#tfcdiscord

[mochawlw]

what the fuck did i find in my notes

[fearne-callogay]

[mini-minish]

Wolfsong • Meet Joe! 🐾

“He took my face in his hands and squished my cheeks together. “Why do you smell like that?” he demanded. “Where did you come from? Do you live in the woods? What are you? We just got here. Finally. Where is your house?” He put his forehead against mine and inhaled deeply. “I don’t get it!” he exclaimed. “What is it?” And then he was crawling up and over my shoulders, feet pressed against my chest and neck until he clambered onto my back, arms around my neck, chin hooked on my shoulder.”

[palmettofoxden]

The Phantom of the Exy Court is heeerreee

Kevin gets injured and can’t play exy anymore and needs to keep out of sight of the Moriyamas.

So he goes into hiding at his father’s court, even though Wymack doesn’t know about him, because he needs somewhere to hide and he wants to be close to a court still.

He might not be able to play himself anymore.

But that doesn’t stop him from creepily training Neil at night.

Neil is aware that this is sketchy.

And this ghost is pretty mean, but it has good advice so...

Kevin keeps referring to himself as a ghost and dead because he’s dramatic and exy is life.

When Neil takes him seriously Kevin is like uhhhhhh what?

If you don’t play well enough or take exy seriously enough then whoopsie Kevin tries to injure or scare you because you don’t deserve to play over him.

He likes scare tactics like take it seriously or quit the team afraid of the ghost that’s out to get you.

Andrew: *says bad things about exy to bait the ghost* Kevin: *is busy eating the lunch he stole from Wymack, but feels a shiver up his spine even though he can’t hear Andrew*

Kevin probably eventually comes out of hiding because ghost tactics won’t work on Andrew and he wants to yell at him to take exy seriously.

So Kevin, what have you been up to since the tragic injury that took you out of the game? Oh, you know, hiding in the walls of my dad’s court without him knowing about me or that I’m there, training a serial killer’s son so I can play vicariously through him... Usual retired player stuff...

[m1nyards]

Social Media AU (½) - Neil Josten’s snapchat

My gift to @blurredmxnds for the tfc discord winter exchange! 

Happy Holidays Mika♡ 

[brewdarrymore]

DO Y’ALL LIKE AQUARIUMS? DO Y’ALL LIKE ANDREIL? BOY HAVE I GOT SOME HEADCANONS FOR U

so. andrew takes neil to an aquarium for his birthday

neil has never been to an aquarium before so he’s excited because he loves trying new things and figuring out how to Be Neil Josten and live like a normal person

andrew likes aquariums bc of some sad reasons involving his childhood in foster homes that we won’t get into rn

his enjoyment of them has kind of been tainted by his trauma but he thinks that with neil he can learn to love them again and reclaim this thing that used to bring him joy

so they go to the aquarium

they do the whole thing, stopping at every single exhibit, beginning to end

neil loves the penguins and the otters, he thinks they’re funny and he spends almost half an hour in front of their exhibits watching them play

andrew pretends to be annoyed but lbr he’s just happy to see neil laughing

andrew likes the shark tunnel, it’s his favorite thing in the whole place, followed by the jellyfish exhibit

when they’re in the shark tunnel, they stand there and watch the sharks swim above their heads and all around them and andrew just feels so calm watching them swim by

neil is fascinated by them, and even more fascinated by the look of peace on andrew’s face

andrew makes them wait there until everyone else is gone, and then he kisses neil in the cool glow of the reflection from the water

it’s a picture perfect moment

and then neil takes out his camera (because he is a photographer in canon now THANKS NORA) and takes a picture

he gets andrew’s face framed by the light of the shark tunnel and it becomes one of his favorite pictures in the world because andrew doesn’t even look annoyed, he’s got that soft just-been-kissed look on his face and he looks so calm

they hold hands the rest of the way through the aquarium

they stop and look at the jellyfish for a while, and that’s really calming too because everything is kind of glowing and it’s just quiet and peaceful

it’s also an off-season day so there aren’t a lot of people around to begin with

they do that thing with the touch tank where they put their hands in the water to feel the backs of stingrays and neil’s eyes just get wide and he goes “whoa, that’s really cool”

listen i love neil discovering new things that he loves

and i love andrew showing him these things and helping him figure out who he is

so then eventually they get to the end, and to the gift shop

andrew buys neil some cute penguin merch, and neil insists he can buy it himself but it’s his birthday and this is part of his present

so neil buys andrew a shark keychain for his car keys, and a shark tooth necklace

andrew wears it every day after that

when they’re driving home, andrew takes neil’s hand over the glovebox. neil is smiling and happy and just so bright and he says softly, “thank you”

andrew responds a few minutes later, and he just says “happy birthday”

after that, they make it an annual tradition to go to the aquarium on neil’s birthday and andrew replaces his old memories of them with newer, happier ones

the end

i love my boys and i love them soft goodnight

[andrewjostenzarchive]

