exy-for-your-ecstasy

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IT WAS EARLY 2000s OKAY THEY’RE BASICALLY WEARING LIZZIE MCGUIRE COSTUMES GIVE EM A BREAK 

I can’t believe Andrew wore boot cut jeans the first time he met Renee :/

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someone: lacrosse me: ah. fake exy. the pre-exy sport. the bones to the flesh of exy. mildly entertaining, but outdated in comparison to ex

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every word out of guillermo del toro’s mouth is the most hardcore thing i’ve ever heard and he says it all so casually like he doesn’t even realize how much of a gothic visionary he is 

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y’all owe me

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Prompt idea if you’re still taking them: andreil visits New York. Maybe do something with the Empire State Building since it’s so tall (and you can go up super high and look over the city) and Andrew’s got his heights fear?

[This…is so bad. I’m so sorry. But I tried. I also have never been to the Empire State building and don’t know how things work there so sorry that this probably isn’t accurate) 

Andrew wished his cousin a slow, painful death. 

It didn’t matter that Nicky’s fiancé paid for their tickets to fly all the way to New York (double dates for a week, he said. It’ll be fun, he said) It didn’t matter that Nicky couldn’t have known about his irrational fear of heights, didn’t matter that Nicky was high from happiness and oblivious—the moment Andrew realised where they were, what they were about to do, he was ready to wring Nicky’s neck like a dish towel.

The murderous intent must’ve seethed out of Andrew like body heat because Neil had been close enough to feel it and kept sending him curious glancing. He didn’t understand it at first, maybe Nicky’s good-mood was finally grating on him—but then Nicky made his way to the Empire State building with Erik in his arms. Neil froze before Andrew did, finally understanding. 

Andrew’s face was blank, his eyes glazed over in disinterest. Neil couldn’t have known that his hands were already numb, couldn’t have known that when Andrew dared to tip his head to look to the very top of the building his stomach had dropped to his toes and up again like a yoyo.

It didn’t take Nicky long to realise he’d lost them. He waved them over in a frantic gesture for them to hurry up. 

“We’ll catch up with you later!” Neil cried.

Nicky pulled a face but didn’t argue as Erik whisked him away ahead of them.

Andrew hadn’t realised he’d been holding Neil’s jacket in a death grip until Neil turned to face him and Andrew felt the material twist against his fingers.

“Well?” Neil said.

Andrew didn’t take his eyes off the building. “Well what?”

Neil tugged the sleeve of Andrew’s coat, pawing for attention. “There’s a cafe a few blocks away. I think I’ve got enough for a few drinks. Maybe even a cake.”

Andrew said nothing. He just kept looking at the building.

“I’ll even order you the sweetest thing ever. You can get extra shots of caramel. What Kevin doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Nicky’s waiting.” Andrew deadpanned.

Neil shrugged. “He’s got Erik.” Neil tugged at his coat again. When Andrew finally turned to him with a cold glare, Neil returned it with a smile soft enough to fray the tension that tightened Andrew’s chest. “You don’t have to go up there Andrew,” Neil said, “what is it, like 1000 feet?”  

“I,250.” Andrew corrected. He’d read it in one of Nicky’s pamphlets. This was why he didn’t make a habit of reading. 

Neil pushed two gentle fingers against Andrew’s chin, forcing his attention away from the building and onto Neil’s face, his scars, his eyes, his lips. 

“Any cake you want.” Neil offered, he wasn’t smiling anymore but Andrew wasn’t blind to the happy glimmer in his eyes. Suddenly 1250 feet seemed like nothing when those long lashes and glacial blue eyes already made Andrew feel like he was plummeting.

Andrew reached out and swiped his thumb over Neil’s lips, trying to erase a smile that wasn’t there. “Buy me one later,” he said, and finally made his feet cooperate. He stepped into the building, Neil right at his tail. There were less people around than they expected, possibly because it was already so late. The sun would be setting soon.

Andrew could feel Neil’s stare burning a hole in his head as they waited for the elevator, as they stepped inside the elevator, as the elevator went up, up, up. “Staring,” Andrew said.

“Aren’t you scared?”

Terrified. Andrew’s heart was doing laps, he could feel his blood beating beneath his skin. The fear sent a sick nostalgia through every vein, every artery. Andrew took Neil’s hand and push two of Neil’s fingers against the delicate flesh into his throat where his pulse was pounding. Neil’s eyes were searching, as though trying and failing to correlate Andrew’s stoic mask to the frantic beating he felt at his fingertips. “Andrew—“

The doors opened and the sky greeted them. 

The sight was as breathtaking as the drop was. New York City was beneath them, the sunset painting the sky an impossible colour of lilac and orange. 

“This…is much higher than the rooftop.” Neil muttered.

Andrew reminded himself to breathe.

Neil tapped his finger against Andrew’s knuckles, silently asking for permission. Andrew didn’t remember allowing his hand to move but before he knew it his fingers were laced in Neil’s. They stepped out together. 

Andrew found it hilarious how even his body could lie to him and tell him he was falling despite his feet being firmly on the ground. Andrew closed his eyes for a moment, quelling the sickening rush of nausea and numbing. 

