alright, serious topic: which of the foxes would vape and which would say it's better to just smoke an actual cigarette?

Seeing people reacting to tsc and them getting shock over things I thought was obvious and I was getting annoyed until I realised maybe not everyone reread aftg like a million times and have read most of the analytical posts and yeah maybe I am the problem instead

The King's Men - Chapter Twelve

Day: Friday, March 8th / 9th* Time: 10:45 PM EST

Neil swallows against the stone in his throat and tries to school his expression into something calm. He continues down the hall on feet that wanted to carry him anywhere but here. Nicky jumps to his feet when Neil steps into the den, grinning ear to ear. "Hey, Neil! We were starting to think you'd drowned in there." "I'm sorry," Neil says. Nicky waves it off, thinking Neil is apologizing for the wait, and goes to grab his bag. Neil watches them gather their things, looking from one face to the other and trying to savor these last impossible seconds. Wymack watches over them all from the corner, an unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth and a triumphant smirk still twitching at his lips. Abby is repacking her bag; she'd likely been checking on the scrapes her team picked up in the brawl. The five feet between Neil and his team could have been five thousand miles. Looking at them all, Neil is as sad as he is proud. He is destroying their chances of making it through the season, but the girls still have one more year. They'll be bitterly disappointed by the near-miss but they are fighters. They'll come back swinging next year and they won't let anything stop them. He is sorry to leave them with all of his lies, sorry they'll have to get the truth from Kevin after the fact. They are all right here with him still but he misses them with a ferocity that threatens to turn him inside-out. Only Andrew see's the strain in Neil's mask. He crosses the room to stand in front of Neil, a silent demand in his stare. Neil wants to answer that, but he doesn't know how. German is the obvious answer because it will afford them a little bit of privacy, but Romero and Jackson don't understand German. They won't know what he is saying and they will have to react like he is spilling every dark secret. Neil can't allow that. He doesn't want to leave Andrew with nothing, but what can he possibly say? "Thank you," he finally says. He can't say he means thanks for all of it: the keys, the trust, the honesty, and the kisses. Hopefully Andrew will figure it out eventually. "You were amazing." He meant it for Andrew's ears only, but Allison is close enough to overhear. She sends Matt a significant look. Neil see's it in his peripheral vision but doesn't take his eyes off Andrew to see Matt's reaction. He doesn't want to look away, as if by holding Andrew's gaze he can somehow save this moment. Then Wymack is motioning for them to head out and Neil has no choice but to turn his back on his teammates.

Art used with permission by I-Am-Weis. Thank you @i-am-weis!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

Inhale

my little entry for @aftg-420-fest !! <3

andreil, 1k words, rated T

summary:

“Want any?” Andrew asks, but he’s not holding out the joint anymore. The next inhale that Andrew takes, he holds for only a few seconds before releasing, the smoke brushing past Neil’s cheek. Neil blinks at the sudden onslaught and he catches on to what Andrew is offering.

read it on ao3 or literally right here!

Inhale

A soft flick of metal striking makes Neil look up.

For a split, panicked second, the sound reminds Neil of a cigarette lighter and the passenger seat of a police car. Before that old terror can take hold, Neil’s gaze catches on Andrew’s face.

His pulse steadies.

Andrew flicks the lighter again and takes a slow drag from the joint he has tucked gently between two fingers on his left hand. Neil’s brain gets stuck on Andrew’s familiar fingers for longer than strictly necessary, but he manages to pry his attention back to Andrew’s eyes.

Judging by the look Andrew is giving him — something unsurprised and almost smug — Neil was obvious in his distraction.

“Staring,” Andrew says, and then takes another, smaller hit, inhaling deeply before releasing the smoke into the air above Neil’s head.

They’re on the roof, and the sun is setting, and Neil likes this so much. He tucks his hands behind his back, officially bidding goodbye to his textbook that’s open on the ground in front of him. He and Andrew have been occasionally coming up here on weekends for hours at a time, now that it’s warm enough to do so. Andrew was a bit smarter for the long term with his pants and orange hoodie, but Neil is perfectly content in running shorts and a long sleeve. He’s sitting in an easy stretch on the blanket that Andrew had brought up with them, his foot a few inches away from Andrew’s.

He pokes Andrew with his socked toes.

“Know what year the War of 1812 was yet?” Andrew asks in retaliation.

Neil doesn’t answer but shuts his textbook, shoves it off to the side, and then scoots in closer.

Andrew holds out the joint in offering, but Neil doesn’t take it. He has smoked with Andrew a few times since Andrew and Aaron picked it up, and doesn’t mind it when they do with more regularity, but he hasn’t really gotten the hang of it yet.

When Neil scoots in even closer, Andrew tucks his legs in so he’s cross-legged between Neil’s outstretched legs. Neil tucks one up and Andrew’s hand immediately goes to his knee, softly running his fingers over Neil’s skin, tracing the shape of his kneecap.

