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jtl-fics · 11 months

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Fluent Freshman - Part 14

When Andrew came out of his bedroom to grab a second Allen wrench (he’s working on the frame of the dresser while Neil builds the drawers) he finds quite a few things to irritate him.

1st was the sound of his brother and his cousin arguing loudly. Andrew had been pretty clear that they needed to be quiet that morning but following Andrew’s clearly given guidelines was NEVER either of their strong suits.

2nd was the fact that there was a smell in the air that Andrew was unsure of. It wasn’t a bad smell. It didn’t smell like Nicky had left some component of the breakfast FF had bought to burn. Andrew sniffed the air again and…..lavender? It wasn’t really a smell that existed in the house of three college student boys.

3rd and most irritating was the fact that FF was not where Andrew had left him four hours ago on the couch. Again, Andrew had been pretty clear to both Nicky and Aaron that FF was to be left ALONE. FF hadn’t been able to go to sleep until Andrew had promised that nothing would happen to him while he slept.

He moves towards the kitchen table where Nicky and Aaron are eating some of the sour patch kids that FF had brought back as they argued, “He can’t be serious that Kate and I gross him out more than Andrew and Neil! I’ve seen how fast he walks away when they start getting gross.” He hears Aaron say.

“Aaron I have watched Smithy climb out a second story window because you and Katelyn started making out and he’d have to walk closer to you to go out the door.” Nicky returns. “I think you made him mad when you implied he was grossed out by Andrew and Neil. This is why I get spoon privileges and maybe, if Smithy is feeling forgiving, you can swipe your finger around the bowl.” he points at Aaron.

Andrew hangs back just out of sight.

He knows that FF does not like to be subjected to seeing PDA. A part of him feels…better at the confirmation that it really isn’t because him and Neil are both men. FF has seen them hold hands, kiss chastely, and lean on one another and been unbothered by that it was only when it started getting a little heated that they’d realize that FF had left. FF never makes a scene about it, never scoffs in disgust or squeals in delight he just seems to see where it’s going and will leave if he doesn’t want to see it.

It’s nice.

“Well he’s probably mad at you for waking him up. Andrew said to leave him alone.” Aaron returns.

“He needs breakfast! He also has to take his ulcer meds at the same time so he had to wake up and eat something. He can go back to sleep after!” Nicky defends.

Andrew scowls. Ok. Nicky could live if that was the reason he woke FF up. Still, why the hell is FF in the kitchen and more importantly what bowl and spoon are Aaron and Nicky arguing over?

Andrew tunes his family’s argument out and heads to the kitchen to find FF putting a baking dish into their oven while incense burned on the counter (Andrew now realizes that was the thin box that had been in with the rest of the candy)

He sees the bowl and spoon that Nicky had mentioned and more importantly he can see the chocolate brownie batter on them. Andrew walks over to the bowl and picks it up. He wipes his finger along the inside and…

He closes his eyes for a moment to savor the flavor of the batter. He leans against the counter and his hand brushes against….a five hour energy bottle. Andrew knows he had thrown out the two he had found in FF’s bags before (Ulcer + exhaustion + FF = bad he didn’t need to be a math major like Neil to understand that math.)

Andrew shoves the bottle in his sweatshirt pocket as FF turns around and stares at him passively. FF’s eyebrow’s raise slightly but there’s no other reaction. Andrew considers that, perhaps, FF had wanted to lick the bowl.

He offers the spoon instead knowing it is the better prize but FF is the one who bought the ingredients and mixed together this amazing batter, so he gets first dibs.

“That wouldn’t be good for my stomach.” He declines and Andrew wonders if FF had taken his meds yet or, in his tired state, he’s forgotten to.

“When did you wake up?” Andrew asks.

“Hour ago.”

He should go back to sleep after he takes his meds but also knows that FF probably won’t go to sleep until the brownies are done.

“I’ll make the pie tomorrow.” FF says and Andrew blinks out of his thoughts.

Andrew decides to go get FF’s meds for him. He’ll make it clear to FF later that the guy doesn’t HAVE to keep making amazing desserts as a thanks for being invited to Columbia. If FF just so happens to WANT to keep making amazing desserts then Andrew isn’t going to be the person that stops him.

He shoves the spoon in his mouth and heads out to go find Smith’s bag and his meds.

Aaron and Nicky see him and both let out outraged noises as their quarry had been stolen.

Andrew ignores them and gets to the bag by the couch.

Who the fuck just has 14 bottles of five hour energy sitting in their bag??

***

When Andrew handed FF his ulcer meds he could admit to feeling grateful even if Andrew had obviously gone through his bag to grab it. He swallows it dry because Andrew is standing by the sink and he knows that until Andrew eats a brownie he is not in a position to ask for favors big or small.

(He learned his lesson from that one time with Captain Neil. If he wants to do anything related to Russian he has to be in the safety of his lofted bed under the cover of night and the cover of his…covers while he reads via flashlight. He will not be caught so flat footed again! These are all necessary precautions!)

Andrew seems to very much want for FF to be in prime condition for the hunt. Part of him wonders if he’ll be released amongst other game animals and FF had never felt more jealous of the turkey who got pardoned by the president the day before. Why does that stupid bird get all the luck? Where’s his presidential pardon?

That grateful feeling evaporates into a dust cloud as Andrew lifts a plastic bag, “Stop drinking these.” Andrew hisses, “They’re going to make your ulcer worse.” He points at FF.

“I need them.” He says.

“For what?”

“Five hours of energy at a time.”

“Pull out the brownies and go back to sleep Smith.”

“They still have 10 minutes.”

“Then I’ll pull them out in 10 minutes.”

“There’s a final step that I have to do once they’re fresh out of the oven.”

“What is it.”

“Smith Family Baking secret. I don’t make the rules.” FF gestures towards where the incense continues to burn, “Great Gran’s recipe and methods cannot be shared with non-blood relatives. My mom wasn’t even let in on the secret.”

Thank god

Andrew glowers at him.

Oh God

“It’ll be just 20 more minutes.”

Andrew’s eyes narrow at him.

“They’ll be worth it.” He pleads.

Andrew rolls his eyes.

“Go to sleep when they’re done. Take Nicky’s room.” Andrew commands.

“Take Nicky’s what?” Nicky leans into the kitchen.

“Smith is going to go back to sleep on your bed.”

“Yeah you look like shit Smithy. Don’t worry, unlike Neil and Andrew’s bed mine is all safe.”

Nicky zips out of the kitchen with Andrew hot on his heels. Nicky really is a good friend.

He performs the sacred rites necessary upon the brownies when they come out of the oven and takes a small corner piece to taste test and -

He closes his eyes and clasps his hands together in prayer.

‘Thank you Great Gran.’ He prays earnestly.

‘Remember to wash behind your ears’ he thinks he hears a whisper of grandmotherly advice in return.

That was probably normal.

He extinguishes the incense.

He cuts up the brownies, finds a decently sized plate, and sets the brownies out on the counter before he starts to work on doing the dishes. Yeah Yeah he could have been cleaning while he waited for the brownies to cook! That’s what you always do right? Clean as you go?

Well have you ever been baking brownies that might be the difference between life and death? No? Well then FF is just going to have to stop you right there because he had the oven light on and his eyes GLUED to these fudgey squares.

Who knows what the cousins’ oven would do? He doesn’t know this oven. He and this oven are taking their first whirl together and it could decide to turn on him at any time. They don’t have the brotherhood that he and the oven at his Gran’s house have built over the years! This oven could be one of those ones that maintain their temperature by turning on the broiler! He felt like he could never again recklessly trust an oven after he tried to make crescent rolls in the Viking Oven at his step father’s house and had gotten them back blackened by the broiler.

That oven had been the SINGLE thing he had been excited about during the kitchen remodel which means naturally it was the thing that had betrayed him.

He lets himself think of all the ways he hates the Viking brand as he finishes the dishes and puts everything back to where they belong.

He walks out of the kitchen with the platter of brownies and sets them down on the table where Aaron and Nicky are sat. “Oh my god they smell amazing.” Nicky says and immediately his hand is shooting towards the plate and picking up a corner piece.

FF valiantly resists the urge to slap his and Aaron’s hands away. He needs these to compel Andrew into letting him live.

“Oh wow, those do smell good.” He hears Captain Neil’s voice and when FF turns around Captain Neil and Andrew are both there. It is only in that moment that he realizes that he should have bought some vanilla ice cream to go with these.

Andrew’s love of ice cream was not unknown, probably even infamous. He was the man who, during the summer training, had been so possessive over the soft serve machine in the cafeteria that anyone who wanted any had to ask Captain Neil to get them a bowl or risk being threatened.

He starts towards the door. At this point Target probably isn’t even that bad, probably just some irate people who didn’t come with the rush and are mad they missed out, maybe some officers talking to witnesses on who threw cast the first Wii remote, and workers who will hate him marginally less (unless he gets the same check out person and they remember him (unlikely))

His progress is arrested by a hand grabbing his hoodie.

“Where are you going?”

“I forgot Ice Cream.” And he could get a five hour energy to slam on the way back home.

He then finds himself being pulled down an unfamiliar hallway.

Ah, the anticipation had been killing him more than the fear of his demise. His brownies had not contained the requisite amount of grandmotherly love to save him he had been relying on extract (Great Gran’s spirit guiding his hands) instead of organic (he does not have grandchildren or children for that matter)

Maybe ice cream would have been the deciding factor? He’ll never know.

He closes his eyes and lets himself be dragged. He’s too tired to fight.

A door opens, and he finds himself sat on a bed.

Weird.

“You are falling asleep standing up. Go back to sleep. I’ll leave you at Eden’s if you fall asleep in the booth.” Andrew threatens.

What.

FF knows about Eden’s.

He has heard about it from Nicky trying to get him to agree to go but he’s pretty sure it’d be like introducing an Amazon rainforest frog to the Sahara desert in terms of survivability for him.

“We’re going to Eden’s tonight?” He manages to ask.

Andrew raises an eyebrow at him but answers, “Yes.”

“I’m not really interested in clubs. I don’t drink out in public or dance.”

“Neither does Neil. I just drink. We can stay in the booth.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your time with Captain Neil.”

“It’s fine, neither of us hate spending time with you.”

“I don’t have clothes for a place like that.”

“Nicky grabbed some for you. You’re coming tonight. Go to sleep.”

With that Andrew pulls Nicky’s curtains close, shuts off the light, and closes the door.

FF, always very much like a bird when placed into a suddenly dark environment, starts to feel some of the exceptional sleepiness that he’d been pushing off through sheer manic desperation to earn another day of life.

He lays down in Nicky’s bed and is tired enough that he can ignore the sheer amount of body glitter on the sheets (does Nicky excrete it like sweat??) and starts to let himself drift off to sleep.

Eden’s might be something completely out of his wheelhouse but-

A conversation with Nicky from when he’d been trying to get FF to go comes into his mind and he sits straight up in bed as Nicky’s words roll around in his head like stale hotdogs at a gas station.

“Eden’s is cool, even though there’s some sick shit in the basement.”

Eden’s is a Secondary Location with a BASEMENT.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Per your requests:

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The requests to be added to the tag list got spread out across a few different mediums on this one so if I missed you then just ask in the replies!

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#Fluent Freshman AU #Andrew heads back out to try one of those brownies #Aaron and Nicky are both looking to the sky #'what the fuck did he DO to these? I would know if there was drugs in them right?' Aaron asks #'Is it straight that I want to kiss his grandma's hand?' Nicky asks #'It's his great grandma's recipe so it'll have to be her grave' - Aaron #'Fuck it. I'll dig up her grave and kiss her skeleton hand. These are divinely inspired.' - Nicky #Andrew tries one #Neil saved him two corner pieces #This is why Andrew intends to spend his life with this man #It's perfect #It's not like box brownies where it's all sugar and sweetness #it's bitter it's sweet is that a note of....spice? it's complex. It makes Andrew want to get a shovel and help Nicky desecrate a grave #He'll get in on the skeleton hand kiss #Maybe he'll take Neil and FF to the really cool speakeasy in the basement of Edens #It's quieter down there which he thinks FF would like #He doesn't have to watch out for Kevin tonight either #That's a good plan #Nicky and Aaron can dance and Andrew can show his appreciation for good baked goods to his friend #Nicky is not allowed near the Speakeasy nor is he allowed to know about it because it's suppose to be a secret #Nicky's terrible at keeping secrets!#He couldn't keep one if his or someone else's life depended on it #So Nicky thinks it's a straight swingers club down there #Which he has zero interest in #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #AFTG shitpost #FF - Pt. 14

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underoosweb · 2 years

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9 and 18 with andrew peter parker pleasee. Like he cheated on y/n and after two weeks of him trying to apologise, y/n died saving him from a villsin and he nver got the chance to say sorry??i'm sorry i just LOVE angst

THIS IS SO MUCH LONGER THAN I EXPECTED IT TO BE AND I'M SO SORRY

Time was frozen. It was quiet. You couldn’t hear a single sound except the sound of your own heart pounding violently. It sounded so loud. You blinked, the tears that welled in your eyes were now running down your cheeks. You felt so stupid for trusting him.

She’s just a friend, you have nothing to worry about

She’s just a friend. She’s just a friend. She’s just a friend.

“She’s just a friend…” You managed to whisper out. He told you multiple times, but why? Why is he shirtless on top of her, lips were swollen, hair disheveled. And her… shirt unbuttoned, pants unbuttoned, lips swollen. You could barely see their faces through the tears, but you remember the looks on their faces when you first walked through his bedroom door. Eyes wide, both looking like deers caught in headlights. You dropped the homemade photo album. One year down the drain. You looked between Peter and Gwen, did he still love her? Of course, he does. Were you not enough for him?

“Y/N…” You hated her voice, she looked sorry, but was she really?

“Baby…” You flinched and looked back over at Peter. You shake your head, slamming his door shut. You ran down the stairs

“Sweetie, you’re staying for dinner right? I made your favorite.” You froze at May’s voice. You took a deep breath

“Not today, May. Thank you though.” You could hear Peter running down the stairs, he froze when he saw May

“Oh, well at least take some to go. Give me a second to get yo-”

“I’m sorry.” You interrupted and ran out the door. You knew you weren’t going to get far, one, Peter had longer legs than you, and two, he’s spiderman.

“Baby! Wait!” You picked up your pace

“Y/N!”

“Y/N” He grabbed your wrist, you stopped. You couldn’t even bear to look at him. He moved to stand in front of you, you shook your head and stepped back. His fingers lifted your chin to look at him.

“I swear it was an accident.”

“I swear it was, I-I-I don’t even know how it happened. I-I Didn’t mean for it to happen. Baby, I swear…”

“It was an accident.”

You sobbed and scoffed in disbelief. His hand reaches to caress your cheek. You smacked his hand away.

“Don’t.” You shook your head, pulling your arm away from his grip. Tears welled up in his eyes, you couldn’t help but scoff again.

“You’re crying? YOU’RE CRYING?!”

“For how long?”

“This was the first time.”

“BULLSHIT PETER!”

“IT WAS! SHE CAME TO GIVE ME SOME TECH FOR MY SUIT AND NEXT THING I KNEW-” Peter stopped himself, your hands rubbed your face, wiping the tears away. You tried so hard, so hard to stop them from flowing, you wiped and wiped and wiped, your cheeks and eyes felt raw. You choked on your sobs, your hand immediately rubbing your chest, right on your heart. Peter felt his heartbreak even more at the sight, his heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. God, he wished he had a time machine, he wished he hadn’t done it at all.

“I-…” Peter sobbed out. You felt like screaming, he ripped your heart out of your chest and smashed it into a million pieces

“You’re nothing but a traitor. You broke me. I wish you would have thought this through before I went and fell in love with you.” Peter felt his heart stop when he hears those words leave your mouth.

“Goodbye, Peter.”

—-----

It’s been two weeks since you left Peter sobbing on his knees on the sidewalk. Two weeks since he broke your heart, he came by your apartment multiple times, begging for you to open the door, the window. Hundreds of phone calls and text messages go unanswered. Even Gwen came by, she knew you were listening and all she said was that she was sorry. You heard someone open your front door.

“Hey, love.” You glanced at your best friend

“Come on, let’s go get some hot chocolate and cookies, brownies. Whatever you want my treat.” You gave them a sad smile, they were trying their hardest. You looked out the window, snow was beginning to fall. You looked back over at them and nodded.

“Give me 30 minutes.” Your voice was hoarse from the crying. They nodded.

—-----

“I’m going to go to the restroom.” You nodded and quietly continued to eat your sweets. Your phone vibrated again, you slowly closed your eyes. You debated on looking at his messages, his voicemails. You pulled out your phone and opened his messages. Before you could send your reply, everything went out, with no electricity. You looked out the window, you saw that familiar red and blue suit swing by. You ran out.

“Peter.” You whispered

“Fuck.” You ran towards him. You knew by the time you got there, he would have already saved the day but you didn’t care. You ran and ran, you pushed yourself to go faster. You screamed when you felt someone lift you off the ground, you looked up

“Harry?” He laughed.

“What are you doing?!” He didn’t respond. He just continued to laugh and laugh. You looked down at Peter.

“Y/N?!” Harry looked between you and Peter. He scoffed

“Peter…” You whimpered out

“When you said Spider-Man said no, you meant you said no.” You looked at Harry confused

“Harry, what did you do?”

“What you made me do. You were my friend and you betrayed me!”

“No. I was trying to protect you. Oh. Look at me. Hey, it's gonna be okay. This is gonna be all right.”

“You don't give people hope. You take it away.”

“No, Harry.”

“I'm gonna take away yours.”

“PETER!” You screamed

“HARRY, PUT HER DOWN. WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS.”

“Harry, please…please” You begged

“Harry. Harry is dead!”

“Harry, this is between you and me. You wanna fight? Fight me! Let her go!”

“Okay.” You didn’t have time to scream. You stopped midair.

“I got you, baby. I got you.” He gently set you down on the ground, his hands on your hips. You choked back a sob. He pressed his forehead against yours.

“Where’s Harry?”

“I webbed him to a gear.”

“Is that enough to hold him?” he nodded

“Y/N, I-” Your eyes widened, grabbing onto him. You pushed him out of the way. You gasped from the sharp blades piercing your skin. Harry’s board was lodged in you. You felt the pain but only for a second, a long excruciating second. You remember falling, but you didn’t hit the floor. Peter caught you, you reached your hand out. You caressed his cheek, you felt sorry that you covered him in your blood. You smiled in relief, he’s okay.

“I’m sorry.” He sobbed out

“I’m so sorry.” You felt your eyes getting heavy, you sighed. Peter wished and begged that his senses were wrong, you weren’t gone. You couldn’t be gone. He shook your body

“Y/N”

“You’re okay, you’re okay…please. Please open your eyes. Please, don’t leave me.” Peter screamed. He screamed till his throat burned

“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” he sobbed out. He pulled you closer.

