#Matt and Dan try so hard to explain why this is not normal

[kaos-living]

I want to write something where Neil, having about zero examples of a normal relationship with others, just goes full swing into the monsters dynamics, Im talking no hesitation. Cause the only person he really stuck with was Mary, and we all know how that went. So of course the monsters would be like that, how else are they supposed to make sure no one gets kidnapped by the mafia? Safety in numbers bitch

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 04

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: i’m sorry i’ve taken so long to update, i’ve started my online internship and for the past 24 hours i’ve been looking at papers about various medicines so i had to give myself a break 😂 hope you enjoy this one xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Sebastian hated to miss the opportunity to see Y/N go through a whole lot of various dresses, however, working with clueless idiots meant he had to drive straight to his place for an impromptu meeting. It was boring to say the least and at the end of it, he didn’t feel like getting dressed up with a silly mask and host a ball in the reception of some sleezy hotel. However, appearances mattered and although most people had known he was bethroted prior to before him even knowing him, he still had to parade around with Genevieve as if they were the happiest couple on Earth. They weren’t and they would never be.

For starters, Sebastian despised the tactics applied by the Forrests when running their business with absolute trust in everyone who worked for them. Additionally, both his prior encounters with Genevieve had been awful and none of them were really interested in keeping the facade of happy couple behind closed doors.

However, he had to admit that having Y/N parading around as a direct consequence of his future wedding was no bad thing. He had a sly smile as he sat against his chair, thinking about her. He found her delightfully naive and extremely sheltered for someone who followed Gwen around like a lost puppy. There was something extremely captivating in seeing a woman who was untainted by the environment she lived in and due to his extremely good sharp-eye he had mostly memorised her reactions. How she would bring her hand up to only her left cheek when she felt embarrassed, the constant lip bitting which on its own could possibly attract all the unwanted attention in a room, the constant pulling and smoothing of her clothing fabrics whenever standing next to someone of power ... If it was an act, well, then she was a very good actress.

He would’ve probably been stuck in the mindless act of thinking about someone who’d probably run to the hills at the mere thought of being intimate with him, had it not been for the clock in the wall showing that it was already time for him to possibly get ready.

Sebastian got changed out of his suit into a new one, grabbing the mask on his way out and proceeded to pace the floors of his living room expecting Gwen. Of course, part of him was only pacing the floors and not in the car because he wanted to take a quick peak at his fiancée’s handmaid but he wouldn’t admit that to himself. At least out loud. This was quickly thrown out the window once he saw Gwen coming down the stairs in her red gown, black satin mask in place, followed by her bodyguard and not by Y/N. 

     - I see your shadow is missing. - he asked in a teasing manner, something Gwen didn’t take too lightly, rolling her eyes as per usual. 

     - Y/N is getting ready. Can we please go to the car and get this charade over and done with? - the heiress huffed, holding the fabric of her dress slightly up so she wouldn’t trip on it. Sebastian decided not to comment on it, thinking that poking the lion would only make it for a worse evening, so he ordered one of the countless bodyguards he kept in his penthouse to drive Y/N. The man nodded, as men usually did whenever he gave them orders and with that Sebastian left with his bride-to-be. 

Y/N on the other hand had finished setting her hair in place, sliding in a few star shaped pins onto her hair which had been a gift from Dan once she graduated from university along with Gwen. She extremely cherished them and thought there was no better occasion to wear them but tonight. 

Her eyes slightly gazed onto her reflection in the mirror, thinking she looked exactly like what she used to believe princesses looked like in fairytales and couldn’t help but slightly smile at the sight. Once she stepped out of the room, ready to supposedly join the rest of the people downstairs, she was met with another bodyguard who gestured for her to follow him. 

    - Did Gwen leave already? - she questioned, her instinct of making sure her friend was safe on the back of her head screaming at her. 

    - Miss Forrest and Mr. Stan left early. - he replied in the usual monotonous voice that didn’t leave room for many questions. - We shan’t take too long. 

Meanwhile, Sebastian was having a tedious time. Wherever he turned to there were either people trying to lend money from him, talk business with him, or congratulate him on his engagement, all things that made him want them removed from his inner circle. Yet again, he can’t just get rid of people because they’re a nuisance, usually they have to give him a reason, which after some time they always do. 

He knew exactly what he had signed up for when he agreed to this ludicrous show off party, he had signed up for a night of fake kissing and fake laughing all while wearing a stupid last minute Phantom of the Opera mask he had from the last time he’d seen it. It was a pretty boring night except for the champagne flutes that luckily seemed to find him whenever he felt like putting a bullet into someone’s head for talking too long. 

Contrarily, Genevieve seemed to thrive in these functions as shown by the way that she was introducing herself in several conversions and, very unprofessionally, flirting with various mob family’s bodyguards. It wasn’t like Sebastian really cared, having a unfaithful wife wasn’t something new, however he still would like her to be at least respectful. 

His eyes roamed over the crowd, champagne flute in hand, as he noticed the commotion that settled at the entrance of the room. From the door emerged one of his bodyguards and in front of him Y/N. He couldn’t help but stare at her, his brain explaining that behaviour by telling him he could do so as he had paid for the dress. She stood slightly smaller than the crowd due to her constant habit of looking down but he could still see her perfectly clear in a ankle length beige dress covered in lines of pearls which matched her equally beige shoes. Just like everyone else she had a masquerade mask wrapped around her face with a bow made of black ribbon. 

The moment Gwen set her eyes on her friend, she was pulling her into her own social circle leaving Sebastian to observe her. As per usual, she didn’t speak much unless addressed and even when addressed she would bounce the conversation to someone else, hands always slightly tucked in front of her stomach, and a look that told him she probably disliked this party more than she did.

Social gatherings weren’t Y/N’s cup of tea, despite going to at least more than a hundred of them in her life time. She always thought them to be extremely fake with people putting on several different personalities throughout the evening in order to entice various upper ranked mobsters. 

     - We must discuss business someday, Miss Forrest. - one man pulled Genevieve away from Y/N leaving her by her lonesome. Her fingers drew over the top of the champagne flute looking around at everyone. Some people she knew, some were men close to Mr. Forrest with their new wives, some their sons. There were some people she had seen from hit lists and others from birthday presents. Her eyes laid on Mr. Stan and his perfectly tailored navy suit. His posture screamed power, dominance and authority without even trying, even with that matte white half mask. 

She cleared her throat, turning her head to face the opposite wall once her gaze was met by his. Y/N couldn’t stare at him, he made her nervous without saying a single word. Funny thing was, she did not know why he made her nervous. Sure he was a mob boss with probably a few kills under his belt but she had grown up around that type of people, yet he made her nervous. He made her feel like digging her own hiding hole whenever he look slightly in her direction. 

    - Miss Y/N ... - came a voice from behind her, making her drop the flute on the ground. Despite the noise, no one turned their head, too busy in their own conversation. - Didn’t mean to frighten you.

    - Mr. Sta... Sebastian, good evening. - she took a step back, noticing how close he was to her. He was close enough she could smell his cologne, the type of smell that made a girl want to wrap herself in a guy’s scented clothing. - I spoke with the saleswoman and she said I could return the dress later. 

    - It’s a gift, angel. You should keep it, it suits you. 

    - This is the type of gift you give to Gwen, not to me. - she smoothed over the fabric of her dress.

    - Miss Forrest has enough dresses as it is. Speaking of gifts ... - his hand went to his pocket, pulling a golden chain. - I believe this is yours. 

    - My necklace. - her heart swelled up as she saw him hold her golden necklace. Mindlessly, she wrapped her arms around him, taking him by shock. Normally, he’d have the head of whomever tried to hug him. - I can’t believe you found it. 

    - You dropped it on the club. I’ve been meaning to return it but it passed my mind. - he handed it over to her who like an over excited child getting a new piece of clothing for Christmas, immediately wrapped it around her own neck. However, it was slightly hard for her to clasp the necklace herself which automatically and mindlessly led Sebastian to hold both ends of the chain in his hands, her hand slightly grazing his as it left the clasp and rested upon her abdomen. 

It was a rather easy clasp leading the moment to be over in less than a second if so, however his hands instead of returning to stand politely over his pockets, he instead left them softly against her warm shoulders, a stark contrast to his cold ones. This contrast did not go unnoticed by her, her skin trembling and shivering at the touch that seemed to last a whole millennium.

    - Uhm ... - she cleared her throat, slowly turning around to face him. - Ho...how are you enjoying your evening?

    - I would rather be doing anything else, Miss Y/N. - he chuckled darkly, grabbing another flute as a tray passed by. 

    - You should call me Y/N if I’m to call you Sebastian. - she walked alongside him, through crowds of people which like the red sea to Moses would part so he could pass through. - It’s only fair.

    - Fairness isn’t exactly my strongest suit, angel.

tag list: @sideeffectsofyou​ @lilya-petrichor​ @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​

[senstia]

Hii!! I love your page!! Do you do headcanons? If so: drunk neil w the foxes and andrew?? Again i love your page!❤️❤️

Hi!! Thank you so much! People don’t ask for them often but i’m always happy to do them!!

-Pls excuse my terrible grammar, punctuation and writing in general loll im very bad

-but anyway i love drunk neil hes the cutest boy ever and neil will always have my whole heart (and Andrews)

Here you go!!

The foxes decided to play 21 questions. It was Allison and Nicky’s idea. Neil attempted to opt out but they would have none of that. Neil wasn’t one to drink and since Nicky and Allison’s version of 21 questions involved a lot of shots he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about it. Losing control wasn’t something Neil was used to but all the foxes looked so happy and he knew Andrew would make sure he was safe so in the end he decided he’d play.

“Andrew your turn!” Nicky yelled enthusiastically. He may have pre-gamed the game a little bit.

“Not playing,” Andrew said. Neil was sitting on the floor below him looking nervously excited and already slightly flushed from the alcohol making its way through his system. Andrew wondered what kind of a drunk Neil was. Hopefully he wasn’t an angry drunk.

“Fine, fine i’ll go again. Ummmm lets see oooh oh i got one! Never have I ever kissed a girl before!”

Allison, Renee, Aaron, Matt and Kevin all downed their shots immediately. Neil frowned down at his drink but slowly tipped it back and swallowed.

“Wait pause, Neil you’ve kissed a girl before?” Matt asked. Andrew tried to hide the curiosity from his face as he looked down at Neil.

“A couple,” Neil mumbled, embarrassed.

“A couple?? Neil is a player! I’m offended you never told us! Must not have been that great since you decided to swing the other way huh?” Nicky blabbered.

Neil flushed bright red. “I already said I didn’t swing and I don’t. Those girls were nothing. Andrew is different.” Neil said. He knew the alcohol was making his tongue looser but there was no way for him to control it at this point.

“Different how?” Allison said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at Neil.

“Don’t answer that,” Andrew snapped at Neil.

“Well, i’m still offended. I thought I was your first kiss!” Nicky shouted. Apparently alcohol made Nicky louder than normal.

“Your first- what? You’ve kissed Neil?” Dan asked incredulously.

“Yeah well...” Nicky paused and looked up at Andrew. Andrew was leaned over closer to him and giving him a death glare.

“Go on Nicky,” Andrew said.

“Please don’t kill me,” Nicky squeaked out.

Andrew pulled a knife out of his armband and started twirling it in his hand. “Explain.”

Allison was continuously feeding Neil shots as they watched this confrontation.

“Well you see, we may or may not have kissed a few times the first time we took him to Columbia,” Nicky said, looking terrified.

“I thought I told you to keep your hands off him?” Andrew said, cocking his head.

“You told me to give him the cracker dust so I did!”

“I didn’t realize that included kissing,” Andrew said.

“Okay yeah so I may have taken advantage of the situation a little bit. But I mean come on can you blame me? Neil is beautiful, like male model beautiful. I just couldn’t help myself! And besides you weren’t even into him back then!”

Aaron wrinkled his nose in disgust at the words. Neil looked perplexed by the whole situation. Andrew looked murderous.

Andrew stared at him in silence with death in his eyes. He wanted to deny what Nicky had said but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to Neil back then, even with the hair and contacts.

“Oh. Oh. You were into him back then? I-I mean um well I thought you hated him when you two met?”

“I did.”

Nicky looked extremely confused and Andrew wanted to stab him so bad his hands were shaking.

“It’s called sexual attraction Nicky. Leave him be,” Renee said softly but not quietly.

Andrew glared at Renee but stayed silent.

“Right um I-I apologize. Please don’t kill me. Please.” Nicky said weakly.

“If you ever get anywhere near him again or compliment him like that again I will stab you in your sleep.”

Nicky squeaked and recoiled from Andrew but nodded his head vigorously.

Neil was just looking up at Andrew in wonder and awe. Andrew glanced down at him and raised his brows but Neil just kept staring. Andrew just rolled his eyes and looked away.

“Okay next round, Kevin’s turn!” Allison said.

The next few rounds went by with little to no drama and Neil knew he was completely trashed. Every thought he usually kept in his head was managing to make its way out of his mouth and he had no way to stop it. Andrew was always beautiful and Neil always loved him but it was like the alcohol was making every feeling he had for Andrew increase tenfold and he was having a really hard time trying to keep those feelings to himself.

Neil contented himself with staring at Andrew in awe. Sometimes he couldn’t believe how perfect his boyfriend was.

“Look at how he’s looking at him!” Allison loudly whispered to Renee happily.

Everyone in the room heard that and they all moved their attention to Neil. Neil was sipping a mixed drink and staring at Andrew like he put the stars in the sky. Andrew was trying as hard as he could to ignore this and was staring intently at the wall.

“Neil what are you looking at?” Allison said. She was an instigator at heart and loved seeing Neil fawn over Andrew. Neil looked over at the rest of the group like he hadn’t realized any other humans existed besides Andrew.

Neil sighed, “My boyfriend,” he said dreamily.

Nicky squealed and the only person who wasn’t grinning widely at Neil was Aaron. Even Kevin looked mildly amused. Andrew just looked down at Neil with a blank face.

“Why are you staring at Andrew Neil?” Nicky asked already getting excited by what his response might be.

“Because I love him,” Neil said with a huge smile on his face. Everyone was squealing and smiling at this and Aaron looked at Neil with something like disbelief on his face.

Andrew fought tooth and nail to keep his expression unreadable but he felt like his insides were being stuffed with sunshine.

“Stop that,” Andrew said and flicked Neil’s nose.

Matt frowned at this. He knew Neil knew what he was doing and he was sure Andrew was different when they were alone but he did think Neil deserved someone who could be a little more affectionate.

Neil noticed Matt’s frown and stage whispered, “Don’t worry Andrew says he loves me all the time, he just doesn’t show anyone else his soft side.”

Everyone started cracking up laughing at this. Neil peeked up at Andrew hoping he didn’t anger him. His mouth was getting really hard to control at this point.

“Sorry,” Neil whispered to Andrew.

Neil was looking at Andrew with the biggest puppy eyes and Andrew knew he was so screwed. Andrew thought to hell with it and brought his hand to Neil’s cheekbone. Neil nodded happily at Andrew and Andrew began stroking his cheek. He leaned in and softly brushed his lips against Neil’s. Neil let out a contented sigh and melted into the kiss. After a moment Andrew pulled back to look at Neil.

Neil pouted, “More,” he whined.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “You’re drunk.”

“Drew I want, I want...” Neil said helplessly.

“What?”

Neil leaned close to Andrew’s neck and paused. Andrew muttered a soft yes and Neil brushed his lips against Andrew’s neck. “All of you,” Neil whispered.

Andrew stood abruptly and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

“Drewww,” Neil whined loudly.

“Oh my god, oh my god. He has a nickname for him! I’m gonna die it’s so cute,” Nicky said excitedly nudging Kevin over and over to get him to watch Neil and Andrew. Matt, Dan, and Allison were all squealing in excitement at the spectacle and Renee was smiling quietly.

“Drink,” Andrew said and shoved the water bottle into Neil’s hand.

“Does this mean we can have sex?” Neil said excitedly. Aaron choked on his drink and cringed at this.

Andrew lightly smacked Neil on the side of his head. “Shut it. Drink your water.”

“Drewww.”

Andrew glared at him, “What?”

Neil scooted up closer to Andrew’s seat and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “You’re really really beautiful.”

“If you’re trying to seduce me it’s not working,” Andrew said.

Neil cocked his head to the side dramatically. “Last time I said that you let me-“ Andrew put his hand over Neil’s mouth and Neil kept speaking beneath it.

“Finish that sentence and you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Andrew took his hand off Neil’s mouth thinking Neil was done but Neil finished his sentence aloud.

“-under five minutes, so I thought it worked,” Neil finished.

Nicky opened his mouth to say something and Andrew glared at him. “Say one word and you’re dead.”

Everyone was attempting to keep their laughs under control as Neil talked to Andrew.

Andrew got up again and Neil whined in protest. “Calm down i’m just getting you more water,” Andrew said as he stalked off.

Andrew came back and handed Neil another water bottle.

“Drewwww,” Neil said. Andrew just stared at him with raised brows.

“I love you. You’re the best person in the wholeeee wide world. And you’re also really really pretty. And your arms are super muscular. And you have beautiful eyes. And your hair is super soft. And I love that tiny freckle you have on your a-“ Andrew smacked his hand over Neil’s mouth again.

Andrew picked Neil up bridal style and growled, “We’re leaving.”

As Andrew walked out of the apartment with Neil in his arms Neil looked over his shoulder and waved happily at the foxes.

All the foxes just laughed at Neil and waved back at him.

Andrew plopped Neil down on their bed and stared down at him. Neil couldn’t remember anything he had just said but he had a hunch he had said some things he shouldn’t have.

“I’m sorry,” Neil said softly, wishing he was sober right now for about a hundred different reasons. The water had made it into his system enough that he was more aware of everything around him but he still felt off.

“Shut up. Yes or no?”

“Yes. Always yes,” Neil said breathlessly.

Andrew just sat down next to Neil on the bed and kissed him once softly on the lips. Neil sighed.

“Are you mad at me?” Neil asked.

“No. I love you.”

“Hug. Yes or no?” Neil asked.

Andrew just nodded and Neil wrapped him in a tight embrace. They stayed wrapped in each others arms for long minutes and right before Neil pulled back he whispered, “I love you too,” against Andrew’s neck.

Andrew got his answer. Neil was a sappy drunk.

[xlady-saya]

someday there won’t be scowls [fic]

Relationships: aaron and neil, andrew/neil, aaron/katelyn

Summary: Neil finds that even with his mind's best efforts to hang onto the wounds of the past, his opinion of Aaron just isn't what it used to be. He can thank Andrew and Katelyn for a lot of it, but his own observations certainly help.

When he sees Aaron like this, the mix of worry and adoration on his face as he thinks of Katelyn, Neil can't help but feel too exposed himself.

It's a start.

Tags: neil and aaron bonding this time y’all, the usual fluff, references to canon violence

Read on ao3!

Contrary to popular belief, Aaron had not been drunk when he lost his phone.

No, no. He's just an idiot.

A couch cushion hits the coffee table as Neil rounds the corner, nearly knocking over a stray glass of water Nicky had furiously gulped down before disappearing to some party.

Neil watches it wobble. It's a needed pause, because he's not quite sure what to do.

He's not necessarily shocked to find Aaron here in their dorm. Now that he and Andrew aren't at each other's throats, the other twin is often around, either playing videogames or studying. It's the small concessions; the twins don't always talk, but the calm presence has done wonders for them. Especially in those first few months, the exposure did just as much as the therapy sessions.

It had been worth it. Even with having to feel Aaron eyeing Neil warily for months...Neil wouldn't take it back. It's because of those tense afternoons that they can all go on Katelyn's outings without a fight breaking out.

Besides that...Aaron does his best not to say anything too cutting, and it's good for Andrew. The slow acceptance, the effort, on both their parts.

At the thought, Neil smiles to himself. Andrew would never admit it, but having to war between his need to protect Neil while still looking out for his brother had been stressful with Aaron constantly antagonizing him.

These days, Andrew has been more relaxed, lighter. While Neil knows it's not all because of Aaron, their growing relationship is a huge part of it. Neil would never get in the way of that, so the sight of Aaron isn't unwelcome. Still, it's rare for him to be here without Andrew.

That's the bridge Neil has yet to cross, and doesn't really believe he has to. He and Aaron don't have to be friends for them to have Andrew's best interest at heart.

Aaron seems to agree.

He tends to avoid Neil when he can, or all the time really. Neil can't help but smirk at that; he’s certainly made it difficult for him, being friends with Katelyn and all.

It's not intentional, but it's too late to stop.

Vaguely, Neil remembers Matt planning a romantic night with Dan, and well...it explains why Aaron is here. He believes Nicky used the term 'sexiled,' which at the time was hilarious to Neil. When told by Kevin to 'shut up,' he simply employed the tactic later that night.

Served him right.

Another pillow flies to the floor, and Neil tracks it like a cat. He debates his next move.

Deep down, he already knows Aaron will do shit to help clean this up, and his frown deepens.

Normally, he'd turn himself back around into the bedroom, curl up with Andrew's hoodie and listen in on whatever exy podcast Kevin is listening to, but...

He probably can't leave Aaron like this, partly from curiosity, and partly because he's supposed to care.

He does care, he just sometimes wishes he didn't.

Neil dodges a flying plushie (a gift from Allison) swiftly, leaning against the door frame as he observes Aaron's frantic search for...whatever he's looking for. The twin looks two seconds from pulling his hair out when he finally spots Neil, and for all their progress, this part never seems to change.

Aaron's posture goes rigid the same time Neil stops breathing, their staredown freezing them both in place. It's habit after many, many fights. Neil waits for Aaron to say something insulting, to insinuate something about him and Andrew, and Neil's already mentally preparing for the retort. He knows the same is probably true for Aaron, except in his case he's prepared for lies and manipulation to fly out of Neil's mouth.

Or a fist to the face.

They expect the worst from each other, still. It's hard to break the cycle, especially with their history, and Neil stands stone-faced as Aaron squints at him.

Neil is stubborn, and he's not one to give up, another reason Aaron can't stand him. It just makes Neil embrace the trait more.

Knowing this, Aaron breaks first, sighing heavily at their own ridiculousness. They're supposed to be better, they shouldn't need Andrew to buffer, but Neil still wishes he was here.

Aaron grabs another pillow, seemingly just to have something to do with his hands, and scoffs.

Ah, so that's how this is gonna go.

"Make yourself useful and call my phone," Aaron orders, because he can't not have some of the old loathing in their conversation. Neil is fine with that; a nice Aaron would be creepy.

He's not ready to deal with it.

"I dunno where my phone is," Neil says with a shrug Aaron can't see, and it's the truth. Why Aaron expects anything more from him is his own fault.

Neil hides a laugh in his palm; it sounds like something Andrew would say, accompanied by the crunch of teeth on a lollipop.

"Typical," Aaron mutters, digging through the couch once again. He fusses with his hair, fingers itching from the stress. It's similar to when Andrew needs a cigarette, but Neil knows Aaron's poison.

Yet, there's no beer in sight, and Aaron doesn't seem to be moving to get one. It's odd enough to have Neil committed.

"What's the big deal?" He finally asks in the silence, walking forward to lean against the armrest and effectively blocking Aaron's search efforts. The blond's eye twitches from the harshness of the glare.

Good thing Neil is immune.

But again Aaron surprises him; the scowl doesn't last, the rare mask of defeat washing over Aaron's face. It's like the glare doesn't have a chance, can't possibly stay locked in when Aaron's thoughts are so opposite to the feeling of contempt. Before he even speaks her name, Neil has a feeling it's about her.

"Katelyn went out to a party," Aaron says, clearing his throat. Neil almost wants to laugh; Aaron is so terrible at keeping the affection from his tone. It's the opposite of Andrew, who can't keep it from his actions. "I wanna be available if she needs me, or just to know she's okay."

Some of the tension leaves Neil's shoulders. He understands in a few ways; while he and Andrew aren't the most frequent texters, they do let each other know their locations, and lately...

Well, lately Neil has noticed Andrew uses text to convey some of the things he can't in person. There's no grand confessions or love notes by any means. Andrew is still Andrew; there's just a new layer of vulnerability between the lines, inflections which Andrew's monotone would not allow. Neil's heart flutters, uncaged.