Neil squeezed his hand in encouragement. Andrew opened his eyes again. 

“Hey.” Neil said. Andrew glanced at him, saw the smile playing at the other man’s lips as he stepped closer. “Yes or no?”

Andrew still couldn’t find it in him to say anything, so he leaned in first and caught Neil’s lips with his. Andrew didn’t understand why this was okay. Kissing Neil gave him the same gut dropping sensation as looking out over the 1250 feet drop, but he couldn’t bring it in him to hate this, couldn’t even say he ever wanted it to end.

Maybe he’d never stop being afraid of heights. But Andrew thought maybe he could enjoy this feeling.

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The top ten best All For The Game characters of all time

It is

Impossible

To

Rank

Them

They

Are

All

Amazing

Wymack

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“I told you not to look at me like that.”

(The saga of Neil not being able to stop staring at Andrew)

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me, writing: literally everyone has raised their eyebrows. everyone. there’s not an eyebrow left unquirked.

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canon: they died

fanfic: fUCK YOU

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reading the foxhole court is wild because you can go from grinning like a fool with sheer delight and affection to pumping your fists in adrenaline-induced cheer and glory to clutching at your mouth and chest in utter shock and absolute pain and gut-wrenching agony 

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Andrew + Pride

the first time, it’s Nicky who takes him to pride. they’re in Germany, and Aaron had looked disgusted when Nicky asked him. I’ll come with you, Andrew had said deadpan, and Nicky looked blindingly, achingly grateful before he ruined it by opening his mouth. that year, Andrew let Nicky drape a rainbow flag over his shoulders, and held his face carefully to paint on the stripes. Andrew ignored Erik and Nicky making out randomly, giggling like kids. he ignored everything, that day, just to stare up at the sky and feel right about this one part of himself.

in Palmetto, he goes to pride with Renee. the tips of her hair are dyed in the colours of the lipstick lesbian flag. she asks him if he wants to dye his hair too, and she looks surprised when he agrees to washable dye. she spends four hours bleaching his hair to her satisfaction, and picks out locks of it to dye with enough care that he feels unworthy. she can’t convince him to wear a flag or change it of his black clothes or give up his knife. but a little kid comes up to him and shyly asks to touch his hair, and Andrew bends down, shoulders tense. her small hands are clumsy but gentle, and she pets his hair for five minutes before her dads come to take her away.

after everything, years after, Neil tells him he wants to go to pride. this time again, Andrew wears a flag. a rainbow one that Neil wraps around him like a shawl. Neil’s wearing the demisexual version, and his scars are painted over with rainbow stripes. it reminds Andrew of his first pride, but Andrew isn’t wearing his wrist bands. that year they hold hands on public and Andrew watches Neil look around himself in wonder. watches him smile when he spots somebody else in an ace flag. at some point a young boy asks them for a photo. Andrew can’t fathom why, but Neil agrees, so Andrew stares at the camera. as they part, he catches the kid staring sadly at Andrew’s wrists. he stares at them like they’re familiar. Andrew thinks, not for the first time, about adoption. about giving somebody else the home he’s never had. just because every kid deserves love and care and acceptance. and he thinks about pride.

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What kind of a princess are you?

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Neil: Kevin sent me a ‘Get Better’ card.

Matt: Aw that’s nice of him.

Neil: I wasn’t sick, he just thought I could do better.

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Favorite Rooftop Scenes + Andreil’s First Kiss

“Every time you say that I believe you a little less.“ “No one asked you.” With that, Andrew caught Neil’s face in his hands and leaned in.”

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TFC Prompt: Neil turns into a raven. Literally. An actual raven. Caw-caw and all.

(This is so bad and rushed as fuck but hey you asked for it.) 

Andrew wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he received his third cryptic death threat through the mail the other day. Maybe he’d find a dead rat at his door sometime during the week, perhaps whoever the bastard was would be a touch more creative and set something on fire for once. 

It certainly wasn’t to come home to find a black winged demon flapping around his living room, pecking at his boyfriend’s Exy racket.

Creative indeed. It caught Andrew by surprise at least, enough to make him stop up short at the door, puzzling over where and how someone might’ve broken in and let loose a fucking raven into his flat.

Andrew dared take his eye off the bird to check the time. If he wasn’t mistaken Neil should’ve been back by now to witness this atrocity. “Josten!” His yell reverberated against the walls. The bird screeched at him and flapped helplessly a few times. Andrew stepped around it to search the kitchen and bedroom, but there was no sign of Neil.

Except from the pool of his clothes by the desk. Andrew frowned as he kicked at Neil’s worn pair of jeans and shirt. Neil wasn’t the type to leave his clothes so haphazardly on the floor. The neat freak was too paranoid for shit and protected his belongings better than a mother hen protected her eggs…

So then why…

Andrew felt the bile crawling up his throat before he could realise how hard his heart hammered against his ribs, the awful but familiar dread that pierced into his gut.

No. No, no, no, not again.