Andrew stares blankly at the piece of paper in front of him, a pen lying right next to it. It was Renee's suggestion. Of course Renee's. She meant that he should write a letter to him. Let out his feelings. But you can't send a letter to the dead and you can't let out feelings when you only feel nothing.

Nothing.

Andrew remembers when the nothing turned into a this, when a shared room ended in a shared apartment with cats.

He tries to swallow the lump in his throat, but fails. He hates this.

With a grim mien he takes the pen, spins it in his hand, stares at the blank page again.

He was never good with words; they are merely just letters in random orders. They are on the tip of his tongue and he feels like they are choking him.

In the end, he just writes down nine words. The only words that matter. He crumbles the letter and throws it in the trash bin before leaving the room to smoke.

He wrote:

Neil Abram Josten,

thank you. You were amazing.

Andrew

[svragent]

This is my gift for @charlie-burton as part of the @tfcdiscord winter exchange. I hope you enjoy it!

Neil drops his keys on the table the moment he gets through the door, and staggers into the living room, leaving the lights off. It’s dark. He doesn’t care. He blindly stumbles to the sofa, collapsing onto the cushions, and gasps for breath. There’s a tingling in his muscles as his body struggles for oxygen, and his visions whites out as he fights the panic.

If only Andrew were here. Neil clutches at the back of his neck, trying to calm himself down, yet it only serves to make him more distressed. God he misses him. The way he can ground Neil with a single touch, and with a few well-placed words he can bring Neil back from the brink. He gasps for air as the aching in his chest increases, both from lack of oxygen and lack of Andrew.

There’s a nudge against his fingers. A wet nose sniffing at his fingers, then the tip of a tongue licking his hand. The brush of fur against his skin startles Neil into his next breath, and as Sir jumps down into his lap, purring and kneading his legs, he buries his other hand into her fur. It helps distract him from the missing presence at his side, and the day’s events; gradually his breathing steadies, and Sir is settled into his lap, warm on his thighs.

Neil scratches at her head. “Thank you.”

She gives a trill of satisfaction and licks again at his hand.

Neil sighs. He leans back into the sofa, eyes closing, and thinks of the disaster that was today. Practice had been tiring and stressful enough, but apparently something new had come to light about his father, another murder, and the press were having a field day. It seems like it will be another weekend toughing it out in the safety of their apartment, although having Andrew here would really help. But Neil has managed to last a full month without him so far, and should be able to manage another week before his boyfriend’s return. It’s not like he expects Andrew to drop everything just for him.

Andrew doesn’t call until a few hours later, and it’s obvious he’s just finished practice from the tired edge to his voice. Neil greets him warmly, and Andrew’s gruff voice softens a little.

“I just heard,” Andrew says. He pauses a moment. “How are you?”

Neil rubs at Sir’s ear with a knuckle. Between the softness of her fur and the sound of Andrew’s voice, his body finally relaxes, the tension easing out of his muscles in a single exhale. “I’m...coping,” he says.

Andrew is trying to decipher that, judging by the long silence that follows. The phone picks up the sound of his breath and, with his eyes closed, Neil can almost pretend that Andrew is in the room with him.

“You will phone me,” Andrew says eventually, “if you need anything.”

Neil makes a vague noise in assent.

“Neil.” His tone is uncharacteristically frustrated.

“I will.” It’s just a week, he can go without worrying Andrew more than he already has. It’s just a week. He won’t need to call.

Andrew gives in and changes the topic. He ends the call far too soon with another reminder to phone him if Neil needs him, and then the line goes dead. The abrupt cut to silence jolts him into real life, and as he opens his eyes to the dark emptiness of his apartment, Neil feels more alone than he had to start with.

He gives Sir a final pet and pushes his negative thoughts aside. It’s just a week.

It’s just a week.

A week is longer than Neil had assumed.

By Wednesday, he is already close to breaking point. He’s snapping at anyone who irritates him in practice, and as soon as he’s seen outside he’s swarmed with reporters all wanting his opinion on recent events. His phone calls to Andrew are the only light moments in an otherwise difficult week, and although Sir and King provide some semblance of comfort, they aren’t what he needs.

