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codename-adler · 3 years

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foxes + onesies (8/9)

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!

Aaron

TW: mentions of hospitalization and drugs, implications of abuse, mental illness and murder

Aaron tries very hard

that phrase alone could very well sum up his existence

he tries to be a good student

he tries to be a good backliner

he tries to be a good teammate

he tries to be a good person

he tries to be a go- he tries to be a brother

he tries so, so hard

but life is harder

he’d tried being a good son, and failed

his mother was dead, and died hating him

he’d tried being a good boyfriend, and failed

Katelyn was gone, and left him crying

so Aaron was trying, and now?

he was trying to find himself, to grow, to heal…

which was very, very difficult when in counselling sessions with your just-as-traumatized twin brother

they’d both worked through Andrew and Neil’s non-relationship, and through Aaron and Katelyn’s fallout

Aaron had expected it to be the other way around

turns out that while he thought Katelyn deserved better, she thought he deserved better too

she had her own demons to deal with too, in the end

and so while everyone pretty much expected Aaron’s demons to be too big for Katelyn, it was hers that had been too much for the both of them

he couldn’t reach her, couldn’t get through to her, couldn’t help her

one fateful night, she had asked him, sobbing and breathless, to make the call

the call to take her away, the call to save her from herself

the paramedics had put her on a gurney, and they had said their goodbyes

I’m sorry Aaron… I’m so sorry, I wanted to be strong for you… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m so scared… It hurts so much, Aaron… I’m sorry… Please take care of yourself, baby, please… I’m sorry…

she was wheeled away, and hadn’t seen her in a year since

they corresponded, though

4 months into her admission at a private psychiatric hospital, she had sent him a handwritten letter

she had told him about her routine, her new friendships, her therapists…

she’d told him about the work she was doing on herself, about the traumas she had been too ashamed to share with him…

after the fifth or sixth letter, Aaron had started responding

he never told anyone

until this week

he’d lost count of how many letters he’d received from her, and how many he’d sent her back

but this letter…

this one was different

this one broke his heart so much, that he walked out of his dorm, the letter still clutched in one hand, grabbed Andrew on his way out of Fox Tower, and made him drive to Betsy’s office

without a single word

Betsy was surprised, to say the least, to see Aaron entering first, distress in his eyes, and Andrew following close behind, clueless

Aaron handed Betsy the letter, sat down, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, eyes closed

Bee: Correct me if I’m wrong, Aaron, but from what I understand of the situation, you would like to share this with Andrew?

Aaron: And with you. Bee.

Bee: That is very generous of you Aaron. And brave. Would you like me to read the letter out loud?

Aaron nodded, never looking up

My dear Aaron,

What I’m about to tell you in this letter is very different from our usual correspondence. You know I’ve been working on things since the beginning of my hospitalization. Big things. Ugly things. But important things. And you are not a thing, Aaron, but you are important. You were forced to play a role in the mess that was my life, but that role saved me. From myself. You made the tough call, you took it upon yourself to protect me, even if it meant putting me away and losing me. Losing us.

I’m not so good with spoken words, and I feel safe here, in this bubble we’ve created for ourselves. But I would like you to believe me when I say that the words I’m about to tell you, I would repeat them to you outloud for the rest of my life if it could make amends for what I’ve put you through. One word from you and I would come in person to tell you how much I mean them.

I am grateful for you, Aaron Minyard.

I am eternally thankful that you have crossed the path of my life. You have helped me in more ways than you know, in more ways that I could possibly imagine. It’s so important that you know that, Aaron. It’s important to me, because you deserve to know, and you deserve the recognition. Because I know you don’t think much of yourself. Because I know you think this was all your fault. Because I know you, a little bit, at least. You did the best you could with what you had, and it was enough, Aaron. You cared for me when you didn’t have to, when you couldn’t, when you were going through it yourself, and I can’t thank you enough. But I can try. So here it is: Thank you, Aaron. Thank you. For everything. You were amazing.

However, there is another thing I need to say. A harder thing. But I must take responsibility for my actions, for both my sake and yours. You need to know. You need to know.

I am sorry, Aaron. I am sorry that you had to make that call. I am sorry that you had to witness my breakdown. I am sorry that I had to leave like that. I am sorry that I broke your heart. I am sorry for all the pain and hardship I’ve put you through. I am sorry for all the times I’ve lashed out at you, when really I wanted to lash out at my life. I am sorry for all the times I hurt you, when really I wanted to hurt myself. I am sorry that you had to watch me fall like that. I am sorry that you had to pick up the pieces alone, that you had to get back up alone. I am sorry for all the times I’ve said cruel things just to be mean and to hurt you, for all the grief I’ve caused you, all of it. This is my official, explicit, conscious and honest apology to you. I’m apologizing for all the wrongs I’ve done you, because it was my fault and you didn’t deserve any of it. I take full responsibility. And I am not expecting forgiveness in return. This is a no-strings-attached apology. I could apologize to you forever and still not be worthy of your forgiveness. So I won’t be waiting for it. I won’t be begging for it. This is all yours. I’m sorry, Aaron. I need you to know that. Because I know you think you deserve what happened, because I know you think it was all your fault. It wasn’t. It was mine. It is still mine. And know that I am not only apologizing in words. I will try everything in my power to make it up to you. Whatever it takes. I promise you that, Aaron.

