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#ask your doctor if neil josten is right for you
jtl-fics · 9 months
Note
Time After Time:
Math Nerd AU
May 19th, 2020 (in the past future [before the reincarnation])
Math Nerd AU | Unusual Fic Asks
Neil was coming to accept that he wasn't going to die of old age as the doctors told him the recovery time for his twisted knee. He would need to do physical therapy before he could even have the surgery and then additional physical therapy afterwards.
It would take too long.
The Moriyamas would cut him as a useless thread. "Mr. Josten, you'll play again." The Doctor assures, "You will just-"
"Thank you Doctor, yes I understand." Neil interrupts. "Let's schedule a time to start the physical therapy." he says because a part of him feels spiteful. He knows how Ichirou works, knows that his death will look like a suicide.
People who are committing suicide don't make plans right? Maybe his death would be just enough to topple it all to the ground and save Kevin and Jean. He makes his appointment and hobbles out of his doctor's appointment to find Andrew in the waiting room.
He wonders how much longer he'll get to look at him.
He'll never actually be ready to stop.
Andrew's gaze snaps to him and Andrew has always been able to read him like a book. "It's too long?" he asks.
Neil laughs because, as usual, there was no point in hiding things from Andrew. "I've had my will ready for a while. I'm leaving-"
"Stop." Andrew raises his hand, "you aren't dying. Not before me. I'm older." Andrew argues.
Neil smiles and wishes to say the three words that bubble up in him but he wants them to be the last ones he says to Andrew if he can manage it. Saying them now would only make Andrew upset and possibly leave.
"Let's go home. I wanna see the cats." he says instead. It doesn't matter too much, his will spells out where everything is supposed to go. Andrew helps him into the car and puts his crutches in the backseat. They drive in silence and Neil finds himself looking at every black car with out of state licenses.
He looks at his phone because there's no point in worrying. His fate was sealed the moment that Ohio player rammed into him. He hopes Andrew likes one of the options he listed in his will. He hopes he stays close to Andrew, hopes he can protect him from beyond.
He prepares texts for all of his friends as he goes. Most are just I love yous and some thanking them for being especially kind to him. His text to Matt a long note on how sorry he is that he won't get to watch his god daughter grow up. His note to Aaron to make sure that his daughters take after Katelyn when they're born.
They get home and Neil is glad to see that there are no cars in their driveway. It does not mean that Ichirou isn't there, but it gives him a bit more time to look at Andrew.
Andrew's jaw is tight as he pulled into their garage.
"I've had arrangements made and paid for Andrew. It's going-"
"Shut up." Andrew hisses and gets out of the car.
Neil's phone rings and he sees a familiar area code he looks as Andrew shuts the door as he enters the house.
He hits accept. 32 wasn't bad considering he never expected 20.
"Hello?" he asks.
"Wesninski." Ichirou greets and Neil lets his eyes close. "I hear you will not be able to pay me." he comments.
"It will be quite some time before I can work on the court again My Lord." he doesn't lie or try to hide it. "I understand what this means for our deal. May I-"
"I wish to strike a different deal." Ichirou interrupts and Neil blinks.
"You...wish to strike a different deal?" he asks.
"I am in need of someone with your certifications Wesninski." Ichirou says.
Neil's jaw tenses. He can't do his father's work. He'd rather just have Ichirou shoot him and let it be done.
"You have kept up to date with your CPA certification from what I understand?" Ichirou continues.
Neil blinks.
What?
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codename-adler · 3 years
Text
...dance 'til you find someone to die for...
What if instead of Seth, Riko tried to get rid of Aaron?
Chapter 5 ♟️ [table of contents]
(CW: suicidal ideation, mental health problems, addiction, hospital, death threats, abuse, torture, alcoholism)
From then on, the balance shifted.
Even if Aaron wasn’t taken away to a facility, he wasn’t let off the hook by Wymack, Abby or Betsy.
While Kevin got his nose fixed, his torso bandaged and his lungs oxygenated, Aaron was evaluated.
Right beside Kevin.
Which, humiliating.
And all this because one Kevin Day had refused to let him out of his sight.
Aaron didn’t get why.
Kevin didn’t care; Aaron didn’t matter; they weren’t friends. Even Kevin’s little stunt and speech from earlier didn’t sit well with Aaron, deep down, very, very deep down, it made something break inside of him.
Aaron had so many questions, yet here he was, being the one who’s interrogated about stress and moods and dark ideations. He answered all the questions the psych nurse asked him; lied through them all, too. Neil fucking Josten wasn’t the only liar of the bunch, after all.
He was just the least convincing, therefore the most obvious.
Where Neil was a bad liar, Aaron was a good one.
Aaron was let off with a diagnosis of mild insomnia and some sleeping pills he’d have to hand over to Andrew as soon as he got back on campus. He smiled at the nurse, asked her some questions about her work while mentioning he was in pre-Med at PSU, thanked her profusely for her help until he was left alone with Kevin behind closed curtains.
“Didn’t take you for a bullshitter, Minyard,” Kevin huffed after a few moments of silence.
“Didn’t take you for a Braveheart either, Day,” Aaron replied blandly.
“Cut the shit, Aaron. God, I should’ve let you been committed, you’re such a fucking asshole. Saved myself a whole lot of trouble.”
“Oh, yeah, 'cause this was all a grand gesture to win me over and not just a pathetic attempt at keeping your team on track, and that’s without mentioning the threat Andrew would have posed if you’d come back without me! Good luck keeping your guard dog in check if you lose his favorite chew toy!” Aaron whispered aggressively.
“Fuck you Aaron,” Kevin spat back.
“Yeah, you wish, fucker,” Aaron responded without thinking, before turning his back to Kevin.
He didn’t see Kevin’s blush.
Only Kevin knew he was red-cheeked, and even then he didn’t know if it was from anger or embarrassment, or something else… But nobody would ever know.
Kevin sighed.
“Look… I don’t need to tell you that we can’t trust anyone. You don’t wanna talk, so I don’t know what happened last night, but what I do know is that he found a way in, and he’ll try again. He’s got people, everywhere, at all times. For all we know, that nurse was a fake one. Those doctors who tried to take you could have been working for him. So we stick together, got it? That’s what we’ll do,” Kevin spoke quietly.
Aaron still didn’t turn around.
“And for what it’s worth, you know Andrew would’ve come to get you out, if… You have to know he would.”
That did make Aaron face Kevin.
“And who are you to be so sure of that? You weren’t there, Kevin! You. Weren’t. There. That was before you came along, see? Yeah, maybe Andrew would come to get me out, but that’d only be to lock me up himself in another bathroom until I broke and he could build me up again the way he wants it, the way that is easiest to control. I may not know all the fucked-up shit that went down with you and the Ravens, but I know enough. You? You don’t know jack shit. You weren’t there. All you know is your game and vodka and– and– that fake protective side of Andrew you mistake for concern! Believe me, it’s not. It’s not. But as long as your little Exy team works and your ass is protected, you don’t care, and nothing else matters to you. And don’t take this for jealousy! I don’t want Andrew’s attention, God, if I could get rid of it, I would… But Jesus Christ, Kevin! Last night… Last night, I should’ve died. It was their plan, it was Riko’s plan, and it was all your fault. I should be dead, Kevin.”
And I wish I was, Kevin.
But Aaron didn’t say that part out loud.
And it wasn’t because Aaron wanted to die. It wasn’t that Aaron didn’t want to live anymore. He was just… tiredness. Oh, so tired.
Of the life he had, the threats he constantly had to watch out for, the loneliness, the heartache, the weight of it all… If only he had someone, anyone, in his corner…
Aaron doesn’t care for someone who supports him, or encourages him, or loves him. He just wished somebody would be not against him, not fighting him, not hurting him.
But that was a fantasy.
So Aaron held onto anger, hatred and venom.
In the end, their whole lot left the hospital the way they came, only a little more patched up on the outside and a little less on the inside.
Abby and Seth left without a trace before either of the boys could get their hands on each other.
The ride back to Fox Tower was excruciatingly slow and silent, with Kevin riding shotgun and Aaron left alone in the Escape’s backseat.
Aaron didn’t see Kevin’s countless glances in the rear-view mirror. 
Kevin didn’t see Aaron’s numerous glances in the side-view mirror.
Wymack saw it all, and said nothing. Above his paygrade.
Once back in their dorm, that’s when the change really solidified.
In the following weeks, Andrew’s focus shifted more and more towards Neil Josten
Was it a threat assessment? Curiosity? Respect, trust? Or something else?
Aaron didn’t want to know.
Andrew’s attitude towards his twin brother didn’t change, though.
But with Kevin? Andrew was still his protector, still held on to his end of the deal, but… that was it? They weren’t friends before, but they could have been. They were on their way there. Now there was nothing to build upon. Kevin mistook this for payback for putting Aaron in danger.  Aaron mistook this for newfound interest in a shinier toy (fucking Josten). Neil mistook this for an aggressive investigation of his person. Andrew didn’t stop to think twice about his actions, as usual
(But maybe, just maybe, Andrew couldn’t bear, at least for a while, the thought of being close to Aaron and Kevin if they could be snatched away in an instant, and while he could watch over them form afar, Josten provided a much needed and pretty distraction from those intruding thoughts…)
So as Andrew focused more and more on Neil, and as Nicky continued to be oblivious to the danger they’d all faced and wandered from social group to social group, Aaron and Kevin got stuck together. Aaron didn’t want to leave the dorm outside his classes, for obvious reasons, and Kevin limited his outings to when Andrew was present, for obvious reasons as well. Kevin continued to drink, and Aaron continued to stay awake until the early hours of the day. They communicated in one-word sentences.
“Class.”
“Practice.”
“Shower.”
“Vodka.”
“Fuck off.”
“Wow, two words.”
“Shithead.”
“Jackass.”
“Shut up.”
“Just because you say it quickly doesn’t mean it isn’t still two words, Aaron.”
“Ugh.”
“Now that’s not even a word.”
“Fine. You wanna hear some words? Here are some words: I. Will. Fucking. End. You.”
“Wowwww. That’s, like… so many words… ’M proud of you.”
But they lived best in silence.
Like when Kevin passed out cold on their couch and Aaron found that watching over him was better than sprouting dark and slippery spiderwebs in his head.
Like when Aaron passed out on their couch’s arm after a night of watch, towards 4 or 5 am, and Kevin found that looking after him was better than drinking to chase away his nightmares.
Still, between them, Aaron’s words echoed and wounded.
I should be dead.
I should be dead, Kevin.
Dead, dead, dead.
Kevin was familiar with torture.Threats. Knives and bricks and fire. Not death.
He still couldn’t wrap his head around how close Aaron had been to death. How close he still was. How close Kevin himself was, how even closer Jean was back there in the Nest…
And for the first time in his life, looking at Aaron’s sleeping face in the first rays of sunshine, Kevin held on to new words to get him through the days.
No. Riko should be dead.
It was a promise.
It was a war cry.
(read on Ao3 here !)
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wesninski-hatford · 3 years
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Abby’s POV of Neil’s Physical/Her Reaction to His Scars
Abby knew that this new year meant the Foxes all have to do their physicals. David had told her about their new recruit to replace Janie after her attempt. Abby remembered seeing her and a pang of grief went through her heart. She redirected her thoughts to Neil Josten. Nineteen years old, from Millport, Arizona, seemingly abused by parents who no one had seen, and has a reluctance to change out with others.
“His coach told me that his behaviour was off, no sightings of his parents, he slept in the locker room, and the fact that he didn’t want to change out in front of his teammates is the reason he gave me his file. Thought Josten might meet our standards.” David had said.
Abby caught on to what he was implying.
“Are you saying that he might have scars or a tattoo?” She got a similar talk when David recruited Renee.
“Tattoo? No. Scars? Maybe. You might want to do his physical in private, I’m bringing him over to the stadium soon, do it then.” David suggested.
***
She walked in to a restless looking Neil as he got up. “Hey, Neil," Abby said. "You're a little early for the meeting." She didn’t like pretending that she had just run into him, but she didn’t think he’d appreciate her cornering him.
"Coach won't let me into Fox Tower until Matt gets here." She mentally chided David.
"He'll be here before you know it. Since you've got time to spare, we might as well get your physical over with."
"Physical?" The suspicion colouring his tone made her feel the need to explain.