But in another sense, he's argued with Katelyn about this before.

They'd been having lunch one day without the twins, and Katelyn tearily confessed to asking Aaron not to drink some nights.

And well, that's what Neil deserved for seeing Katelyn as someone predictable, easy to read. He'd been sucker punched by that confession, but Katelyn's guilt drove her to ramble. She always framed it with an excuse of some kind she said; the vixens wanted to try a new club in a sketchy part of town, she was feeling paranoid because of exams, she'd had a fight with her parents, etc.

And Aaron, so devoted, never backed down from one of the promises. Neil had been impressed, watching Aaron dutifully drink sodas at Eden's instead of taking his shots from the endless trays.

Katelyn's worries about Aaron's addiction problems spurred the situation at hand, and Neil nearly made Katelyn sob from how against it he'd been. Not necessarily because it wasn't a concern, but due to the lack of trust.

No matter how Neil feels about Aaron, he knows Katelyn is his beacon. He'll do anything for her.

So, the least Katelyn can do, as someone with no gritty past or things to hide, is be honest with her boyfriend. Neil told her as such, not holding back. It wouldn't be an easy conversation, but one day she'd need to have it.

Aaron had yet to break her trust or lose control again, so Katelyn's betrayal of that sent Neil on a verbal onslaught.

Of course, Katelyn didn't take it personally. Something about Neil telling it like it is...

"It's why I tell you anything at all," she sniffled that day, her smile shaky.

Neil's never been known for being gentle, but perhaps he should've tried it. That, or Katelyn's still just working up to confronting this problem.

Tonight, she fell back on a bad habit. Hopefully, she comes back with something to show for it.

Aaron collapses into one of the beanbags on the floor, fed up with his search for the moment. The lines of tension and internal strife are all over his face, Neil nearly tells him to stop being so open about it.

But well, Neil blames himself for a lot too. It's easy to do, to imagine the worst case scenario, to already see something as his fault even when it hasn't happened yet.

He gets it. For once, he's annoyed he can't call Aaron's phone, but his could be anywhere. He winces to himself; he hopes Andrew doesn't find out.

"She's okay," Neil says, sinking slowly into the beanbag across from Aaron. From the way the twin raises his head, he's just as shocked as Neil is at the concession. Neil has always been spectacularly bad at the accepted forms of comfort. Maybe because a lot of the time they're a waste. But, he tries.

His foxes taught him hope, and he can't take the lessons for granted.

Besides, he's sure Katelyn is fine. And not his apparent definition of fine. More than fine, probably tipsy and gossiping about that one guy from chem class.

That's as far as his comforting skills go. Aaron waits for him to say something more, but Neil tucks his knees up to his chest, guarding himself.

Aaron frowns, but his eyes drift to the floor, rationalizing through it. The medical student in him kicks in, the one who is all statistics without room for paranoia, and he relaxes with a nod.

"Yeah," Aaron whispers into the awkward silence. "I hope she's having fun."

Jeez.

Okay, maybe Neil should've kept the conversation going. Katelyn and Andrew are safe topics, because they both have a lot of good things to say about them. It takes them off more dangerous paths, like the one they're currently on, sitting in silence and waiting for the other to snap.

'You don't have to be here,' the Andrew in his head critiques, unhelpfully. Mostly because it's the truth, he could abandon Aaron here and save himself from the weighted quiet, marred with tension and mistrust.

However, it frustrates Neil to no end, how he and Aaron seem incapable of having a conversation. Aaron is family, Andrew's family, blood which hasn't been poisoned by heavy hands and abuse. Neil should probably be able to carry a conversation with him.

He's sure Aaron's not thrilled about it, but the truth is, Neil plans to be around a long time. Andrew can say he doesn’t care as much as he wants, but ultimately, Neil knows he does.

Aaron regards him with a stony expression, perhaps feeling the same itch in his veins, the need to show he's improved as Andrew's brother.

Aaron clears his throat. "So, where's Andrew?"

Neil rolls his eyes. What the fuck was that?

But at least he's no longer in charge of making the first move.

"Eden's," Neil mumbles, pulling at the strings of his hoodie.

He doesn't expect Aaron's head to snap up, suddenly more awake as he straightens in his seat. There's a look on his face, Neil can't quite pin it down. Staring too long at Aaron freaks him out sometimes.

It's not often Aaron looks even a hair similar to Andrew in Neil's eyes, but the intensity shining there is hard to miss.

If he had to guess, he'd say it's suspicion.

"Eden's? Alone?" Aaron asks, and Neil doesn't know what to think. Aaron wasn't planning on drinking anyways, so who cares?

Under the scrutiny, Neil fidgets.

"Mhm," Neil hums, which only seems to draw Aaron's brows tighter together. "He said he had something to take care of."

At the wording, Neil bites back a smile. What sounds like secret-keeping to most people is more of a gift to Neil, something to wait for, something worth it.

"I need to talk to Roland," Andrew says, tangled up in the sheets with Neil. It had been a good day, Andrew pressed close and not crawling out of his skin to have space. It'll wear off eventually Neil knows, and soon Andrew will be forced to separate them slowly, pushing Neil to his side of the bed.

Still facing each other, still close.

Neil plays with the chain around Andrew's neck, tracing the metal cigarette at the end of it.

He feels the small font, can almost make out the words by touch alone...

"Neil," Andrew says again, firmer, and Neil's eyes shoot up. The fact Andrew's eyes are still so bright in the dark sends a shiver down Neil's spine.

Neil smiles sheepishly, but catches the lines of tension in Andrew's frame. He almost looks angry, but Neil's not sure who it's directed at. The storm locked in his expression swirls in a mixture of tension and consideration, trying to pick out any sign of discomfort in Neil.

Immediately, Neil's eyes narrow, heart cold. "What did he do?"

And well, he likes Roland, but if he's done anything to upset Andrew then...

Neil won't stop until he does something about it, and he tastes copper on his tongue before he can help himself.

But, the sight of a genuine threat in Neil's eyes actually softens Andrew's posture. Weird, how Andrew always finds the murder beneath Neil's calm facade to be a comfort. Andrew scoffs, fingers finally itching for a cigarette. Nerves. "Nothing. I just need to settle something."

And like that, Neil can see Andrew's not talking about a confrontation, and it settles Neil's own anxiety.

He's intrigued, but he knows Andrew well enough to understand it's not an invitation to pry. It's confirmed when Andrew turns back to him, a vow creasing his expression before the words leave his mouth. "Later."

'I'll tell you later.'

Neil sighs, content beyond measure. Yeah, okay.

And the words feel like a key, pressed hot into Neil's palm.

Aaron's voice brings him back to the present.

"Aren't you worried?" The twin says, incredulous. His eyebrows are in his hairline, like he can't fathom how big of an idiot Neil is. Something hot and ugly begins to simmer in Neil's blood. Andrew trusts Neil to believe in him, to let him know there's something itching at him and he needs time to get all the words together.

"Why?" He bites out; he doesn't like this, doesn't like the intrusion, the assumption he can sense coming. Neil knew enough that night with Andrew to guess that whatever Andrew needed from Roland was a vulnerable subject. And if he's being truthful, Andrew has been a bit off kilter all week. The anger he'd seen in Andrew's body had been at himself.

It means the blond is mulling something over, which he only ever does with the important things, because if he gets it wrong...

He doesn't want to get it wrong, not when it involves Neil.

It had probably taken a lot for Andrew to even admit to Neil he needed to go.

Neil doesn't take kindly to Aaron's old biases rearing their ugly heads. He thought Aaron stopped seeing Andrew as an uncaring asshole months ago. Guess he was wrong.

Aaron locks his knees together, searching for words which make him sound less awful. The search comes up short. "Well...he used to...hook up there, you know?"

Neil's knuckles crack from how hard he tightens them.

He can't kill Aaron. He knows that. Yes.

"I know--" He pauses to keep the sneer down. It's for nothing, since the viciousness leaks into his tone. Aaron's face falls in an instant, ashamed. Good. "I do trust Andrew you know? Don't you?"

Aaron opens his mouth quickly at the jab, but well, Neil's temper hasn't gotten any better. In true bitterness, he goes for what Aaron cares about, because he's never hesitated before. "Are you worried about Katelyn hooking up with someone at whatever bar she's at?"

Going for Katelyn is a cheap trick, but effective. It's always gotten a reaction in the past, normally violent and loud. He expects Aaron to jump out of his seat, to lunge for him. It's how he deserves to feel, an insinuation that his person, the one he'd do anything for, would go behind his back.

What he doesn't expect is for Aaron to freeze, for his jaw to fall open in quiet shock. The lack of answer is deafening. Neil's eyes widen, ever perceptive to the ugliness in people. It's so stupid, how he can't read so much about others, can't tread lightly with their sadness or embarrassment. It makes for awkward encounters, tactless comments. He has no idea how to read a mood, a room. Hell, he had no idea Andrew felt anything for him before Roland exposed the truth, and it had been going on for months.

But here, seeing the shame and insecurity in Aaron's features, it's so obvious it's laughable.

The silence envelops them again, heavy with a confession Aaron did not mean to give him.

Neil breathes in sharply, and some of his anger drains out of him. "Oh."

At that, Aaron's expression tightens, tone like a slap. "Shut up! I know it's ridiculous."

But not surprising. Aaron has only recently started to have good things in his life, not unlike Andrew. His possessiveness and wary attitude aren't exactly things he hides well. According to Andrew, Aaron's bouts of jealousy are pitiful.

Neil narrows his eyes right back.

"No," Neil says, before backtracking. "Well, yes, but it's mostly insulting."

It's a blow that lands; Aaron flinches from it. He has to know why.

Neil stands his ground; Katelyn's loyalty rivals Neil's own. He even got Andrew to acknowledge it, back when he was poking fun at how similar Bee thought he and Katelyn were. It's not fair for Aaron to be doubting her, when she's given him so much without hesitation. There was nothing but support from her during the trial, during the tumultuous months of therapy between him and Andrew.

Katelyn tries to bridge so many of the harsh gaps in Aaron's life, and trusts Aaron to do the same with her.

Neil may not be good with people, but he thinks he's spent enough time with Katelyn to know she'd never be unfaithful.

He almost can't fathom the extent of Aaron's hopelessness if he really believes she would be. If Katelyn knew...

Aaron sighs, burying his face in his hands. "No that's--It's not that I really think she would okay? It's just..." Aaron chews on his bottom lip, trying not to mess up the words. He can't be as careful, as deliberate, when it comes to these things. The fact he's even telling Neil this at all...Neil doesn't get it. He and Aaron aren't close, he doesn't even think he'd call him a friend. That's how much Katelyn means to him though, he can't have even Neil misunderstand those feelings. "I get scared sometimes and my brain thinks stupid shit, I know it's...I'm trying to be rational."

Rational.

It feels a lot like a crutch, like something Aaron is trying to convince himself of.

It feels a lot like 'I hate you' or 'there is no this.'

There's nothing rational about any of it.

Aaron will feel how he feels, the most important thing is how he expresses it. From how Katelyn smiles and swoons whenever Aaron looks at her, Neil knows he's done a good job of making sure Katelyn knows nothing about his deep doubts. Just like how Aaron knows nothing of hers when it comes to his drinking.

For her, the jealousy is just that, cute and harmless. It's not hiding dark doubts.

Neil leans back, contemplating. Comfort isn't his goal, at least he doesn't think so. Even still, the words tumble out. Kinda like a cheer move, but way less peppy and enjoyable. "Katelyn isn't the type to be with you unless she really likes you. While I don't get your appeal, and you're a grade A asshole, I never hear her stop telling me how happy you make her. Stop being pathetic."

He sounds like Andrew again he realizes.

'Stop letting it bother you or deal with it.'

From how Aaron glares, he probably thinks the same. Neil smirks.

"It's not so easy you know," Aaron grits out, fuming, and Neil worries he might leave the beanbag deformed from how hard he's twisting his hands in it. "I love her. Imagining it ending is hard, thinking of not having her around is unbearable. After everything...I just always think of the worst case scenario. Surely you have to get it."

Aaron doesn't manage to keep the sneer off his face for the last bit, and like that, Neil knows he doesn’t mean general paranoia. Aaron may acknowledge how important Neil is to Andrew now, but somedays it's easier to remember than others. Right then, when Neil is being particularly insufferable, it's a great feat.

Neil's never heard him actually acknowledge Neil and Andrew's bond before though, and Neil's not prepared for the assumption.

Or the derailment of his own thoughts.

Love.

It's not...it's not a word they use. Love is complicated, something that's been clouded for him due to heavy hands and harsh rules. His mother loved him, but to this day he finds himself wondering if it's the kind anyone should want.

His father hated him. Lola loved to hurt him. Neil never got the chance to explore the feeling until his Foxes, and he could probably say he loves them. He'd die for them, wouldn't hesitate to. But unlike his mother's own brand of sacrificial love, Neil would never think of hurting his friends. He likes spending time with them, getting to know them. There's warmth in his new family where his mother only knew frigidness.

Still, that's not the love Aaron is speaking about, and Neil tries not to grimace at the montage of cliché romantic comedies which fly through his head. He's not sure why he watches them, but it's hard to say no to Allison when she has him trapped in a chair for his monthly haircut.

The kind of love in those movies is not real to him.

Of course, Neil's not so stupid he hasn't wondered about this. After his feelings for Andrew became too hard to ignore, free of the weight of Neil's impending doom, Neil had to start thinking about how exactly to define them...

And yet, he still comes up short every time.

He's not quite sure what love is. He knows what it's supposed to be; devotion, protectiveness, comfort, affection.

Based on those qualifications, he and Andrew fit the bill, though people would probably debate the last one.

That's fine, fuck them.

Neil sees love reflected in Matt's eyes whenever he looks at Dan, the gooey kind, all open and adoring. He even sees it reflected in Kevin when he talks about Thea, except in his case it's expressed in pride.

Those things, Neil understands better. The actions, the tone. Those are the best ways to express anything. The words feel cheapened, lackluster.

He's not sure he will ever say them.

Aaron stares at him, expectantly, almost accusatory, as if he'll punch Neil for denying it. Funny, since Aaron would've loved nothing more than for Neil and Andrew to end things a few months ago. Now, Aaron simply doesn't want his brother manipulated.

As if Andrew would ever let anyone do that to him.

But in that realization, Neil finds his answer. He may never say it, but if someone were to ever ask, 'so, do you love Andrew?'

Neil would never even think of saying no.

And maybe that's all there is to it.

"Yeah, I do," Neil whispers, nodding and pushing the realization to the back of his head for now. He and Andrew haven't talked about it, Neil always assumed they'd never say it, he doesn't exactly need to. But...maybe...maybe it would be nice. Maybe one day Andrew would find it nice.

Aaron's shoulders sag in a mixture of relief and shame over his own feelings, no doubt seeing Katelyn's smile in his mind. Neil wonders what Aaron's go to image is, if it's Katelyn cheering him on at a game, or a much more private, intimate moment.

Neil sees Andrew's calm facade, lips around a cigarette, with a whole universe locked in his eyes. His expression is usually the same, squinting, like he's torn between 'stop staring' or 'never stop.'

Neil shivers.

Yes, if he didn't have Andrew...he's not sure what he would do. Andrew always told him he wasn't Neil's answer, but at this point they're so entangled Neil can't imagine a future without him.

Would he survive and make a good life for himself without Andrew? Most likely, but he really doesn't want to.

For Aaron it's the same, and Neil hates having to admit he's wrong. Looking at Aaron now, a war on his face and fingers itching for his phone, Neil gets it. Aaron has come just as far as the rest of them. He's much more alive now, in no small part thanks to Katelyn. Neil thinks he gets the pessimism, because he sees it in Andrew so often. Hell, his own paranoia has him in the same state somedays.

Aaron's feelings are the same as Andrew's, he said it himself. The assumption everything can fall apart at a moment’s notice is always looming in his mind, and he's never not expecting a catastrophe. The difference for the twins is now, despite that mindset, they fight against the urge to give up.

It's admirable, it's devotion, things he'd never thought he'd say about Aaron.

But here he is; it sucks to eat his words, even in his head. Finding out new things about Aaron is not something Neil planned to do when he walked out here, but he's not disappointed.

It's a start.

"I may not like you," Neil begins, as if to smother the unplanned warmth in his chest. He grimaces instead.

Aaron's head snaps up sharply, like lightning. "Like-fucking-wise--"

"But Katelyn does," Neil stresses, and enjoys watching Aaron's glare relax. It's impossible for him to be upset when she's mentioned, not even when he's angry with her, not really. "If you don't trust that by now you're a lost cause."

It's miles away from touching, from soothing, but it must work for Aaron well enough. It's Neil's own way of saying Aaron doesn't have to expect the worst with Katelyn, because he already has proof she'll weather through anything with him.

In the back of his mind Neil remembers grabbing Andrew's jacket sleeve before he could walk out the door one day, one very bad day. He remembers the words which left his own mouth: ‘don't give up on me.’

Eventually, Aaron settles back into the beanbag slowly, releasing it from his death grip. He tries to scoff, but he sounds too tired for it to be effective. "You're sure comforting for someone who doesn't like me."

And like that, it feels lighter in the room, because Aaron being annoying is normal.

Smartass.

Neil almost smirks; he's one to talk, Andrew would say.

"I don't like you, but I don't want to see you hurt." Neil shrugs. It's the truth; he has to keep Aaron from sinking to rock bottom, so Andrew doesn't worry. Neil knows Aaron still might not believe it, but Andrew will do most anything for him, and by extension..."I'll still watch your back."

Aaron quirks a brow, because he's an asshole like that. "That doesn't sound like dislike."

Neil's not quite ready to think about whether or not the statement is true, in the long run it doesn't matter. The outcome is the same.

"You're family," Neil states, and it holds all the explanation needed.

He's never hesitated to protect his family with his life, with all their awful baggage and selfishness. They stick together.

Aaron's eyes widen as he leans back into the chair, letting the words sink in. Neil tries not to show his own reluctance on his face, but he has to admit this is another way Aaron has gotten better.

He used to not acknowledge the upperclassman's existence outside of practice, but the fight has pretty much left him.

Essentially, even he has to admit he won't be rid of any of them any time soon.

"Yeah," Aaron breathes, breaking the awkward pause. He twiddles his fingers, fidgeting in a way which makes him seem so much younger, so much more vulnerable. His face settles on a glare eventually; he's not ready to look at Neil any other way. "Thanks for...watching out for Katelyn too."

It sounds like Aaron has a mouth full of nails when he says it, but it doesn't lessen the impact.

Okay, yeah. Maybe he's more progressed than Neil thought.

This is the man who wanted to beat him for even approaching Katelyn the first time.

Neil wants to open his mouth and refute it; he didn't do anything Katelyn hadn't already thought of in the past. When he gives her ideas, she sees them through. She's shown time and time again she can make even someone as hardheaded as Aaron bend, she's never needed any help from Neil and honestly, he's never given it unless he was pushed.

Before he can open his mouth, Aaron pins him to his chair with a steely gaze, voice quiet. "And...for Andrew too."

Neil feels his jaw click from how hard he tenses; Aaron is daring him now, daring him to argue. Bastard. He knows Neil's weakness.

And Neil hears the unspoken statement, sees it in Aaron's eyes, so loud and consuming: 'Even from me.'

Even from you.

Of course, Neil thinks. He'd kill for Andrew.

There's no way for him to deny it; Aaron has seen glimpses of it in Neil's eyes, the urge to throttle, to destroy anything in Andrew's way.

Out of respect for that fact, Neil keeps his mouth shut about Katelyn.

Fine.

It's so stupid, that Aaron has to corner Neil in order for him to accept even a piss poor attempt at kindness. It makes Neil grin, sharp and rueful.

It's the closest thing to an apology Neil is going to get from Aaron, his way of saying he was wrong to expect the worst from Andrew, to treat him like some unfeeling monster. Neil will take it for now, but if Aaron shows how little he believes in Andrew like that again...

Neil can't be held responsible for what happens.

Aaron throws up his hands, as if reading Neil's mind. "But no offense, I can't imagine you two having the 'we're exclusive' conversation."

Neil snorts, full on smirking now. "In Andrew's words 'you take up too much of my time for me to think about anyone else,' and that was that."

It was in fact not.

In reality the real conversation was much rawer, strung painfully along three days of trembling touches and long looks. The heaviness in Neil's chest had been unfamiliar, hollow and weighted all at once. He wondered, briefly, if it was what people felt like when they cried.

He hadn't cried in so long he wasn't sure. Sobs ripped through his chest with no outlet, no tears, no snot.

Like thunder, his heart pounding in his ears and pain beneath his skin.

Shockingly, it had been Andrew to put an end to the tension, to crowd him harshly against a wall and force them to talk about things Andrew hated talking about.

"I'm not supposed to be this for anyone, I wasn't supposed to live..."

"But you did. You are."

It's not a memory Neil plans on reliving here with Aaron; he won't be able to control his expression, his breathing.

He digs his fingers into the beanbag this time, and as hard as he tries, he can't get rid of his smile completely.

The night ended with Andrew holding him for the first time while they slept, and oh did they sleep. Almost twelve hours, the emotions taking a toll.

So yeah...

It's him and Andrew, until the end.

He knows Aaron must see through the lie too, at least a little, but he doesn't comment.

"What a bastard," he says instead, giving Neil a way out. It's not like he wants to hear Neil gush about Andrew either.

Not that he would.

Probably.

"You have that in common," Neil replies.

Aaron shrugs, not put off in the slightest. They didn't get to where they are now by being nice people. "Well either way I'm...that’s good or whatever. You know if he cheated on you I'd have to kick his ass."

Neil barks a laugh, so loud and out of character he claps a hand over his mouth to stop it. The idea of Aaron getting so much as a hit in is hilarious.

He can't even imagine it.

Then, Neil really processes his words. He's not sure what look is on his face, but it's disbelieving enough to ruffle Aaron into raising his voice.

"What?" Aaron shouts, and seeing him flush is so unusual without Katelyn around Neil almost can't comprehend it. "I don't care for you either or get what he sees in you, but I didn't go through all the trouble of breaking our deal and going to therapy to let him throw away something that's actually good for him."

Neil lets the annoyance roll off his shoulders; he could just as easily hurt Andrew, but people never assume it's him. Not like he would, but he wishes people would stop placing the blame prematurely. Aside from that...

Aaron admitted Neil is good for Andrew. Aloud. To Neil.

The smirk which grows on Neil's face is absolutely shit eating. "Sounds to me like you like me."

And, either from exhaustion or the inability to fight it any longer, Aaron lets out a heavy sigh. "Maybe one day, Josten."

"Like-fucking-wise," Neil parrots, and for once, the silence is almost comfortable. An itch under Neil's skin tells him it might be the first of more to come.

But, everything ends.

Neil's phone dings on the kitchen counter, and Aaron's head flies to it before he sees it's not his own. Neil, on the other hand--"Oh! There it is!"

He knew he left it somewhere.

Aaron's scowl is something Neil dutifully ignores as he hops up to swipe his phone. It's got twenty percent. That's an improvement, if you ask him. "I swear to fuck, Josten--"

Neil waves him off, swiping his lockscreen (it's a blurred picture of Andrew, because he refused to let Neil take one). He frowns when he sees Andrew's name in his new messages. It's not that they don't text, but it's still new for them to do it without reason.

It's early in the night, for Andrew anyways, and for a moment Neil worries something happened.

A: heading back

Relief floods his chest, mixed with what Andrew would no doubt find an annoying dose of curiosity. Neil can feel Aaron's eyes on him, like he's a zoo animal. He's used to it; the Foxes are improving, but his relationship with Andrew is a mystery in their eyes.

They're not exactly subtle.

N: that was fast. how was Roland?

He doesn't mean to sound suspicious, and it's not for the reasons Aaron might think. He's not sure why Andrew needed to go to Eden's, but if it ended in some kind of fight...

There's a pause, which he notes with some tension in his stomach. Andrew texts fast usually.

A: ok. didn't get to spend much time there so we didn't talk

Neil's brow furrows, but Andrew knows him well, and his explanation comes quickly after.

