Omgomgomg I Love Ur Andreil Soft Kisses. They Are Soft And Happy.

as a former soccer goalie, here are some very specific things andrew minyard does while playing exy

he has crazy good aim. that cone drill kevin and neil keep doing? andrew's an icon at that

he's gotta hit the balls directly at the strikers (or whoever else needs the ball) from a static position so his aim is probably better and stronger than most people on the team

andrew's literally shit at cardio. man literally doesn't run aside from normal conditioning (and chasing after neil) plus he smokes so his lungs do be constantly dying

also, i feel like people really underestimate how boring being in goal can be

like if the ball's not near you, there is nothing. to. do.

honestly, he probably just puts his racquet down or straight up sits on the floor when the action is on the other end of the court

(this is coming from someone who literally left the field for a few minutes because she had nothing to do)

another thing: the man can jump.

like, put him on a trampoline (not that he'd ever do that lol) and he'll fly above everyone else, no matter his fear of heights

especially because he's so short compared to the goal, he's gotta stretch in every direction to be able to reach the ball

he's mad flexible, is what i'm getting at

penalty shots are his worst enemy

idc how good of a goalie he usually is, most of the catches/blocks he makes are pure luck

and like. his height doesn't help with this at all

most of the sweating he does comes from his extra armor rather than the game itself

again. goalies literally don't move most of the time. for the longest time, nicky just thinks that andrew has some kind of magic deodorant he isn't sharing with the rest of them

(there have been more than a few raids into andrew's toiletries looking for it)

i literally used to get those misty fan water bottle things bc everyone else had one and it looked cool, not because i was ever tired after games lol

he likes interlocking his fingers to see how obtrusive the goalie gloves are

idk it's a thing that all goalies i know do, for absolutely no reason. it do be fun though

goalies have to do a lot of agility and reflexive drills. one of these is kinda like quickly running in place and jumping/rolling to the side to catch a ball someone throws at you

i'm just imagining andrew doing this bc it looks so. funny.

like the person doing the drill looks like some spider on drugs with how fast their feet are moving

(also it makes lots of goalies pretty good at dancing/stuff that requires lots of feet coordination. i'm not saying... but i'm kinda saying, if you get what i mean)

this isn't during exy, but sometimes catching things is so reflexive

once i caught a glass full of water before it shattered on a restaurant floor, and i imagine andrew does shit like that too

but the difference is that he gets so annoyed whenever it happens

being unintentionally helpful is andrew's least favorite thing (but neil finds it so goddamn funny)

sometimes neil randomly drops things near andrew just to watch him get annoyed at his reflexes

(also, i'm just imagining the foxes randomly throwing things at andrew. he's stuck between two situations: catch things and have the foxes laugh at him or let things hit him in the face and have the foxes laugh at him)

When I first saw your ask prompts out of excitement I was going to ask you to write every single one them .i was like "write every single one them ,I will be your sole reader" then I calmed down

So if you can could you plz write something with 10 and 7 .if it's about andrew and neil it will be much appreciated

KSDFJH no pls this made me laugh so hard i can't-

7: squishing their cheeks

10: lifting someone up out of excitement

~

7.

Andrew could tell it was one of those days.

Normally, he wouldn't say anything if Neil told him "no" or if he didn't want to take his shirt off; Andrew felt the same sometimes. But picking at his scars, scratching his cheeks, fidgeting with his armbands — something was up.

So, he asked.

"What is with you, Josten," Andrew sat down next to him. "Acting more rabbit-y than usual."

Neil rolled his eyes and slumped into the sofa cushions. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“What did we say about lying?”

Andrew heard a huff from Neil as he shifted to rest his nose in the crook of Andrew’s neck. “It was just — I heard some kids today talking about how I looked so much like my- like Nathan, and that it was insane that they didn’t recognize me,” Neil mumbled. “I don’t want to look like him.”

Andrew of course was fully prepared to cut a bitch when he heard that, but decided that he could commit murder after making sure that Neil was in the right headspace to hear about his stabby plans.

“You are nothing like him,” Andrew told Neil. Hopefully it was somewhat reassuring.

Neil did not look reassured. Damn.

Andrew was sure that Neil was going to say some bullshit about how he’d be “fine,” and well, he would not be responsible for the combination of the roof and gravity that would likely be soon to follow it that occurred.

So instead, Andrew took initiative.

He got up and dragged Neil to the bathroom (and yes, Andrew was very calm about the fact that they were holding hands. This was not the time to have a gay panic). He fully ignored Neil’s sputters and questions until he kicked the bathroom door open.

Andrew whirled Neil around until they were facing the mirror. (He did have to go on his toes to see over Neil’s shoulder properly but thankfully Neil was standing in front and couldn’t see Andrew).

“Andrew,” Neil blinked. “What are you doing?”

“Proving to you that you don’t look like that asshole.”

“In the bathroom— ?”

Andrew proceeded to place his arms above Neil’s shoulder and promptly squished Neil’s cheeks.

”See?” Andrew said monotonously. “I bet Nathan never had his cheeks squished.”

Neil was silent for one moment. Two. Andrew was starting to think there may have been more effective ways of improving Neil’s mood, when he saw Neil bite back a smile.

“What?” Andrew demanded. “You really do not resemble a serial killer right now.”

It was true. Neil, with his rough scars and bunched up cheeks and a reddening face from holding back a laugh, couldn’t look less like his sperm donor father.

He looked like… Neil Josten. And Andrew would be a lying homosexual if he said it wasn’t the nicest sight he’d seen.

10.

Neil's legs were beginning to go numb.

There were very few things that Neil wouldn't do for Andrew, and so when Andrew called him over to the sofa, well, Neil couldn't exactly say no! He happily abandoned his essay (that he wasn’t putting too much effort into writing anyway) and climbed into the little opening Andrew made under his blanket, fully prepared to be used as a personal heater for a few minutes.

What he didn't expect, however, was for Andrew to yank him onto his lap and bury his (cold) nose in Neil's neck. Neil smothered a smile and crossed his legs around Andrew's back, running his fingers through Andrew's hair.

That had been 20 minutes ago.