—--

He had your phone, he couldn’t bear to look at it. It’s been months since you’ve been gone. Peter grabbed your phone and looked at the messages, he sobbed.

I fell in love with you the day we met. Then I fell in love more deeply upon the second time. I had to protect myself from the pain of the emotions. I had to make some effort to get over you. Then, just when I thought I'd made progress on that, you came back. You came back on the exact day I was going to make a bigger effort to move on. So, that is that. The universe wants this. I want this. Peter, I love you and always will. Everything will be okay, I know everything will be okay. You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. I love you, spider-boy.

#peter parker x reader #tasm peter x reader #andrew garfield fanfiction #peter parker imagine #andrew garfield x reader #andrew!peter parker

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msmarvelouswinchester · 3 years

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Irresistibly Yours

Chapter 1 - The Elevator

Summary - Y/N Y/L/N moves to NYC in hopes for a fresh start after a nasty breakup. There she meets her neighbor, the cynical lawyer, Dean Winchester. A love-hate relationship starts evolving between them ever since they met in the elevator one morning but a desperate situation and a string of lies forces the two friendly rivals to go on a date or rather a fake date. Will sparks fly between them when Dean gets to know Y/N real and up close? Will Y/N finally find her Prince Charming in the grumpy, workaholic, divorce lawyer?

Pairing - Lawyer!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - None for this chapter

Word Count - 1981

Square Filled - Moodboard ( @girl-next-door-writes )

A/N - *Cracks knuckles* Ta-daaaa! The series is finally here it's already Sunday where I live and I was dying to share this! It's going to be a wild ride ahead. So buckle up your seatbelts and enjoy the ride!

This is also my submission to @flamencodiva's Writing Challenge and @deanwanddamons' 2K Blogiversary challenge (congratulations on your milestone, Sian). Prompts are in bold.

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 (Thanks again, hon❤️)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Throwing her bag over the table, Y/N slumped down on the couch, letting out a sigh. The pressure from the higher-ups, consistent criticism of your work and impending deadlines were weighing heavily on her shoulders and she was in a desperate need of a break.

She looked over to the stack of papers on the table that now lay abandoned. The rejection from the publishing company was the fucking cherry on top. Y/N buried her face in her hands in frustration as she was almost on the verge of a mental breakdown, a few angry tears rolling down her cheeks. Letting her head fall back, she swiped away those angry tears, letting out a long sigh of defeat.

“Why can't I ever do anything right?” She mumbled, her breathing heavy as she bit down on her trembling lips.

In her late twenties, after a nasty break up, Y/N had a marvellous thought that she needed a fresh start. So she had left her corporate job back in Atlanta and moved to New York to pursue her dreams of becoming a writer. She had secured a good position in one of the leading magazine companies and started to write the novel that she had been planning since she was seventeen, but lately nothing seemed to work out the way she wanted. Sure, she was getting paid well but it wasn't enough compared to how much she had to deal with her shitty coworkers and bosses. She had now lost every motivation to continue her novel after the first draft got rejected by the publishing companies enough times to make her feel insecure about her writing.

“Why can't my life just be a goddamn Hallmark movie?” Y/N muttered under her breath as she picked up a cushion and covered your face, letting out a muffled scream.

Her wallowing time was interrupted by the blaring noise of her phone in the awfully quiet apartment, making her nearly jump out of her skin. Another frustrated groan left her lips as she saw the person calling her.

“I told you to stop calling me, for god's sake!” Y/N yelled into her phone.

“Come on, Y/N. One dinner.” The man on the other end pestered. “You know, at work people talk about how uptight you are. Let yourself go, once in a while.”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. Michael- I'm not interested. I told you a hundred times before and I'll say it again. Leave. Me. Alone!” She said. The line on the other side went quiet.

“Bitch.” She heard him say before the call disconnected.

“Fuck off!” She yelled again, knowing fully well he couldn't have heard her now. Y/N finally decided to put him in her blocklist because Michael didn't seem like he was gonna stop otherwise.

It wasn't that she had a stick up her ass for not wanting to go on a dinner date with her coworker. Honestly, she missed the whole first date experience, but Michael was definitely not the guy for her, or for any other girls out there in her opinion. He threw around sexist comments around the office like it was some cool shit and chivalry was definitely dead for him.

Y/N finally got up from her seat, shoulders still tense from the day's events. Opening the refrigerator, she stood there gawking at the leftovers in it.

“Cold pizza….spaghetti….chocolate brownies….” She looked at your dinner options, weighing each one's pros and cons before settling on - “Brownies it is.”

Taking out the chocolate confection , she returned to the couch. She put on Netflix as she browsed through it's movie section.

“Stupid Prince Charming-” she scoffed, biting into the delicious the chocolate chip brownie in hand. Grumbling at the unrealistic standards of Netflix rom coms, she still pressed the play on the film The Proposal.

Finishing her 'dinner', Y/N picked up the comforter, nestling deep into her couch as she watched the coldhearted Margaret fall head over heels for her assistant, the exhaustion kicked in.

“Fuck!”

And that's how the next morning started as Y/N woke up one hour later than usual. She had fallen into a deep sleep on her couch before Andrew even got to propose to Margaret, which was not exactly the wisest decision as the next morning, her neck and back screaming in pain.

The girl knew she was going to be late to work today by the time she had left the house. Hair up in a messy bun, a bag hanging from her shoulder, she tried to smoothen down the creases on her skirt before rushing towards the elevator in high heels.

“Hold the door!” She yelled at the man inside as soon as the door started to close. She sprinted towards the elevator as the man kept looking at her, an annoyed look evident on his face when he slammed the button, taking a step forward to keep the door from closing.

“Thank you!” Y/N huffed, as she got in the elevator. The man chose to remain silent and he pressed the ground button on the elevator. “I am so screwed today! I have never been this late to work!” She babbled on but the man still maintained the stoic look on his face. Y/N slightly turned to face the man of stone. He was probably in his thirties, his dirty blonde hair, sparkling green eyes and light stubble on his cheeks went very well with the crisp grey suit he was wearing. One hand in his pocket, he just stood there, jaw clenched together, eyes focused on the shut doors.

“You know, I should have set the alarm! Stupid-”

“Do you ever shut up?” The man finally spoke, a look of disinterest passing his face.

“Wow. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me?” His voice was hard.

“I said, someone woke up-”

“I heard what you said. I am just not interested in listening to your morning fuck-up story.” He scoffed.

“Woah, okay.” She widened her eyes at his disrespectful comment, “I just-” The elevator reached the ground floor of their apartment building and the doors opened with a ‘ding’.

“I think you don't want to waste anymore time talking since you're already running late.” Y/N gasped slightly at the audacity of the man. “Have a good day, Miss L/N.” The man wished before moving out of the confined space as Y/N narrowed her eyes at him and wondered how he knew her name.

“Have a good day as well, Mr….” She trailed off as she got out of the vator as well.

“Dean Winchester.” He said as he walked away, never once looking back as Y/N stood there, bewildered at what just happened.

Hands balled up into fists in apprehension, Y/N inhaled audibly, as she stood on the other side of the door. She was late to the meeting by half an hour, twenty-four minutes to be precise and nothing annoyed her boss more than tardiness.

“Y/N, it's a pleasure that you finally graced this meeting with your presence on this fine morning.” Abaddon’s words laced with acute sarcasm made it quite clear that Y/N was doomed when she entered the room. The remaining four pairs of eyes in the room were zeroed in on her, as she abashedly took a seat at the far-end of the table. She couldn't risk her job because of her smartass mouth and she was already on thin ice, so she kept quiet and let Abaddon carry on with the meeting cause even Cruella De Vil would be hiding her face in shame if she ever met Abaddon. She was an Umbridge before her coffee and a Regina George after drinking her coffee. There was no way she was going to spare the poor girl today.

“As I was pointing out, our sales have gone down in recent months quite drastically. Readers are saying the contents are not relatable or entertaining enough….”

A yawn threatened to leave Y/N as she listened to Abaddon go on about the poor performance of the company, her mind preoccupied by a certain green-eyed man. She had never seen Dean in the building before this morning. He was annoyingly good looking and rude and Y/N couldn't seem to get rid of the image of him looking dapper in that grey suit. She was barely able to focus on what Abaddon was saying.

With Dean Winchester still running through her mind, Y/N trudged back to her small cubicle after the painfully hour long meeting.

Plopping down on the chair, covering her face with her hands, she exclaimed, “I need coffee!”

“Thank me later.” She turned her head to Meg as she pushed a hot cup of coffee towards her before going back to her own cubicle.

“Black, just like my heart.” She said before inhaling the strong smell of the drink. Taking a little sip, she let out a sigh of content. “Jesus, I needed this badly.”

“Yeah, you look like shit,” Meg chuckled, earning a glare from her friend. “Did you even take a look at the mirror today? Honestly, I am not even exaggerating, I-”

“Meg, I’ll forever be grateful to you for this cup of coffee, but please stop talking.” Y/N groaned loudly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Michael walking towards her and put on headphones and turning the volume up, trying to look busy. “Heads up, incoming douchebag.” The brunette said. After the hubbub of the morning and the shitshow of a meeting, Michael was the last person Y/N wanted to see.

“Morning, Y/N.” The smug smile on his face made her cringe. This had been going on for a month now. She thought after last night, Michael would finally back down, but apparently she was very wrong. “My messages don't seem to get through anymore.”

“She blocked you. God, take a hint.” Meg muttered.

“She's right. It's ‘cause you can’t seem to take no for an answer.” Y/N huffed.

“One dinner. Just one.”

“No.”

“She said no. Isn't that enough?” Meg jumped to her friend’s rescue when she saw her fumbling and getting uncomfortable. Michael inched towards Y/N anyway, completely ignoring his colleague’s comment, a smirk evident on his face.

“Y/N, don't be so uptight. What harm does a single dinner gonna do?” He asked.

“It’ll be cheating. I have a boyfriend.” Y/N blurted out, making Meg’s eyes go wide, but it actually seemed to work as Michael moved away from her.

“A boyfriend?”

“Yeah. We have been going out for a while now.” The said man frowned as he thought the words over before leaving her space with a little nod of his head. Maybe it worked on him without any hassle, but she knew this lie would come back to bite her in the ass if the whole office got to know about it. Oh, and they would know since turning around, Y/N saw Ruby staring at her, a grin appearing on her face as she took in all the juicy gossip. The lie was now gonna spread like wildfire.

“Spill.” Y/N turned to look at her friend who stood there, hands folded, eyes wide, brows raised in utter disbelief. She puckered her lips as she waited on Y/N to explain who just frowned in reply. “Well? What happened? I want all the details, Y/N!”

“Oh come on, L/N. Share the deets.” Ruby snickered. “Who's the man that actually managed to capture your heart?”

“Dean Winchester.” The name tumbled out of her lips so easily and that was how she knew she was screwed.

Chapter 2

Feedback is highly appreciated!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this series!

#deanwanddamons2kcelebration #girl next door's make me feel bingo #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #au dean x reader #dean winchester #irresistibly yours #au dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n

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pocketsedition · 3 years

Text

aftg as cliche high school au

i got bored and was wondering how the foxes would work in american high school stereotypes and now i’m here so. yeah ignore it if it sucks <3

neil would of course be the popular-kid-who-doesn’t-wanna-be-popular

depending on who you are he could either be really nice to you or the biggest fucking asshole

he’s on the cross country team as well as soccer w kevin (duh)

he mainly hangs out w other ‘popular kids’ like matt allison seth dan and occasionally the vixens but like only because his group knows them

he also vibes with renee occasionally

andrew would be the quiet kid who’s actually an asshole especially to teachers and reads during class is that a stereotype? i think so

he’s also probably a gamer kid and he wears a bunch of rings yes youll see

i’ll get more about him later

aaron is that kid in biology who’s got an A+ throughout the whole class and it annoys the shit out of everyone because that shouldn’t be possible

kevin is a jock. yes he is

he plays soccer and does cross country (can you do those both at the same time) (i’m not a sports person)

(let’s say yes for the sake of this)

he’s also one of those history nerd kids

you know who i’m talking about

nicky is a theater kid and he can actually sing really well

he just never stops

he knows he’s good at singing but it’s annoying walking out of math every day hearing a random song

seth and matt are both jocks and best friends (besides neil) but there are significant differences about them

yes they both were highlighters during middle school but that’s besides the point

seth is one of those kids who during gym is always like “dOnT bE a sOrE LoSeR” whenever your team loses but when his team loses he’s a pissbaby talking about how you cheated and just e w

he also has pot brownies in the middle of class

he probably asks you for answers for the homework too

matt just vibes and probably accidentally hits the volleyball too hard but everyone loves him anyway

he absolutely sucks at most classes and will absolutely be like “ohHHH thank youu :D” when you help him like literally the puppy eyes give you no choice but to help him

allison is the regina. fuckin george of school

but like if you guys end up sitting together during chemistry and you aren’t a complete dickhead to her she’ll probably give you candy or just whatever she has on her

renee is quiet girl whos actually got good grades and popular girl (allison) highkey has a crush on her

dan is like middle ground like shes a sports girl

but shell willingly hang out with both quiet kids and popular kids

overall really nice

OKAYOKAY NOW

neil ended up getting set up with one of the vixens marisa

(i think that was that girl who neil took to the banquet and was like "why do i need your number" to ?)

anyways he keeps trying to be like "no." over and over but she simply Wont Have It

and then next thing you know hes running for homecoming king and hes this close to breaking his own arm to get out of it

so now. he has to find an outfit

meanwhile Quiet Goth™ andrew minyard and his twin brother aaron have their dad who has a fashion business (mom died in a catastrophic car crash)

and everyone knows this so theyre always asking for like. help and discounts and shit

he says no to all of them

except neil whos in need of an outfit and

very very pretty

like uhh who gave you the r i g h t to have that awkward smile ???

and those t h i g h s ?

so andrews like "eh whatever sure"

yes yes yes yes

and. they end up getting kind of close ?

it kind of astounds everyone

aaron hates it he has calculus with neil and neil has the audacity to be so good at math and just so happens to be the only person andrew helps ?

seth is confused because andrews the only person he cant beat in a good one v one of exy

but also andrew buys a bunch of pot brownies from him and ???? he doesnt know why bc he doesnt even look high most of the time

he gives them to security guards as bribery so he can keep his knives on him during school

and now neils just friends w him ????

and its going well

"so you don't wanna be popular" "...yeah" "then dont"

neil retorts with:

"so your telling me your dad runs a fashion business and you wear all black"

they go back and forth for like half an hour

andrew starts trying to teach neil how to play videogames

neil fucking sucks but he doesnt really care because andrews nice

and actually helping neil pick out his outfit is a fucking pain because he so pretty picky

andrew dies

anyways

neil starts opening up about how he doesnt actually like marisa and andrews like "tell her"

"i hav she just doesnt. listen >:("

andrew offers to but neil knows about the frog knives (yes the frog knives) and hes like hah nice try

they still have nights on the roof and cigarettes and secrets shared

so everything happens and it finally gets to marisas head that neil doesnt wanna go to homecoming (with her. that is)

its like 4 days before homecoming and he jsut snaps

"yaknow i get it—"

she ends up crying but neil doesnt care at this point shes finally off his back

lets face it he would not care that man has zero morals

and so its homecoming night and neils this close to simply Not Going

but matt and seth are on the football team and they have their game and he spent hours looking for a suit

so he goes to the game and he hangs out with the upperclassmen

deliberately avoids the team because theres ways vixens nearby and he cant deal with marisa rn

so he hangs out

he sees aaron in the stands and asks if andrews around aaron just shrugs

useless

and the games over matts team wins yay !!!

everyones happy

now its time for the dance

neils dreading it

he goes and tries to avoid the general public because Ew People

and he sees andrew hiding from the noise in a hallway with no people

theyre quiet until neil follows andrew out to the back of the school and to the middle of the empty soccer field

"you werent at the game"

andrew shrugs "i didnt care about the game"

"and you care about the dance?"

"aaron doesnt have his own car"

"mhm"

andrew rolls his eyes

its quiet and neils just looking at andrew

he kinda had a realization the other night with matts help

andrew simply stares back

"yes or no"

"yes"

kith :)

the school doesnt notice they’re a thing until andrew shows up to school one day wearing what may or may not be one of those wrist. sweatband thingies

im dumb i forgot what theyre called

and neil always has one of andrews rings on him and hes always fidgeting with it

anyways i might write a fic who knows not me❤️

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the kings men #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #aftg au #andreil au #the foxes #tfc au #nicky hemmick #kevin day #seth gordon #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Bake-off - JJ (Outer Banks)

Request: can you write something with jj where the reader bakes a lot :) i understand if not, but i bake a lot (especially pies, i’m rambling sorry!) and thought this would be cute

A/N: So, since it’s JJ the baking had to include weed. 😛

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

The tray of banana nut muffins sat on John B’s table, half eaten. It was long before Big John died that there was ever even a homemade birthday cake in the house, neither men having much luck in the kitchen. But the muffins didn’t belong to John B anyway, they were JJ’s, which was even more peculiar, according to Kiara. If the Routledge men were shit at baking than the Maybank’s had never even turned on an oven.

“They’re a gift.” JJ shrugged, laying across the laz-e-boy on the porch and munching on one.

“A gift?” That was more shocking than their existence. JJ didn’t really get gifts and definitely not baked goods.

“Did you mow someone’s lawn?” Pope asked, reaching for the muffin only to have JJ Flop away from him at the last second.

“You could say that.” He grinned, attempting and failing a wink.

“Ew, JJ.” Kiara groaned and walked back into the living room, emerging a moment later with one, “oh my god they’re edibles.”

“What?” Pope asked.

“There’s weed in them.”

“Yes there is.” JJ grinned, “I ate two last night and was cooked. It’s some good shit.”

“Is it your shit?” Kiara asked, taking a bite.

“Obviously, I said it was good didn’t I? I got the best shit on the island Kie.” He replied.

“I know you didn’t make them so who made them for you?”

JJ was a purest, as he dramatically referred to it. He rolled his own joints, dried his own weed for vaping, and he didn’t do edibles. At least he didn’t until one of the guys in the kitchen at the hotel turned 21. A box of cookies sat on the counter in the kitchen, marked Andrew. Double chocolate-chocolate chip, according to Andrew, and packed with a enough weed to “have you cooked after half of it”.

“They’re delicious man, you gotta try one.” Andrew had insisted.

“I don’t do edibles.”

“You’ll regret it.”

And naturally, being told that there was the possibility for regret was a guaranteed way to ensure JJ did something. His bizarre fear of missing out dictated that he have no regrets and so he took one and ate the whole thing right there in the kitchen. And it was good...it was so good it didn’t even taste like weed and he was two seconds from telling Andrew he’d been dupped when he felt the familiar ease settle over him.