A: katelyn was there, I'm bringing her back

A: idiot rolled her ankle

Neil's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. And Andrew says he's the interesting one. Neil can't help but be amused at the thought of Andrew being trapped in a car with the bubbly girl. Katelyn isn't exactly scared of Andrew anymore, but they don't talk directly. It really is a night of developments. Neil bites his lip to keep his grin at bay, feeling Aaron's eyes on him.

Oh, Neil is going to enjoy this.

He's not worried about Katelyn, just a bit surprised Andrew would bother with her. But, like with most things Andrew does, Neil accepts the facts and doesn't dwell on much else. If Andrew wants to explain he will.

It's not like Andrew will hurt Katelyn unless she deserves it.

N: okay. I'll let aaron know

He tacks on the purple devil emoji, the one Andrew showed him in a rare moment of instruction, and hopes his intent is received.

A: I should've never taught you what those mean

N: you're amused I can tell

A: maybe

Neil smiles then, a little less evil. The warmth which comes with Andrew pools in his gut and he shivers, unable to help it. The ghost of Andrew's fingers graze his cheek; if he were here he'd push Neil's face for smiling that way.

He never thought a 'maybe' could mean so much, but nowadays it's as good as a 'you're right' to Neil's ears.

Neil thinks that's the end of it when another message comes in.

A: Neil

He pauses, waits. Nothing. It feels like the clench of Andrew's jaw, the consideration before he speaks. Never impulsive, because he doesn't believe in regret.

N: yes?

The little speech bubble pops up to show Andrew is typing, and it starts and stops over and over. The tapping of fingers on a whiskey glass, Neil throwing off the rhythm of Andrew's routine.

It's something Andrew welcomes now, most of the time.

A: you'd probably like the stupid song they played in the club

An incomplete answer.

Neil's smile is uncontrollable at that point, it splits his face in a better way than hot coils, lifting the scarred skin and giving him wrinkles. Andrew isn't always able to say what he's thinking, what he feels, and this is one of those times. They're frequent, proof of progression which is always a tug of war. A few steps forward, some back. But every time it happens now, Andrew offers him a concession, licking wounds which aren't there just because.

Just in case.

But Neil's never hurt, Andrew wouldn't hurt him. The effort means more to him than he can possibly say, because he never asked Andrew for it, doesn't need it. Andrew is giving it, trying anyways.

Even when he doesn't get to the end of the road, Neil can see the destination.

He might not get to hear whatever Andrew really tried to say, not anytime soon, but he knows the truth in what Andrew did say: 'I'm thinking of you.'

Neil releases a shuddering breath.

N: I want to listen later

N: with you

N: drive safe

He won't.

A: maybe

'Okay.'

Neil pockets his phone as it hits below ten percent, and when he hears Aaron cough awkwardly, he remembers the rest of his objective.

Keeping his face blank is a talent he can only thank his boyfriend for.

"Andrew's with Katelyn," he says, as innocently as possible, moving to brew some hot chocolate for when the blond returns. He gets as far as pouring the powder when Aaron looks up, eyeing him as if he's trying to parse through his Spanish homework (without Neil's help).

"Oh, okay," he says, unsure. Neil raises his head as he stirs, watching Aaron blink once, twice.

He clinks his spoon against the rim of the pan, and hears a scream.

"WHAT."

--

Neil counts the night as a win on account of Aaron jamming his hip against the dorm railing in his haste to haul ass down to the parking lot.

The roar of the Maserati's engine is music to Neil's ears. He and Andrew spend time apart often, but he simply prefers to have him home.

He ignores the look he gets from Andrew as his eyes flit between Neil and Aaron, a silent question. Neil tries not to groan; he knows he'll have to admit it eventually, but his new Aaron revelations aren't things he wants to return to so soon.

When Aaron nods at Andrew, the hint of a smile present and Katelyn against his shoulder, Neil is the only one who knows it for the apology it is. Andrew didn't let him down, of course he wouldn't.

As Aaron turns towards the dorms with Katelyn, fussing and kissing her cheek, Neil doesn't miss the brief glance he sends his way. 'Sorry for doubting.'

And it's not enough for Neil, but it's a start.

With Aaron gone, Neil takes a bold step in Andrew's direction. The magnetic pull is too much, and he raises his brow at the twitch in Andrew's face. People who believe Neil can't flirt have never seen him get under Andrew's skin; it's shockingly easy for him.

Andrew, ever one for reciprocation, takes his own step forward. Neil sees the amused glint shine through the dark, barely there but so apparent to him.

Despite that, Neil doesn't close the gap. He sees the lines of tension wrapped over Andrew's shoulders, not put there by him. They've been there since he got out of the car with Katelyn; something had put him on edge, making him extra cautious, over thinking.

But Neil is there to smooth those points of tension.

Maybe Andrew and Katelyn did get to talking, it sure would be fitting after the night Neil had.

He walks over slowly, letting Andrew set the boundaries if he needs to. He doesn't budge.

"Can I help?" Neil whispers, and expects Andrew to roll his eyes.

'Don't be dramatic,' or 'I don't need help’ seems impending.

Instead, Andrew sighs, tugging at the chain around his neck.

"You tend to," he says, like it's an annoyance. "You do."

Neil grins, wrapping one hand in Andrew's jacket sleeve. He can tell Andrew is still trying to say something, but he's not ready. Neil doesn't need him to be. Though, with the urgency Andrew took with him to Eden's, Neil figures he'll find out soon.

In the meantime, Neil bats Andrew's hand away to pull out his necklace. The little cigarette had made him crack up when he saw it; he didn't think Andrew would actually take to wearing it, but then he'd seen ‘pipe dream’ engraved on it…

Neil hardly sees him remove it.

"You need one too," Andrew mumbles. "I'm tired of being the only one looking like an idiot."

"Get me one then," Neil shoots back, not bothering to point out how Andrew doesn't give a shit what people think of him. It's a joke, but sometimes flustering Neil is more important to Andrew than keeping his pride intact.

"I'm looking still," he says, yanking the chain away from Neil's fingers and stuffing it below his shirt. The movement is irritated, his body language is not.

And oh, that smile on Neil's face must be back, because Andrew snaps at him not a moment later. "Stop it."

"You first," Neil retorts, stupidly, definitely not his best work. But he can't focus with Andrew reaching out for him, pulling at his forearms until Neil's wrists are settling gently on his shoulders. The few inches he has on Andrew never fails to make him laugh, but Andrew's stare is so intense at the moment, the sounds dies on Neil's lips.

The lips Andrew keeps looking at.

Neil leans in, and as his lips graze Andrew's, he smirks. "Did you enjoy your girl talk?"

The blond tenses up in an instant, like hell has frozen over. The stare he levels at Neil is about as unamused as it gets. "You have never heard of a mood in your life."

Andrew makes a show of shoving Neil away while he laughs, but Neil latches on, because he's a shit like that and Andrew loves it. "No, I just know getting you back into the mood is easy," he whispers in Andrew's ear, his thumb sliding down his neck. He delights in the shiver he gets in return.

"Your arrogance is putting you on thin ice," Andrew grits out.

"Do something about it."

When Andrew kisses him, his hands hold Neil's face, and it's his favorite. Neil is pretty sure Andrew knows it, but he'd never point it out, for fear Andrew would stop in retaliation.

Neil is taller, but somehow he ends up surging up to the tips of his toes, the kiss electrifying for something so chaste, a kiss Andrew doesn't even deepen. They're in public, he won't do it, but it leaves Neil yearning anyways.

"It wasn't revolting," Andrew admits when he pulls away, his thumbs rubbing firmly into Neil's face scars.

For a moment, Neil's mind is so hazy he doesn't get it, and he blinks until Andrew catches on.

"The cheer--Katelyn."

Oh. Neil lets his eyes widen; it's not that he sees Andrew as an unfeeling monster, he would never. But...Katelyn is not his type of person. It almost makes Neil laugh, imagining Katelyn with her neverending stream of talking points, attempting to fill the silence of Andrew's Maserati.

Again, it's a start.

Maybe he can trade his conversation with Aaron for Andrew's with Katelyn.

"I'm proud of you," Neil says with a grin, and doesn't elaborate that he means he's proud Andrew is fixing things with Aaron in more ways than therapy. One gap at a time, he makes the necessary choices to sew up the majority of the wound. He'll always be Andrew, holding his brother and Katelyn at a distance, not compromising his own self and beliefs.

It'll never fit together quite right, far from perfect, but they're making their own way.

"For what?" Andrew scowls at him, moving his hands from under Neil's eyes to tug at his mouth. Neil fights him, but the grin can't hold up against the roughness.

Neil lets it go with a wink, which only makes Andrew frown more as Neil turns around. Katelyn moves slow, and he can see Aaron making her even slower by worrying too much. They're barely at the door. Neil sighs, shaking his head. "Ready to go up?"

They may not have privacy, but they'll have more than this...

"No," Andrew says, grabbing the sleeve of Neil's hoodie.

Neil reaches up to tap at Andrew's pulse, patient but not willing to be completely passive in this case. He's missed Andrew all day; he hopes his touch is enough to communicate to Andrew how he doesn't have to try so hard right then.

Neil doesn't need him to keep trying to force out words he's not ready to say; Andrew already had a lot taken out of him after tonight.

Neil too, honestly.

Andrew grunts, turning back to the car. It's the only answer Neil needs, and he gratefully hops into the passenger seat. Neil will follow Andrew wherever he decides to take him, for however long Andrew needs to clear his head.

It's nice, to run without running away.

Andrew's hand grazes his before clutching the gear shift, and they veer out of the parking lot with zero caution.

This is it, he thinks. Andrew's reckless driving after midnight, and a hand in his, with lots of time left to say what needs to be said.

This is it. Four truths: sunrise, Abram, death, us.

Briefly, as he remembers Aaron's confessions, he wonders, hopes even, that the twin feels the same about his life. No, he knows Aaron feels the same way about Katelyn.

That's not even a question.

Neil smiles as he rolls down the window, ignoring Andrew's comment about how he's like a dog, and jots down another line on the list of things to admire about Aaron.

Begrudgingly, of course.

[forgetmenotaftg]

It Gets Better

Dan wasn’t one to scream. It took a lot to faze her, to surprise her.

Still, she felt that she wouldn’t be completely alone if she screamed at this.

This being a kid standing in her kitchen, wielding a kitchen knife.

“Who are you? Where am I?” The boy asked.

Dan shook her head, confused, but she caught on. She responded, “I’m Dan. We’re at Palmetto State University.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Liar.”

She shook her head, but the boy’s eyes only squinted further. When Dan looked closer, she could see a purple shadow on the kid’s cheekbone. She held up her hands like she was trying to calm a wild animal, which this kid might as well have been.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

The boy paused, took a long, drawn out breath, and spoke. “My name is Andreas.”

Dan was surprised for a moment. She hadn’t expected the kid to respond. Dan studied the boy while he gave her a scrutinizing look. He had blue eyes, light enough to be blue, but dark enough that it was hard to see in the dim lighting.

His hair was a dark brown, but what troubled Dan the most were the bruises all over the child in varying colors.

Violet, yellow, green, red, each mark was of a different spectrum.

Like a rainbow made of pain, Dan thought.

It was hard to see in the dim, but as Dan’s sight adjusted, she could see that the bruises were everywhere. Up the boy’s collar, his arms, his legs, his face, they were covered in sickening shades.

But what troubled Dan the most was his hands.

There were fresh, dark marks, and tiny slices overlaying them.

It looked painful. It must have stung to even make a grip, but the injured hands holding the knife didn’t waver from their target. She didn’t even know what sorts of marks decorated the boy under his clothes.

And that was when Dan spotted a stain on his pant leg. It looked red.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“I’m fine,” He said.

It struck Dan then, how similar that sounded to Neil. The boy said in the same way as Neil did, too, when he first came to Palmetto.

The boy’s tone said, I’m used to this, and I need to be fine.

It was then that the boy collapsed onto the cheap plastic and wood floor, knife clattered to the side, mouth open in a silent gasp of pain.

His eyes shuttered once, twice before closing.

Oh no.

>>

“What the hell are you talking about.”

“I don’t know! I just- there’s a kid in my dorm, he’s like twelve-ish, and his leg is stabbed. I do not know what to do. Just- just get here quick.”

The line clicked off.

Dan took a shaky breath, then clutched at her phone harder.

Down the hallway and through the first door on the left, lay a boy with bruises on every inch of skin, and a stab wound in his left leg.

On highway 62, Andrew Minyard was driving twenty miles over the speed limit to get to the Fox Tower.

In Fox Tower, Danielle Wilds was attempting to barricade the room where the boy lay with a dresser without making a sound.

In the first room in the left dwelled Nathaniel Wesninski. He was dreaming.

(It was a nightmare)

>>

“You stupid child, I have explained this to you seven times.”

Mary brought the ruler down on Andreas’ hand. He didn’t wince, though. He just erased the incorrect word and scribbled down the correct letters. But still, his mother wasn’t pleased.

“How are you going to fit into the sixth grade when you cannot even spell? If you do not learn quickly, your father will come. You know what happens then.”

Andreas ducked his head down and nodded. His hands ached with every movement of the pen, but he ignored it and jotted more words and pronunciations.

Eventually, through enough swats and cuts, Andreas stopped seeing his hands as his.

Instead, he imagined that his hands were petals. Delicate, soft, but still unwilling to tear. Marks upon marks appeared, but still, Andreas saw lined blossoms instead of injured hands.

>>

Andreas startled awake on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. He counted to ten in english, then in german in his head.

That was how long it took for Andreas to steady his breathing and compartmentalize his injuries.

There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the room with Andreas, so he opened his eyes and sat up as quietly as he could.

His leg felt strange.

It seemed as though someone had bandaged it. Maybe his mother had done it. Probably not.

The wound wasn’t important enough to waste supplies on.

Andreas wasn’t important enough to waste supplies on.

>>

The door was unlocked.

It was unlocked, but it wouldn’t open.

The door was unlocked, but Andreas couldn’t get out.

Trapped. That was what Andreas was.

He’d tried pushing the door open, but something blocked the entire doorway. Somebody had heard him, too. Softened footsteps had sounded right after the groan and creak of his attempts.

Eventually, he’d given up on escaping. There was a window, but it was too high up and steep to climb down from.

But through the glass pane, Andreas could see cherry blossoms whirling around in the wind.

>>

Dan decided that the kid was Neil. It was too unlikely to be anyone else.

Neil had been in her dorm to avoid Andrew and Kevin’s argument, and Dan had gone out to buy some food. That was when she discovered the boy. He did look suspiciously like Neil, too.

But all of that reasoning didn’t explain why Neil was suddenly a child. There was no plausible reason for that, besides magic.

And magic didn’t exist, did it?

>>

Andreas woke up to the door opening.

It was almost silent, but he’d learned to wake up at any sound while sleeping. At the doorway, a blond man stood. He didn’t look surprised that Andreas had woken up.

He watched the man carefully, when he spoke two words that froze

Andreas’s very blood.

“Nathaniel Wesninski.”

The man continued, unfazed by Andreas’s shock.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” The man said.

Andreas let himself breathe shakily for a moment, then spoke in the calmest voice he could muster.

“That’s not my name, sir. I think you are confused.”

At that, the man seemed amused, as his brow twitched up and he looked disbelieving.

“Liar. You are Nathaniel Wesninski, and are pretending to be someone else.”

Andreas’s eyes darted back and forth, trying to find a way to escape this man, who clearly knew who he was.

He opened his mouth, and got ready to lie, lie, lie.

>>

Dan almost screamed when Andrew walked out of the room with the kid in tow.

“Hello.”

The boy’s voice was surprisingly smooth. It was high, too, still containing just a little trace of childhood in it.

“H-hi!”

“You’re Dan, right?”

Dan eagerly nodded, and the kid’s mouth tightened at the sight.

“And you’re Andreas?” She asked.

He nodded.

“Do you want some lunch?”

Another nod. Fake brown eyes angled at the ground.

“Then let’s go eat.”

>>

Andrew watched Neil- no, Andreas sit in the backseat of the maserati. Andreas didn’t sit like a normal twelve year old would. He didn’t swing his legs, or look out the window, or fidget.

He just stayed perfectly still. Like a statue. Andrew didn’t know why, but it bothered him. Maybe it was because the kid was what Neil had once been.

Andrew knew that at this point, Neil had already escaped Nathan with his mother. But there was still a minor stab wound in Andreas’s leg, and bruises all over. Andrew knew that Mary had been abusive to Neil, but he’d never pushed it, seeing as Neil still believed it was for the best.

Andrew had learned to accept that, but the new marks on Andreas’s hands and body brought up the old hatred he’d kept inside when Neil had first told him about Mary.

But Andreas wouldn’t want to hear about his dead mother, so Andrew ignored just how silent the boy was.

>>

Andreas was picking at his fries at McDonalds, when he looked up with his fake brown eyes, and asked, “Is my mother dead?”

Next to Andreas, Dan sucked in a panicked breath, and Andrew watched the kid with a calculating gaze. A normal person would probably say something about she was somewhere else, but there was no reason to lie.

“Yes.” Andrew said.

Dan’s hissed “Andrew!” was lost in Andreas’s quiet voice.

“How’d she die? Did my father die before her, or after?” He asked.

Andrew answered both questions unflinchingly, while Dan looked more and more panicked, probably scared that Andreas would cry or run. He did neither of those things, but Andrew saw him clench his fists under the table, and his mouth tremble.

The kid was good at hiding things, Andrew could give him that. A sob story that the rest of the foxes would probably fuss over. He knew that they would find out eventually, so when Andreas said he was done with the Happy Meal, despite not having eaten a bite of his burger, Andrew sped to the Fox Tower with Dan watching nervously in the backseat.

>>

The reactions of the Foxes was just what Andrew had expected. Nicky had been shocked at first, then started to coo over Andreas. Renee had watched from a distance, with Allison. Aaron hadn’t cared, and Kevin had almost immediately asked about the upcoming exy game, while Andreas looked extremely shocked at the sight of Kevin.

Matt had attempted to strike a conversation with Andreas, to no avail. And all throughout the whole ordeal, Andreas had looked very uncomfortable. When he’d requested to go the bathroom, he hadn’t come out, even after twenty minutes had passed.

Surprisingly, Renee was the one to knock on the door first. Her normally sweet voice was rougher, more real.

“Andreas? Are you still in there? It’s Renee. I know it’s a bit overwhelming, meeting us, but I promise, we won’t make you go out if you don’t want to,” she said. “I won’t lie. We all know what happened with your father, and I know it must be a shock, finding out that both your parents are dead in a day, but we all understand. The Foxes are a family of messed-up people, and you might find that some of us have more in common with you than you think.”

A moment passed, then Andrew could hear shuffling behind the locked door.

“I want to speak to Renee. Alone.” Andreas said, muffled.

Turning away, Andrew said, “Everybody get out.”

For once, the Foxes all listened, shuffling outside, undoubtedly to try to listen through the door.

At Renee’s meaningful glance, Andrew stepped outside as well.

>>

Renee knocked again, and said softly, “Andreas? Everybody’s out. I swear.”

A pause, and then the door came open.

Andreas came out, and Renee’s heart broke at how his shoulders curved in, how his battered hands clenched as he walked over the threshold.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Renee asked.

She watched Andreas breathe for a minute, before he spoke.

“I don’t know what to think. I woke up in a stranger’s bed, and apparently, my mom is dead, my father’s dead, there a bunch of people who apparently know my whole life’s events, and the craziest thing is- I’m supposed to be twenty.”

Renee was silent.

“Can you tell me what happened to your hands?” she asked.

Andreas immediately looked suspicious, and put his hands behind his back.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Renee said.

And for a tense moment, he didn’t. Then Renee watched as he crumbled.

“I mess up sometimes. In German. Mom doesn’t like it when I do.”

Renee clenched her fists, but didn’t say anything, until Andreas looked up, and his scowl lessened.

“I’m glad he-I have all these friends. They seem okay. This life seems okay.” he murmured.

And Renee, dropping her nice-christian-girl face for a moment, answered back, “Trust me. It gets a lot better.”

>>

Neil Josten woke up in the dorm room of the Fox Tower, surrounded by his friends, his family, the reason it got so much better, and took the day off to watch the cherry blossoms fall, while Andrew sat with him.

Written by @alvarez-sara and posted here with permission.

[foxeshaveclaws]

You asked for prompts? Maybe something with the foxes seeing Neil’s scars for the first time? Especially like the bullet wound? I feel like other than Andrew and Renee they still haven’t grasped what all he went through(and maybe Renee and Andrew haven’t as well)

Okay I’m not exactly sure if this is what you wanted but here we go!!! I hope you enjoy it! (under a cut because it got a little long)

Despite everything, Neil still didn't like changing changing in front of the other Foxes. Old habits combined themselves with a general uneasiness that seeped into Neil’s core made it hard for him to do it, despite wanting to. After years on the run with no one but his mom at his side, it was hard to admit that he had a family again. He still got tripped up when they did kind things for him and still never knew how to respond when someone paid him a compliment. But despite this, he wanted them to know. He wanted to share more things about his life with them. He wanted to be seen. He wanted to be understood.

The first time he took his shirt off in front of them, it was the middle of Fall term of his second year. It was a movie night in the girls room with just the original Foxes. All of them were there, even Aaron, just because he had nothing better to do since Katelyn was at a mandatory Vixen retreat. It was a simple night filled with as much friendship and general unanimously that the Foxes could muster. It was an aggressive mess to say the least but it wasn't as bad as it could be. 

Still, Neil ended up with a Pepsi down the front of his shirt and an idea in his brain. 

Nicky, the one whose Pepsi ended up on Neil’s shirt, was apologizing profusely. Neil ignored him for the most part, deciding to shed his soaked and sticky shirt instead.

Silence reigned the room. Neil heard Nicky give a quiet gasp and Matt’s muffled swear. Dan had her fingers curled on Renee’s arm hard enough that Neil expected to see bruises the next day. Renee herself had her brows furrowed. Aaron was looking at him with curiosity and the fury on Allison’s face was palpable. The only ones who weren’t reacting were Andrew and Kevin. Andrew had seen and felt them before and wasn't startled at the sight of them though he did quirk his eyebrow at Neil’s decision. Kevin’s face was an impassive mask that could rival Andrews. All of them were looking at Neil, which is what he was going for but it still left his skin crawling for the moments it took him to grab Andrew’s hoodie from where it was hanging off the side of the couch. He tugged it on with a quick, decisive method before schooling his face to look at his family.

Allison was the first to speak. “I think I speak for the group when I say, polietly, what the actual fuck, dude. I knew you didn't change in front of people for a reason but holy shit. Was that a bullet wound?”

Neil answered with a shrug. “I told you I ran for nearly a decade. Bullets were common place. That one is the only time I fully got hit though. All the other times were just grazes or hit my vest.”

“Your vest.” Dan said blankly. “A bullet proof vest?”

“Yeah,Mom always made me wear one under my clothes when she could. They don’t let you wear them in airports though. I learned that the hard way.”

Matt’s face was ashen and he shook his head. “Jesus Christ, Neil.You do realize that's not normal, right?”

“Uh.” Neil stuttered. Nicky gaped at him. “I’m coming to that conclusion.”

“Thank you for showing us, Neil.”Renee smiled at him. If it had been last year, he would’ve brushed her off but Neil knew well enough now to know that Renee meant it. 

He nodded. “I wanted to. I'm still not going to change in the locker room though.”

“We wouldn't ask you to.” Dan gave him her most comforting Captain grin. 

“You don’t seem startled by this.” Andrew finally spoke, sliding his eyes to Kevin. “Anything to add, Day?”

Kevin scowled. “I’ve seen a few of them before. Besides, I’ve met Neil’s father first hand. I understand the type of marks the man makes on a person.”

The room erupted once again. 

“You’ve seen them?”

“When? How?”

“You met the butcher?”

Neil narrowed his eyes at Kevin. “Did you not tell them?”

“I only told them what was pertinent at the time. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And what exactly was pertinent at the time?”

“Just who your father was and his connection to the Moriyama’s.”

“Is there more?” Nicky interrupted this time.

Neil and Kevin made eye contact, willing the other one to talk. Neil lost, if only because it was his story to tell. 

“Me and Kevin met once when we were kids, before me and Mom started running. I already had a few of these scars back then so Kevin has seen the older ones.”

“Why? Why did you two meet?”