It was a cozy position, sure, but Neil didn't exactly want to fail his classes (and then get kicked off the Exy team. and then die.), so he lightly nudged Andrew's back with a socked toe.

"Andrew," Neil said, voice a bit muffled in Andrew's sweater. "Can I get off now? I have homework."

Neil received no response other than Andrew squeezing him tighter.

It was another 10 minutes until anything changed, but suddenly there was a loud beeping noise. Startled, Neil nearly fell over, but Andrew grabbed him, lifted him up, and promptly walked over to the kitchen.

"Andrew, what— " Neil sputtered in confusion as he scrambled to hold onto something. He was dropped unceremoniously as Andrew grabbed a pair of oven mitts and yanked open the oven, a sweet smell wafting in the air.

Neil stumbled back as Andrew pulled out a few trays of monster sized cookies, placing them on a rack to cool down. After finishing up, Andrew slowly turned around to face Neil.

"Cookies," he said as way of explanation.

Neil didn't know whether to laugh or groan.

"You were so excited to get your cookies out of the oven that you carried me over to the kitchen instead of just telling me to get off your lap."

"Yes."

"Andrew."

"..."

"You better be this excited to go to tonight's night practice— "

"I cannot hear you over the sound of me eating this cookie. Crunch crunch."

"Andrew!"

hii i literally love your headcannons... can you please write Laila and Alvarez hcs? they're so underrated!!

ok yes as it is now pride and these two are my fav lesbians i MUST

so they met their freshman year at USC, when laila tripped over her foot after seeing a hot girl (alvarez) and spilled a coffee all over said hot girl's new white shirt

alvarez proceeded to hate her. even if she was nice to look out. she definitely did not notice that

and because laila does not like to be bested, she decided that alvarez's pretty face would not distract from her annoying personality

their rivalry was the only major point of contention within the trojans — they would constantly bicker in and out of practice

(jeremy, bless his heart, could never figure out when laila and alvarez were flirting or fighting though)

but despite this, they worked wonders on the court

laila was a powerhouse in the goal and alvarez was a relentless backliner

everyone was extremely confused about the nature of their relationship

this on-and-off behavior continued well into their second year

that is, until they got their spring semester classes and laila and alvarez were in the same calculus class

now they actually had to deal with each other, even off the court

they managed to stay out of each other's hair mostly, but one day, alvarez was absolutely stuck on a concept and jeremy was shit at math and office hours were closed and this really wasn't good—

she did the first thing she could and texted laila for help

so laila came over and after some initial awkwardness, they actually started working

and it turns out, laila is really good at explaining math

it turns into a bit of a norm. every wednesday afternoon, they would meet in a café and study together

(and maybe, just maybe, if each week, they began sitting closer and closer to one another, that's really no one's business)

this just slowly happens over the next few months, and one day, it hits the two of them that hey, maybe i actually like her more than a friend?

naturally, laila and alvarez both freak the fuck out at this

so they go to jeremy separately, who is now dealing with two flustered, emotionally-constipated lesbians

laila: jeremy i think i like alvarez. "like" as in i want to date her

jeremy: hmm. maybe you should just tell her?

laila: fucking shit knox are you dumb—

alvarez: jeremy HELP i think i have a crush on laila

jeremy: well, maybe she feels the same way! just tell her that :)

alvarez: you're so goddamn stupid why would i do that—

needless to say, jeremy is extremely overwhelmed.

eventually, he wrangles the two of them together on new year's day at a party

it's minutes to midnight and nearly everyone has a partner, romantic or platonic

laila and alvarez end up pushed up next to each other, surrounded by a bunch of loud, sweaty college kids

but none of that mattered. because with three seconds on the clock, laila and alvarez both felt a surge of courage from jeremy's words

they rushed towards each other just as midnight struck and promptly smashed their noses together

neither of them really expected their first date to be at the ER with swollen, bleeding noses

but hey! there's nothing more romantic than matching ice packs and nose splits, right?

wait so carry on is like... published drarry fanfic right

OK UPDATE (for the mental state of me and @soulsupply): apparently there are 38! states in the US with no safeways, and south carolina has exactly 1. ONE SAFEWAY. which is permanently closed with a 1 star review and disowned by safeway. so. we are going to pretend that it doesn't exist for the sake of this hc

an incomplete list of northern-californian andrew minyard shenanigans

he gets pissed if anyone asks him if he can surf

the beaches are cold and rocky and gross, no one wants to learn surfing up here

he's totally used to weird weather (a 90° day can have a 50° night) but he absolutely cannot stand extreme temperatures

anything above 100° is reason to riot, and anything below a 40-50° is a good excuse to stay under blankets the whole day

hot days are more common in the bay area than hail, and there's never any snow, so moving to south carolina was a slap in the face

"nicky, do i need more warm clothes or more summer clothes?"

"both, andrew. both."

"why do you not have normal weather systems? just pick one"

andrew literally always carries a jacket with him out of habit

in the south, weather can fluctuate every few days, whereas in california, the weather literally changes every hour and there's almost always a breeze in the bay area

it takes him a long time to realize that hot days in the south just... stay hot. no need for a jacket.

(he still usually has one on hand though. never hurts to be prepared)

san francisco is so. goddamn. boring.

he might not have been there very often as a foster kid, but living like 20 minutes away from it in oakland makes the city really lose its novelty

(also the sfo and oakland rivalry can get very passionate at times. he was just always destined to dislike san francisco)

unironically uses the word "hella." he didn't realize it was a californian thing until it accidentally slipped out in front of the foxes and he got some very confused (and gleeful) stares

andrew calls the two main parts of california "norcal" and "socal" (for northern california and southern california). he cannot for the life of him understand why everyone else is so confused

he has a sort of inherent dislike for socal. he may have literally never been there but... the vibes. he just can't stand them

(andrew refers to socal as "fake california" in his head, as many norcal people do)

honestly, he's a pretty environmental person (aside from the smoking). you really can't live in the bay area without being overly conscious about recycling and sustainability

(he'll constantly bully kevin into separating trash, recyclables, and compostables. kevin never had to do that in the nest but andrew? he's very particular about this.