“Want any?” Andrew asks, but he’s not holding out the joint anymore. The next inhale that Andrew takes, he holds for only a few seconds before releasing, the smoke brushing past Neil’s cheek. Neil blinks at the sudden onslaught and he catches on to what Andrew is offering.

He shrugs, and then eyes Andrew’s mouth, where he’s already drawing the joint back to his lips. Andrew wraps his mouth around the filter, and then inhales, his cheeks bowing in with the movement, and Neil doesn’t bother to hide his staring again.

“Andrew,” Neil says.

Lifting his hand from Neil’s knee, Andrew tucks it under Neil’s chin, and draws him close. He squeezes just enough that Neil’s mouth falls open slightly.

His mouth barely an inch away from Neil’s now, Andrew exhales the smoke. Neil doesn’t have to move. He just inhales, sucking in softly, and letting his eyes shut at the feeling of the smoke entering his lungs. It’s easier this way, and Neil hums softly as he lets out the breath.

“More?” Andrew asks, and his voice is low and soft. Neil tries not to get turned on by it. (He fails supremely.)

“Yes,” he says, and Andrew takes another hit, adjusting his hand so he can slide two fingers under Neil’s chin, and pull him in again. This time, Andrew’s lips brush against Neil’s as he exhales and Neil has to focus in order to inhale properly.

Neil has to turn away to exhale and Andrew drops a kiss against the shell of Neil’s ear. Neil turns back to him, and they’re barely a breath apart.

Then Andrew’s mouth is on his, a whispered, “Yes or no?” tucked against his lips. Neil’s responding “Yes” is muffled, but clearly received.

The effect of the weed isn’t immediate, but Andrew’s mouth is, and insistently so. Andrew kisses Neil with an intensity that never fails to absolutely floor him.

They kiss with fervor that only slows slightly as the weed kicks in. It’s barely a buzz in Neil’s skin, just weighing him down, settling his brain a bit. He bites down on Andrew’s lip and then sucks on it, grinning when Andrew inhales sharply. When Neil pulls back just a bit, he finds Andrew’s stare and stifles a smile at how high he looks already — mouth soft, eyes hooded, gaze easy.

“Done?” Andrew asks, holding up the joint, which has long gone out, but could be relit if Neil wanted it. He doesn’t, so he shakes his head. The joint gets dropped unceremoniously on top of Neil’s textbook.

Wind whips across the rooftop, sudden and stinging cold. Neil’s exposed legs get the brunt of it and he shivers, but the gust is short-lived. With the sun this low to the horizon, it is colder than when they first retired to the roof. Neil scoots in closer to Andrew, and Andrew completes the move by gripping Neil around the waist and tugging him up into his lap. Neil wraps his legs lazily around Andrew’s hips.

“Andrew,” he murmurs, face pressed into his hair.

Andrew doesn’t say anything and sets his mouth against Neil’s neck, leaving a kiss there and then tilting his head to run his nose along the same spot.

“Andrew,” Neil says again, and it’s a sigh this time. Barely there, whipped away in the next harsh breeze.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Stop being so comfortable,” Neil mumbles.

Not rising to the comment, Andrew tucks his face fully into Neil’s neck and rests more of his weight on him.

It’s not Neil’s fault that he falls asleep a little bit. It’s not his fault that he never feels safer than he does in Andrew’s hold.

Andrew doesn’t call him on it. He just holds him. Neil trusts Andrew to take his weight, to hold him there.

Neil trusts Andrew to wake him up if he’s going to smoke more.

A New Bet

Andrew had been mulling over his theory for long enough. He needed a sounding board of some kind — And Neil was the most objective person he could think of for this.

"I have a new bet to propose." Andrew broke the silence as they sat on the roof, wasting away their Wednesday evening.

Neil wasn't one for bets, but Andrew introducing one was enough to pique his interest, apparently. "A new bet? What about?"

Andrew waved the hand that held his cigarette, feigning nonchalance. "It's about Coach and Abby; I think they're together."

Neil tilted his head in confusion. Andrew did not think it was cute. Absolutely not. "How is this a new bet?" He asked, a small furrow between his brows.

"Because it's not just them." Andrew elaborated, trying not to sound pleased with himself. "It's Bee too."

Neil didn't answer for a long time, seeming to chew that over. Andrew had been visiting Bee weekly for almost three years now and had been piecing together this theory for quite a while. But he was sure of it — Abby, Bee, and Wymack were some sort of thruple. A polycule, or whatever.

It seemed glaringly obvious now that Andrew had finally said it. Pretty much the whole team was in agreement about Wymack and Abby being together. Even those who had put money against it had eventually changed their minds, from what Andrew could tell. But no one had considered how the team's psychiatrist fit into the equation.

Eventually, Neil said, "I'm not taking that bet."

Andrew almost groaned. Of course this Exy obsessed fool wouldn't be of any help. "Seriously, are you still not doing bets? Even with me?"

Neil huffed a small laugh and stole Andrew's cigarette. The little shit. "Oh, no, I'm not taking that bet because I agree with you."

Oh.

"Damn," Andrew would have laughed, if he were the type to do such things. "Guess I'm going to have to find some other idiot on this team to swindle."