Neil took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say and how to explain it all. Hs knee jerk reaction was the lie, lie through his teeth and come up with a story that would be more palpable to the people he was talking to but they didn't deserve that. They were his friends, his family, his Foxes. They deserved to know what might've been. “Jean was number 3 but I was suppose to be the first number 3, the backliner to compliment Kevin and Riko but Mom took me and ran before that could happen. I had gone to The Nest to play with Kevin and Riko and as part of that,” Neil gritted his teeth, “they had my father kill someone in front of us. So Kevin has seen a lot of my scars and he’s seen my father work first hand.”

Kevin nodded, finally taking his eyes off Neil and took a swig from the bottle of vodka at his side. He said nothing, leaving the silence up to Neil and the others to fill.

“Jesus Christ.” Dan ran a hand down her face. “Everything I learn about your life makes me want to just hide you somewhere where you can't get hurt.”

Neil gave a shy, confused smile. “Thanks?”

Allison huffed and reached over to ruffle Neil’s hair. “You're gonna kill me one day, kid. But for real, what Renee said. Thanks for sharing, even if it always looks like you're in pain while you do it.”

“I just...wanted you to know. It seemed fair.” 

Mat shook his head again. “I don't understand you and I don't know if I ever will.”

“Oh I know I never will.” Nicky added brightly. 

“Pay attention to the goddamn movie.” Aaron scowled and the conversation petered off.

Neil leaned back in his spot, Andrew next to him. He gently linked their pinkies together and Andrew didn't stop him, just kept his pinkie linked. Neil let a gentle smile wash across his face and turned his attention back to the movie still playing. Even though it hurt, letting people in could be pretty nice.

[tiptapricot]

Okay uhhhh fanfic request. Batman Beyond where Terry ends up getting a Robin, (either Miguel from the episode Unmask, or Dak from Where’s Terry) and Matt finds out, that a) his big brother is Batman, and b) Terry got ‘some random kid’ to be Robin and not him, his own little brother.

Thanks for the request anon! You can find this on AO3 here. Enjoy!

Matt was home alone when it happened. Terry had gone out to run errands for Mr. Wayne and their mom had gone shopping for dinner. It wasn’t anything unusual. The same exact thing happened every few weeks. Matt had the TV to keep him occupied and there were snacks in the fridge if he wanted anything. The evening had been going as per usual, and Matt had even managed to dig out one of the boxes of Valentine's chocolates Terry never ate, when he had heard something from down the hall. He had turned down the volume of the TV and gotten up, walking as slowly and quietly as he could towards the sound. 

His mom had always told him to be careful of intruders. They had good locks on their windows and doors, but like she always said, you could never be too careful in Gotham.

As Matt got closer, he realized the sound was voices, two of them, coming from Terry’s room. Of course, his first thought was that Terry had snuck Dana into the house, and he was getting ready to throw open the door and tease them, when he realized that the second voice didn’t sound like Dana at all, it sounded like a little boy.

“You can’t just follow me home! How am I gonna explain this to my folks?”

“I wanted to see where you live. It’s been almost two months now and what do I get? Your name. I don’t even get to see your face, and it’s really starting to get on my nerves. You know how much a name means in Gotham? Nothing! There are like, what, a million Terrys? And what kind of lame name is ‘Terry’ anyways? I mean you can’t blame me for—”

 “Okay, okay, you can come over for a bit, but as soon as my mom and brother get home you leave, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

There was a slight shuffling sound, and a bump that sounded like someone falling over, before the voices picked up again.

“This is your room?”

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

“It’s lame. Do you not like pictures or something?”

“I don’t exactly spend a lot of time in here you know?”

“So do I get to see your face now or what?”

Matt pressed his ear closer to the door. What on earth was going on?

“Only if you promise not to make my life hell if you see me in public.”

“Hey! You know me. I don’t snitch.”

“Fine. There, happy?”

The kid laughed.

“You’re just as lame as your name. You look like one of the pretty boy biker kids in my neighborhood.”

“Gee, thanks. Now remember what I said, my mom and Matt are out shopping right now but they should be back soon. The second the car rolls up you’re right back out that window. Understand?”

“I’m not some dumb kid, man, I know what I’m doing.”

“Right, because you totally knew what you were doing when those dregs beat your ass tod—”

Matt almost fell over when the door opened in front of him. He stumbled and jumped back, eyes wide as he came face to face with a great, big bat symbol.

“Holy…” he breathed. 

“Matt?” Terry’s eyes went wide. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you go out with mom?”

He couldn’t… Terry couldn’t be Batman. Batman was strong and schway, like the schwayest hero ever, and Terry… Terry was just his lame older brother. He wasn’t special, he was a huge jerk if anything. A boring guy who never made time to spend with his family. Because he can’t. Because he’s Batman. He’s standing right there, he’s wearing the suit, he’s Batman. 

Matt took a step back, then two more. Terry followed, still trying to come up with an explanation.

“I— it’s not what it looks like I swear it’s just a, it’s a…It’s a school project! One of my friends made this for me and I was just… I was just trying it on!”

“What’s goin’ on Terry?” The other voice came from inside the room and the kid himself followed.

Robin.

It had been a media sensation when Robin had first been sighted a few months before. Matt had gotten all the toys that had burst onto the shelves. Robin had quickly become his hero, almost more than Batman was. He loved to tell his mom “He’s my age! I could be a hero like him, just watch!” And now here the kid was, standing in the middle of his brother’s room like it was the most normal thing in the world. He was a bit taller than Matt, and he’d pulled back his mask to reveal a round faced kid with dark eyebrows and a permanent smirk.

“Woah…” Matt looked between the two of them. Batman. Robin. Terry. Robin. Terry. Some random kid.

“You’re Batman?!” He didn’t mean to yell. He also didn’t mean to trip over himself as he ran for the living room. Some kind of trick, it had to be. Maybe Spellbinder, or some new villain that messed up what you saw.

“Woah woah woah, hey Twip, where’re you going?!” A pair of smooth black arms wrapped around Matt’s stomach, hoisting him up into the air. The texture felt so wrong. It was soft, almost like skin, but it was too smooth, too cold, too firm.

“Let me go!” He tried to wriggle free but the arms were too strong. Too strong to be human.

Definitely Spellbinder. Or something worse.

“I said let go!” Matt twisted around and hit Not-Terry as hard as he could. Not-Terry let go of him with a grunt of “What the hell Mattie?” And then Matt was running for the door again.

It wasn’t Terry. It wasn’t Batman. It was something, someone, who had broken into their house or was making him see things or…

“Hey bud, can you please look at me?”

“No.” Matt tried to open the door but it was locked. His mom must’ve locked it when she left. He didn’t turn around, he just pressed his face into the door and crossed his arms.

The voice, the voice that sounded so very much like Terry, but that couldn’t be Terry, laughed.

“What are you doing Mattie?”

“You’re not Batman. You’re not Terry.”

“Oh bud. I wanted to tell you. Could you turn around, just for a second, and let me explain?”

Matt pressed his forehead even harder into the metal of the door, counting to ten.

One.

It wasn’t Batman because Terry wasn’t Batman.

Two.

Terry wasn’t Batman because Batman was a hero.

Three.

Terry wasn’t a hero, not really.

Four.

He made Matt laugh and he hugged him a lot, but he always left.

Five.

Just like dad.

Six.

Dad left and Terry came back into his life like he hadn’t been gone for nearly three years.

Seven.

Terry never had fun, he was too tired and too serious.

Eight.

He didn’t want to do things with Matt, even though he wasn’t that much older than him.

Nine.

Terry wasn’t schway or strong, he couldn’t do cool flips or fly a jet or beat up bad guys.

Ten.

So Terry wasn’t Batman, and the person behind him wasn’t Terry.

So who was he?

“Mattie, please?”

“Your brother’s acting like a big baby.” Anger flared in Matt’s chest.

“I am not!” He spun around without a second thought.

The kid, the kid that looked like Robin but wasn’t Robin, just smiled.

“Not now Dak.” Not-Terry hissed. He looked back and met Matt’s eyes. It was a look he’d seen a few times, like when he’d come home after Batman had saved him from Stalker, or after Matt had scraped his knee at Cheesy Dan’s. It was the look that Terry gave him that was soft and worried and… and Not-Terry looked so much like Terry.

“You… you are Batman.” Matt’s eyes widened, then went wider, his fingers reaching out to touch the red of the symbol covering his brother’s, his actual brother’s, chest.

“I didn’t think I’d have to tell you like this, and I definitely didn’t expect you to run.”

Matt was speechless. He guessed he finally understood what people meant when they said the word starstruck.

It wasn’t an illusion. Terry, Terry his brother, was Batman.

“Schway.” he whispered.

“Are you done freaking out now? I tell you, none of my friends would react like that. That was real weird.”

Terry glared at the kid. What had he called him? Dak? What kind of name was that anyway?

“Listen, I guess I better go. See you when something interesting happens and we can kick some butt. Thanks for finally letting me see your face by the way.”

Dak pulled his mask over his eyes and walked back into Terry’s room. Matt heard the click of the window lock and a whoosh of air and then there was silence.

“So… I guess we need to talk.”

***

Terry got a call when he was changing in his room. He was trying to talk quietly but Matt heard him loud and clear.

“Yeah I know, but some stuff came up okay? Tell the commish I’ll be there in half an hour or something.”

“...”

“No it can’t wait.”

“...”

“Uh… Mattie found out.”

“...”

“Yeah I know but I can’t erase his memory or anything! He saw what he saw and now we have to deal with it!”

“...”

“Yeah I’m gonna talk with him right now. Right. See you later.”

Terry came out of his room a few minutes later dressed in his normal clothes. He was carrying the batsuit, folded up nice and neat in a little square with the cowl pinched between his fingers.

The shock still hadn’t fully worn off, and it was still weird to see the costume sitting in his brother’s lap when he joined Matt on the couch, but at the same time, Matt was excited. He was talking to Batman for Pete’s sake.

“What’s it like to fight bad guys? How did you become Batman? Can you show me any moves?” It all tumbled out like a dam breaking.

“Alright Twip, calm down.” Terry was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Before anything you gotta promise me you won’t tell Mom about this, okay?”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

“Or any of your friends.”

“Okay okay I get it!” Matt reached over to feel the suit again. It was still that weird texture, almost like silk skin.

“Alright then. What do you want to know? One question at a time.”

Matt opened his mouth but paused for a moment, thinking. He wanted to ask a lot of things but… there was one question he had to ask.

“Is this why you’re always gone?”

Terry blinked owlishly.

“I—uh yeah it’s a pretty time consuming job bud.”

Right. Batman had to fight bad guys and Gotham had a lot of bad guys. Still…

“Mom wishes you were home more y’know. I’ve heard her talk to her friends about it.” He tried to be casual about it, staring intently at the red and black material of the suit. That was all he could really focus on, it was weird to look Terry in the eyes.

He heard his brother sigh and felt him lean back into the couch cushions.

“Yeah I know. I’m working on that. You’ve been a real help, I’ve heard her talk about that too.”

“You’ve been gone even more recently, I think she’s starting to worry. Is it some big thing? Like when the Joker came back last year?”

“No, no, I’ve just been busy training Dak. He’s the new Robin, that kid that was with me just now.”

“Yeah Terry, I know. I’m not blind.” Matt picked a piece of dust off the suit.

“Oh… right.”

“How hard can it be though?”

“You mean besides the fact that he never listens and my boss has us training almost 24/7?”

“I’d listen. I bet I could be a great Robin.”

“Sure bud.” The way Terry said it was so off handed, almost joking.

Matt felt his face heat up, the anger from before resurfacing.

“I could! And you know me already! He’s just some random kid!”

“Woah hey. I’m not saying you wouldn’t be a good hero, but Dak needed Robin, just like I needed Batman.” Terry was using the calm voice, the one he used to get Matt to listen or do what he wanted, but it wasn’t going to work this time.

“How? How did he need Robin?”

Terry sighed again, pushing the hair out of his eyes.

“That’s a big question bud. It’s a long story. Dak helped me out of a sticky situation a while back. I didn’t see him for a long time, and then a few months ago I was beating up a gang and he stopped one of the guys from hitting me with a pipe. He got knocked out though, so I tried to bring him home. Turns out his folks died in a house fire while he was at school. My boss knows a thing or two about that kind of stuff, and told me it might be a good idea to take him on. I was the hesitant one at first, if you can imagine, but in the end it was the best option. He’s with a foster family now, and he works with me as Robin on the side. If I hadn’t given him that… who knows where he’d be now.”

Matt was mistaken. The excitement he’d felt earlier had just been anger.

“But what about me? I lost someone too, I lost Dad! Why don’t I need Robin? Why is he so special? Why didn’t you ask me?” Feelings were hard sometimes. Sometimes they were big, too big, for Matt to handle. He was standing before he knew it, his feet sinking into the cushions, his finger pointing accusingly at Terry.

“Oh Mattie it’s not like that.”

“Yeah? Then what is it like? You chose some street kid who you barely know over me!”

“Matt—”

“I need help too! You think it’s been easy? Everyone’s already moved on but I haven’t! I still miss Dad and I—” he didn’t mean to start crying, “and I—I… I can’t remember his face that well anymore, Terry. I can’t rem—remember what he looked like.” A hiccup interrupted the sentence, sounding much closer to a sob than he wanted it too.

“Oh bud I’m sorry.” Terry pulled him into a hug and Matt heard a dull thump as the costume slid onto the floor. Terry’s arms were solid and warm, his fingers combing comfortingly through Matt’s hair.

How did feelings just do that? How did they change so fast? From so big to so small, so angry to so sad? Matt pressed his fists against Terry’s chest and cried harder, his voice wobbling and cracking and shaking like a bowl of jello.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m sorry I haven’t been, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I’m here now, Mattie, okay?”

Matt nodded into Terry’s shirt.

“I love you bud.” Terry said, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

They sat like that for a few minutes, Matt’s sobs slowly quieting, the tears drying in sticky tracks down his face. Terry didn’t move, he continued to hold Matt tight and rub his shoulders, and they just sat like that.

“Can I… can I be Robin someday?” Matt finally asked. “I think I need it too.”

He could feel Terry smile against his hair. “We’ll see. I don’t want you getting hurt, and Robin’s taken right now, but maybe you can be someone else, okay?”

Matt looked up at Terry and smiled.

“Okay.”

Terry gave him another kiss on the forehead and got up. He stretched, groaning, and made his way to the kitchen. “I have a thing I need to get to. Wanna come with?”

“What kind of thing?” Matt scrubbed at the tears on his cheeks, wiping his hands on the couch cushions. 

“Hero stuff. It’s about a case but it’s nothing major.” Terry started rummaging in one of the drawers.

“What about mom? We can’t just leave.” 

“I’ll leave a note, say I’m taking you to Cheesy Dan’s for a bit or something.”

“Okay.”

Terry paused when he pulled out the sticky notes.

“Hey Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“You know you’ll always be more important than any Batman business right?”

Matt stared. 

He stared at his brother, still tall, maybe a bit less lanky than he’d been before, more muscle, his hair falling thick and dark in front of his eyes. He stared at that dimple on his chin that Matt had always wanted, and he realized that it was the same brother he’d always had. 

He stared at Batman, the hero who was standing in his kitchen, who had saved people countless times on TV, who had saved him more than he could count. He stared at the way Terry held himself, just a bit differently than he remembered, at the way his eyes looked tired but aware, and the bruise that was becoming more visible on his jaw. He stared and he realized that Terry was Batman. He stared and he realized things weren’t the same, and maybe they hadn’t been for a long, long time.

He stared and he thought about those words. He thought about the boy in the Robin costume who was not him and who needed the suit. He thought about how he didn’t understand his feelings, and about how things were confusing and he didn’t know if they would ever stop being that way.

“Yeah. Yeah I know.” He said after a moment. And he meant it. 

Sometimes things were simple, sometimes they weren’t. Sometimes people were there, sometimes they weren’t. Sometimes Matt was alone and sometimes Terry was dragging him into a clean limousine and driving him to a big house and dragging him down a secret passage and introducing him to a legacy.

Sometimes there was Batman, and sometimes there was Terry.

And that was okay.

And Matt was okay.

[kar3npage]

Edens Twilight

New chapter of Sewing Scissors and Throwing Knives is up! Read the rest of the fic here on ao3 Last chapter: Neil gets measured a meets Abby, he shocks everyone by convincing Andrew to do his job.

Friday comes faster than Neil was ready for.

After the initial outrage (from Kevin) and shock (from everyone else) when they found out that Neil had somehow managed to talk Andrew into cooperating with the team, they had showered Neil with warnings and tips to avoid the Friday outing.

Dan had alluded to something bad happening when Matt went with Andrew and his crew to Edens, and Jeremy’s smile had dimmed somewhat when he heard about the trip. No matter how hard everyone tried to fight against Neil going, he knew that he would never back out. He was curious about where the concern came from and vowed to one day hear the stories, but for now he had made a deal. Neil wasn’t one to just back out of deals.

By the time 9pm rolled around (the time that Andrew had made him promise that he would be ready), he had completely forgotten about the entire trip.

Preparing for a fashion show was a great deal more complicated than Neil had realized. Sure, he knew about the complications that could arise and the amount of work that was required to prep for such a large show, but he had never seen the work that went on up in the designers chair. So far he had been dealing with the venue for Kevin, had chats with various staff (Seth) who didn’t want to have their toils ready for fittings, and all sorts of other strange tasks that he never would have thought to worry about.

Sometimes Neil was so busy and focused on his work that he forgot that he was being hunted.

The knock on his hotel room door had Neil moving fast, reaching for a gun that he no longer had with him. It took a breathless moment for him to remember that he was going out for the night.

However, the paranoia was difficult to get rid of, so Neil opened the door carefully and slowly. Nicky stood there was a huge grin and a bag. He only waited for the door to open a smidge before shoving the bag into Neils hands.

“Get changed and then we can get going,” Nicky says cheerfully. 

“Why do I have to change?” Nicky looks him up and down and makes a face. “Neil, your gorgeous and all that, but there’s only so much that a pretty face a good body can do. You need better clothes.”

Neil considers arguing, then decides that it would be easier just to change. To spite Nicky, he makes him wait in the hotel hallway. Neil is pretty sure that Kevin forgot to find him an apartment, since he hasn’t mentioned Neil leaving the hotel yet.

It’s a usual sight to see the maserati parked comfortably in front of the hotel at night. What isn’t so usual is the appearance of not only Nicky, but a second Andrew. Neil knew about Aaron Minyard, he had read the newspaper articles about the attack that let Andrew off of his meds during fashion school, but he never actually expected to meet him. He had lost interest in Aaron when he started studying medicine.

It’s jarring to see someone with Andrews face who emotes so much. Or maybe he doesn’t, but it just looks extreme compared to Andrews blank mask. Neil thinks that he prefers the lack of emotion to the sneer of distaste that he’s getting as he gets shoved in between Nicky and Aaron in the back seat of the car.

The music is loud enough that no one can really speak, though Nicky and Kevin do try. They’re arguing about something, but Neil has a sneaking suspicion that they’re arguing about two completely separate topics. If anyone else notices, they don’t say anything.

The diner that they stop at before Eden’s is unexpected to Neil. Enough so that he immediately looks around in suspicion, waiting for someone to pop out from a dark corner. He doesn’t notice Andrew watching his vaguely panicked reaction until they’re almost inside. Andrew raises one eyebrow when Neil makes eye contact with him; Neil avoids his eyes for as long as he can after that.

It’s tough work not looking at Andrew when Neil is so used to tracking his every move, but it does make it easier for him to notice the cracker packets. Drugs.

Neil has heard about the crazy lives that successful designers and models live, of course. He never thought that he would run into it, not with Kevin and his health craze and work ethic. He has a brief taste of disappointment in Kevin.

After the uncomfortable silence of Sweeties that was only broken by Nickys increasingly desperate attempts for conversation, it’s actually a comfort to get to Edens. 

Edens Twilight is the sort of club that Neil has been in before but never had wanted to go to again. It was loud, bright, and filled with people wearing various sorts of corsets and leather and straps. It was too much, yet Andrew and the rest seemed at home here among the insanity. 

They get in without any trouble--in fact the bouncers nod at them and give Nicky some sort of complicated handshake as they walk in. 

Most of the group splits off to find an empty table, but Andrew snags Neils sleeve and pulls him toward the bar.

There’s barely any space and people keep bumping into Neil until he’s much closer to Andrew than he’s ever been to anyone in his life, other than maybe his mother. He does his best to keep an inch of space between the two of them, but the club is filled to the brim.

He’s already hot and sweaty and he’s only been here for a few moments. 

“Andrew, we’ve been missing you! Well, I have at least,” a tall, muscular bartender winks at Neil as he sidles up to them. He’s already working on drinks, though Andrew hasn’t ordered anything yet.

“And who's this?” He says to Andrew. The blond fits him with a bored stare that’s getting close to hostile. The bartender gets back to work but is otherwise unbothered by Andrew.

“Just the normal, Roland.”

“And for your new member?”

Andrew turns to look at Neil. 

“I don’t drink,” Neil shouts over the music. Roland and Andrew have some sort of silent conversation and Roland shrugs and pours a soda into a glass for Neil, then shoves the overfilled tray towards them. 

Andrew lifts the tray with precision and comfort, and he has no trouble getting through the crowd without spilling. That would probably explain their easy access to the club, Neil decides.

The other three men attack the tray the minute it hits the table with the desperation of those suffering from dehydration. Aaron somehow manages to continue glaring at Neil throughout it. Neil pretends that he didn’t notice the three of them pour packets of powder into their drinks before they downed them.

“We’re going to go dance, coming with?” Nicky leans over to shout in Neils ear. He can feel the music pumping through his body. Or maybe that’s his anxiety, it’s tough to tell. He doesn’t respond to Nicky, just shakes his head. Nicky drags a still glaring Aaron and already spaced out Kevin to the dance floor behind him. 

Neil is ready to book it by the time Andrew finally speaks up. 

“What are you running from?” he says calmly, still working on his scotch.

The muscles in Neils body freezes. He swings around to face Andrew, looks him in the eye for the first time since Sweeties, and gets ready to leave. Italy would be a nice change.

He has to take a breathe before answering, deciding to play it safe.

“What are you talking about? I’m not running from anything.”

Andrew snorts and gives Neil a dirty look. “You are the first person to ever take more than five minutes to consider working with Kevin, you nearly had a panic attack when you realized that we were on the top floor of the building and you couldn’t escape easily, your find the exits in every room before you look at anything else, do you need me to continue?”

When Neil doesn’t answer right away Andrew leans forward until their noses are nearly touching.

“The thing is, this is the easy way. I have other methods of finding out the truth from you, and I wouldn’t hesitate to use them.”

“Why?” Neil’s heart beating so hard that it hurts his ribs.

“Because Kevin and I have a deal. And if you’re running from who I think you’re running from, you could be making me break that deal.” Andrew blinks slowly. Neil can see flecks of gold in his eyes, they’re so close. “I never break deals.”

“Who do you think I’m running from?”

“The Moriyama’s.”

Neil knew he was going to say this. He knew exactly what was going to happen here, but the world still stops for a jarring second.

There are a few ways that Neil could deal with this. Option one: admit that he’s running from the Moriyamas and let Andrew kick him out. He would be safer far away from here anyway. Option two: play stupid and make up a new sob story to explain his fidgety tendencies, and hope that Andrew doesn’t see through the lie. Or, he could use a bit of both. Use just enough of the truth to make Andrew believe him, just enough of a lie to keep him here at Alli Rey.

Neil needs to decide. He can’t decide.

“What makes you think you have any power over me?” he says instead.

“Kevin listens to everything I say, whether he wants to or not. I can make him fire you.”

“Why do you think that I would tell you the truth to avoid that?”

A muscle in Andrews jaw twitches. “You look at the office like it’s the most magical thing you’ve ever seen. You’re as much of a junkie as Kevin is, and that’s saying something.”

Neil really, really wants to stay.

“What do I get in return for telling you the truth?” he relents.

“You get to stay.”

Neil is almost getting cross eyed looking at Andrew from so close. It’s like a game of chicken, and so far neither of them have moved away. When Neil fails to look impressed with that offer, Andrew sighs.

“We’ll play a game. Truth for a truth. I start. Who are you running from?”