"kevin. how can you say you're healthy when you're making the planet unhealthy?"

"it's really not that big of a deal—" "it is. shut up and recycle.")

andrew absolutely detests the "sunny, warm, beach" stereotype of california, seeing how inaccurate it is for most of the state

neil likes to joke that jeremy and andrew represent the two extremes of california — sunny and bright vs cold and cloudy

andrew does not find this funny

(okay, maybe a little)

the biggest shock he ever faced was that safeway (a grocery store) wasn't a nationwide chain

apparently it's just a california thing

"aaron, if tilda's not going to buy groceries, we will just go to safeway ourselves"

"andrew. there are no safeways here."

"... what"

"i was shocked too"

(it ends up being the first thing the twins bond over when they officially meet)

i would give money to learn how andrew and kevin would react to finding out that neil's first thought upon being told that andrew was gay was that those two were dating. i just-

andrew: what a preposterous idea. i would never date someone who enjoys eating celery

kevin: and i would never date someone that tiny

andrew: day i swear to god-

Hi! There's a headcannon that has been circulating that I never saw fully written, and I love how you characterize the foxes! Basically, Andrew living the setbacks of being short (either privately or publicly), getting frustrated, and Neil comforting him

THIS IS SO FUNNY SKDJFHK also i have always wanted to write a 5+1 so tyvm for this (again, this ended up so goddamn long but. what else is new.)

read "shortcomings (honestly, fuck you tilda)" on ao3 hereeeee

———

1.

Andrew gripped the edges of the counter. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Eye on the prize.

He squinted at the offensively orange mixing bowl that Kevin had placed far too high on the shelf earlier that day. He had planned on baking cookies (for no reason other than that he was bored), and that bowl was his lucky one: every baked good he made using it always rose perfectly.

Andrew had tried everything — stretching as far as he could, trying to move things with his mind, even going as far as going on his toes (after a cursory glance that no one was around).

He eyed the step-stool on the other side of the kitchen. He could always use that and put it back and no one would be the wiser. But no. Andrew was a fully capable adult with a reputation to uphold and he would get that bowl down by himself, dammit.

Andrew had been through hell and back, and then some. He would not be bested by cabinetry.

He rubbed his hands against his shirt before placing them back on the counter and took a running crouch. Andrew bounced lightly on his toes, mentally counted to three, and leapt up, hand reaching forward to grip at the bowl.

For one glorious moment, it really seemed like it would work.

Then the counter whacked Andrew in the gut, he smacked his head against the cabinet, and he slowly slid down to the floor, no bowl in hand.

Hmm. That wasn't supposed to happen.

He jerked his head up to glare at the stupid bowl and promptly felt extremely dizzy, slipping even further until he was collapsed entirely on the floor, limbs splayed.

That wasn't supposed to happen either.

Oh well. If he couldn't ruin his health with cookies, he might as well do it by laying on the most unhygienic piece of property he had ever seen. He supposed this was an acceptable way to go.

Andrew lay there on the dorm floor for a solid 15 minutes, willing the bowl to come down, until he heard the dorm room unlock and the sound of Neil's quiet humming filled the room. He didn't have the energy to get up though, so he flopped his legs around as Neil passed the kitchen to catch his attention.

"Oh, hey Drew," Neil shuffled further into the dorm after giving Andrew a quick glance and smile. A few seconds later, the humming stopped and Andrew saw the outline of Neil's body slowly move back into the kitchen doorway. "Um. Can I ask why you're starfished on the floor?"

Andrew sluggishly pointed upwards. "Bowl. High. Jumped. Fell."

Neil nodded knowingly. Andrew stared at him purposefully. Neil blinked.

Idiot.

"Get it for me," Andrew scowled with a well-aimed kick at Neil's ankles. Neil's eyes widened before filling with mirth. He walked forward and sat down next to Andrew's side, running a hand through his blond hair. Andrew hated himself for leaning into the touch.

"Aww, what's wrong?" Neil cooed. "Can't reach it?"

What a fucking asshole.

Andrew shot Neil a glare — he could admit that it probably wasn't super effective considering that he was on the floor with his not-boyfriend carding his fingers through his hair, but it was the thought that counted, okay! — and Neil gave him an amused look before pushing himself off the ground.

He shuffled around Andrew's limp body before giving an exasperated sigh.

"Andrew."

"Junkie."

"There is a stepstool right here."

"Yes."

"You didn't use it."

"No."

"... Why?"

Andrew shrugged in response.

He heard Neil grumbling under his breath and, a few seconds later, was rewarded with Neil's gross socks in front of his face as he went on the tips of his toes to grab at the bowl. Andrew glanced up and noticed that Neil's shorts were delightfully loose around his thighs.

Nice.

He indulged himself in the view until Neil dropped back down on the balls of his feet, holding the bowl proudly.

"Got it!" he grinned down at Andrew and flopped back down on the floor, pulling Andrew into a sitting position. Neil pressed up against him after a quick 'yes or no?' and handed over the bowl so Andrew.

"That was not fair," Andrew grumbled after a few minutes of calm silence. "You did that so easily. You're barely taller than me."

Neil nudged his shoulder and planted a kiss to the side of his head. "It's okay," he gave an annoyingly soft look. "I'll always be there to help you, whenever you need it."

Andrew huffed. "I did not ask for sentimentality, Josten. Just a bowl."

Irritatingly, this caused Neil to laugh a bit. "Okay, okay, I'll leave you with your precious bowl." He moved to get up and pressed a chaste kiss to Andrew's lips. "But for what it's worth, I think your size is perfect."

He left Andrew missing the warmth of Neil's body beside him before his brain caught up to what Neil just said.

"Josten. Josten! Was that a fucking dick joke?"

2.

There were moments where Andrew desperately wanted to burn Neil's clothing. He understood that they were remnants of past habits that were hard to break, but surely having this many gray and brown shirts had to be criminal.

Andrew refused to be seen kissing such a heathen in public but he really only knew how to put Neil in hot club clothes rather than hot casual clothes. And so, for the sake of humanity (and his dignity), he swallowed his pride and met up with Allison Fucking Reynolds.