Cross posting here as well on A03, but here is my @aftg-mixtape gift for @foxywrites! I hope you enjoy!

Song was "Someone to You" by Banners, go listen!

--

It's a Tuesday when Neil gets the letter.

By all accounts, it’s a totally unremarkable Tuesday. He comes in from his morning run, hoodie pulled over his hair as the rain pounds the pavement with the same cadence as his feet. Neil wasn't personally so precious about his hair, but he could hear Andrew's voice in his head, telling him he was as bad as a dog, shaking water out all over the apartment. 

He smirks to himself as he snatches the mail out of the box, trying to shield the paper from the elements and failing miserably. He closes the door with his foot as soon as he's inside, throwing his hood down to get the wet garment off as soon as possible.

“Don't-”

“Shake my hair.” Neil flashes a grin. “I know.”

Andrew throws him an unimpressed look from where he’s curled on the couch in his pajamas. “Hmm.”

“You're just mad because the rain woke you up.”

“What was in the mail?”

Neil snorts at Andrew's obvious deflection and shrugs, tearing the envelope open with his teeth. “Dunno.”

He scans over the page quickly, not used to getting a lot of mail. Most of his information is sent to him directly by his publicist, who had been warned by Wymack that Neil couldn't be trusted to check his email. She's one of the four people whose calls he knows he has to take when he sees their names come up on his phone. Everything else still takes at least two days for him to remember to respond to. 

To anyone else, it would be a form letter, a quick piece of mail destined for the recycle bin. But Neil just stares at it.

“What,” Andrew repeats, more a demand than a question. He's sat up, face neutral but the line of tension in his shoulders makes it clear that he's curious of what Neil will do next, ready to pull him back from the edge if need be.

“It's a letter to renew my license,” Neil says simply.

Presumably, Andrew does the same math Neil just did. “Five years since you became a real boy.”

“Five years,” Neil echoes, still staring down at the paper. It's been long enough that his hand doesn't freeze on the page when he signs his name, that answering to it feels more like an automatic response than playing a part, but something about seeing it on such a boring piece of paper makes his breath catch.

You are going to be Neil from now until death.

He was Neil, and no one could take that away from him. When he first signed the piece of paper affirming that the jumble of letters on the page made up who he was, it had felt surreal, another dream that was held out to him but just out of reach. But now, it was the name on his lease, the name that displayed every time he took to the field. The name on the envelopes sent via mail forwarding to Andrew’s apartment every off season. It was his.

“Your reaction is what DMV employees dream about,” Andrew deadpans. “You should ask about a sponsorship.”

“Five years ago I wasn’t sure if I would be alive long enough to need to worry about things like this,” Neil answers. “I didn’t know if Ichirou would find me worth keeping around.”

Andrew’s jaw clenches at the mention of Neil’s deal, but he evidently decides against jabbing that wound for the time being. “Neil,” he says simply, letting it curl through the air. It’s matter of fact, but Neil loves the way his name sounds when Andrew says it, like it’s a fact as simple as gravity or the sunrise.

“Andrew,” he says back. He places the letter on the kitchen table, electing to join Andrew where he lounges on the couch. As he sits, he lets their legs press together, taking as much warmth as he can from Andrew while he’s still sleep warm.

“You need to shower,” Andrew says, but makes no move to push Neil away.

“In a minute.” Right now, he’s content to look his fill. Morning Andrew is a rare joy that only Neil really gets to appreciate.

He drifts off on Andrew’s shoulder, and neither of them move until the afternoon.

–

It takes a few weeks for Neil’s new license to come, after the annoying visit to the DMV to get the photo taken and fill out paperwork. When it does, Neil stares at it for a little too long, cataloging all the little changes that have happened in the last five years. It’s still him, just with a few more freckles, a little less glow. All around him, people are terrified of aging, but Neil relishes it. Wrinkles, the random gray hair from time to time, they all add up to something Neil never thought could be his. In its place is a different fear, the fear that comes from being a dead man walking for so long that he never imagined what the future could look like. Its a feeling he knows Andrew shares, the terrifying thrill of building something from scratch what had only been black and haze before.

The exy offseason isn’t long as a mostly year-round sport, but the summers are filled with him and Andrew and the road, getting in the Mas, picking a direction and driving until the sun is high in the sky. Driving with Andrew is as close to an answer to his questions that Neil feels he can get. There’s something about it that lets him live outside of time, where all that’s real is the next ten miles.

It’s one of those days that they stop at a diner in Kentucky, and Neil watches Andrew as he scrapes the toppings off a burger and mashes it together into some kind of burger salad, pouring hot sauce over it to top it off. 

“What do you think about your name?”

The question rolls off of his tongue, and Andrew just tilts his head, staring at the jumble of ingredients like they’re a magic eight ball.

“It is my name.”

“Yeah, but do you like it?”

Andrew looks up at that. “I did not pick it out. It is a collection of syllables.”

“You know it’s more than that,” Neil says. “You told me once I didn’t look like my father’s name.”