Despite all of this, the second panic attack catches him off guard.

From the moment he wakes up that day, Neil knows it will be tough. His skin crawls despite the vigorous scrub he gives his body in the shower, and his scars itch. Phantom hands slide over his cheek, and the ghost of a burn has him brushing fingers over the marks. Throughout practice he can feel the pressure building, the stress stretching him tight until eventually he snaps. He barely makes it through the door to their apartment before he’s collapsing against the wall, clutching at his throat, trying to keep breathing despite the iron grip that anxiety has on him. Throughout the blind panic he manages to locate his phone, hits the first number on speed-dial and is so thankful when his call is immediately picked up.

“Andrew,” he gasps. “I can’t- Andrew.”

“What happened,” Andrew says. Neil can barely hear him through the roaring in his ears.

“I-” He’s fighting to speak through breaths. His heart is racing a thousand miles an hour.

Luckily, Andrew seems to understand. He always understands; he seems to know exactly what Neil needs without even being told. His tone isn’t gentle when he speaks, and his words aren’t exactly registering, but Neil can read his emotions no matter what form, and the concern and care for him is evident. He focuses on Andrew’s breathing and tries to match him, until eventually his panicked gasping slows, and his numb arms are fading to a tingle.

“Sorry,” Neil says when he’s caught his breath. He’s shaking now, though sitting in the drafty hallway probably doesn’t help.

“Don’t apologise,” Andrew snaps out. There’s an audible sigh of exasperation on the other side of the line and Neil once again feels guilty for causing his boyfriend this much trouble. “Where are you right now?”

“Home.”

“Good. Go take a bath, order some takeout, try to relax.”

Neil hums, still trembling. A bath sounds good to his tired body.

“I’ll be there in a few hours. Don’t wait up for me.”

“What?” All the racing thoughts in his head go silent. “You can’t! You have practice-”

“You told me you were coping,” Andrew interrupts. “You are obviously not coping. My team will be fine without my presence for a few days.” A pause. “Five hours max. I’ll be there by twelve.” Andrew waits for Neil’s tired ‘ok’ before hanging up.

Neil takes a bath like instructed, letting his muscles relax under the warm water, and stays submerged until the water turns cold. He does stay up much later than he usually would though despite Andrew telling him not to, King curled at his side while Sir wanders around making enough noise to balance out the silence. Finally, after what seems like years, the lock clicks and a familiar figure crosses the threshold.

Neil is in the hallway before Andrew has even made it through the door. Andrew doesn't take off his shoes or coat. As soon as he spies Neil he opens his arms in invitation, a ‘yes’ in every inch of his body, and Neil falls into the embrace; the pain in his chest vanishes immediately, soothed by the feeling of right right right. There's a million words in the way Andrew holds him close, in the way Neil clutches him tight, and yet no words are close to what they feel in that moment.

Neil whispers his name, breathing in his scent (familiar, home). Andrew presses a kiss to his temple and pulls him in closer.

After an age they pull apart reluctantly. Andrew hands over Neil's coat after a moment and Neil gets the hint, tugging on his shoes. There's something nostalgic about this, a familiar ritual that they used to do in college whenever one of them needed some time to regroup their thoughts. Andrew drives them far away, slipping his hand into Neil's over the centre console, brushing a kiss against his scarred knuckles and Neil allows himself to get lost in the sensation of lips on skin, the rhythmic hum of the car, the dark night sky that engulfs him until all he feels is numb. Eventually the stars begin to show as they leave behind the city pollution, finally stopping in the middle of nowhere.

Andrew gets out and Neil follows his lead. Jumping onto the car hood, Andrew lights a cigarette and slides an arm around Neil's waist when he joins him. Neil leans into him, head resting against Andrew's shoulder. The stars burn bright above them.

Neil can't believe he's here. He watches his boyfriend rather than the sky, drinking in the sight of him, feeling more at ease than he has been over the past few weeks. Andrew catches him staring and flicks at his forehead, but ducks down to kiss him slowly, taking his time pulling Neil apart and piecing him back together. They pull back for air but Neil can't resist stealing one last kiss.

There's something about watching the stars that makes Neil feel so small. It helps him put things in perspective, reorganise his thoughts. His father is dead. Nathan cannot hurt him anymore. Nathan no longer matters. What does matter is his will to keep living, and the man who sits next to him, who has been and will continue to be there at the time he needs him most. Andrew Minyard is his world and, at least for now, Neil has him at his side.