Their plan to snatch up Neil from the Exy court to take him shopping at the mall appeared to be going well. So far, they'd bought him some shirts, artfully ripped jeans, denim jackets, and an actually functional pair of shoes. Neil, for all his stamina, looked like he was about to collapse from the weight of the bags, so Allison and Andrew took pity on him and decided to take a lunch break.

The three of them reached the food court and made their way to a noodle shop (after Andrew extracted a promise that he could get some ice cream afterwards). He and Allison sat Neil down on a bench to guard their massive pile of bags before going up to order.

By the time they were at the front of the line, Andrew was fully prepared to stab Reynolds in the middle of the mall. In a span of five minutes, she had managed to ask him about his and Neil's sex life, when they got together, what Neil's exact sexuality was, and had Andrew ever painted his nails?

He resolutely refused to answer any of those questions, on the principle that she didn't need more money from bets than she already had.

They ordered quickly, Andrew eager to get away from Reynolds, when the cashier said something that made him stop in his tracks.

"We actually have a discount right now for kids under 12!" she said smiling. "Is that something you'd be interested in?"

Andrew squinted. Why the hell would they—

Oh. Oh no, no, no.

Allison seemed to come to the same realization that he did, because she smiled wide and tapped her nails against the counter.

"Oh, that's just perfect!" she exclaimed. "Aaron here just turned 11 a few months ago. We'll take the discount."

Aaron?!

Andrew was going to kill her.

He was still planning bloody murder as Reynolds brought their tray of food to the table. He sat down with a scowl, and though Neil shot him a curious glance, he didn't push it.

Stupid considerate junkie.

Andrew muttered a percentage under his breath and proceeded to poke Neil in the cheek with his chopsticks. After a few moments of this, Neil turned to him with a scowl.

"Andrew," he grumbled. "What are you doing?"

Andrew glared at Reynolds.

Neil gave a resigned sigh and turned to her. "Allison. What happened?"

Reynolds smirked. "Oh, nothing much. Just that the cashier thought that your boy was a literal child and gave us a discount for kids 12 and under. I told her that it was great because Aaron over there," she jabbed a finger towards Andrew. "just turned 11."

Neil looked like he was biting back a laugh but then frowned. "Okay, but arms."

"True," Reynolds conceded. "However, consider this: tiny."

The two idiots nodded like they'd figured out some indispensable secret of the universe.

Frustrated, Andrew went back to poking Neil's face; when he finally glanced back, Andrew nudged his arms and shuffled a bit closer. Thankfully, Neil actually got the hint for once and scraped featherlight fingers into Andrew's hair.

"It's okay," Neil tried. "I mean, at the end of the day, all of us are just broke college kids—"

"I'm not," Allison interrupted.

Neil rolled his stupid, pretty eyes. "Okay, most of us are broke college kids—"

"Don't you have a bunch of mafia blood money and stuff?" Reynolds asked.

"Beside the point," Neil huffed. "Fine, Andrew, you are a broke college kid—" "Gee, thanks." "— and so you should be grateful that your height is saving you some money."

"That is dumb."

"You're dumb."

"How creative."

Neil scowled and tugged on Andrew's hair. "Shut up. Drama queen."

Andrew stabbed a piece of stir fry into Neil's mouth to close that damn mouth and resolutely ignored the click of Allison's phone camera.

3.

This was proving to be a problem.

Andrew stared at his $150 jeans, the bottom of the legs frayed and pale. He had just bought these two weeks ago. What a waste of money.

There really was only one thing left to do.

Minutes later, Andrew slammed open the door to his brother's dorm and dragged him out with Aaron demanding to know where they were going. By the time he had wrestled his idiot doppelganger to the car, Andrew was reaching. his. fucking. limit.

"Andrew, if you don't tell me where we're going, I swear I'll bite you. I'll push Neil off a treadmill and dump a bucket of mud on him. I'll throw all your ice cream in the trash. I'll—"

That last one was simply too far. He'd have to give Aaron some ground.

"Get in, loser," Andrew glared. "We're going shopping."

Thankfully, he managed to keep Aaron quiet until they reached the mall by letting him pick the music (it was country! Southern heathen). What a child.

Rich coming from you, a voice told him snidely. You can't even buy clothes for yourself properly.

Shut up, he scolded himself.

"Andrew," Aaron sighed exasperatedly when they reached the parking lot. "Can you finally tell me what we're shopping for?"

They got out of the car and Andrew raised an eyebrow as he faced Aaron. "Sex toys."

"WHAT THE FU— "

Andrew watched his brother's face turn red as he sputtered, before noticing the amusement in his face.

Aaron deflated. "Asshole," he grumped.

"Yeah, that is generally where the dildo goes."

"Shut up. I'm begging you."

Andrew decided to take pity on him and stabbed a finger towards Aaron's legs. "When did you buy those."

Aaron squinted. "My jeans?" At Andrew's nod, he looked confused. "Uh, like three or four months ago maybe. Why?"

Three or four months?! That was simply unacceptable.

"They are still in good quality," Andrew said slowly.

"...Yes?" Aaron looked lost for a few moments before his face brightened with pure, evil glee. Andrew hated the world more in that moment than he ever had before. "Oh my God. Oh my God. Are your jeans too long for you?"

"Be quiet," he snapped. "You just need to show me where you buy yours and never mention this to anyone or I'll stab you."

Aaron didn't seem as concerned as he should have been. "I don't need to do anything, dumbass. Why don't you just cuff them like me?"

"I refuse to look like a bisexual disaster."

"Hey," Aaron looked mildly offended. "That's not a bisexual thing. Right?" At Andrew's blank look, his eyes widened. "No. Oh shit. Is that why guys keep hitting on me at Eden's?"

Andrew actually blinked at that. He had not realized that his brother was really that stupid. "Aaron. Eden's is a gay bar. Obviously men will hit on you."

"Wait, it's a what— "

"Be quiet. You are coming with me now." He dragged his brother to the mall entrance as Aaron bumbled along behind him, swearing incoherently.