"Just a general check-up: weight, height, all that good stuff. We have to do it today instead of tomorrow because there's blood work involved. I can't let you on the court until you've slept it off. When's the last time you saw a doctor?"
"A long time ago.”
“Don't like doctors?"
"Doctors don't like me. Is it necessary?"
"You're not playing until I sign off on you, so yes. Sometime today, preferably. I've got a lot of you to get through." Her Foxes were a small bunch and she sometimes wondered how the medics of bigger teams handled it.
She decided to change up the order of her tests and put off the track mark check. Soon, though, she was finished and gestured at Neil. "Shirt off."
"Why?"
"I can't check track marks through cotton, Neil." David had told her he was stubborn so the resistance was expected.
"I don't do drugs."
"Good on you," Abby said. "Keep it that way. Now take it off." He just looked away and stayed silent. Abby held back any reactions and was content to wait him out. She didn’t account for Neil being just this reluctant, though and ended up giving in. “I want to make this as painless as possible, but I can't help you if you can't help me. Tell me why you won't take off your shirt.” She and David had their suspicions, but they didn’t actually know and was becoming curious as to why exactly he was being so difficult. He seemed to contemplate his words.
“I'm not okay." Her heart fell. So it was scars.
"Neil, I work for the Foxes. None of you are okay.” She remembered the tattoo that Renee had on her back. “Chances are I've seen a lot worse than whatever it is you're trying to hide from me."
Neil smiled in a small, bitter way and her heart broke further. "I hope not."
"Trust me. I'm not going to judge you. I'm here to help, remember? I'm your nurse now. That door is closed, and it comes with a lock. What happens in here stays in here."
"You won't tell Coach?"
"This isn't his business.” Sort of the truth, but she wasn’t going to tell them that and opted for the same doctor-patient confidentiality talk she gave to Renee. “I only report to him if I think it'll affect your performance on the court or if you're breaking the law and I need an intervention.” He stared at her for a little longer.
“You can't ask me about them. I won't talk to you about it. Okay?"
"Okay, but know that when you want to, I'm here, and so is Betsy.” She prepared herself for whatever scars she might see on Neil’s body thinking that he was just self-conscious. She was wrong. He pulled off his shirt and... and there was no way to describe it. She tried her hardest to hide her reaction to the marks of violence all over this poor boy’s torso. Judging from the flicker of resignation on his face, she failed. These were not the scars that came with the typical abusive household, these told a very different, very harrowing tale. She could do nothing but stare for a while as she took in everything. What else could she do with the scar in the perfect shape of a hot iron, with what seemed like a bullet scar, with the thick lines tracing his abdomen, very clearly from more than a few knives. What else could she do with this boy whose past was filled with trauma and abuse?
Neil’s voice shattered her thoughts. “Do I have track marks?”
“Neil.” She was ready to cry for what had been done to him but he just seemed ready to leave.
“Do I or don’t I?” He stared at her, silently willing her to please just move on. She examined his arms and saw no track marks.
“You can put your shirt back on.” He yanked it on with an enthusiasm she now understood. Even though the scars were covered, she felt like she could still see them behind the cotton of his shirt. She ended up finishing her forms, letting the uneasy silence between them stretch. “We’re done,” she felt she needed to talk to him about the scars covering him “Neil—“
“No.” He practically ran out, leaving her in the Fox’s lounge to properly digest what she had seen. If it had so much of an affect just seeing it... she couldn’t imagine the amount of pain it must have been to actually bear those, to have been injured like that so many times.
***
“Can I discuss Neil’s physical with you in your office?” Abby asked, figuring the others would be fine without David. His eyebrows narrowed, but he agreed and motioned for her to go first.
Once she closed the doors behind her, she sank into one of the chairs, took a deep breath and tried to figure out what she could say about Neil’s scars. “You were right.”
“About?”
“The scars. I don’t know what I can say about it without breaking doctor-patient confidentiality, but... it’s bad. Neil has been through a lot and feel free to let loose on the boys if they ask why he’s so private.”
“Got it.” He seemed to hesitate before asking “Are you okay?”
She saw no point in lying. “No, I don’t think so... do you ever wish you could just hug our Foxes close and keep them safe? Do you ever wish that you could erase what happened to them? I just... the world is so cruel to them. Nothing they’ve ever been through is okay and it’s—God, it’s just so unfair. And I know, I’ve been with them for this long and I should know that ‘fair’ doesn’t exist... but... I wish it did.”
David looked at her for a moment before replying. “No. We’re here to let them build themselves back up, to help our kids who’ve been wronged by getting them back on their feet. The pricks out there have hurt them and tried their damned hardest to break them. We’re giving them a chance to show that they’ve come out of it alive, ready to fight, and stronger than ever.”
She nodded and let his words soak into her heart as she thought about it. She checked the time before letting out a small noise. “It’s almost time for the meeting. We should get going.”
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aftgficrec · 3 years
Note
wowowowow i actually caught u guys open,, are there any fics you know of where kevin is just a dick and we hate him? any good kevin hating fics? heh thanks
This was harder than we expected! Kevin ranges from homophobic to controlling to downright abusive in the fics below, in both post-canon and AU settings. Hope this is satisfactory! Does anyone else have any other suggestions? (I did put a fun comic at the bottom as well.) -F
Kevin’s also not particularly kind in:
‘The Unkindness of Ravens’ here.
‘Find A Way’ here
Neil Loves Dinosaurs series by infernalstars [Rated G/T, 32616 words, 17 Complete Works, Updated 2020]
part 1: Dino Boy [Rated G, 2937 words]
“Did you have a favorite?” Andrew asked.
Neil smiled. “Brachiosaurus.”
“That’s the tall one?”
or in which Andrew Minyard takes his boyfriend, Neil Josten, to a museum to look at dinosaur bones and buys him a stuffed animal.
(tw: ableism, tw: sensory overload, tw: implied/referenced abuse)
part 4: Asking For Help [Rated G, 1501 words]
In which Kevin Day has to shift his perspective on things and he seeks out Neil for help.
(tw: ableism, tw: implied/referenced abuse)
Can't You See Me? by divadrab [Rated M, 19018 words, Incomplete, Updated May 2021]
Abram Day, Kayleigh Day's adoptive son, barely escaped Edgar Allen and the horror that came with it.
He got a new life, changed his name, and became one of the most popular dancers, but too soon, he had to leave the spotlight, finding solace in working from the behind the scenes.
The Foxes needed a new dance instructor, and Kevin Day was the fallen angel between them. 
An AU in which Neil is a dance instructor and the foxes are dancers!
(tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: scars)
Free cigarettes by All_for_the_andreil [Rated T, 6326 words, Complete 2020]
“What are you doing?” He hisses quietly.
“Introducing you to your new crush,” Aaron answer in the same hushed voice.
“He’s not –” But before Andrew can finish, Aaron has already reached Neil and opened his stupid mouth.
“You’re the kid from my math class who sleeps through the whole lesson yet somehow manages to get all the questions right.”
Neil raises an eyebrow at Aaron but then smirks. “That’d be me, yes.”
Highschool au where Neil is the new kid and Andrew is very gay
(tw: blood, tw: homophobia)
Forever by WanderingSpiritCC [Rated T, 8325 words, Complete 2020]
“Did you puke again?” Kevin barks, incredulous from his spot on the couch, when Neil finally leaves the bathroom that morning, “Go to a fucking doctor before it affects your game.”
    Neil simply flipped the other man off on his way into the kitchen. Sidling up to Andrew he accepts the offered donut, hoping to clear out the stomach acid taste. The nausea would go away by practice so why should he?
    “Oh my God, your rubbing off on him,” Kevin continues, this time directing his complaint at Andrew.
    In a similar fashion to Neil, Andrew also flipped off the health nut.
This time a Neil mpreg
(tw: vomiting, tw: abortion mention, tw: mpreg)
knight takes queen by okayantigone [Rated M, 1200 words, Complete 2017, Locked Fic]
Jean is dealing with the shit that went on at the Nest, he really is. Having to do a photo op with Kevin, however, brings up all sorts of ugliness. Luckily, Jeremy is there for him.
(tw: panic attacks, tw: abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced suicide, tw: violence)
Art:
put down the cookies, Kevin by @paradoxolotl [Tumblr, 2021]
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p0tatonoah · 4 years
Text
You want fluff?
Tumblr media
"Tell me again why you’re doing this” 
"Because I'm a decent person?” 
“If you say so…” 
"Shut up. They needed a babysitter, what did you want me to do?" 
"Say no?" 
“Andrew, he's your nephew" 
"Whatever. Im not touching his poop" 
"Very mature”
Aaron and Katelyn had called them earlier, saying they had to go to a hospital function -to do whatever big shot doctors did to get donations- and their babysitter had bailed on them. Little Theo was only a few months old and Neil could tell Aaron looked a little sick when he dropped the baby over. Like Neil and Andrew couldn’t watch a fucking baby. “Huh I took down the fucking mob, I can handle diapers” Neil thought as he stared into Aaron’s suspicious eyes.
That bravado was short lived, though.
“I don’t think that’s how it's done” Andrew said as he oversaw the process of changing a diaper.
“You could stand there judging or you could help me” Neil replied while fighting against those stupid sticky bands, why the fuck did he think he could do this? “Told ya i’m not touching that mess. Good luck with Sir Poops-a-lot”. Neil just rolled his eyes and consider the scene in front of him wishing he had some duck tape to secure the diaper in place.
-
Andrew couldn’t understand what people saw in babies. They were soft and grubby, with big drooling mouths and freakishly tiny fingernails. All they did was eat, sleep and poop, not interesting at all. Sir Fat Cat could do all those things, but at least the cat gifted Neil with roaches, which both pissed Neil off and amused Andrew greatly.
He was watching TV at the couch with Sir, the cat, lying by his head on the armrest and Neil seated with Sir, the baby, next to him on the floor. He listened as Neil tried to explain exy to the kid and even felt some sympathy for the poor child. “Are you trying to bore it to sleep?” He asked. “Stop calling him it. And no, I’m just telling him how awesome exy is. Maybe one day he’ll go pro as his cool uncles” Neil said and then, making a stupid high pitched voice, added “Isn’t that right Theo? Maybe you’ll play defense like your dad, but unlike him you’d actually be good at it”.
And that’s when Theo started crying.
-
Neil tried everything. He walked around the room, he sang little tunes, he swayed softly cradling Theo on his chest, and nothing. The kid was turning red and Neil was slowly freaking out. “Have you fed it?” Drew asked from the couch. "Of course” Andrew raised an eyebrow as if in question and Neil continued “I gave him a bottle a while ago”. Andrew’s eyebrow shot higher. “It's been a few hours…” Neil concluded and Andrew finally spoke “It’s not a cat. You have to feed it more than once a day, Josten”. He got up and went to the kitchen, huffing out a breath like he always did when he couldn’t believe Neil had lived this long.
-
When he returned with the bottle, Andrew’s ears were ringing. How did such a small thing have such powerful lungs he didn’t know. He handed the bottle to Neil, but as his boyfriend held it by the baby’s mouth, Theo continued to cry. God, that sound was making him crazy. “Hey, Sir Poops-a-lot, look at me. If you don’t stop crying, I’ll hang you out the window by the diaper” and the little fucker stoped. Drew smiled at himself, proud of having efficiently threatened an infant. But as he walked away, the crying returned, full force. “I think he likes your voice”. “No, he likes Aaron's voice” Andrew realized. “Ok, here’s what we gonna do” he addressed the little bundle of snotty tears “you gonna drink your milk, and then you’ll sleep and give uncle Andrew some peace and quiet”.
-
Neil watched, amazed, as Andrew’s voice worked its magic. Drew could lie to himself all he wanted, but he sounded nothing like Aaron. Neil managed to feed Theo and burp him, but only because Andrew didn’t leave his side and kept talking about random stuff like: how he thought King Flufkins and Sir were plotting his murder or what he thought aliens actually looked like. Theo watched him with big eyes and once he had predictably covered Neil’s shoulders in barf, reached across to Andrew with his little arms.
“He wan…”
“Nope” Andrew interrupted.
