as it vibrated against the kitchen counter. It was almost 8:30pm and Neil was making, or hoped to be making, cinnamon sugar cookies that would with any luck, still be warm and not burnt by the time Aaron and Katelyn arrived. They were apparently Kate’s latest pregnancy craving and he wanted for her to have them on hand so Aaron wouldn’t have to leave at some ungodly hour to get store bought ones.

There was flour everywhere and he was pretty sure there was some cinnamon on his forehead somehow, on top of that, he’d used more bowls than were actually needed for the ingredients the recipe called for but he wasn’t exactly surprised. Anything to do with cooking or baking was Andrew’s area of expertise: Neil just liked to watch, a giddy smile on his face whenever his partner whispered ‘staring’ without even looking at him. Shaking his head before he started to wallow in his own self pity, the timer to the first batch went off just as the buzzer to the apartment did. Quickly pulling out the baking tray, he placed it on the side, barely taking note of how the shapes he cut out now resembled blobs as he rushed to the door and pressed the button for the speaker. “Hello?”

“Neil! It’s Kate, Aaron is just sorting the bags and told me to come up first.” He smiled despite his somber mood for the past week.

“Come on up, I’ll buzz you in. Do you want me to wait outside the elevator for you?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine!” He agreed and let her in, wiping his hands before propping his front door open and waiting for her anyway. Before long, he was greeted with an eye rolling Katelyn, but there was a grin on her lips nonetheless. “You’re nearly as bad as my husband, I’m surprised he even let me come up on my own, but thank you.” She said, as he held out his elbow for her to take. She had begun to waddle a little now with how big she had gotten. Neil supposed that having twins made the whole process a little different.

He helped her settle into the armchair in the living room and asked, “can I get you a drink?”

“Water would be great, thanks. Also, is that cinnamon I smell?” He felt his cheeks go hot and knew he was blushing.

“You mentioned at one point on the phone that cinnamon cookies are your newest craving and so I made some for you. They’re still warm if you’d like a few?” Katelyn nodded excitedly, murmuring how grateful she was at the thoughtful gesture and he hurried off, placing a few questionable looking snowmen and coming back into the other room just as the buzzer went off again. He left the pregnant woman to devour her food and admire his sparkly Christmas tree and went to let Aaron in. When the elevator opened up on his floor once again, he was met with a ruffled Minyard twin who was surrounded by bags.

“What the hell do you bring with you?”

“Shut your mouth and help me carry this shit, would you?” Neil kept his mouth shut and hefted a couple of bags into his arms. Most went into the spare room where the couple would be sleeping and then Aaron unloaded a big bag of presents to sit underneath the tree while he went back to put more cookies in the oven, and to load a few more onto Katelyn’s now empty plate. When he came back and sat himself on the couch, Aaron seemed out of breath, hugging as he lay on the wood floor.

“I’ll ask again, how much did you bring?” The woman stuffing her face giggled as her husband giggled and replied;

“We have your presents and Andrew’s presents from us, mine and Aaron’s that we’ve gotten each other, and we brought all the gifts for when we see the others next week. Also our clothes and my hospital bag even though I have about two and a half months left.” He nodded, though he was confused on the amount of clothes. They only lived an hour away from him and could go back for more clothes before they headed to South Carolina. Neil was about to mention just that when Aaron interrupted.

“Where is my brother anyway?” Ah yes, he’d forgotten to mention that. He let his face go blank as he told them what had happened. That Andrew kept pushing it back until he couldn’t come, that they’d argued and that they weren’t currently speaking. Katelyn had something akin to pity on her face and Aaron looked as though he was angry on behalf of Neil. “What the fuck? He’s seriously going to miss Christmas with his family, with you?”

“Looks like it.”

“But since when has what Kevin wanted ever mattered to him? Unless it benefitted his own needs of course.” It was weird slowly becoming friends with Aaron and seeing that occasionally, they could be on the same wavelength and agree with each other. It was a little bit dangerous, in his opinion.

“That’s what I said.”

“Is he still going to come to Palmetto next week.” He didn’t know what to say, because Andrew could still turn up at Abby’s despite not being here now. He also hadn’t spoken to him, so he hadn’t got the chance to ask. Neil stayed quiet. Aaron looked like he was about to press for more when Kate suggested that they watch a movie together and started setting up the tv without waiting for either of them to reply. Twenty minutes into the movie, Katelyn had picked A Christmas Carol because it was a classic, Neil got the final batch of cookies from the oven and cleared down the kitchen for tomorrow. Another ten minutes after that, Katelyn disappeared to put on pyjamas and Aaron grabbed him and Neil a beer from the fridge. By ten o’clock they were debating on watching one more film or going to bed when the apartment door opened and closed loudly.

The three of them half jumped out of their seats, turning violently to see Andrew Minyard standing in the doorway, and Neil’s breath caught in his throat. He was bundled up in a thick black coat, the collar pulled up around his neck, and his black knitted bobble hat Neil had brought him last year was pulled down over his ears that he just knew would still be adorably pink at the tips. One of his hands was tucked into his pocket and the other held a large duffel bag.

“Well well, look at what the cat finally dragged in.” Both Neil and Andrew glared at Aaron, who only rolled his eyes in response to their annoyance. Turning back to Andrew he gave him one last once over before standing slowly.

“Why don’t you go and sort yourself out,” he pointed to the bedroom where their en-suite was, “I’ll be in there in a minute.” Andrew gave a curt nod in confirmation and disappeared down the hall, bedroom door shutting softly. Katelyn was speaking to him, saying that she and Aaron were going to head to bed, kissing him on the cheek and pulling her husband along. Neil’s first instinct was to run to the bedroom, wrap his partner up in his arms, kiss him until they were breathless and then never let him go again but he was still mad at him. So, he cleared the few empty cans from the coffee table, and took Kate’s dirty glass and plate to the kitchen and dumped them in the sink. He locked the door and the windows out of habit and switched off all of the lights and slowly walked to his bedroom where he knew Andrew was waiting.