“Where’d you get these?” He asked, slipping three into a plastic bag and dropping them in his backpack.

“That girl that works in the kids area.” Andrew shrugged.

You were a glorified babysitter, in charge of occupying people’s toddlers while they went out to play golf or shop or go to the spa. Not the greatest job in the world but the kids were usually easily contained and the parents always tipped well.

JJ knew you to see you, always wandering around with some kid or another attached to your hip, talking about Frozen or Descendants...he’d heard you duet a song from some Disney Channel movie with one of the little girls just last week. It made you seem a bit green honestly. He couldn’t imagine you doing anything less than innocent, especially making your own edibles.

He waited until after his shift to look for you, still wearing his white button up and vest but with his cargo shorts back on. You were outside supervising and participating in a game of soccer with a handful of eight year olds.

“Hey,” he called, waving to you as he walked up. You tossed the soccer ball back into the makeshift field and turned toward JJ, “Andrew said you made him those cookies, for his birthday.”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, “I know he doesn’t like to smoke so...”

“Could you make me some?”

“Sure, what flavor?” You turned away for a moment to make sure all five of your children were still actively playing soccer and JJ took the opportunity to check you out. Your t-shirt advertised the hotel and hung loose on you. Shorts and a pair of running shoes completed the look and he was appreciative for the view of your legs.

“Chocolate peanut butter.” JJ decided.

Chocolate peanut butter cookies, snickerdoodles, brownies, blondies, coffee cake, you and JJ had slowly formed a friendship built on experimental edible recipes. He supplied the weed and you made him whatever baked goods he could think up. He had even downloaded the Tasty app and Pinterest for the sake of finding new desserts for you to tackle.

“So this girl just makes you whatever you want?” Kiara asked the next time a container of cookies appeared at John B’s house. Sugar cookies, with piped on icing that made them look like beach balls.

“It’s business Kie. I supply the weed from my cousin, she makes the edibles. We sell them too, it’s a very lucrative business.” JJ replied, eyes closed, laying in the hammock outside John B’s while he smoked.

Kiara was munching on a sugar cookie. She wasn’t really complaining about the edibles, her mom had been on her lately about the possibility of her smoking and the edibles were easier to hide. Especially because yours didn’t smell half as bad as some she’d had in the past. Mostly she was just curious about this girl that JJ was spending time with. He acted like it was casual but Kiara had known him for a long time and she knew JJ lacked the ability to hang out with a girl casually. Even they toed the line sometimes.

“So when can we meet your esteemed business partner?” Kiara asked.

“What?” JJ rolled his head to the side to look over at her, pushing his sunglasses down his nose. “Why do you wanna meet her?”

“Why don’t you want us to meet her?” She countered.

“I don’t care. You can meet her.” JJ replied, trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing. He couldn’t fool Kiara and he knew that but that didn’t stop him from trying. He didn’t want you to meet his friends, mainly because he liked having you all to himself. It meant your attention wasn’t divided four ways.

“These are burnt on the bottom.” You commented, sitting on the kitchen island beside a cooling rack of peanut butter cookies. The peanut butter was JJ’s favorite though you usually didn’t make them because of allergies.

“They’re fine.” JJ replied, munching on a cookie while he scrolled through tiktok. You rolled your eyes at him and held one up, turning it over to inspect the nearly black bottom of the cookie. JJ had sworn that he would keep an eye on them while you left to talk to your mom on the phone but he’d let the buzzer go two minutes before he finally took it out.

“At least you’re the only one eating them.” You remarked, taking a bite of the one in your hands. You scrunched up your nose at the taste of burnt cookie, “the high better be worth it.”

JJ put his phone down, pushing off the counter so that he could come over and stand in front of you. You raised an eyebrow as JJ moved your knees apart so that he could stand between your legs. He opened his mouth, letting out an ‘ahh’ and you rolled your eyes at him as you placed the burnt peanut butter cookie in his mouth.

“It’s burnt.” You reiterated, watching him chew the cookie. You had discovered that JJ could pace himself far better with a blunt than he could a batch of cookies. He’d eat three in a row and get cooked, an unusual occurrence for him. You ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “Your hair is so greasy it literally stands up on its own.” You teased.

“I washed it!”

“The last time you went in the ocean does not count as a bath.” You replied. You continued to play with his hair as he leaned closer to you, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“You have off tomorrow?” JJ asked, still munching on his cookie.

“Yeah but my mom’s home all day.” You replied.

The experimental creating of edibles had led to a friendship and then a something in between. You weren’t quite ready to call JJ your boyfriend but you certainly weren’t entertaining the idea of anyone else. He spent all his time at your house when he wasn’t with his friends or working. Even when your mom was home and there was no baking, he hung around. At work he sought you out throughout the day, more than once crashing whatever activity you were doing with your kids.

“I was thinking you could come out on the boat with us.” JJ said. He was determined, now that he’d told Kiara he would, to introduce you to everyone. It certainly didn’t mean that he was planning on giving up his alone time with you but he’d concede to Kiara this time. “My friends wanna meet you.”

“Okay, I’d like that.” You replied, smiling at the implication that he was introducing you to his friends, “but I’m making them better cookies cause these are burnt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with them.”

“No but there’s something wrong with me for trusting you to watch the oven.” You said.

His eyes opened and he pouted at you. “I’m very responsible.”

“I know babe.”

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @ssprayberrythings @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @jolomez @timotaychalabae

#JJ (outer banks) x reader #JJ (outer banks) imagine #JJ (outer banks) fanfiction #JJ imagine #JJ x reader #JJ fanfic #JJ fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfic #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx Netflix imagine #obx fanfic #obx Netflix fanfiction #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks fanfic #outerbanks fanfiction #collecting stories imagine

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pipedreil · 4 years

Note

What’s ur fave non canon ship and what ur ur fave head canons for it?

that would be kandreil, the ship that almost was. i will never forgive nora for taking it away from us so while i plan my battle strategy, here are some headcanons that definitely got away from me and i spent way too long writing

after college, they all went pro, but andrew retired after two years and started writing for a living

best-selling thriller/mystery author andrew minyard??? fuck yeah!

you didn’t hear it from me but kevin is a great dancer

like you’re telling me he danced at edens throughout all of college and didn’t learn some nice moves?

their first christmas together, neil suggests throwing a christmas party for the foxes since he hasn’t seen most of them since he graduated

kevin is pretty easy to convince, but andrew takes a little more work

bc sure, they’d thrown small parties back at psu, but those were the dorms and andrew could leave whenever he wanted

but this? this is different. this is his house, his own space and if things get to be too much he wouldn’t have anywhere to retreat to

but of course neil understands this and with a promise that he’ll kick everyone out immediately if it becomes too much, andrew reluctantly agrees

renee buys them a set of pots and seed packets so that they can grow plants to place on the window sill above the kitchen sink

kevin is an absolute plant nerd and spends the rest of eternity fusing over their ever-growing plant collection like they’re his children

(they are his children, fuck you, neil)

matt and dan buy them a wii

it all goes downhill from there

to the surprise of absolutely no one, the three of them are competitive about literally anything they can turn into a competition

it starts with mario kart

andrew wins the most, kevin gets frustrated the most, and neil cheats the most

[playing rainbow road]

kevin: [runs neil off the road, knocking him from 2nd place and taking it for himself] haha loser

neil: [body chucks kevin halfway across the living, kevin’s remote slides under the couch] eat shit in last place asshole

andrew’s sitting on his phone bc he finished a lap ahead of the other two

then they branch out to wii sports

every single boxing match turns into an actual wwe fight in their living room

it’s usually kevin and neil fighting, but occasionally andrew will help one of them sabotage the other depending on his mood

(he usually goes against whoever it was that had dragged him out of bed that morning)

also pls imagine kandreil playing just dance. neil holds the high score for every single song they’ve played even tho kev is technically the better dancer between the three

after seeing it recommended online, kevin starts baking as a coping mechanism bc even though they’re all getting better, there are some things that will never stop haunting them

It starts one night on a whim when kevin wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, the crunch of his hand breaking under riko’s racket echoing in his mind

the clock on their bedside table tells him that it’s almost 4am and he knows that there’s no point in trying to go back to sleep so he carefully gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen

kevin’s aware of the slight tremors racking his body, the ache shooting through his left hand, and the constant itch of his tattoo, but he ignores them in favor of opening the kitchen cabinets

in the one closest to the fridge, he finds four boxes of easy bake cookies. he stares at them for ten seconds before saying fuck it and grabbing them

andrew and neil wake up three hours later to the smell of cookies filling their apartment and leave their room to find kevin standing in the middle of the kitchen with a “kiss the cook” apron (a gag gift from allison) on and flour on his face, aggressively mixing whatever is in the bowl he’s holding

neil spots the four (now empty) boxes of cookies plus three new ones sitting on the counter and raises an eyebrow, “why are you covered in flour? you don’t need flour to make easy bakes”

kevin replies without pausing his mixing, “i got bored after the third batch and decided to experiment”

turns out, kevin’s a natural at baking like he is most things, perfect bastard

his baking skills slowly grow from there and he starts finding ideas for new recipes lying around their whole apartment (a magazine on the coffee table that’s open to an article on cookies and cream cheesecake, a video on five different ways to make brownies that someone accidentally left open on their desktop computer)

(kevin knows it’s andrew bc of course it is, but neither of them ever mention it)

neil develops an obsession with tlc shows

If he’s watching tv, there’s 99% chance it’s 90 day fiance or my strange addiction. it’s now a saturday night tradition to sit on the couch together and talk shit about the people on the shows while eating junk food

when one of them (or all of them) can’t sleep, more often than not andrew will prop himself up in bed and read his current read out loud until they fall asleep

sometimes he’ll read them snippets from his new book he’s working on

(they’ll never tell him, but neil and kevin have compiled a collection of recordings of andrew reading for them to play when they’re away for games and his absence becomes too much)

when they sleep, kevin is in the middle bc he is Big and Warm and makes a very nice pillow for neil to put his head on and a heater that andrew can put his cold feet on

just. kandreil being domestic and in love

#i am so sorry this is an absolute nightmare #these suck #most of my headcanons i think of randomly and never write down so i've forgotten most of them </3 #ask #anon #kandreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #tumblr keeps deleting part of this post and i am anger #so sorry if the formatting is weird

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sanktprongs · 3 years

Text

Mist ~ Rubyjane

Looking through her window, she saw the clouds begin to form and cover up the sky. Sighing, she recovered the window with the curtain. She bit her lip, leaning against the wall. One of her least favorite things in the world was rain. It didn’t rain much in her city, but when it did, it made her sad. She couldn’t go anyway without an umbrella or some sort of protection. Her curls refused her the right to go out in the rain unprotected. She hated it when her curls became a frizzy mess.

“Jane! Did you see outside? It’s about to rain!” her roommate, Ruby Gillis, calls from the hallway. Jane looks up to Ruby standing in the hallway, her cheeks flushed. At that moment Jane had thought that Ruby had never looked more beautiful. Her blonde hair was as long as she was tall and pulled back into a ponytail. Growing up Ruby had loved anything pink and frilly and she had refused to let those loves go as she transformed into an adult. Her pink skirt reached the floor and her white long sleeve had ruffles at the end of them. Her face was bare except for a hint of mascara and a lot of blush, Ruby liked looking flush all the time. Jane loved that about her.

Well, Jane just loved her.

“I did,” Jane answers, staring down at her clothes, feeling rather plain all of a sudden. She had on brown pants with a white sweater. It was practical, like herself. Wow, clothes sure did say a lot about a person.

“Oh, Jane,” Ruby says, setting her bags down on the dining table and making her way over to her brunette best friend. She leans against the wall opposite and crosses her arms, staring at her. “What is it this time?”

“You know I don’t like the rain,” Jane says, rolling her eyes, which she regrets immediately. She never meant to make Ruby upset, but she did really hate the rain.

“Okay, well, we don’t have to spend our time watching the window,” Ruby smiles, taking one of Jane’s hands in hers and pulls her away from the wall.

“What should we do instead?” Jane asks innocently, raising her eyebrows.

Jane Andrews had been in love with Ruby Gillis since the two were sixteen and Jane had figured out what being a lesbian meant. She knew the feelings she held for her best friend were not platonic, but she also knew they were unrequited. Ruby had had her fair share of flings with boys she met in college or her co-workers. Jane was always pleasant around them, she knew she could never have Ruby so she wanted to make sure the boy that did was right for her. So far, none of them were.

Jane and Ruby had gone to college together, they had been roommates, and now they lived in their own apartment together. It was a cute, little apartment next to the city and they struggled to get by sometimes, but they managed. Neither of them wanted to take any money from their families, but both of their families were very gracious so they only accepted when they really needed it. Ruby worked as an interior designer and loved every second of it. She was always redoing random parts of their apartment with things she had gotten from work and Jane would always sit and watch her. She watched the way she struggled but refused help. She watched the way her tongue stuck out when she was thinking really hard. And she watched the way her eyes lit up when she had finally gotten something perfect. To Jane, anything Ruby did was perfect.

Jane worked as a counselor for the nearby high school. Growing up she hated hearing about other people’s problems and avoided deep conversations as much as possible. That all changed when she took a class in college about humans and their emotions. Most of the class was spent talking in groups about how certain things made you feel and why you thought that way. Jane loved hearing what people had to say and their explanations. She loved it even more when people didn’t have an answer and she could chime in and try to explain why an emotion was the way it was. She kept taking class after class about humans and emotions and ended up with a degree in psychology. Who would’ve thought that one class could change her whole life’s direction?

“We could…” Ruby hesitates, biting the inside of her cheek. Jane knew that she was struggling to come up with an answer by her motions. Ruby knew that Jane was very good at reading people so she made her promise not to comment on anything Ruby was doing or feeling unless specifically asked. Jane followed the rules most of the time.

“Bake?” Jane finishes the sentence, throwing out a suggestion. She was not a great baker, and neither was Ruby, but the two really enjoyed baking together. They would never end up with a perfect creation, but it tasted good at least.

“Read my mind,” Ruby grins, pulling Jane into the tiny kitchen of theirs. Right now the kitchen was different shades of purple, one of Jane’s favorite colors. Months ago Ruby got some purple wallpaper and Jane jokingly suggested that she put it in the kitchen and redecorate it. Well, needless to say, Ruby did not think that it was a joke. Now they have a purple kitchen.

“What should we make today?”

“Brownies? Last time we made them we almost burnt the house down,” Ruby giggles, pulling a box of the brownie mix down. A smile appears on Jane’s face as she nods her head.

“Redemption time,” Jane says, grinning from ear to ear. Ruby hands her apron to her and Jane accepts it. “Can you tie it around my waist? My hands are busy.”

“Anything you say,” Ruby smiles, walking behind Jane. She leans her chin on Jane’s shoulder as she grabs the two pieces of fabric. She quickly ties them together but lets her chin linger for a tad bit longer. She wraps her arms around Jane’s waist and Jane can feel her face heating up. Thank goodness Ruby couldn’t see the look on her face.

“Alright, grab me the eggs,” Jane says, moving slightly so that Ruby’s hands fall off of her.

“Coming up lovebug,” Ruby giggles, her hair swishing back and forth as she walks over to the kitchen. Jane can feel her heart beating faster and faster by the second. How she wished she could turn around and kiss the girl she loved. Yet, the girl she loved wasn’t aware of the fact that Jane liked girls. She could never get the words out, believe her, she tried.

Ruby goes to hand her the eggs and their hands touch for a moment. Jane feels how soft her hands are and she smiles to herself before pulling away with the eggs in her hands. She grabs the mixing bowl and slowly starts to incorporate all the ingredients together. She notices Ruby isn’t doing much work and she turns to ask for help, but then she sees her.

Ruby is staring out the window, her chin resting on her hands. Her back is completely turned towards Jane, but she can tell that Ruby is smiling. Jane looks out of the window to see that it’s misting outside. Jane sets down her spoon and walks over to Ruby, placing her hands around her waist (which took a lot of courage).

“You want to go play out there, don’t you?” Jane asks, resting her chin on her shoulder like Ruby had done minutes before.

“I told you not to psychoanalyze me anymore,” Ruby mumbles, leaning her head against Jane’s. “But yes.”

It took everything out of Jane to not move. The mention of going out in the crying sky made her feel sick, but the way Ruby talked caused all gross emotions go away. Ruby and Jane locked eyes and Jane smiles, which is her way of saying yes.

Ruby’s entire face lit up and she kisses Jane’s cheek before quickly pulling away and disappearing into her bedroom to grab a raincoat.

Jane stands in the kitchen, all alone with her thoughts. Ruby just kissed her. Okay, she didn’t kiss her, but she kissed her cheek. She had just felt Ruby’s soft lips press against her skin, if only for a short amount of time. Jane places a hand to her cheek, closing her eyes to relive the short moment.

“Jane! Come on!”

Jane opens her eyes and sees Ruby standing by the door, her hand on the knob. She opens the door and rushes outside, leaving Jane to catch up with her. She does, but she forgot her raincoat so she stands outside, the small droplets continuously hitting her body.

She watches Ruby dance around, noticing that her raincoat was not on her body. She glances to the railing and sees that she had left it there. She probably wanted to feel the rain on her skin.

“Jane! Miss sensible Jane, please come out and dance with me!” Ruby begs, extending her hands. Jane shakes her head, but then Ruby puffs out her bottom lip. The poor puppy look won Jane over and she gingerly walks out to the misting rain and grabs Ruby’s hands.

Ruby leads the two of them, gently grabbing Jane’s waist and twirling them in circles. As they waltz around their yard, the rain starts to become harder and splash bigger droplets onto them. Jane didn’t care though, she was dancing with the woman she loved, nothing could beat this.

But then, something did.

All of a sudden, Ruby stops dancing and stares at Jane. Jane stares at her back, not knowing what else to do.

“I love you,” Ruby says quietly, bringing her attention to her shoes that were very damp.

“Rubes, I love you too,” Jane says back, tilting her head to the side. Why on earth would Ruby say that right now? That was a very random thing to-

Jane’s thoughts are interrupted by Ruby placing her lips onto Jane’s. Jane doesn’t think as she leans into the kiss, her hands cupping Ruby’s face.

Maybe she did love the rain.

#i havent written a one shot in a long time #rubyjane #anne with an e #awae #anne shirley #gilbert blythe #dianabarry #jane andrews #ruby gillis #jane andrews x ruby gillis #wlw #bisexual #i love them so much

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star-going-supernova · 4 years

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Sometimes, I just need to ask you crazy questions. So, after reading "Runaway" this came to me: what if Maddie, sometime after her parents divorced and she went with Emma, didn't want to be with her mom but with her dad instead? And that kind of made Mark not hate Godzilla anymore after learning what Maddie thinks about the King after San Francisco? How much things would've changed because of that in the KoTM events? - EternaLight

Haha, I don’t mind crazy questions, friend, so don’t be afraid to ask! I, uh, might have gone a little overboard with my answer though, whoops.