Neil wouldn’t press, but Theo started to cry at the rejection and that broke his heart. “Seriously, Drew? It's just a kid” “ Abe, I… I’ll drop it” and that was such a ridiculous answer it made Neil laugh “You won’t” and then when he saw the doubt in Andrew’s eyes, he added “I'll be here, I won’t let you drop him”. There was the slightest nod and Neil handed over the crying child. At first Andrew looked panicked, holding Theo at arms length like he was a week-old laundry pile. So Neil rested a hand at the back of Andrew’s neck massaging it gently and watched as he carefully moved the baby closer, holding him against his chest and… smiling. Neil was about to say something when Andrew looked at him “You stink”.
**
As Neil returned from the bedroom with a clean shirt, he stopped by the door looking at the scene in front of him. Andrew laid down on the couch, King at his feet, Sir -as usual- lying by his head and little Theo resting on his chest, sleeping, like he was always meant to be there.
And it was Neil’s turn to smile.
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philliamwrites · 3 years
Text
Ocean Eyes, Golden Mind
Fandom: All For The Game (Nora Sakavic)
Pairing: Neil/Andrew
Tags: #math nerd neil, #neil with glasses, #no exy
Summary: In which Neil hates his new prescribed glasses until they attract the interest of a certain Andrew Minyard.
Commissioner: Ziegenkind
Notes: Title taken from Billie Eilish’s ‘Ocean Eyes.’
Ocean Eyes, Golden Mind
Dude, it’s just a frat party. Who doesn’t go to frat parties?
     The message flashes Neil’s screen white, its sender none other than his roommate Nicky who is supposed to study for an upcoming test in Public Policy in exactly nineteen hours. That’s what Neil writes him. Nicky’s reply comes instantly.
Those who study tend not to party. You know. Like you.
     Neil leaves him on read. If he wants to party, he’ll lock himself inside his room, two bottles of Jack Daniel’s by his side while watching every existing compilation of cats attacking people on the small screen of his phone. He knows how to have a good time, alright. Not everyone has to set their scale like Nicky: More than once Neil has been the spectator of him coming back to the dormitory completely wasted, but still eager enough to get frozen waffles from the fridge. Being too drunk to put them in the toaster, he usually just climbs up to his top bunk and puts them between his thighs to eat them partially defrosted. It’s this fragile line between genius and stupidity that has Neil doubting if he should fill in a request for changing roommates or just live with the fact that Nicky Hemmick is one special kind of man.
    So instead of spending his night curled into himself, wall against his back and eyes on every stranger distributing awful shots, Neil sits at the Math Tutoring Centre on the west side of the campus and gives group tutoring sessions.
    Math comes to Neil like breathing. Like Bertrand Russel said, not only does Mathematics possess truth, but supreme beauty—a beauty cold and austere, like that of a sculpture. It is sublimely pure, and capable of a stern perfection such as only the greatest art can show. It is poetry—elegant and deep—of logical ideas to create harmony in a written line. Once he tried to explain that to Nicky over microwaved Mac n Cheese with Girls running in the background, clearly overestimating him, because Nicky only stared into space for a few seconds, and replied, “You really need to get laid, man.”
    Reluctant at the beginning, Neil only agreed to join the Tutor Program because his math professor promised to throw in some extra cash. Something about raising the graduate numbers in order to get the board of education off his back. That’s where Neil’s jurisdiction of interest ends, but he has enjoyed it more than expected—the empty hallways, the harsh light of the ceiling lamps, the smell of chalk, the faint echoes of students still lingering in classrooms. There’s this magic about the Palmetto State University at night—a vulnerability that can only live once the sun sets behind the horizon. When else would he find a kid sleeping under a table in the library, or seniors breaking down in tears for exact 10 minutes before continuing their studies as if nothing has happened.
    There’s another reason he’d rather spend his evening on campus, one Nicky doesn’t need to know because then Neil won’t hear the end of it. That reason being 5’0’’ tall chemistry prodigy Andrew Minyard, sitting in the last row of Neil’s math sessions each Friday. He only knows about him thanks to Nicky’s never-ending complaints, but that never really stopped him from throwing a few or more glances in Andrew’s direction. Just curiosity, of course.
    So when he stands in front of the blackboard now, putting away his lesson papers which are full of numbers and equations—the kind that has enough letters to look like sentences—he feels dozens eyes burn holes in the back of his neck, and one pair belongs to Andrew. No one asks why he’s here, but everyone knows he doesn’t need to be.
    In his one year of giving tutoring sessions, Neil has learnt that exactly three types of students exist: Students who are really good, certainly not in need of the extra lessons, but going anyway for some extra ego-buff and unnecessary brain-flexing. The second type is students who are okay, doing their tasks, following the lesson, not really attracting any attention safe for some crude jokes. The last type has Neil questioning his belief in the educational system of the whole state because he doesn’t understand how they are allowed inside the sacred halls of PSU.
    Andrew is a special type on his own—the enigma that keeps Neil awake at two in the morning because he’s desperate to solve it, but without knowing where to start, he’s just running in circles. His fingers itch to solve an equation with multiple variables, to find the solution to a problem and get it off his mind.
    He doubts it will be this easy with Andrew.
    “Before we continue to look at scalar products in R- and C-vector spaces, we’ll consider bilinear and semi-bilinear forms in general, and link them to matrices for their representation to chosen bases.” Neil’s hand flies across the board, leaving letters and parenthesizes that look like bizarre drawings—art in its most complex form. Once he’s finished, he takes a step away, wipes the chalk on his fingers off on his jeans, and turns to his audience. “What happens to this equation with the semi-bilinear form σ?”
    Two hands shoot up immediately. He ignores them; no need to feed their ego, and instead picks a freshman who’s been staring at his phone for the last ten minutes. Making way, Neil moves back to the student’s seats and leans against a desk.
    Is it the farthest place away from the board? It is.
    Is it the closest that will get him to Andrew? Might be so.
    It certainly gives him a good look at what Andrew’s been doing since Neil started—and that is not solving a single task on the paper Neil has handed out at the beginning of the session. Andrew, apparently bored before it even started, has taken out a slip of paper with a sudoku puzzle on it and is solving it against his leg, completely linked out of the instruction.
    Neil tries not to stare too much at Andrew’s bare arms, and instead looks back at the board.
    “Does that look right?” the freshman—Rhys or Rheeze or something like that—asks, turning around.
    Neil narrows his eyes and squints at the board. He can’t make out a single thing, and that’s bad, yes, but his feet betray him, staying rooted where they are instead of reducing the distance until he can distinguish σ from a.
    “Where does the l come from,” he asks. Multiple heads snap in his direction.
    “That’s a j, Josten,” someone says from the other side of the room.
    Neil squints harder. “And the u?”
    “A μ.”
    “No, it’s a v,” a girl next to Neil says, and that’s when the everyone starts shouting about what’s on the board and what isn’t.
    Neil bears it for a solid minute before he surrenders. He pulls a small case from his pocket, opens it. Puts his glasses on.
    The whole room goes silent.
    Neil checks the equation, nods. “Correct. Who’s next?”
    Multiple people stir, one manages to get up, and walks straight into a table leg. Neil questions that ‘straight’, because only then the freshman guy stops staring at Neil and steers his attention to the equation on the blackboard.
    It was a bad idea, and Neil still hates Allison for forcing him to go. She’d dragged him to the doctor last week to get his eyes tested, annoyed by his never-ending questions of ‘What’s written there?’ or ‘Is that a six or an eight?’.
    “They’re my eyes,” Neil had said, arms crossed as he sat in the office and waited for his turn.
    “And it’s me who has to see your ugly squinting face,” Allison had replied.
    Two hours later Neil had finally his prescriptions but that didn’t mean he was free from Allison’s clutches. He would have been fine with some glasses from the dollar store, but she insisted that if he’s going to wear them more than once a day, he should get designer glasses—thin frames and a color that matches his copper hair. She suggested gold. Neil picked black. The look of disappointment on Allison’s face was something that deserved its own painting to commemorate it. But once they’d finally chosen the right pair, she’d given him the very same look most of the students are giving him now—a mix between slight awe and disbelief as if he’s grown a second head. Or owes them all a month’s worth of lunch money.
    “Well,” had Allison said at least, turning away to pack up and go home. “Tigers have their stripes. I have my eyeliner.” She threw him another scrutinizing look over her shoulder. “You have your glasses.” If it was supposed to make him feel better, it didn’t work, and right now he regrets nothing more than allowing Allison to drag him around.
    Neil’s eyes land on Andrew’s sudoku puzzle, now half-hidden under his papers, and he sees now that he isn’t even solving the thing, but simply coloring in the empty squares.
    He takes a second too long and meets Andrew’s eyes staring back at him.
    “Problem, Josten?” Andrew asks with a blank expression, tapping the end of his pen against his monochrome picture of black and white squares.
    Neil wants to see how far he can push until he walks against a brick wall and breaks something. He returns his gaze to the board but feels Andrew’s eyes like a solid touch on the back of his neck.
    After the session, the students hurry outside, still throwing curious glances over their shoulders at Neil and if he could merge with the back of his chair and disappear forever, that would be totally okay. It isn’t until a shadow looms above him that he looks up from his own homework and draws in a careful breath when Andrew towers above him.
    Neil raises an eyebrow. “Problem, Minyard?”
    Andrew’s face gives nothing away, and when he stretches out a hand, Neil doesn’t flinch. His glasses slip off easily, held between Andrew’s thumb and index finger.
    “Nicky told me he’s trying to convince you to join him tomorrow,” Andrew says. Neil needs a second, because that is the most words he’s heard out of Andrew’s mouth.
    “I have no reason to go,” Neil says, his eyes jumping up and down, from the equation that makes his sight blur to Andrew leaning his slender waist against the table.
    “You have one now.” It’s barely neutral enough to not sound like a threat, but Neil stares at Andrew nonetheless, and when he puts Neil’s glasses on, Neil’s heart does a weird stutter. He’s still starring at Andrew when he leaves the room, and no, his eyes don’t stray, they stay on Andrew’s broad back, and if they dip lower it’s because of the light.
    Once he’s alone, Neil takes a deep breath, exhales slowly. Puts his head in his arms and counts to ten in French first, then again in German. His heart still does this weird thing, trying to bruise his ribs from the inside.
    He gets his phone, texts Nicky he’ll go to the frat party tomorrow and puts it away, not interested in his roommate’s reply. There’s still the equation he needs to solve, but for the first time Neil’s heart isn’t really into math, and he is quite alright with it.
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psych0midget · 4 years
Text
No but imagine Aaron’s life after he graduates from PSU. He goes to med school hoping he finally gets to leave exy behind, but NO. NO. What was he even expecting?
He was a Fox and the Foxes had made headlines when they’d won championship during Aaron’s sophomore year.
He himself had made headlines when he’d killed Drake.
And then there was Josten. Josten who had been kidnapped by his father and people had found out the Foxes starting striker was the son of a mobster.
Aaron just wanted a normal life, he hadn’t realised that being one of the Foxes had made him kind of famous.
His first week at med school went like this:
No, I’m not Andrew.
Thank god no I can’t read Andrew’s mind even if he’s my twin, that’s just bullshit.
Yes, winning championship twice was great.
No, I can’t get you Andrew’s autograph.
Let alone Josten’s.
No, I won’t give you Reynolds’ number. She has a girlfriend. No, she won’t change her mind when she sees your ugly mug, trust me.
Flattery will get you nowhere, I won’t teach you exy.
Yes, I can give you Kevin’s number, please do text him 24/7, I’m sure he’ll love it.
Things probably get even worse when Aaron becomes a doctor and Andrew wins gold at the Olympics.
Like image his patients *recognising* him. But not really him. Like he’s the brother of that famous exy player you know? The blond one? Yes, that one. Dr. Minyard is the brother of an Olympic medalist, how cool is that!
No, not cool at all. Aaron might be one of the most renowned neurologists in the world but he will always be Andrew Minyard’s brother first.
Not that Aaron really cares, he’ll never admit it out loud but he’s proud of his brother - he just wishes his patients would stop asking him how his brother is doing, who he thinks will win championship this year and exy exy exy exy.
Aaron had been a decent backliner in college but he wanted nothing to do with exy anymore. He was a neurologist, for fuck’s sake.
Things probably escalate when Andrew and Neil get public with their relationship. Or rather, they do not get public, they just stop hiding the fact that they got married something like 5 years earlier.
That’s when some of his patients’ comments get really obnoxious and intrusive.
Aaron himself had plenty to say about Andrew and Josten’s relationship, he still kind of hates Josten, but he’s good for his brother - Aaron can *see* that.