When he reached the door, he froze with his hand on the handle, closing his eyes and breathing deeply several times before he forced himself to step inside. As he suspected. Andrew was now in a pair of grey sweats and, he noticed with some satisfaction, one of Neil’s long sleeve cotton shirts. This one was a navy blue and Andrew had never looked more beautiful than he didn’t now, in soft clothes, hair ruffled and his nose and cheeks still a little pink from the cold air outside. He tugged on his withering self control and stopped himself from climbing over the other man and just holding him. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Taking that as a cue to start first, Andrew spoke, though Neil never expected for those words to ever come out of his partner’s mouth. “I lied to you.”

“What?” The blonde looked down at his hands, sighed, and then stood, walking and walking until he was a mere few steps away from Neil. Before, before there would be no need for that distance, because they’d healed and grown together and barely used ’yes or no’ unless it was a bad day or they were trying new things. Fuck long distance relationships.

“I lied. Kevin was never the one to keep me back in New York the first time, and there was no storm coming in to stop me from coming this time.” He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“What the fuck? How could you lie, you swore you’d never lie to me. Why didn't you want to come, and why turn up at the last minute?” Andrew did step into his space then, on hand gripping his hip and the other linking their pinkie fingers together.

“Because there was something I was trying to sort out but those god damn stickball coaches are a pain in my ass.” Neil blinked, and then blinked a couple more times, before he was led to the bed where Andrew let go of him to dig out a stack of papers from his duffel bag and handed them into his scarred hands. “Merry Christmas, Junkie.” Okay, now he really was confused as he stared at the item in his hands with a furrowed brow. His anger was still there, but dying out slowly. He flicked through page after page eyes widening and mouth dropping open before he looked back at Andrew whose lips were quirking at his dumbfounded expression.

“You’re serious? You join the Bobcats when the new season starts?” His lover nodded.

“I’m tired. I’m tired of being away from you, of all the fighting. I’ve been working with your coach and mine to trade me with your goalkeeper, Angie. They hated it at first but I got there in the end. That’s why I’m so late, they were still hesitant about signing the damn forms.”

“So you started yet another fight with me?” In one swift movement there were hands on his cheeks and words were being breathed against his lips, sending pleasant, incredibly missed shivers down his spine as he wrapped his arms around Andrew’s waist.

“Not my finest moment, but I was trying to surprise you. Clearly, I’m not very good at it.” Neil chuckled wetly, and pressed their foreheads together.

“This is really happening?” He whispered gently.

“Yeah. I’ve still got to move all my stuff out here and things like that, but it’s real, Abram.”

“Then kiss me, you asshole, and make me forget your very bad surprise.” Andrew laughed then too, walking him backwards and pushing him down onto the bed, straddling his waist. They kissed for what seemed like hours, wrapped up and lost in one another. When they finally pulled apart, his lips felt tingly and his breathing came in pants.

That night, he fell asleep to warm sheets, a soft body behind him and cradled in a strong pair of arms. Despite the rocky start, Neil thought this might have been his best Christmas yet.

-------

I really hoped you liked it and if you do want that part two, I’ll be more than willing. I’m actually quite happy with the idea:)

#aftg exchange #andreil fluff #andrew minyard #neil josten #katelyn #aaron minyard #christmas fic #long distance relationship #angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #aftg fic #my fic #all for the game #my writing #haz writes

[exyjunkies]

So how do yo feel about writing an AU where Mary lives BUT Neil thought she was dead until she shows up at PSU after everything happens

i have always wanted to write out how the Mary Hatford would be like. shit. i’ll try to keep this short!

au meme: neil josten + thinking Mary Hatford was dead, when in fact, she actually wasn’t

It was an ordinary, practically forgettable day. From the looks of it, the sun had chosen to retire early, and Palmetto State saw a clear, semi-dark afternoon at around half-past 4.The air-conditioning in Fox Tower was doing a lot more than usual these days, resulting in athletes having to bundle up in their hoodies and jackets.

Nicky was on his preferred bean bag in the living room, trying (yet again) to beat Aaron at another round of Mario Kart. Kevin, for all that could be said about miracles, was at Exites, because the store had booked him for a merch signing event. Wymack had called off practice for the afternoon because the court was finishing up renovations.

Boring, the voice in Neil’s head said. Still, his eyes were drooping closed, and the stillness in his system was taking over him fast. He leaned his head against Andrew’s, who was fast asleep already. Neil was in his Fox hoodie, and Andrew was warm and comfortable against him. They’ve been on the couch for the past hour, waiting for the television to be available so that they can watch Kill Bill. Neil was staring straight ahead at the wall in front of them, willing for sleep to come to him too. Really, he felt like his staring could bore holes in the wall already.

A fast, frantic series of knocks came from the door, which jolted Andrew awake and made the rest of them jump a little. It wasn’t like Kevin to knock, and usually, the other Foxes would yell for them if they needed them.

“Uh,” Nicky said, and made a gesture towards the door, which was closer to Aaron. Neil tried to hold back a scoff.

When all Aaron did was stare back at him, he replied, “Okay, fine, I’ll get it.” He hit pause and stood up.

“Nathaniel?” 

The voice–deep, female, a little demanding–came from the door, making Nicky stop in his tracks. Aaron’s mouth dropped a bit, the controller falling from his grip. The silence in the room grew heavy and deafening.

Neil’s heart jumped in his chest. It has been so long since Neil heard his name spoken like that.

Could it be…?

“Hmm,” Andrew was alert now, sitting up and readying his knives. Neil felt his blood freeze in anticipation. Nicky moved closer to the door, putting a hand on the handle. He kept looking back at the others in the room.

“Um, who is it?”

“Oh, I’ll only speak to Nathaniel, if you don’t mind,” the voice came, a little bit of the accent coming through.

And Neil knew it. He knew it so well. It’s been so long, and yet–and yet he could still point out that voice in a crowd of multilingual people. It never failed to stand out to him, the way some syllables were unnecessarily prolonged, how some vowels were emphasized more than others.