They weaved their way through what seemed like a million stores until Andrew walked out hours later, finally satisfied with his new haul of jeans that Aaron had oh-so-considerately helped to pick out, a few hundred dollars poorer, and two churros and an iced coffee fuller.

Andrew trudged up the stairs to his floor (perhaps this was a workout he should regularly implement in his exercise regime) while Aaron split off to find some study group or other.

By the time he reached his dorm, Andrew felt far more exhausted than the situation warranted and he blindly chucked the bags on the sofa, belatedly realizing that Neil was already sitting where the bags would land. Oops.

He sat down by Neil like the throw was entirely intentional as Neil sputtered when the plastic smacked him in the face.

"What's all this?" the junkie questioned. For fuck's sake, why did his eyes have to be so blue?

Andrew just gestured for him to take the clothes out and saw as Neil's face grew confused when he saw what he was holding.

"Jeans? Didn't you literally buy some like a week ago?"

"Two," Andrew corrected, because he was a petty bitch if nothing else. Neil rolled his stupid eyes at that but waited for Andrew to provide an explanation. Andrew heaved a regretful sigh. "The bottom of them are all frayed now"

"Frayed?" the striker's brows furrowed before his face cleared and a shit-eating smirk crossed his face. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying you were too short for your jeans?"

Andrew nearly stabbed him right then and there.

"Shut. Up."

"Oh my gosh. Andrew. Andrew."

When Andrew got up (not grumpily. never grumpily. (okay, maybe a little grumpily)), Neil tugged on his shirt sleeve with an apologetic grin. "Sorry, sorry, I'll stop making fun," but his eyes were squinted as he tried not to laugh and his face was flushed and his lips were red as he bit on them, and honestly, how was Andrew expected to stay annoyed after seeing that?

"I mean," Neil continued. "You're paying with whatever you have left of Tilda's life insurance, right? And it's technically her fault you're so, uh... vertically challenged because of the drugs and shit. So you buying all these jeans are like a big "fuck you" to her!"

Andrew blinked slowly at his not-boyfriend's not-cute not-endearing hand-waving and decided he could take a hit to his reputation if it kept Neil glowing like this. "Josten. Are you saying that being short is literally in my jeans?"

"Holy shit, yes."

4.

To be fair, he had been warned. This was probably his own fault. Which he would never admit, but whatever.

It had started fine enough.

Andrew had been smoking by the windowsill as he waited for Neil to come back from his class. It was raining heavily and he felt a comfortable laze settle in his bones, so he didn't bother to open the window, despite Kevin's complaints.

"Andrew, stop smoking in here. If you want to destroy your lungs, at least do it away from me."

"Shut up and watch your damn Exy, Day."

He shut up and watched his damn Exy.

Andrew let the sounds of the game wash over him as he let his eyes droop (when did Exy become... relaxing to him? That was moderately concerning), so by the time he realized that there was an incessant beeping sound in the background, everything was too far gone to not have gone to shit.

His body finally jolted into action when he finally registered that the smoke alarm was blaring in their dorm and he heard yells coming from outside in the hallway, which probably meant an RA or some other Foxes were about to burst in and see him smoking where he wasn't supposed to. For the third time this month.

Crap.

"Day. Day! Get off your fucking computer and turn off the alarm," he hissed as he (gracefully) scrambled to the kitchen to find a towel.

"Hmm?" Kevin hummed blearily. "Oh. That. Well, I told you so."

Andrew simply could not believe it. (Well, maybe he could a bit. Kevin was just that kind of asshole frie— person.)

By the time he dampened a towel (wow, they really needed to do the dishes sometime soon), the shouts were right outside the door and he heard keys jingling in the lock. Quickly he scrambled up the table, but in his haste, kicked over a glass of water (vodka? Sprite? whatever).

He tripped over slightly and his foot splashed into the puddle on the table, causing him to cringe internally. His sock felt horribly wet and tingly, and it was nearly enough to distract him from the creaking of the door opening. Quickly, he reached up, flapping the towel near the smoke alarm to turn it off.

It wasn't enough. He couldn't reach the alarm.

In a split-second, he decided to just fuck it and leapt up to see if that would work. However, the uncomfortable feeling in his feet and the stupid smoke alarm and the fucking banging of the door made him severely misjudge his strength.

Andrew jumped a lot further forward than he expected. He flew through the air, one foot catching on the top of a chair, the other stabbed by the edge of the table. In a futile attempt to gain his balance, Andrew flailed his arms around, but that just caused the towel to smack him in the face.

Eventually, gravity took hold of him and he (and the chair) crashed into the floor, the towel mockingly flopping on his hair. Blearily, he raised his head up and saw Neil and their RA staring at him concernedly from the doorway.

Well, this was awkward. At least the beeping had stopped.

Their RA, an unfortunately attractive tennis player named Richard Addams (Nicky found it hilarious that their RA's initials were R.A.. Andrew called him 'Certified Dick™'), stepped in cautiously. "Andrew, everything okay?"

"Just peachy," he grumbled.

Neil ran to Andrew's side at the sound of his voice and pushed his blond hair out of his face. "Why peaches? They're honestly not even that good; I can only stand the really big and thick and juicy ones."

Andrew froze and even Kevin closed his laptop that. "Neil," Certified Dick™ said slowly. "Do you know what peaches are?"

"Duh," he rolled his eyes. "Fruit. That's why Nicky has a peach next to my name in his contacts. Because I like fruits."

Idiot.

"It means 'ass,' " Andrew informed him. Neil gaped.

"It means wha— "

"Okay," Certified Dick™ exclaimed cheerfully. "I'm gonna leave y'all here. Andrew, I'll assume you weren't doing anything against the rules because you are a kind person who always listens to what I say."

"Of course," Andrew said blandly. "I am a wonderful student." He fingered the edges of his armbands.

Certified Dick™ slowly backed out of the room.

Neil let out a breath and blew his hair out of his eyes. "Okay," he started. "We'll talk about the ass thing later. But first, what the hell just happened?"

Andrew pointed up at the smoke alarm.

"Well, yes, I got that, but why were you jumping around like an absolute idiot?"

"Kevin is useless," Andrew announced.