Love,

Katelyn

as Betsy folded the letter, Aaron’s tears dripped down on the office carpet

Andrew was silent, eyes fixed on the piece of paper

Betsy waited a few minutes to let everyone soak in the moment

Bee: This is a very beautiful and heartfelt letter, Aaron. From what I understand, you and Katelyn have been writing letters since she “moved”?

Aaron nodded, still silently crying in his hands

Bee: Are your exchanges always like this?

Aaron shook his head

Bee: Okay, I see. Is this the first time a letter from her has made you cry?

another nod from Aaron

Bee: And why do you think that is?

Aaron: I don’t know…

his voice was rough from crying

Bee: Well, I think I might have an inkling, you tell me if it resonates with you. I believe, Aaron, that this is the first time someone has ever formally apologized to you, yeah? You are not someone that has grown up with that kind of care, that kind of responsibility. That kind of praise. I think you know that this is some kind of opportunity for closure, of course, but it goes deeper than that, doesn’t it? Someone cares for the wrongs they’ve done, for the hurt they’ve caused you. And you are not used to that. You are not used to being apologized to. You are not used to this type of kindness. Katelyn did not have to apologize and express her gratefulness. You didn’t expect her to. But she did. That means something to you, yeah?

Aaron’s heart broke a little more at that, before mending a little, too

he cried harder

and Andrew was watching all of this from his seat, seemingly unconcerned

he knew this wasn’t necessarily about him, that this was about Katelyn, and Aaron, and about showing Andrew that she didn’t deserve his hatred and his knives

but he did care

after he drove Aaron back to the dorms and told Kevin to watch his brother, he went for a drive

to think

he only came back once he had thought of something to do with Aaron

damn Josten for softening him

he threw Neil and Nicky out of their dorm, and went to retrieve the Stitch onesie from the back of his closet

he looked for the brand tag, looked it up online and made his purchase

he even paid for accelerated shipping

the day his order arrived, he went to the same convenience store where he’d found his precious DVD, and bought a stupid ugly postcard with a lighthouse on it

in a very neat handwriting, Andrew wrote what he had to say

he then went looking for his brother, but he didn’t have to look far

since that session with Bee, where Kevin was, Aaron usually was too

and Kevin was always at the court

but Andrew found them both sitting on the court’s floor, all geared up, yet watching something non Exy-related on Kevin’s phone

weird

that didn’t stop Andrew

he went back to the locker room, refusing to disturb the weird little thing that was going on there

he left the package and the postcard in Aaron’s locker, and left

a few hours later, as Kevin went to shower and Aaron opened his locker, Andrew’s gift was found

the postcard had slipped to the back of the locker, so Aaron retrieved the plastic bag and opened it first

he didn’t understand

it was a big, fluffy thing, bright yellow

what the fuck

it’s Pikachu

it’s a Pikachu onesie

it’s a fucking Pikachu onesie

what the fuck

he hadn’t thought about Pokemons since… well, since Tilda died

he had collected them, the cards, and the figurines

but he’d sold the toys for drug money

and he’d lost all his cards in the… accident

he’d left his three hundred-something card collection in the car, for some reason he couldn’t remember

but the crash had burnt and bloodied them all

when Nicky had adopted the twins, he had bought Aaron some new ones, but it didn’t compare… it couldn’t replace what he had lost

and now he was holding an adult-sized Pikachu one-piece pajama

he still couldn’t wrap his head around it when he found the postcard peeking from the back of his locker

he took it, his hand trembling terribly

he read the back

later, Kevin found Aaron sitting on the bench, still in his Exy uniform, smiling but crying

He’s so fucking stupid, Kevin, look at this shit

Kevin looked, indeed, at this shit

Kevin didn’t understand what he was looking at, but then Aaron handed him the postcard

Aaaron hadn’t told this story to anyone but Kevin, so he understood immediately what it said, and who wrote it

Kevin placed his big hand on the back of Aaron’s neck and squeezed a bit, an offer of comfort

he still didn’t understand what the yellow monstrosity was supposed to be, but he understood what it all meant

Aaron held the card closer to his heart than the onesie

everytime things became hard with Andrew, he wore Pikachu and he looked at the postcard

he focused on the little lighthouse, on the small, precise letters, on the ink of the pen

he focused on the words

Sorry I trashed your Pokemon cards

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91percentpynch · 3 years

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if the world was ending - kevaaron au pt 6

we‘re slowly getting our happy ending i think? anyways shout out to the guys who sticked around ever since part one and encouraged me to publish the parts!! hope you enjoy this one as well! stay hydrated, eat something, feel hugged (or take a finger heart if you don‘t like physical contact) and know that i love you!! also this one‘s out of aaron‘s pov!!

the song of this part is if the world was ending by julia michaels and jp saxe

check this out for part 1-5

Aaron only planned to get to his dealer that night, just wanted the voices to stop, just wanted the feeling of numbness again

What he didn‘t want was landing in the hospital, but when did anything ever work out the way he wanted?