Still, he didn’t want to hope. Because hope was a sharp knife that had been through him before, and it had taken so long to pull it out.

“And who are you to demand such a thing–”

“No, Nicky, let me,” Neil cut in, standing up, looking at the door. Nicky shot him back a confused look, and Aaron frowned at him, as if to say what is wrong with you. 

It was so simple. And yet, Neil knew this was such a big turning point. He needed to be ready.

Inhaling a little, Neil braced himself as he walked over, pushed Nicky aside, and turned the doorknob to meet–

“Mom,” Neil breathed out, and the collective gasp in the room (mostly by Nicky) wasn’t subtle in the least. For a moment, Neil felt the rest of the world being closed off, apart from him and his mother.

For a moment, this was all that mattered.

She was a lot thinner, Neil noted. And–if his internal calendar was right, that it really had been only two years ago–it was weird, but she also looked a lot older. Maybe it was the fatigue lining her features, the slight hunch of her shoulders. The slightly rustled floral top, the worn denim jeans. A bandage was covering her cheek. A bigger bandage was wrapped around her forearm. An overnight bag, much like the one they both had while they were on the run, was held behind her back.

A weight on his chest made itself known, and Neil was suddenly very, very emotional.

“Oh,” Mary went, the relief washing over them both, “oh, my son,” and hugged Neil. Unable to hold back, Neil hugged back, wrapping his arms around someone he once thought he’d be seeing for the last time.

And Neil realized, as he hugged her mother back, that this was a first time for the both of them. He didn’t feel like letting go, even as he felt the heavy stare of the other Foxes behind him. It was a monumental moment, one that could very much be taken away from him. So, in a desperate attempt to prove that this was real, he blinked furiously. He wanted this to remain a truth.

This is not a dream.

Neil felt tears rolling down his cheeks, hot and fast. He sniffed, pulling back and looking at his mother through his tears. Even through the blurry haze, Neil saw the smile that had always, always been reserved for him and him alone. Mary closed her eyes and kissed him on the forehead, and Neil hastily swiped at some of his tears, drinking the moment in.

Because for the first time, the both of them were alive and free to be alive. And Neil never wanted to forget how that felt.

#aftg #tfc #neil josten #mary hatford #all for the game #au meme #myfic #anonymous #answered #i decided to go for the emotional route tonight #anyway this will probably flop

[scarredsilk]

Something Real (Chapter Two)

Chapter Master-list tag list: @trashcan-filled-with-fandoms , @moonsandstarsaregay  read on ao3

Neil Josten focused a lot more on who he wasn’t than who he was.

Who he wasn’t was simple and comforting and easily countable.

1. He was no longer Nathaniel. After his final encounter with his father, Neil had permanently changed his name and taken a deal with the FBI.

2. No longer being Nathaniel also meant no longer being the Butchers son. One could not exist without the other and Neil was more than happy to sever all associations.

3. He knew he wasn’t a runaway anymore. The deal with the FBI would only work if Neil didn’t disappear on them. And Neil had spoken to the Moriyama’s and agreed to give them more than half of his pay once he made Court. But with the help of the FBI, Neil didn’t owe the Moriyama’s a thing after that.

However, who he was seemed to be a more complex matter.

Neil was a mystery even to himself. After running for so long and coming up with new identities, new accents, new lives, Neil did not want to admit that there was nothing beneath the surface. That the person he presented to the world was just a conjured-up mess of his pass lies. Neil Josten had a name and a face and that was it.

No, that wasn’t true. He had Exy and Matt and the Foxes that glued him back together time and time again. But besides that? The endless possibilities of interests and hobbies and goddamn living scared the shit out of Neil.

So yes, focusing on who he wasn’t was always easier than focusing on the infinity of who he could be.

And when the days started to blend, and the panic would rise like vomit in his throat, he’d repeat these words like a mantra: I’m not Nathaniel, I’m not the Butchers son, I’m not lost.

Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, Kevin was usually the one to get under his skin.

“Did you forget your brain before coming to the Court?” Kevin asked him one day during practice.

Neil’s day was going sour the moment he woke up that morning. Every brush of an arm felt like a razor to his skin and every word spoken ringed like sirens in his ears. After a few more ugly insults from Kevin, Neil tried breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. I’m not Nathaniel, I’m not the Butchers son, I’m not lost—It calmed him down for a moment, but then he got a good look at Kevin’s face Neil prayed to every God that the punch he would throw wouldn’t break the bones in his own hand.

Before Neil could make the move, Matt was by Neil’s side and put a careful hand on his shoulder. Neil shook him off and stomped his way out of the Foxhole Court.

Back at the dorms, Neil had cooled off enough to feel guilty. Frankly, Kevin deserved to be punch, but Neil felt bad for shrugging Matt off when he was just trying to keep the practice afloat.

Neil shuffled into the main room and sat beside Matt and Dan on the couch. “Hey guys.”

Dan lifted her head from Matt’s shoulder, a dopey smile on her face. She must have taken a nap after such a grueling practice. Neil didn’t blame her. “Hey Neil.”

“Uhm—Matt? I’m sorry for earlier. Kevin just—“

“Don’t worry about it, dude. We all have bad days.” Matt smiled at him so genuinely that Neil’s heart clenched. “And usually I would be the one taking a swing at Kevin. But the monster was watching today, and I didn’t want us dying prematurely.”

Neil slumped further into the couch. “You mean Andrew?” He had never interacted with the other Minyard twin other than a few nods in his direction. Mainly because Andrew didn’t play Exy and there was no real reason Neil would talk to him. But also because Neil got the feeling that Andrew would cut him off at his knees if he tried.

“Yeah, I don’t know why they let him hang around when he’s not a fox.”

Neil considered that for a moment. He knew Andrew had two family members on the team and he was obviously close with Kevin and Renee. The answer was so obvious that before he could get it out, Dan spoke up for him. “Maybe he has nowhere else to go.”

