Hey idk if you are still looking for prompts because I scrolled pretty far back, but if so, how about "that's the dumbest shit I've ever heard let's do it" or ”it’s a long story that involves a lot of blood, a couple squirrels, and one hell of a headache” for any of the foxes? Thanks, I love love love your writing and I've really enjoyed looking through your blog!
I’m always accepting prompts! And thank you so much for the lovely compliments! I hope you enjoy! This is basically a shitpost in fic form. It’s a crack fic. I’m not even sorry.
Also you probably need to suspend a lot of disbelief for this; just roll with it
“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard; let’s do it”
Neil is still trying to get the hang of his new phone. Nicky had insisted that he upgrade to this century and had practically dragged Neil to the mall to purchase an iPhone. The rest of the Foxes were more than happy about the change, some money even exchanging hands, but there’s so much going on with his phone now. Before, all Neil had to worry about were text messages and phone calls, but now there’s a bunch of apps that Nicky keeps trying to teach him. He thinks he’s starting to get a handle on Snapchat thanks to the daily snaps from Allison. At the very least, he’s no longer confused by the way they disappear after opening them. And Instagram seems easy enough, so Neil tries to keep track of that so he can see Renee’s posts from around the world.
Neil can admit that the ESPN app is great. It’s set up to send him notifications for Exy news and score updates. It’s that app that is currently dinging at Neil as he makes his way across campus. The trade deadline is coming up for the National Exy League, and Neil’s been trying to keep up and follow the changes. After Neil reads the latest update, the striker tries to see the current NCAA standings, but his new phone isn’t cooperating. He bats at the screen a few times, but when it finally switches over to NCAA Exy, it’s the news page. Neil lets out a frustrated noise and is about to just give up when a headline catches his eye.
Neil scrolls through and reads the article the whole way back to Fox Tower. He still has his phone out and the page open as he unlocks the door to his dorm. The room is full of people, but Neil has learnt to be unsurprised by that. Nicky and Aaron are in the beanbags, a video game of some sort blaring on the television. Kevin is sprawled out on the couch with his laptop in his lap while Andrew is perched on his desk by the window.
“Hey, Neil,” Nicky greets, not taking his eyes off the game he’s playing. “How was class?”
“Did you guys know someone tried to steal the University of Texas’ mascot last night? Not the costume; the actual longhorn.”
“How unoriginal,” Nicky says. “That’s like the oldest prank in the book. I mean everyone’s—”
Nicky cuts off as he finally draws his eyes away and meets Neil’s, his face contorting into a mix of guilt and regret. The backliner opens his mouth again, but whatever rambling remedy was on the tip of his tongue, he swallows it down and snaps his lips shut. When no one else in the room has anything to add, Neil resigns himself to his desk. He can feel Andrew’s eyes boring into his cheek, but the striker focuses on outlining his upcoming essay until practice.
The news story gets forgotten, blurred away by drills and bickering freshmen and a scrimmage. But it’s still nestled a place in the back of Neil’s mind, niggling in the periphery of his thoughts persistently. By the time he’s changing out after practice, it’s made its way back to the forefront.