“You didn’t,” Andrew says. “You look like Neil.”

It’s not that Neil wants him to change his name. Andrew suits him. But Neil knows the weight that comes with carrying the legacy of a family you didn’t choose, one that didn’t know you the way they were supposed to. For him to carry the last name of someone he barely knew- someone he was responsible for the death of- seemed like a lot of baggage to carry.

“Why did you keep your last name?”

With anyone else it would be a rude question, but Andrew has never balked at bluntness. He does, however, dodge questions he doesn’t want to answer, and he half expects another non-answer. Andrew doesn’t lie about things that matter, but Andrew’s definition of truth is absolute. He had to pick his questions carefully.

“Too much paperwork.”

“Andrew,” he says. Like with the keys, Neil knows Andrew well enough by now to know that he’s avoiding a truth that hurts. Neil won’t rub salt in the wound, but he knows how badly Andrew had wanted to be a Spear, and what it had cost for him to give that up. Names meant you were someone, but they could also mean you belonged to someone. And the idea of any part of Andrew belonging to some unnamed person who left his mother, or to Tilda even in the grave, burned Neil more than he dared to say.

“It is not as though there is anyone left but me and Aaron.” He moves his fork around, stirring intently. “I didn’t care about my name. Before I learned I had a brother.” 

“And now?” Neil asks.

Andrew shrugs. “You hate your old name because you hated your father. I feel nothing toward Tilda. She was nothing to me.”

Neil cups his own cheek in his hand as he thinks. “For so long, I thought a name was a collar. But- it doesn’t have to be. You can belong with someone without belonging to them.”

“This is sounding more and more like a marriage proposal,” Andrew says, though his voice sounds curious rather than biting.

Neil shakes his head. “A marriage is just another deal.”

Andrew hums. “And taking someone’s name is known for being a strings-free attachment.”

“I didn’t say I wanted you to take my name. Just maybe that our names might go together.”

Andrew leans back. “You just renewed your license. Do you have some kind of paperwork fetish you never told me about?”

“I’m a math major, of course I do.”

Andrew huffs what Neil knows by now is a laugh. “There will always be more papers for you to sign your shiny name on then, junkie.”

Everyone called Andrew the possessive one, but Neil didn’t know what to call this itch below his skin, the desire not to keep Andrew for himself but for everyone to see that they fit and that Andrew was as permanent as Neil Josten. For Andrew to feel the same thing Neil did every time he put his name on paper.

To know that just as Neil had chosen himself, he had chosen Andrew too.

Andrew nudges his hand toward Neil’s, wrapping their pinkies together across the dingy table. “Names aren’t the only way to belong. I chose you and you chose me. Neither of us are going anywhere.”

It’s the certainty in his voice that calms Neil’s jackrabbit heart. There’s a part of him that leaps toward permanency, but Andrew is solid enough to remind him that he already has enough to hang on to. 

Neil smiles, and they enjoy the silence until the plates are cleared and the sun is Neil’s favorite shade of orange. As they leave, he lets a smirk take over his face. 

“How long do you think Kevin would yell at us for if we got tattoos?”

Andrew hums as he turns the ignition. “Might be interesting to find out.”

Three months later, Neil hangs up on Kevin at minute eleven. 

once again asking for vampdrew (also, your thoughts on TSC?)

WIP Wednesday (4/17) | Vampire Andrew AU (Part 110)

“They aren’t eavesdropping. They’re discussing your little prodigy and if I’ll end up killing him,” Andrew says, hoping to murder Kevin’s… enthusiasm. It works like a charm and the scent of his arousal evaporates instantly. Huh, if the mere mention of Neil can do that—

Oh shit, Andrew’s fangs threaten to pop again. Damn it. Neil Josten— boner killer and fang magnet. Andrew laughs internally. Neil is definitely not a boner killer. He’s so attractive it pisses Andrew off. He doesn’t have Kevin’s sexy polished appearance, rather he just looks good for seemingly no reason. Hmm...

Andrew wonders if there’s still blood on his face and if it would be worth it to try and lick it off. Something primal whispers into his head with another idea, Neil is only a few miles away. He’s So close. So close. Andrew could be there and back in minutes. He could even hide the body in the new construction site on campus. No one would ever—

“Andrew,” Kevin starts, pulling Andrew back to his senses once again. “Is Neil going to be a problem?”

“A huge problem. But I can handle it.”

“You said he smells almost as good as me…”

“Jealous?” Andrew asks, to push his buttons. He doesn’t expect it to work so well. But Kevin tosses his head and gives a haughty laugh.

“Of course not.” He lies, as if Andrew hasn’t got a front row seat to his mind. “I’m worried. I remember how you acted around me when I first came here. How fucking weird it was. I had no idea what was going on, but Nicky and Aaron were constantly and obviously removing me from your presence.”

Andrew huffs and rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t constantly.”

“It was. And it was noticeable. It freaked me out a lot,” says Kevin, the man raised in a cult. Okay, Maybe it was obvious. Andrew doesn’t remember anything but the need to taste him. Kevin clears his throat. “That being said… Should we start doing the same with Neil?”