The silence in the room stretched as the three of them pondered over the mystery of Andrew and his motives for sticking around as long as he did. After a few seconds, Matt broke the spell. “Let’s watch a movie before Seth gets back.”

The rest of practices for that week was ridiculous. The small chip in the fragility of the team turned into a splitting crack within a matter of days. And on Friday, the whole thing shattered.

Nicky and Aaron were fighting with Seth, who was also fighting with Allison. Neil and Kevin were spitting ugly insults in French, and Dan, Matt, and Renee were just trying to keep everyone moving.

By the end of practice, the tension in the air was suffocating.

Neil could feel the rage building and by the time he was in the shower all he could see was red. Under the water he scrubbed his skin raw and punched the wall a few times for good measure. I’m not Nathaniel, I’m not the Butchers son, I’m not lost.

Once he changed into his regular clothes, the anger subsided, and the fear sunk in. At the state they were in, the Foxes probably won’t make it into the championships. Neil knew it was already too late to switch teams due to the contract that Kevin had him sign.

Could he make it into court with a poor record? Probably not. His deal with the Moriyama’s would fall through and Neil would spend the rest of his life in witness protection, sleeping with one eye open.

When he got back to the locker room, his team was gone, and Kevin was waiting for him.

“Whatever you have to say, can you make it quick? I have somewhere to be.” He didn’t, but Kevin did not need to know that.

Kevin rolled his eyes, something he did a lot around Neil. “This team’s a mess and so are you.”

Neil’s hands tightened around his bag strap. “Do you get off on stating the obvious?”

Kevin took a step forward, determination settling across his features. If Neil was being honest, it was a little unnerving and he did everything in his power to not shy away from that look. “I believe we can turn it around. That’s why I signed with foxes and signed you.”

Neil scoffed at that. “Sure there wasn’t any other reason you’re forgetting?”

“Do you understand what I’m saying? I believe in you. And this team. Starting in a week or two, me and you are going to have nightly practice sessions.”

Neil shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Nightly practice with Kevin Day sounded like the worst thing in the world. But Neil couldn’t help himself. Kevin was everything Neil wasn’t, and if Neil had a chance to get better at Exy, maybe he could finally be worthy enough to play with Kevin side by side. “Fine. Why not start now?”

“Practice by yourself for now.” Kevin touched his left hand but didn’t seem to know he was doing it. “I’m not—I can’t go too hard too fast yet.”

Neil had assumed Kevin wasn’t playing to his fullest potential at practices. He’s broken, Neil thought. He shook his head like he could clear it. Not broken, Kevin was healing. And so was Neil, in more ways than one.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

The very first night Neil came back to the court for extra practice, he was exhausted from the day. Even though the walk to the court was short, he should have really asked Matt for a ride. His legs were beginning to feel like jelly.

Neil dragged himself through the parking lot, his bag in one hand and a water bottle in the other. If he was more awake, he would have noticed a familiar car parked outside, and might have avoided running into Andrew Minyard altogether.

All through that practice, Neil’s mind ran back to the interaction with the short blonde. The adrenaline of walking into the locker room and realizing he wasn’t alone was enough to pierce through the exhaustion, and now he couldn’t shut his brain off. What was Andrew doing here so late? Was he really just exercising? Why do I even care?

He didn’t care. Neil was just curious. Curiosity is what brought him to the foxes in the first place. He was curious what Kevin had to offer, and curious of how many promises Wymack could keep. But most importantly, he was curious about the kind of life he could have with the foxes by his side.

As Neil smashed the ball down the court, he asked himself if the present was everything he could have asked for. If the foxes were worth it.

He thought of Matt’s smile and Dan’s unwavering loyalty. He thought of Allison’s candor and Renee’s kindness. He thought of Seth and Kevin and Aaron and Nicky and Wymack and Abby and all the people that had called him Neil and meant it.

Yes, it was worth it. They were worth it.

Neil figured he would never see Andrew at the court again. At least, not after practice hours.

But when he made it to the Court one night, Neil heard the unmistakable sound of an Exy ball ricocheting off the plexiglass all the way from the locker room. He wondered if Kevin was finally ready to practice with him. Without even changing out, Neil rushed to the bleachers to see Kevin in all his glory.

What he saw was something from a dream. Or a nightmare, whichever way you looked at it.

Andrew was here, on the Court, and smashing Exy balls like they were nothing. Neil’s eyes were glued to the blonde and nothing could pull them away, even if the ghost of his father was sitting beside him.

Andrew was effortless and beautiful with his swings. He hit each ball with grace and seemed to know where the ball was going before it even left the machine. Did he memorize the pattern? No, Neil thought, that was impossible unless Andrew had a perfect memory paired with years of Exy practice.

But that idea was getting harder to rationalize as Neil watched.

After a while, Andrew’s fierceness turned into obvious frustration. Neil had no idea why, considering Andrew hadn’t missed a shot since Neil was here.

Andrew began to throw himself into each swing, contorting his body every which way. It was like he was fighting something. The machine? Exy? Himself?

Neil knew he overstayed his welcome as Andrew started to pack up. Only being caught in the act could break the trance that Andrew put him in. And as Andrew finally saw him in the bleachers, Neil hoped that he couldn’t see the surely ridiculous expression that was splattered across his face.

Neil was in awe of him. He had never seen something so amazing.

Neil decided that this was definitely a nightmare. Andrew had so much potential and it was dreadful to see him waste it like his.

As Neil walked to the dorms that night, he found himself smiling like an idiot. Andrew played Exy. Andrew played Exy and he was good, really good.

Andrew would be the key to the foxes, Neil could feel it in his bones.

Now only if Neil could get him to play with the team.

#andreil #andreil fic #aftg #aftg fic #tfc #my writing #sr chapter two

[nekojitachan]

Falling

This is one of my owed fics from the aftgremix ‘guess which fic is mine’ challenge - @filteredred asked for a story based on the prompt by  @veronicabuncherites 10.  you’ve been breaking into my car to sleep at night and I’ve let it slide because it’s been cold out but I have a date and I need you to find somewhere else (fine, go in my house/garage, I don’t care, you’re not messing this date up for me)   (found here), for andreil.