He doesn’t even feel guilty when he ends up punching one of his patients after a particularly homophobic remark. (He doesn’t make headlines AGAIN just because the wife of his patient says that Aaron was right and he should’ve punched her husband harder.)
Or imagine all the little kids Aaron visits, imagine their faces when they see that their doctor is ANDREW MINYARD, the best goalkeeper in the world.
Aaron doesn’t have the heart to tell them he’s not Andrew and so he goes along with it. He still remembers Tilda NOT being there when Aaron had gotten a concussion in third grade. He’d do anything to help his little patients feel better.
He probably gets both his brother and Josten to sign a stack of papers so he can give their authographs to children when they are finally written off.
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K.O.
AO3 just because :D
“Stop hovering.”
“Make me.”
“110%.”
“Bitch all you want, I wasn’t taken out by a 275 pound backliner running too fast to stop.”
“He barely grazed me.”
“You blacked out.”
Andrew waved an unconcerned hand, leaning against the wall as Neil unlocked the door to their dorm. He had refused help when they left the hospital, even when he stumbled a bit walking out of the entrance, and he wasn’t about to start now. Even if the wall felt really nice. He could just close his eyes for a few minutes.
“Andrew!”
He jerked away, reaching out absentmindedly for Neil’s shoulder to steady himself, and glared at the boy in question when he gave him a smug smile. “You are fucking pushing it, Josten.”
“Oh, cry me a river,” Neil retorted and shoved the door open. “Are you okay getting to the couch or do you need my help?”
Andrew scoffed, dropping his hand from Neil’s shoulder, and headed towards the couch by himself. He slapped Kevin’s foot when he settled onto the cushions, his stomach rebelling against him when Kevin jerked away and sat up quickly.
“The fuck?” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.
Andrew wanted to tell him he was hogging the couch, but he had a feeling if he tried opening his mouth right now tonight’s dinner was going to make a second appearance. Something nudged his arm, and he looked up to see Neil offering him the tiny trash can they used in the kitchenette.
Andrew scowled.
“You going to clean up the couch if you puke on it?” Neil shot back stubbornly.
Andrew rolled his eyes but took the trash can, setting it by his feet. Neil nodded, heading back towards the fridge, and returned with a bottle of water and the anti-nausea pills the doctor gave them.
He squinted at the label and Andrew almost offered him his reading glasses, but he decided against it. Neil pissed him off, he didn’t deserve his reading glasses.
“You going to be able to practice on Monday?” Kevin asked and drew back when Andrew and Neil gave him matching glares. “Jesus, I just asked. You two spend too much time around each other.” He stood up, rubbing the back of his head, and headed towards their room, muttering inaudibly under his breath.
“Alright.” Neil nodded, shaking out a pill. He offered it to Andrew, along with the water, jiggling his hand when he refused to take it.
“I can take care of myself,” Andrew said with a frown.
“Yeah, but I’m here so take the damn pill.”
“Would you?”
Neil sighed, hanging his head. “Can we not do this?”
“If this were you, would you take the pill?”
“I mean, probably. If you were offering then yeah.” He shook his hand again. “Can you just take this for me?”
Andrew sighed but reached up, letting Neil drop the pill into his hand. He popped it into his mouth, cracking the water open and taking a swig, and tilted his head back to get the pill to slide down his throat.
“Was that so hard?” Neil tossed the rest of the medication onto the counter, snorting with Andrew flipped him off. “That’s mature.”
“Bite me, Neil.”
“Maybe later.”
Neil hovered over Andrew, fidgeting and chewing on his bottom lip. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words kept getting caught in his throat. Andrew gave him ten seconds before he sighed and said, “Spit it out.”
“I thought he killed you,” Neil admitted, looking down at his feet. “When he slammed into you, I swear I heard your head hit the goal and I was on the other end of the field.”
“Okay, Mister Bionic Ears.”
“Andrew...”
“Look, Josten I went to the hospital because you insisted. I let the damn doctor poke and prod at me because you asked. I did the scans and I was given a relatively clean bill of health all because of you.”
“I know.”
“I’m not dying,” Andrew said deadpan. “I just want to go to sleep, and I can’t do that if you’re standing over me.”
“Okay.” Neil shuffled his feet for a few more seconds before sighing and saying, “I’ll just leave you alone.”
“I never said that,” Andrew grumbled testily.
“Then what do you want?”
He gestured to the spot next to him, waiting for Neil to get the hint. It took a few tense seconds before Neil warily settled down onto the couch next to Andrew. He sat stiffly, hands curled into fists in his lap, and he kept staring at Andrew like he was going to collapsed at any moment.
With a frustrated breath, Andrew said, “Yes or no?”
“What?”
“Yes or no?”
He hesitated for a second before saying, “Yes.”
Andrew grabbed his right hand, uncurling his fingers and pressing them to the side of his neck. His pulse beat steadily against Neil’s fingers, a reminder that he was still alive.
“I get you’re not dying,” Neil snapped curling his fingers around Andrew’s neck. He brought his other hand up, fingers hovering over the purple bruise around his eye. “I just...” he drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
Andrew narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t do this.”
“Not for...” He cupped Andrew’s cheek, leaning forward until his hair brushes Andrew's forehead. “Is this how you feel? When I get hurt? Does it feel like you’ve been stabbed in the chest repeatedly?”
“Neil...”
“No, listen. You’re right, I deflect and I hide how I’m feeling, and I’m trying to be better about that, but I watched that guy plow into you, full speed, and you didn’t get back up right away. You didn’t get back up, and it reminded me that...” he sighed. “It reminded me that we’re not invincible, Andrew. None of us are, and one day one of us is going to get hit and we’re not going to get back up.”
Andrew was silent for a beat, stomach twisting in a way that had nothing to do with his concussion. He scoffed and said, “It took me getting knocked down for you to come to that realization.”
“I mean yeah...”
“Oh my god.” He shook his head, shrugging off Neil’s hands. His head hurt, he was tired, and he just wanted to go to sleep. He laid down, carefully moving around until his head was in Neil’s lap, and said, “Don’t talk to me for the rest of the night.”
“Andrew...”
“Shh.”
Neil hesitated for a moment before burying his fingers into Andrew’s hair. For a while neither one said a word, but Neil broke the silence by saying, “Yes or no?”
“I thought I said don’t talk to me.”
“I know, but yes or no?”
Andrew almost said no, but he was intrigued enough to nod.
Neil nodded back and leaned over, gently kissing the bruise on Andrew’s head. He sat up again, twirling a piece of Andrew’s hair around his finger, leaning his head back into the cushions and staring at the blank TV screen.
Andrew huffed. “144%.”
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Note
Some Minyard-Josten rivalry plus softness fic please!
Ask and ye shall recieve (well, recieve slowly). I loved writing this but you shall be the judge of whether or not it’s any good. I’ll be adding my tag list down below and if someone has more propmts, here is my ask box.
On with the show!
They were on their last game of the season and Neil was both happy and sad about it, because while it was off season, he got lazy mornings with that cats and late night drives in the Maserati. But this also meant no Exy except for training and Kevin phoning constantly to make sure he was eating properly. He’d had enough it during college and would always contemplate murder whenever he was asked, “Have you seen the new meal plan I sent you?” It was fucking annoying.
It was the last few minutes of the game and his legs were ready to give out on him. It had been a brutal game since the first buzzer sounded, and now, defence was beginning to border on the line of illegal marking and ramming strikes into the plexi-glass.
Andrew was on the opposite team and was in goal for the last quarter, meaning Neil would not be getting in any more than two goals unless he tried hard enough. They had agreed that neither of them would go easy on the other when they played court together. It had been almost two years since he had left college and three since Andrew had, however, they couldn’t play on the same team yet because Andrew still had a year left on his contract with no way out of it. Long distance was hard but they made it work. But there was also another thing that helped to ease the pain of not being near each other 24/7.
The Minyard-Josten rivalry.
A fan had started it not long after Neil had joined a professional team and it had been top most thing talked about in Exy since. Neither of the two would confirm nor deny that it was a real thing but they also liked to add to the drama now and then. One of them would call out the other on twitter or make it seem like they were shouting at each other in Russian on court, which was great because everyone thought they were insults, yet they were only asking each other very domestic couple things.
Did you feed those idiot cats this morning?
What ice cream do you want this weekend when I come over?
I made space in a draw for you; it’s easier than bringing a whole duffel bag each time. You did? It’s for convenience junkie, now shut up.
But there was always one that broke Andrew’s composure slightly, causing him to flip Neil off or throw the ball at his legs.
Remember that time you had me on my knees in the locker room?
They were always asked questions after games and people would sometimes try to stop them in the streets, but they only ever got blank looks in return.
Neil had just got close enough to the goal now to try and take a shot but Andrew blocked it with ease, which made Neil shout something ridiculous about what take out they were having. Apparently though, one of the newer backliners on Andrews’s team didn’t take too kindly to supposed verbal abuse against his team mates. He vaguely remembered them ‘Jeffords’ before he was body checked so hard he lost his helmet and his vision when black for a few seconds. Or maybe it was longer because the next thing he knew, he was being lifted onto a stretcher by paramedics, and Andrew was a quiet yet angry force to his left.
“I’m going with him. Try to stop me and I’ll stab you.”
None of them knew Andrew well enough, which meant they didn’t realise how real that threat was. People were protesting saying that they weren’t even team mates so why should he and that there was still a game to play. He knew there was only so much more Andrew would take before violence ensued and he tried, yet failed, to make him calm down.
“Drew, m’fine. It’s o-okay.” He said while reaching out with one hand but he didn’t know how well that worked as everything was still very hazy in his mind. He felt like he wasn’t in control which didn’t help things, because whenever he felt like that, panic attacks happened. Noticing this, Andrew seemed to have had enough with all the objections and people standing in his way.
Pulling off his gloves, reached into his jersey and yanked out a chain. A chain which Neil knew held a small gold band engraved with ‘Abram’ on the inside. After everyone one realised what he was trying to show them he said;
“He is my husband. I have every right to go to that hospital with him, your fucking game be damned. Now move out of my way or more of you will be joining us.”
Neil had blacked out again before he could see the shock on everyone’s faces.
oOoOo
When he woke again, he was in a very white room, dressed in a stupid hospital gown, and there was annoying monitor beeping in his ear. Neil groaned slightly, trying to sit up, when a hand took a hold of one of his own and another rested on the back of his neck.
“Easy junkie, you have a bad concussion and some bruised ribs. The docs want you to stay for the night for observation.”
Turning his head to look at Andrew, he noticed the furrowed brow and tense set of his jaw and raised a hand to his cheek, not actually touching until he was given a nod to do so. Andrew leaned into the touch slightly and Neil moved his thumb to trace his cheekbone.
“Are you alright, Drew?”
The question earned him a very displeased scoff.
“You were the one rammed into a wall by a guy the size of Boyd, yet you’re asking me how I am? Your idiocy knows no bounds.”
Reaching up, he took the hand that was on his neck down into his lap and rubbed at the gold band there. He knew there was more that Andrew wanted to say but didn’t know how just yet, so he waited. There was a ragged breath before he continued.
“Your helmet came off and you weren’t moving, but I couldn’t get to you. By the time I pushed through everyone, I could hear the medics calling for an ambulance.” His voice went shaky while he tried to say the next bit and he started playing with Neil’s ring in return, “wh-when you blacked out again, the paramedics looked panicked. I kept asking what was wrong but they wouldn’t say anything. The doctors said it wasn’t bad when we got here, but I thought-“
He cut himself off then and turned his face away, but Neil didn’t want him to start bottling everything up. They didn’t do that anymore, so, he brought Andrew’s hand to his face and began kissing his palm which usually helped to calm him down. When he turned back to him, Neil whispered gently, “You thought what? You can tell me.”
“I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”
Hearing the fear in his voice broke something in Neil, so he patted the small space beside him on the bed, not knowing what to say just yet. Andrew climbed up to lay next to him, albeit slowly and careful of his injuries. When they were finally lying down face to face, Neil cupped his cheek in his palm again, while Andrew fisted his hands in the front of the awful coloured gown.
“I love you, Andrew Minyard-Josten. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”
He was pulled impossibly closer at that, so close that he could feel his husband’s breath on his nose.
“Don’t you dare scare me like that again, ever.”