Neil chickens out and moves back. “My father,” he chokes a bit on the word. He hopes it adds to the realism of the story. “My father worked for the Moriyamas. He was low on the ladder, no one cared much about him. Until he stole money from them and ran. They found my parents and… and killed them. I have what’s left of the money, and I’ve been on the move ever since.”

He sneaks a glance up at Andrew then turns to stare at his untouched glass of soda. 

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

That is the last thing that Neil expected to hear. He forces himself not to react, to wait for Andrew to explain himself.

“I watch your back, and you make sure that Kevin doesn’t go running back.”

“Kevin would go back?” Neil can feel his nose wrinkle up in disgust. He only spent a few weeks with Riko all those years ago, and there is nothing in the world that would make him go back.

“Yes. Do we have a deal?”

Andrew offers a hand to Neil, who stares at it until he realizes what it’s there for. He nods and gives Andrew a firm handshake. 

He tries his best to sit still and act like their conversation didn’t shake him to the core, but Neil has an urge deep in his bones to move. He excuses himself to the bathroom to Andrew and starts to fight his way through the crowd.

“Neil!” he hears someone shout. “Neil, hey!” 

He stiffens and turns, ready to fight. Nicky stumbles over his feet as he makes him way over to Neil. He throws his arms around him and Neils entire frame tenses. He can’t help himself but throw up his arms to shove Nicky away.

Nicky clings to his shoulders and kisses him. 

The shock almost makes Neil not notice the overly sweet taste to the kiss, and as Nicky lets himself be pushed away, the salty aftertaste. 

It’s too much.

Neil was already shaky and spent from talking to Andrew, and now his body is already failing to follow his instructions.

“No,” he mumbles or shouts.

Was green the colour for exit? Or was that red? Was this the way to the bathrooms? Neils feet are doing their best to walk somewhere, but with all of the jostling and people they aren’t managing their job.

That’s about the time that Neil’s memory starts to get patchy.

[maximows]

Against the Odds - Chapter VI

New Years,

MASTERLIST (mobile) AO3

Warnings: smut & fluff

I looked around the living room, leaning on the kitchen counter, still not believing what my eyes were looking at. Chris' house was packed with people, friends and family, also people neither of us knew and some friends form work. Why?

Well, my boyfriend is a kiss-ass.

Because I had spent Thanksgiving with his family, he came over to London for Christmas. He also finally got to meet my brothers, their wives and some extended family. If I thought he was nervous around my parents, then I have no idea how to describe his behaviour around Matt and Dan. He was just like a nerd trying to fit in with school's sports team.

Anyway, the moment Matt mentioned how they had no NYE plans, he blurted out:

„We're actually having a party at my house with some friends, you should visit!”

We were not planning on having any sort of a party before he had said that. I was hoping for a quiet night in and some sexy times. But that was ruined, because Chris just needs everyone to like him. I even bought a new La Perla set...

I brought my glass of Martini mixed with Sprite to my lips and watched my boyfriend walk up to me. „Babe, have you even spoken to anyone since the guests arrived?” he asked, taking a spot next to me and gently nudging my shoulder.

„Kate, Sebastian, Armie, Simon...” I counted on my fingers. „I also spoke to the caterer you hired yesterday when you finally realised that a few packs of Doritos won’t be enough.”

Chris chuckled. „I feel like you’re going to hang this over my head for a long time.”

„True, true,” I sighed. „A much longer time than we’ve now gone without sex, babe.”

I knew that normally in this state of intoxication, Chris would have his hands all over me by now. But the presence of my brothers, both of whom were younger than him and smaller, seemed to stop him. Even though they weren’t really the overprotective type and seemed to like him a lot. Like, I understood that he didn’t want to have sex in my family home. But right now, my brothers were staying in bedrooms on a different side of the house and there was no way they would hear us. He was still afraid. „By the way, are you still going to be afraid of having sex with me, your own girlfriend, in your house after they leave? I mean, they could install surveillance or something...”

Chris shook his head in disbelief. „Is that mean, sex deprived side of you my fault or are you just like that?”

I tilted my head to the side a little and turned to face him. My arms wrapped around his waist as I looked him deeply in the eyes. „Come on, Daddy.” I whispered.

Now that’s a whole another story. A few days before we flew to London, I found a list of most common kinks people admit to liking on BuzzFeed or something and went through it with Chris. I always knew Chris liked to dominate and I was okay with that, but once „Daddy kink” was brought up he went kind of shy. „I’m not into age play or anything, but I might be into this particular... nickname.”

So we gave it a try and I ended up moaning „Daddy" and whimpering against the sheets.

Anyway, I was hoping bringing that up would get him back in the game, but it was a no go. “What am I gonna do about you, you little minx?”

“If I were you, I would just spank me until I’ve learned my lesson.” I whispered into his ear and gave his cheek a quick kiss. “I’m going to check on Scarlett.” I then said and quickly escaped the crime scene, leaving my boyfriend with his more and more in colour blue.

I walked up to her and sat beside her. “What’s up, the non-drinking version of yourself?”

“Please, don’t bring that up,” he shook her head, as if trying to erase her memories. “It’s my fourth glass of Sprite and I’m just trying to convince myself that it’s not non-alcoholic, it’s just weak.”

I giggled a little and put my head on her shoulder. “I mean, at least you have a good reason – you’re breast feeding.” I rubbed her shoulder. “The only reason I ever leave a party sober is because I’m Chris' designated driver.”

“Men are like babies, so I’m not surprised.” She shrugged. “Anyway, how are things? When am I getting my spa weekend?”

“Well, we broke up around the same time you had a baby, so...” I started.

“What? How did I not know anything about it?” Scarlett seemed surprised.

“You didn’t? We had a row about um, children and commitment,” I tucked a loose stead of hair behind my ear. “We were off for a few weeks.”

“Was that when I saw those photos of him and the ex?” she asked. “Because I was 100% positive that they just bumped into each other or something.”

“He just met up with her to sort their shit out.” I explained.

“I’m gonna have to talk to this idiot,” she put her hands on my knees. “I've spoken to him about the children shit like a few months ago and I really thought he wouldn’t do that.”

“It’s okay, it’s all sorted out, now,” I assured her, but then realised what she had said. “Wait what?”  

Scarlett sighed and looked around to see if anyone could hear us. “Em, I’ve known him for years. Chris is fucking weird, because he wants to have that picture-perfect family, a perfect partner and all that shit, yet he also wants a lot of independence in a relationship and someone who’s not clingy. I only spoke to him on the set to make sure he knew how, a lot of times, the words he says come out wrong and I just didn’t want you to break up because of a misunderstanding.”

“He never told me about it. How did he react?”

Scarlett shrugged. “I mean, he seemed to get it. I believed that until you told me about the break.”

I realised that we were just going back to the past again and decided to end the topic. “It doesn’t matter now, Scarlett. Thank you, anyway. You are like my guardian angel in this relationship.”

She smiled and put her head on my shoulder. “I’m happy to have an ally in this testosterone driven group. Chris has been sending less and less gross stuff on the group text since you to have started dating, I really appreciate that.”

“Yeah, I make him show me everything he wants to send, so I’m some sort of a filter.” I laughed and leaned back to feel a pair of hands on my shoulders.

I looked up to see Chris with a wide grin on his face, showing his perfect teeth. “Babe, I need your help with Dodger.” He said. “We need to give him those pills, so he can sleep through the fireworks.”

“Oh, right. I almost forgot.” I stood up and followed Chris to the bedroom, where Dodger chose to hide. Once we were in the hallway Chris suddenly stopped me and lifted me up to put me over his shoulder. I squealed, but no one heard it because of the loud music in the living room. “Chris!”

I felt a hard slap on my ass as we entered the bedroom, where Dodger was sleeping peacefully. Chris locked us up in the bathroom and sat me on the counter. He put his hands on both sides of my hips and looked me straight in the eyes. “You gonna be a good girl for me, baby?” he whispered.

“Yes.” I grinned.

Chris raised one eyebrow. “Yes, what?”

Oh. “Yes, Daddy.”

Chris smiled and lifted me up to pull up my dress. “You're gonna get what you’ve been asking for.” His hands started to gently massage my butt cheeks. He mumbled against my lips right before kissing me hard. “What do you want, huh?”

We broke the kiss and I looked up into his eyes. “You really want me to say it, don’t you?”

Chris grinned and nodded. “Very much.”

I got off the counter and reached down to unbuckle his belt. “I want your cock, Daddy.” I whispered before connecting our lips again. Chris pushed me back against the counter as his tongue slid into my mouth. I felt his fingers on my pussy, tickling me through the thin material of my panties, making me gasp for air. He pushed away from my lips and lowered his face to my neck, pulling on my hair to give himself more access.

“You’re in a lot of trouble, young lady,” Chris whispered before gently biting the skin on my collarbone. He pulled my top down a bit to reveal my breast. He locked his lips around my nipple and bit on it, making me arch my back. I felt his lips form a smile against my skin. “I just love how you can’t get enough of my touch.”

I tangled my fingers into his hair and smiled as he levelled his head with mine to connect our lips again. His one hand was still on my breast, massaging his thumb against the soft, sensitive flesh, while the other hand slipped inside my panties to slide two fingers into me. I gasped into his mouth.

I moved to my knees and pulled his trousers down, enough to reveal his boxers. I love the expressions Chris makes when I tease him, so I couldn’t help myself. I ran the tip of my finger along Chris’s length, looking up into his eyes. His lips were slightly parted, a sign of anticipation. I pulled his boxers down, but only by a few centimetres. I ran my tongue along his clothed shaft, from his balls to the tip.

“Baby, we don’t have much time.” Chris warned me.

I looked up to see his lips slightly parted and eyes shut. “You made me wait, though.” I smirked, but not for long.

Chris moved rapidly to lift me up and turn me to face the mirror. “Fucking tease,” he whispered, moving my hair out of his way to access my neck. He pressed his cock against my butt, as his teeth grazed on the skin of my neck. “We can save foreplay for later, alright?”

I nodded, smiling. Chris’ hand reached to the front of my panties, under my skirt and started to rub my clit. My back arched immediately after a long lack of touch, my legs turned into jelly and Chris put his other hand on my lower stomach to hold me still against his body.

I reached back to pull Chris’ boxers down, but he pushed me against the counter and grabbed both my hands behind my back to limit my movements. He lowered the underwear himself, both his and mine. Seconds later I felt his tip brush against my entrance. Oh, so he can tease me. Even though I was dreaming about him inside me, I loved the sensation. “Fuck,” I moaned against the cold surface. “Let’s make this into our version of the midnight kiss.”

Chris stopped and I heard his short laugh behind me. “I think our guests might notice if we don't come back soon.”

I was just about to say something witty, when Chris slammed inside me. It took everything in me not to scream. I bit my bottom lip not to make a lot of noise, because I wanted to fucking scream.

Chris grabbed a handful of my ass and released my hands to slap my other cheek. He then reached out to my hair and pulled on it to make me face the mirror. „Look at me when I make you come, baby girl.” He groaned.

I kept my head up as Chris released my hair in order to move his fingers to my clit. I struggled to keep my eyes open, but I never broke the eye contact. Chris was looking hot as fuck with his lips slightly parted and a loose strand of hair on his forehead. “You look so good while taking my cock, baby.”

He lifted my leg to rest on the counter and give him better access. His moves became a bit more sloppy and I moaned loudly as he pulled out completely, only to bury himself completely inside me again. Chris smirked as he did is again, only this time he turned me around to face him before entering me again. With his arm around my back and hand on my cheek he brought my lips in for a kiss and continued thrusting into me, picking up the pace. “Come for me, baby. Come on.” He whispered between kisses, moaning into my mouth.

I felt my climax approaching and so was Chris’. His moans always become a bit more high pitched when he’s close. “Faster, Daddy. I'm so close.” I groaned against his shoulder before biting it gently.

We came within seconds from each other, panting heavily. I moved my arms from Chris’ shoulders and leaned back on the counter.

We were both breathing heavily and loudly for some time after finishing. I saw a few sweat drops on Chris’ forehead as he looked into the mirror behind me. “Your ass look so fucking good right now." He smirked and I turned around to see my bare butt with skirt gathered up above it. I saw a faint mark from when Chris had slapped me earlier.

As he was putting his pants on already, I turned back to him. “Maybe you should take a picture.” I suggested. “Save it to your wank folder.”

Chris chuckled and opened the bathroom door. Dodger was still asleep and no one in the living room seemed to notice that we had disappeared for a longer time than we should have. We took so long that it was almost midnight and everyone wanted to go outside and check out the fireworks. Chris wrapped me in his jacket and took champagne glasses for us. We all went out to the garden about a minute before midnight. Chris sat on a chair and brought me to sit on his lap. I wrapped my arm around his neck and took one champagne glass from him. “How are you not afraid of PDA in front of my brothers all of a sudden?” I asked, looking over to Dan who waved at me and couldn’t be less bothered by my sitting position.  

“I’m hoping I can get an immunity during this special occasion,“ he admitted, smiling. “Besides, I hope they know how madly I’m in love with their sister and sometimes I have to show my affection publicly.”

I grinned and wanted to comment on that, but apparently midnight had struck and everyone had gone crazy – screaming, laughing, hugging, kissing.

Chris captured my lips in a passionate kiss. I smiled against his lips and started to play with the hair on the back of his neck. “I love you so much, Christopher.” I whispered and leaned my forehead against his.

The next morning, I could barely move. It wasn’t because of sex, though – we fell asleep with Dodger still on the bed and it felt borderline weird to even think about having sex while he was here. Chris and I were actually the last ones to stop dancing. At some point, with the help of an appropriate amount of alcohol, I was so into the song, I almost started to treat my boyfriend like my personal dancing pole.

He was an incredible dancer, though. I was sure that there was nothing he could do wrong. He was great at everything. He lifted me up, swung me around, we nearly did the Dirty Dancing lift, but Matt stepped in and asked us to save it for a more sober evening. So we stopped and decided to start a karaoke contest, which we obviously won. Mackie was trying to get back at us, but we were unbeatable.

Now, I was in bed, Chris’ body tangled around mine. His face was pressed into my collarbone and arms around my waist. I reached back to grab my phone and snap a pic of us. I sent it to my group chat with Amy, Sophie and Mary with a message.

“Look at him. I love this man so much.”

As much as I wanted to stay like this for hours, I knew that Matt was probably up by now and I didn’t want him to be alone in the living room. I moved gently and pushed away from Chris, but he only tightened his grip around me.

I chuckled and he looked up at me. “Where do you think you’re going, pillow?” He mumbled. “My slumber isn’t over.”

“Babe, Matt is probably up already, I don’t want him to sit alone there.” I explained, running my fingers through his hair.

“I’ll let you go on one condition,” he started and looked up at me with his sleepy eyes. “Move in with me.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and had no idea what to say. “I thought you meant, like, to bring you coffee or something.”

“Nah, I can do that myself,” he shrugged. “So?”

I had no idea what to say, he really did surprise me. I mean, I haven’t really given moving in together any thought. We spend so much time together anyway and I practically live here with him anyway. “Um, can I think about it?”

Chris nodded. “I mean, yeah, but to be honest, I only wanted to make it official.”

I sat on the bed and watched his expression. “Why now?”

He shrugged. “I noticed that you still use your backup toothbrush here. I just don’t want you to feel like a guest in this house. I want it to be yours too.”

I smiled and climbed out of the bed. “I’ll let you know real soon, ok?” he sighed as I left the bedroom and went to the kitchen, where Matt was sitting in front of his laptop, as I predicted.

“Working already?” I asked, walking up to the fridge. I found a small bottle of water and drank it immediately.

“Yeah, but it’s just a few e-mails.” he smiled and closed the laptop. “So, is Chris still asleep?”

“No, he woke up around the same time as me.” I answered. “He, uh... He’s just asked me to move in with him.”

Matt raised his eyebrow. “Don’t you live together already?”

I smirked. “No, not, like, officially.”

I could see that Matt had no idea what to say. He wasn’t the kind of brother to get too involved in my relationships (and neither was Dan) because he knew I'd turn to him if I actually needed help. That’s also why I didn’t understand Chris’ fear of them. “So, do you want to move in with him?”

I sighed. “I don’t want to live in a house where his exes lived.” I admitted.

Matt smiled. “I think the both of you, of all people, have the comfort of just being able to buy a new house.”

I tilted my head back, thinking about what I should do. I mean, if our relationship continues then we are bound to move in together for real at some point. But I don’t want to live here, in this particular house. I don’t want to call this house “home". At least one of Chris’ exes lived here and I don’t want to just be another one.

“Uh, I’ll talk to him about it,” I said. “Anyway, have you seen this year’s Big Fat Quiz of the Year? I haven’t.”

We went to the living room and I put on the show. Chris got up and came in fully clothed, ready to take a walk with Dodger. Matt volunteered to take the dog out, probably because he knew we needed to talk. At this moment, I was really hoping Dan and Sarah wouldn’t wake up too soon.

“Chris, I have an idea,” I said as he laid down on the sofa, putting his head on my lap for me to scratch. “How about we moved in together, but to a different house.”

He opened his eyes and looked up at me. “What house?”

I shrugged. “The one we would buy together."

He pulled himself up to sit. “You want to buy a new house with me, rather than just move in here?”

I nodded. “Don’t you think it would be nice if we both chose the place, decorated it, made our own?” I said, excited. Actually, imagining what it would be like to go house hunting with Chris seemed incredibly fun and I was willing to move out of NY just for this.

“What’s wrong with this one?” he asked, looking around like he would find a flaw on the walls.

I sighed, trying to find a way to give him my list in the kindest way possible. “Well, this is your house, in which you’ve lived for years, sometimes with other women and…”

“Ok, I’ll just agree now, so I don’t have to listen about my pre-Emily casanova lifestyle.”

It didn’t take us long to actually start looking for places. The next few weeks were a little bit busy as I was preparing for the Cinderella press tour and then travelling a bit. I also got nominated for an Oscar for the movie Chris and I had a row about, which was a huge deal, but I was focusing more on getting my private life together. By mid-February we were house hunting with a real estate agent. We did have a few bumps on the road, for example our completely different tastes. Chris wanted something classic, in a family, cosy way while I was more into modern architecture with light colours and simple textures. I also fancied those huge glass walls which give insane views, especially in houses on the hills. Chris, on the other hand, being his private self, thought that they’d give passers by a look into our life. In a gated community. With huge trees and bushes surrounding the building.

We both had lists of features we weren’t willing to give up and that was probably where we hit the dead end. The agent found two houses – one modern and one classic, which met all of our criteria. Both were situated in gated communities and a bit secluded from the neighbouring parcels. Both had bigger lawns than Chris’ current house and their fronts were hidden from the street view, so we wouldn’t have to worry about closing the curtains all the time. The room numbers were exactly the same – we could easily fit in both Chris and my family, if not in the bedrooms then on the multiple sofas. Honestly, the only thing we couldn’t agree on was the aesthetic part.

We ended up meeting the agent on our anniversary and visiting the houses once again. “Chris, can’t you see that this house looks like a home to a Republican Louisiana State Senator?” I whined, looking at the old fashioned ornaments on the kitchen furniture.

He turned around, with hands in his pockets and said, “I don’t think State Senators make that much money.”

I sighed, sinking into the overly plush sofa. “The one I want is cheaper.”

“But it has so many unnecessary things,” Chris started, touching the marble frame of the fireplace. “A home cinema? Really?”

“Christopher, this one has a professional gym with a massage table,” I fired back. “You barely work without your trainer by your side, while I watch a lot of movies, so…”

We walked around the house, I was pretending considering changing my mind, but it was just a show for Chris. Our agent knew, that I preferred the Brentwood house and I was not giving up.

We drove back to Brentwood and I literally got heart-eyed when I saw the house again. I loved the combination of grey and wooden walls on the outside. It paired perfectly with the nature around it. I pointed out to Chris, how long it took us to drive from the nearest neighbours house to ours (yes, that’s how confident I am), because his choice didn’t offer us the privacy he claimed he wanted. The agent stayed outside to answer a call, while we went upstairs to the master bedroom.

“Isn’t this view the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” I asked, looking out the window opposite a kind size bed.

“I can name at least one, but let’s not change the subject.” Chris smiled, giving me a great idea.

“No, no. Chris, just picture us here. You and me on this bed, after a good, last night’s fuck. In the bathroom, against the window, on the floor or maybe in the closet, if my lingerie doesn’t take up too much space,” I said all of it with my hands around his waist and looking up into his eyes. “Can you imagine?”

I thought it would be enough, but he still only said, “Let me think about it.”

By next week, I had already brought most of my clothes to Los Angeles, because I honestly didn’t think choosing a house would take us such a long time.

It was Oscars night and because of my nomination, we decided to go as a couple. We had never publicly talked about each other to the media or appeared together at events, except for last year’s Comic Con, so it was a big deal.

I was wearing a black, skin-tight Chanel dress with golden chains on my shoulders, ribs and hips. I loved the way it looked, especially with my hair down and shiny golden high heels. The make up artist decided to give me a strong look with dark eyes and a red lipstick. It all created a beautiful combination and even though my dress wasn’t very comfortable, I wished I never had to take it off.

My stylist and her make up artist had left and the only thing I still had to do was to put on jewellery. They had laid it out for me on the bed to choose from. There was also the bracelet Chris had given me for my birthday and that was the only piece I insisted in integrating into the outfit. I decided to wait for my boyfriend, so he could help me with these.

I heard him in the hallway, video chatting with his family back in Boston. Chris usually brings his mum or sisters to the Oscars, but he broke the tradition because of me. They didn’t mind, but I still felt a bit bad. “Chris, have you seen Emily’s dress? I want to see it!” I heard Carly’s voice. Chris walked in and paused in the doorway. He was wearing a classic black Gucci tux with a bow tie, which already was a bit messed up. Honestly, it was a sight worth drooling for.

We both just stood there, smiling at each other, both having insanely filthy thoughts about one another, until a voice interrupted. “Chris? I think you froze.” Carly said, which made us both laugh.

“Nah, I was just mesmerized by my beautiful girlfriend’s look,” he said, scanning me with his eyes from head to toe. “Lemme show you.” He pointed the camera at me.

“I loooove it, Em!” I heard Carly’s excited voice.

“Yes, you look amazing.” Lisa joined in.

Chris told them something about having to go and hung up. He walked up to me and said, “I don’t think I have ever wanted to rip something off you and fuck you against the wall more than I do right now.” His voice was quiet and low and I’m not gonna lie, I felt that sentence right in my lower stomach. At this point, I forgot about the Oscars madness. “In, like, a romantic way.”

“It’s not actually mine, baby…” I said, reaching out to his bow tie and straightening it. “You look insanely hot.”

Chris ran his hands along my sides as I put my arms around his neck. “Do you think we have enough time for a very quick quickie?” he asked, looking down at my cleavage and grabbing my ass and squeezing it firmly.

I tilted my head to the side and smiled lightly. “Even if we had, I have an enormous amount of make up on my face and I’m sure it wouldn’t survive,” I said. “Besides, our quickies aren’t really that quick… Not that I’m complaining.”

He rolled his eyes and sat back on the bed to check me out in full view. “What about the one before the Super Bowl?”

I turned around to face the mirror and put in my earrings. “That was just a blowjob, Chris.”

Chris shook his head and got his phone out of his pocket again. “That blowjob had me writing my vows, baby.”

I turned around, with my eyes wide open and started to laugh. “That was an incredible comment,” I said, walking up to him and sitting on his lap. “but if it was so to die for, then why did you also have to go to a Playboy party before the game, huh?”

Chris furrowed his eyebrows and reached out to get the bracelet he got me. “I thought you didn’t mind?” he said, taking my wrist and closing the piece around it.

Once the bracelet was on, I wrapped my arms around Chris’ neck, hugging him tightly, pressing his face into my cleavage. “I just thought I was the only bunny you wanted to see…” I whispered, trying to sound disappointed.

He chuckled, peppering kisses around my collarbone and above breasts. “I’m so sorry, bunny,” he murmured against my skin, giggling. “I know you’re just playing, but from now on I’m going to call you bunny, just to piss you off.”