We’ll say for the sake of things that Maddie stays with Ilene at Castle Bravo for a little while so her parents can figure things out without her getting caught in the crossfire (or entirely forgotten). Maybe Ilene chewing them out is enough of a wake-up call that Mark starts to get a better, more steady handle on his life earlier. I have a lot of different opinions on his character and the ways I portray him, but we’ll say that here, he makes a sincere effort to let go of his resentment. His daughter, who really enjoyed both her stay at Castle Bravo and all the Godzilla talk, deserves that much.

Maddie goes with Emma but Mark insists on being a more, well, present presence in her life. In the movie, it sounds like they haven’t seen each other for quite some time, and Maddie tries to hide that she was emailing him, but whether he didn’t reach out until then or Emma tried to limit contact, I’m not sure. Regardless, here Mark makes sure Maddie doesn’t have the chance to feel ignored again. Maybe he makes it so she can stay with him for a week every month or something at least.

Either way, I’m gonna say that Maddie spent her ninth birthday with her dad and that’s when she asks if maybe she live with him instead. She’s a little tired of the moving around, of the not knowing where she or Emma will be next week, of the strangers and interns who have to watch over her.

Mostly, she’s tired of playing second fiddle to the ORCA, and she tells him that.

The ORCA? Mark thinks. Contact with the Castle Bravo has been sporadic and never very work-oriented, so he hasn’t heard about Emma’s project before.

And Mark—who has tried to be more open-minded from the beginning, who listened to his daughter’s thoughts on the Titans, and who has several crayon drawings of Godzilla currently hanging on his refrigerator—does two things.

First is have the custody agreement altered so Maddie spends most of her time with him, visiting Emma when she’s not too busy (which isn’t often). The second is to share his concerns with his old Monarch friends.

“The ORCA is dangerous,” he says, but this time, he adds, “not to humans, but to the Titans.” One device, one person, shouldn’t have that sort of control. What if it falls into the wrong hands and the Titans are made to do terrible things? He imagines how upset Maddie would be if Godzilla was forced to obey some puppeteer.

People pay attention, especially since he tells those who know how much Maddie likes Godzilla. Things change, are noticed, and maybe it’s not enough to completely prevent the events of KotM from starting, but it is enough.

Emma isn’t assumed to be a traitor, because Mothra’s hatching plays out mostly the same, just minus Maddie. Monarch is ready to intercept Jonah’s crew at Antarctica, preventing them from releasing Monster Zero. They’re all brought back to the States, and Mark and Maddie are there because of course Maddie wants to see for herself that her mom’s all right.

But since they don’t know she’s working with the terrorists, Emma escapes with the ORCA and manages to set Rodan free, simply skipping to the next phase of their original plan. It’s not nearly as much of a disaster as KotM. Isla de Mara is still destroyed, and a lot of good people in Monarch are killed. When Godzilla shows up, he knocks Rodan around a bit, not trying to kill him as he would have Ghidorah, and Rodan backs off. The Oxygen Destroyer is never launched.

When Mothra emerges from her cocoon, she heads off to beat Rodan up herself. Emma manages to evade capture, and in the mess of the aftermath, finds Maddie and takes her. She uses her daughter a little bit as a hostage, but her main motivation for snatching her is because she wants Maddie to be safe while the Titans rampage. Maddie tries to talk some sense into her, but Emma’s too deep now. Emma says she’s doing this so Andrew’s death wasn’t meaningless, and Maddie demands to know what all the newly childless mothers out there would think about her reasoning.

They stop for a minute so Emma can figure out the best route to take to avoid being caught. Maddie can’t get out of the handcuffs, but she does manage to escape the car. The road they’re on is at the top of a cliff overlooking the ocean on one side with nothing but trees and grass on the other. There’s no one else around for miles, but if the most she can do is delay her mom and give Monarch time, then she will. Maddie runs down the road back the way they’d come, listening to Emma shout as she scrambles to follow.

Maddie makes it a decent distance, considering her hands are cuffed behind her back, when the calls of her name suddenly stop and a shadow falls over her.

Towering up over the cliff is Godzilla, one hand very deliberately placed on the concrete between Maddie and her mom.

(Turns out, a Titan is prone to remembering the one kid who has ever tried to give them brownies. Who knew?)

Monarch arrives soon after, having been tracking Godzilla. With Rodan sufficiently cowed, Jonah and his people locked up, and Emma and the ORCA recovered, further disaster has been averted. Mark and Maddie go on to a lot more time at Castle Bravo now, which was quickly expanded to include space for Mothra to land on.

And if Maddie was determined to give Godzilla brownies before, back when she was seven, then she’s twice as determined now. Even better, Mark is eager to help.

#i answered a thing #EternaLight #Madison Russell #Mark Russell #Godzilla #hc/au rambles #If You Give a Titan a Brownie AU #life and times of star

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sukstuds06-blog · 4 years

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Approached our menacing rental car

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jemej3m · 5 years

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What Now? (p2)

andrew and neil get protective over their respective kids: kevin is a history nerd. robin is an exy junkie. we meet allison, nicky and renee. (also yes, ms danielle wilds and headmaster matthew boyd are trying their best to remain professional at work but they be havin a BANGIN good time together ya know)

“...And I’m sorry for cutting your hair with craft scissors, and I’m sorry for drawing on you ini permanent marker when we were meant to be napping, and I’m sorry for saying your stupid history books are stupid, and I’m sorry for putting grapes into the bottom of your bag, and I’m sorry for telling Thea that you have cooties so that she wouldn’t kiss you, and I’m sorry for scribbling on your things, and calling you bad names, and pushing you.”

Neil Josten sighed. His daughter still sounded rather petulant, which meant none of this had truly gotten through. They’d written this speech at the dinner table last night, and he’d been almost impressed at the antics she’d described to him.

Matthew Boyd looked pleased, sitting back in his chair. “Okay? Are we all happy?”

Andrew Minyard - all it’d taken was a quick search for articles to flood Neil’s feed - said nothing, watching Neil from under his eyelashes. Neil had no clue what he wanted from him, and had stubbornly avoided looking in his direction as both kids read their apologies. Kevin was brooding, looking out the window. Robin’s hand was tugging on Neil’s sleeve.

“Thank you for your time, Neil, Andrew.” Boyd stood. “I hope both of you will continue to remind both Kevin and Robin how important civility is.”

Neil was sure that all four of them grimaced at the idea of civility. If Andrew was going to use Neil’s past to degrade his worth as a parent, he’d have to try a little harder than that. Besides: He was being hypocritical. Neil had never been arrested, let alone sent to court and convicted - Andrew had. Twice.

Shuffling Robin out, they stood next to one another on the pavement, Robin holding his hand. The whole ordeal was over now. Time to forget Andrew Minyard and his arrogant son.

"Off to class?” He tipped Robin’s chin up carefully.

She nodded, but tears were welling in the corners of her eyes and threatening to spill. Neil knelt down immediately.

“Robin, what’s wrong.” He took her cheeks in his hands.

“I didn’t really mean to push Kevin.” She blubbered. “Is that why you’re going away tonight?”

“Oh, sweetheart, no.” He drew her in, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

Tonight, Robin would stay with Allison Reynolds. She was the parent of Laila and Jeremy, who’s daughter had long moved on from Exy, but who’s son remained on Neil’s A-Grade team. They were close friends. Robin had grown to adore Laila, doting on her like a little sister, taking time to teach Robin to bake, play backyard Exy, or even help with homework. She stayed with them when Neil had to travel out of state with his team.

“I don’t want to.” She sniffled. “Why don’t you take me with you, like you normally do?”

“Because they’ve skewed the scheduling, Robin. I don’t want you to miss school.” He brushed a kiss on her forehead whilst she was being unresistant, revelling in the affections that Robin had grown comfortable with. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, I promise. Allison has your things, and your nightlight: The guest bedroom always has its locks. Laila will keep you safe, okay? Maybe she’ll bake you those brownies that you love.”

She perked up slightly, nodding and taking off: Her glittery backpack bounced on her back. “Bye Dad!” She called over her shoulder, waving. Neil closed his eyes as his chest squeezed.

It always pained him to see Robin go.

With shaky hands, he drew out his pack of cigarettes and shook out the lighter. His fingers were trembling, making it difficult to spark one. Frustratedly, he threw the lighter into the bin on his left and rubbed his eyes, letting out the breath he’d been holding.

“Want a light?”

Slowly, he peeled his eyes open.

Andrew Minyard was stood to his right, offering a sparked lighter.

Andrew watched Neil Josten light his cigarette and take a slow drag, hollowing his scarred cheeks. His eyes were the same spectacular blue of the sky, his hair almost the colour of blood. Fitting, for the Butcher’s boy. It would be shocking, if Andrew wasn’t incapable of being shocked, that Neil would be here. It was always strange to see people you heard of in the news when you were younger.

What a quiet life he’s arranged for himself, here.

Andrew could say the same. Only moments ago had he carted Kevin off to class, books under his arm and a sullen set to his frown. His son was a miserable nerd. It was hilarious.

“I know about you.” Neil offered. “I don’t want your son near my daughter.”

“And I know about you.” Andrew rebutted. He couldn’t deny he didn’t appreciate the honesty. Most parents at this school were conniving fuckwits. “I don’t want your daughter near my son.”

“Good.” Neil huffed. “That’s settled, then.”

Andrew wasn’t finished. “What do you do?”

Neil rose a single eyebrow, keeping his gaze on the stagnant carpark in front of them. Storm clouds gathered on the horizon: Andrew hated the humid, electric storms of South Carolina’s summers. “I coach the junior state Exy teams. You?”

“Criminal prosecutor.”

At least Neil had the audacity to laugh. Andrew hid the twitch at the corner of his mouth behind his hand, watching as Neil dropped his cigarette to the ground, stamping it out with his heel. He looked at Andrew one last time, and really, fuck him for looking like that. “Keep your son away from my daughter, Minyard, and we won’t have any problems.”

“Shove your attitude up your ass, and then we’ll have no problems.” Andrew left with his mocking salute, walking towards his car. He was sure Neil continued glared at him until he’d driven well out of his range of vision.

It was a big enough school that he’d most likely never run into Neil Josten and his pretty eyes again.

That was fine by Andrew - but oh, boy. He’d been very wrong.

Neil was extremely uncomfortable. A big banner across the auditorium read Bring Your Parent To School Day with dozens of exclamation marks: Around him were a chaotic cohort of children and parents, gathered into small groups and chattering excitedly. Robin had disappeared five minutes ago, and he was anxiously looking for her to return. Allison was supposed to be here, but she was nowhere to be seen, and Andrew Minyard was across the room.

Socialising wasn’t his thing: Everyone here was discussing their jobs, college, high school, reminiscing, all that shit. Neil had spent his elementary years home schooled, his high-school years running, his college years in perpetual fear and his occupation fighting the prejudice established against him.

This place was a rumour gold-mine.

“Neil! Neil!” Robin barrelled into him. “Look! These are my friends, Abby and Bee!”

One was blonde and pink-cheeked, who looked very shy. The other was grinning madly, her chubbiness endearing. Their mother rushed after them, skidding to a stop before she could barrel into Neil head-first. They all wore matching silver necklaces, crosses hanging daintily at their necks. The mother’s silver hair, however, was streaked through with many colours. It was confusing.

“I’m Renee,” She said apologetically. “You must be Neil.”

Neil shook her hand uneasily. “I’m sorry that Robin dragged your kids off.”

She waved off his concern.

“Abby is my cousin.” Bee explained to Neil. “But she lives with me now. And Robin told me that she hasn’t always lived with you. Is that why she doesn’t call you Dad?”

“Or he’s gay,” Abby chided. “And it would be confusing to call both her dads Dad.”

Neil flushed, but the girls were all giggling. Renee mouthed an apology, hiding her face behind her hands. Neil shook his head.

“Don’t worry. I get these questions all the time.”

“Which questions?” Allison’s familiar, chiding tone could be heard over the din easily. She appeared by his side, Laila and Jeremy in tow. Neil watched fondly as Robin hugged Laila hesitantly, and introduced her Exy friends to her classmates.

“That I’m gay.” Neil provided. “Allison, this is Renee. Renee, this is Allison. Don’t mind her being a bitch: She can’t help it.”

“The children.” Allison hissed. Renee waved it off.

“They’re not listening.” Momentarily, they watched their kids bonding together. “My daughter and niece were just being very invasive. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, Neil.”

“Oh,” Allison snorted. “He gets asked if he’s gay all the time. It’s not your kids’ fault. He’s just an absolute twink.”

Neil shoved her lightly and she elbowed him back.

Renee was about to ask her a question, but was promptly hooked by a middle aged man and his judgemental glares towards both Neil and Allison. She threw an apologetic glance over her shoulder towards them and the kids as she dragged her daughters off.

“It’s not like you to introduce yourself to strangers.” Neil hedged. “What about your whole all parents are beneath me attitude?”

She examined her nails. “Can’t blame me for knowing when someone’s hot and eyeing me up. Not your fault you can’t read signals.”

“She was what?” Neil shook his head. “Whatever. I want to get out of here. Can’t we just take them all to a diner?”

Allison clucked her tongue, looking at where Renee was being introduced into a new circle. “Not tonight, blue-eyed boy. Go get some kids into that program of yours. Be productive. Find a single parent to complain with. Or flirt with.”

“You are a single parent to complain with.” He grunted, crossing his arms. “Alright. Fuck off with you, then.”

She grinned and pinched his cheek, before sauntering off.

God, Neil hated school functions.

“Neil, it’s loud in here.” Robin tugged on his sleeve. “Can we go outside for a bit?”

“Do you want to go home?” He hedged.

She paused; then shrugged. “I want to play with Abby and Bee. But I’m not sure.”

“Let’s make that decision outside.” He conceded, and guided her outside. His anxiety was making him itch for a cigarette, but he never smoked around Robin. Instead, he crouched down next to her, letting her put her hands on his shoulders and hoisting her up onto his back. He grinned over his shoulder at his daughter. “Comfy?”

She nodded into her shirt. They walked around the edge of the building, away from the entrance and the cacophony of noise. Cars were crammed into every parking space. Across the way was the administrative building, where Neil had last spoke to Andrew Minyard. Neil’d seen him only briefly tonight. Had he already left?

Why do you care?

They both leaned on the brick wall of the auditorium’s exterior, Neil crouching to Robin’s eye-level.

“Dad,” She said hesitantly. “Why are everyone’s families older?”

Neil brushed an eyelash off her cheek. “It’s their choice when they have children, Robin. I was lucky to get you when I did.”

“But I don’t have a mom.”

“She’s out there, somewhere. We’ve talked about this, Robin.” Neil tapped her nose. “Did you want to find her?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No. I don’t want to leave you.”

Neil’s heartstrings were being yanked in all different directions. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She blew a raspberry at him. “Can we go home?”

“Fine, you rascal.” Relief released the tension that had curled his shoulders all evening. He took her hand. “Let’s go.”

He threw himself into the car with enthusiasm, after strapping her into the backseat, and put the keys into the ignition.

And then: Of course. The car wouldn’t start.

“What’s wrong with the car, Neil?”

He was so tempted to whack his head against the horn of the stupid steering wheel. Instead, he gave Robin a reassuring glance and swung himself out of the car.

It was probably just his battery: He’d get Allison to jumpstart his car and then they’d be sweet. Or she could just give them a lift home.

Cranking open the hood, he checked that nothing was about to explode, before calling out to Robin: “Can you try turning the radio on?”

She scrambled into the front. He could see her little flushed cheeks shaking her head after she’d fumbled for a minute or so. He drew in a deep breath and reached for his phone.

“That’s a shitshow of a car.”

Neil’s eye twitched. He turned around. “Not all of us are lawyers.”

“And yet, you could have been a professional Exy player.” Andrew - who else would it be, honestly - pointed out. “Seems slightly more lucrative than this.”

Neil seethed. “What do you want?” He could see Kevin, standing a little ways back with his arms crossed. Sullen brat.

“To offer my jump cables?” Andrew rose his eyebrows. “Unless you want to walk home in the dark.”

“And you care, because?”

“Because I’m such a caring, affectionate person, Josten.”

Neil snorted. Right. “I have my own cables, thanks.”

“Always prepared, runaway.” Andrew rose his chin. “You’d still need a battery.”

Neil ground his teeth. Whatever angle that Andrew was attempting, Neil just couldn’t figure it out. “Fine. Fine. God, I’m going to hate owing you. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Neil, what’s happening?” Robin called.

He leaned over the opened front door. “You’re going to have to wait a little out here, okay? Kevin’s father’s helping us start the car.”

She thought about it for a moment: Neil expected a fight, not wanting to be around Kevin, not wanting to stand outside in the cold and the dark. Instead, she merely said “Okay!” and shuffled out of the car feet-first. Neil watched as Kevin didn’t move from where he stood, even as she approached.

Odd.

Andrew swerved his car up as Neil unloaded his cables - its sleek exterior and leather lining screaming pretentiousness. Neil sat behind the wheel after they’d connected their engines.

“Feel free to electrocute yourself any time.” Neil offered, before starting the car. It revved to life with a rather guttural screech of protest.

“Missed opportunity.” Andrew agreed. “Then I wouldn’t have to stand the sight of you any longer.”

“You offered to help.”

“Technicalities.” Andrew leaned his elbows onto the rolled-down window sill of . Neil’s car. “You owe me, Josten.”

“Thanks.” He gestured to his engine. “For that.”

Andrew cleared his throat. “Don’t make a habit out of it.”

Neil almost smiled, rubbing the twitch at the corners of his lips away with his hand. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Bye, Kevin.” Robin waved to Andrew’s son as they drove away.

“What’s that about?” Neil eyed her in the rear-view mirror.

His daughter wriggled suspiciously, cheeks pinked. “Nothing.”

Neil huffed. Surely a daughter of his would be better at lying than that.

i have no idea how i want to get them together in this

#single parent au #andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #child!kevin #child!robin #dad!andrew #dad!neil #the foxhole court #part 2 #jem writes

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stellamai · 6 years

Text

A sense of community

Something crunches and slides under his foot as Neil steps into the apartment on Sunday evening and he has to grasp wildly for the door handle to prevent himself smacking his head on the hardwood flooring. All the lights are off, meaning that Andrew isn't home yet and the cats probably haven't been fed.