So when he was on the way to his dealer, tears clouding his vision, he didn‘t see the stop sign. He didn‘t notice the truck. And that was how a truck landed in the passenger side of his car, Aaron losing consciousness and somehow waking up in the ER of Chicago Hospital

„We called your emergency contact, they said they would come as soon as possible honey“, a nurse told him.

What they apparently did not know was that his emergency contact was Nicky, who left him for Germany.

Aaron wasn‘t mad. He got it. Nicky gave up so much for him and Andrew, never getting the love he deserved, he did his best.

Plus Nicky would probably call Andrew his way so he wasn‘t alone until he got the first possible flight to sit by his side for a few days before returning to his picture book perfect family.

Aaron wasn‘t mad. He really wasn‘t. He just missed his cousin. The only constant in his life, the only good part in his family.

Having a twin brother is pretty nice as well - in theory as well. Until said twin brother refuses to talk to you. Until said twin brother chooses his stupid boyfriend over you. Until you realize said twin brother doesn‘t care about you.

But Aaron couldn‘t blame him. He wasn‘t interesting enough for anyone to care about.

Aaron slipped in and out of consciousness

„I can‘t get morphime, I‘m an addict“, he said in one of his moments of consciousness. Not that he would particulary mind getting morphime, he wanted to get high after all, but Kevin‘s stupid little voice wouldn‘t let him go. „Why do you only call me when you‘re high Aaron?“, Kevin‘s face when he came to see him earlier, the day they decided to go to rehab together as friends and it ended up as them falling in love

„That‘s alright honey, we got you“, the nurse replied.

The next time Aaron woke up after that was in a white room, alone in an uncomfortable bed. Alone with his thoughts because Nicky wouldn‘t be here for at least another day. His brother was somewhere with Josten. The only person he really wanted to see refused to talk to him. Which is understandable to be fair.

Taylor, fuck he needed to tell her where he was.

Aaron was just about to look for his phone when someone kicked his door open, hurriedly crossing the room to be close to him.

Slowly Aaron raised his eyes, looking who it was. Kevin fucking Day was in his fucking room.

„You fucking idiot, what have you done?“, Kevin was close to tears, for whatever reason. Obviously not for Aaron, right?

„I don‘t need your fucking pity“, Aaron replied, shutting himself down, it was safer that way.

„Did you tell them you can‘t have morphine? Because you might relapse, i mean you already did but we don‘t want it to get worse. And this is not pity, this is Nicky yelling at me in Spanish cause you‘re in the hospital and he‘s in Germany and I‘m the closest to you and he does not want his son to be alone“, Day ever so unimpressed by Aaron‘s walls replied.

Nicky worrying about Aaron that much made the blonde feel warm inside, important, loved.

Nonetheless Aaron couldn‘t stop thinking about the person that didn‘t care to show up.

„Andrew didn‘t care to come, did he?“, Aaron‘s voice was barely audible as he hid his face in his pillow, in case those traitous tears made their way down his cheeks.

„Andrw does care about you, he‘s just shit at showing it, that fucking asshole“, Kevin replied in a soft voice, Irish accent slightly audible, the voice he used when he‘s about to be emotional or scared or mad or overall feeling strongly. „C‘mon what have you done Minyard?“

Was that worry in his voice? Could it be that he actually cared? No, no that couldn‘t be. Not when refused to talk to him.

„Car accident, not that its any of your fucking business“, Aaron replied, trying his hardest to sound as if he didn‘t care that Kevin was there with him, trying to push Kevin away, to protect his heart from another rejection.

„How are you?“, Kevin said, his Irish accent becoming a little stronger, voice thick with worry. Worry? Why would he worry about Aaron?

„Fucking great, I should let a truck drive into me more often. Very freeing. Very calming“, Aaron answered sarcastically, looking anywhere but Kevin‘s smaragd green eyes, maybe even the green of the lake they used to go in rehab, in the fluroscent light of the hospital.

„A truck. Drove into you?“, the Irish accent was now so strong Aaron could barely make out the words.

Aaron couldn‘t take it anymore, he turned around. Maybe Kevin would take the hint that he wasn‘t able to be close to him, not without being hurt, not without feeling empty. „Not that you would care“, he said, voice barely more than a breath against the pillow.

