Tumgik
#'that time aaron broke my new racquet'
whatmack · 4 years
Note
I'm half convinced the only reason Neil didn't sue Aaron for wrecking his property is because of Andrew. like in lesser circumstances,,,he would've been coming for Aaron for getting his Brand New Racket taken away
fuck ur right he is That Bitch i love him so much i love him SO MUCH
195 notes · View notes
codename-adler · 3 years
Text
foxes + onesies (9/9)
based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!
Kevin
every Fox has bad days
some bad days begin with a specific feeling
when Andrew feels ghost hands as he wakes up, when he feels his body too tight for his bones, or hid bones too big for his body
when Neil feels every sound like a knife to his skin, when the scars on his face feel like phantom pains, when he feels a grown man moves too fast, too close to him
when Allison feels jeans cling too much to her thighs, when her shirt brushes too much on her abdomen, when she feels the food she ate resting in her stomach
some bad days begin with a specific date
when it’s the anniversary of Tilda’s death, and Aaron cannot be in the same room as Andrew, no matter how far they’ve come
when it’s the anniversary the Boyds’ divorce, and Matt can’t leave Dan’s side for one second, no matter how strong their relationship is
when it’s the anniversary of Mary’s death, of Evermore, of Nathaniel’s last birthday, of Baltimore, and Neil can’t take a single look at himself in the mirror, no matter how many times Andrew worships his face with his mouth and his fingers
or, when it’s the anniversary of Kayleigh Day’s death, and nobody remembers, not even Wymack, and Kevin is all alone with this grief that is other, unlike any other he carries everyday, unlike anything he can compare to, and he doesn’t know how to feel anymore
Kevin vividly remembers that day, and he sees it luring around the corner as August approaches
but this time, there is no more Riko to worry about, no more mafia to be scared of, no more Ravens to antagonize him, no more Master to punish him for even attempting to grieve every year
and no more alcohol to make him forget
Kevin quit drinking the day they won championship, they day Riko was killed died
it’s been a year and a half, now, and Kevin still wants to drink the minute things get hard mentally
(it’s also been a year and a half since the Foxes started getting onesies, but it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, and only Allison remembers that summer where it all started)
so when Kevin enters his bad days, his bad weeks, the Foxes are used to his mood swinging back and forth between Queen of Assholery and Feral Fox
but Kevin isn’t
he isn’t used to feeling all of this, to always think, and think, and think, until everything inside his head is as loud as the outside, until it’s all too much
yet he’s still expected to go on
still supposed to function, to perform, to be a decent human being when he’s not even sure he even feels human anymore
and so when Kevin snaps, the Foxes are supposed to be used to it
they’re not
nobody is
it’s summer practice
the 9 Foxes came in early, before the two new recruits arrive
Kevin is in the middle of yelling at Neil, who is very much yelling back at him
there’s that moment very full of testosterone where each of them throw away their gloves and helmets and sticks
they’re an inch from each other’s face and then Kevin suddenly… stops
he completely stops
his face goes blank, his feet move him back, his arms go slack
he looks at Neil, and he looks, and looks, and looks…
as if he could find an answer to a question he doesn’t know he’s asking
Neil, who has never learned to watch his mouth after all the trouble it got him into, keeps tearing into Kevin
Kevin keeps backing up and Neil keeps pushing further
but apart from his backwards movement, Kevin doesn’t react
pure apathy doesn’t suit him nearly as well as it did Andrew
the other Foxes are so silent, that between two of Neil’s breaths, they can all hear him whisper
“Stop.”
but Neil doesn’t hear him, or doesn’t want to
it gets so out of control, even Wymack has to step in, on the court, when he sees Kevin so unresponsive
it gets so bad, eventually Neil, too, stops his yelling and just looks at Kevin
and he looks, and looks, and looks…
as if he could understand the question Kevin is asking an answer for with his pleading, green eyes
“Stop… Just- stop. I can’t- anymore… “
Kevin shakes his head and looks at the floor as hatred and hurt grip his guts
he takes another step back
suddenly he jerks his head back up and looks at Neil
“I hate you. God, I hate all of you.”
he looks at all his Foxes
then leaves
Kevin Day leaves the court
behind his back, he doesn’t see Matt holding back a furious yet teary-eyed Dan
he doesn’t see Renee leaving her goal to join Andrew’s side, her big racquet blocking his way
he doesn’t see Nicky putting his hand on Neil’s shoulder, squeezing in empathy
he doesn’t see Allison throwing away her racquet against the plexiglass wall with all that she’s got, fuming and hiding her tears
he doesn’t see Wymack matching over to Neil, a whole speech ready to give Neil his piece of mind
and he certainly doesn’t see Aaron collapsing to the ground, his hands holding his head and gripping his hair, his breaths shallow, his jaw clenched shut, his eyes dry yet red-rimmed
but from behind Kevin’s back, none of them see him either
they can’t see him losing his breath as he starts running away
they can’t see him clenching and unclenching his left hand
and they certainly can’t see him crying
the week that follows is undeniably tense between all the Foxes
that week also coincides with a lot of events
there’s the new Foxes’ arrival
there’s the start of classes
there’s the mandatory psych session with Betsy before Exy season starts
and there’s August 27th
Mom’s accident
Kevin remembers the day vividly, he truly does
he remembers because the week of the accident, he was supposed to start school for the first time, on September 1st
he had picked his outfit for the first day, he had new red Exy-themed shoes, he had even planned the lunch he wanted to have that day in his lunchbox (spaghetti squash casserole. yeah, weird kid.)