Sure enough, King appears a second later, trotting around the corner and making a beeline for Neil's legs, winding around them as if to trip him up a second time. He shuts the door and crouches down, stroking her absently as he peers at the offending slippery object. It's a flyer of some kind, probably pushed under the door by one of their neighbours, advertising a street fair.

Neil skims the information as he wanders into the kitchen to refill the cats' food. There's a form on the back of the flyer for people who want to apply for a stall, and an option to contribute some baked goods to a community stall which will raise money for 'the most innovative neighbourhood scheme' pitched at the fair.

Neil hears the door click as Andrew arrives home, and rushes to show him the flyer.

"A street fair," says Andrew, sounding wholly unimpressed.

"You could bake something," says Neil, gesturing out to the balcony where Andrew has been growing various fruits and vegetables in large pots. "The raspberries are ripening up; you could make pies."

"Is this about your stupid Exy club idea?" asks Andrew, scanning the information on the sheet. "How far would the proceeds from a measly stall at a street fair go towards that?"

"Well, no," replies Neil. "I just think it would be nice for you to share your baking skills with everybody."

"You sound like Renee."

"But," continues Neil, unperturbed, "that plot of land at the end of the road just went on sale, where Mr Jones used to keep those tiny goats -"

"Pygmy goats."

"Right. And I just think it would be nice to have something better than that run down park to keep the local kids occupied."

"There's already an Exy club at the local school, and it’s open to anyone under the age of eighteen,” says Andrew. "I asked Mrs Parkinson about it."

Neil sighs, expression falling into one of dejection. "Oh."

Andrew stares out at the balcony, regarding his improvised vegetable patch with a bored stare. "But okay, I'll bake something. I want to see what everyone else has to offer."

Neil smiles, knowing Andrew's thinking of all the cakes, brownies and pastries that will be available. "Joan's Chelsea buns can't hold a candle to your Battenberg cake."

Andrew rolls his eyes and steps closer. "The Battenberg was a one-off. Nicky wanted the same cake for his wedding as Prince Louis had."

"Nicky has an unhealthy obsession with German princes," chuckles Neil, altering his accent slightly as he leans close to Andrew. "Nevertheless, Joan's European baked goods are mere imitations compared to yours."

Andrew shivers slightly, as he can’t help but do on the rare occasion Neil puts on his mother's English accent, and pulls Neil in for a kiss.

"By the way," murmurs Neil. "Welcome home."

By the day of the street fair, Neil has told practically everyone in their building about Andrew's baking efforts. He couldn't help it; every time someone mentioned the street fair he had to tell them to visit the community stall to try his husband's pies. Andrew used to say that Neil could only think about Exy, and maybe that was true until he suddenly had a life outside of it. Now that he has a whole future to contend with, he knows there's so much more to be proud of than winning an Exy game.

There’s a steady stream of people visiting the community stall all morning, buying goods and submitting ideas for the neighbourhood initiative the funds from the stall will go towards. Neil sees Andrew slip his own application into the pile, and smiles widely enough that Andrew pushes his face away in disgust.

Neil just laughs and flags down two young girls who have been eyeing the raspberry pies for about five minutes.

“Would you like to try one?” he asks. “This one’s a bit uneven so I’ll give it to you for free.” He stops and glances exaggeratedly towards Andrew before turning to whisper conspiratorially to the girls, “Don’t tell Andrew I said that. He’s very particular about quality control.”

The smaller of the two girls pauses at the sight of Andrew.

“Aren't you Andrew Minyard?" she asks, forehead creasing in confusion as she looks between him and Neil. "But aren't you two ... like ... enemies?"

The taller girl next to her whacks her arm lightly. "They're on the same teams, dummy."

The smaller girl scowls. "Yeah, but they're always shouting up and down the court at each other."

Her friend shrugs and crosses her arms. "So what? My mum and dad shout at each other a lot too, and they're not standing a hundred yards away from each other. It doesn't mean they're not in love."

Neil can tell Andrew's been getting bored with the conversation, but his head tilts slightly towards the girls at that last remark.

The smaller of the two gapes, then points between Andrew and Neil frantically, lowering her voice to an exaggerated and not-at-all-subtle whisper. "They're in love?!"

The other girl rolls her eyes. "Well, duh."

"I'll tell you a secret," says Neil, taking pity on the young girl. "When I'm shouting down the court at Andrew, it's not because I'm mad at him."

"Apart from that time when I didn’t pick up cat food before the game so we had to drive around searching for a 24-hour supermarket at midnight,” says Andrew, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

Now it's Neil's turn to roll his eyes. "Apart from then." He turns back to the girl. "Usually, we're just messing with our teammates by having conversations in Russian. It's like our own secret language on the court." Neil feels a soft smile spread unbidden across his face.

"See," mutters the taller girl, gesturing to Neil's smile. "I told you they were in love."

The other girl still looks sceptical, but takes the pie Neil offers her gladly.

Neil doesn’t miss the way Andrew watches carefully for her reaction when she takes a bite, and he turns away quickly before Andrew can notice his fond grin.

“Congratulations to our winner, Mr Minyard-Josten of Bellevue Terrace,” says Mrs Jones jovially, handing over an enormous novelty cheque displaying the sum of the proceeds of the community stall that will go towards his project. She’s already announced his winning idea to the assembled crowd, and Neil is proudly telling everyone how Andrew grew the raspberries for the pies himself.

“I tried to grow French beans last year and they shrivelled up within a week,” says a forlorn Madame Picard. “That’s very impressive, Andrew.”

Andrew is looking on passively while holding a giant stick of candy floss and acting as if he’s not paying attention, but Neil can tell by his eyes and the set of his mouth that he's pleased.

“A community allotment?” asks Neil later, a small grin tugging at the old scars on his cheekbones.

“Well, your Exy idea was stupid,” replies Andrew, as if it explains everything.

And suddenly, Neil gets it. Andrew took Neil’s failed idea and turned it into something else. Something positive for the community and for himself. Something he could be proud of, and that Neil could be proud of him for rather than dwelling on his own failures. It was a kind of metaphor for their lives, Neil mused, this thing that would start small and grow into something impactful and wonderful. And as he regards Andrew’s calm expression while he sets out ready-made designs on the dining room table, he wonders just how long Andrew has been planning this.

He wonders if Andrew had spoken to Bee about it - this new idea that he’d started to care about. Whether it scared him, excited him, whether he’d felt joy when the plan came to fruition.

“Was it worth it?” he asks softly, as he considers what may have lay under Andrew’s mask of detachment.

Andrew looks at him, processing and understanding the question, before nodding and pressing his palms more firmly - determinedly - onto the designs now spread out before them. Neil can see a thousand dreams behind his eyes and for a man who’s not used to dreaming, that must be a terrifying thing. “It will be.”

#i spent over a year finishing this whoops sorry #and the ending is rushed #andreil #aftg #tfc #all for the game #the foxhole court #neil josten #andrew minyard #tfc fanfic #aftg fanfic

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marvelousbirthdays · 5 years

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Happy Birthday bootleggerbea

February 27-I'd really like a Bucky/Darcy/OtherMC in which Darcy has a small child, and Bucky/Other (established) just. Want. That. Family. And, damnit, they're going to make it happen. Fluffy as hell, with cameo cheerleader Steve, please? No Rumlow or Rollins, but anyone else is fine especially someone not usually thought to be family-oriented, for @bootleggerbea

I chose the pairing Bucky/Darcy/Stephen Strange, since you mentioned going with someone usually less family-oriented. I hope that’s okay!

Written by @kathryn-claire-oconnor

Steve had not, technically speaking, been overly happy when Bucky had told him that he’d began an official relationship with Stephen Strange. According to the history books, Bucky had been quite the ladies’ man back in the day (true) with quite the string of lovers and flings to boot (totally false). Steve had thought Bucky’s interest in Stephen began and ended with sleeping with the sorcerer, until Bucky had told him differently. Talking him into coming ‘round had been a process, one for which Stephen hadn’t exactly had the patience.

“Let him be angry,” Stephen had suggested, more than once. “It doesn’t affect me, or our relationship, as long as we say it doesn’t.”

“No one else in this facility would care so little for the opinions of your best friend,” Steve had pointed out, more than once.

“Make them sit down and talk it out like the big boys that they’re supposed to be,” Darcy Lewis had suggested, stabbing her mixing spoon into the air to emphasize her point before she handed said spoon to her lucky little toddler, Andrew.

“Chocolate!” the three-year-old told Bucky very seriously, licking a strip of batter off the spoon. “Help everyone feel better.”

Bucky chuckled, making a face at the little boy so that he’d laugh before he thanked Darcy and left her apartment. He told himself that he’d only imagined glimpsing her checking out his ass as he headed for the elevator.

He’d taken her advice, and Andrew’s, making hot cocoa for the three of them before he rounded up Steve and Stephen and made them sit down with him and talk it out. Now, Steve was much more on board with Bucky and Stephen’s relationship, and when he caught a whiff of Bucky and Stephen’s mutual attraction to Darcy… he was almost embarrassingly on board with that.

Honestly, Bucky didn’t know what he’d do with his best friend, but some days he wanted to kill him. Even if he was the one who’d nudged Bucky into telling Stephen about his crush on Darcy. Because sometimes Steve just took things a little too far. Like convincing Stephen – not even Bucky, but Stephen Strange – to ask Darcy to accompany Stephen and Bucky on their monthly date night.

Not that either man precisely admitted that was what the night was. Not that they were purposefully hiding it, but they didn’t want to spook Darcy right out of the gate, either.

In the end when the night came, their plans – going to see the latest Disney movie with both Darcy and Andrew – didn’t matter anyway. Darcy called Bucky two hours before they were supposed to meet up, while he and Stephen were knee-deep in deciding what to wear to their date-that-probably-wasn’t-a-date. “I am so sorry, but Andrew just puked literally all over his bedroom, and now he’s having a super clingy semi-meltdown and I just—I can’t leave things like this, and I definitely can’t leave him with Laura and the Barton kiddos like I was planning. I’m afraid we’re going to have to reschedule the movie? If you two still want to go sometime?”

“Oh, we do,” Bucky promised her. “But not while Little Man’s feeling down. That’s no fun for anyone.”

“Thanks, Bucky,” Darcy said, and he could hear the relief in her voice, along with Andrew groaning and whining in the background.

He thought about asking her how Andrew was doing, how she was doing, or if she needed anything from him and Stephen. He’d been around enough single mothers, though, and knew how stubborn and determined Darcy could be, and he had a feeling he knew what her answers would be. Everyone was fine, or they would be fine; no need for anyone to worry. She had this under control all on her own.

Which he didn’t doubt, but he also knew that she’d sounded tired over the phone, and he knew that he wanted to help, and so would Stephen once he knew what was going on. So, he said a quick goodbye to Darcy, hung up, and explained the situation to Stephen.

Stephen stared at Bucky for a beat, trying to figure out if they were on the same page, then nodded sharply and stood to his feet. “I’ll get chicken soup from the place down the street, you get a couple movies, and I’ll meet you there?”

Bucky nodded – mission accepted – and turned to go into their entertainment room. He grinned when he realized that, in his haste to get to Darcy and Andrew, Stephen had opened a portal from their bedroom to the front of the diner.

“The Cars movies,” Stephen said suddenly, before moving to step through his portal. “If I’ve been paying close enough attention, Andrew seems to favor those.”

How adorable was his boyfriend, that he noticed? Bucky stepped back into their bedroom, grabbing Stephen by the front of the button-up he’d been planning on wearing to the movies and giving him a quick kiss. “I’ll see you at Darcy’s.”

Bucky beat Stephen to Darcy’s apartment even with Stephen’s portals, and knocked on the door with a handful of movies on one arm and his fluffiest blanket draped over the other. Too late, he realized he hadn’t taken the time to change back into less formal “normal” clothes before he’d hopped on the elevator and come over.

Stephen stepped gracefully out of a portal right behind Bucky as Darcy opened the door to her apartment. She looked torn between being stunned and being worried when she saw them both standing there.

Answering her unasked question, Stephen held up his bag of soup, saying, “We thought we’d bring movie night to the two of you?”

“If Andrew’s feeling up to it?” Bucky added, old instincts from babysitting sick best friends kicking in effortlessly.

Darcy must’ve read the worry on his face, because she smiled softly and nodded. “Sure. He’s just resting on the couch now. He was very disappointed about not being able to go tonight – and so was I, honestly – so thanks for this, guys. You’re winning lots of brownie points right now, I promise.”

“Brownie points?” Stephen asked before Bucky could turn and mouth that he should hush before he said something he shouldn’t. “Why would you think we want those?”

His play at being smooth was a total flop as Darcy raised her eyebrows at him from above very knowing blue eyes. “Because you both know my brownie-baking schedule, and someone,” she gestured to the movies in Bucky’s hand. “Knows my son’s favorite movies. Which means you’ve been paying attention. Which probably means you’re on the road to trying to make investment in our lives. Which I would just like to state for the record I am totally okay with.”

Bucky through the caution he and Stephen had been planning on into the proverbial wind as he asked, “Even if the ‘investment’ we’d like is more of a romantic-with-Darcy, paternal-with-Andrew sort of thing?”

Darcy grinned, stealing the blanket he’d brought and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as she assured them, “Oh, definitely. Now,” she fixed first him and then Stephen with a steady, still-amused look, asking, “Are there any further questions we need to get ironed out before Kiddo is within earshot?”

One side of Stephen’s mouth quirked up as he shouldered past Bucky and asked, “Do I get a kiss as well?”

Darcy let out a huff of laughter, and when she rose as far as she could on her tiptoes, Stephen still had to lean over a little for her to give him that kiss on the cheek. Which made the word “adorable” come to Bucky’s mind for the second time that night.

“Anything else?” Darcy asked the now-grinning men.

They shook their heads and followed Darcy into her apartment. As they walked, however, Bucky teased, “Do you think we could get those brownie points converted into actual brownies?”

Darcy didn’t have a chance to answer before Andrew sat up from where he was resting on the couch, cheering, “Bucky! Stephen!”

Stephen handed the takeout to Bucky, approaching Andrew with a casual smile. “Hello, Little Man. We heard you aren’t feeling well. We thought you might like it if we brought the movies to you instead.”

“Yeah!”

“Feel free to do whatever doctor-ing you feel in the mood for,” Darcy suggested, standing in the doorway and just watching the notoriously once-self-centered surgeon interact with the boy.

Watching Darcy’s eyes sparkle with a slowly-growing admiration as she watched Stephen and Andrew, Bucky decided that he would change his plans any day of the week if it meant he got to keep these three around. And, best of all, it appeared that they all felt the same way about him too.

#bucky/darcy/stephen strange #darcy lewis #Bucky Barnes #Stephen Strange #kid fic

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barryslightningrod · 6 years

Text

Blow out All the Candles

Happy thirtieth birthday to Candice and twenty-ninth birthday to Iris! Here’s my take on Iris’s fifteenth birthday.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Joe asks Barry for what seems like the hundredth time.

Barry bites down his exasperation though to grit his teeth and nod pleasantly: “Yes, Joe, I’m sure.”

He knows Joe only means well, but he also knows he wants to be the sole instigator behind Iris’s fifteenth birthday surprise.

Every year on their respective birthdays, Joe always treated them to dinner out, complete with a celebration with candles and cake back at home, and as much as Barry wants to continue this family tradition, he feels this is the year to take matters into his own hands and do something unique for Iris himself.

He had been saving up from his very first job as an assistant at the school library for this after all, this being two tickets on an evening ferry across the river to watch the fireworks display the city put on in the summer, commencing during the last weeks of June and lasting up until even after the Fourth of July. Then they’d take the Red Line to Petersburg to grab dinner and visit a new bakery that specialized exclusively in gourmet brownies, where Iris could pick from the biggest and best selection in town, double fudge, cream cheese, caramel, and everything in between, returning back home just in time before curfew to have cake with Joe.

“We’re celebrating with you after,” Barry affirms.

“You get a driver’s permit and a part-time job and think you’re too grown for me, huh?” Joe teases. “Should I point out that you’ve still never driven on a highway and seemed terrified at the prospect when I suggested we practice last week?”

“How do you switch lanes going that fast?!” Barry exclaims, shuddering at the potential disastrous outcomes his mind conjures.

“Ugh, I can’t wait to finally get my permit and go anywhere I want to!”

Iris hops down the stairs into the living room. Barry immediately sends a stern look Joe’s way signaling to drop all conversation regarding her birthday.

“Two more days till you can get that permit, Baby,” Joe reminds her. “Then two more years before you can go anywhere you want to.”

“One more year, Dad,” Iris corrects. “I’m getting my license when I turn sixteen.”

“A license doesn’t let you do anything. I do,” Joe humors her.

“Very funny,” Iris retorts. “Anyway, why does Barry think he’s grown?”

Barry senses his cheeks heat until Joe saves him with a quick cover: “Because he wants to make your cake this year and take it off my hands.”

Iris’s face falls slightly, but she hides it with a grin.

“That sounds great,” she manages before turning away.

Barry’s aware of the reason she faltered. She had been looking forward to her birthday after a rough start to June due to a rejection from an acclaimed writing intensive for high school students at the local university. The instructor encouraged her to reapply next year after her writing developed a greater sophistication, as she was one of the younger applicants. Barry tried to convince Iris that this didn’t indicate that anything was wrong with her, only that she needed more time to improve her skills, but this had done little to assuage Iris. It didn’t help that any summer jobs she was interested in required her to be older.

Unfortunately her anticipation for an exceptional fifteenth birthday was hampered after learning most of her close friends were going to be out-of-town on vacation with their families this month, and while Barry recognizes that Iris would still enjoy commemorating her birthday with him and Joe like always, he also understands why she wants to do something special and different. He had a feeling she wanted a birthday celebration out with friends this year especially.

Which was why he planned to surprise her in two days, and why she had to be kept under the impression that they were just going to meet up to have dinner with Joe downtown as usual.

“It’ll be delicious, Iris,” Barry insists, maintaining the facade, even though Joe was absolutely still going to bake her birthday cake.

“I know, I know,” Iris nods along, though she watches her dad climb the stairs, seemingly waiting until he’s out of sight to lean closer to Barry and whisper, “Do you think Andrew will wish me a happy birthday?”

Ah, Andrew, the one person Barry would rather actually have been out-of-town…

Andrew of course was Andrew Rossi, a prospective sophomore just like them that Iris met in her Algebra class last semester and formed a sudden crush on over the course of the last few weeks of school. At least, it seemed sudden to Barry. All he knew was that one moment Iris was telling him about the nice kid who sat next to her in math and the next she was blurting out that she liked him over solving quadratic equations during a late night finals cramming session at the dining table.

Barry clears his throat, determined to quell Iris’s worries, despite wishing desperately that she didn’t have feelings for someone else.

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t,” he reckons.

“That is, if he even remembers my birthday,” Iris frets. “For once, I wish I wasn’t born in the summer.”