There was no way he could promise that, so he simply just nodded, content to going back to sleep with Andrew in his arms.
He could feel that heavy weight pulling him under, but just before he let it have him, he heard a quiet mumbling above him of what he thought were the best words to ever be spoken.
“I love you too, Neil Minyard-Josten. Idiot.”
Tags: @junkiejosten10 @oreosndscones @koholania @skunked-up-kicks @shutuptheooo @hannahoftheinternet @palmettofoxesthings @jostenlovesminyard @fangirl0503 @stop-breathing-its-annoying @incorrect-the-foxhole-court @intoomanyfandomsstuff @imstupidremember @fancyclodpaintercookie
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captain-danwilds · 3 years
Text
Too Broken for A Fox: Janie Smalls
I know I have a bad habit of falling for minor characters, but my heart just aches for Janie Smalls. It’s probably because she’s the Fox with the trauma most similar to mine that even though we know next to nothing about her, I have lots of feelings about Janie Smalls. (And yeah there’s potentially triggering things so mind the tags. Recovery Focus, but still proceed with caution)
It’s easy for her teammates to think everything’s fine.
Their captain is going to be playing for a division 1 school.
It’s Palmetto so only barely division 1, but still.
Janie actually smiles when Coach Wilmer announces the recruitment to them.
And they can count the number of times she’s smiled on one hand.
But even as Janie prepares for graduation, prepares for the life she’s worked for since she was eight and first picked up a racket, she knows she’s not fine.
It starts slowly at first.
Picking scabs before they’re healed, pressing bruises, driving less cautiously, rubbing the scars on her thigh from sophomore year.
She knows she should be happy. She’s got everything she could ever hope for.
But that’s it really, what is supposed to happen now? What happens when you’ve spent half your life working to get to this point (and the other half not believing you’d live this long anyway?)
The future is vast and intimidating.
“But it’s happy change.” Her mother whispers as she’s smooths down Janie’s hair. “Aren’t you excited?”
The pit growing in her stomach doesn’t feel like excitement.
Exy is an escape.
It’s always been an escape.
The Fairview Royals have been how she outran her troubles, outlived the thoughts in her head.  
Because if she can just keep scoring, she’s worth something.
But then the season ends and she’s no longer a Royal and not yet a Fox.  
Then they find her bleeding.
And she’s too broken to be a Fox.
Too broken to do anything really.  Because what does she have left if she doesn’t have Exy?  
The team sends a card and Janie only barely resists tearing it to shreds. 
She rolls her eyes at the goal keeper’s pretty words about how Janie will get through this, but she adds Renee’s number to her phone anyway.  
There’s a sick sort of joy in the pit of her stomach when she hears about Seth Gordon’s overdose.
She isn’t the only one who couldn’t handle it, handle living.
I mean objectively she knows. It’s not like she was in the hospital alone, didn’t attend group therapy alone.
But this is different.
Her suicide attempt had been called typical of a Fox on every platform that followed College Exy (and quite a few that didn’t.)
Seth’s death completely overshadows it.
She wasn’t really a Fox yet. He played for four years.
Janie’s no longer the face of too broken to make it.
She should probably hate Neil Josten for taking her spot.
For coming out of nowhere, Arizona with one year of experience on a team that didn’t even make playoffs, and taking her spot.
Her therapist thinks she’s being very mature that she doesn’t.
It’s easy to shrug the complement away. It’s not like she can use it when she hasn’t been allowed on a court in months.
But she sees herself in how Josten plays.
In those moments she steals when the nurses think she isn’t there to watch games in case it triggers her.   
They have very different styles, his built on speed and instinct, hers on precision.
It’s the desperation that ties them together.
The way the court is the only thing that seems worth living for.
The slight madness in his eyes that says I play Exy or I’m nothing.
She’s nothing now.
But she’s learning how to be something.
Even if it makes her feel like she’s breaking apart all over again.
Still she sits in therapy, colors an almost comical amount of pictures, blows bubbles just to be able to destroy something that isn’t herself.
And things get better.
When the foxes make the spring playoff season, she smiles a genuine smile that makes one of her favorite nurse’s cry.  
After she’s out of the hospital and the constant vigilance of her mother’s concerned eyes, Janie goes back to her high school Exy court.  
One of the younger players lets her in after practice and doesn’t ask too many questions.  
She just sits in the middle of the court.  There’s no one around, but the memory of the sheer energy on game day is enough.  
It’s not the first time Janie cries about exy and it won’t be the last, but there’s no longer a jaded feeling in the pit of her stomach.  
She wants to be better, to live, and that’s so much bigger than just Exy.  
Janie has other things to live for now. Things that make her heart jump more than scoring on a particular skilled opponent.  
But she still loves Exy.
So Janie picks up her racket again and bounces the ball off of the Rec Center wall between therapy sessions.  
As she lifts weights or goes on runs, Janie tells herself it’s because the doctors recommended it, not because she feels the need to whip her body back into shape after months of trying to only get through the day even if that meant never leaving bed.
She just wants to feel like her body’s her own again. 
And her body, the small voice in Janie’s head whispers, is meant to carry her through an Exy game and shove away even the largest of backliners.  
Her friends and parents purposely avoid talking about the Foxes even as the new rookie causes trouble left and right or Kevin Day nonchalantly creates the largest conspiracy the sport has ever seen.  They don’t know she has all their news alerts set up on her phone. 
When the Foxes make the finals, Janie is the one to announce it to them by covering the house in an obnoxious amount of orange paper paw prints.   
And when they win, she cries.  
Maybe they think that she’s mourning the fact that she should have been there, should have been part of the underdog team that finally brought the Ravens down.  
But she isn’t.  
It’s more the fact that they did it.  The foxes beat the unbeatable.  
And for the first time in forever, Janie Smalls feels like a Fox. 
Her victory isn’t touted over the news, isn’t the topic of podcasts and already slated to be next decade’s feel good sports movie. 
But Janie’s alive and she’s determined to be for a long time. And for a long time, that felt unimaginable.  
Janie calls Renee to offer her congratulations.  Even after all this time, she kept the number.  It’s a small thing, showing joy for the girl who had faith in her when few did.  
Janie doesn’t expect their conversation to mean much.  
Doesn’t expect it to continue for months. 
Or for Renee to casually slip in how the ERC expects Coach Wymack to drastically increase the size of the team.  
It feels like a sign Janie didn’t even know she was waiting for.  
She doesn’t tell Renee when she films a practice session with her best friend and sends it in with doctor’s notes.  
Or the voicemail she leaves in the middle of the night on Wymack’s phone because she doesn’t think she can state her case if he’s actually listening in real time. 
“You wanted me once.  And I’ve only gotten better since then.  You’d be a fool to pass me over now Coach.”  
Maybe she’s convincing.  Maybe they’re desperate. 
Maybe it’s just because Coach Wymack believes in giving more chances than what anyone else wanted to give you. 
But the following year, Janie Smalls is officially a Fox.  
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farawaysoph-ie · 4 years
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The Raven King Incoherent Whatever
Yes it's me again I decided to go for a 1 list/1 book solution. Also this is the one that HURT. Again looooooooots of spoilers v.v
I'll state, here at the beginning, that Coach knew, just by looking at where Neil was sitting at the beginning of this one, HE KNEW.
Neil I-have-an-attitude-problem-no-i-won't-talk-to-a-therapist Josten
His relationship with his mother killed me, because yes she ran to save them, but she abused him for years, he had to bury her etc, now alcohol and cigarette smoke are all he has left, complicated doesn't even start to describe all that is wrong here
The look Neil has everytime someone does something nice for him at this point of the story
"Why did you pay for stall, Coach?" "Maybe I knew you'd need them one day."
Yeah Coach I didn't need my heart
Andrew going on the court sober
The whole Neil's sexuality thing? Like he said he doesn't swing, stop aking and betting (as if they would)
Andrew buying him clothes (and a phone)
Flash news: Neil doesn't deal well with phones
"I'm remembering why I don't like you." "I'm surprised you forgot in the first place."
The dinners with the other teams were always a delight
"What the hell is this?""His antagonism is a personality flaw we're learning to live with."
It just did things to me that Neil scared-life-on-the-run Josten refused EVERY TIME to let others call him property or treat him like a purchase
"Do as I say, not as I do, rookie" #QUEEN
Nathaniel, it has been so long
F*** you, Riko, sincerely everyone
"When I first said you would be Court, why were you upset with me?" "Because I knew it'd never happen, but I wanted it anyway."
"That's Andrew for you: making sense since never."
Guess what guys??
Thing#37483762 that I love about Neil: he doesn't really judge, and that's why most of the times he knows what's going on and he understands
"You can love Exy all you want, but it's never gonna love you back."
"Why don't you like girls?" Nicky looked startled by the interruption, but he rallied quickly and made a face. "They're so soft." Neil thought about Renee's bruised knuckles, Dan's fierce spirit, and Allison holding her ground on the court a week after Seth's death. He thought about his mother standing unflinching in the face of his father's violent anger and her ruthlessly leaving bodies in their wake. He felt compelled to say, "Some of the strongest people I've known are women." "What? Oh, no," Nicky hurried to say. "I mean literally soft. Too many curves, see?"
They are so precious
Also Neil various "I asked"
"Then why can I know?""Perhaps he knows you won't use it against him"
"I wouldn't crush your birthday party if it wasn't important"
"He said it was a misunderstanding."
See here I died, because like Neil I was putting everything together, and it was killing me because everyone treated Andrew like the strong one, the protector, so who protects/protected Andrew? T.T
"Why are you so special?" again Matt always asked the right questions
But since Neil doesn't know that love exists, he had the right to be dumb about this
Let's not talk about Thanksgiving
Better, I'll just say: f*** you Riko, he was laughing, Neil put the pieces together and went straight to murder and Aaron committed
Also Nicky's parents DON'T deserve him, just nope
"It wouldn't bother you that it was used as a murder weapon?""It didn't kill anyone important."
Neil being soft AND brutal, making it believable, HOW
Neil rethinking about his words about suicide, and also thinking he was being so expensive and driving Andrew's car
"Do it."
"You lie, and lie, and lie, and you think I'll trust you with his life?"
Ah I was wondering when someone other than Abby would get to "see" the scars
That was intense
"Thanks for taking one for the team, Neil. You're a real friend.""Are we?" I don't know how I survived this boy, seriously
"I'm not a dog, I'm a Fox."
To get an idea of how Neil is with people he cares about: Riko threatened hell for Andrew, bc he had one of the doctors on his payroll, but he said that he might reconsider, might, if Neil let himself be tortured for two whole weeks that were actually three
And he just went
The flight back where Neil was so broken he just had the strength to call Coach and how he basically held him together, and Neil wasn't okay until he remembered he hadn't given in, hadn't signed the contract, he was still a Fox
The Ravens are a freackish cult
And now we have a Neil with his old looks back, a broken body, more targets on his back, and explanation to give
"What does Andrew have to do with this?""Everything that matters"
It warmed my heart how Neil went from flinching at Coach and being ready to run, to letting himself be turtured so Riko would not go after his teammates (yeah he still thinks he's going to die before summer and made peace with it, but hey baby steps)
"Too many questions. Too much lost time. It was safer to drink away the pain."
"He was their family. They were his. They were worth every cut and bruise and scream.[...]Facing the Foxes on the court this spring would be the last mistake Riko ever made"
In which Neil can predict the future but shhhh
I was going crazy at the end of this one, it was so intense and I finally loved all the team, including Coach and Abby (and yes also Bee, even if Neil doesn't). So yeah this turned out long, I fear the next list. Stay tuned.
The Foxhole Court Incoherent Whatever
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wematch · 4 years
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Andreil FIC REC
Someone asked me once for fic recs and I liked sharing what I had been reading at the time. And it’s been so long since I made that list that I decided to make another one. So here, take a list of the fics I’ve read so far this year (and that nobody asked for)
winter, formal by moonix (G | 1927 words)
Rating: General Audiences
Neil tries to get away from a boring conversation and accidentally ends up asking the most popular guy in school to dance with him at the winter formal.
likes: exy by djhedy (T | 32493 words)
Allison: ok look I have an idea Neil: oh no Allison: you’re not going to love it Neil: I already said oh no Allison: we should sign you up to tinder! Neil: …how do you leave whatsapp
Picking Up Stitches by fuzzballsheltiepants (T | 5137 words)
Neil & Andrew are finally on the same team, finally moving in together, into a quiet neighborhood recommended by their agent.  Neil can't quite believe it's real, but with the help of a new neighbor - who's also a secret fan - he starts to settle into his new home.