on August 27th, Mom didn’t come home
on August 27th, he went to the Moriyama property
on August 27th, he settled into a weirdly well-accommodated room that fit both him and Riko
on September 1st, he woke up with Riko and they prepared for their first day
on September 1st, Kevin wore his planned outfit, put on his red shoes
on September 1st, Kevin did not have spaghetti squash casserole
she left him nothing but an aversion for squash, red shoes, and Exy
which brings us as to why, on August 27th, as all the team is mandated to talk an hour with Betsy Dobson, Kevin Day volunteers to go first (with Aaron volunteering to go second and be the designated driver for the pair)
none of the Foxes have really talked to Kevin since the previous week’s outburst
Kevin has no other outlet for this painful day
it’s either talk to Betsy, or ruin 496 days of sobriety with one vodka bottle
the only words exchanged between Kevin and Aaron, on the drive to Reddin Medical Center, are, surprisingly, from Kevin
“Somebody should get you a new goddamn car.”
he doesn’t elaborate further than that, but Aaron looks at him strangely
his car really is garbage, though
once arrived at their destination, Kevin doesn’t wait for Aaron and bursts in Betsy’s office without warning
it takes at least half an hour of Betsy talking before Kevin gives up his silence
everything was already there, he just had to open his mouth and let his words fall
Kevin: I’ve been sober for 496 days. I’ve been thinking about my Mom’s anniversary for the past few weeks. That’s today, now. And last Friday, I told Neil, then the whole team, that I hated them. Care to unpack that for me?
Betsy: I can help you sort some things out, of course, Kevin. But this is your baggage. I’m afraid I can’t do this without your help. Why don’t you tell me more about this hatred you feel towards your teammates?
Kevin: I dont. Hate them. I don’t… I hate what they do to me. How they treat me. Their double standards. How they forget, how they dismiss. Mind you, I’m well aware of my asshole status. I know I am. But them… they’re… they’re mean. Vicious. They cut and stab and don’t care about what’s underneath. They don’t care that I helped them get the title of Champions. They don’t care that I was there every step of the way, that I was right there beside them when we played the Ravens, when we won. They don’t care that Riko died, that he once broke my hand, that I was legally kidnapped, that I went through hell and still lived to walk on my own two feet. They don’t care that I, too, once had a mom. They don’t care that my Mom died. They don’t care. To them, I’m still just a cunt. It’s unbearable. They don’t give a shit and I’m so, so tired, Betsy. I’m not asking for much. I just want… I want- I want them to let me breathe. I want them to realize that, I’m just like them. I’m a Fox. I’m a Fox as much as they are. I wake up everyday, and feel all this weight on my shoulders, in my stomach, on my heart, but I carry on anyways, and I don’t know why, but I do, just like them. Is that so hard to grasp? Is that so hard to accept? What am I doing wrong, Betsy?
Betsy: Oh, Kevin…
the rest of the session passes in a blur
Kevin talks about how every time he takes a photograph, he thinks of Kayleigh, of how brightly she smiles in all the photos Wymack has of her, of how he wishes he could take pictures of her with his own camera
Kevin talks about how every strong woman in the Irish folklore he reads about wears Kayleigh’s face
Kevin talks about how he thought Thea had been a bit like her, and how, in the end, she hadn’t been at all, she was her own woman, a woman he didn’t know and didn’t love, and how he thought he had lost a bit of Kayleigh again when they separated
Kevin talks
he talks
and Betsy listens
when his time is up, Kevin’s voice is hoarse with exhaustion and sadness
he lets Aaron in as he decides to take a run back to Fox Tower
his mind tries to guilt him into going back to the court, but between facing the Foxes after that and isolating himself in his dorm, Kevin knows what’s best for him
he is only disturbed in the late evening, when Wymack enters the dorm
even Neil, Andrew and Nicky hadn’t come back yet
Kevin knows something is wrong
Wymack isn’t supposed to be here
Wymack: Day… Listen, son.
Kevin sits up on his bed
Wymack: Argh, I’ll cut the bullshit. It’s Abby. There’s been an accident. Her car’s fucking scrap metal now. She was brought to the hospital 45 minutes ago, I just got the call. She’s going into surgery. We’ll all visit her in the morning.
Not again
Not Abby
What the fuck is this life?