“I don’t know yet,” Andrew answers honestly.

“We’ll do it if you need us to. Sort of run interference and keep you two away from each other.” Kevin says, a frown wrinkling his brow. “Except for practice. I don’t know what to do about practices.”

andrew / neil hc

maybe i’m just probecting here but andrew can recognize footsteps immediately, and he’s never brought it up bc whenever kevin walks by outside his dorm or soemthinf andrew goes “close the door kevin” or some shit like that, it freaks everyone out.

one time they even tried to chnage the way they walk, or wear different shoes, but andrew knows that even the little things play a part in this.

it didn’t matter if they wore high heels or slippers, if they sped up or slowed down. andrew could still recognize the sound of everyone’s walk. and they thought it to be insane.

andrew just shrugged it off, bc who cares anyway. they already think of him using words with negative connotations, what’s one more?

yet of course neil was different.

when he and neil were sharing a dorm, neil was sat inside and andrew had just been walking in the hallway outside their room when neil greeted him.

“drew! you’re back early”

“howd you know it was me?” andrew inquired, leaning on the doorframe

“by the way you walk obviously, your footsteps???” neil replied, as if there was no answer more obvious than the one he had just given

andrew clenched his jaw to suppress a smile. neil had recognized him. by his footsteps.

he felt a sense of comfort- of relief. but he knew the ability to do that did not come because he and neil were talented or skilled.

it was something they both had to learn to do in order to survive.

and maybe that was just something else that had them both going in the same direction.

A note on Korean!Renee headcanons:

I love Korean!Renee headcanons (cuz the better for self-projection and all that lol) so much. Every time I see a mention in a fic of her being described as Korean, it instantly makes me happy. My own personal headcanon is that she’s half-Korean and half white, with her father she never knew being her Korean parent.

The thing is though is that I’ve yet to see anyone actually think through/process what that would mean for Renee and her backstory (prob cuz fandom, especially the AFTG fandom, strikes me as being very white lol). Speaking from personal experience, being half-Korean and half white in the US, specifically if your Korean parent was either born in the US themselves or not in the picture for your life, is a very culturally isolating thing. You get to experience all that lovely racism and social exclusion from basically everyone cuz it’s super obvious to white people that you’re not white but for Koreans you’re also an outsider cuz you clearly know nothing about Korean culture, not the language, not the holidays, not the customs, not the history, not the food (hell you might not even know how to use chopsticks (I have Thoughts about which Foxes I think know how to use chopsticks and why (the answer is Kevin and only Kevin) but that’s another story)).

It’s even worse if you’re in a part of the US that doesn’t really have much of a Korean community present cuz you don’t even have the opportunity to even try to learn about your own culture that you’ve been isolated from, and that’s exactly the situation Renee would’ve found herself in. Every place Renee would live in in canon would have barely any East Asian community to speak of in the time period when she’s living in, let alone a Korean community (given that Korean immigration to the US has historically heavily centered around Southern California and Renee grew up in the Northern Midwest) (Korean population distribution in the United States). I can guarantee that Renee was almost always the only Korean kid in a room at any time when she was growing, hell maybe even the only Asian kid at all.

That’s an incredibly isolating experience that is incredibly underutilized cuz it actually in a lot of ways could play very well into her backstory. Maybe it contributes to her joining her gang or maybe it’s part of why she latches so hard onto Stephanie and her religion. Religion is a major major part of the Korean immigrant experience and in a lot of ways was the only way to find a sense of community when there were no Koreans around (Minari (2020) demonstrates this perfectly).

Maybe it’s part of why she and Andrew are so similar, that they’re both individuals isolated by circumstances outside of their control in their childhood and surrounded by people that don’t/can’t fully understand them for many reasons (obviously I’m not counting Neil).

Idk just thinking about Korean!Renee and the specific ways in which the potential of that headcanon is incredibly underutilized by the fandom

(Hi Ashhhhh I’m here to be filler if you have time/a break for more hehe)

Can we see the next bit of New Kings or a bit you’re excited to show off 👀 love you thank youuuu 💕

WIP Wednesday - Closed (9/20/23) | New Kings AU

Eventually almost all of his Foxes make their way to Wymack's room. Andrew eventually decided that he would be the one that took the couch and it hurts something in Wymack that Andrew feels like he needs to put his back to something but he won't take it personally. Not when Andrew's doped up on his god awful meds and bereft of Neil.

"Where's Allison?" he asks looking at his kids.

"She won't be leaving Seth's side anytime soon." Renee answers which Wymack feels like that should have been obvious.

"You said you would explain." Andrew hisses as Aaron makes his way over to his brother the concern obvious even if his handling was rough.