“He’ll see it on Facebook,” Barry assures her.

“That’s true…” Iris allows, then perks up. “Speaking of Facebook, he Poked me the other day,” she giggles.

Barry forces a smile. “Did you Poke him back?”

“No!” Iris exclaims, before hesitating: “Should I? I wanted to play it cool, you know…ugh I should have Poked him back, right? What if he thinks I don’t like him-”

“Iris, relax,” Barry coaxes gently. “He’s not going to think you don’t like him. How could anyone think that? You’re the sweetest person in our grade. Anyone who knows you would agree.”

“You’re the sweetest person in our grade,” Iris praises. “Not even, in the whole school.”

Barry hopes his face hasn’t gone red, but if it has, Iris doesn’t seem to take heed, still fixated on Andrew.

“I’m sorry I always talk about him,” she sighs. “I’m sure it’s annoying.”

Barry shakes his head. “Don’t be. You’re my best friend, Iris. You’ll never annoy me.”

Iris grins slyly: “I’ll remember that when the dishes need to be washed after dinner tonight.”

Barry smirks back: “Just as long as you sweep the floor in exchange.”

She laughs and Barry’s heart soars until she deflates once more.

“I just hope I can enjoy my birthday,” Iris admits. “I need something to cheer me up.”

Barry gulps, but feels more pleased at his surprise plan and more excited than ever for its execution.

“You will,” he promises, squeezing her shoulder affectionately and eliciting a wry smile from her. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Here comes the Birthday Girl,” Joe gushes as Iris enters the kitchen sporting a spectacular bedhead and an oversized T-shirt so large it swallows her shorts and lends her the appearance of wearing none. Barry’s heart speeds up exponentially. He attempts to persuade himself it’s because he’s nervous about his plan for the evening.

“Who’ll always be my Baby Girl, no matter how old she gets,” Joe continues, oblivious to Barry’s internal turmoil.

Iris rolls her eyes, but still looks amused, standing on tiptoe to kiss her father’s cheek while he flips pancakes at the stove. Barry tries not to be too transfixed by the smooth skin of her legs.

“Good morning, Daddy,” she greets before turning to Barry working alongside Joe. “Bear, you’re going to burn the bacon!”

Barry snaps out of the daze he often slipped into when he was busy staring at Iris to realize that indeed, the bacon strips were on the verge of excessive crisping. He hurriedly switches the heat off under his skillet and straightens up, rubbing his palms against the seat of his pajama pants awkwardly.

“Happy birthday, Iris,” he smiles shyly. She beams back, and Barry feels a warmth that he desperately attributes to the hot kitchen.

“We’re finally the same age again,” Iris jests. “I hate when you’re older than me.”

“I’m still older,” Barry teases. “I’ll always have those three months on you.”

Iris brings her hands to his sides to tickle him, a move she always resorted to whenever he was right and she didn’t want to admit it.

“Settle down so we can eat,” Joe chuckles when their tickling battle escalates. “Are you two fifteen or five?”

The three of them seat themselves to enjoy breakfast together. Iris smirks across the table at Barry, never breaking eye contact even as she sips her orange juice, wiggling her brows at him over her glass. He sticks his tongue out in response, more pleased than he ought to be at her attention. He can’t suppress a smile as he helps himself to pancakes, anticipating that it was going to be a good day.

“So,” Joe starts from his place at the head of the table, meeting Barry’s gaze knowingly. “I have to make some rounds and then head to the precinct later. But I’ll be able to meet you guys downtown at six.”

“Sounds good,” Barry mumbles with a mouth full of food, feigning casualty. “We’ll catch the 5:20 train. Right, Iris?”

He glances over at her though to notice that she’s preoccupied with her cell phone ringing.

When she flips it open promptly, Barry’s heart sinks. There was only one person Iris would interrupt breakfast with him and Joe to tend to…

“Hello?” Iris inquires, her eyes wide, her posture stiff. Barry can feel the nervous energy surrounding her.

“Hi Andrew!” She pauses, listening to him speak on the other end of the line. “No, it’s not too early, don’t worry,” she giggles, then visibly brightens in a way that lets Barry know she got what she had hoped for.

“Thank you, you’re so sweet!” she enthuses. Barry stabs his fork into his pancakes bitterly, trying to remind himself that at least she had told him that he was the sweetest person in the school…

Iris pushes her chair back and stands, pressing the phone closer to her ear, leaving the kitchen.

“Today?” Barry hears her echo from the hallway, dread creeping over him.

“Didn’t I tell you kids no cell phones at the table?” Joe mutters to Barry disapprovingly as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “She’s lucky it’s her birthday…”

Barry ignores Joe, straining to eavesdrop on Iris’s conversation.

“I’d love to!” he discerns from her in a tone too eager for his liking. “Let me just ask my dad, okay? I’ll call you back.”

Iris emerges a minute later, looking happier than Barry had seen her all summer.

“Andrew and his family are driving up to the state park for the day and he asked if I want to come with them,” she announces. “Can I go?”

While Barry’s mouth goes dry, Joe tenses, and Barry can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“On your birthday, Baby?” Joe attempts nonchalantly.

The inquiry seems to frustrate Iris however, and she huffs exasperatedly.

“Yes, on my birthday,” she retorts. “The whole reason he’s asking me to come is because it’s my birthday.” She shakes her head as though this should be obvious.

“I’m just saying, didn’t he figure you’d already have plans?” Joe asks, continuing to persist for what Barry recognizes is his sake.

“That’s why he called and asked me if I was free,” Iris hisses. “Seriously, Dad, why are you being so weird? It’s not like we’re doing anything besides dinner-”

Barry’s pulse quakes so frantically that he wonders if they can somehow perceive it.

Joe tries again: “It’s a three-hour drive, Iris. You really want to spend your birthday on the road?”

“Obviously I do or else I wouldn’t be asking,” Iris quips, her anger rising now.

“You should go!” Barry blurts, no longer able to stand it. Somehow Joe knowing about his surprise for Iris and trying to cape for him made him feel worse.

Joe surveys him carefully before facing Iris again.

“When are you leaving?” he questions calmly, and Barry accepts his defeat.

“They’ll come by to pick me up in an hour and we’ll be back at around eleven,” Iris replies, bouncing on her heels in anticipation. “I’ll wear my seatbelt,” she adds lightheartedly, as if this will convince him to agree to the idea more readily.

Joe exhales pointedly. “Alright,” he concedes. “Whatever you want.”

“Thank you, Daddy!” Iris squeals excitedly, throwing herself atop him to hug him.

Joe squeezes her back. “You’re missing out on that red velvet cake you wanted,” he jokes.

Iris waves a careless hand and scoffs.

“This is gonna be the best birthday ever!” she bubbles, heading up the stairs to get ready. She’s three steps in when she pauses, turns around to Barry and mouths, “Thank you”, flashing him a smile before disappearing.

The ensuing silence that bathes him and Joe is too much for Barry to handle. He stands abruptly, moving to clear the table, needing to occupy himself else he might tear up.

Joe disrupts the awkward tension after a few minutes.

“Bear, are the tickets exchangeable?” he poses.

“I don’t know,” Barry lies, knowing full well that all tickets sales were final, not wanting Joe to pity him more.

“I’ll refund you, Son,” Joe reassures him, as if that was what Barry was upset about.

“It’s okay, Joe,” Barry insists, hoping his voice sounds steadier than he feels. “We can go another time.”

He’s glad his back is to him as he rinses the syrup and grease off each dish, even though he knows he’s watching him. Sure enough, he perceives Joe approaching moments later to simply clap him on the shoulder before exiting the kitchen to prepare for his day himself.

While Barry arranges the dirty plates onto the dishwasher rack, he tries to find solace in Iris’s delight. Ultimately, his goal was for her to enjoy her birthday doing something special and different, and it seemed like she was going to. In a way, she got what she wanted and so did he.

Except he wants to be the reason she enjoyed herself. He wants to be the source behind her best birthday ever. And he hates admitting it, but he wants her to want him the way she wants Andrew Rossi.

Barry loads the dishwasher with soap before adjusting the settings and starting it. He braces himself against the sink and sighs deeply, deciding to make his way upstairs as well to help Iris pack for her day trip.

There’s always next year, he reminds himself, and just that thought alone fills him with enough hope to cling to.

Author’s notes: Sorry for the sadness haha. I hope the younger folks know what “Poking” is lol. Also I truly hate my endings and I know I will change this.

#westallen #westallen fic #my writing #blow out all the candles

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nachtgraves · 6 years

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Andreil Week 2018 - Day 1

Ey. I’ve never participated in a fandom week type deal so I thought this might be fun. I’m not doing all the days, but gonna attempt to do every other instead :D

If you squint, I technically incorporated all three of today’s prompts in some form. As per usual, given a prompt, chances are I’ll stretch it to the point it probably doesn’t count anymore. I can’t read a map and following directions sans detours is hard.

Influenced by Nekojita’s Heartlines and you should read that if you haven’t already. Just read all her work, honestly.

Title: A Midsummer Night’s Fib // AO3 Word Count: 3,620 Warnings/Tags: G. Urban fantasy AU, bastardization of midsummer practices and festivals of past and present, an abnormal amount of glitter and sparkles Prompts: shakespeare | mythology | fake dating/fake exes

Neil doesn’t know why he did it but Nicky wasn’t going to quit and Allison had her phone out with that plotting gleam in her eyes and Dan and Matt were looking at him in certain ways and he just blurt it out: “I’m going with Andrew.”

They all fall silent, staring at him in various forms of shock, disbelief, and overwhelming confusion. Maybe he can make his escape while they process his words.

Nicky recovers before he can give the escape attempt more thought, however. “Andrew? You definitely mean an Andrew that isn’t my cousin, right?”

“Why are you going with the monster?” Allison demands.

“So much makes sense now,” Matt mutters and Neil would like to know what he means by that but, as if summoned, Andrew enters the room. He looks around at the various faces staring back at him before turning around and leaving without a word.

“Andrew, wait!” Nicky is the first to recover, chasing after his cousin before Andrew can get too far. “You’re going to Midsummer? With Neil?!”

Andrew stops in the middle of the doorway and turns back around. His face is blank but he meets Neil’s eyes for a brief moment before answering Nicky, bland and dry, “What I may or may not be doing is none of your business,” and then leaving.

Allison comes up to Neil, looks him up and down then directs her gaze to where Andrew had gone and sighing. “Why? I will never understand why you always go for the monster when there are way better options you could pick from. That woodland druid we ran into grabbing things for Abby a few days ago, for instance. He was so into you and not a psychopath.”

Neil just blinks at Allison. He thinks he knows what druid she’s talking about but that’s about it. Allison just sighs heavily again and shakes her head. “Whatever. I guess I should commend you for getting Andrew to come to Midsummer for the first time in forever.”

Neil frowns. “He’s never gone?”

Dan answers him. “Andrew’s not really big on the quarter day festivals, really any sort of festival, in case you hadn’t noticed. And he’s not Fae so he’d need to be taken as a guest, not that he’s ever accepted anyone’s offer for as long as he’s been here.”

Neil himself isn’t quite up to date on what Fae festival and celebration etiquette is. Between Baltimore and being on the run, Fae celebrations were never something he partook in. For most of his life, his mother’s Fae heritage was beaten down and he recoiled against his father’s warlock practices.

He doesn’t get a chance to think on his past for too long. Nicky, having lost Andrew, comes bounding towards Neil with a broad grin that has Neil worried.

“Since you’ve got yourself a date, that’s part one done,” he starts. Neil really doesn’t want to hear part two, or if there’s a part three and four to follow. But Nicky barrels on, his eyes doing that sparkly thing it does when he’s excited about Erik or shopping or matchmaking. “Now, we need clothes!”

Neil regrets everything.

Midsummer lands on a Saturday this year, and the festival starts midday Friday to the sunset on Saturday, just over 24 hours of celebrations. Basically, it’s just a drinking marathon with interspersed traditional events, as far as Neil knows.

Shopping ends up being a team activity. They split up into the various cars, Neil going with the twins, Nicky, and Kevin. Once at the mall, the group splits up, agreeing to meet up at the food court in a couple hours. Dan, Matt, Renee, and Allison go off, Allison knowing exactly where she wants to go. Aaron dips away to meet up with Katelyn, leaving Andrew, Neil, and Kevin to follow after Nicky.

They wind up in stores that Neil would only ever expect Renee to shop at, but he learns that Midsummer attire consists of light, airy, or floral. He can’t imagine Andrew dressing in anything on the racks around them.

Neil’s eyes flit to the man, picking blankly through some loose, long sleeved shirts, and worries his bottom lip. He hasn’t had the chance to speak with his apparent date, never able to catch Andrew alone. So far, it seems like Andrew is going to play along. At the very least, he hasn’t thrown Neil under the bus. But Neil doesn’t want to force Andrew into doing something he doesn’t want to, the guilt eats up at him.

Looking around, Nicky’s looking through jeans, a pile of clothes already over one arm, and Kevin’s on his phone texting. Neil makes his way over to Andrew, pretending to look through the pile of shirts next to him.

“You don’t have to pretend to be my, uh, date,” he says.

Andrew makes no sign that he heard Neil, or even acknowledges him. He just grabs one of the shirts from the rack and throws it at Neil. Neil only just catches it. It’s soft and light, a faded dark red. Andrew moves on to a pile of jeans and grabs a light beige pair after looking through sizes, tossing that to Neil as well.

“Go try those one,” he orders. Neil frowns but does as told when Andrew just stares at him. Like previous times, the clothes fit well in that they’re not too big on his frame per his usual preference, but these are still light and loose. The shirt has some sort of crisscross lacing at the neck that dips down his sternum, and the sleeves are a smidge too long, coming halfway down his palms. The jeans are tight, formed to his legs, especially at his calves. They’re ripped at the knees with other signs of distress low on his thighs and along his shins.

He changes back into his own clothes and goes to find Andrew and the others. They all finish up relatively quickly and go to pay. Andrew dumps his collection with Neil’s with a pointed, “This is your fault.”

Since that’s about as close as Neil is going to get as a response to whether or not Andrew’s on board with the charade, he pays for the both of them and only winces slightly at the resulting cost. Nicky has a few other shops he wants to go to so they follow after him until it’s about time to meet back up with the others and grab food.

Dan, Matt, Allison, and Renee are already there. They’ve commandeered a table big enough for all of them and two extra chairs are piled with shopping bags. They’ve also already gone and grabbed food, trays ranging from burgers to pizza to what looks like Thai. Andrew’s crew dump their bags and go off to grab food of their own before returning. Neil pays for Andrew’s burger and tooth-rotting milkshake.

“Successful day?” Nicky asks, plopping down and immediately going into conversation about purchases with Allison and Matt. Neil quietly takes a seat at the end of the table next to Andrew, busying himself with his salad. Aaron and Katelyn show up and Katelyn joins in talking about Midsummer plans and excitement. Neil keeps half an ear on their conversation, piecing together what Midsummer with the Foxes entails. It really doesn’t sound like much more than a big party involving all the Fae courts in the area.

Neil’s content to listen and pick at his salad, but not everyone else is on board with that. He’s pulled into conversation by Allison cupping her chin in her palm and leaning across the table, staring him down. “So how long have you and Andrew been enough of a thing to go to Midsummer as a pair?”

Neil looks to Andrew who continues to work on his monstrosity of a milkshake. The only sign of him paying attention to the table is the way he loudly sucks up the chocolate and brownie ice cream mix.

Neil rolls his eyes at Allison. “It’s not anyone’s business. It’s just a party.”

“Midsummer is not just a party,” Nicky butts in. “Of all the quarter days it’s the one that’s all about relationships! Erik proposed to me at the last one I went to with him in Germany.”

“It does focus on relationships, but not only of those romantic in nature. There’s an emphasis on women and family as a whole, as well,” Renee adds.

Neil frowns. “But you were trying to set me up with strangers.”

Allison just looks at him like he’s a fumbling child who doesn’t know anything. “You don’t go to Midsummer stag unless you intend to get around or your partner can’t make it for whatever reason.”

Neil still doesn’t get why they care so much. He stuffs his mouth to keep from having to continue the conversation and is relieved when Renee distracts everyone by talking about the upcoming fall semester.

Neil finishes his salad and slides his eyes to Andrew who’s dipping his French fries into what’s left of his milkshake. Andrew meets his gaze and raises a brow mockingly at him. “Enjoying your first Midsummer?”

Neil really doesn’t need his input on how much of a hassle one little fib’s turned into.

Midsummer Eve starts like a normal day up until Neil is nabbed by Allison and Nicky to get dressed and made up. He’s given a pile of clothes and told to get dressed. In addition to what he had tried on the other day, he’s given knee-high leather boots that lace up all the way and an assortment of braided leather and hemp bracelets in varying shades of brown that all together cover a good three inches of his wrists. He’s made to sit through a bit of make-up, Allison lining his eyes with dark red-brown eyeliner and smudging some sort of gel, shimmery with specks of red glitter, on his cheeks. He draws the line at the equally shimmery lip gloss Allison is poised to smear on him.

Allison isn’t too disappointed. “I figured the lip gloss would be too much for you.”

Nicky, however, sulks openly as he gets his turn to arrange Neil’s auburn curls. He adds some sort of spray to it on top of the styling gel. Neil catches sight of the can, seeing it’s some sort of gold glitter spray suitable for skin and hair.

When he’s allowed to see himself, Neil scrunches his nose at his appearance. He looks, well, Fae. There’s no other word to describe it. If he pulled down the glamour that rounded his ears, he’d look like something out of a fairy tale storybook, scars ignored. It’s almost too much, but seeing how the girls and Nicky are done up, he’s grateful that this is all they’ve done to him. He could have had glittery lips to match his hair and cheeks and a lot more sparkly jewelry.

They meet up at the court when they’re ready. Everyone’s dressed in ways to complement their natures or alignments, or matching their Fae date. They’ve all got shimmery glitter on them in some form. Neil wonders if Allison and Nicky bought out their favourite stores of everything that contained glitter and sparkles.

In essence, they look like they got lost going to a Renaissance faire. Even Andrew’s deigned to look the part, although he’s stuck with his black, just in different cuts. Neil finds himself staring at the way the shirt, similar to his own but a deep black, hugs Andrew’s shoulders. Somehow, he’s been convinced to partake in the glitter, his jeans glittering silver in the light and a matching shimmer in his hair.

Andrew comes up to him. “Staring,” he accuses, but he stares Neil up and down before reaching out and tugging at the leather necklace around Neil’s neck, pulling Neil down and leaving barely inches between their faces. He reaches up to thumb at Neil’s cheek, some of the red glitter staining his thumb.

“Couldn’t take the lip gloss? Andrew smirks.

Neil narrows his eyes. “Not like you’re wearing any either.”

