#kevin and jeremy btw

[redrageoused]

wip im scared to put on twitter because im feeling insane a little :3

[ohsleepie]

I saw something very cute and got inspired. The kevjerejean groupchat is perpetually on my mind

Inspired By

[phantomraekens]

based on the "do you think exy twt has ship wars?" tweet

what part is this? I suppose 3 first prev

[falafels]

pt.36!! <pt.35 pt.37>

survived TGR and we are BACK BABY

dan wilds with the understatement of the century ❤️

the brother seth was texting was ricky (gordon family exposition here)

tags for the homies ❤️ @andrewsleftarmband @blurryhour @you-know-i-get-itt @notexactlythatgirl @longspacerat @tessasilverswan @minyard-05 @carbon-dated-gal @bisexualchaosdemon @stormiiflies @watercoloureyes01 @vampire-overlord @iron-sides @azure-wing @buffalo-fox @ohgodnotagainplease @pink-hydrangea @jaywalkerss @ohmynoggin-blog @cosmic-marauder @min-getoutofmy-yard @plazybones @disastersappho @leestars13 @the-witch-forever-lives @minyardsss @post-historical-posts @andabuttonnose @hidinginmyhands @aftg4l @allfor-thegames @kaleidoskuls

[inadvisablebutinevitable]

I think that in the future when the US court for Exy is first announced and the entire internet is talking about the roster, some reporter will go up to Neil and be like “so how does Kevin feel about being on a team with so many gay athletes? between you and Minyard, Alvarez and Dermott, and Knox and Moreau, there are three gay couples on the US team, some fans are speculating that it is perhaps too many—“

and then Neil cuts him off and goes “yeah, and between me and Jean there are two children of mobsters on the fbi watchlist. Between Andrew and Jeremy there are two convicted felons, and between me, Kevin, and Jean, there are three former perfect court members who said fuck that and got our tattoos removed or replaced. We can all count buddy”

Neil loses his press privileges before practices even start

[kevjeanday]

One of my favorite tweets about Kevin & Jean

[zombiecowboy65]

Something something Jean who wanted Kevin to see more than the court, Jeremy who says exy’s just a game. Jean who wanted Kevin to be angry about the abuse instead of being guilty, Jeremy who’s enraged every time he learns something new about the nest

[sapphicpipedream]

i love the easy affection cat gives jean, especially her little kisses soooo hc that jean starts getting used to reciprocating those kisses. like when they’re cooking tgt cat passes him an ingredient he needs and he absentmindedly kisses the top of her head. she gives him a ride somewhere on her bike and he kisses the side of her helmet as a thank you. maybe he starts doing it to other people too. laila takes him book shopping or something and he kisses her head when she offers (demands) to pay. the first time he does it to jeremy he turns so red and forgets how to speak. cat and laila never let jeremy hear the end of it.

[xxxregulusblackxxx]

"Tell your fanboy we said hello"

"Our fanboy" Jeremy reminded him with a laugh

HE KNOWS?! HE KNOWS AND HE'S SOMEHOW NOT FUCKING KEVIN DAY?! IF KEVIN DAY WAS MY FANBOY YOU BETTER BELIEVE I'D BE FUCKING HIM! I'D GET HIM PREGNANT!

HE LIKES WYMACK ON THEIR FIRST MEETING?! SIR THATS YOU'RE FATHER IN LAW

[minnnoru]

dear diary, today i was angry because i got attached to a traumatized fictional exy player and now i can’t move on

[mooniism]

this is how i look when i try to explain the plot of aftg to my friends

[voltoro]

this is what actually happened at the banquet

trust me

this is @zombiecowboy65’s idea :)

also earlier today i saw that someone drew this exact same scene with andreil, with a similar caption to what i wanted to put for this one and it felt like my neurons connected to theirs

[rederiss]

I don’t know what this thing is called but I am able to see colors with people and it extends to characters as well.

Here are my colors for a few of the AFTG characters:

Neil Josten: Crimson Red

Kevin Day: Dark Green

Andrew Minyard: Royal purple

Renee Walker: Lavendar

Jeremy Knox: Pale Yellow

Jean Moreau: Dark Blue

[odysseus-day]

i can't stop thinking about the absolute fucking tragedy of jeremy's first banquet, so i may have started a new pre-canon fic... noah wilshire, my beloved, trust and believe i will oc-ify you just like i did the moment i found out jean had a little sister. ❤

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64112020/chapters/164499778

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Hi, could you do number 3 for keremy and 4 for kevjean from aftg for the kiss prompts? Or If nit then could you do a French kiss or forceful kiss for number 25 for kevjean? Thanks <3

why not all of the above?

i'm a jerejean and (k)andreil truther at heart and thinking about kevjean in particular only ever hurts me (but i still do it a lot), so i tend not to venture there much, but for you, it's okay this once <3 so i hope the dynamics are alright and you enjoy!