"Not true!" Kevin protested immediately. "You just never listen to me. It's not my fault that I'm always right."

Andrew glared at him and turned back to Neil. "I couldn't reach the stupid smoke alarm," he finally gritted out, bracing for someone to mock him.

It never came.

Instead, Neil gave him a cheeky grin and a wink (at least, Andrew assumed it was a wink) and turned to Kevin with a faux-annoyed stare. "Seriously, Kev? You didn't help him?"

"He got himself into his own mess," Kevin shrugged.

"Okay, and what if someone had caught him? They might have not allowed him to play Exy for a bit! Or maybe while he was trying to shut off the alarm, he could have really hurt himself!" Neil was really laying it heavy on the dramatics, brandishing his arms wildly.

Kevin's eyes widened in horror at his words. "Shit."

"Yeah," Neil nodded graveley. "Us Exy players have got to look out for each other. How else will we live to our potentials?"

Kevin looked like he was going to be sick. Quickly, he whipped open his laptop and began muttering questions on how to secretly disable smoke alarms.

"Junkie," Andrew muttered to Neil. Neil just hummed and pressed a kiss to the crook of his neck.

"Yeah," he whispered a few moments later. "Only for you."

5.

Hmm. This was nice.

Andrew never could have imagined he would be the kind of guy to stumble over furniture while kissing his way through a room, and yet, here he was, crashing into tables and upturning chairs and tripping over bags.

He had Neil's fingers intertwined with his and was dragging him through the dorm, the kisses constantly pausing because Neil kept breaking off into small smiles and laughing into his neck. Every few steps, Andrew would take a look at his flushed junkie and absolutely forget about his plan to reach the bedroom, choosing instead to kiss him ferociously right there.

They were lucky that no one else was in the dorm.

When Andrew realized that it had taken them a solid seven minutes to walk about 15 feet past the door, he realized they would probably never reach an actual bed at the rate they were going. He told Neil as much and was rewarded with a shrug.

"I literally don't care where we end up," Neil said breathlessly before pulling him into another heated kiss. "I just wanna kiss you."

Andrew nearly snorted at that. How predictable. "I got that" he muttered. "But what do you want?"

Neil raised an eyebrow and deepened his voice mockingly. "I want nothing."

"You are actually so insufferable."

"Yeah, yeah," Neil waved him off and latched his mouth on Andrew's neck. Fuck. "Hmm," he said a few moments later. "Carry me?"

Andrew resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Ever since the junkie had seen how much he lifted at the gym a few weeks ago, this had become one of his favorite requests (and really, who was Andrew to deny him?).

Nevertheless, he leaned down and grabbed both of Neil's thighs, pushing him up until his legs were secured around Andrew's waist and Andrew could comfortably hold him up, his body flush against Andrew's.

Yeah, he got why Neil liked this so much.

He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to hold Neil up for though, considering that they actually had a game tomorrow and he didn't want to put up with Kevin's annoying complaints if he didn't try at least a bit. Andrew glanced around for a second before his eyes caught on the perfect place.

He adjusted his grip on Neil, causing him to let out an oof in surprise and carefully made his way to the kitchen (with only a slight amount of kissing in the middle). Andrew messily deposited Neil on the island counter and was promptly faced with another problem.

Neil was up there. Andrew was down here. How the hell were they supposed to make out now?

Andrew frowned slightly and tugged at Neil's collar. "Lean down," he commanded.

Neil complied and pressed a searing kiss to his lips, tugging at Andrew's hair, but too soon he pulled back.

At Andrew's 'yes or no?' Neil smiled down sheepishly. "It's a yes, but this angle's going to end up destroying my back."

That made no sense — whenever Andrew sat on the counter, he never had to lean down that much. He reasoned that the weight of being an Exy junkie was finally catching up to Neil's spine, though.

"Well," Andrew huffed. "I'm not going up on my toes."

"Why would you need to go on your toes?" Neil looked genuinely confused as Andrew frustratedly gestured at the air between them. "Wait, wait. Can you not reach me if I'm sitting up here?"

Andrew's thoughts came to a halt.

He pulled back (well, as much as he could while still staying in Neil's arms) and squinted suspiciously at his not-boyfriend. "Can you normally reach me when I sit up?"

"Well, yeah," Neil blinked. "I mean, I have to stretch a little bit but it's usually fine."

What.

Unceremoniously, Andrew yanked Neil off the counter and sat himself up (he pretended not to notice the stare that Neil gave when he flexed his arms). He hooked his ankles around Neil and dragged him closer, coming nearly forehead-to-forehead.

Forehead-to-forehead. Neil could reach him.

Andrew let out an uncharacteristic groan and dropped his head on Neil's surprisingly comfy shoulder. Neil snorted quietly and patted his head.

"It's okay, Drew," he said, his voice muffled but teasing as he pressed a kiss to the top of Andrew's head. "Maybe next time we can get you a stool or something. That'll be real attractive."

Andrew scowled and kicked him in the leg.

Neil's voice softened as he lowered his arms to rub soft circles on his back. "But I'm serious Andrew, it's okay." He pressed a soft kiss to Andrew's collarbone, the underside of his jaw, the corner of his lips. "Does this feel good?"

Andrew swallowed. Hiding from Neil was a fight he knew he'd lose, and there was no point prolonging the inevitable. "Yes."

"Then that's all I need. Making you feel good makes me feel good," he whispered. "I really like this, what we do right now. And if you want, we can still find more positions that feel really good. Don't stress, we have time."

"Hmm," Andrew said a few moments later. "That is all fine and well, but actually, we now only have about 20 minutes until Kevin comes back from class, and I would highly appreciate it if you could get me off sometime soon."

"Asshole. We were totally having a moment."

"Next to a bowl of apples."

"Rude. I bet those apples appreciated the conversation."

Andrew rolled his eyes at Neil's idiocy, but kissed him hard to convey everything he felt: you care, you listen, you are okay with me, you are safe for me. Neil seemed to get the message, because his body softened under Andrew's grip as he kissed him back eagerly.