I hope I did it justice, of course the mind went in one direction and blew the 1k minimum out of the water. *sighs*

Ah... guess ‘T’ rating - lots of references to Andrew’s childhood in the foster system (nothing graphic, just the whole ‘NOT GOOD’ thing), and dating references. Also, mention of a character being homophobic. This is an AU PSU fic, too.

*******

Andrew internally sighed when he got out to his car and realized that Josten had crashed in it yet again. Normally he tried to overlook it (even though it was his car) because it was cold out, Josten was a fellow former foster kid and the idiot would just sleep outside on a bench or something rather than put up with his asshole roommate – it had absolutely nothing to do with big blue eyes and dark auburn curls which fell into them when not pulled back by atrociously orange bandanas and an impossibly perfect ass.

Absolutely nothing.

Josten was mouthy, temperamental rookie who enjoyed Exy way too much and had been damaged by the same fucked-up system which had spit out Andrew, to the point that Foxes’ favorite bet on the kid (other than him starting fights) was if he was gay or straight. It was almost through the end of the fall semester and Josten showed no sign of helping his teammates settle the bet anytime soon, as he ignored anyone not on the team and even then his relationship with the rest of the Foxes could only be considered ‘platonic’ at best.

Such as him sleeping in someone’s car to avoid dealing with his homophobic, envious, asshole roommate.

Andrew banged on the roof of the GS a couple of times to wake the idiot and avoid a repeat of Neil pulling a knife on him upon being woken up without warning; he’d much rather save the ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ for his date later that night.

As expected, there was the sound of muted cursing when Neil jolted awake, followed by movement as Neil scrambled to grab his meager things (and brandish the ever-present weapon) until he realized it was Andrew standing outside. Then he gave Andrew a tentative wave before he put away the knife and opened the nearest back door. “Hi.”

Andrew gave him a cool look until the freshman exited his car. “Again?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Josten dumped his ratty backpack on the ground and huddled inside his overlarge second-hand coat, the hood of the sweatshirt worn beneath it pulled over his head; he looked ridiculously young at the moment, looked ridiculously attractive with those blue eyes and sharp cheekbones and full bottom lip, which made something inside of Andrew clench hard when he thought about the kid in the foster system. “It was Seth and Allison last night, seems they’re back on this week.”

Huh, usually Renee gave Andrew some sort of warning when her bitch roommate hung out with the loser so he was prepared to find Josten camping out in the GS. “Well, if they’re back at it tonight, find somewhere else.” At Josten’s curious look, Andrew motioned to his car. “I’ve a date.”

“Oh.” Josten hunched his shoulders at the news then gave a lopsided smile. “That’s fine, it’s not supposed to rain or anything so I’ll be fine.”

The idiot was going to camp outside, Andrew thought as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The temps were barely above freezing as an unexpected cold front covered the South, and Josten just shrugged at the thought of ‘roughing it’, even if he was supposed to be from Maryland or some other Northern state.

Josten didn’t say much about himself, other than his parents were dead and he’d ended up in the foster system afterwards at a young age, and Wymack was unusually tight-lipped about the kid, too. All the man had told the team was that Josten was damn good at Exy and had ‘anger and trust issues’, and so was a prime candidate for the Foxes. He’d been Wymack’s and Kevin’s first pick for the team, and those ‘issues’ had basically ensured that not many other teams had wanted him.

Andrew found it suspicious that there’d been precious little in the kid’s file when he’d broken into Wymack’s office to check him out.

Upon meeting him, Andrew had taken in the attitude, the spewed insults, the almost desperate ‘don’t fuck with me’ air and the hidden knives, and gone off to his session with Bee to inform her with some satisfaction that she’d definitely be earning her pathetic paycheck that year.

After she met the idiot, she remarked about how nice it was, for the Foxes to have a new player so devoted to the sport – and an attractive player at that, and when Andrew gave her a blank look in return, produced the low hum she always did when she knew she’d scored a point.

So by all rights, Andrew should just walk away… but for some stupid reason he thought about Nicky taking in him and Aaron, about Wymack offering his brother a scholarship as well as him, about Renee and her knives and offer to teach him how to fight with them.

About a stubborn, mouthy redhead sleeping out in the cold.

“Look, Aaron’s going to be off with his girlfriend,” Andrew managed to get the words out without clenching his jaw too much, “and Kevin’s spending the weekend at Coach’s shitty place, so the room will be empty tonight. You can crash in Kevin’s bed, I’m sure he won’t mind.” The Exy addict would probably be pleased that his mini-me was getting a proper night’s sleep for once.

Josten gave him a wary look as he picked up his backpack. “What about you?”

“Hot date, remember? I shouldn’t be back tonight.” If all went well, at least; Andrew and Roland had been circling around each other for a while, and finally were to go out after Roland’s shift at Eden’s ended that night.

Josten gazed at him for a couple of seconds as if debating what to do or if it was a trap of sorts, but for the most part, the two of them got along – Andrew did let the kid crash in his car, after all, and Josten treated him with respect (or what Josten considered ‘respect’ – a bare minimum of antagonism and insults). “Okay, thanks.” He shivered a little as he shoved his bare hands into the pockets of his thrift-store coat. “I mean, it wouldn’t have been too bad, sleeping on the roof….”

“Come to my dorm room at seven-thirty,” Andrew said, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

“Okay,” Josten repeated before flashing him a wide grin and taking off, in the direction of the stadium, of all places. Andrew figured he was headed there to bother Wymack and get some practice in (and avoid his roommate as much as possible); he pushed all thoughts of the rookie striker out of his head (or tried to) as he got into his car and headed out for coffee and donuts.

Aaron was up when he returned to the dorm, eyes bleary and hair still flattened from bed. “Coffee?” he grunted out as soon as he saw Andrew; he’d spent the entire ride back from their game at Madison studying for an exam on Monday, and would head over to the cheerleader’s to resume in a little bit.