Your post regarding Andrew’s development in canon vs fanon portrayal hard agree, I feel like because Andrew’s arc isn’t as much of an obvious trajectory beginning vs end as Neil and Kevin have people have this idea that he doesn’t develop or change personally at all when he… clearly does just in more subtle ways imo. Also maybe it’s a thing with him being a love interest (more of a deuteragonist imo but) that fandom really hones in on his development re: andreil vs anything else or his other dynamics (your thing about the portrayal of Neil getting the passenger seat in fics vs canon reminded me it annoys me when andreil fics talk about Andrew’s ‘first real/unmediated smile’ being because of Neil when in canon it was because of Kevin and his deadliest piece speech + tattoo). Considering the books make a point about andreil not being each other’s sole answer etc. parts of fanon really like to make them that/undermine the other important factors and dynamics for their chars and it can get annoying. Because I’m a more hard core Andrew stan I get more pissed on his behalf and when Neil’s non-Andrew dynamics get the same treatment I’m critical but less actively mad I will admit I’m a proud hypocrite staning is inherently hypocritical etc but. My point about the “I am not your answer” and it’s significance for both of them still stands. Like that approach takes away from what I found so lovely about andreil and their story/dynamic in canon

great points great points.. I've talked about it so much before but it actually drives me crazy when people make Andrew/Neil out to be the one important relationship in Neil's life, and get so caught up in the Andreil of things that they shove his relationships with the foxes to the corner. like this seems to be a problem all the time with fans of fiction but people seem to love to try to make aftg a romance and Neil, specifically, out like he stayed for Andrew alone (honestly a lot of the takes that i see seem to be like. he stayed for Andrew, he's friends with Matt, and he basically just puts up with the rest of the foxes) and in aftg specifically i just feel like that's. soooo boring. and sorry but you 100% do not understand Neil if you don't recognize the significance of his relationship with the foxes individually. through them alone his development was through the roof WELL before he ever considered the possibility of a relationship with Andrew

and i realize that this ask was more "Andrew and Neil are their own people not just one half of a couple" and i turned it into "Neil's other relationships are easily just as important" but they do go hand in hand

#kendrils × #happyend

Eng version

First there was Kevin.

He came to Vaymak's house broken, with an open fracture and pleading eyes. All he needed was protection from Rico and his forced ones. And Andrew offered it to him. And he agreed. Only after a long few months it turned into quick kisses at night training, on the roof or in the room when no one was there.

Then there was Nathaniel. He was a distant pipe dream, playing for the Ravens and constantly flashing with Rico and his entourage (or rather with its remnants). This sympathy (he was terribly strong gay and noticed handsome men, nothing more) did not interfere with his time with Kevin in any way. He was very handsome with his red hair and icy blue hair, but he clearly didn't need Rico's henchman (another one, but not about that), and this pain in the ass is definitely not interested in him.

But soon Vesninsky appears on the court, right during training, on the threshold, all wounded and covered in blood. He's a bit like Day in his early days at Palmetto, only he didn't have as much damage as Nathaniel. Renee is one of the first to notice him and runs up to him at an amazing (at least for a goalkeeper) speed, says something, and after receiving an answer picks him up, throwing his arm over his neck.

No matter how amazing it was, he came to Kevin. What is even more surprising is that he categorically refused medical help from Abby until the coach mentioned the hospital and even more so the police. After the examination, he looked better physically and gloomier in person.

Vaymak offers him a place as a striker in the team. He agrees. Andrew, like Kevin, offers him protection. The answer is the same.

Despite Nathaniel's attractiveness, Minyard doesn't even approach him. In addition to the obvious reasons, he thinks (and sees) that the relationship between him and Day is more like a brotherly friendship, and Kevin is quite enough for him.

Everything changes a few months later, a few weeks before the start of the fall season, when Andrew accidentally finds these two in the locker room. Alone. Kissing.

It's enough to set off a mini explosion in his brain as a warning to a bigger one when he's left alone.

He (thanks to his titanic endurance and some skills in silent movement) quickly leaves there unnoticed.

No one needs to know how hard he was gripping the steering wheel when Day and Vesninsky finally show up and get in the car.

And then, after about a week, Nathaniel disappears. Without a trace. Generally. I went out for a run in the morning and didn't come back.

Kevin is on the verge of a panic attack.

He barely explains to the others about his family, past, and his guess where he might be.

And then Wymack gets a call from the FBI in Baltimore.

And the whole team, without collusion, gathers faster than a bullet, goes to the court and gets on the team bus.

A few hours later, after checking into the hotel (helpfully provided by the agents), Nathaniel appears, covered in bandages and blood, but alive. Kevin immediately jumps up to him and starts babbling unintelligibly in French, and Nat pats his cheek and answers, apparently calming him down.

And then the agents declare that Vesninsky, at least for now, is leaving with them. For a while.

Kevin volunteers with him and calls Andrew with a pleading, but not insistent look.

Minyard is powerless.

It is at the FBI headquarters, after several long and exhausting hours of interrogations, that the red—haired guy gets a new name for himself - Neil Abram Josten.

Andrew would never admit it, but he's damn proud of him.

And when Neil whispers "Yes or no?" into Minyard's lips the next day, he barely restrains himself from pouncing on this fucking pain in the ass. Instead, he looks into the eyes of Kevin, whose face is decorated with a light sincere smile and who nods, answering a silent question.