3. Firm Kiss (Keremy)

Kevin was a wonder on the court. He was graceful and effortless, his muscles moving deliciously with every twist and stretch. It was all for the game, but Jeremy didn't focus on that. He was less interested with watching the scoreboard and more with watching Kevin's face in its fierce focus, Kevin's body in its flawless flow.

Off the court, Kevin was just as much of a wonder, but much less aware of it. Jeremy made it a point to remind him.

“They won't like me,” Kevin was saying, again. 

Jeremy very pointedly did not roll his eyes or sigh, and did smile fondly. “They already do.”

“Is that not your name?”

“They like Kevin Day.”

Kevin scoffed. “It's a persona. Me, it's not—I'm not…” He lifted one hand off the counter he was leaning back against and waved vaguely. 

Jeremy knew exactly what he meant, but there was no point having this argument. The real Kevin was not perfectly poised, was not an effortlessly charming person with an even more charming smile. His press image was nowhere near his true personality, but Jeremy had never seen that as a bad thing. Neither side of Kevin was unlikable, as far as he was concerned. He could make the argument that they were similar that way, that in fact he was worse, that while he tried to have a sunny personality in both his public and private life the truth of him was twisted and ugly, but Kevin wouldn't hear it. Jeremy never got anywhere putting himself down to Kevin. Kevin should've known by now that this worked both ways. 

“That would be a stupid waste of money.”

Jeremy pushed further into Kevin's space, trapping him against the counter, bracketing him with his arms. “You're not as proper as that, which they'll appreciate. Some of them would pay good money to hear Kevin Day swear, you know.”

“Not to mention boring,�� Jeremy agreed easily. “There are much more entertaining ways to draw those out of you.”

Kevin's eyes narrowed. “You're trying to distract me.”

“Is it working?”

Kevin gave him an unimpressed look. 

Jeremy did sigh now. “What's it matter? You usually don't care what people think of you, when it's not press.”

Kevin looked down. His hands rose and settled lightly on Jeremy's waist, fingertips skimming the hem of his shirt. It took him a moment to speak. “They're important to you.”

Jeremy's heart fluttered in understanding. A smile stretched over his face. He slid his hand around Kevin's neck and gave a light tug, just enough pressure for Kevin to duck down to meet him. Jeremy pressed their lips together, slow and firm, until Kevin's touch turned into a solid grip as he tried to drag Jeremy closer. 

Instead, Jeremy pulled back. He gently bumped their foreheads together, touched his nose lightly to Kevin's. “So are you,” Jeremy murmured. “And nothing anyone says or thinks will change that.”

Kevin's lips twitched, and Jeremy knew the only way to get his full smile out would be to kiss him again. So he did. 

4. Shut-Up Kiss (Kevjean)

Jean's skin still buzzed with the memory of his panic, though it was easing quickly with the warmth of Kevin at his side. It was clear Kevin was still unsure what to do in these scenarios, but he was trying. His hand was a gentle, reassuring weight on the back of Jean's head, his arm a guarding band across his back. His shoulder was thick and warm where Jean pressed his face against it. The memory of what had caused Jean distress in the first place was quickly receding as he twisted his hands in the back of Kevin's sweatshirt. 

“Are you alright?” Kevin asked quietly.

Jean pressed closer. “Give me a moment.”

“I don't want to make things worse.”

Jean didn't see how he could. It would only be worse if Kevin wasn't here. “You won't.”

Kevin's hand smoothed over his arm, up and down again in a short arc. On Jean's head, only his thumb mimicked the movement, stroking gently over his crown. “What can I do?”

This, really, should have been more than enough. Jean had wanted for it enough times that he couldn't fathom asking for more. But there was still that unpleasant tingle through his body, still a harsh whispering in his head that refused to silence. 

“Will you talk to me?” Jean asked. 

“About what?”

“Anything. It is just a distraction.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Kevin's voice, soft and lilting. Jean almost startled at the French—he couldn't understand why Kevin was bothering with it, until he realised it had instantly separated him from the moment before. The surprise of it worked, and hearing Kevin's careful accent was always a comfort. It warmed Jean somewhere deep, even if Kevin seemed to be only reciting a history lecture. 

With the sound of Kevin's voice around him and the sound of Kevin's pulse by his ear, the rushing, wavelike noise in his skull started to recede. It was easy for Kevin to talk at length when the topic interested him, but Jean was so used to tuning it out, as the sole topic had always been exy. This, informational but steeped in culture and truth and people, was more like a story, and Jean found himself swept up in it. 

After a long, indecipherable time, Kevin paused and squeezed Jean's shoulder. “Alright?” he asked quietly.