“With extra shots of espresso,” Andrew said as he set the drink carrier on the counter, along with the box of donuts. “And the cherry jelly donuts you like.”

His brother made a pleased noise as he shuffled forward to grab at the large cup of coffee. Andrew waited until he had several sips and a donut before he spoke again. “Josten’s going to crash here tonight.”

“Eh? Neil?” Aaron frowned as if trying to make sense out of the words and grabbed another donut. “What, he fighting with the asshole again?”

When wasn’t Josten fighting with Gordon? The upperclassman was an asshole to everyone, and Josten being a better striker than him meant that he was constantly goading the temperamental rookie on, much to most of the Foxes’ annoyance. “Seems that the asshole got back together with Reynolds.”

“Ah. Well, fine with me, I’ll be at Katelyn’s because of the Physio exam.” Aaron gazed at Andrew as if daring him to object.

“And I’ll be staying with Roland after going to Eden’s,” he shot back; they stared at each other before Aaron looked away first so he could have some more coffee.

It wasn’t perfect, their ‘acceptance’ of each other’s ‘dating’ preferences, but Nicky had forced the two of them to sit down and hash out their differences before he’d returned to Germany. Andrew didn’t step in with Aaron’s girlfriends unless there was proof they were using his brother for something (which unfortunately wasn’t the case with Katelyn – at least yet), and Aaron kept his shitty, homophobic comments to himself. To be fair, Aaron did seem to be working on getting better in not being such a bastard in that regard after finding out that Andrew was gay.

“Whose bed is he using?” Aaron asked once he finished another donut.

“Kevin’s.”

Aaron gave him an odd look like that before sipping his coffee, which made Andrew narrow his eyes. “What?”

“Just… the guy’s not bad looking, considering how half the Vixens flirt with him all the time, and you actually let him live after breaking into your car. Would have thought you might have wanted the excuse to get him into your bed.”

Andrew had the last bite of his cream-filled donut then brushed the powdered sugar from his hands as he gave his brother a cold look. “I didn’t kill him because it would have gotten blood all over the car.”

“A car which you still let him sleep in,” Aaron argued. “All the time.”

“Because he doesn’t fuck with it, he just sleeps there.” Why did he have to defend himself like this?

“You don’t let anyone drive that thing, and you nearly took off Kevin’s arm when you thought he scratched it the one time.”

Andrew gave him a look which clearly asked ‘your point’?

“And don’t think that I haven’t noticed the way you stare at his ass during practice,” Aaron added with evident relish. “You like him. You let him sleep in your car without stabbing him and now you’re letting him crash in our room because you like him, the walking disaster he is.” Aaron wrinkled his nose as if mildly disgusted. “So why are you going out with Roland, who’ll sleep with anyone, instead of Neil?”

“Because Roland will sleep with anyone,” Andrew quipped, just to annoy his brother. “And I don’t like Josten.”

“Ew, didn’t need to know that.” Aaron rubbed at his eyes as if trying to erase some awful image from his head. “And I think you’re just too afraid of being turned down. Don’t know why, you’re the only one he doesn’t give shit to all the time.” He seemed to think of something. “You and Renee.”

Yeah, because Josten knew that Renee wasn’t the goody two-shoes she appeared to be, had somehow caught a glimpse of ‘Natalie’ carefully hidden beneath the cross necklace and friendly smiles. Oh, Andrew was so curious about the rookie’s past, about what really had happened to his parents, about the old, faded scars on that runner’s body he thought about much too much….

“Your brains are scrambled from too much caffeine, it’s not looking good for your grades,” Andrew taunted as he grabbed another donut, which earned him a rude gesture from his ‘beloved’ twin. At least Aaron dropped the topic after that, in favor of brewing a pot of coffee then getting ready so he could leave for Katelyn’s.

Kevin finally stumbled out of bed an hour or so later, and perked up when Andrew told him he had to change the sheets of his bed since Josten would be using it later that night. “He’s sleeping here? Good.” He scowled at the coffee pot as if offended that it was only half-full then grabbed it to pour himself a cup. “Dad tried to give him and Seth some time to work things out, but he’s about to give him a key to the stadium so he can crash there rather than keep sleeping in your car or somewhere worse, especially with winter approaching.”

There was that damn clenching feeling inside of Andrew at the thought of not going out to his car on the weekends or even before practice during the week on rare occasions to find Josten asleep in the back, curled up in a small ball with his ridiculous hair a mess and pale blue eyes hooded with sleep, a sheepish smile on his face at being caught out there again.

Dammit, Andrew needed his date with Roland.

Kevin checked his phone while drinking his coffee, and must have gotten a text from Wymack about helping out with a certain Exy-addicted rookie hanging out at court because he cursed beneath his breath and whipped up one of his disgusting smoothies which he gulped down before he jumped in the shower, then asked Andrew for a ride to the stadium. For a moment, Andrew almost said ‘no’, but he figured he could always pick up a few things while out.

“After you change your sheets.”

“Right.” Kevin nearly tripped over his own feet as he ran back to the shared bedroom.

And there he was, the ‘great’ Kevin Day, Exy’s best collegiate striker (well, unless you were a Ravens’ fan), a complete airhead off the court (and outside of a history class).

Andrew couldn’t wait until he got to Eden’s.

He dropped off his roommate and ran a few errands, went back to Fox Tower to take a nap then went up to the roof to have a smoke. While he was there, Renee stopped by to chat.

“Gordon and Reynolds,” Andrew started as she handed him a mug of hot chocolate.

“Yes.” She frowned a little as if thinking of what to say, bundled in an old coat and a long, orange knitted scarf with matching mittens on her hands. “I was tired from the game and went straight to bed last night, and didn’t realize that Allison left at some point to go to Seth’s room – I thought she just got up for an icepack because of her elbow.” She appeared chagrined about that, since Renee usually paid better attention to things, but it had been an exhausting game and she’d taken a rough hit herself from an asshole backliner who’d crossed the goal line which had allowed Kevin to score a penalty point. “I guess it was so bad that Matt and Kelly heard them in the next room, so it’s no wonder that Neil went out to your car. Dan’s not happy with her.”