„Aaron first of all I can see you naked ass and not that I wouldn‘t mind the view and I‘ve seen it often enough but the nurses don‘t have to see that too. And secondly of course I care. I always did. Always will“

Something about Kevin mentioning Aaron‘s naked ass made the blonde boy blush as he turned back towards Kevin. Aaron didn‘t even notice that those strangers undressed him. That made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

„Why wouldn‘t you listen to me if you care so much? You‘re exactly like like Andrew, you guys only ever care when I‘m about to die or do something that doesn‘t sit right with you. Never about me as a person. The conecept about me maybe, but me? Me as a person? No one cares about that“, Aaron replied to the earlier statement, because he wanted to hurt Kevin, wanted the other boy to leave him just like the rest, just like he deserved. Aaron didn‘t need empty promises and lies - God know he had enough of those in his miserable life. Aaron didn‘t need pity or words of comfort or kindness. Aaron didn‘t need Kevin Day. Unless he did.

„You are Aaron Minyard. Born on the 4th of November, 8:31:45 am. You grew up in California in the house next to Nicky. Nicky and you were always close and you didn‘t have many friends because of your mom. Your mom might have abused her and I might hate her for that but you still love her and I get that because on some fucked up level I still care about Riko. You are allergic to cats, peanuts and house dust. You have a freckle right on your right hip, under your navel, from under your left eye over to the nose to the corner of your right eye. You like it when you are hold when you can‘t sleep but you hate showing affection in public. You were 13 when you started exy, because it gave you an escape, but you had to stop because the bruises from your mother‘s beating got to obvious. So you started getting into medicine. You borrowed every single book on medicine you could find and read it at night, always hidden from your mom. You had to have straight As or the beatings would be worse. Your mom did go out to have ice cream with you when it was especially bad. That‘s why you hate ice cream so much, especially vanillia because it was her favourite. Your secret hobby is skating. You feel free when you do it. You want to live at the coast, but not close to Cali, never back to Cali. You want Andrew to notice you and you hate how easily he let Neil in because obviously deserve it more and I get that. You tried drugs to escape, to see what was the appeal. Your uncle never helped you but he brainwashed you into believing he did. You grew up very religous and in an extraordinary homophobic household, you watched your cousin and only friend getting shipped away because he was different, not right, so you confinced yourself you were different. Heterosexual. When in reality you knew since you were 15 that you preferred guys. You liked girls as well. At least you thought but it‘s so much more complicated. Actually it isn‘t. You‘re asexual, you do however like the feeling of sex. You think the process is disgusting, but you still like the feeling. It has to be the right person though. It doesn‘t matter wether it‘s a boy or a girl or something else entierly, all that matters are the feelings the person makes you feel. It took you years to accept that you are not wrong, that you wouldn‘t have to go away like Nicky. You apologized to Nicky. You thought you had to be against their relationships, because that‘s what they made you believe. Old habits die hard. But you got over it and I am very proud of you. You sleep with a teddybear or with another person that cuddles you because the thought of being alone scares the living crap out of you. Your favourite flowers are sunflowers because yellow is a happy color. You hate sweets, you prefer salty snacks. You prefer coffee black, like your sould. You use sarcasm and humor as your coping mechanism. You stole my history books because you love history as well. You also love art but you don‘t think you are good enought to become an artist. You would love to work at Jean‘s studio but you are afraid to ask. You and Jean used to be friends but you cut him off and isolated yourself because your anxities and insecurities took over you again. Sometimes you have depressive episodes, in these you crave drugs more than normally. You want to stop it, you really do but somehow your brain tries to tell you you need it. You would love to have five dogs. An Irish Red Setter, an Irish Wolfhound, a poodle a big one though, a labrador and a golden retriever. You also want to adopt at least two kids. You don‘t want any child to go through what you had to go through or Andrew. So don‘t you dare tell me I never cared for you. Because I do. I listen when you tell me things. I remember every single time you came to me, black out drunk, crying and telling me you‘re worthless. Because every single time I wanted to tell you you aren‘t. You are a wonderful human being and I don‘t understand why I wasn‘t enough for you to stay but I will not let you tell me I never cared about you. Because that‘s some fucking bullshit“

Whatever Aaron expected to happen it certainly wasn‘t that. No one ever payed attention to him. No one ever listened to what he had to say. No one ever showed him that they cared about him. No one ever payed enough attention to him to see that he was worth their attention.

„You really did listen“, Aaron said, quietly, not able to put his feelings into words.

Aaron Minyared was never good with words. Causing pain with them? Yes. Sarcastic comments? Sure. But declearations of love? Or a simple thank you? Or really anything that would fit this situation? No, Aaron couldn‘t do that.

„Why wasn‘t I enough for you?“, the voice with tears, words hidden behind the strong Irish accent, was what made Aaron look up. Looking up into eyes the color of the lake they used to go to in their summer spend in the rehab clinic, tears falling down his beautiful cheeks, uncontrollable and messy.