Cue Cards and Velvet Boxes by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)  (M | 4372 words)
5 times Andrew meant to propose and 1 time he couldn't help it.
april showers, april snow storms by ephemeralsky (T | 7508 words)
“Do you believe in fate, Neil?” Andrew asks, blasé.
“Not really, no,” Neil answers gamely, even though Andrew had asked something very similar at the cafe.
“Luck, then.”
“Only the bad sort.”
“And yet you do not cease to ruminate over the notion of soulmates.”
“Has anybody ever told you that you speak like someone from a different time period altogether?” Neil deflects.
(or: Andrew and Neil are soulmates who are stranded at an airport during a snow storm)
For Better Or For Worse by gluupor (T | 15231 words)
Marrying your best friend who you've secretly been in love with for years because you need health insurance is a good idea, right?
...Right?
Restart by ennui_ephemera (T | 52518 words)
Neil Josten hated hospitals.
When he was on the run with his mom, they would hide out in warehouses or sketchy motel rooms and stitch themselves back together with a needle and a bottle of whiskey. He didn't trust hospitals; they were far too open and public for his taste, doctors made it worse with their too-many nosy questions. It was the last thing Neil needed.
But when Neil wakes up in a hospital with no recollection of how he got there and no memory of the past two years of his life, Neil hated it a little bit more.
 Wanted: Random Guy by fuzzballsheltiepants  (T | 5989 words)      
Neil's just trying to get through life as a math major, surviving primarily because of his favorite coffee shop and his speculation about all the regulars there.  When an ad appears on the coffee shop bulletin board looking for someone to take fake couple's photos with, he decides to give the guy a call.  After all, it could be entertaining...right?
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nekojitachan · 5 years
Text
okay, so I posted last week (?) about an AFTG fic idea based on an old movie.
this isn’t it - blame/thank this on @sig66, as we began talking about classic movies and this one came up as a possibility for an AFTG fic, and I’ve been working on it and backstories ever since (think I’ll save the other one for either a possible big bang or a ‘proper’ fic).
Anyway, thank @sig66 for this - no idea of when I’ll be updating this, but for now, it’s a tumblr story and I’ll TRY to get it updated inbetween ‘proper’ fic updates (so maybe every other week, possibly sooner?). I’ve a lot of backstory for this, so while the movie is the backbone of the fic, expect it to expand from it (if you’re at all familiar with the film).
As for this first part, it really just sets things up.
Only trigger warnings should be for Neil’s past in Baltimore (and vague at that).
How to Steal a (lot of) Million(s) Part 1/? *******
Nathaniel sat hunched over in one of the waiting room’s plastic chair, desperate to quiet, to be still, to not draw any attention to himself like his mother had taught him. Each time the elderly woman behind the desk looked his way to give him a reassuring smile or someone came into the room he nearly flinched before he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to react, that reacting was bad. The bruises and neatly stitched cuts hidden beneath his black pants and black, green and white plaid sweater reminded him of just how bad it could be to show any negative emotions.
It just… it was so hard when his mother wasn’t there to shield him from the worst of the curious looks, to give his arm a warning squeeze and whisper ‘Abram’ in his ear to remind him when he got out of line. Normally he was with her back with the doctor, was the reason for their visit (‘a fall down the stairs’, ‘a fight with another boy’, ‘an accident in the kitchen’), but for some reason she’d gone there alone.
What had she done to upset his father so much?
He shoved that thought aside as quickly as he could.
Fortunately, it was just another few minutes before she came out through the one door, her face set in a blank expression which made him clamor onto his feet in an instant and stand up straight while some middle-aged man in a white coat continued to talk to her in a hushed voice. She brushed him off as she motioned Nathanial to the door leading out of the doctor’s office, which he scrambled toward without seeming to rush (he’d learned how to do that in the last year or so).
She didn’t speak until they were out in the blue sedan which she hated for some reason. “It’s all right,” she told him once they were on the highway which would take them back to the house. “Your father knows where we were today, I told him it was a regular check-up.” She motioned to her purse while she spoke. “That I needed a new script.”
Nathaniel didn’t quite understand what she meant by the last part but nodded along; what mattered was that he didn’t have to lie about where they were after his mother had picked him up from school. “All right.”
It was quiet for another couple of minutes. “I want you to pack a few of your clothes in a small bag, just some random ones. Not many, only what you’d need for a couple of days. Then put that bag in the back of your closet. Can you do that, Abram?” she asked without looking at him.
Long used to his mother asking things of him without any explanation, Nathaniel nodded. “Yes, Mum.”
“Good boy. Now, let’s review your latest French lesson.” They spent the rest of the drive back to the house going over various verb tenses until he almost felt at peace, until the anxiety was almost gone (but it was never truly gone, not when they always went back to that place, when Father or Lola or Patrick would be waiting for them).
He put her request out of mind once he’d done what she’d asked, aware of the risk he faced if his father caught him (pain until he answered, pain for not giving any good explanations, pain and pain and pain), and life went on as ‘normal’ in his father’s house (pain).  All Nathaniel wanted was to get through the day without setting off the man, without being a disappointment somehow, with not having to go into the basement to learn cruel lessons, to take up knives or have the blades turned on him.
The only true thing he knew about life was that it was filled with disappointment and pain.
Then about a week after the doctor’s appointment, his mother woke him in the middle of the night, told him to be quiet and to grab the bag he’d prepared, then snuck him out of the house while everyone else either slept or were gone (inflicting that pain on others). He thought it was some sort of fever dream (aftermath of the latest cuts inflicted upon him earlier that day), especially when they ended up at the local airport with two first class tickets to fly to London that night.
Especially when his mother, thrumming with an energy he’d never seen in her before, dragged him (exhausted from being awake so long and expecting his father to appear any moment) from the airport and into the crowded metropolis to some stone-faced building (one in a row of them) and pounded on the door until a man only a few inches taller than her and maybe a little older with dark blond hair (tousled as if he’d just gotten out of bed despite the lateness of the afternoon) and similar grey eyes opened the door to stare at them as if they were ghosts.
“Mary? Bugger me… Mary?” he gasped out as he slumped against the door as if in shock. “And… Nathaniel?”
“Abram,” she snapped as she dropped the bag in her left hand onto the ground. “I don’t want to hear that name again. Now are you going to let us in? We’re knackered, you daft fool.”
“You… bugger me,” the man repeated as he rubbed at his eyes as if he was tired (or seeing things). “Okay, come on in,” he mumbled as he stepped back.
“That’s your Uncle Stuart,” Nathaniel’s mother informed him as they entered the house. “You can trust him.”
If Mary told him he could… Nathaniel gave the man (currently muttering about needing some damn coffee) a shy look as he pressed against his mother’s side, still not convinced that all of this wasn’t one crazy dream – running away from his father to his mother’s family, to possibly finding a safe haven. Yet the man (his uncle) gave him a kind smile and asked if he wanted some biscuits and tea.
Nathaniel (Abram) knew it was reality when his mother died of advanced ovarian cancer less than a year later.
*******
“Sold for $190,000 to the gentleman in front of me. Thank you very much, sir,” the auctioneer called out in English, though still bearing a thick French accent. “Now up next, ladies and gentlemen, is item number thirty-four per the catalog, and we’re accepting bids from New York, London and Hong Kong both online and via telephone as well as in person. This great Cezanne painting is from the world famous Josten collection, sold by order of the present head of the Josten family, Monsieur Stuart Josten.” He gestured to an elegant figure standing toward the back of the room and next to the wall as if trying to avoid attention, dressed in a simple tuxedo. The man gave a nervous smile and a slight bow while people applauded, and one even shook his hand.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, who will start the bidding on this superb post-impressionist masterpiece at $200,000?” the auctioneer called out as he stood in front of the painting of a woman in a red dress. The bidding commenced and immediately rose to $500,000 while ‘Stuart Josten’ watched on in delight.
*******
Neil tore through Paris in the supped-up MG Midget that Matt had gifted him a couple of years ago, on his way to the latest home he shared with his uncle after hearing the news about Stuart’s recent bout of… of… idiocy. Okay, so maybe the Hatfords weren’t exactly on the up and up….
Okay, so the Hatfords were so fucking far away from the up and up. Did Stuart really have to set a stupid record with the sale of his latest little ‘project’? Really?
Neil nearly rammed the car into the ornate stonework in front of the small, old mansion before he put the car into park and jumped out, then ran up the steps into the house. Davis was there to take his cap and bomber jacket, and to inform him that Stuart was indeed home and upstairs.
“Thanks,” Neil told his uncle’s assistant, well aware that the man didn’t have to rat out his boss like that, and caught the wink sent his way; Davis knew that someone was about to catch an earful right then.
He went up the curved staircase and into the one sitting room, where after making sure that no one was around (old habits died hard), he climbed into the ‘special’ wardrobe; once inside, he slid back the false panels so he could access the secret room behind them.
The spiral staircase in the hidden room led him up to the studio where his uncle worked on his forgeries, a large space filled with artworks in progress and various pieces which inspired them – statues and all sorts of paintings. Once again, Neil was amazed at his uncle’s talent, and a bit chagrined that Stuart focused it on reproducing existing works of art.
“Hello, brat,” Stuart called out to him from where he sat behind an easel, dressed in an old smock over his clothes and paint smeared over his left cheek.
“Hello, Stu,” Neil responded as he came over to give the man who’d raised him ever since he was ten years old a hug.
“Be careful,” Stuart chided with affection even as he gently hugged Neil in return. “I’m covered with paint.”
“When aren’t you? And you’re also covered with money,” Neil shot back. “Allison told me about the auction when I stopped by.”
“Ah yes, the Cezanne.” Stuart grinned with pride as he leaned back. “I could have sold a dozen of them at that auction! But one was enough.”
“One is more than enough!” Neil gritted out as he tried not to grow angry with the man. “I thought we talked about this! It’s getting too risky these-“
“Ah, ah, not now, I’m busy,” Stuart told him as he shooed Neil out of the way of his laptop screen, where he had a close-up of the Van Gogh painting he was currently reproducing. “How nice of him to only use his first name like that, makes it so much easier.”
“Not again!” Neil felt the urge to grab something and throw it, but refused to give in to his temper like that because… because of reasons. “It’s too soon!”
Stuart gave him a patronizing look as he began to wipe clean his brushes. “Don’t worry, this one won’t be sold for a long, long time. We’ll hang it up, let people look at it and appreciate it, and who knows, maybe some legendary, asshole tycoon will be able to persuade me to part with it if the price is right.”
Despite himself, Neil had to smile as he helped Stuart with the brushes. “You’re such a scoundrel.”
“Thank you, you little brat.” Stuart smiled back and swiped a (clean, thankfully) brush along the tip of Neil’s nose. Then he blanched as Neil nearly tipped over the plate containing specks of dirt. “Be careful! That’s my Van Gogh dirt,” he explained as he hurried to pick it up and place it in the one cupboard where he kept his more precious supplies, like the pigments he used in his forgeries. “That’s the dirt from his neighborhood, it took some effort to collect it. What I don’t go through to make these things as authentic as possible,” he complained as he stored it away. “Doubt Van Gogh did as much.”
“He didn’t have to, he was Van Gogh,” Neil snarked as he plopped down in a spare chair. “Sort of the point of it, no?”
“Yeah, kiddo, but in his lifetime, he only sold one painting, and I’ve already sold two as him,” Stuart shot back.
Neil felt a headache coming on and wished that he’d stopped to put on a pot of tea first. “You do know that selling someone else’s painting’s a crime, right? And they have all this lovely technology now to figure out that your stuff is a fake?”
Stuart scoffed as he continued to clean the brushes. “But I only sell the stuff to rich people, and they’re too stuck-up to admit that they might have been fooled into buying fakes. Know your audience, brat, rule number one.” He threw an old rag at Neil, who rolled his eyes at the familiar saying. “And don’t throw any stones, after half the shit you’ve pulled.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, and I-“ Neil frowned at the sound of sirens outside of the house, which only grew louder as if they were approaching the place. He got up from the chair to go look out the nearest window, and blanched when he saw several police cars pull into the house’s driveway. “Fuck, the police are here!”