Wymack: Number Seven wants to see you now. Don’t ask me why, I don’t wanna know. I’ll let her in, don’t make me regret this. Sleep good, son. I’ll see you tomorrow.
he opens the door, takes one last look at Kevin’s tense form, and leaves as Allison comes in
she’s wearing her giraffe onesie tied at the waist, with an oversized WALKER 09 t-shirt
she stands in front of Kevin until he looks up at her
Allison: Scoot over. We’re watching The Crown.
and Kevin, dumbfounded, lets her and moves
he finds himself quite intrigued by the storyline, enough to only worry about Abby with his fingers, fiddling with one of the giraffe’s horns
after the third or fourth episode, Allison starts to talk, eyeing Kevin’s fingers playing with her onesie
Allison: Wanna know the latest gossip? Even Andrew has a onesie, now. God, I can’t believe this is a sentence that exists. Andrew Minyard owns a fucking onesie. Do you know what that makes you?
Kevin stays silent, eyes fixed somewhere not quite on Ally’s laptop screen
Allison: That makes you the only Fox without one.
Kevin: Oh, so now I’m a Fox? Didn’t seem that way earlier. Or, like, ever.
the dealer chooses her next words very carefully
Allison: Just because we hadn’t seen it yet, just because we were too busy stuffing our heads up our asses, doesn’t mean you weren’t a Fox… I know, I know. Hard to feel like one when the others give you shit non-stop. Been there, done that. And now I’ve done it to you, too, and I’m… Sorry. We’re dysfunctional, there’s no changing that. But- We can do better. We’ll try, promise. I think you’ve made quite an impression on Betsy today, ‘cause we all received a good talk from her during our sessions. I mean, don’t expect Andrew running in to apologize, but, you know… Something about Betsy turning severe makes you re-evaluate your life choices. We’ll do better, Day.
Kevin looks at her, then
really looks at her
and nods
yet just as he turns his attention back to the screen, Allison leaves the Netflix page and googles “onesie adult”
Kevin: Oh, no. Absolutely not. Nope.
Allison: Oh, yes, yes, yessss!
but then, of course, there’s a knock at the door, and Allison gets up, opens the door, lets the person in, whispers something, and leaves
just like that
and oh
It’s Aaron
Aaron: So… Allison tells me you’re finally getting yourself one of those stupid pajamas too?
Kevin: I am not. What are you doing here anyway? The others will be back soon, I assume.
Aaron: Well, it’s my shift…
Kevin: Your what now?
Aaron: No, it’s not like that! We just… We thought you’d want some space because of… today… But then Abby… We didn’t want you to be alone.
Kevin: Really. Who’s “we”?
Aaron: The proud Palmetto State Foxes’ Exy team. All of them. You know, Dan, Matt, Renee, Allison, Andrew and Neil, Nicky… Me.
once again, Kevin can’t help but stare, deeply surprised
Aaron: Andrew and the others will be back for the whole night, but for now, it’s my turn. I wanted to take the first “watch”, but Allison said she had business to do with you. And I’m not getting in the way of that woman.
Kevin honest-to-God snorts
Kevin: If by “business” she meant bullying me into buying this onesie shit, then you should have gotten in her way. I’m not doing that. It’s fucking dumb.
Aaron: Hey!
Kevin: Aaron Minyard, don’t tell me you’ve participated in this madness…
Aaron: So what if I have? It wasn’t exactly on purpose, but I got one. And you don’t. So really, who’s dumb here?
Kevin: What is it??
Aaron: Not telling you.
Kevin: C’mon…
Aaron: Nope. You can’t bribe me. I’m not telling you shit. However, what I can telling you, is that it feels kinda wrong that we all have a pajama and you don’t…
Kevin: Oh my God, fine! What did the others get?
Aaron: Well, besides Ally’s giraffe, we got a tiger, a dinosaur, a teddy bear, you’ve seen Nicky’s unicorn nonsense, and I’m not quite sure about Andrew’s… Oh, and Neil’s is a fox, obviously. That predictable dumbass.
Kevin: Okay, well, I want a fox too.
Aaron: No, Kevin, you can’t.
Kevin: What? Why not!?
Aaron: Because. Neil’s already got a fox. Do you want to be a copycat AND a predictable dumbass?
and so until 1 AM, Kevin and Aaron bicker about each of Kevin’s suggestions (a Palmetto Foxes onesie, a USC Trojans onesie, an Irish-themed onesie, a white fox onesie, a gray fox onesie, and so on…)
when Andrew, Neil and Nicky come back into the dorm, Kevin’s almost laid all the way down on his bed, his head resting on Aaron’s elbow, as Aaron is sitting right next to him, laptop propped on a pillow and his fingers scrolling away
Aaron looks at Andrew, sighs, and looks at Kevin
they nod to each other, before Aaron gets up to go back to his dorm
Kevin sits up correctly when Aaaron is gone and Andrew approaches
Kevin pretends not to notice and googles one more idea, “brown fox onesie”
as he scrolls down and down and down, Andrew looks over his shoulder
and points at one picture
Andrew: That one. Now go to bed. We’re getting up at ass-o’clock tomorrow.