„You? Not enough?“, Aaron whispered, eyes locked with the taller boy, „I was not enough. I was never enough. Not for my mother. Not for Katelyn. And certainly not for the Queen of Exy. I was never a good enough player, I was never a good enough student, I was never a good enough person. You deserve the best. Someone that loves Exy the way you do, someone as passionate and beautiful and strong as you. Not a burden. Not a no one like me. You deserve the sun, things that are bright and warm and beautiful. Not some broken, poor trailer trash. Not some drug addicted wannabe doctor. Some who can give you the love you need. Not someone struggeling to accept themselves. Not someon who can‘t even look at themselves accepting that they fell heads over heels in love with a man, struggeling to accept that, thinking someone will come and beat the shit out of them because it‘s the only thing you know. I don‘t understand the yearning, I don‘t understand the wanting, I don‘t understand the pain your absence causes me. Because I was never loved. Not properly. I mean sure I know Nicky loves me, but that‘s different. You deserves someone who‘s not too fucked up to be able to show love, not someone so fucked up they don‘t even understand the concept of love. You deserve somoene who can give you things. I can‘t offer you anything. Nothing. Nothing but a heart screaming your name. Nothing but a mind you reign. And I am so fucking sorry I ever left you without saying goodbye. I am so fucking sorry for being a coward. It was never because I stopped loving you. In the contrast. It was because there was not a single day where I thought I was good enough for you. There was not a single day the little voice in my head would shut up about how you are way to fucking good for me. You deserve so much more than I can offer you. So much more“, Aaron‘s voice broke at the last more.

„This was never your choice to make. I am a grown up fucked up man, I can decide who I can and will love very good on my own and I know you never wanted to hear it. But I chose you. I‘ve been falling in love with you ever since I met you. Started with a cute little crush. Ended up here“, Kevin said coming closer and closer to Aaron. „You talk about being so fucked up, well guess what? So am I. I am sick and tired of being seen as the Queen of Exy, of being reduced to Exy and my past alcohol problem. It‘s like I am nothing but the stick in my hand. I am nothing but the sport my mother invented. I am not even a human being anymore. At least that was what I was told. Until I met you. You and your stupid sarcatic remarks. The thougt of you seeing me was enough for me to keep trying to impress you somehow, make you see something worth keeping. But it was never enough. It would never be enough for someone to stay“

„Kevin Day. Born on the 22nd February 1986. Excuse me I don‘t know the exact time but about 7:15 pm. Your favourite color is red, not the Ravens red, the deep dark red of the Trojans because you associate it with Jeremy Knox and he was some kind of fucking sun in the nest. You had something with Jean in the nest. Riko that absolute fucking asshole somehow found out and tried to force you to do terrible things to Jean. But you couldn‘t do it. Not because you are weak like you like to think, no because you are kind and have heart of gold. I can‘t believe I just said that I want to vomit. Eww. Anyways you have massive self-esteem issues because you either think you‘re a walking failure or you have a god complex and there is no fucking in between and I love that about you. You have a constellation of freckles on your back and a little tattoo on your left hip. It‘s a little sun and a little moon on the right. Because you love the sun because it‘s bright and warm and you like that. The moon is far away, it‘s cold and lonely. The sun is your mother. You are the moon. Over your heart you have your mother‘s signature tatooted. Because she watches over you and unlike mine you actually can associate nice things with her. You want to move to Ireland once you retire. Because you want to be closer to your mom. You have your whole ass wedding planned already, because you love planning events like that. It‘s like your fucking secret superpower. You think cows are adorable and you want to pet one so badly. You are scared of chickens and swans and ducks. You are lactose intolerant and you have sport indicated asthma. You don‘t like when other people touch your arms and your back. You like forhead kisses. You like holding hands. You like showing affection, but not in public because you‘re scared what people think of you. You pretend to be arrogant and an asshole but it‘s all just walls around yourself to protect you. Secretly you just want someone to see right through it. Unlike me you do actually paint and you love photography. I know you rented a secret little atelier. Your favourite historical period is the 20th centuriy and you are oddly obsessed with eastern european and Irish history. You love horses. You love cows. You want to do horse riding once. You try so very hard to be more than just Exy. Hyperfixations are your coping mechanism. And spontaniously buying like 10 books. You love reading. You love tea. Your favourite genere is in fact not historical fiction but fantasy fiction based on history. You love rambling about random historical facts and I loved listening to it. You love soft kisses more than the hungry ones. You hate that people want you for your body, not your personality. You hate being sexualized. You hate being an object. You hate your title. But at the same time you love it. You just want to make your mother proud. And your dad. Right now you‘re wearing your mother‘s ring around your neck. Wymack found it somewhere and gave it to you. You haven‘t put it down ever since. You want to paint your nails because you think it looks pretty but you worry too much what people would think about you. You listen to classical music. You play the violin and the piano. You learned it at Palmetto somehow. You learned it because your mother used to play the fiddle, said it made her think of Ireland somehow, and when you were sad she played you some Irish lullabies on it. You love the Irish culture. You love Ireland. And your biggest dream is to get married on one of Ireland‘s cliffs. Because the ocean calms you down. Helps your anxiety. In summer your face is covered in freckles and not only your face. Oddly. You actually love swimming. Or sitting at the water. Looking at it. You collect books. You collect stones. You collect whatever you think is beautiful. You also like collecting shells. You hate to label yourself but you always preferred boys. There are days where you feel more feminie, days where you feel more masculine and days where you feel like neither. Today is a masculine day I see. Jeremy made you braclets when you