“What?” Stuart rushed over to his side so he could look out as well, then let out a harsh breath. “Don’t scare me like that, kiddo, it’s just the director of the Kleber-Lafayette Museum, here about the Cellini Venus.”
“Eh?” For a moment, those words didn’t make any sense – why wasn’t Stuart worried? Since when didn’t the Hatfords have anything to fear from the police showing up in force (sure, some were paid off, mostly in the UK, but…)? Then he remembered about the damn statue and groaned. “That thing? What about it?”
“The Cellini Venus is to be the outstanding feature of a great loan exhibition – the masterpieces of French Collection,” Stuart informed him with pride as he scrubbed his hands free of paint.
Screw tea, Neil was willing to start drinking alcohol right about now. “Not in public,” Neil all but wailed as he thought about the damn forgery, a piece of ‘pride’ in the family. “It’s not really French,” he hissed. “We’re not French!”
“They don’t know that,” Stuart told him with a wry grin as he pulled on a dress coat as if to make himself presentable. “Come now, we can’t leave them waiting.”
“Not in public,” Neil repeated as he hurried after his uncle and caught him in time to wipe away the smudge of paint on his left cheek, certain that Davis would stall the people downstairs; he was grateful that he’d stopped by Allison’s earlier and let her (well, couldn’t stop her, really) dress him in something ‘acceptable’. He straightened the collar of his Maison Kitsune shirt and made sure it was tucked into the Amiri jeans his friend wouldn’t let him leave until he put on.
Sometimes he thought that his family’s enforcers could learn a thing or two about intimidation from the woman.
“I’ll be down in a minute, Monsieur Aldritch,” Stuart called out while he motioned to Neil to make sure that the wardrobe was properly closed up, still busy fussing with his own outfit as he did his best to look like ‘Stuart Josten’, eccentric art collector and not Stuart Hatford, member of one of Europe’s most infamous crime families.
“No hurry, Monsieur Josten,” some man called back in return as Neil and his uncle made their way down the stairs; Neil did his best to remain calm in the face of so many armed officers being inside his home while Stuart gave them a friendly smile; it helped that Davis stood off to the side, doing a perfect impression of an unremarkable butler and not someone who could kill them all in under a minute.
Aldritch and Stuart exchanged greetings while Neil did his best not to glare figurative daggers at the back of his uncle’s head over him being so foolish as to loan out a fake which had been a family ‘heirloom’ and joke for years. Somehow he summoned a smile when he was introduced to the museum’s director, and had to bite his tongue when the man thanked his uncle for keeping such a priceless treasure in France like a ‘true’ Frenchman (if he only knew the truth).
Personally, Neil didn’t see what the fuss was about the damn statue, which looked just like any other Venus statue in his mind, though supposedly his grandfather had done a remarkable job with the forgery (and was the reason why Stuart preferred that particular crime to the rest of the ‘family business’). It had passed various inspections in the past… but Neil lived in fear of technology catching up to his uncle one day, and including the Cellini Venus in a big art exhibit just might be what attracted the wrong attention.
He attempted to ‘help’ Aldritch and the man’s assistants load the marble statue into its padded travel case, but Stuart knew him a little too well and pulled him away before he could use the statue’s heavy marble base to ‘accidentally’ break the ‘precious’ artwork and so prevent it from being used in the collection. “Behave, brat,” Stuart whispered in Spanish as the case was locked and carefully picked up.
“This is a mistake,” Neil warned, but it was too late at that point to do anything to stop it as the statue was being carried away.
Once they were gone and Davis offered to put on some tea, Neil gave in to the urge to glare at his uncle. “What the hell have you done?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Stuart gestured to the empty alcove where the statue had rested until a couple of minutes ago. “I did a bloke a solid, I did. They needed something special for that collection they’re putting together, and now your grandfather’s-“
“A fake, you gave them a fake piece of art,” Neil reminded the fool as he ran his hands through his hair, which Allison had done her best to tame earlier. “A piece of marble, which they can use all these nice little bits of machines to scan and run tests on it.”
Stuart scoffed as he undid the buttons to his black dinner jacket and sat down in an antique chair. “They won’t do that to something I loaned out and risk damaging it, which is why I agreed to add it to the collection. Do you know how many offers I’ve had for the damn thing? Even one recently,” he confessed with a slightly pained look, “but I never accept because I won’t risk it.”
“Yet you’re fine with thousands of people gawking at the thing,” Neil mumbled as he sank down on a velvet-covered duvet and took to rubbing his temples in an effort to stave off a headache.
“Hundreds of thousands,” Stuart corrected him, and laughed when Neil groaned. “Don’t you see that I’m proud of it, kiddo? Your grandfather spent months on that thing while your gram posed for him. It’s not just some old piece of marble a barely known Italian banged out, but a family heirloom.”
A family heirloom that was going to get Stuart locked up, and possibly Neil as an accessory (well, more than that when he had to break his uncle out of prison).
Somehow, he had a feeling that he’d be rounding up the gang soon to help them out of a huge mess.
He should have gone off with Henry and Jamie to help them with their ‘little Russian problem’, dammit, no matter how much he hated vodka.
*******
Thanks for like the five people who read this. As stated, updates are whenever. Next part should have Andrew and Kevin and more of the Foxes (lots of backstories there).
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sadboyayeron · 4 years
Text
Tapping at my Chamber Door Chapter 3
The lady.  Jennifer Hubert judging by the name on the desk plate.  Told them to sit in the chair or bench infant of her desk while she went around then in sat down.  Kevin sat in the chair directly in front of her.  Neil and Andrew took to sitting on the bench on the right side of the wall.  It wasn’t a particularly large space but it wasn’t to small to fill claustrophobic with four people inside.
“So Kevin Day, It is very nice to meet you my husband loves watching you guys play Exy,” She smiled at them and then opened a drawer in her desk pulling out two folders.  “ Now these paper were just printed out today.  One from Nikoshi’s Doctor and another from his psychologist.”  Kevin straightened his back more at that.
“Psychologist?”  She looked up at Kevin.
“Yes, a lot of children in foster care go to see a therapist.  It helps cope with abandonment and makes sure the kids are transitioning well in their new homes.”  She opened one of the folders.  “Nikoshi saw a therapist who recommended him to a psychologist.  He was diagnosed with ADHD/ADD and given medication.  He went through three different medications before he was put on Focalin XR.  His biggest issues are impulsivity, managing feelings, and energy.  There is more information in the folder with getting the prescription at a pharmacy and things to know about his behavior.  He takes Focalin every morning before school, its not needed on the weekends but to long off it isn’t the best idea.  Though if you want him off the medication, if you ever come to adopting him you can do that.”  She looked towards the other two. “Will you two be helping take care of Nikoshi.”
“Yeah we are, is there anything else we need to know.  If he needs a therapist we already got that covered.  We can send her the information.”  Neil replied with a bored tone but 
“Thats good to know, he just saw the doctor last week.  He gained some weight and is now at a more healthier weight then he was before.”  She sighed. “You have to reminded him to eat, he forgets to and he doesn't ask for food.  The foster home he was just at was good with keeping a schedule, he ate, took his meds, ate at school, had a snack at home, soccer practice and then dinner.  He gets distracted and has little habits that cause him focus to much on random things.  The meds take away his hunger also, so it important that he finishes.”  She then closed both folders and stacked them together before sliding them to Kevin.  
Kevin didn’t know how to process that.  This information sounded to familiar.  He always had to remind Riko to eat something.  Riko would go days without eating, or sleeping, or even both.  It got so bad the master had to tube feed him because he past out and didn’t get back up.  Niko always got back up.  He was taken out of his thoughts when the lady, Jennifer stood.  He picked up the folders and got up following Andrew and Neil out the door.  Nikoshi was still sitting in his chair, he was singing his legs slowly and seemed fixated on his hands.
“Nikoshi, these gentlemen here are going to be your new guardians,”  Niko looked up at them.  He got a better look at there faces, now that the glasses were off he could easily recognize who the taller man was with the chess piece on his cheek bone.  He was confused o say the least.  This had to be some sick joke, or a stupid stuPID dream.  He looked at the other too, the screw that littered the red heads tan face and the man with blond hair and black studs.
“Deadass?”  He blurted out suddenly.  Fuck.  He did not mean to blurt that out.  Kevin day looked taken back by his statement and the other too snickered from slightly behind him.  The lady looked horrified.
“Nikoshi thats not how you take to people.”  She said.
“Oh, um... Sorry.”  He tried to say hoping he didn't look like a complete dumbass. “But like aren't you famous or something.”  
Kevin honestly had know idea what to say to that.  He was not prepared for any of this to begin with.  
“Come on kid we have to go to the air port, you got everything. “  Andrew glanced at the trash bag sitting next to him and felt a familiar weight on his chest.  The kid looked at his stuff and back at Andrew and nodded his head.  He grabbed it and stood up.  Andrew could see the resemblances to his trash of a father on the kids face but he could also see Nikoshi as the kid that he was.  He wanted nothing more then to protect this kid.
“Alright it was nice meeting you three and you behave Nikoshi.”  She waved at them before returning to her office.  Nikoshi tried to wave back but he kept his hand close to his side still.  The red head, Neil Josten gave him a small smile and told him to follow then to there rental car.  They went ahead of him but Kevin kept looking back.  When they got in the car Neil was sitting in the back with him. Niko sat behind Kevin while Neil was behind Andrew.  Andrew turned to look at Niko while Kevin pulled out of the parking lot.
“You hungry?”  he asked.  Niko realized he never got to eat breakfast, Kris usually made sure he did because she was told to make sure he stayed at healthy weight.  He was about to say he hadn’t eaten yet but a quick glance at the clock in the front told him it was already 1:14pm.  Instead he shrugged.  He wasn’t hungry, but he also knew that the meds took away his hunger and he should probably eat something.  “Is there anything you would want to eat.”  Yes.  Bacon egg and cheese sandwich.  He didn't voice that though he just shrugged his shoulders again.  Andrew Minyard sighed before looking at Kevin.
“Umm, why don’t we find something at the air port, we haven’t eaten since breakfast so we could eat.”  Kevin told him.  they made eye contact through the mirror but Kevin quickly averted his eyes.  
“Okay.”
Niko decided he did not like Airports. They were overly crowded, had to many security guards, and once they got to the the area with food he did not like that the smells of different foods.  Kevin got him a suitcase where just stuffed his trash bag where he stuffed his trash bad inside of.  He tended to stay close of all three of them but stayed slightly behind.
“Alright Nikoshi, pick a place you want to eat.”  He did not like this.  There was a lot of places to eat.  A lot of places he has never been.  A lot of food he hasn’t tried.  He did not like this choice that was given to him.  When Kevin noticed he wasn’t going to answer his question he sat his eyes on Niko.  Niko did not like this either.  Couldn’t they just pick for him.  He shrugged his shoulders.  Neil and Andrew weren’t surprised but Kevin seemed irritated with him.  He didn’t want to come off as irritating he really didn’t know.  “Thats not an answer.”  He knew that wasn’t an answer but it was the only one he had.  He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and moved his feet side to side nervously.
“Cafe con leech and strawberry pop tarts.”  Niko blurted.  Kevin was bout to say something else but Neil cut him off pointing to a 7/11 that was right next to them on the left.  Kevin didn't like the idea of giving a 10 year old coffee but went with it when Andrew flicked him a look.  Neil grabbed the pop-tarts while Niko followed Andrew and Kevin to make the coffee.  Andrew asked him how he liked it. “Half filled coffee with two spoons of sugar...No it needs to be even with the spoon.  Yes.  And the other half almost all milk and the vanilla creamer for taste.  Yay!”  
This kid is getting excited about Andrew doing his coffee how he likes it, what the hell.  This better not be a coffee addiction he is feeding.  He handed the coffee to the kid ignore Kevin's little frown.  This was the first time he saw the kid smile, besides it wasn’t even that much coffee.  The kid probably just likes the taste of it.  They went to the register meeting Neil who had the pop tart, fruit bowl, chocolate bar, and a sandwich.  Andrew could guess who's was who's.