for the third time this evening, Kevin is shocked
he does look at Andrew’s pick attentively, though, and decides to go with it
that night, even if images of Abby covered in blood plague him for at least an hour, Kevin falls asleep to the memory of Aaron’s skin against his cheek, which somehow translates into dreams of Kayleigh resting both her hands on his cheeks as they sit in a field of wildflowers
a couple of weeks later, Kevin doesn’t tell the team his onesie has arrived
but he is forced to admit it when, for Halloween, they organize a huge party for themselves only, where they decided to wear their pajamas as costumes for the night
Kevin feels so stupid in his outfit
he even had to buy a LARGE because he’s so fucking tall
but it still feels… comfy… warm… not so bad…
maybe this can work for him…
it’s only when he steps into the girls’ living room that a problem arises
Aaron: What the fuck is this.
Kevin: Hum… A brown fox? Technically, Neil’s is orange, so you can’t shit on me!
Aaron: That- That’s not a fox, Kevin! What the fuck.
Kevin: Okay, well what are you then?? A mutant mouse?
Aaron: What are you- Oh my God, you don’t know what Pokemons are.
with that, Aaron turns around and yells for his twin
Aaron: ANDREW JOSEPH FUCKING MINYARD. YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE, DIDN’T YOU? YOU BASTARD.
he storms off yelling
Kevin only reunites with Aaron at the end of the night, on the girls’ balcony, both sober
Kevin: You know, for someone who pushed me so much to do this stupid thing, you’re not being very nice about it. I know you wanted me to be “original” or whatever, but it’s not like I look like Neil! Why are you so upset?
Aaron: Kevin. It’s not a fox.
Kevin: Oh for God sake’s Aaron, you-
Aaron: It’s a Pokemon, Kevin. They’re like little monsters, kind of, and it’s a videogame, but there’s anime, manga, and collectible cards and… I used to- I used to collect those. Before. I lost them, now, but see this? This is one of them. It’s the main Pokemon, actually. His name’s Pikachu.
Kevin: Okay… Who am I, then?
Aaron: You… You’re Eevee.
Kevin: And what’s “Eevee”…?
Aaron: Pikachu’s girlfriend.
and oh.
Oh.
Kevin: Andrew didn’t tell me… The little fucker. I thought- Sorry. I didn’t mean to be another pawn in one of Andrew’s little games. Why did he do that to you?
Aaron: I think you know why.
Kevin looked at Aaron
Aaron looked at Kevin
Kevin: Fuck.
Aaron: Yeah, that.
Kevin: What?
Aaron: Nothing!
Kevin: Aaron.
Aaron: Kevin.
Kevin slowly invaded Aaron’s space until his back touched the railing, and placed one hand on each side of the backliner
Aaron looked up at Kevin
Kevin looked down at Aaron
Kevin: Okay?
Aaron: Okay.
and Kevin grabbed Aaaron by the hoodie of his pajama, and pulled him close, closer, closer, closer, until their lips met, at last
it was a long-awaited kiss, a careful kiss, a kiss of home and yes and oh and warmth and safe
Kevin reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead on top of Aaron’s, knowing they have very little time before the other Foxes found them snogging on the balcony like a goddamn cliché
Kevin: Aaron.
Aaron: Kevin.
Kevin: I’m gonna ask you something stupid, and you can’t punch me for it, okay?
Aaron: Fine, okay.
Kevin: Do you want to be the Pikachu… to my Eevee?
Aaron: YOU FUCKING MORON!
and with that, Kevin burst out laughing, as if the Foxes’ attention wasn’t already on them the second Aaron started yelling
Allison and Matt knowingly started whooping with their beers raised for a toast
Dan was facepalming hard, shaking her head, but smiling nonetheless
Renee smiled her genuine, angelic smile while clapping Nicky on the back as he choked on his drink
Neil, arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with contentment
and Andrew. Andrew had no reaction at all. at all.
he was looking at his nails, no knife in sight, no fucks given
which, in Andrew’s language, meant everything
and so that October 31st was one for the books, the books about the good days, the good feelings, the good memories
because the Foxes had those, too
Kevin Day had good days
Aaron Minyard had good days
Allison Reynolds and Renee Walker had good days
Dan Wilds and Matt Boyd had good days
Nicky Hemmick had good days
Neil Josten had good days
even Andrew Minyard had good days
God knows they deserve them
these onesies, as silly, as stupid, as corny, as childish as they may be, were a proof of that
a proof that the Palmetto State Foxes could be better, could do better, and could get better
94 notes · View notes
palmettofoxden · 7 years
Text
I know I just made this post where Andrew takes Aaron’s place in a game, but I already can’t get follow-up ideas out of my head.
Andrew is still exclusively allowed to play as goalkeeper in games
Practices too because he can already be dangerous enough in goal at practices when he’s in the wrong mood
But night practice is a different story
Remember “Perfect your own performance and it won’t matter who is in goal.”