told him you were like him. You feel terrible about leaving Jean back but you also know that it was necessary. You are strong and beautiful and I know you canno see that and I know you don‘t want to hear that. You are more than your body. You are so much more. And the only reason I was stupid enough to leave you was because I thought I was not good enough. And an unhealthy amount of internalized homophobia. I just hear my mother‘s voice inside my head when I hold your hand or kiss you and I hate that. The moment I had to sleep without you the voices grew louder and it didn‘t even take a week before I had to find a dealer. I called you when I was high because the voides were silent. I called you when I was high because admitting that I missed you and that I need you was easier than. The two to four hours I slept were filled with you. In my dreams you were with me. You kissed me. You held me in these ridicously strong hands. You were with me and the world was okay. And when I woke up and you weren‘t here I just didn‘t want to get up. My grades got worse because I wasn‘t able to concentrate without you. Yes I am able to funciton without you, it was just nice to have something good in my life once. And yes I will be able to keep it up without you. A B or C here and there won‘t hurt too much. I will probably be able to become the neurologist I want to be. I will get through life. It will just not be the same. It will just be grey and black and white. With you I had colors“

„That was hard for you to say right?“, Kevin asked, tears still silently running down his cheeks.

Aaron nooded, watching as Kevin‘s face came closer and closer until he could feel his breath against his cheeks.

He was about to ask someone as a loud knock was on the door and the door was opened rather aggressivly, making Kevin get away quickly.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king’s men #jean moreau #jeremy knox #kevin day #aaron minyard #ship: jerejean #jerejean #ship: kevaaron #kevaaron

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lanayrusea · 7 years

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aftg gift exchange!

@callron hi i’m your person! i have no idea if this is what you wanted but it’s what i wrote so i hope you like it!! i tried to focus on neil since you said you love him (i also love him), plus renison. (also: i use v minimal japanese in this but in case anyone comes for me, just kno i’ve been studying it for six years. i still make mistakes all the time though lol)

ok please enjoy!! @aftgexchange

By all accounts, it was not a game meant for winning.

It was not a death match. They were not playing a nemesis, or even a friendly rival. They were not playing anyone they knew. It was a Japanese team from Fukuoka touring the States for practice, or fun, or murder. They were one of the first official college Exy teams on record, and had sent an astonishingly high percentage of their players to the Olympics. Kevin had nearly cried when Jeremy told him they shredded USC.

Simply, they were out of the Foxes’ league.

They would have stood a chance, Neil thought, with Andrew in goal, but Andrew was currently out of commission. No one was quite sure how he’d done it, but the monster had somehow managed to contract pneumonia. He was over the worst of it and had returned from the hospital, but still refused any drugs beyond those that were absolutely necessary. Wymack nearly blew a gasket the last time Andrew opened his mouth to complain about being sick. It hadn’t been pretty.

So Andrew was on house arrest, or Fox Tower arrest. Renee had filled in seamlessly during the local scrimmages scheduled that week, but Neil could tell the team had silently come to terms with the fact that their match against Fukuoka would be, in all likelihood, a wreck.

It was not a game meant for winning.

Even so, Neil began to feel his usual nerves in the hours before the match, though there was nothing at stake other than the Foxes’ largely nonexistent dignity. The game wasn’t even going to be broadcasted. From a spectator’s perspective, Neil figured, if you were going to watch your team get slaughtered, it might as well be by another team you knew. Losing to strangers was just embarrassing. And you couldn’t say, Oh, next time. At this point, the only thing keeping the Foxes in the game at all was their determination, as always, to put up a good fight. Wymack had little to say during their pre-game meeting—mumbled something or other about pyrrhic victory—and set Dan on them instead.

“If we can do anything,” she said, “we can make them remember what it cost.”

Renee nodded and said sensibly, “When you put down a dog, the dog still bites.”

For a moment the Foxes stood frozen, then glanced around at each other, all wearing the same expression: Did she really just say that? Am I nuts?

Allison was the first to recover. “Renee, sweetest, we’ll work on your analogies. Dan, don’t worry. We’ll give ’em hell.”

“Do the Japanese have hell?” asked Nicky.

“I will box your ears,” said Kevin evenly, though the question hadn’t been directed at him.