Andrew shrugs and lets Neil go, moving to stand beside him waiting for Wymack and Abby to finish up lighting up the first fires. Since they can’t go around lighting full bonfires across campus and the court, they light candles that will burn until they get back. They’re put everywhere from Wymack’s office to around the court to the dorms.

“Now, most of you know how this works. We’ll be there until tomorrow morning unless one of you idiots manage to do something that’ll have us leaving before someone dies or gets cursed,” Wymack says as Abby gathers together what she needs to create a portal to the Fae realm.

Where Midsummer is held differs every year and by regions, but it is always within the Fae realm. Abby and Wymack, with help from Renee, create the portal and they all file through once it’s set up. Non-Fae enter with the Fae who invited them and Neil watches as Allison takes Renee, arm in arm, while Dan ushers Aaron and Katelyn in, and Matt takes Nicky, Nicky cheerfully clinging onto Matt’s arm. Kevin escorts Abby, so Wymack can keep the doors open and Neil realizes it’s his and Andrew’s turn.

Andrew offers an arm and a quiet, “Yes or no?”

Neil nods, says yes just as quietly, and lightly slides his hand into the offered crook.

There’s nothing overly shocking about stepping through the portal, it’s a smooth transition for the most part. But Neil feels his glamour fall the second he and Andrew are through and into a clearing alight with lanterns and the beginnings of the biggest bonfire he’s ever seen. He panics, hands going up to his ears, now pointed and distinctly elven, and he can only imagine that his pupils have turned into cat-like slits, mirror images of his father’s.

A hand comes up and grips lightly but firmly at the back of his neck and after a second, Neil sees that it’s Andrew’s. He allows Andrew to guide him to the side, towards a copse of trees decorated with little lights.

“Glamours have no effect in places like this,” Andrew says. Neil knows that there are such places, it just didn’t cross his mind that Midsummer was held in one of them. “Is this going to be a problem?”

Neil takes some controlling breaths and shakes his head. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” He looks around and sees that it’s true, no one appears to have glamours, an array of various Fae and their companions in full form. Matt’s arms are patched with bark, Dan’s hair is littered with tiny flicks of flames, and Allison’s translucent wings are tucked behind her back as she walks with Renee towards where the bonfire is being set up.

Andrew releases his hold on Neil’s neck, and Neil finds himself missing it. But he focuses and grounds himself, tries to ignore how open and vulnerable he feels without his glamour, something he’s far too used to constantly having on his person.

When he feels more or less in control again, Andrew’s staring at him. Neil raises a brow and Andrew shakes his head and starts walking towards where food is laid out. “You Fae better have alcohol at these things.”

There are various types of alcohol, mundane and Fae tinkered. Andrew sticks to the normal drinks and piles a plate high with various desserts after making Neil figure out what some of the unfamiliar ones are. Neil sticks to the array of fruits, berries, and cheeses.

Neil finds Midsummer to be interesting on the whole. The bonfire is built quickly and people in pairs or groups dance around it. Nicky flits between couples and people who appear to be single, dancing and running around cheerfully. He even takes Katelyn for a round around the fire, the two twirling amongst other couples and groups. Abby and Wymack stick to the small lake where mermaids and water aligned Fae linger. There looks to be some sort of flower garland making camp set up, rings of woven flowers and foliage set to float into the water. Neil notices that a number of attendees have flowers in their hair as the night goes on, ranging from crowns to being woven directly into their locks.

At some point, Renee comes by, a rainbow crown of flowers in her hair, and hands Neil and Andrew flower crowns of their own. Neil’s is made of flowers in hues of red and white and Andrew’s of dark purples and grey. They’re lightly dusted in glitter and Neil both wants to and doesn’t want to know where on earth they’re all getting it from. Andrew scowls at it but puts it on and dares Neil to comment on it with a glare.

“Who’s the one that looks like some woodland elf?” Andrew sneers when Neil can’t stop his smile quick enough.

“At least I don’t look like some goth pixie.” Neil gets shoved for that, dropping his fruits. He glares at Andrew who just smirks. But when Andrew goes to refill on drinks and sweets, he has an extra bowl of sugar glazed berries he claims he lost interest in on the walk back to Neil. They’re almost too sugary sweet but Neil eats them all, licking his fingers of the glaze after.

He finds Andrew watching him before Andrew looks back to the fire, watching his brother and cousin and Kevin who’s been off with Thea who came separately. Neil grabbing some more of the sugar covered fruit is met with narrowed eyes. It only encourages him to smile as he offers some of the fruit to Andrew who only scoffs and takes a swig of his drink.

As the sun begins to set, young Fae take part in some tradition involving jumping over the bonfire that’s settled down to something a little more reasonable. Couples go after and Neil watches Matt and Dan, Allison and Renee, Aaron and Katelyn, and even Wymack and Abby. He doesn’t know if he and Andrew are expected to do so, but he sees some other pairs only watching and stays settled in the grass beside Andrew. However, once it begins to grow dark and the lanterns and lights in the field grow brighter, Neil and Andrew are tracked down by the Foxes, none sober, and forced to join in the new round of dancing around the dying bonfire.

It’s not terrible, and Neil finds himself laughing and smiling at the Foxes’ actions. And then Nicky ushers Neil towards Andrew exclaiming something about how the two haven’t danced at all together the entire night and Neil just barely stops himself from crashing fully into the scowling man.

“I’m going to kill him,” Andrew mutters but he holds out a hand and directs to Neil, “Yes or no?”

Neil blinks in surprise but he finds himself taking Andrew’s hand and saying, “Yes.”

“Hands don’t go below my shoulders,” Andrew states, his own going to Neil’s waist after pausing for Neil to nod his consent. Neil lightly places his hands on Andrew’s shoulders, feeling the muscle and warmth through his thin shirt.

As they dance around the fire, Neil thinks back and realizes he’s not entirely clueless as to why Andrew’s name was on his tongue. They may have started off rocky when Neil first met the Foxes, but Andrew’s safe. Andrew is strange and dangerous but safe. He’s not safe in the conventional way, but he understands Neil and Neil knows he can trust the other man.

He doesn’t know what look is on his face but Andrew stares just as intently at him for the duration of the dance before they break apart. Andrew leads the way to the side, finding a patch of grass barely touched by the firelight. Neil sits down beside him, just short of their shoulders brushing.

The festivities die down, people dozing off around the fire, going into the woods to sleep for a few hours. The Foxes all gather to where Neil and Andrew are, eating and drinking until one by one they nod off and Neil and Andrew are the only Foxes awake.

“The autumnal equinox is next,” Andrew says quietly. “Now that you’ve agreed to this one, fat chance of evading any of the others.”

Neil groans, falling over his bent legs, pressing his forehead to his knees. “I have to deal with Allison and Nicky trying to set me up four times a year now?” He turns his head when the expected jab from Andrew doesn’t come, staining the knees of his pants with the red glitter that is still stubbornly stuck to his cheeks.

Andrew’s looking at him, considering. His flower crown is tilted and in the flickering lights of the fire there’s something unearthly about the human. Neil wants to reach out and touch the curve of his jaw, feel the strength of his shoulder again.

“Staring,” Andrew says.

“So are you,” Neil replies.

“Why did you lie?”

Neil frowns. “About?”

Andrew rolls his eyes and gestures around.

“Oh. I just wanted them to get off my back,” Neil answers. “I just blurted your name out.” The shuttered blankness of Andrew’s expression has Neil offering more, a truth he’s still figuring out. “At first I didn’t know why I picked you, but. I think I would have asked you anyway.”

Neil doesn’t know if he’s said too much, revealed too much, but Andrew only reaches a hand out towards Neil’s face. “Yes or no?”

Neil sits up, pressing his cheek into Andrew’s waiting hand, keeps his hands in the grass.

“Yes.”

#neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #all for the game #aftg #andreilweek2018 #my writing #tumblr fic

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nekojitachan · 6 years

Note

Im sorry i feel like im bugging you with all these messages all the time, i know i suck. But please consider stuart meeting andrew in the Clouds universe 😍😍😍 omg he would flip, no one touches his nephew

Aww, never fear in that regard. :)

And here you go! Clouds universe, Andrew and Stuart meeting up! As previously stated, this is a fic I want to ‘flesh out’ more once RP is finished, so there will be more backfill on Neil and Andrew’s relationship at some point, but this will shed light on some things for people and yes, be that Stuart&Andrew interaction.

Just some vague past mention/rough summaries of Neil and Andrew’s childhoods (more Neil than Andrew).

*******

Andrew sipped his coffee while a middle-aged man in a plainblue sweatshirt and a cap pulled so far down his brow he kept having to tilthis head back to see shuffled back and forth in front of the counter while Neilfetched one of those parcels for himand nearly forgot to take his coffee with him. Andrew exchanged a look withhis… his boyfriend (that still took some getting used to), where Neil gave hima slight smile and a shrug before he resumed cleaning the counter.

Andrew worked a little more on yet another essay for his onehistory class while Neil dealt with two older ladies who had apparentlystumbled onto The Bolt-Hole in their wanderings that day and might becomeregulars judging from the pleased noises they made over their tea and desserts.Still, they weren’t too loud or bothersome and Andrew supposed the place neededcustomers other than him to keep up some air of legitimacy – that and theydidn’t stay too long.

Neil cleaned their table then came over to his with thatslight smile on his face and a new cup of mocha in his hands. “Almost finishedwith your homework?” he asked while he set the mug down by Andrew’s laptop andpicked up the empty one.

“Just another page, so I’ll be done by the time you closeup,” Andrew said, which made the smile strengthen. Giving in to impulse, hehooked a finger into one of the straps of Neil’s black apron and tugged himcloser. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Neil said without any hesitation as he leaned in alittle closer for a kiss that was little more than a press of lips, not whenthey were in a shop where anyone could walk in at a given moment.

Still, there was Neil inviting Andrew back to his apartment mostweekends and nights to sit and talk, to cook meals together (Andrew had workedin a restaurant in Charleston, Neil knew the basics after living alone) andventure out a little (Stirling for Andrew’s class, a couple of the local parksjust to walk around).

To slowly map out something between them, to deal with theirvarious issues; Neil accepted Andrew’s need for borders, for consent, in a waythat made Andrew wonder if he was real at times (and want to track down hisparents and everyone else who hurt him at others). It hadn’t gone far beyondkissing and his hands beneath Neil’s shirt yet, but it was enough to make himkeep bringing up the link about registering full time at the University ofManchester, just like Professor Anton had been arguing for him to do the lastcouple of months.

It wasn’t like Aaron didn’t have a life of his own now.

He’d gotten through half a page more (and Neil had droppedoff a brownie for him, complete with whipped cream and a wink) when his phonerang, which was a rare occurrence. He almost ignored it when he saw the callerbefore he figured he might as well get it over with. “Go away,” he told hiscousin.

“Aw come on, is that the way you greet someone you adore?”Neil wailed, ever the dramatic bastard.

“Yes, and I don’t adore you.”

“You know you do,” Nicky grumbled. “So… how are thingsgoing? I assume since you’re not coming for a visit that you and your sweetieare doing well?” He sounded hopeful for some reason, which Andrew toleratedsince he wasn’t whining about him coming to Cologne for a weekend anymore.

Andrew glanced over at Neil, who was busy mopping the floorin preparation of the coffee shop closing for the weekend; Neil seemed tonotice the attention and glanced up at him, his dark-dyed hair falling onto hisridiculously big eyes and a tentative smile on his face. “They’re going,” wasall he said as that damn fluttering sensation filled his chest.

“Andrew….” Nicky sounded exasperated for a moment and thenhe chuckled. “Okay, I’m going to take that as a ‘good’ because I know you. Am Iever going to get the chance to meet him? Erik and I can come visit for-“

“No.” Andrew didn’tmean for it to come out that harsh, enough for Neil to give him a worried lookor for Nicky to go silent on the other end. “I… let me talk to him,” he said ashe fumbled for his cigarettes, well aware of everything Nicky had done for him– him and Aaron. “Don’t pull your surprise shit, okay?” He didn’t want Nickyand Erik to just show up out of the blue and freak Neil out, especially withhow extreme Nicky could be.

“All right.” Nicky sounded happy again. “I promise, no ninjaattacks on you and your sweetie! Just let us know when we can finally meet thisprecious unicorn who-“

“Nicky, shut up,” Andrew told his cousin. “And don’t ever call him that again – any of those things. Now leave me alone,I’m busy.” He hung up and put his phone on silent.

Neil was quiet until he came over to Andrew’s table. “Whatdoes Nicky want?” He’d heard Andrew’s story about his cousin, about Nickystepping in to keep him and Aaron out of Luther’s hands, about what Nicky’sfather had done to him and how Nicky now lived in Germany with Erik.

“To meet you,” Andrew admitted, curious to see how Neilwould react to that. “I told him I’d talk to you first.” They’d only been… whatever was between them, it had onlybeen a few weeks.

“Oh.” Neil chewed on his bottom lip for a moment while he heldon to the mop with both hands then shrugged. “It would be nice? I mean, to meetsomeone related to you who’s talkative?” There was a hint of a smile on hislips as he resumed cleaning the floor. “What a concept.”

“No tip for you,” Andrew called out as he felt an oddtension leave him which he hadn’t realized had been there until Neil hadanswered about Nicky.

“I’m heartbroken. Finish your essay so we can head to theArt Gallery once I close up.”

Andrew pretended to flick ash on the clean floor and got arude gesture in return, then focused on finishing his essay; their plans thatafternoon were to drop his things at Neil’s apartment and feed Pita, then hitthe Manchester Art Gallery for a couple of hours and pick up something to eatbefore returning to the apartment.

He’d never thought he’d look forward to sleeping on a couchand dealing with a possessive demon of a cat, but such things happened when animpossible pipedream of a young man stumbled into one’s life, he supposed. Animprobable, gorgeous young man busy boxing up some brownies and chocolate cakeAndrew liked so he could enjoy them later that weekend.

Perhaps this was all one big joke on his part, one big ‘fuckyou’ where he ended up with hyperglycemia and thirty pounds heavier when hereturned to the States, along with irrefutable proof that he was meant to bealone for the rest of his life.

“Uhm, did you want the torte as well? I know you like it butyou keep complaining about having to work out because of your trousers beingtight.”

Then Neil did that thing where he seemed to read Andrew’smind and Andrew pulled up the damn link again, along with Anton’s office hours….

“No torte,” Andrew told him as he drafted an email to Antonabout meeting on Tuesday.

“Okay.”

Andrew hit ‘send’ before he could second-guess himself then shutdown his laptop so he could pack everything into his backpack; Bren should bethere soon to take them to Neil’s apartment. Everything was put away and he wasdebating another cigarette when the door opened to admit Neil’s chauffer/minder…along with an older man whom Andrew had never seen.

Bren didn’t appear happy for some reason, which immediatelyput Andrew on edge, while the stranger appeared in a bad mood. Yet Neil smiledas he came around the counter, hands busy pulling off his apron. “Uncle Stuart!You didn’t tell me you’d be in town.”

So that was Neil’s ‘Uncle Stuart’ – a middle-aged man just alittle taller than Neil with a slender build as well (though more compact thanleggy runner), pale grey eyes and blond hair touched with grey. Andrew caught asimilar feature here and there – the full bottom lips, the straight eyebrows,the long, slender fingers – but the main resemblance was the lack of height, leanness…and keen intelligence, judging from how ‘Stuart’ kept glancing around in-betweenstudying Neil.

“Had some business in the area so I figured I’d stop by tocheck in on you, kiddo,” he said as he gave his nephew a hug; Neil hesitatedonly a moment in returning it, but Andrew had the impression that it was more acase of his friend being unused to such gestures and not that Stuart botheredhim. “I hear you’re doing a good job and the classes are going well.”

“I’m trying,” Neil said as he hung his head, never one toput himself forward; something seemed to occur to him as he glanced around thequiet coffee shop. “Uhm… do you want something? I can-“

“I’m just stopping by, but you can run to the store and fetchme some smokes, yeah?” He held out a folded bill to Neil. “You know what brand.Bren will go with you.”

Andrew had a feeling he knew why Neil’s uncle had decided to‘stop by’, which was soon confirmed. “Ah, okay.” Neil looked over his uncle’sshoulder at Andrew. “We’ll be right-“

“Just you and Bren,”Stuart insisted. “Me and your friend will wait here.”

Neil was quiet at that while Bren shifted back and forth inobvious discomfort. “Uncle… I don’t… that’s-“

Stuart shoved the money at Neil and clicked his tongue. “He’llbe fine, I promise. Go get the smokes and come right back, Bren tells me youhave a date tonight.” His face twisted at the last two words as if he foundthem distasteful to say.

Neil studied his uncle for a couple of seconds before hesighed. “You promise, right?”

“Yes.” Stuart glanced upward as if beseeching patience for amoment before his expression softened. “I won’t do too much damage.”

“Okay, that’s not helping,” Bren said in a rush as hemotioned for Neil to join him. “He’s just gonna talk, all right? It’s a talk thing, so let’s get going.”

Neil didn’t appear convinced by the two men as he glanced atAndrew again, who gave him a slight nod to show that it was okay; only then didhe pocket the money and leave the shop with Bren. As soon his friend(boyfriend) was gone, Andrew shook out a cigarette and lit it while he stareddown Stuart Hatford.

The man didn’t look all that impressed as he leaned againstthe counter with his arms folded over his chest, dressed in an expensive greysuit as if he was some legitimate businessman. “Andrew Minyard, twenty-oneyears old, criminology major. Born in California and put into the childcaresystem by one Tilda Minyard, nee Hemmick. You bounced around various fosterhomes until you were thirteen and spent three years in juvie for destruction ofproperty and petty larceny, until remanded into your mother’s custody in SouthCarolina.” Stuart didn’t sound pleased as he recounted the ‘highlights’ ofAndrew’s life, his expression flat and eyes sharp as if he waited to provokesome sort of reaction. “When she died less than a year later in a car crash youmanaged to survive, your cousin Nicholas Hemmick assumed custody. Then you and yourtwin brother got scholarships to Palmetto State University, and you end uphere, in Manchester, for a year studying abroad. You, a troublemaker with apast and nothing to your name, end up here,dating my nephew. I’m not happy about that.”

Andrew flicked ash into the small tray on the table. “Really?I couldn’t tell, not when you show up and chase Neil away to talk to me, do thewhole ‘I looked into you’ spiel and everything. What’s next? Threaten to breakmy kneecaps if I don’t leave him alone?” How terribly cliché.

Stuart stared at him for a couple of seconds then snorted ashe pulled out a pack of cigarettes of his own – a full pack, Andrew noted. “Okay,you don’t scare easily. Bren did try to tell me that about you.”