Remember how Kevin doesn’t think the goalie matters when you’re practicing?
Kevin tells Andrew to get one of Aaron’s practice racquets and act as a backliner, pressuring Neil and trying to pick the ball off of him
Andrew would never go along with it if he didn’t want to actually get to face someone instead of standing in net
So he starts grabbing one of Aaron’s racquets every night and acts as a backliner for Neil and Kevin to practice against
Andrew enjoys night practice a lot more when he gets to knock Kevin over
But of course he pretends he doesn’t and is only doing this for the benefit of pathetic Kevin and pathetic Neil who care so much about exy
No one else finds out about Andrew’s new role at night practice for a long time
Until one day Aaron goes to grab his racquet at practice and one of them is broken
He asks who broke his racquet and no one says anything
Aaron looks to Andrew, thinking he probably did it just to be an asshole
Andrew says it was Kevin’s fault
He thinks it’s true
If Kevin hadn’t been showboating so much, Andrew wouldn’t have gotten pissed off and slammed Aaron’s racquet against the court wall
Aaron is still sure Andrew just broke it to be an asshole because why would Andrew even be near his racquets anyways?
He knows trying to reason with Andrew is hopeless though, so he glares at Andrew, then grabs his other practice racquet
Neil, Kevin, and Andrew don’t breathe a word about Andrew practicing a position he’ll never play
243 notes · View notes
nickireadstfc · 7 years
Text
The Raven King, Chapter 11 – WHAT THE FUCK
In which Thanksgiving happens.
Sounds good? No, it doesn’t. But it’s time for Nicki to read The Raven King.
I was not Ready.
I was a sweet, sweet summer child.
WHAT THE SHIT JUST HAPPENED.
I WAS NOT THE FUCK READY.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
IT’S BEEN FOUR HOURS SINCE READING AND I STILL CAN’T FUCKING D E A L WITH THIS.
Alright. Hold up, hold up.
I will get to the absolute FUCKERY that is this TRAINWRECK OF A CHAPTER in a minute.
But first – shopping.
           Kevin stopped sniping about the road trip when he realized he could get something out of it.
They go to Exites, which is kind of dream candy land for people with Exy boners, to get Neil a few new racquets, just because they can.
To be honest, I skimmed through most of this bit in order to get to the fuckery that was promised to me at Nicky’s house.
TLDR; Kevin is buying Neil heavier racquets in order to fulfil his quest of becoming Surpreme Exy Master. What else is new.
Also, how do you pronounce “Exites”? Exits? Exit-ee-s? Exités? Wtf is this word.
There’s one bit that got my attention, though: A prime fucking Andreil Moment for the books, right there in between the racks of Exy racquets – how fitting, considering the Hot Bod Meets Racquet Incident from when they met.
           “Here’s a real question: how have you survived this long when you’re so violently self-destructive?”
Hooo boy, it’s Real Talk Time.
           He wondered why no one else had caught on, or if people noticed and just didn’t care enough to say it. (…) The focus was on what a danger he was. People talked about his trial and how it saved them from Andrew. No one said what they were doing to save Andrew from himself.
But Neil :’)))))))) noticed :’)))))))) and cares :’)))))))))) ma BOYS
           “When they finally take your medicine away, who are you going to hurt, really?”
           Andrew laughed. “I’m remembering why I don’t like you.”
           “I’m surprised you forgot.”
           “I didn’t,” Andrew said. “I just got distracted for a moment there.”
Mhmm, distracted by what exactly, mon ami.
           Andrew put a hand over Neil’s mouth to shut him up and said, “Liar. But that’s what makes you interesting. It’s also what makes you dangerous. I should know better by now. Maybe I’m not as smart as I thought I was. Should I be disappointed or amused?”
Seriously, all later drama aside, let’s not forget what a fucking Andreil chapter this is. Like. AM I READING THIS SHIT WITH MY OWN TWO EYES.
           The answer was there, right out of reach, close enough Neil could feel it, but too far for him to make sense of. Maybe Andrew felt it too, because even in his drugged haze he knew to shut up. The smile he flashed Neil mocked them both at that near-miss.
For real AM I HALLUCINATING THIS TO GIVE ME SOMETHING NICE TO MAKE UP FOR MY INEVITABLE BREAKDOWN LATER OR???
And then Kevin and Important Exy Business comes in to ruin the moment. Shame.
They get Neil’s racquets, they pay about the price of a nice sports car for them (“If Coach has a problem with the number he can take it up with me, but he should know how expensive I am by now.”, jfc Kevin chill it with the Extra will you), and then they are finally going to the Hemmick’s place.
           From the outside, the house looked perfect. The lawn and vibrant green and neatly trimmed, the cars in the driveway were new and clean, and the house was a pale blue with dark shutters.
Meaning: There are at least three bodies hidden in our basement.
           Andrew gave [the racquet] an experimental twirl, judging the weight of it, then propped it against his shoulder and started for the other cars. (…)
           “He’s got a really shiny car for a minister,” Andrew said. “I’m going to humble it.”