When they finally pulled apart, Andrew felt heavy and sated and secure in the way he only associated with Neil. He looked into Neil's blown-out pupils, the blue peeking brightly at the edges of his eyes as he slowly brought Neil's hand to the waistband of his jeans.

"Right," Andrew tried for a nonchalant tone. The slight voice-crack may have betrayed him, but whatever. "Take off my pants now?"

+1

South Carolina winters were shit.

Growing up in Oakland meant that he was pretty used to cold winters and hot summers, but usually things only got unbearably chilly at night, when he could pile tons of blankets on himself. Unfortunately, winters in the South brought biting wind and snow. All day long.

Andrew hated the cold (sure, he could walk around with a blanket draped over him like a cape in his dorm (he did. occasionally), but alas, he actually had a reputation to uphold)

And yet, when Nicky and Dan enthusiastically told Neil about their stupid plan and Neil had sent a stupid questioning gaze to Andrew's stupid face, he sure as fuck couldn't use "the cold" as an excuse to deny those eyes.

So he bundled up into a turtleneck, a sweater, a thin jacket and a snow one, a beanie, a pair of gloves, leggings and then sweatpants, and his warmest socks (Andrew decidedly ignored Neil's snickers, who was annoying dressed in just a long-sleeved shirt and jeans. how rude.)

The so-called Monsters trampled down to the parking lot outside the Tower, boots sinking deep into the snow. Andrew shivered at the sudden wind and if he walked a little closer to Neil's hot warm body — well, no one needed to know.

Within seconds of their arrival, Andrew was regretting coming out.

A massive snowball soared through the air and slammed into Aaron's face, who promptly fell on his ass from the force of it.

"What the fuck?" he sputtered, wiping snow out of his eyes.

"HA!" Reynolds hollered. "Take that!"

"Oh dear," Neil muttered. "I didn't expect this much violence from the start."

"We are Foxes," Andrew scoffed. "Violence is the whole point."

"Actually, there's this one piece of shit in my Stats class and he tried to tell me I was wrong — I wasn't, by the way — and instead of punching him, I just very mathematically proved how incompetent he was and I told him that his parents' miscalculation when it came to conceiving him evidently got passed on to him in the form of his nonexistent math skills. So. No violence."

Andrew wasn't sure if he should kiss Neil or smack him. "Right. Because verbal annihilation is a very tame response."

"Since when have you been such a peacemaker?"

"Renee."

"You two literally beat the shit out of each other every week."

Andrew shrugged. "Semantics."

"I really don't think— "

Their conversation was rudely interrupted by Matt throwing a snowball mere inches away from Andrew's face. At his glare, Matt promptly ran behind a car.

"Neil," Andrew sighed. "I hate you."

"I didn't force you to be here," Neil pointed out. "Could've said no. What did Nicky call you? 'Whipped.' So ha." With that profound statement, Neil ducked and dumped a handful of snow down the back of Andrew's shirt.

"Ha," Andrew said back smugly. "Layers." Neil looked betrayed.

"Layers. I forgot."

"I didn't."

"Asshole."

"Yup."

Neil scowled and kicked at Andrew's highly sturdy snow boots petulantly. Andrew refrained from rolling his eyes turned towards him. "Yes or no?"

"Oh," Neil perked up. Junkie. "Yes, yes."

Andrew jabbed him in the stomach and when Neil keeled over groaning, he pressed a kiss to his lips and shoved his head under Neil's chin.

"Personal heater," Andrew explained. Then he grabbed Neil's arms and tucked them around his waist. This was good.

"Right," Neil snorted. "Naturally. I can't wait until someone throws a snowball at your face and you get all cold and wet."

Andrew scowled. How rude.

"Oi, Minyard!" Dan called and Andrew sighed before wiggling around until he was facing her, back flush against Neil's front. "This is for drawing mustaches all over the pictures in the Court!"

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "You have no proof— "

His protests were cut off with the sight of a snowball hurtling full speed at him. He made to jump out of the way (maybe Exy was good for something after all), but Neil's arms around him proved to be a real hindrance.

As it was, he got jerked back into place, the snowball inches in front of him. Andrew shut his eyes, hoping he could use this as an excuse to drag Neil into the dorm to warm up, when he heard an "oof" from behind him.

Andrew twisted around to find Neil's face covered in an explosion of snow, water dripping down his shocked expression.

His eyelashes were nice. Hmm.

"Wh- What?" he shivered. "How is there snow on my face? Wasn't it supposed to land on you?"

Oh.

Andrew brushed off some snow that had settled on his cheekbones before stepping back a bit (still in Neil's arms. that was necessary). And Neil was right, it was odd, the snowball was supposed to hit him and instead, it had smashed itself on Neil.

"I believe," Andrew said slowly. "My height has proved to be advantageous."

"Advan— you mean you were so short the snowball literally missed you and hit me?!"

"Yup," Andrew felt extremely self-satisfied. "See, had you been shorter, this wouldn't have happened. Alas, there's just more of you to hit when you're tall."

"That— I— Andrew!"

"That's my name."

"Ugh. I am cold and wet and very much not liking this," Neil grumbled.

"Bet you wish you had as many jackets as me, huh?" Andrew crowed.

"You could always give one of them to me," Neil said as he yanked Andrew back against him.

"I could. Not feeling it, though."

"Bastard."

"Just a little," Andrew agreed. He tilted his head up to look at Neil and oh, that angle was good, his lips were right there, how did Andrew never notice that Neil's eyelashes framed his eyes so nicely?

Hmm. If this was the view, maybe his height had some... unforeseen perks that extended beyond snowball fighting.

"I win," Andrew told Neil seriously. At his confused expression, Andrew was forced to sigh out an explanation. "You are very pretty from down here."

"Oh?"

"Shut up."

"I think you're pretty too."

"198%."

"Kiss me?"

"Ugh, if you insist."

Andrew leaned up to press his lips to Neil, dutifully ignoring the cheers from behind him, as Neil placed a hand under his chin to tilt him up further, which felt very nice.

Yeah, Andrew was living the good life. He had a maybe-boyfriend who was the perfect height and a brother and cousin who might actually stay, and he was content and safe and— really fucking cold because there was a ball of snow sliding down his neck what the fuck what the fuck what the fu— .