Chris escaped the car before me, because he insisted on opening the door for me. As he did, he offered me his hand to help me get out. “My lady,” he whispered, as I straightened the dress on my thighs. “I told you we didn’t need to take those photos at home, they’ve already taken like a hundred decent photos of us.”

I walked across the red carpet, sometimes saying “hi” to someone, but mostly just waiting for our turn in front of the cameras. “I’m fucking nervous.” Chris mumbled.

“Why? I’m here with you.” I said, taking his hand into both of mine.

“Yeah, that’s the problem. It’s like a milestone for our relationship,” He said, releasing his hand from my grin and moving it around my waist to squeeze me against him. “First red carpet is like an engagement in Hollywood.”

I chuckled at his words, knowing what he meant. “Christopher, what’s up with vows and you today?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, it was probably our anniversary house hunting… and this dress today, God.”

I smiled. “Well, if that’s the case, then sign me up, sir.”

It was our call to stand in front of the cameras, so we stood in front of them, smiling bravely, stealing a few glances once in a while to give them something to write about. “I made up my mind and I think we can buy the house you want.” Chris said.

I sighed and turned my head so that my mouth was close enough his ear. “I hate you so much for making me wait so long.”

@daybreak96 @coffeebooksandfandom @smilexcaptainx @betinalunardi @rollinsuh @lily2089@stella2445 @hy-pocrite @l0rd-disick @beholdoritou @klaussstilinski@achishisha@givenchymercury @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @henry-cavill-gossip-girl @rock-titties @bombsandsparkles @marvel-fan23 @cap-just-said-language @blackaestheticislife @justsomemarvelspam @nerdchester17 @shyofaspark @cssrogersse@crispyearthquakezombie@ultragalaxy @bit-of-a-timelord @kingofallthingsz @morguleth@calicokitkat @areelphony@gemgemswift @donut-crazs @dontchawishyouknewhowtosalsa@kandomeresbitch @deafeningpsychicpandahands @severely-theoretic @chmedic @patzammit@winterssoliderss @metalarmlover @saturnki @coolkimchijoy16 @sammyjammy92 @coolkimchijoy16

[whatmack]

has it been 48 hours yet? has andrew made his decision?

you: giving me a scrap of attention indicating an excuse for me to write more mattneilme: WELL IF YOU INSIST. IF YOU YANK MY ARM. IF YOU REEAAAALLY BEG ME,

The next forty-eight hours go more normally than not. Andrewand Neil go grocery shopping, buy a new vacuum to keep up with the one-thirdincrease in cat hair (though, as Andrew keeps pointing out, it doesn’t make sensegiven relative surface area). They go to practice; Andrew blocks Neil’s shotswith lazy grace. Andrew cooks dinner the first night. The second night Neil bringsin take-out, and the whole apartment smells like chicken parm. Sir gets intothe food bin and the padlocks are deployed with much swearing and stomping offeet, while the new kitten gleefully chases kibbles across the kitchen floor.Rent is due and paid.Neil doesn’t think much about it during the allotted time. It’s in Andrew’shands now, and whatever the choice is, Neil trusts Andrew’s hands not to lethim down. He can tell Andrew is thinking hard, turning the question over andover in his mind, and Neil’s chest is hot with pride. And gratitude. Andrew’smanic impulsiveness has been wrestled around a series of mental (and sometimesphysical) exercises set up by Bee and reinforced by subsequent therapists, and ifNeil sees only a fraction of the work Andrew puts in to keep his checks and balancesintact, it’s enough to know it takes Andrew’s full concentration. 

A few times Neil catches Andrew staring off into space, brow furrowed, and Neilgoes quiet and watches him, waiting for him to be ready for Neil to interrupt.Thrice Andrew pins Neil against various pieces of furniture and kisses himhard, wandering away afterward to leave Neil a panting mess. Once he slams afist on the table when Neil steals a sip of his hot chocolate, and thencurls his fingers in Neil’s shirt in apology.Neil strokes a curl off of Andrew’s forehead and lets Andrew hold him.When he wakes up on judgement day (because Andrew made him wait the fullforty-eight hours, half so that Andrew could go through all his therapy set-upsand half because Andrew is an ass), Andrew is already up, his spot filled byall three cats curled in a pile of whiskers and soft bellyfur. Neil easeshimself out of bed so he won’t disturb them and tiptoes into the kitchen.Andrew is sitting on the couch, nursing a mug of coffee. Neil knows immediatelythat Andrew has been up for a while.Andrew doesn’t look at him, so Neil sets about making toast. His skin isbuzzing in anticipation; too, a little bit of fear, not of Andrew but of theknowledge that A Statement is about to be made. He settles beside Andrew withhis plate, not touching him. Tucks his cold toes under the dragging hems of hispajama pants. Concentrates on folding a piece of toast down the exact center tostuff it in his mouth.Andrew stirs, reaching for a butter-and-jam covered piece himself. Unlike Neilhe doesn’t try to contain the mess, but rips the bread into tiny pieces,releasing a shower of sticky crumbs as he methodically places bit by bit intohis mouth and chews. “The cat box needs doing,” Neil says.Andrew rests the bottom of his mug on Neil’s folded knee, a circle ofbrown-stained warmth through the cotton. “You might as well ask, if you’regoing to be like that.”Neil can’t help the tiny grin that rises from his throat to spill over his cheeks.“It’s been forty-eight hours. And…” he checks the clock on the cable box. “Thirteen—no,fourteen minutes.”The coffee in the mug ripples as Andrew lets out a gusty sigh. “You tell me ifhe does anything. Anything, Neil.”Hope is so hard to quash now that Neil knows what it feels like. “Is that…”“I’m saying yes. Abram. Idiot.”Neil folds against Andrew, splashing coffee onto his pants, but he barelyregisters the burn. The last piece of toast teeters along with the plate. Neildoesn’t care. “I’m still yours,” he says, against the honesty of Andrew’s skin,right where his collar ends and his pulse starts.“Idiot,” Andrew repeats. His arm comes up to wrap around Neil’s waist, holdinghim close.

The next step is telling Matt.Neil had been so wrapped up in the confusion—the improbability– of his ownattraction that he hadn’t considered that Matt might not want to kiss him back.This is a vast oversight. Neil’s reasonably certain Matt wouldn’t hold itagainst him, if he told Matt and Matt wasn’t for it; that Matt would continueon their friendship as if nothing had happened. Reasonably isn’t completely. Neil postpones his and Matt’s weekly (more often, daily) Skype call two times.It’s more complicated as Neil dallies and realizes that it’s not only kissing(and maybe, with a hot flush under his skin, more) he wants, with Matt. Hewants Matt’s voice explaining the films he loves that Neil doesn’t care aboutthe same way Andrew reads aloud from his novels, letting Neil sink into thesound of his voice, the words unimportant, the sharing and the him-ness of itencompassing all. He wants Matt carrying his bags at the mall while he goes tothe bathroom, probably teasing with a smile instead of Andrew’s glare at Neil’spenchant for sparkly things. He wants to sit with Matt at the end of the day,not explicitly paying attention toeach other but existing together, comfortable and reliable.Defining what he wants, even in his own head, is difficult. So much of the wayhe and Matt act is already easy intimacy, affection shared back and forth. Fromwhat Neil’s heard he knows friendships like his and Matt’s (or his with therest of the Foxes) are uncommon and coveted. Neil can’t say for sure; this isthe first kind of friendship he has known. All he knows is that it is good, andhe doesn’t want to lose it.Neil is also reasonably certain that Dan won’t mind. She’s had the odd hook-upand even a brief relationship with other people while dating Matt, and Matt hasassured Neil that he knows and is enthusiastic about Dan getting an abundanceof love. He’s allowed to pursue other relationships as well, but aside from thetimes he and Dan bring someone back with them for the night, as far asNeil knows Matt hasn’t taken advantage of this permission. Dan says as muchsometimes, gently teasing, and Neil’s not sure why she always looks at him whenshe brings it up, sometimes frustrated, sometimes almost sad, for no reason atall, and…Ah. That is, Neil supposes, a data point.He stops postponing Matt’s call.“Neil!” Matt shouts as soon as he connects, grainy face splitting into a grin.He bounces up and down, making his image shake as he jostles his laptop. “Oh myGod, you’ll never guess what happened the other day, it was the DMV, right,because—”Neil’s tongue is glued to the roof of his suddenly dry mouth. “Matt,” hecroaks. Matt notices (of course he notices) and his expression loses its wildjoy.“Babe?” He asks, mouth pursing around his concern. Neil can’t help but stare atthe swell of Matt’s lips, caught in worried patience as he waits for Neil to revealwhatever it is that Neil is keeping inside. Neil wants to kiss him so badly. Wants Mattso badly, and it’s wonderful and it hurts, and Neil has to let it out or he’llhave to shove it down to nothing, right now, forever.“I like you,” Neil says. 

[itsstickball]

Rivalry pt.2

(pt.1, pt.3)

Things progressed normally through the regular season and Neil soon found himself breathless staring up at a scoreboard that meant the Furies were going to the National Cup Championship. A moment was all he had to breathe it in before his entire team was swamping the court and sweeping him up into their raucous celebration.

Later, after press duty, showering and changing, Neil checked his phone. There were the usual messages of congratulations, asks to hang out later, a rare “good job” from Kevin – whose own team had qualified the week prior. He was significantly more surprised, however, by the twitter notification saying that he’d been tagged in a message from @AJminyard. It was mostly odd in that Andrew rarely actually tweeted anything his publicist didn’t mandate, and even rarer in that he actually tagged someone rather than just using their actual name.

Curious, he swiped the app open.

Sure enough, Andrew had attached a brief clip of the Furies’ celebration, mostly centered on Neil being hoisted above their heads as the smallest player, his face nearly split in half with a grin. The article it was attached to was fairly congratulatory, and Neil skimmed it for only a moment. Andrew’s comment however, was far more succinct and far less generous.

-Shame @NJos10 won’t be celebrating like that two weeks from now.-

Two weeks, of course, was when the Furies would play the Miami Marauders. For all that Andrew claimed to hate the game, Neil knew that he’d bring his best that night and had every intention of rising to the challenge. And if he played hard enough to beg off from going out with his teammate afterward, no one would blame him.

-We’ll see. @AJminyard-

He replied, swiping back to his texts with a private smile. The rest of the team was waiting in the lounge as he strolled out, duffle in one hand, phone in the other.

“Aw man, look at that baby face! Neil, when are you gonna buck up and let us meet this secret admirer of yours?”

“My what?”

He looked up from his phone to stare quizzically at Martin.

“You’ve got that sappy look.”

Neil turned to Lovejoy for help, but the older man just nodded his head sagely.

“I’m looking at pictures of Matt’s puppy?”

He explained slowly, showing them the most recent round, in which Boulder is dressed in a different doggy jersey for his, Matt’s, Andrew’s and Kevin’s teams, plus a custom one for Dan’s Class II collegiate team, the Devils.

Both older men let out a sigh, but then dutifully comment on how good the puppy looks wearing their purple and red. Neil texts their responses back to Matt and then closes out of his phone. Nila Jones, their female offensive dealer picks that time to sling an arm around Neil’s shoulder and simultaneously join their conversation and steer them out of the room with the rest of the team.

“Hey y’all, the vote was unanimous, for once in our goddamn lives. So, everyone’s off to Chewy’s to celebrate.”

She looked at their various expressions and the way they’d been huddled around Neil’s phone and continues before any of the men can get a word in edgewise.

“What’s with the pow-wow? Don’t tell me you were trash-talking Minyard without me again. I still owe him for that return ball to the ass.”

This time it was Lovejoy and Martin’s turn to look confused.

“Why would we be trash talking Minyard?”

Nila shared a long-suffering look with Neil, who just shrugged and correctly assumed that she’d explain it for him.

“Uh, because the midget just threw down a gauntlet on twitter?”

“Who did what!?”

Another voice called out, drawn in by Nila’s naturally loud voice and fiery attitude.

“Andrew Minyard’s already talking shit to Josten about the playoff game.”

A third voice chimed in, Henry Beckett already passing his phone around with the exchange pulled up.

“Of course, he is.”

Someone else sighed amongst other mutterings or exclamations as the topic of conversation grew to include the rest of the team. Thankfully, their stomachs were just as big of a deal as their chirping and the group continued to migrate out to their cars. Since they were all going to the same place, it was typical to carpool in smaller groups. Neil was less than surprised when several players packed themselves into his “mom car.” It had plenty of seats and a guaranteed DD. He did smile as the conversation washed pleasantly over him, though. Being the driver also had the excuse of having to pay attention to the road rather than feel obligated to join in.

A few minutes in, however, despite those in the back having long moved on to a different topic, Martin brought Andrew’s tweet back up.

“Seriously though, don’t stress yourself about that Marauders game.”

Neil glanced over at him with bland incredulity written on his face.

“Why would I be worried? I practiced against Andrew for four years.”

One of which he was probably actively trying to keep from killing me. He doesn’t add.

Martin laughed, softly and warmly.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be. I just wanted to remind you that we’ve got your back. And if Minyard tries to start anything, I’ve got 40lbs and ten inches on him.”

Neil seriously doubted that was as much of an advantage as Martin thought it was. Andrew could wipe the floor with him. He nodded anyway.

“I’m fine…but uh, thanks.”

Practices for the next two weeks include a lot of speed and precision drills and even more scrimmages. When they play the Arizona Diamondbacks, the win comes almost too easily – even with Laila Dermott in goal. It’s definitely one of the more brutal games of the season, with everyone on both teams pushing themselves to be the better player, but Neil flies through it with single-minded focus. When they line up to shake hands after the match, Neil is only a little surprised when her grip pulls him into a fierce hug.

“Give him hell next week, Josten.”

To anyone watching or listening, her show of support banked on the rivalry. It wasn’t hard to tell that she’s talking about Andrew. But there was a warmth and amusement in her eyes that told Neil she didn’t believe the hype and it settled him. He returned her grin and tightened his grip on her arm before letting go.

“With pleasure, Dermott.”

St. Louis and Miami were far enough away that there was no question of whether the Furies would be flying or driving. Neil snapped a picture of the runway from his window seat and sent it to Andrew as they waited for the rest of the plane to finish boarding.

-On my way-

It didn’t take long for the goalie to respond with a curt -154%- and Neil found himself smiling at it before he put his phone in airplane mode and pulled up the “TRAVEL” playlist Nicky and the girls had made for him his Junior year. (Directly below that was a playlist labelled “Neil’s pop culture education” and below that one labelled “Junkie” that consisted solely of songs about obsession created by Andrew.) Neil certainly didn’t have the fear of heights that Andrew did, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed being stuck in a metal tube hurdling through the air. Luckily it wasn’t that long of a flight and his teammates were just as eager to talk Exy when they got bored as he was, so it wasn’t too bad overall.

When they landed in Miami, Neil was hit with two things; the roar of a crowd and a wave of humidity. Even in early October the heat was suffocating. Neil found it amusing for a moment that Andrew had been willing to put up with it just for the sake of denying Kevin’s campaign to get him to sign to Chicago with him. It was just absurd enough to be perfectly, quintessentially Andrew that Neil found himself smiling. Despite his discomfort, the soft grin remained as the team was shuffled through the crowds by their security team.

Stepping into Miami’s inner court had a similar effect. The Marauders’ maroon and sky-blue color scheme coupled with their pirate mascot lead to a very other-worldly feel to their court. It exhilarated Neil to feel like he was encroaching on the territory of some long-lost pirate king, to know that he’d be facing down Andrew when the doors locked and the buzzer sounded. It bolstered the blood pumping through his veins and the lazy grin that liked to take residence on his face on game-days.

“Now there’s the Neil Josten the world knows!”

Martin crooned, ruffling Neil’s hair and bouncing off of him to swat playfully at the rest of the team before taking up his proper spot in line.

“Ah, yes, the true Fury. Honestly, with someone like Josten around, why do we even have a mascot?”

Nila joked, her own face lit up with a fierce grin.

The Furies were hardly the Foxes, but regardless of their pasts, they banded together over the thrill of dominating on the court, of struggling for every win and fighting tooth-and-nail against every loss. They were a team of passion and adrenaline. Sometimes that meant they made mistakes or pushed themselves or their opponents too hard, but they never regretted it. Neil, never regretted it.

“All right team, listen up!” Their coach called, shouting to be heard over the crowd just outside of the tunnel and the announcer making his way through the Marauders’ line-up.

“You’ve been working hard all week and all season. I know there are some other external factors pushing you to be your best for this game,” His gaze dragged over Neil for just a moment. “and while I’m glad it’s pulled some of your heads out of your asses, don’t let it make you sloppy. This may be a pirate court, but ships burn and flags fall to even the slightest miscalculation. Now let’s show those Marauders who’s boss!”

And with that warning and pep-talk all wrapped up into one, the Furies turned their attention to the court and stepped into the roaring wave of supporters and enemies alike.

Neil had warned his fellow strikers in the practices leading up to the game of Andrew’s unpredictability. “He’ll try to shut me out completely, but there’s no telling if he’ll put the effort in against anyone else.” He half-explained. “We need to put as many points on the board as possible before that happens.”

The Marauders liked using Andrew as a last line of defense, throwing him on in the second half. Even a bored Andrew had the potential to make better saves than any other goalie, plus it gave him time to watch how the other team’s strikers played. Thankfully, the Furies typically played Neil at the start and end of the games. Unlike the Foxes, they had more than enough people to switch people out in a quarterly fashion rather than waiting until a substitute was actually necessary. It allowed him to play hard and start the team off on the right foot and then rest before giving it his all to clinch a win, or at least drag the score closer to even. This meant that Neil and Andrew didn’t share the court until part-way through the second half.

He heard the crowd roaring, a chorus of cheers and boos, as he stepped into the court and clacked sticks with the striker he was replacing. However, he only had eyes for Andrew. The goalie had been casually resetting from the goal his strikers had just scored, but his stance shifted when he caught Neil’s gaze. Though it was nearly impossible to see from halfway across the court, Neil grinned. What was clearly visible, however, was the mocking two-finger salute he gave Andrew before taking his starting spot on the half-line. For the first time all game, when the buzzer sounded Minyard looked tensed to protect his goal.

The Furies’ plan to rack up as many points as possible before Neil and Andrew faced off went about as well as possible considering that they still had the whole rest of the team of professional players to deal with in that time. Andrew didn’t put up much of a fight against Neil’s fellow strikers, but he didn’t just stand there disinterested either. They had a two-point lead when Neil came on and he would be damned if he let that slip.

The Marauder’s backline, newly replenished, had apparently made it their goal to keep Neil from even getting near the goal. Their efforts would have been admirable if their rivalry had any actual substance to it, but even just the fact that Neil knew their persistence and borderline fouls bothered Andrew more than it bothered him gave him extra strength to push through. In the end, their efforts were futile. He was too quick, too resigned to the possibility of injury and too determined to make his shots to be stopped by something as mundane as solidarity.

Andrew, it seemed, didn’t appreciate this either.

The first shot Neil took on him, ricocheted all the way to the far court wall.

Even inside their plexiglass box, the scream of the crowd at that power move and Andrew’s return salute was deafening. Neil bared his teeth and kept going.

His second, third and fourth attempts were similarly thwarted, though the last time, Andrew had the audacity to slam it back at him fact and hard enough that Neil stumbled back several steps in order to retain possession long enough to pass it back to his dealer. It was a warning and a challenge all in one. Neil couldn’t out-power Andrew like he had the backliners, not when Andrew knew him so well. He had to play smarter.

A thrill ran through him, even as the Furies lost possession and their goal lit up red. By the time they’d moved into position to restart play, Neil had already planned out his next goal, the possibilities stretching out before him like a hundred different threads of light – all leading to the wall behind Andrew’s back. He turned to look at his fellow striker, inclining his head once he had Beckett’s attention. The man grinned back and let out a whoop as the buzzer sounded.

Neil, who typically sprinted at the start of play, hesitated for just a moment. Nila had possession of the ball to start the game and Beckett was the obvious choice to pass to given their positions. She didn’t waste time throwing a quizzical look in Neil’s direction, but everyone knew his main strength was his speed. Likewise, he kept his focus on the backliner charging towards him and counted to three in his head before finally taking off. For a moment, it looked like he would hit the man head-on, but then he swerved, changing his course so that he was on the opposite side of the course. Beckett passed him the ball high off of the wall and then juked out of the way of his own backliner’s attempt to check him. Neil knew they only had a few moments to plan his best route before both of the backliners would converge on him.

He wasn’t in the ideal position and ten steps wouldn’t be enough to get there, so he shot the ball back to Beckett, diverting the woman who was supposed to be Neil’s mark to guard him. Their brief encounter provided him with the time he needed to get around his own new mark. He whistled and kept moving towards the back wall, picking up speed so that his backliner had to sprint to keep up. Finally, Beckett found the opening and shot the ball back to him with impressive accuracy.

When it found its way into Neil’s waiting net, the backliner was almost upon him, but it was too late. The back wall loomed up in front of him and Andrew had shifted to place himself between Neil and the goal. It was possible that he’d pass it back to Beckett or Nila, but both were tied up with their own defensemen and Andrew could smell a shot like a shark drawn to blood. Four steps and he’d be even with Andrew, six and he’d hit the wall. His backliner breathed down his neck, ready to turn that six into three. Instead of dodging, however, Neil pushed himself harder and launched himself at the wall just before his mark could shove him into it. His right foot propelled him off of the ground and his left reversed his momentum from the wall back toward the court. He twisted his torso and passed to himself off of the wall, catching it just after clearing his backliner’s hunched form.

The first step stumbled.

The second secured.

The third pivoted.

The fourth provided enough torque for a backhand shot right into the unprotected center of Andrew’s goal.

Neil didn’t know what was more deafening, the utter silence from the players and crowd as the goal lit up red, or the roar of disbelief as the buzzer sounded half a second too late and everyone went wild.

He did know, however, that the momentum from his trick shot him forward so that he tumbled head over heels to lay flat on his back in the mayhem. He grinned up at the ceiling as everyone around him freaked out. Intellectually, he knew he should get up before that freak-out turned from excitement to dread at a possible injury, but for now he was content to lay there and absorb the moment.

Beckett reached him first.

“You know,” He said, towering over him like a friendly shadow giant against the bright lights of the stadium. “I thought you were absolutely nuts when you first started adding all of those jumps and gymnastics to your circuit. But if that’s what comes out of it, then damn, sign me up.”

Neil’s grin widened and he accepted Beckett’s hand up. Once his pads were straightened out, he turned back towards the goal.

Andrew stood there like a statue, immoveable, immutable, invincible. Except Neil had just scored on him. The goalie wore his disdain plainly on his face and Neil knew, short of another crazy stunt or miracle, it was the last goal their team would make that night. But it was worth it. Worth it for the thrill, the point, the so-called rivalry. It was worth it for the way Andrew stood on an Exy court and felt – even if his feelings had more to do with his annoyance for Neil than the actual game.

This time, when Neil smiled, it was small and private. And even though there was no way for Andrew to see it, he huffed and called out after him in Russian.

“Idiot.”

“How much money do you think I just won Allison?”

Neil replied cheekily.

The rest of the players froze for a moment, given that Andrew very rarely said anything to anyone on the court – especially not to the other team, but when Neil walked calmly away, they followed suit.

True to his prediction, Andrew locked down the goal for the rest of the game, regardless of who was shooting at him. Despite this, Neil put his best effort in. He used the time more to irritate Andrew with trick shots that made him work for it or aiming at the top of the goalie’s helmet or his left foot. He’d probably pay for it later on, but it was worth it for the fire he saw in Andrew’s eyes each time.

The Furies won 7-6.

No matter how they tried to play things, the Furies knew there was no escaping Neil doing press duty for the game. It was too exciting of a game and his reported rivalry with Andrew was too high-profile for anyone in the room to let it go. So rather than waste other players’ time fielding questions that weren’t actually for them, Coach threw Neil out after their showers alongside the team’s captain with a strict warning not to start anything.

He knew how futile it would have been to demand he remain completely civil.

“Raymond! That was one hell of a game. How do you feel about the Furies’ chance for the National Cup this year?”

Neil’s captain grinned.

“Honestly, Julia, I think the team really showed themselves tonight. We were up against a tough opponent on their home court, but still managed to come out on top. We couldn’t have done that without relying on each other and staying sharp. I think tonight’s game is a good indicator of the season the Furies are looking forward to.”