Bahahaha. I actually had to laugh at that. Please do.
Nicky does not agree with me, however, and takes the racquet from him, leaving it in the entrance hall of his parents’ house.
Speaking of: PARENTS.
Nicky’s mum can’t even tell her own nephews apart, which is just honestly a great fucking start.
           “Hello, Maria. How very, very nice to see you again, I’m sure. Very interesting, you letting us back in your house and all. I thought you were going to file a restraining order against me. What happened, did you lose your nerve?”
For some reason, I dislike Andrew’s sass as much as I like Neil’s. His drugged sass, that is – nothing against a good Minyard one-liner. But I still find his mock-cheery, vicious friendliness more uncomfortable and at times even annoying than anything else.
And Nicky’s dad?
About as cool a dude as an uptight bigoted Christian minister can get.
Which is to say - not fucking cool.
           Even across the room Neil could see the tense set to his shoulders (…) Neil hoped that Luther was uncomfortable because he intended to relax old prejudices.
I will bet you literally any amount that he fucking does not.
           “Are you religious?”
           “No,” Neil said. (…)
           “Why not?”
           “I’d rather not get into it,” Neil said. “I don’t want to start a fight.”
           “That’s a first,” Andrew said with a laugh.
I was about so say the same damn thing. Like – Neil “Attitude Problem” Josten, Neil “Attitude Problem” Josten, Neil “Attitude Problem” Josten – doesn’t want to start a fight?
It follows the most awkward meal I’ve encountered in a long time – polite conversation, forced as shit, with pauses in between and exactly no one enjoying themselves.
Then –
           “You’re going back to Germany?” Maria shot her husband a startled look.
           Nicky’s jaw tightened, but he looked his mother in the eye when he said, “Yes. Erik’s career is there. I wouldn’t ask him to leave just for me, and I wouldn’t want him to, anyway. I loved living in Germany. It’s an amazing place. You should visit us sometime.”
Nicky my boy I am so proud of you. I am seriously so proud right in this very moment.
Looking your mom, who has basically kicked you out for being who you are, right in the eye and refusing to be anything other than who you are takes serious, serious guts. <3
           “We cannot condone sin,” Maria said.
           “You don’t have to love the sin,” Nicky said, “but you’re supposed to forgive and love the sinner. Isn’t that what faith is about?”
           “Faith is about following our Lord’s creed,” Luther said.
My eyes are rolling so far back in my skull they actually hurt.
WHY ARE YOU PEOPLE LIKE THIS.
           “We have committed to repairing this family.” (…)
           “Enlighten us,” Andrew said. (…) “If the first step isn’t tolerance, where does a pair of bigots begin in fixing a mess like this?”
           Luther met Andrew’s stare with a calm one of his own. “With reparations for past mistakes. That is why you are here.”
With these cryptic words, Luther and Andrew disappear into the kitchen after dinner for some Fun Talk Times, of which we hear exactly nothing. Then, Luther comes back – Andrew doesn’t.
And when Neil inquires after what’s taking Andrew so long – that is when I start understanding why everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE, has warned me about this chapter.
           “In fact, I think it’s promising he has been gone this long. He’ll come back when he’s finished speaking with Drake.”
           Neil’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”
SAME, NEIL.
FUCKING WHAT.
Tumblr media
           “This dinner was not originally our idea,” Luther said. “One of Andrew’s former foster brothers came to us for help. They parted on unfriendly terms years ago, and it’s been so long since they last spoke he’s afraid their relationship is irreparably damaged. It made us think of our own familial problems and we were inspired to reach out again.”
This was the moment I started gripping my book so tight I almost ripped it, and did not let go until the chapter was over.
Neil gets his massive racquet, gets Aaron, and gets the fuck up the stairs to find Andrew.
And Andrew he finds.
I’m not quoting anything graphic here because we all fucking know what happens and I don’t wanna make anyone read that again but WHAT THE FUCK.
WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCVK
At first I’d just thought they’d had a fight, shared a few punches, and then it HIT ME and I was SCREAMING, I HAVE NOT STOPPED SCREAMING FOR FOUR HOURS NOW WHAT THE F U C K.
And if all that wasn’t enough –
           Neil saw too much blood and too much skin. He knew what he was seeing, knew what this meant, but couldn’t believe it yet. That didn’t stop him from leaping at Drake.
           Aaron was faster.
AARON. FUCKING AARON.
WHAT ARE YOU THE FUCK DOING WHAT HAVE YOU DONE OH MY G O D.
THIS BOOK JUST WENT FROM ‘EDGY AND ANGSTY WITH A DASH OF IMPLIED VIOLENCE’ TO ‘ACTUALLY ILLEGALY VIOLENT AS IN FUCKING M U R D E R’ IN THE SPAN OF THREE PAGES.