"NICKY."

"Shit. Sorry!"

andreil and goodbye kisses (pt. 7) ft. allison

parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 good lord why have i stretched this one concept out for so long skdflskj || part 8

allison thinks — nay, knows — that neil josten is just the cutest human being alive. certainly a badass. very threatening. will bite when provoked.

but still very cute. adorable. squish, if you will.

(also, have you seen those eyes??)

she likes to believe she is the mother hen of the newborn chick — the startled bambi — that is neil josten

and so, as an experienced, highly intellectual person, she... questions neil's taste in men

allison worries that andrew is just stringing neil along, ready to drop him whenever he pleases

(renee insists this is not the case, but what does renee know?)

anyways, allison concludes that andrew must be put to the test to confirm that he is good enough for her precious (and slightly rude) child

now, allison isn't one to perpetuate stereotypes, but andrew is a well-dressed gay man with plenty of experience in dressing up neil nicely

and, as the self-crowned queen of fashion, she knows that clothes can tell a lot about an individual

(for example, her clothes are wonderful, which means that she is flawless)

so allison decides that going clothes shopping with andreil (she cannot thank nicky enough for coming up with that ship name) is the only way to truly see if andrew is good enough for neil

so she plans. and one thursday evening, she corners andrew and neil and tells them what's going down

"neil. you and your boy— " "he's not my boy" "you and your boy will join me this saturday to go shopping at the mall. any questions?" "yes, actually— " "great, i'll see you then!"

to her surprise, andrew actually shows up with neil on saturday, twirling his car keys with a bored expression

"minyard. you are not driving"

"alright then. neil, let's go back to to bed"

"okay okay fine you can drive"

allison, with great dignity, regales herself to backseat passenger. at least this way she has a perfect view of the heart eyes transpiring between andrew and neil

(and if she sneaks in a couple of pictures of them — well, no one needs to know)

they finally reach the mall and allison is ready to start her sneaky observations

first: she spots a cute pink sweater in an egregiously bright shop window and drags neil inside, checking conspicuously if andrew follows him

he does

pleased, allison browses through the store, plucking the sweater she originally saw to try on later

after a little more looking, she emerges from the dressing room to show off the sweater to neil

"well neil? how do i look?"

"oh uh. pretty? andrew, how does she look?"

andrew sweeps an impassive gaze over her and promptly turns around without a word

allison is outraged. how dare he simply ignore neil! does he not think neil is important enough to respond to? does he not care at all? how can he just— oh

andrew returns with a pale blue sweater she had seemingly missed and throws it at her face

she goes back in to try it with a huff. surprisingly (and annoyingly), this one looks even better than the pink one did

she buys the blue one. but andrew's still on thin fucking ice

second: after the sweater fiasco, she leads andreil over to a shoe store. allison * very deliberately * walks through the men's footwear, hoping andrew will take notice of something he likes there for neil, before making her way to the women's section

she tries on a few sandals, showing them off to neil, and andrew wanders off in the middle of her runway strut

(she can't understand why. he might be gay, but surely he can still appreciate her legs, right?)

her questions are answered after andrew emerges from an aisle carrying a navy blue box, placing it in front of neil

neil stares at it. andrew kicks him in the shin

"oh am i supposed to wear it?"

andrew rolls his eyes and bends down, switching neil's old sneakers for a new pair of running shoes he found

allison nearly coos at the sight of the terrifying andrew minyard tying his boyfriend's shoelaces with such a focused look

neil loves the shoes. allison buys them for him. and maybe she approves of andrew just a little bit more

third: after a few more stores, allison is at the final stop of her experiment — clothes shopping for neil

she spends an agonizingly long hour searching for clothes neil might actually wear, but when she goes to give it to him, he's nowhere to be found

frantically, she combs through the store again, already thinking of private investigators to hire to find him

suddenly, allison spots his bright hair against the wall in the far corner of the store

she races over there, ready to give neil a piece of her mind for worrying her, until she sees what he's up to

he's kissing andrew. but it's not heavy making-out, it's not anything too explicit. it's just very adorable kissing

(allison has to bite back a laugh when she notices that andrew has to go on his toes to reach neil)

she goes to pull out her phone, but the clothes in her hand rustle, causing neil to glance her way

he winces at the massive pile of clothes, but presses a kiss to andrew's lips, then nose, before gingerly taking the clothes to try on

allison squints at andrew upon seeing the nose kiss. he scowls at her and promptly walks away in the direction neil left to

allison considers the sight she just saw. surely andrew wouldn't be willing to be so openly soft if he was just playing neil, right? right.

(damn, maybe renee did know some things after all)

allison gives a pleased smile — maybe andrew really is okay for neil — before suddenly remembering the bet that she's probably going to lose soon

but she doesn't mind losing some money anymore; she has plenty of it

all allison wants is for neil to be happy. and if andrew brings him happiness— well, she doesn't really understand neil's taste, but she supports it anyway

fuck. when did she get so soft?

what ap exams are you taking! i’m skipping most of mine and just taking physics 2 and apes (-ttyl blog <33)

um well i’ve already done 2 and then i have apcs a and apush next week i’m very much regretting not skipping them

hey uh— never done something like this before but send me a number and i'll... do something with it? (lmao there's a 99% chance that this will all be andreil but that's fineeee)

physical affection prompts!

pats on the head

interlocking pinkies

smiling into a kiss

a hug after not seeing someone for a long time

giggly cuddles

chasing someone’s lips after they pull away

squishing their cheeks

brushing hands by accident

wiping away someone’s tears

lifting someone up out of excitement

back hugs

an incredibly loud and painful high-five

kissing someone’s forehead

play wrestling

the biggest, warmest hugs

kissing knuckles

tugging on the bottom of someone’s shirt

wiping away food from someone’s lips

peppering their face in kisses

chest bump

accidentally knocking your head into someone’s chin

kissing someone’s cuts/bruises/scratches

a hug that some might consider as ~too long~

confusing a handshake for a fist bump

playfully biting someone

bonus: touching feet and immediately screaming and recoiling