As they sat in the chairs near where there plain was supposed to be in thirty minutes, Nikoshi swung his legs back and forth as he took off the crust around the pop-tart first.  Siping his coffee after two pieces.  Then he eat the rest of the pop-tart, took a big gulp and did the same thing with the next pop-tart.  Kevin found this behavior odd and familiar.  “Why are you eating it like that.”  Ovisuly was the wrong ting to say because Nikoshi stopped all movement.  He looked at Kevin and shrugged.  The shrugging again.
“I don’t like the criss to I eat it first and like the drink the cafe at the same time so I get all the flavors.  But I don’t like mixing the strawberry with it so I eat that last and then drink more.  My foster mom always gave me Cafe con leche and pop-tarts.”  Niko wasn’t in the mood to eat anymore.  Now he was thinking about it and he didn't want to.  He only had a little bit left and knew he had to finish it or else it would be wasting.
Kevin you are a ass.  He watch Nikoshi shove the rest into his mouth and then chew ever so slowly while looking around.
“Nikoshi have you done any sports.”  Neil leaned forward to look at Niko from where he sat next to Andrew to get a better look at the kid.  Niko looked at Neil and nodded.  He told them about being on the soccer team.  Kevin made a face to that and Andrew gave a tiny smirk.  He explained how he was supposed to be right wing, which is like a midfielder that can play both offense and defense and assist the striker or can shoot in the goal.  He was supposed to be a right wring but he coach always switched him around the field.  He played striker a lot too.  He was the fasts on the time.  Neil smiled at that.  Kevin thought about how good he would be at sexy with his father and mothers genes and quickly tried to shut the thought down.  Nikoshi also explained how he played basketball and baseball for fun with some kids in the area.
Soon it was time to bored the plain.
(So I don't know if Im going to continue writing like this, Ideas pop up randomly so I might just stick to doing that)
This is possibly the last chapter but Im still going to be talking about Niko.  Send me asked about him if you want.
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filteredred · 5 years
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The Foxhole Court Fic Recs
In honor of Fanfic Writers Appreciation Day, here are a few fantastic works in our favorite fandom.
Signing on the Line by andrewiel @jostenminyard | When Neil Josten is offered a position as a starting striker for a professional Exy team, he feels like all of his dreams are coming true. He signs the contract, not caring about the strict morality clause that controls who he can and can't date in the public eye. Then he meets Andrew Minyard, the top-ranked goalie of a rival team, and then Neil thinks he might just have to care after all.
This fic is ah-mazing. I read it 3 times before I could let go enough to read something else. 10/10
Something in Return by reaching_my_summit @reaching-my-summit | Andrew’s final year at Palmetto State comes to a close. His future is upon him and there are plans to be made. Years ago, Neil asked Andrew to stop smoking in exchange for something. Andrew finally knows what he wants in return.
Post canon andreil happily exploring Disney World.
light fires at night (to push back the void) by inthesea | The first time Andrew realizes he wants to hear the words, Neil isn’t even doing anything. He’s just sitting there, staring at the horizon with that stupidly dramatic faraway expression of his, and letting the cigarette burn down between his fingers all the way to the filter — an outrageous waste of good nicotine, if you asked Andrew. (Or: 20+ times Andrew and Neil say I love you, and one time they say it out loud.)
Remember that fic you read that one time when Andrew counted syllables and consonants and everything about it was just. so. good? I think everyone loves this fic. This was one I read before I read the books based on kudos, then went back and read it again.
dangerous magics by SashaSea (SHCombatalade) @anneuhken | For centuries, there was a war. Then there were the Bindings (Reposted and restricted to registered AO3 users only)
If you’ve seen many fic rec lists, you may have heard of this fic. I searched high and low...and finally it’s back! If you enjoy fantasy, this one’s for you.
Ultraviolence by lscar123 @lscar123 | Neil Josten is of the most successful songwriters in the industry but years of blocking out his own personal pain and writing mind numbing radio hits have started to wear him down so he decides to take a break from it all and return to The Fox Hole, the bar he stumbled onto years ago and helped set up an open mic night at. It's there he meets Andrew Minyard, a bartender who makes an immediate impression on him. Something about Andrew tells him to run but it's either his own stubbornness or his pension for self destruction that makes him stay. Nothing in his life will ever be the same after the first night he spends back in the place he used to call home.
I. Love. Neil. In. This. Fic.
Ohana Means Family by SensationalSunburst @sensationalsunburst | He honestly thought they were going to make it.David understood that adrenaline could make time feel like it was crawling by; make seconds turn to minutes turn to lifetimes. He’d experienced it before. But when a man to his left, up next to Andrew's lot, raised a bottle high, red flushed face contorted in a sneer, he felt time slow to molasses around him.
Part of the Return of Dad!Mack series, in this one, Wymack takes a hit meant for Andrew.
Where You Lead by gluupor @gluupor | When Neil promised Kayleigh that he'd look out for Kevin if anything ever happened to her he'd never expected to be a single teenage father hiding out in a small town. Luckily the town's residents seem keen to adopt them. A Gilmore Girls AU where Kevin's a kid, Neil's his caffeine-addict father, and Andrew's a grumpy diner owner who loves them both.
Part of a just-the-right amount of sweet series set in a small town.
Skilled by wildfrancium @lexatargaryen | Neil has a talent for deactivating sensors that tell doctors when a patient takes their medication. Andrew, a famous Exy player, has a sensor that needs deactivating.
Very cool sci fi.
Kintsugi by SensationalSunburst @sensationalsunburst | “He saw our scars and thought they'd been fixed with gold, like the pottery in the book.” Neil blinked, stunned. “Kids this age are honest.” Andrew said, “They haven't learned to lie.”
This whole series (Small Angry Gardeners) is fantastic, featuring post canon andreil playing pro exy and living in the suburbs. This piece shows Kevin’s son reacting to their scars...it’s beautiful.
Crossfire by RoseGold_En @foxhole-pipe-dream | The year is 2073. Andrew and Aaron Minyard are twins born into a world with a strict one-child policy due to overpopulation. They take on a singular identity as "Adam Minyard", with only one of them allowed outside at a time. Siblings who are discovered are separated from their families and put into an eternal cryosleep. One day, Andrew disappears. Aaron and Nicky have to find him while maintaining the twins' cover. It's up to Aaron to find out who sold them out and why a bureau agent named "Neil" knows his brother's real name.
An excellent distopian au
A Mewment Like This Series by fuzzballsheltiepants @fuzzballsheltiepants | “...will the owner of the cat with the stupid name come back here? Your cat is trying to kill the vet.” And Neil and Andrew both stand up.
A continuing series of vignettes featuring pre-relationship andreil (so far), their cats Sir and King, and various aftg characters. Andrew cooks, and Neil is grateful.
Two Bros Five Feet Apart by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot) @leahlisabeth | Jeremy's girlfriend dumps him on the eve of a romantic vacation. Jean fills in.
Jeremy and Jean fake dating on a cruise ship. Cue adorableness.
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p0tatonoah · 3 years
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The one with the wedding
Summary:  It’s Nicky and Erik’s wedding and things happen, people get ideas…
The food? God Neil wanted to get married a hundred times if that meant he could eat like that. 
Wait-
Had he just…
Nah, it was just for the food. Definitely for the food.
Prefer to read on Ao3?
“This wedding couldn’t be any gayer if Elton John performed on a revolving stage with a piano made of unicorns,” Aaron said to no one in particular.
“That was weirdly specific,” Neil said, nudging Aaron’s ribs so he would shut up. They were at the altar watching a smiling Erik wait as his husband to be walked down the aisle. Nicky’s face was a mixture of happiness with nerves and you could see that it was taking all his willpower not to run the rest of the way to Erik’s side. That and Wymack, who had one arm tightly looped around Nicky’s.
Andrew’s expression was as bored as always and it remained that way throughout the ceremony. When it was time for the vows, Nicky promised to love Erik through the good, the bad and the excruciating hikes, which elicited a laugh from the audience and a scowl from Aaron. Neil stepped on his foot, whispering angrily “Stop being an ass.”
After the ceremony, they moved to the garden where the reception would take place. They followed the grooms outside throwing fistfuls of rice at them (wedding ecological rice, as Erik requested). Andrew, who had to be convinced it would be fun, started throwing it with a little unnecessary force that had Nicky hiding his face on his hands for protection.
The reception was beautiful, there were flowers everywhere, but nothing as corny as roses, Neil thought. They were wild, in shades of lavender and white and hung down trellises around the garden. The food? God Neil would get married a hundred times if that meant he could eat like that. 
Wait-
Had he just…
Nah, it was just for the food. Definitely for the food.
He was taken out of his thoughts when a voice next to him said “Let’s dance,” all confidence and no room for refusing. Allison.
Neil looked at the woman staring down at him, she was gorgeous on her flowy dress and high heels. He looked around to make sure she was talking to him. “Why?” He finally asked. “Renee’s busy being adored by everyone,” she answered with a dismissive hand gesture.
They danced a few songs and Neil didn’t know how it was possible to step at someone’s heels when they were right in front of you, but he still managed to do that several times. When Allison couldn’t take it anymore, she excused herself, saying she needed some water and new feet. Graceful.
Neil went back to his table. Andrew was there, sipping on a colorful drink and seeing Neil’s lips quirk, the blond raised an eyebrow in warning. They sat in silence for a while and then “Would you ever do that?”
“I don’t think I have it in me to be so tacky,” Andrew said, cocking his head towards the grooms. They were dancing to a song from the 60’s and god, they were bad at it.
“I’m not talking about that,” Neil said, but couldn’t make himself finish the thought.
“And what are you talking about?”
“The wedding… Would you… you know…”
“Neil Abram Josten, are you proposing?”
“NO!” His answer was so desperate, he almost choked on it.
“Okay,” Andrew said slowly, turning back to watch his cousin dance to the Bird song.
The rest of the party was an embarrassing blur. There were speeches (Neil didn’t know he had to write something and ended up talking about how they first met, and how he thought Nicky was an asshole for having forcefully kissed him, and drugged him, but that was all water under the bridge and he loved him now), and tequila shots, and a conga line, and Neil throwing up on Wymack’s shoes. Maybe he should go back to his no drinking policy. 
In the cab on the way home, Andrew fell asleep, head on Neil’s shoulder. His breath was soft and steady against Neil’s body. “Neil Josten-Minyard” he muttered under his breath,  and started to think maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
-
They were washing the dishes on a Tuesday night and Neil thought that was as good a time as any.
“Drew?”
“Hm”
“Do you ever wanna get married?”
“This again? Careful not to drop a plate or something this time.”
“Ha ha. I’m serious. I mean… I love you and I do want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Andrew’s response was a noise somewhere between annoyance and disgust.
“Hey, talk to me,” Neil put a hand on Andrew’s waist, making the man turn to face him.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing, Josten?” Andrew leaned on the sink and stared at Neil’s face.
“Yeah, but-“
“But what? Do you need a paper to tell you that? Or a hundred people watching you wearing a stupid tux?”
“N-no? I just want…”
Andrew raised an eyebrow.
“We live together, we wake up to each other’s faces everyday. I even put up with those stupid cats of yours, why would you want to pursue such an heteronormative bullshit?”
“You love those cats and you know- that’s not the point,” said Neil a bit exasperated. “Nicky and Erik looked pretty happy with their heteronormative bullshit.”
“So marry them.”
“Andrew,” Neil rolled his eyes and got closer to his boyfriend, hooking his fingers on the loops of his jeans. “What happens if one of us gets sick? The doctors won’t give you information because you asked him nicely.”
“Good thing I don’t do nice,” Andrew whispered, bringing Neil closer. Their foreheads almost touching.
“I’m serious, you can’t just threaten your way inside a hospital room every time.”
“Watch me.”
Neil’s sigh was audible.
“Ok Josten, that’s the whole reason you wanna get married? Visiting hours?“
“Well, we wouldn’t need to testify against each other in court. That can come in handy too.” Neil said with a wink.
“Thanks for reminding me why I hate you.” Andrew stated, but instead of giving the expected reply, Neil just held Andrew’s face in his hands, lips so close he could feel his breath. “You love me Minyard. The question is, will you marry me, yes or no?”
He could feel more than see Andrew’s smile on his lips. The blond held him by the waist and drew him for a kiss, soft at first and then deep and passionate. When they came up for air, Andrew’s voice was rasp and raw “Yes. Always yes, Abram”.
There may or may not be an Andreil wedding chapter in the making, so let me know what you thought of this one…
Since you’re here, wanna read the rest of my stuff?
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