How nice to know; Andrew thought that he got along with thebodyguard and that there weren’t any problems between them. “No, I don’t, especiallynot over anything ridiculous like this.” There was nothing in his past thatStuart could throw at him to scare him off – he’d lived through it after all, bore its scars and dealt with itsnightmares all of the time.

“Ridiculous?” Stuart pushed away from the counter andglared. “This isn’t a joke, you little prick. Has Abr- has Neil said anythingabout his mother to you?”

“Yes, he has,” Andrew gritted out as he smashed his cigaretteinto the tray while a rare spark of anger burned in his chest; he’d caught thestart of Neil’s middle name, the name he’d confessed to Andrew just a week agoas they’d lay on his bed. It had been late at night and Andrew hadn’t wanted togo lie down alone on the couch nor had Neil wanted him to leave just yet, andthey’d been talking about random things that had entered their heads (had triedto find something not too painful for once). Neil told him about how his motherwould call him ‘Abram’, the one constant name among all the aliases, the middlename she’d given him, the name she(and he) didn’t hate.

But Andrew didn’t reveal that he knew about it, didn’tbetray Neil’s trust just because his uncle was being an asshole. “I know shemarried an abusive bastard and ran away with Neil because he was beating theshit out of both of them, and you’re helping him now that she’s dead.” Therewas more to it than that, bits and pieces Neil revealed in trickles as theygrew closer, as the trust strengthened between then, but again, Andrew wasn’tgoing to say anything more just because Neil’s uncle was being overprotectivefor no good reason.

Still, he could tell it was more than Stuart had expected. “Thenyou should realize he doesn’t need some punk in his life who’s just looking fora pretty face to enjoy while he’s overseas for a few months.”

Andrew found himself on his feet before he realized that heintended to move and had to force himself to keep his palms flat on the table;he knew that Bren was armed and he was willing to bet that Stuart was, too, andthat Neil would be more than upset if he came back and found his unclebleeding. “If you think Neil would allow himself to be used like that, you’re afucking imbecile and have no clue at all about your nephew.”

Stuart had twitched at his sudden movement and dropped hisarms to his sides, his gaze intent as he watched Andrew. “What, nothing to sayfor yourself?”

“Why? You’re not going to believe a word I say,” Andrewargued. “You don’t know me, but you should damn well know Neil.”

“Huhn.” Stuart went to drop the cigarette held between hisright fingers then seemed to think better of it; he inhaled deeply from it whilehe regarded Andrew for several seconds. “I don’t like you.”

“I don’t care.”

Stuart’s eyes narrowed at that. “I’m not going to let anyonehurt Neil, including some Yank who’s just fooling around with him to pass thetime. If you do more than that? Broken kneecaps will be the least of yourtroubles.”

Andrew put his cigarettes away while he held the bastard’sgaze. “Get used to me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Right, you’re headed back to the States in June,” Stuartsaid with a smile. “About two months now. Such a shame to see you go.”

All Andrew did was stare back until Stuart’s expression grewuncertain. It was quiet between them for over a minute. “I’m serious, if youhurt him, I will hurt you,” Stuart said in a low, menacingmanner.

Andrew continued to gaze back at him without any concern.

Stuart had taken to muttering beneath his breath (somethingabout cocky Yanks) when Neil and Bren (the latter panting as if he’d been forcedto run) burst into the shop. “I got them!” Neil waved the pack of cigarettes inthe air as he glanced around, his dark eyes quick to latch on to Andrew. Hisshoulders slumped in relief and he all but threw the cigarettes at his uncle. “Uhm…everything all right?”

Stuart grunted as he caught the flimsy excuse to get hisnephew out of the coffee shop for the damn shovel talk, or whatever the hell ithad been. “Yeah, thanks.” He shoved the pack into the left pocket of his coatand reached out to tousle Neil’s disheveled hair. “I better get going, but I’llbe back this way on Monday. How about dinner then?”

“All right,” Neil agreed, probably because Andrew was busywith stuff on campus that night. “Let me know when you’ll be by.”

“I’ll do that.” Stuart nodded to a still flushed Bren on hisway out and ignored Andrew, which was fine. As soon as he was gone, Neilhurried over to Andrew’s side.

“Are you all okay? What did he do? Nothing bad, right?” The wordscame out in a rush and Neil’s hands flitted through the air as if he wanted totouch Andrew in reassurance but wouldn’t.

“I’m fine,” Andrew reassured his boyfriend (still weird),reaching out to slide his right hand around the back of Neil’s neck to settlehim. “In a rather fucked up way, he’s just looking out for you.”

“By talking to you alone?” Neil appeared confused by that,but then again, he hadn’t been involved with anyone before Andrew so there’dbeen no need for Stuart to do his ‘don’t hurt my nephew’ routine before, hadthere? “All right.”

“Ah, he’s just… uhm, making sure Andrew’s on the up and up,”Bren said as he wiped at his sweaty brow. “I’ll go turn off everything in theback, okay?”

“Okay.” Neil frowned at his friend’s departing back beforehe looked at Andrew. “Why would Stuart do that? I’m the one going out with you and I don’t have a problem withthings.”

Andrew tugged Neil a little closer. “He’s watching out for you,or thinks that he’s watching out for you.”

Neil’s brows drew together for a moment and then he smiled. “Oh,like-“ He seemed to catch himself, leaving Andrew to wonder what he’d beenabout to say. “He doesn’t have to worry, not about you.”

“You sound so certain.” Andrew wasn’t sure he liked that; hehad no intention of hurting Neil, in playing him false, but there were no surethings in life. He wasn’t used to people thinking that he was a sure thing in life.

Once again he was graced with a shy, sweet smile which madehis heart do ridiculous things. “About you? Yes.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Andrew muttered, yet he tugged Neileven closer and felt his traitorous heart race when the fool murmured ‘yes’ tohim before their lips met.

He hoped that Bren took his time turning off the lights.

*******

I think that’s it for the prompts tonight, things got busy this weekend. But RP22 should be out next Sunday!

Buy me a coffee

#nekojitachanfics #prompt fic #clouds fic #andreil

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s0ym1lk · 6 years

Text

Here’s my @aftgexchange gift for @daddymemeyard! You asked for twins with curly hair and glasses, andreil, and coffee shop au, so that’s what I bring you! Fic can also be read here: ao3 -- Outside the window of the Eden’s Twilight coffee shop, the snow was flurrying so thickly that nothing could be seen past it, not even the obnoxious strings of icicle lights that Nicky and Roland had insisted on hanging from the roof overhang. The weather channel had predicted a few inches overnight at most, but considering it had been snowing for the entirety of Andrew’s shift, he expected it would be rather more than that. Winters in Columbia were unpredictable at best.

Not that he minded overmuch, because it meant that not a single one of the tables in the coffee shop was occupied, and he didn’t expect that to change in the next two hours. They got few customers this late at night on a Sunday to begin with. He’d considered closing up early and calling Nicky to pick him up, but that would mean subjecting himself to his cousin’s well-meaning but irritable nattering several hours ahead of schedule, and besides, Andrew had the sneaking suspicion that in his absence, Aaron might have invited his useless girlfriend over. So instead, he snatched a couple of mint double-fudge brownies from the display case, put on his glasses, and set to work balancing the accounts for the coffee shop in peaceful silence. It was normally Roland’s job, but considering he had trouble counting to four on a good day, it was better for all involved if Andrew did it. Nobody at Eden’s wanted to see if the sugar-free pineapple syrup fiasco of two years ago could be topped.

Andrew was halfway through his work and absently pushing his too-long, curly bangs out of the way when the front door jingled suddenly. Snatching his glasses from his face, Andrew looked up as a gust of chilly wind swept through the shop. No one in their right mind could be out in this weather. And yet, there stood a figure in a dark jacket and a beanie, struggling to close the door against the biting wind.

“We’re closed.” Andrew called, trying to keep the scowl off his face. The figure turned to him and unwrapped a snow-crusted scarf from around his neck.

“Your sign says you’re open until midnight.” replied a soft voice, and oh. Oh, this was a problem.

The figure that emerged from below the layers of winter gear was a man about Andrew’s age with a thin face dominated by high cheekbones and icy blue eyes. The strands of hair that poked from his beanie were a rich auburn colour. One side of his face was criss-crossed with thin, neat scars; the other was a mess of shiny pink skin, clearly left from some type of burn. Everything he wore was faded and threadbare, though expertly patched; his expression, when he turned it on Andrew, was tired but searching.

Andrew met a lot of people, working at a coffee shop. And yet, he met very few who were interesting.

“Those hours are for members only.” he tried instead. The man, halfway through shucking his coat, paused, and then continued to shrug it off.

“Well then, can I get a membership card?” he asked. When no answer was forthcoming, he continued. “Look, it’s practically a blizzard out there. I’ll sit over by the window and not bother you, I promise. And all I want is a black coffee.”

Andrew watched him for a moment, considering, then turned to the coffee pot and snatched a cheerful snowman-decorated coffee cup from the dispenser. He’d brewed this batch of coffee several hours ago and it likely tasted stale, but if his customer had wanted fresh coffee, he should have asked. It would have been enjoyable to tell him no.

The man was carefully counting change out onto the counter when Andrew plunked the coffee down in front of him. Looking steadily into his ice-blue eyes (wide, thick-lashed, and annoyingly unique in colour), Andrew swept the change on the counter into a pile and then pushed it onto the floor. Satisfied by the way his customer’s eyebrows drew together in confusion and slight irritation, Andrew took his ledger and his white chocolate mocha and retreated to the opposite end of the counter.

The man picked up the change and then took it and his coffee to the furthest table from the counter. Andrew continued his tallying and waited for the inevitable interruption, but every time he glanced up, the auburn-haired man was curled up in his chair, staring out the window. He even seemed to be drinking the coffee without protest. Silence reigned in the coffee shop for a good hour - long enough that a lesser man than Andrew might have forgotten about the stranger’s presence.

He was wiping down the espresso machines when the bell on the front door jingled again, breaking the quiet peace in the shop. Andrew glanced up, ready to drive another hopeful away with his sharp tongue, but this time the figure that walked through the doorway was familiar. Against the backdrop of darkness and swirling snow, Nicky's bright turquoise coat and sunshine-yellow scarf and matching hat were eye-searing. The smile he gave Andrew was brighter than all of them put together.

“Hey! I came early because I figured this place must be dead, what with the weather like it is. You ready to - oh, you actually do have a customer. Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

The stranger was eyeing Nicky warily. One hand was on the discarded beanie on the table, the other clutching the strap of a faded duffel Andrew hadn’t noticed when he’d first walked in. He looked ready to bolt; an unusual reaction by the average person to Nicky’s presence. Curiouser and curiouser.

“Get tired of hanging out with Aaron and his thing?” Andrew asked snidely, returning to his task. Nicky, well used to Andrew’s biting comments, ignored his tone and stomped his boots on the welcome mat to dislodge the buildup of snow.

“Katelyn went home actually. She was afraid she’d get snowed in and have to deal with you coming home and trying to murder her.” Nicky eyed the stranger at the table with ill-concealed curiousity. “I guess I can hang out for another hour since we have some business.”

“No, it’s okay.” the stranger interrupted, standing. He had pulled his beanie back over his hair and was in the process of shrugging on his coat. “I should get going anyway. Thanks for staying open for me.”

“It’s kind of our job, no matter what Andrew tells you.” Nicky said with a wry smile. “Hey, there’s no other car in the parking lot. Do you need a ride somewhere? It’s too cold to be taking public transport, especially this late at night. I don’t think the bus is even still running.”

There went Nicky again, trying to save the entire world. Andrew had been working to break him of the habit for years, but the lessons never took. He was thinking the next step should be something more consequential. A spray bottle or a shock collar, perhaps.

“No, that’s alright. It’s not far.” the stranger said, looking somewhat spooked by Nicky’s offer. He was clutching the coffee cup hard enough that his knuckles were white.

“Seriously, it’s not a problem.” Nicky paused for a moment, then his eyes settled on the duffel bag at the man’s feet. “Oh my god, you don’t have anywhere to stay, do you? That’s why you’re here in this weather. I can’t in good conscience let you go out in this. We have a spare room at our place, why don’t you come stay for the night? You’ll freeze, otherwise.”

“Nicky.” Andrew said mildly. Nicky knew him well enough to hear the threat, but Andrew could see in the stubborn set of his shoulders that he wasn’t going to let this one go. Someone save him from bleeding fucking hearts like his cousin’s. It was a wonder he hadn’t been murdered in a back alley before Andrew came along to shoot down his stupid ideas.

Still, he couldn’t deny there was something intriguing about watching the stranger’s shoulders creep up towards his ears in discomfort, and the way his eyes darted around the shop, looking for a quick exit.

It had been a boring year. And Bee was always telling him he needed more human interaction. This likely wasn’t what she meant, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Nicky’s right.” Andrew said into the awkward silence. Nicky’s hopeful smile turned into a look of confusion as he glanced at Andrew. Clearly, he hadn’t expected support from his cousin on this. It felt good to keep him on his toes. “It would be a shame if we came in to open tomorrow and found a snowman in front of the shop.”

“It’s settled then!” Nicky said gleefully, cutting off any chance the stranger had of protesting. “Come on, let’s head home before we all turn into snowmen!”

With Andrew at his back as the trio exited the shop, the stranger didn’t have any choice but to follow Nicky to the car parked haphazardly in the handicapped spot in front of Eden’s. He made for the backseat, but froze when Andrew set a hand on the door warningly and pointed to the passenger side seat in the front. Nicky didn’t notice his discomfort, too busy chattering as he started the car and fiddled with the radio. Andrew barely noticed the Christmas music pumping through the speakers. He made eye contact with the stranger in the rear-view mirror and smiled, sharklike.

“I’m Nicky, by the way, and this is Andrew. Knowing him, he didn’t bother introducing himself when you came in. Roland’s been trying to get him to wear his name tag, but with Andrew you have to pick your battles.” Nicky backed out of the parking spot in a reckless maneuver without even looking behind him and gunned for the exit to the parking lot. The stranger looked away from the mirror to brace himself on the dashboard, conceding victory of the staring contest to Andrew.

“I got that impression. ...My name’s Neil. Josten.”

Nicky alternated between mindless nattering and badgering Neil with questions all the way home, unshaken by Neil’s terse one-word answers. Andrew was content to sit back and enjoy the uncomfortable atmosphere in the car. By the time Nicky swung into the driveway of the cousins’ house, Neil looked ready to throw himself from the moving vehicle if it would get him away from the two of them. But he followed them up the steps and towards the front door wordlessly, still clutching the strap of his duffel bag like it was his only lifeline.

When they walked into the living room, Aaron was on the couch flipping through the channels. He looked up at them, glanced at Neil’s unfamiliar face, and went back to channel-flipping without a word.

“This is Neil.” Nicky said to the side of his cousin’s unlistening head, gesturing at their newest addition. “Neil, this is Aaron, my cousin and - obviously - Andrew’s twin. Neil’s staying the night.”

“You let Nicky bring home a stray?” Aaron said, eyes still on the TV. The question was clearly addressed to Andrew. Andrew ignored it in favour of snatching a pack of cigarettes off the coffee table and heading for the kitchen. Behind him, he heard Nicky offering to show Neil to his room. The sound of their footsteps on the hallway carpet faded as Andrew shoved a window open and pulled a lighter and a cigarette from his pack.

By the time Andrew had finished his second cigarette, Aaron had turned the TV off and gone to bed, and the rest of the house was quiet. Andrew made his way down the hallway towards the bedrooms silently and stopped at the door to the guest bedroom. It was shut firmly, no noise coming from the other side. Nicky’s door was shut as well; Andrew could hear him talking to somebody on the phone, likely his boyfriend in Germany. Rolling his eyes, Andrew snatched a book from the bedside table of his own room and returned to the other side of the house to settle in by the front door, waiting.

It was two AM before he heard careful, almost ghostlike steps from the vicinity of the hallway leading to the bedrooms. He looked up from his novel just as Neil’s eyes landed on him and he froze. He was dressed in his beanie and jacket again, duffel slung across his back.

“Leaving so soon, Neil? Nicky didn’t extend enough hospitality for you?” Andrew asked him lightly. Neil’s brows furrowed above his attractive eyes at the statement. Andrew could practically hear the hamster wheels turning in his head as he struggled to come up with an excuse. Nothing must have come to mind, because he didn’t offer one.

“What do you want from me?” Neil asked instead. Andrew let his eyes glance over him, from his scarred face and cupid’s bow lips to his ratty converse, soaked through by the snow and sporting a huge hole in one side. Neil tensed, but didn’t falter under the scrutiny.

“I find you interesting, Neil Josten. How often do you think it happens that somebody with a face likes yours walks into our coffee shop, carrying a concealed pistol in a holster and his whole life on his back? Mmm?”

Neil was smart enough not to reach for the gun Andrew had spotted tucked under his shirt at the small of his back. Would a rabbit like him be vicious enough to use it, Andrew wondered. He thought it might be interesting to find out. But more interesting by far was to stand up, book in hand, and pass Neil on his way to his bedroom, leaving the stranger a straight shot to the front door. As he stepped past Neil, he caught a whiff of cigarette smoke and the barest hint of something spicy. Neil didn’t turn towards him, but his head cocked a bit to keep him in his peripherals.

“Nicky makes passable french toast on Sunday mornings.” he said lightly. Neil huffed at that, and Andrew knew he’d understood what Andrew was telling him.

“I don’t like french toast.” Neil replied. Andrew made a careless gesture over his shoulder and continued down the hallway towards his room. He paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“Your problem, not mine.” he said, and disappeared into his room.

He awoke early the next morning, groggy from lack of sleep, and padded out into the kitchen in search of a hot chocolate or a cigarette, whichever was easier to reach.

The sounds of Nicky talking spiritedly to someone, accompanied by the smell of eggs and bacon cooking, reached him before he rounded the corner. When he did, it was to the sight of Nicky overcooking an omelette at the stove and a familiar auburn-haired figure seated at the breakfast bar, cradling a cup of coffee.

Neil turned and met Andrew’s gaze squarely, coffee mug pressed to his lips. His look was challenging. I’m still here. Are you going to say anything about it? It dared him. Andrew looked away from Neil without a word and set about making himself an extra-large cup of hot chocolate.

#aftgexchange #andreil #aftg #tfc #tfc fanfic #all for the game #the foxhole court #they still have pineapple syrup in the back #nobody wants it because it tastes like glue with aspartame in it #andrew spent a whole shift x-ing out the eyes of the snowmen on the coffee cups and hiding them in the stock #nicky found most of them #but not all of them #aaron and andrew independently bought the same glasses in different colours #and they're low-key mad about it #neil regrets thinking a coffee shop is a better idea than freezing to death #next time he'll pick a mcdonald's where people won't try to take him home like a stray

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