WHAT
THE
FUCK
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
          Andrew wore only his shirt as he lay facedown on the mattress. He was covered in blood and a hundred shadows that would darken to terrible bruises. He held onto the headboard like he was glued to it, and he was laughing.
Cue the moment my heart fucking broke.
           “Got quiet all of a sudden,” Andrew said, sounding surprised. (…) “Oh, oh, that’s unpleasant. I am not a fan of this at all.” (…) Andrew’s grin was wide and savage as he mocked his own pain.
Andrew. Andrew. ANDREW.
I cannot even put my feelings into words, just – ANDREW.
           The strangled noise Aaron made was his best attempt at Andrew’s name. Andrew, who’d barely acknowledged Aaron’s existence in the entire time Neil had known them, looked immediately to his brother. (…)
           “Andrew,” Aaron said, desperate and frightened. He held onto Andrew like he thought Andrew would disappear if he let go.
AARON. Andrew. Aaron. AARON AND ANDREW.
This is the first time I see them as brothers, not just as two people who happen to look the same. They didn’t even look the same in my head before.
Now they do, and I can picture them clear as day, sitting on a blood-splattered bed, two identical small blonde figures clinging onto each other as if their lives depend on it.
Don’t ask me if I am fucking okay. Don’t.
           Andrew touched Aaron’s temple where he himself was injured as if he expected to find an identical injury there. “Did he touch you?”
HOW IS THAT YOUR MAIN PRIORITY RIGHT NOW.
I have a very, very clear idea of how that is his main priority right now. And I am NOT FCUKING LIKING IT WHAT THE SHITS.
Oh, look – the rest of the family is here.
You know what’s also here?
The fucking pinpoint moment I start going from ‘I guess I like Andrew he has cool moments and he’s an interesting character’ to ‘I LOVE THIS MURDER MANIAC KITTEN MORE THAN MYSELF AND I WANT TO PROTECT HIM ALWAYS’
           “Don’t ask what. You know better. (…) Or do you still think this is a big misunderstanding? Go on, tell me again how I’m too unbalanced to understand normal brotherly love and affection. Tell me this is natural.”
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME.
IS THAT WHAT HAPPENED, PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE FUCKING KIDDING ME, WHAT THE FUCK.
           “Speaking of misunderstandings, am I remembering this wrong, or didn’t you promise me you would talk to Cass? You told me she wasn’t going to foster any more children after me, but apparently she’s had six more since I left juvie. (…) How many do you think were in her house when Drake was home between deployments?”
NO
NO FUCK NO, IS THIS FOR REAL WHAT!!!!!!!!! THE SHIT!!!!!!!!!!
           “Now you let him into your house,” Andrew said. “You put him under the same roof as your son, as my brother. After everything I did to keep them away from each other?”
This is decidedly NOT GOING INTO A DIRECTION I’M LIKING.
They didn’t know. They didn’t know about all this shit, nobody knew, this has happened so many times before, and nobody knew, and the only person who did know, the only person Andrew opened up to, told him he had misunderstood being raped.
I am going to be fucking sick.
           Andrew peeled his armbands off one at a time and dropped them into Neil’s lap.
           He said something, but Neil didn’t hear him. The pale shade of scarred skin was too familiar and too startling for him not to react.
Sorry to disappoint – I’d love to be all shocked about this, except I’ve seen a billion pieces of fanart with his scars, and I also kinda had the idea myself already.
Not shocked does not mean not emotional, however. ANDREW.
A N D R E W.
The chapter is over. They’re waiting for the police and the ambulance, and the chapter is done, and I had to stuff my arm into my mouth so many times to keep me from screaming.
I have never loved Andrew more than in this very minute. Never. I am now sold on this character.
He could probably bench-press me with his attitude alone and definitely does not need my protection, but I will still protect the absolute everloving fuck out of him.
I need a moment. Or fifty.
Nicki out.
167 notes · View notes
c-valentino · 7 years
Text
Splashes Of Paint
Fandom: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Rating: T
Characters:
Kevin Day, Betsy Dobson, Riko Moriyama, Andrew Minyard, Aaron Minyard
Warnings:
past abuse, anxiety
Summery:
After joining the Foxes Kevin has a hard time to adapt. Bee suggest painting as an creative outlet for his restless energy. Reluctantly, Kevin picks up the brush to fill the gap until he can join his new team. His paintings get a little more attention than he had intended... 
A three part story about Kevin as an artist, Andrew as his keeper, and Riko as an unexpected visitor and shadow from the past... 
Chapter One - Old Sheets of Paper
“Do you like History, Kevin?” The striker looks up, pulled out of his memories, back into reality. He is sitting in Bee’s office. It’s their third session together. In front of her lie his old school records, provided by Edgar Allan for his transfer. History? Oh… academics.
“I suppose.” He can’t find the energy to get enthusiastic these days, though his resources of nervous, restless energy seems to be endless, his anxiety levels rising, and his frustration limitless. His left hand is trapped in a cast, has become a useless, foreign thing attached to his body. My body is a temple, my body an instrument, my body is a weapon… —well, not anymore.