“Do it after the match, Queen Elizabeth,” said Dan. “Okay. We all know our jobs. Renee: don’t even worry about what happens past half-court. Backliners: work extra hard. Neil: dance. Kevin—” He shot her a vicious look, but she didn’t back down. “Don’t overwork your left hand. It’s not worth it.”

Wymack made a noise of agreement. Kevin bristled but said nothing.

“If you need to get mad, get mad. Fuck it, you should already be mad—this is plain unfair. They’re three times our size. There’s no stakes in terms of our actual season, so if you need to punch someone, just make sure I don’t beat you to it.”

Appreciative laughter.

“I know our hopes aren’t high,” Dan said, “especially after hearing what they did to Kevin’s idol—”

Several people said several different things at once. Dan powered through.

“—but I still think we have a chance offensively. Defense: every pass you guys intercept, every shot you block will be a victory, and it’ll make victory against the blockheads in our league that much easier. Neil, Kevin: I want three goals each from you.”

“And?” Neil said, knowing what had to be coming.

“And,” Dan continued, “I know threats of extra drills and runs don’t scare you, you masochistic bastards, so if you don’t score enough, you’ll take turns in goal during our next scrimmage and let Renee and the monster laugh all they like.”

Neil’s jaw dropped. Nicky hooted. Wymack was grinning.

“That’s how it’s going to be?” said Kevin. He sounded riled, which, Neil realized, was probably exactly what Dan wanted.

She smiled. “That’s how it’s going to be.”

“Goddamn,” muttered Matt.

“Keep it together, Boyd,” said Allison.

Dan clapped once, and suddenly everyone was back at attention. “Alright, you heathens! I think it’s time we light this thing. We have nothing to lose, so let’s play like it. Hell—let’s make this the one game Andrew actually wishes he’d played. Renee, have I told you recently I adore you?”

“I adore you too, Dan.”

“Lovely. Coach?”

Wymack stood. “Dan Wilds, you’re a phenomenon. Strikers, that was no joke she just pulled. Three goals apiece. Get out there.”

Neil was going to have to ask Andrew about basic goalkeeping strategy.

The team from Fukuoka emerged onto the court at the same time, carrying their helmets under their arms as though to mirror the Foxes. They were called Hakuchō, the Swans. (“Their mascot is a swan? Isn’t that a little…underwhelming?” “Underwhelming? Have you ever met a swan?” “Have I ever met a swan?” “They’re vicious! They don’t give a shit whether you live or die!” “Are you implying that a swan has tried to kill you?” “Listen, those fuckers come out of nowhere.” “Are we all hearing this? Confirmation of Nicky Hemmick’s near-death-by-swan experience?” “DAN, ALLISON’S BEING MEAN TO ME!”) They looked impeccably prepared; their drills were immaculate. There was a certain quiet about them, too, the kind that came from confidence, not from lack of volume. The thought arose suddenly in Neil’s head: I want us to be that good.

He glanced at Kevin, who was grim with anticipation. Neil knew he felt the same.

Warmups went by fast. Neil listened to the Swans talk to each other, getting a feel for the easy, even sound of the Japanese language when it wasn’t coming out of the mouth of a mob boss. It was a stark contrast to all the languages he knew, which seemed to lean more heavily on consonants. Japanese sounded open-mouthed. He was listening to them rattle off calls and signals when familiar laughter caught his attention.

Neil looked around. Who—?

It was Kevin. He was a few meters from Neil, doing stretches he had made up for his left arm, but he had completely abandoned them and was now leaning on his racquet, stifling laughter. There were also two Swans nearby, looking bewildered. To Neil’s surprise, Kevin caught his breath and spoke to them.

He had completely forgotten Kevin spoke Japanese.

How did I forget something like that?

Neil was about to grab Kevin and get him away from the poor Swans, but unexpectedly, they began to laugh, too. He caught one word that sounded like English: pudding.

From near the goal, Allison said loudly, “I can’t believe it! The queen bitch is making friends!”

From near the Vixens, Aaron said, “Is he dying?”

Katelyn said, giggling, “Aaron.”

A whistle blew, and Kevin and the two Swans left for their respective sides of the court with a last grin. Neil jogged a few paces to catch up with him.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kevin said, then snickered. “God, I can’t even look at you.”

“Me?” Neil ran a self-conscious hand through his hair. The week before, he had run out of shampoo and, out of desperation, used some from an unlabeled travel bottle, discovering a split-second too late that it was old hair dye. He managed to scrub out most of it before it took, but his roots were still tinged brown. Allison had lent him some of her fancy princess shampoo in the meantime (“vegan, of course”), and now he smelled like mint and coconut. (Somehow, it didn’t exude the same kind of power on him as it did on Allison.) But he had thought the team was over teasing him about that.

“Strikers, get to your positions!”

That was Dan—she had lost the coin toss. They put on their helmets and hustled.