Andrew scoffed to show what he thought about that, and the effect it would have on either Reynolds or Gordon.

“Yes, I know,” Renee sighed before she had some hot chocolate. “At the least, Neil should have a reprieve in another couple of weeks when the two start fighting again.”

Ah, someone was showing her claws, how rare. “Or Gordon’s grades finally slip enough to get him kicked off the team.” Andrew pulled on a mock innocent expression when Renee gave him a hurt look. “What? One can dream, can’t they?” At the least, he only had to deal with the homophobic loser for another semester.

“I won’t even bother,” Renee said as she shook her head. “Matt feels really bad for Neil, he’s debating offering to switch rooms with him even though Wymack had wanted to give the two a chance to ‘bond’ as strikers.” A sad smile curled her lips when Andrew scoffed again. “It’s a shame that Neil’s too wary to make any friends, even though most of the team is trying with him, and some people in his classes from what I hear.” For some reason she gazed at him with an inscrutable expression while she spoke.

There were two main types of foster kids, in Andrew’s experience – the ones who tried so hard to be liked, who were friendly and outgoing and did their best to please, to make friends wherever they ended up, to fit in, to not be picked on (to be hurt and torn apart and outcast). Sometimes it worked out for them, and sometimes… sometimes it eventually became too much, the system (the abuse). Then there were the ones like Andrew, the ones who kept a low profile, who didn’t try because what good did it ever do them? All it ever did was make them stand out, make them more of a target, made unwanted eyes and unwanted attention (unwanted hands and unwanted touches) be drawn their way, made things worse.

Neil Josten? The boy with the striking (ha) pale blue eyes and tousled dark red hair just begging to be touched (to be grabbed) and too-pretty face? He clearly had learned that it was best to not be friendly, to keep everyone at arm’s length with a sharp tongue at the very least, and sharper objects if possible.

No, Neil Josten didn’t do ‘friends’. Yet he still seemed to trust Andrew enough to sleep in his car, and accept his offer of a safe place to spend the night.

Andrew found himself leaning forward to let the rush of fear as he gazed at the ground four stories below overwhelm that damn clenching sensation in his chest.

Renee remained a little longer while they finished the hot chocolate then left with the empty mugs, and Andrew went back down after another cigarette. He read some before he gave in to the urge to clean, which he put down to the fact that neither Kevin nor Aaron were around to bitch about him throwing out things or moving around their stuff.

It wasn’t that he wanted the place to look good for Josten, not at all.

Once that was done, he got ready for the night, taking the time to shave and style his hair. It wasn’t often he went out on ‘dates’, all things considered. He didn’t often find guys who weren’t interested in anything more than getting off who could follow his rules, who stopped when he said ‘no’ and didn’t cross clearly defined boundaries. Since Geoff had moved to Atlanta, Andrew needed a new fuckbuddy, and Roland appeared more than eager to be it.

It was a couple minutes before seven-thirty when there was a knock on the door, but Andrew didn’t mind since he was bored and had nothing to do. He opened it to find Josten on the other side, a wary expression on his face (one of his defaults, that or the sharp grin he wore when about to verbally tear into someone or step out on a court, or an otherwise blank expression) as he clutched the strap of his orange and white backpack in his hands, dressed in the usual worn jeans and oversized, light grey cotton hooded t-shirt. “Uhm, are you still sure….”

Andrew motioned him inside as he stepped away from the door. “You’re sleeping in Kevin’s bed and there’s a towel for you in the bathroom. Don’t touch anything else.” He thought about that for a moment. “You can have Kevin’s energy bars and drinks.”

“It’s fine, I brought stuff.” Josten tugged on the strap of the backpack. “A couple of Seth’s friends came over, they’re planning on hanging out all night so… thanks.” He gazed at Andrew, seemed to take in his appearance then glanced away quickly.

Andrew told himself that he was imagining the slight flush to those sharp cheekbones.

He left after making sure that Josten knew which bed was Kevin’s (as if the PSU bedspread wasn’t a giveaway) and swore to not leave unless he locked the door behind him, then went on his way.

It was quiet in the car without Aaron in the passenger seat and Kevin in the back, arguing over what music to listen to on the drive or how the Foxes had played that week (more like Kevin bitch about how the Foxes had played). Andrew hated to admit that he’d grown used to their presence, to watching over Kevin almost as much as his brother, to no longer being so alone. He didn’t need anyone near him, was fine eating by himself at Sweeties’ (and picking up some cracker dust to enjoy later that night and to take back to PSU for Aaron, for after his exam), and sitting at the bar at Eden’s instead of the usual table.

Roland smiled at him once the bartender noticed his arrival, and spent a couple of minutes flirting while setting him up with a bottle of water and a couple of shots which Andrew nursed over time, along with a couple of packets of the cracker dust. He enjoyed the slight buzz of the drugs and alcohol while watching the people around him, the looks he garnered for the tight fit of his black t-shirt and armbands, and the occasional remark from Roland or the other staff who knew him from him and Aaron working as barbacks during the summers.

Andrew would check his phone from time to time (message from Kevin about an ‘amazing’ practice and getting on him to join in on the evening sessions next week - which wasn’t going to happen, Aaron asking to be put out of his misery, a couple from Nicky which were the usual rambling updates, a note from Renee that Gordon and his idiot friends were being especially rowdy that night so it was good that Neil had someplace quiet and warm to sleep).

“Oh, it looks serious, whatever it is,” Roland remarked as he set another shot of whiskey on the counter in front of Andrew. “Hot sext? Nice and steamy?”

Andrew gave the bartender a bland look for a couple of seconds before he clicked his tongue. “No.”

The curt answer seemed to affect Roland, since he gave a nervous laugh and took a step back. “Ah, okay. Is everything all right?”