“I read your essay on the great conquerors and their desire to leave their mark humanities collective memory. Quite inspiring, well written too, but your teacher… a Mr. Collin? Dr. Collins —he didn’t share my opinion, it seems.” Dr. Collins has been his History teacher at Edgar Allan. Kevin believes Collins hates everyone among the living, but is wildly fascinated by old, dusty tomes and artifacts. How annoyed he had been when a young, bright-eyed student came into his office one day to get some advise on his new assignment. Outside his teacher’s office hours —the audacity of the young man! A B minus had been no reason to file a complaint, even though his essay deserved better.
“He and I didn’t have a great start,” Kevin shrugs. Subjects like History never had great importance at Edgar Allan. He fidgets in his seat, his right leg bouncing up and down in an endless rhythm. He notices but can’t help it. He wants to go out and play Exy. Kevin misses the feeling of his racquet in his hands, the familiar weight of it. Will I even be able to hold it again, he wonders, a shadow falling over his pale features.
“Well, maybe you will get along better with your new teacher,” Bee says and smiles kindly.
“Maybe,” he replies vaguely. Doesn’t matter, he thinks. How long has it been since his last time on the court? He can’t bear to think about it, but he needs to know. His skills are getting dull. All those endless hours of drills and training —all going to waste. How many hours will he need to put in to catch up again? Could he cut back on studying and sleep to get some extra hours of practice in each day? Eight hours of sleep had been mandatory at Edgar Allan, even though reality always looked a little differently. He can survive on less sleep, Kevin supposes. In the beginning, he could cut back to four hours of sleep each night; at least until he gets back into shape and can hold his own against the new team again. The Foxes… what a bunch of misfits. One problem kid after another. No, not kids… not anymore.
“I like these,” Bee pulls him back up again, and Kevin blinks a few times, frowns at the pictures she is holding in her hands. He cringes. Why did they include these? His old drawings. Why would his old Art classes matter?
“Yeah? Thanks.” He means it in a ‘oh thank you, can you put these away now?’ kind of way, forces a smile.
“They are good. You have an eye for detail.” She looks at another one, a pencil sketch, and then another —a still life of an Exy ball and a glove of all things. Kevin feels the embarrassment, but it’s not enough to make him blush, it only makes him stiffen and fidget some more. “Have you thought about what you want to do in the meantime until you are cleared for practice again?” She meets his eyes, still smiling her kind smile. He sighs and looks away first, out of the window. His mind comes up blank.
“Study, I suppose,” he answers lamely. “Catch up with some school stuff.”
“Do you need to catch up in any of your subjects? Edgar Allan provides a solid education, does it not?” Yes, it does. It forces all required skills and every bit of relevant knowledge onto its students in a very harsh, uncompromising, yet dull form of education. Repetition, repetition, repetition… Repetitio est mater studiorum, is written on the wall of the main entrance hall. Repetita iuvant has been one of his Math teacher’s favorite lines. Kevin just shrugs again. He will watch the team train and act as their assistant coach, torturing himself in the process. He won’t need to supervise them off the court though. They sure as hell won’t let him.
“I believe you need some kind of creative outlet for all that energy,” she says and looks pointedly at his bouncing leg. He sits up straighter and forces himself to stop. “Have you thought about painting?” Painting? Is this a joke? He can’t even hold a pencil right now. It has taken him way too long to convince his right hand to produce a legible version of his hasty handwriting. He still can’t reproduce his own signature. Although the experience of writing with his right instead of his left hand has been a little eye-opening, in a somewhat of an ‘oh, I never thought about that’ kind of way. It is somehow strange to be able to rest his hand or wrist on the paper without smudging the letters, to be able to see what he is writing without obscuring it with his own hand. He can’t share these thoughts though, they are so obvious and mundane.
But painting? He is not an artist. He is an athlete. They have told him to take it easy for a while. Some words like trauma and abuse and PTSD have been mentioned and made his skin crawl. The last thing Kevin wants is to drag all his years at Edgar Allan into the open and talk about them. I played Exy for the best team in Class I Exy in the US. End of story. —‘My something-like-a-brother broke my hand and I ran away’ doesn’t fit into that story. If Bee had told him to write a book or something, he could understand her intentions. A neat little insight into his past. But painting…
“I’m not a painter.”
“You don’t need to be. There is no pressure, maybe you’ll like it. Why don’t you give it a try. I can get you all you need to get started,” she encourages.
“Yeah? Like —is this some sort of therapeutic —stuff,” he almost said bullshit, “to get over trauma or something? Because I don’t need that.”
“I think you do though.” His anxiety attacks. She knows about them. Maybe even Andrew tells her about them. The goalkeeper sees the team’s therapist on a regular basis and he has seen Kevin at his worst. “Just give it a try. That’s all I’m asking. Can it hurt? We can always look for an alternative.” He just wants to get out of here.
“Fine,” he agrees. And that is that.
                                                                                                     next>>
23 notes · View notes