He dug for his phone and called Neil on speed dial. The familiar ringtone sounded from somewhere on the bed. “Motherfucker.” Andrew leapt out of the room, about to dive for his jacket when suddenly, bird swooped across the room. It landed horribly, in a tangle of wings and feathers, right where Andrew’s jacket was folded over the settee.

Andrew flinched and fought the desperate urge to grab the stupid bird by the neck and snap it’s wings. The raven screeched again, high pitched and desperate. Andrew froze in place, hand still outstretched, blood humming agains this ears, his skin, and stared at raven down. The raven stared back…

It had Neil’s blue eyes. But…it couldn’t…

“…Neil?”

The raven did something like a sad nod. And somehow, for some reason, Andrew didn’t doubt it. 

His boyfriend had gotten himself turned into a raven.

How would a normal person react to this? Would they have laughed? Cried? Screamed bloody murder? Andrew couldn’t quite put his finger on what he was feeling, all he could do was stare at his bird boyfriend for a endless moment, his brain blank of solution.

Neil the raven blinked back at him, turning his head this way and that.

Finally, Andrew reached out and bared his palm upwards. Neil hopped unsteadily onto Andrew’s fingers, then his palms, spreading his wings to find his balance. “A Raven,” Andrew said, “Hilarious.” 

Neil squawked. Andrew flicked his beak. “Calm down.” He said. 

Luckily they weren’t expecting any visitors or Skype calls any time soon, even if he wouldn’t put it past Nicky to show up unannounced and uninvited. But Andrew wasn’t one for patience. He wasn’t just going to wait around to see if Neil returned back to normal. 

Andrew had a game with Henderson Bulldogs tomorrow, and he could bet his Marserati that one of them had to do with the death threat and whatever this shit was. 

Andrew slipped out his phone again and rang a certain coach that still happened to be on speed dial. The man picked up on the second ring.

“[And he’s still alive.]” Wymack droned from the other end. If he was surprised by the rare call then he didn’t show it. 

“You sound disappointed.” Andrew said. Neil tilted his head in question; ‘who are you calling?’

“[What is it Minyard, I ain’t got time for—]”

“Neil’s a Raven.”

There was a significant pause. “[Neil Josten will live and die a Fox before he—]”

“He’s a Raven, coach. With wings. Caw-caw and all.”

Another long, dramatic pause. Andrew could hear papers ruffling around in the background, the sound of a chair squeaking. “[I ain’t got time for your shits and giggles, Minyard.]”

“You think I’d call you for shits and giggles?” Andrew jeered and, as if on cue, Neil screeched down the phone and flapped his wings again. Andrew let go of him, but Neil flew to rest against Andrew’s shoulder, head tilting to listen in on the converastion. 

“[The fuck was that?]”

“That would be your previous captain.” The more he spoke the more Andrew could feel the irritation brimming at his chest. He was getting itchy with it. “I’d call my own coach but he hasn’t got the same heart as you, dearest David. And this is your player he’s messed with. Not his. So I’ll make this quick. You’ve got ten minutes to threaten the living shit out of the Henderson Bulldogs. If Harry Potter of Exy doesn’t fess up then tell them they’ve got me to deal with at tomorrows. And they won’t come out of it looking pretty.”

Wymack took a deep breath. He must’ve known Andrew wasn’t one for petty phone pranks, especially when Andrew hadn’t called him once since he graduated. “[I’ll call you back.]” The call flat lined.

Andrew sat down with a sad looking raven for a few minutes before a text off Wymack told him that his game with Henderson Bulldogs tomorrow was cancelled, the ‘Harry Potter of Exy’, as he called him, would be suspended, and for them to wait a few minutes before the charm on Neil wore off.

Andrew messaged back: ‘Fucking ‘charm’?’

‘Apparently they put a charm at your front door. Didn’t realise Neil lived with you’

Oh, they were smart to cancel the game tomorrow.

He didn’t bother replying after that. Though he was sure Wymack had sent more questions. “You’re a fucking loser, Josten.” Andrew grumbled. “You’re charmed. Guess you just have to wait it out. Think you can do that?”

Neil tittered across the sofa, hopped onto Andrew’s lap. “I fucking hate birds.” Andrew said.

Neil squawked. Andrew couldn’t tell what he was trying to say, so he hazard a guess. “You cause more trouble then you’re worth.” Andrew ran his finger over Neil���s smooth beak. Neil let him. “I hate ravens more than I hate you.” It was strange being the one doing all the talking. He was so used to Neil mouthing off around him.

Andrew lay across the couch. He was sore to the bone from training, practically had to drag himself in and out of the showers and into his car.

He didn’t know when he stared to dose off. But when Andrew came back to it, he didn’t flinch. Not even with now Neil lying next to him on the couch, warm, calloused hand gripped firmly in his.

Neil’s broad smile greeted him. “You hate ravens more than me?” He said.

Andrew didn’t bother smiling back but gripped Neil’s hand tighter in his. “On second thought, I liked you better as a bird.”

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Little scene I think about where Neil sneakily watches Andrew reach out to pet one of the cats, but pauses before making contact - asking in a soft voice “yes or no?”

And Neil just slides silently to the floor in a puddle of soft goo when the purring cat gently headbuts Andrew’s palm.