And then Andrew kisses Josten. It's soft, weird and not at all like kissing Kevin, but it feels so right.

And his kisses with Kevin and Neil give him a sense of fullness.

Perhaps they were all he needed.

yOu kNoW, i gEt iT. being raised as a superstar must be reAlly really difficult for you. alwAys a commodity, never a huMaN bEinG. not a siNGle person in your family thinking you're worth a dAMn off the court. yEAh, sounds rough. Kevin and i talk about your intricate and endless daddy issues aLL the time. i know it's not eNtiRELy your fault that you're mentally unBalanced and inflicted with these deLuSions of gRAndeUr, and i know you're pHYsicaLly incapable of holding a decent conversation with anyone like eVEry other normal human being cAn. but i don't think any of us should have to put uP with tHiS much of your bULLshit?? pity only gets you sO many concessions and yOu used yOUrs up about six insults ago. so pLeAsE, please, just shut the fuCK up and leave us aLoNe

The italicisation made it so much betTER because yeH that's exACTly how i saY it in my hEAD

for you-

They were all right here with him still but he missed them with a ferocity that threatened to turn him inside-out. Only Andrew saw the strain in Neil's mask. He crossed the room to stand in front of Neil, a silent demand in his stare. Neil wanted to answer that, but he didn't know how. German was the obvious answer because it would afford them a little bit of privacy, but Romero and Jackson didn't understand German. They wouldn't know what he was saying and they would have to react like he was spilling every dark secret. Neil couldn't allow that. He didn't want to leave Andrew with nothing, but what could he possibly say? "Thank you," he finally said. He couldn't say he meant thanks for all of it: the keys, the trust, the honesty, and the kisses. Hopefully Andrew would figure it out eventually. "You were amazing." He meant it for Andrew's ears only, but Allison was close enough to overhear. She sent Matt a significant look. Neil saw it in his peripheral vision but didn't take his eyes off Andrew to see Matt's reaction. He didn't want to look away, as if by holding Andrew's gaze he could somehow save this moment.

<3

The King's Men - Chapter Three

Day: Thursday, January 4th Time: 7:20 PM EST

"What did I say yesterday?" Neil asked her. "Why did you react like that?" It didn't take her long to remember. "About the knives, you mean." When Neil nodded, she turned her hands over and considered her palms. "You remember I told you I used to be in a gang? There was a man there who went out of his way to hurt me. He liked knives and kept a half-dozen on him at all times. I couldn't defend myself by normal means, so I learned to fight with knives, too. I practiced for a year before I finally bested him. "'Bested'." Renee contemplated the word choice for a few moments before saying, "He didn't survive the fight. Boss helped stage the body so we could pin it on a rival gang and I was promoted. I kept the knives through my trial and my adoption. I wanted to remember what darkness I'm capable of—and what darkness I'm capable of surviving." "You did what you had to do," Neil said. "If he lived he would have come back for you." "I know," Renee said, soft. "There were other girls before I caught his eye; there would be girls after I left. But I didn't do it for the greater good. I did it because he wronged me personally and I didn't want to be afraid of him anymore. I regret what it did to me more than I regret the necessity of his death. I felt no horror when I watched him die. I was proud of what I'd done to him. "I told Andrew what I did," Renee said. "The next day while I was at class he broke into my room and took my knives. When I asked for them back, he said I was lying to myself. If I wanted to remember, I wouldn't hide the knives in my closet like a shameful secret I couldn't revisit or let go of. They weren't doing me any good, so he said he would carry them until I needed them again. "I let him have them because I trusted him not to use them," Renee said. "I thought he understood what they were supposed to be: not weapons anymore but a symbol of what we've overcome. I didn't ask him for his reasons. I knew he would tell me if he wanted me to know." The obvious answer was Drake, but it didn't add up quite right. Neil turned it over in his head, working his way through it, and thought about the scars on Andrew's forearms. Who had Andrew survived: Drake or himself? Neil wasn't going to share that idea with Renee, so he said, "So those knives he brings everywhere are yours?" "Were mine," Renee said. "He was right; I don't need them anymore. If you need them, he will give them to you, and I will teach you how to use them." She wasn't smiling anymore. Neil studied her calm expression and knew she meant it. She'd put her faith in mankind and her Christian piety on hold and show him how to cut a man open throat to groin if he asked her to. Neil was starting to understand why Andrew liked her. She was crazy enough to be interesting. "Thank you," Neil said, "but no. I don't want to be like—him." He didn't say he'd used knives before; one couldn't grow up a Wesninski without having a blade pushed into his hand. Nathan didn't have the time or patience to teach his son but he'd put two of his people to the task. Luckily Neil left home before he progressed past cutting up hunks of dead animals. "Of course," Renee agreed. She waited a moment to see if anything else was forthcoming, then got to her feet. "I shouldn't keep Allison waiting, but if you want to talk more later you know where to find me." "Okay," Neil said.