“It’s fine.” Andrew internally winced as he thought about how often Josten said something similar, that the rookie insisted that he was all right even if he’d been knocked on his ass and was barely conscious. He stared at a man who’d been hit on so many times in the last couple hours, who was attractive and outgoing and more than willing to get him off that night and….

Nothing.

Well, not quite nothing. He thought about how Roland’s eyes weren’t an enticing pale blue, how his hair was too dark to be auburn, the short dreadlocks weren’t messy loose curls, the bone structure of his handsome face too strong and broad, just like his build, and… and….

Dammit, he wasn’t Neil Josten. Somewhere along the line, Andrew’s fucked up brain (and hormones) had become fixated on a half-feral, mouthy redheaded Exy-addict who treated him with cautious respect.

He was so screwed.

(Not that night, though.)

Numb with unwelcome realization, he grabbed the shot to down it in one go, set the glass back on the bar then reached for his wallet to pay his tab. “I’m done for the night,” he declared as he stood up and set the cash on the bar.

“Wait, what? But I still have to work ‘til close,” Roland shouted as he gawked at Andrew. “What about later?”

Andrew gave him a two fingered salute and walked away without any true regrets.

It was after midnight when he returned to Fox Tower; he could hear noise from the suite where Josten was supposed to room with Gordon, but it was quiet when he approached his own. Considering yesterday’s away game, sleeping in a car and then practicing all day, Andrew imagined that Josten had to be exhausted and probably was asleep, if he hadn’t left to crash someplace else.

He was quiet as he entered the suite, which was dark with the lights turned off and nothing obvious out of place. Andrew left his keys on his desk and his coat draped over the chair, then headed to the bedroom. He’d stepped into the short hallway which led to that room, along with the bathroom and kitchen, when a shadowy figure appeared in the bedroom doorway.

It was Josten, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, hair even more of a tousled mess than usual, with a knife in his hand. “Oh, it’s you.” He sounded tired and confused.

Andrew clicked his tongue as he leaned against the wall. “Really? I let you stay here and you repay me with blood on the carpet? How rude.”

Josten’s face grew flushed as he glanced at the knife then hid the hand holding it behind his back. “Uhm, I… what are you doing back?”

That wasn’t a denial that he hadn’t planned on stabbing someone, how interesting. “Change of plans.”

“Oh.” Something like disappointment flashed across Josten’s face for a moment and then he summoned up a weak smile. “Give me a minute to get my stuff and I’ll be out of your way,” he said before he turned around to go into the bedroom.

As if acting on its own, Andrew reached out to grab onto the loose sleeve of Josten’s t-shirt; he didn’t know who was more surprised, him for not being stabbed or Josten by the action. “You don’t have to leave,” Andrew said, his voice rough for some reason.

Josten frowned for a moment but didn’t pull away – in fact he remained still but didn’t seem tense or upset about Andrew’s nearness. “But you let me stay here because you’d be elsewhere. Now that you’re here, I’ll go.” That damn lopsided smile appeared as Josten nodded toward the front door. “There’s always your car, right?”

“Stay,” Andrew ordered as he let go. “Kevin changed his sheets, don’t let such a monumental effort be for nothing.”

Josten gave him an intent look as he sheathed the switchblade. “It won’t bother you, me being here?”

Oh, now that was a loaded question. “You snore?”

“No.”

“Then get back to bed.” He met Josten’s searching gaze with a blank one of his own until the rookie finally did as he’d been told.

Feeling drained all of a sudden, Andrew went into the bathroom to get ready for the night, and was pleased to notice that Josten hadn’t left a mess when he’d used it; the towel he’d left out for him had been refolded and placed on the sink, the only sign that someone had been in there. Andrew didn’t waste any time before he went into the bedroom.

Josten was in Kevin’s bed, the duvet pulled up to his nose and his eyes closed, but somehow Andrew doubted that the kid was asleep. He took his time changing into cotton pants and a clean t-shirt for bed, and noticed that the duvet was tugged up even higher when he went to climb into his bed.

Interesting.

It should bother him, having a stranger in the room, but from all appearances, Josten had obeyed the ‘don’t touch anything’ rule since nothing but the towel had been out of place, and had been willing to give up his warm bed for Andrew’s comfort. As much as he hated to admit that Aaron may be the slightest bit right….

Fuck.

Tomorrow, he told himself as he contemplated smothering himself with the pillow. Tomorrow he’d deal with this… whatever with Josten. Neil. With the improbable pipedream faking sleep a couple yards away.

At least his fucked-up hormones knew enough to fall for a pipedream who had good tastes when it came to picking cars to break into, he consoled himself right before falling asleep.

*******

I have WAY TOO MUCH of a backstory built for this, obviously. Nicky never worked at Eden’s, just Aaron and Andrew during summer breaks, so he never got beat up and Andrew put on drugs. That meant he could leave to go back to Germany, but not before he put some extra effort into making the twins get along better (a LITTLE easier to do since Andrew wasn’t on meds). Kevin went to Wymack, not the Nest, when his mother died. There’s still some Moriyama drama going on - Riko gave him grief for not going to E.A. for university, and for recruiting Andrew, which is why Andrew is watching out for Kevin (Riko tried to pull a stunt when Andrew turned down E.A, but Kevin had warned him beforehand that something might happen, so Andrew feels something is owed and refuses to let Riko win).

And of course, Neil ended up in the foster system - Mary and Nathan killed each other one night instead of her running away, and the Feds gave him a new name and put him in the system. While not the horror that Andrew endured... it wasn’t good, especially w/ the Feds shuffling him around all the time.

Uhm, think that’s the main stuff.

Anyway, @filteredred, I hope you liked it!

Three more to go, since this week is probably going to be really busy, I’m going to try to work on them and not Ghost in You (I FINALLY finished ch14), and then get back to that story.

#aftg #pre-andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #kevin day #renee walker #aaron knows what he's talking about #andrew in denial #aftg au #neil with no self-preservation what else is new #filteredred