Jean nodded, his head still tucked into the crook of Kevin's neck, unwilling to relinquish this comfort until Kevin did. But Kevin brought Jean with him as he reclined on the bed, their long legs curled up and tangled to fit. Jean settled on the pillow next to him and contented himself with examining Kevin's profile. 

Kevin looked over at him and their noses bumped. Jean made no effort to create more space. Kevin took in his small smile and mirrored it. “I didn't think you'd be so happy to hear about the Irish famine.”

Ah, Jean thought. That's what it was. “I didn't know you were capable of being so interested in something other than exy.”

Kevin scoffed and scowled. He looked at Jean reproachfully. “I'm interested enough in you.”

Jean's stomach flipped. He knew that, he supposed, had seen it proven enough times now at least, but he would never get used to it. The flippant way Kevin referred to his feelings for Jean, as if they had always existed and always been obvious. He turned away now to hide how his smile had grown, but there was nothing he could do to disguise the blush creeping up his neck. 

Kevin shifted closer, his nose now brushing the curve of Jean's ear. “But if you wanted me to talk about exy, it's not too late. We could start with your performance during—”

Jean turned and kissed him before he could say any more. His stomach flipped, again, at the ease with which Kevin kissed him back. 

25. Asker’s Choice - French Kiss or Forceful Kiss (Kevjean)

Kevin didn't think most people would consider him hesitant. But most people only knew him through exy. 

With exy, there was no need to be hesitant. He was the best in the game. He was, more literally than most, born to play. But even so, it wasn't the kind of thing to scare him into nervousness, not when there was an obvious goal to strive for and a method to things, a skill that he could work and work to develop so that if he wasn't the best to begin with, he would be. 

Part of him (a part that was desperately trying to justify and reassure) thought Jean deserved a little hesitancy. He deserved someone who would take the time to think about things—to think about him—and to act with care. 

Other things—things based on life and people and feelings—were not as easily structured and learned. There was a method even to things like intimacy, Kevin was sure, but not an obvious one. There was no rule book to follow, no drill he could perfect, no certain outcome to aim for. He wasn't sure—couldn't be—and with unsurety came hesitance. 

Jean was less hesitant than unconvinced. He watched Kevin closely as he came near, until they were standing toe-to-toe and chest-to-chest. Kevin, slowly, raised his other hand to Jean's face, cupping his palm over Jean's jaw, settling his thumb on the stark lines of Jean's tattoo. 

So when Kevin reached for Jean (something he'd done a thousand times before but that was now different because Jean had looked at him again and now Kevin hadn't looked away and Jean had said tell me you don't want this and Kevin hadn't been able to), it was hesitant. A light brush of his fingers against the wrist of Jean's sweatshirt, a gentle curl of them into the fabric when Jean didn't pull away. His knuckle brushed the inside of Jean's wrist, the rabbit-quick ticking of his pulse, as his fingers slipped under the sleeve to grasp on and, unsurely, draw Jean closer. 

“I can't,” he said, and Jean blinked at him. Kevin explained, “I can't tell you that.”

It wasn't enough, but it was all Kevin had. It didn't seem to matter to Jean. 

There was no hesitancy in this, in the way Jean kissed him. There was just the hot press of his mouth against Kevin's, the kiss hard but his lips soft. Jean's hands had found their way quickly, immediately, into his hair and tangled through the strands, and Kevin melted under the touch. 

He kept one hand on Jean's face and slid the other over his hip, working on instinct and feeling surer with every responsive action from Jean. Once Kevin had closed every inch of space between them, Jean only pressed closer, until there was nowhere for him to go unless Kevin moved backwards, so he did. As soon as his back was against the wall, Jean was against him, the rapid rise and fall of his chest rising and falling against Kevin's. 

Kevin only realised how restrained Jean had always been around him before now. There was power and force to him like Kevin had only witnessed hints of on the court, a reckless passion that Jean had never bothered dedicating to exy. His hands were a wanting weight. The method and skill Kevin had thought lacking was all here, in the press of Jean's fingers against his skull and the teasing prod of Jean's tongue against his lips. 

“You're smiling,” Jean said, managing to sound both amused himself and a tad offended, and Kevin realised he was. He thought it might be impossible to stop. 

There was no hesitancy, but there was care. The kiss was forceful, but not demanding. Kevin knew at the first sign of his unrest Jean would relent. But the restlessness in him wasn't asking this to end; it wanted more. The best way Kevin could think to achieve this was to let Jean in. From there it was only a heavier heat, forceful yet languid. Jean's kiss was hard but sensuous. French kiss, Kevin's brain supplied, with not a little deliriousness. 

if you fell so inclined please send me more prompts <3 (i promise i will get to them eventually)

[floretissogay]

why am i as a legal adult writing imaginary texts between jeremy knox and kevin day