Predictably, the actual Exy questions ran out long before their time with the press did. Neil wanted to look at his watch to gauge how long they’d managed to stay on topic, but he kept his attention on the reporter as they inevitably brought up Andrew.

“Neil, how did tonight’s game feel for you? That was one hell of a goal in the second half, but it had to have been frustrating to be shut out the rest of the game.”

“We came into this game expecting a hard fight. If the goalie wanted to add a little personal challenge to it, then that’s his prerogative. It wasn’t a perfect game, but the way I see it, we won. I’m more than happy with the results.”

“Speaking of personal challenge, both you and Minyard have been incredibly vague about this growing rivalry, but after tonight, it doesn’t seem like it’s likely to die down anytime soon.”

“Is there a question in there?”

The Furies’ captain admonished. The reporter inclined their head and rephrased their point, still directing it at Neil.

“If you could, perhaps, shed a little light on how, exactly this rivalry came to be or why you both seem intent on letting it continue?”

Neil shrugged.

“Andrew hates me. Always has. As for me, well, I guess my survival instincts aren’t as good as they used to be.”

He grinned sharply into the camera, too smug to resemble his father.

“Now, are there any more questions actually relevant to tonight’s game? I did just spend two hours running around and the hotel we’re staying at has a Jacuzzi.”

Beside him, his captain muttered a quiet “thank god” when no one responded and he was able to wrap things up with a quick goodbye before herding Neil as far away from the microphones as possible. Neil found it funny that he thought they’d gotten off lightly.

While he hadn’t lied about being tired, or the hotel room having a nice tub, Neil did not return to it when he begged off celebrating with the team early on. Instead, he typed a familiar address into his GPS and drove 20 minutes to a more suburban area, pulling his crossover into the open garage of a nondescript grey house. Beside it, long cooled, resided a black Maserati.

“Took your time.”

Said the figure lurking in the doorway into the house, clad completely in black. Neil looked up from the car to meet Andrew’s hazel eyes. He shrugged.

“Some of us actually make an effort to bond with our team.”

“Well if you’d rather do that, then don’t let me get in your way.”

Andrew’s comment was snide, but his tone level. Still, Neil rolled his eyes and walked around his car to the steps in front of Andrew.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Pity.”

Andrew replied, acknowledging his current height advantage only with a sweep of his eyes. After a moment, he pushed off of the door jamb and turned to go back inside.

“I’m not kissing you in the garage.”

He called back, leaving Neil to shut the outer door and follow him hastily inside.

“You were great tonight, you know.” He yelled in after the blonde. The thud of the freezer door told him Andrew was in the kitchen.

“I’m certainly not touching you if you’re going to talk about Exy the whole time.”

Neil grinned, watching shamelessly as Andrew stood from returning his ice-cream to the freezer. He waited until he had the blonde’s full attention before he stepped up into his space, his eyes glittering with playful question.

“Then why don’t you shut me up?”

Andrew rolled his eyes, but the kiss he pulled Neil into betrayed him and Neil sank into it.

[ohwhoopsok]

I don't know if you take suggestions for your fics but i had a thought for The Unloved Kids: adult pacifiers???

ASIDFKJDF OK HI LET’S TALK, I’M GONNA RAMBLE THIS IS BASICALLY A COMMENT FIC SORRY

Tangential, but: I had the random thought a while ago for someone to get Aaron chewelry and you’ve made me think about that spiraling.

Like, he and Neil are trying to make nice, right? So Neil notices Aaron grinds his teeth/chews his pens when he’s upset, and later notices this girl in class chewing on her bracelet and is like “huh… that looks like it was made for that” and asks her about it. (She’s probably alarmed as shit because Neil’s Not Great at being comforting to strangers yet, but he’s not making fun and she sees that, so she explains. She talks to him in class now which he as Neutral feelings about, she’s nice enough and doesn’t stare at his scars.)

And so he’s going to order one for Aaron, but then he thinks about the Twins having an actually twins little aesthetic and adds one to the card for Andrew, too. But then he sees one that’s a pirate coin and thinks about Dan who doesn’t really chew things, but he has seen her with the strings of her hoodies between her lips when she’s thinking. And also, Nicky sometimes puts his fingers/Bun-Bun’s ears in his mouth and just– He saves the site for later, he’s thinking too hard.

Then Girl-From-Class gets a new piece and it’s a pendant she can put all the way in her mouth. She gets sheepish and says, “Well, at least it’s not a pacifier, right? [nervous laughter]” and Neil is like… well, maybe not for a college student, but what about a little?

Because now he’s thinking about how Andrew doesn’t like to speak much anyway and he’d be darling with a pacifier, and how he remembers seeing a baby with a “Little Princess” pacifier and Kevin could stand to have his mouth occupied sometimes, when he’s feeling awkward/fussy.

But he doesn’t know how gifts work, so he asks Allison. Who probably cries because that’s the sweetest thing she’s ever heard and now he’s trying to deal with a crying Allison who is essentially squealing yes do it, I’m stealing the idea.

So he buys some stuff, at least for the monsters, and decides to get a paci for himself, too. (This is really more money than he should be spending, but he’s dating Andrew effectively rich so.) Then as soon as he hits “confirm order” he’s !!!!!!! and he calls Wymack wigging out because “I bought Kevin a pacifier????” to which Wymack replies “…what.” But he talks Neil out of his minor freakout because that’s very sweet of you, Neil, even if he doesn’t use it, I’m sure he’ll appreciate what it stands for, don’t worry, kiddo, you’ll be cute with yours, too.

And when they arrive, the box is discreet enough that he doesn’t die getting it from the mail room, but coming into the dorm with it is not subtle, because Neil doesn’t buy stuff and Nicky is Nosy, so he’s fidgeting with it before he just decides to rip it open and hand things out.

Aaron doesn’t know what chewelry is, but goes soft pink when Neil explains and hands him his dinosaur track pendant. Kevin nearly chokes on his food when he sees the honest to goodness, fucking pacifier in Neil’s hands. But his face sort of crumbles when he’s actually holding it and sees the like… “daddy’s lil princess” across the back or something, because he wants it, he loves it.

Andrew doesn’t really say anything, but he takes his pacifier–it says “lil’ monster” of course–and his (arrowhead?) pendant without making a big deal about it. He doesn’t even cock an eyebrow at Neil, just takes them and looks at them and then at Neil for a long time.

Nicky is excited about his emoji pendant and is hugging and kissing Neil and telling him he’s so sweet and nice and thank you very, very much, cutie! (Because he can tell Neil is nervous and he’s very good at taking attention from people who don’t want it all on them.)And yet, “What did you get?”

Neil probably would be inclined to get a plain one, but then he’d remember it’s for little space and figure why not get something a little quirky? His paci has got a little mute symbol on it and Nicky awes and laughs and Neil is feeling very small and sweet so he hides his face in Nicky’s shoulder.

Kevin says he’s going to ask Wymack for a onesie day and steps out of the main room for a bit. Before he leaves, though, he squeezes Neil’s hand. He doesn’t quite look like he’s going to cry, but something’s got his voice, so Neil just squeezes back and lets him step out.

Allison is blowing up Neil’s phone because her order came in, too, and ok she looks super cute, too, Neil asks if he can save the picture of her with a heart between her teeth. Nicky and Aaron go to the sink to wash their new chewelry.

“You could use a mute button,” Andrew says. He doesn’t open either one of his just then, but he kisses Neil and signs, [Thank you] like he means it.

Once they’re at Wymack’s, he does some fussing over them. Neil’s makes him actually laugh out loud and ruffle his hair. When Kevin shyly offers up his paci for Wymack to see, Wymack smiles–maybe has to fight some tears, so sue him, his heart is melting–and washes it off for him, before popping it right in his mouth. “Darn right, that’s my little princess,” he says and lets Kevin hide in his arms when he blushes scarlet.

They’re all doing a fair amount of cooing at each other, too. Allison did get Dan a pirate coin, Matt has a bright green light saber and is STOKED about it, Rene has a purple pacifier to match her purple elephant clipped to the front of her onesie.

When nap time rolls around, Neil is already laying with Allison curled into his back, finding that mouthing on his pacifier is actually sort of soothing. Then Andrew lays down and it very nearly wakes Neil up to see him with his pacifier in his mouth, too. But Andrew looks too aware of himself, of how he must look in a way he’s normally not, lets himself be vulnerable that way, so Neil tries not to look too wide-eyed. Instead he cocks his head, yes or no?

Andrew looks confused, but he nods, he trusts and Neil loves him so ffff much. He leans forward to bump their pacifiers together in a nuzzly little not-kiss that makes Andrew huff, relaxing it. He can pretend it’s annoyance all he wants, Neil knows what his amusement sounds like, he knows what his love sounds like, too. That was both.

On the other end of the sandwich, Aaron is chewing absently his pendant, not really sleepy, but more than happy to relax for a while. Kevin does look sleepy, though, and while normally Aaron isn’t big on being close up while they’re napping it just….dude…..Kevin is in a pink onesie with a pacifier in his mouth, looking droopy about the eyes and….look…….Aaron is a Grown Man but not when he’s little ok and Kevin is goddamn cute and looks like he should be cuddled. So Aaron waves his hand to get his attention and signs slow, [Can we touch?]

Kevin blinks a little, spells, [C-u-d-d-l-e?] And when Aaron nods, he holds his lion out of the way and pulls Aaron close. Aaron would like to think he maintains some dignity in all this, but he’s…he’s short… So if he winds up tucked into Kevin’s chest, shut up about it.

Wymack would normally take nap time to do some quick work or something, but this time around he lays on the sofa and just sort of watches all this happen. He watches them all squish together, some sucking pacifiers, some just cuddling with their faces pressed into the fabrics of their friends pajamas or their stuffies, warm and close, safe and happy.

Kevin meets his eyes over Aaron’s head and Wymack smiles, his insides gone warm and liquid-soft as Kevin’s pacifier bobs with his tiny smile before his face sags gently and he falls asleep just like that.

…you know, i had an “end” chapter in mind for TUK already, but… I don’t know, I’ve never done a story like this before! Do I just keep adding things after the ending? Hm… Is that what series are for? Who knows, not me!! But I just made this plot up on the fly so I might clean it up and make it a oneshot… hm.

Anywhichwho! Thank you for the suggestion, it’s cute, I love it. <3

[minyardjostenrivalry]

I keep seeing wizard AUs where it’s just neil with magic and that’s rad but i needed an andreil au where they’re both magic so here we go

neil is the sorcerer king in the north and the rumors say he killed his father to be crowned. andrew, co-ruler of the kingdom to the south, doesn’t know if he believes that, but if it’s true, it at least makes the northern king nearly worth his interest. neil would have to be incredibly strong to overthrow king nathan, which potentially puts him on par with andrew himself.

andrew and aaron co-rule their kingdom in part because they don’t actually know which one’s older. their mother would’ve told them at some point had she not died in what’s carefully framed as a tragic accident, using a spell she wasn’t powerful enough for. the other reason is that they actually complement each other really well even if they despise cooperating: andrew’s a wildly powerful sorcerer, whereas aaron is better at diplomacy and traditional weaponry

having heard the rumors they figure they should meet neil, but that means going to his kingdom because he doesn’t feel secure enough in his rule yet to want to leave. originally both twins are going to go but there’s a crisis to their east and aaron’s needed to go negotiate so it’s andrew who gets sent up to meet neil (which everyone thinks is going to end in disaster).

it almost does end in disaster because andrew decides the most reasonable way to test the new king’s powers is to try to fight him as soon as they’re alone, which would’ve led to all out war if neil had been literally anyone else

luckily neil knows his kingdom is in no state to fight a war and he doesn’t trust his court enough to call them in when andrew starts throwing spells (he doesn’t know how many are still loyal to his father) so he’s fine with just fighting it out, especially when it becomes clear Andrew’s not actually trying to kill him. his spells are powerful but they deliberately stop short of lethal

once neil very clearly starts fading, not used to holding out so long, andrew abruptly drops his spells and just gets straight to the point. “I hear you killed your father.” neil replies “I hear you’re mad,” which, to be fair, isn’t exactly disproved by what he’s seen of Andrew so far. Andrew’s heard the rumors, nothing neil says will bother him at this point, but he does say “so we’ve both heard wrong”

neil shakes his head and says “I killed the king” and andrew notices the deliberate change in language, “the king” instead of “my father.” neil is without a doubt nathan’s trueborn son, they looked far too much alike for him to be anything else, but there’s a clear distance created there. there’s also the fact that he changed his name as soon as he could, and in andrew’s few dealings with nathan, he can understand why neil wants to create that kind of separation. he’d always thought nathan was ineffective and ruled almost solely on fear, which isn’t a good basis for a kingdom (inspiring fear in your interpersonal relations is one thing andrew has lowkey terrified almost all of his advisors but ruling an entire kingdom based on fear just doesn’t work)

neil eventually loses patience with waiting for andrew to explain himself and he’s like “alright you came in here you tried to fight me, you haven’t been that helpful in other ways, what do you want?” and all andrew says is “you need all the allies you can get at this point” to which neil is pretty much like “what the fuck” because he might be new to being king but he’s pretty sure that’s not how alliances usually start. still, neil had felt how powerful andrew’s magic is, and he’d never met anyone able to rival him. nathan was a strong sorcerer by normal standards, and neil had killed him like it was almost nothing. despite himself, he’s intrigued by andrew. besides, it’s true that he needs allies, the position he’s in is fragile

but anyway onto the rest of the world: the moriyamas are a neighboring kingdom and riko’s a semi rogue sorcerer that has it out for neil. after far too many unsuccessful raids, riko manages to back neil into a trap that renders him unable to use his magic.

what he didn’t expect was for andrew to deliberately step into the trap as well, after neil tries as hard as he can to warn him. it should be an easy victory- neil’s allies are still putting up a good fight outside, but neil and andrew are the cornerstones of the magical defense- but the trap isn’t powerful enough to contain the two most powerful sorcerers currently alive. the wards fall, and riko’s killed in the fallout.

after the battle they have to negotiate with ichirou to stop an all out war but neil’s made more allies than his father ever did so even if the moriyamas managed to defeat neil’s kingdom they’re still surrounded. a forced peace is still a peace, in this case.

(side note on the topic of neil’s allies, dan is queen of a kingdom to the west, matt is her consort, and wymack is her trusted advisor. allison is a rogue princess who’s wicked good with a sword that turns up in neil’s court with renee, who has magic and is mostly a healer but when she goes on the attack you’d better watch the fuck out. allison allies herself and the small collection of knights that followed her with neil. nicky and kevin are in the twins’ kingdom- nicky is a duke who has little official standing but unofficially aids aaron with diplomatic missions, and kevin is a knight who defected from the moriyamas and managed to escape)

it’s the most prosperous time the land’s seen in ages. relations between many of the countries had been strained or outright hostile due to nathan, and the twins’ mother as well, but they’re repaired in time. neil faces his share of domestic rebellions for years after nathan’s death, and there are still some overly ambitious nations that think it’s worth trying to infringe on his land, but over time insurgents learn to flee at the sight of their king side by side with king andrew.

[markonasurface]

45/50 - "I think I made a mistake.”

Fandom: All for the Game/The Foxhole Court Characters/pairings: the Foxes (mostly Nicky, Kevin), Jeremy, Jean Summary: Nicky won’t stop making fun of Kevin’s healthy diet. Kevin has to be right. A/N: Because I saw this post and all I could think of was tfc/aftg. Tbh it’s all I think about these days.

http://maelerie.tumblr.com/post/135803922052/send-me-two-characters-or-more-and-a-prompt-and

Then I saw this post about Kevin eating whatever the fuck he wants. https://neiljousting.tumblr.com/post/160259602320/foxes-evermore-youve-heard-of-green-smoothie

“Kevin, leave me alone!” Nicky twisted his body into what should have been an impossible shape to try to escape Kevin’s grasp.

“We’re playing the Trojans.” Some of the annoyance left Kevin’s voice and was replaced with a reverent awe. “We can’t afford for you to be sluggish on the court because you’ve stuffed yourself full of sugary preservatives.”

Neil pulled on Kevin’s hands to get him to release Nicky. “You know he’s just going to buy it. You’re making a scene.”

Kevin glared. “We’re going to lose. None of you take your diet plans seriously and you eat whatever the fuck you want up until serve.”

A couple of the freshmen Foxes looked down at the treats in their arms. Nicky grinned at them. “Don’t worry. Kevin doesn’t know how to relax about anything because Tetsuji force fed him anything that was green or tasteless up until the night he showed up on our bus reeking of blood. He doesn’t know how to treat himself.”

Kevin made a noise.

“It’s true,” Nicky insisted. “If we win he’ll insist we start sticking to our diet plans and only drinking kale smoothies and shit. If we lose he’ll insist it’s our lack of devotion to Exy and our diet plans and force us all to start eating right and drinking raw eggs so we’re better next year. Have you ever had a bite of an Oreo, Queen?”

“You’ve bought me ice cream.”

“But have I ever seen you eat the ice cream I buy you?”

Neil sighed. “All we ever eat when we go to Sweetie’s is ice cream, Nicky. And Kevin was sponsored and there’s pictures of him eating an Oreo.”

Nicky looked betrayed. “One, it’s creepy that you know there’s specifically a picture of Kevin seemingly snacking on an Oreo. Two, I say seemingly because I’m not entirely convinced he didn’t spit it out after.”

“Fuck you.” Kevin walked away.

“Is he okay?” Sheena asked Dan.

Dan looked over to where Kevin stared at the scoreboard. She frowned. “Eh, Kevin has such a hard on for the Trojans that losing to them is almost an honor for him.”

Neil came up behind Kevin and knocked the back of his helmet. He spoke in French but Dan knew he was telling him to stop being such a traitor. Jean laughed and said something else.

“I normally hate that they purposely speak in other languages around us,” Sheena was still staring. “But it makes it even worse when they’re conversing with the other team in another language.”

“Come on,” Dan said, a little disappointed that this would be her last Exy game, but like the other upperclassmen and the monsters, glad that it was the Trojans knocking them out. “Let’s go shake hands.”

Wymack had booked six motel rooms for two nights so the Foxes could enjoy the California weather. They convened in Wymack and Abby’s room where there was pizza and alcohol and ice cream.

Abby handed Andrew one of the three 1.5 quarts of ice cream and a spoon. She didn’t wait for a thank you before moving on to handing out plates and napkins to the other Foxes.

“Hey, Abby,” Nicky called. “I hope you brought some lettuce and carrots cause otherwise Kevin will only be drinking his dinner.”

Kevin flipped him off but took one of the bottles off the dresser and went to lean against the wall.

Jeremy insisted on showing the Foxes around on Saturday so they met up with a good portion of the Trojan Exy team after breakfast. They crowded onto a bus and had to transfer once before ending up at the Venice Beach Boardwalk. Renee slipped her hand into Jean’s as they walked around.

“Have you guys eaten?” Jeremy asked.

“I’m sure Kevin’s already had his raw eggs, huh, Kev?” Nicky nudged him.

“Your jokes are never funny the first time.” Kevin responded.

Some of the Trojans split up and took the freshmen with them but Jeremy and Jean stayed with the upperclassmen Foxes and Andrew’s group. They split up in twos and threes to go into different stores every so often but never strayed far.

“Oh, we have to try the donuts here!” Nicky exclaimed when they all met up near the end of a line.

“They serve sandwiches, too,” Kevin pointed out.

“Jean,” Nicky whirled around to find the other ex-Raven. “Are you constantly on your teammates about eating healthy or is that just a Kevin thing?”

Jean looked surprised that anyone from Andrew’s group was speaking to him. “I - uh -”

Jeremy beamed at him. “Jean suggests I eat less donuts every time we come here but that’s about as far as the lectures go.”

“Then why is Kevin such a hardass about what I eat all the time?”

“We all play Exy,” Jean commented. “Don’t we all try to eat healthy? It’s a part of the training.”

Jeremy laughed, then said, “Try to remember that the next time we go to that little cafe that serves those little pastries you love so much. And the beignets!”

Jean’s cheeks turned pink and he tried not to look upset as he avoided looking directly at Kevin. “They’re the one good thing I remember before being bought,” he admitted in French.

Neil cocked his head in interest. He felt Andrew notice beside him. He joined Kevin and Jean’s conversation. “Is there a certain food you liked to eat before your mom died?”

Kevin froze. They never talked about his mother’s death. He had been only seven. “Nikuman,” his voice was quiet, almost nervous. “Kakigori. And senbei - uh, like, rice crackers?”

“Japanese food?” Neil questioned, a little confused.

Jean looked delighted. “I know just the place. I forgot you told me your mother liked to be reminded of her time spent in Japan. I know a place that makes really good nikuman.”

“What is that?” Dan asked.

“It’s like a - um, how do you say - uh pork in a bread?” Jean sounded excited. This had the Foxes exchanging glances and Renee and Jeremy beaming brightly. He still had a ways to go but he was far from the numb, broken thing that came to the Trojans. “We could get shaved ice. There’s a place near there and they have all sorts of toppings. They have, uh, sweet milk.”

Nicky grinned. “Sounds unhealthy. I bet Kevin won’t eat it.”

“Ten dollars he will,” Allison couldn’t help herself.

“Twenty he’ll take one bite,” Matt countered.

“Thirty he’ll have more than one serving,” Allison returned.

“Deal.”

“You guys aren’t coming.” Kevin was already walking away.

Jean led them away from the boardwalk to a small restaurant. As soon as they stepped inside, Kevin was reminded of the restaurant five blocks away from where he lived the first seven years of his life. If they weren’t traveling, his mom took him there at least once a week.

“Kevin?” The others were looking at him and he tried to stop his chin wobbling long enough to scowl.

The waitress came to take their drink orders and looked pleased when she forgot a word in english and Kevin was able to translate. Kevin and Jean ordered for the whole group.

“Can I ask -” Nicky started.

“No.”

“Kevin,” he said crossly. “Doesn’t Japanese food remind you of -”

“No.” Kevin said at the same time Jean said, “Yes.”

Nobody missed the concerned look Kevin discreetly sent Jean’s way.

“Riko wouldn’t have let us eat this stuff,” Jean explained slowly. “Our meals were pretty much always planned and we ate pretty much the same things every day.”

“My mom and I would come to a place like this almost every week,” Kevin said through his teeth and he didn’t know if it was because he was annoyed with the turn the conversation had taken or if it was to stop himself from crying. “So, no. Japanese food doesn’t always remind me of him.”

“Why would you ask that?” Aaron muttered next to Nicky.

The food arrived then and Nicky switched gears. “Ten dollars says you won’t even finish one serving of these bun things.”

Kevin leaned forward and stared at Nicky across from him. “One hundred says I’ll eat five servings and three shaved ice cones.”

Neil stared at Kevin, trying to get him to look at him. He turned to Andrew on his other side when he heard him state, “Idiot.”

As they got on their first bus back to USC’s campus, Neil saw Jeremy grab a few sick bags from the front. Kevin sat in the first available seat and Nicky sat next to him, smiling from ear to ear.

They weren’t even five minutes into their hour long bus ride when Kevin clapped a hand over his mouth. Jeremy had been watching him closely, suspecting like everyone else that this moment was bound to happen. He held out the sick bags and Kevin quickly snatched one.

Nicky laughed hysterically, gripping his stomach and sliding around in his seat. The others were less amused.

“Idiot.”

“Someone empty a shopping bag!” Jeremy called out to their group.

Unsurprisingly, Renee emptied her black plastic bag into Jean’s lap and passed the bag to Jeremy who held it open so Kevin could drop the sick bag inside and continue throwing up.

By the time they reached their transfer stop most of the other passengers had either gotten off or were glaring at the Exy players. Kevin was a little green and sweaty when they stepped off the bus.

“How about we walk?” Jeremy suggested amicably. “Maybe the fresh air will help.”

Kevin dropped his bag into the garbage can and followed along. Nicky grabbed his shoulders from behind and shook.

“You owe me one hundred bucks!” His shout was gleeful.

Kevin swallowed hard before opening his mouth. “You bet that I wouldn’t eat more than one serving. I bet that I would eat five servings and three shaved ice cones. Not that I wouldn’t puke it all up after. You. Owe me one hundred bucks.”