Art used with permission by Aymmidumps. Thank you @aymmidumps

Fight So Dirty, Chapter Four

Andreil thing based off of this post. Trying to make this a thing, if all goes to plan. Read chapter three first!

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Warning(s): Implied abuse

The walk to the Foxhole court  wasn’t difficult. Not difficult for athletes, and certainly not for a man who had spent his entire life on his feet. At least, it shouldn’t have been. Neil unfortunately was sure he’d go into cardiac arrest the very moment he could see the court, heart pounding in his chest. He thought his feet were glued to the ground and was half aware of how everyone else had already gone in through the double doors, everyone but Andrew who was holding the door open and looking at him with a hint of curiosity. 

Before Andrew could ask a prying question, Neil forced himself to walk through the doors and tried to keep a poker face as he followed the rest of the group into what seemed to be the changing rooms. 

Nicky, with as friendly a smile as ever, gave him his gear. “Hopefully that fits, it’s some of Andrew’s old gear but I’ll get Coach to get you something new soon!” Neil stood there awkwardly with it in his hands and tried not to watch the others change. Unfortunately it seemed Kevin was paying far too much attention to him. “Why aren’t you putting it on?” The taller boy asked as he started buckling on his gear. Neil grappled with an explanation before Andrew shot Kevin a look that had Kevin turning away from them both and continuing to mind his own business. Before Neil could be too grateful though, Andrew stayed there, studying him and apparently not following his own rules. Neil stared back, unrelenting. There was no way he was letting Andrew intimidate him into revealing his scars, because that would inevitably lead to questions that Neil couldn’t answer.

Eventually Nicky, Kevin, and Aaron finished and filtered out of the dressing room but Andrew hadn’t made a single move to begin changing. Eventually the blonde let up and began stripping. “You can’t hide forever. I’ll break you.” 

He scowled at that and glared at Andrew’s back. “I’m not hiding anything.” 

Andrew turned around and was strapping on his gear. “Lie to all of them, but don’t lie to me. You aren’t very convincing.” With that, he left the locker room and left Neil finally alone and able to change. 

As Neil stripped off his clothes and changed into the hand-me-down uniform, he tried not to contemplate Andrew’s words too much. 

The gear was a terrible fit. Too broad around the shoulders and too small around the thighs but it was better than nothing and so he adjusted the straps and did the best to make it work. 

When Neil was done, he walked out of the locker room with the exy racquet in his hand  and saw Nicky waving him over on the other side of the plexiglass. He braced himself and walked through the double doors, grip tight on the racquet. They don’t know  was the reassuring mantra playing over and over in his head. 

Even if Kevin remembered him, he didn’t look the same from the time that they met. His hair was dyed brown, and his contacts were in. Not to mention the change in physique from a ten year old to a nineteen year old. The thought soothed his nerves mildly, and with that he walked over to the group.

“Do you know any warmups?” Kevin asked, a doubtful edge to his voice. Neil hated that Kevin was right in being unsure and shook his head. He let out a long sigh. “Watch and learn then.” 

It was obvious that Kevin didn’t think of slowing down for Neil and quite frankly Neil was quite thankful for that. He would’ve hated being treated differently.

After warmups, they were all panting - everyone besides Andrew who had decided not to participate even after Kevin’s scalding comments. Andrew’s indifference piqued Neil’s curiosity, and he stored the information away for later.

Andrew only moved when Kevin told him to get into the goal. Now would be the challenge, or so Neil thought before he saw Andrew let shot after shot fly by him and frowned. It was even more disturbing how Kevin refrained from saying anything about Andrew’s lack of participation. 

The drills went on for two more hours before Kevin decided they had had enough. Neil took off his helmet and inhaled fresh air greedily, bent over with his hands braced on his knees. 

When Neil looked up, Kevin was looking at him. He nodded. “You’re not good enough, but you’ll do.” With that he left and went to the locker room, Aaron following close behind. 

Nicky frowned at Kevin’s back and turned to Neil, shaking his head. “Don’t listen to him, Neil. You did awesome for your first time!” Then he left. This time, Andrew didn’t wait for Neil to budge and left after his cousin. 

Neil sighed and began gathering the exy balls and putting them in the bucket. He paused on the last ball, considering the weight in his hand. His mother would beat him senseless if she was here. 

But she wasn’t. She wasn’t here, neither was his father or his henchmen. No, it was Neil standing in this court, and this was his chance at something. At least for a little while and damn him if he was going to let it slip away. 

Neil walked to the locker room as the rest were exiting. He undressed quickly and went to the shower rooms, finding that there were stalls and being grateful for it. Neil showered quickly, and dressed again in his old clothes. 

He left the stadium and found the rest of the group waiting for him outside. They walked back to the dormitories. Nicky put on some old movie and Neil pretended to pay attention but he found his gaze wandering to Andrew every so often. 

Dangerous was a given, it’s the reason Neil hired Andrew. But it turned out the other was strangely perceptive, and that was a different level of danger. At some point, Andrew met his gaze and he turned quickly. Neil would have to be careful, but he would if caution would ensure that he could indulge in this fake life for as long as possible.