“No!” Nicky wailed dramatically, letting Kevin hold up his weight.

“A bet’s a bet.” Allison passed them. “You owe me ten.”

She cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Matt! You owe me thirty dollars!”

At the motel Neil waited for Kevin as he bent over the bushes. He looked up at the top floor and saw the other Foxes going into their rooms. Andrew joined Wymack at the railing and held out a hand. Wymack dug in his back pocket and produced a cigarette and a lighter.

Kevin groaned bringing Neil’s attention back to him. He waited for Kevin to start toward the stairs before following along.

When they reached the third floor and approached Wymack and Andrew, Wymack asked, “Is he drunk?”

Neil glanced at Andrew and inwardly sighed, just knowing he had probably shrugged when Wymack asked him. Sometimes he could be difficult.

“No,” Neil said honestly.

“I think I made a mistake,” Kevin moaned, sounding more miserable than any morning he was suffering from a hangover.

“You think?” Andrew threw his cigarette over the railing and stepped toward their room. “Idiot.”

[pinelife3]

Businesses I Worry About

When thinking of get rich quick schemes, good ideas might include:

Dropshipping 

Chill hop radio streams on YouTube (there has to be some money to be made, right?)

Automating the set-up of Wordpress sites (actually cool themes, basic pages, get rid of shitty blog post format so a business can use it, etc.) and charge ~$20/site

ATM skimmers 

Buy the domain www.jetstor.com and make it look exactly like JetStar’s site. Sell fake plane tickets. Use elaborate VPNs and darkweb security stuff to avoid detection. Once the scam ceases to be profitable repeat with virgon.com and any other business where a user might mistype the website’s URL. I’d suggest this scam works best for businesses with a ‘u’, ‘i’ and/or ‘o’ in the name as these three letters sit beside each other on the keyboard (facilitating fat-fingered typos) and also people tend to pay less attention to vowels 

Not high at the top of anyone’s list: opening a restaurant.

You may not think this wandering through Chinatown, perhaps on account of the the hand-written BYO WINE ONLY signs or perhaps because of the waiters killing fish in the alleys*, but the choice to open a restaurant is indicative of the kind of pure human energy which has nothing to do with wanting to get rich. 

(*I swear they do this at New Kum Den - when someone chooses one of the depressed barramundi from the tank, they fish it out, put it in a bucket and then sneak off to kill it in the alley so the kitchen doesn’t get all fish’d up.)

Just think of everything that could go wrong:

Ruinous upfront and ongoing costs

Unfair reviews

Unreliable twenty-something staff

Think about how much chairs and plates and mops and cutesy pot plants and signs cost. How many tea towels do you need? How many forks? Think about how hard it must be to find a full staff of people you trust. Think about opening for the first day and no one buying anything. Same deal on the second day. Your vegetables start to go bad in the fridge. Did you make a mistake?

This is basically my opinion on restaurants: they are risky investments, shouldered by the courageous so that the whole community has places to go where they can eat delicious ramen or dumplings or fried chicken with blue cheese sauce. With that in mind, why would anyone risk it all to open the establishment pictured below?

Falafel Place opened on Smith Street around 6 months ago. As you can see, it is not stylish - that’s why they called it Falafel Place rather than Palace. It already looks tired and it just opened. It doesn’t beckon. It doesn’t repel. It just exists (for now).

The Smith Street area is already home to many kebab/Lebanese cheap eats joints:

The only angle I can see that Falafel Place may have is that they specialise in vegetarian food (i.e. no kebabs here - only falafel, tabbouleh, etc.) but there’s nothing to recommend this place beyond being vego-friendly.

Something about this place has really gotten under my skin. None of the kebab joints (with a possible exception of Lamb on Brunswick) I’ve highlighted above is especially creative or adventurous in what they’ve opened. I don’t feel a glow of human courage and pride emanating from those businesses - but they do have one thing going for them (beyond the meat): the baked-in grease in the walls, the ravaged staff who have become canny to the ways of the local drunks (getting your kebab is like a hostage negotiation - you’ll have to hand over the cash before you get your food). There’s just something grotty but dependable about the local kebab joints. Like the raw onions in a kebab, it brings a tear to your eye. Not so with Falafel Place. I feel so much pity for the owners. Why would you risk so much money (Smith St rent can’t be cheap - how much fucking falafel will you need to sell to make ends meet?) on a place which looks so disinterested - disinterested in falafel and disinterested in selling us falafel. Do you people even like falafel? Nothing about this place suggests even a passing interest in falafel. Falafel PLACE?! 

INTERVIEWER: Excuse me Mr. Proprietor, could you tell us something about what inspired you to open this establishment?

PROPRIETOR: Huh?

INTERVIEWER: Could you spare some time to -

PROPRIETOR: Are you talking to me?

INTERVIEWER: Yes, aren’t you the genius behind this fine falafel restaurant?

PROPRIETOR: Ah yeah.

INTERVIEWER: So, could you tell us a bit about what inspired you to open such a -

PROPRIETOR: Look lady, falafel just spawns here. Every morning we come into the office and find all our desk drawers full of falafel.

INTERVIEWER: You mean you don’t lovingly cook this using a recipe your great-grandmother left you in her will?

PROPRIETOR: No we don’t cook it. We’re accountants. We just sell falafel out of the office reception so it doesn’t attract ants where we’re trying to work.

INTERVIEWER: But why not just eat it yourselves - I don’t understand.

PROPRIETOR: Eat the falafel? I can’t stand the stuff. So dry. It’s awful.

INTERVIEWER: I have to say this is one of the more candid interviews I’ve conducted for Made Up Falafel Magazine. Could you explain the thinking process behind the name?

PROPRIETOR: Falafel Place? Well, yeah we didn’t want to lay it on too thick with superlatives or -

INTERVIEWER: Or even a name which wasn’t a statement of fact.

PROPRIETOR: Look, this is a place where there is falafel. Buy it or not - I really don’t care.

Meanwhile... not too much further along Smith Street, is another newish business: Sen Storm, a Veitnamese fusion restaurant. This premises used to be occupied by a New Orleans po boy joint which seemed to be perpetually closed. A few months ago, I saw that they were re-tiling the shopfront - like so, I think it actually looks really nice:

(It’s closed in this pic - it normally looks a bit more welcoming)

Maybe it’s because I was dimly aware of the failure of the po boy place, but I am very stressed for Sen Storm. Every time I walk past, I look in to see if they have enough customers. Are the staff busy? Are people eating there? Is it being enjoyed? I desperately want the people of Sen Storm to have made a good investment. I can feel the care radiating out of this place - they want it to be nice, they want people to enjoy it. They’re trying something new. Vietnamese food is typically pretty cheap in Melbourne: $12 bowls of pho, $4 banh mi on Victoria Street. Sen Storm is edging their way into fancier restaurant prices ($25 mains, nice cocktails) - there are not many other places in Melbourne doing nice napkin Vietnamese.

I read this interesting article on why noodles are cheap compared to pasta - it has a lot to do with our biases relating to the hierarchy of cuisines:

The other issue in all of this, is us, the dining public. What prices are we willing to pay for pad Thai, ramen or a plate of dumplings? All the chefs interviewed acknowledged a cultural hierarchy that makes noodles cheap and pasta expensive.

"Why would people pay $30 for cacio e pepe, which is really just pasta, black pepper and cheese, but they won't pay more than $10 for three amazingly made har gau or xiao long bao, which probably require a whole lot more skill than making pasta?" asks Dan Hong.

Narada Kudinar, co-owner of Sydney's Yan, sees this play out in his Chinese-style smokehouse.

"We get people who walk into the restaurant, after Googling we are the top-rated Asian restaurant in the area and walking out after seeing the menu prices."

Mr Bayad feels the same frustration running his inner-Sydney Filipino restaurant.

"Customers frequently come in claiming they ate the same food for 43 cents at a street market in the Philippines.

"I deal with that fairly often here and it's an old conversation — I'm just sick of it. The production [of food] here is completely different."

It's an expectation rooted in mainstream experiences of Asian food — from chicken chow mein in suburban Chinese takeaway restaurants with the lucky cat figurines to $1 pad Thai on Bangkok streets.

Even those with Asian heritage can hold the same prejudices. "The easy stereotypes are very ingrained — the idea of yum cha being a 'hangover food' and Chinese being a 'quick, cheap option' — that is ingrained in me as well," says Dr Lee.

^^ This graph is from an Atlantic article from a few years ago which also looks at our biases around food, like why we will pay more for Japanese and French food than Chinese or Thai. Anyway, I do believe tastes and expectations are changing, but the point I’m trying to make is that Sen Storm is part of a new wave - they’re taking a risk and they care.

After months of anxiously peering into Sen Storm, wondering what it was like, I finally went with Matt. We ordered:

Duck curry: orange duck leg curry with egg noodles

Pepper venison: venison seasoned with Vietnamese mountain pepper served with parsnip puree and chilli chutney

Nice, right? I did photograph the food but my pictures were awful (my proud tradition of producing vomitous food photographs continues) but you can see a bit of the venison in the pic below and a corner of the curry as well. Both were very tasty and it felt like a surprising meal. Again, they’re trying something new.

I can understand why the people at Sen Storm took the risk - they had an idea, something to share, and they opened a restaurant which is still not bustling but is slowly accumulating positive reviews and will hopefully grow into a successful business. But if restaurants are risky investments - does it make sense to gamble on something you care about? Is Sen Storm more likely to do better than Falafel Place because the Sen Stormians are passionate? Maybe - but the margin by which Sen Storm has to do better is huge because building something special has cost them a lot more. Falafel Place is built on a foundation of plastic takeout containers. 

In short, I am still worried about Sen Storm.

[chestnutpost]

Everything Else You Want To Know After Seeing ‘Leaving Neverland’

This post was originally published on this site

“Leaving Neverland,” which HBO aired in two parts on Sunday and Monday, offers the Me Too era’s most detailed portrait of sexual abuse to date. In profiling two men who say Michael Jackson charmed his way into their childhoods, only to molest them repeatedly and later cast them aside, Dan Reed’s documentary shows how an alleged predator courts and manipulates vulnerable targets, leaving behind emotional wounds that are hard to mend.

However thorough the film may be, it leaves many unanswered questions. Reed had a lot of ground to cover in order to piece together a resonant compendium of Wade Robson’s and James Safechuck’s experiences, so even with a four-hour running time, “Neverland” skirts certain particulars.

I’ve attempted to fill in some of those gaps. If you’ve seen the doc, let’s dig into a few omissions. (You can also learn more about the movie via my interview with Reed, conducted a few days after “Neverland” premiered at Sundance.)

First thing’s first: Macaulay Culkin. When’s the last time he spoke about his relationship with Jackson? 

As recently as January. On an episode of the celebrity interview podcast “Inside of You with Mathew Rosenbaum,” Culkin said that nothing untoward happened with Jackson ― a refrain he’s repeated time and again over the years, including when he took the stand during Jackson’s 2005 molestation trial. “It’s almost easy to try to say it was weird or whatever, but at the end of the day, we were friends,” Culkin told Rosenbaum, calling the relationship “normal” and “mundane.” 

Based on what we know from Culkin’s 2005 testimony, many of his experiences with Jackson ― extensive phone calls, limitless shopping sprees, childlike games ― mirror those of Robson and Safechuck. A key difference, as Culkin tells it: The bed they shared was platonic. 

“He enjoyed my youthfulness,” Culkin said on “WTF with Marc Maron” in early 2018. “He liked being a kid with me. It never struck me as odd. I never felt uncomfortable. That was just the way he was.”

I reached out to Culkin’s publicist to ask if the “Home Alone” actor would talk about “Leaving Neverland,” vowing to treat the interview with care given the sensitive subject matter. “We are receiving myriad requests all with the promise of intent to ‘handle the topic responsibly,’” she responded. “We appreciate your interest Matt, however no thank you.”

Kevin Kane via Getty Images Michael Jackson and Macaulay Culkin at a star-studded concert celebration for Jackson, held at Madison Square Garden in 2001.

Let’s talk about the other members of Jackson’s entourage mentioned in the documentary. What about the makeup artist who escorted Safechuck to Jackson’s trailer on the set of the Pepsi commercial?

That’s Karen Faye, who worked for Jackson for almost three decades, until he died in 2009. She was fiercely loyal and attentive, so much so that gossip mongers wondered if she and Jackson were having an affair while he was married to Lisa Marie Presley. Faye testified in his 2013 wrongful-death trial, describing the painkiller dependence Jackson developed after his hair caught fire while shooting a 1984 Pepsi ad. 

It appears none of that loyalty has faded. On her unverified Twitter account, Faye has spent the past several weeks defending Jackson against Robson and Safechuck.

Michael Jackson’s name, art and legacy will live on forever. The accusers and con artists will disappear into obscurity when we stop saying their names.

— Karen Faye (@wingheart) February 25, 2019

Where can I see Safechuck’s Pepsi ad?

Right here. 

What about the housekeeper mentioned in Part 2?

That’s Blanca Francia, who worked for Jackson from 1986 to 1991. Francia said during the 2005 trial that she spotted Jackson showering with a 7-year-old Robson, something she’d alluded to years earlier in an interview for the popular TV tabloid series “Hard Copy.”

Francia’s son, Jason, was allegedly molested by Jackson on three occasions ― twice at Neverland Ranch and once at Jackson’s Los Angeles apartment known as “the hideaway.” In 1996, the Francias reached an out-of-court settlement with Jackson worth a reported $2 million. Jason testified against him in 2005.  

Then there’s Adrian McManus, another housekeeper, who defended Jackson in a 1994 deposition because she worried about potential ramifications but reversed course on the witness stand in 2005. McManus isn’t directly referenced in the documentary, but she recently told the Australian edition of “60 Minutes” that she saw Jackson “kissing” and “petting” boys at Neverland, including Culkin and Jordan Chandler, whose family settled a civil lawsuit against Jackson outside of court in 1994. (Investigators later opted not to pursue criminal charges because Chandler did not want to testify. In the process, they found two other alleged victims who also declined to testify, according to the Los Angeles Times.)

McManus said she signed a confidentiality agreement and was “conditioned” not to question the singer’s behavior. “I was threatened,” she revealed on the program. “His bodyguards told me that if I ever came up on TV that they could hire a hitman, take me out, slice my neck and we’d never find my body. … I lived in fear for many, many years.”

Where have I seen the lawyer with the white hair before?

Thomas Mesereau, who helped get Jackson acquitted in 2005, has made a career out of defending celebrities accused of things like sexual misconduct or murder. The list includes Bill Cosby, Mike Tyson, Suge Knight and Robert Blake.

“I am 100 percent convinced Michael never abused a child, never harmed a child, certainly never molested a child,” he maintained during the same “60 Minutes” piece that features McManus. “I think this is hogwash.”

ASSOCIATED PRESS Michael Jackson and attorney Thomas Mesereau enter the Santa Barbara County Superior Court on June 13, 2005. 

What else happened during the 2005 trial?

A lot, including testimony from Martin Bashir, the journalist responsible for the damning 2003 TV documentary “Living with Michael Jackson,” which became evidence because it featured footage of 13-year-old accuser Gavin Arvizo nuzzled up against Jackson. (I asked Bashir to discuss “Leaving Neverland,” but his manager declined on Bashir’s behalf.)

If there’s a defining takeaway from both the 1993 and 2005 lawsuits, it’s how similar Chandler’s and Arvizo’s accounts are to the ones Robson and Safechuck outline in “Leaving Neverland,” including the tactics Jackson used to coach them and the progression of his alleged sexual acts.

You can reach all about the ’05 trial in the excellent Esquire explainer.

Why doesn’t “Leaving Neverland” feature accounts from members of Jackson’s entourage?

Dan Reed, the director, has been fielding this question a lot. When I asked him about it at the Sundance Film Festival in January, he said he saw little value in including perspectives from people who, unlike Safechuck and Robson, don’t know what unfolded behind Jackson’s security-laden bedroom door. Reed apparently spoke to various legal investigators and Neverland Ranch employees who could only produce “circumstantial corroboration.”

“What we have in the story is from the horse’s mouth,” he explained. “We have the child speaking about what happened to him, and I didn’t know how much more credible it would appear if I have a maid going, ‘Well, yeah, I saw Wade.’ … I never found a single investigator who didn’t think Michael was guilty, and I never came across anything at all that led me to doubt either Wade or James.”

Reed doubled down on “CBS This Morning” last week, responding to accusations of one-sidedness by pointing out that “Neverland” includes Jackson’s perspective via footage of the pop star’s denials from 1993 and 2005. “This isn’t a film about Michael Jackson,” he said. “It’s a film about Wade Robson and James Safechuck, two little boys to whom this dreadful thing happened long ago. It’s the story of them coming to terms with that over two decades, and the story of their families.”

Jackson’s inner circle was huge, so the collective cover-up also must have been huge, right?

In a word, yes. It’s impossible to glean exactly how much everyone knew about the molestation allegedly going on at Neverland and elsewhere, but there’s no doubt that Jackson employed a lot of people who turned a blind eye or reduced his behavior to mere eccentricities. Every time the Robsons or Safechucks were summoned to Neverland, it surely wasn’t Jackson who was booking their plane tickets, chauffeuring them to and fro, or tidying up after them. For comparison’s sake, a striking aspect of last year’s Lifetime docuseries “Surviving R. Kelly” was realizing the breadth of R. Kelly’s co-conspirators. 

“It was very rare that Michael was alone,” Robson told Oprah Winfrey during a special that aired after “Leaving Neverland” on Monday. “He had a machine around him at all times. Secretaries organized most of my phone calls and cars to pick me up to bring me to him. Security guards were always there outside of the door. There were so many people around. There’s no way that Michael could have abused at the level that he did and the number of kids that he did without a machine behind him helping him do that.” 

Taylor Jewell/Invision/AP Wade Robson, director Dan Reed and James Safechuck at the Sundance Film Festival.

Here’s a big one: How are we supposed to feel about the mothers?

Your conclusion is as good as mine, but it’s certainly complex. Something “Leaving Neverland” does particularly well is grant every subject what amounts to a full profile, respecting everyone’s vantage no matter how objectionable.

Jackson didn’t just court Wade and James ― he courted their parents too, quickly ingratiating himself as a pseudo family member and showering them with gifts. As James says, “It’s all a big seduction.” And so it’s easy to see how these middle-class parents with talented sons got swept up in the enchantment, deluded by what Stephanie Safechuck calls “the life of the rich and famous.” 

But at what point does myopia become willful blindness? Neglect, after all, is a form of child abuse.

It’s not impossible to understand the mothers’ positions, though; in America, wealth is an addiction and fame an elixir. These moms thought Jackson, who held all the power in the situation, was fostering their sons’ budding artistic careers. The innocent facade that Jackson projected ― long explained away as a Peter Pan complex stemming from the physical abuse and general frenzy he suffered in his own childhood ― lent them false comfort. 

On the other hand, who in her right mind would leave her 7-year-old at a celebrity’s mansion while spending a week at the Grand Canyon? Who would leave her son in Jackson’s hotel suite overnight after learning that Jackson’s staff had booked her own room far away from his?

They were a pre-Kardashian era’s version of opportunistic momagers. At a certain point, sympathy turns into befuddlement, even if they never lose their humanity ― a conflict that Robson and Safechuck are still grappling with in their adult lives. During a Q&A at the Sundance premiere, Safechuck said his mother is seeking forgiveness that he has struggled to grant.

One quick, peripheral detail: Do celebrities always give away memorabilia willy-nilly?

This is hardly the most vital tidbit from “Leaving Neverland,” but it is mind-blowing that Jackson gave a young Safechuck one of the red jackets from the “Thriller” video. (I say “one of” because another “Thriller” jacket sold for $1.8 million at auction in 2011.)

Safechuck also made off with a bullwhip from “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade,” given to him by the one and only Harrison Ford. I guess when you spend most of your life surrounded by props and costumes and … just … stuff, you stop caring about one little jacket or whip, even if they’re worth millions.

ASSOCIATED PRESS Neverland Ranch in 2009.

Let’s fast forward to the present day. What’s going on with Neverland Ranch?

It’s currently for sale, if you have $31 million and don’t mind living in an alleged pedophile’s home. The 2,700-acre California compound was first listed for $100 million in 2015 but ― surprise, surprise ― found no takers. With the discount, someone will inevitably think it’s a steal, right?

Neverland Ranch, now called Sycamore Valley Ranch, was raided during Jackson’s child-molestation investigation in 2003, but it remains largely unchanged, minus the wild animals and train. 

Will Jackson’s music be muted? 

The first, and to date only, major institution to remove Jackson’s discography from its rotation is BBC Radio 2, the United Kingdom’s most popular station.

A jukebox musical based on the making of Jackson’s 1992 world tour is slated to open on Broadway in 2020. It’s being developed by the Jackson estate, which has already collected a reported $2.1 billion since the singer’s death. I reached out to the writer, Pulitzer winner Lynn Nottage, to ask if production plans had changed and whether the show would include Jackson’s allegations, but I didn’t hear back.

I sent similar inquiries to Spotify and Sirius XM, but no responses there either. Spotify, for its part, nixed R. Kelly from official playlists but did not scrub the alleged child abuser’s catalog altogether; time will tell whether it does the same for Jackson.  

There’s also a Jackson-themed Cirque du Soleil performance running in Las Vegas. “Because of current legal proceedings involving one of our partners, we will not comment on this situation,” a representative said in a email.

Are there more survivors who haven’t spoken out?

Yes, though it’s impossible to say how many. Reed told me he knows of at least one more who declined to participate in the doc. Not counting the two anonymous victims the Los Angeles police located in 1994, that brings the total number of accusers to six: Jordan Chandler, Jason Francia, Gavin Arvizo, Wade Robson, James Safechuck and the unknown man Reed met.

“I do think there are others out there,” Safechuck told “CBS This Morning.” “But I also don’t expect them to just come out now that we’re coming out. It’s such a difficult thing to do, to come out. You have to do it when you’re ready.”

What’s up with all the Jackson superfans still defending him?

Oh boy. My Twitter notifications have been inundated ever since I tweeted about the documentary at Sundance. Meanwhile, Reed has received death threats. Loyalists are targeting the contradictions in Robson’s and Safechuck’s accounts, as the men previously maintained that Jackson hadn’t touched them inappropriately ― a commonality among sexual assault survivors who once felt affection for their abusers. (Robson, for one, said in a sworn statement that he didn’t grasp the nature of what happened to him until undergoing therapy in 2012.)

The coalition of superfans is operating offline too. Seany O’Kane, a British disciple, raised money to purchase advertisements on London buses that promote a website proclaiming Jackson’s innocence. (Another woman is apparently attempting to do the same in Los Angeles.) Almost $7,000 of the roughly $16,000 that O’Kane raised came from the Michael Jackson Chinese Fan Club, according to Vice.

If anything, fans’ refusal to recognize Jackson’s flaws speaks to our limited understanding of sexual trauma and the way hero worship becomes a blinder. He is almost inarguably the most beloved public figure to fall in the Me Too era, having soundtracked childhoods, proms, weddings and other cherished memories. However inexcusable, it’s easy to see how someone would dupe himself into trusting Jackson the same way his accusers did. 

What’s disheartening is that many of those fans probably won’t even watch “Leaving Neverland,” much like Jackson’s relatives, who are denouncing the film and suing HBO for $100 million despite refusing to see it.

But the arguments leveled by Jackson’s siblings are vague and limited, specifically the claim that Robson and Safechuck are only out for money. A judge dismissed the sexual assault lawsuits Robson and Safechuck filed back in 2013 and 2014, respectively ― and not because they lacked credibility, but because California’s statute of limitations invalidated them. (Both suits are pending appeal.) Furthermore, Reed said the men, who are subjecting themselves to relentless scrutiny by speaking out, weren’t compensated for participating in “Neverland.” 

Robson told Rolling Stone he agreed to take part only to “help other survivors and play [a] small role in education and prevention.”

Safechuck, meanwhile, said, “[We started this] pre-Me Too, so I had to set realistic expectations, which I try to do for myself. I figured we were gonna get trashed by everybody else, so I didn’t expect people to believe us or come out in support of us. My focus was just on other victims, that they could hear the story and hopefully see themselves in it.”

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