“It’s alright,” Neil heard Matt say. “This is still a game, folks! We can’t get discouraged.”

“Yeah,” said Nicky. “Instead, just think of how shitfaced Kevin’s going to get tonight and how funny it’ll be when he drunk dials Jeremy.”

Even Renee laughed at that one.

The whistle blew.

First half was a fiasco. Dan was ready to kill Aaron, who had maybe never cared less about the score of a game, but she stayed furiously silent during their halftime meeting. Matt was breathing hard; he had been running almost as much as the strikers. Allison had undone the numerous braids Renee used to keep her short hair out of her face and now combed her fingers through the waves of it. Renee did not speak or move the whole time, except to drink. She was conserving her energy.

Neil had scored two goals. Kevin had scored one. They were down three.

“Three,” Wymack said upon their entrance, “is not fucking bad.”

“It’s not good,” Kevin shot back.

“Whose fault is that?” said Allison.

“Everyone’s,” Matt said forcefully, before Kevin and Allison could get to each other’s throats. “That’s why it’s called a team.”

“Boyd’s right,” said Wymack. “There’s not enough incentive here. I was pessimistic before, and that was a mistake on my part, but I really think we can put a dent in these guys’ ego. There might not be any camera crews or flashing lights, but I’ve seen the reporters. They’re watching you. They’d be stupid not to.”

Aaron muttered something unintelligible. Neil and Dan glared at him.

“Look,” Wymack continued, “they’re everything we knew they’d be. They’re strong, they’re fast, there’s a fucking million of them. Defense, you’re doing great, but I need more from you. Aaron Michael Minyard, do not test me.”

Aaron scowled.

“Renee,” said Wymack, “I know you can give me more. I’ve watched you work for years now, and I can tell when you’re holding back.”

Renee allowed herself a small smile. It occurred to Neil that maybe she had been waiting for this—for the rest of her teammates to wake up.

Wymack looked around at them. “That goes for all of you. Where’s your effort? Neil, I know how fast you are. Kevin—one goal? Really?”

Kevin flushed angrily and opened his mouth.

“No!” Wymack interrupted. “Offense, you are where our win lies. Don’t just stand there looking surly. Show these assholes you’re the team that’s come out on top, time and time again. Knock them over the head with it. So what they’re incredible? They’re not expecting a challenge. And so far, you’re not giving them one.”

Neil knew he was right. Dan looked ashamed.

Wymack sighed. “You’ve played this game before, Foxes. You’ve played this exact game. How many damn times, I’ve lost count. Don’t make me start thinking you’ve gotten soft.” After a moment, he sneered. “How come no one’s thrown a punch yet?”

Allison grinned wolfishly. She was re-braiding Renee’s hair with deft, confident fingers. “Great point, Coach. Hemmick, don’t let them walk on you.”

Nicky looked startled to be addressed. “Hey, I’m a lover.”

Neil suddenly felt more awake. “No, Nicky,” he said, “she’s right. Their number four—”

“Kobayashi,” said Kevin.

They stared at him.

He shrugged. “That’s what it says on her jersey.”

Neil turned back to Nicky. “She’s taking advantage of your delayed left turn. Your weight’s not evenly distributed. I’m not saying fix it right now,” he added quickly, “I’m just saying don’t let her use it.”

“Switch spots with me,” Matt suggested. “You’ll have to pay closer attention to Renee but I’ll bet the advantages compile. We’ll see if we can trip them up.”

Nicky clicked his tongue. “Carpe fucking diem.”

Dan finally spoke. “Maybe we can turn this into a good thing,” she said thoughtfully. “They were wary of us at first, or at least our reputation, but now they think we’re no hot shit. They’re too good to let their guard down completely, but if we come out hard and fast maybe we can rip a hole in it.”

Neil nodded. “They won’t know what hit them. If they’re too shocked to respond for even just a minute, we can own the rest of the game.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “Well, we can,” he said pointedly, then glanced from Aaron to Allison and Renee.

Allison stiffened. “Yes, Highness?”

Neil said, “Kevin” at the same time Renee said, “Allie.”

“No fighting,” said Dan. “Defense is pulling their weight, and if they need help, I can always fill in. They’ve certainly blocked more shots on goal than we’ve made at this point.”

Warning whistle. The Foxes started putting their helmets back on.

“Now’s the time,” said Wymack. “They’re not invincible. Win it right now or go home and tell Andrew how lousy you are without him.”

Everyone groaned.

Wymack grinned. “That’s my Foxes.”

By all accounts, it was not a game meant for winning. But when had the Foxes ever listened to anyone else’s account?

It was not an important game. It didn’t determine their spot in a bracket. The only people who watched it live were there in person. Their opponent was an elite team from Japan whose business it was to slaughter anyone they were put up against. The reporters made sure to put all of it in their columns—maybe the USC Trojans had a rough day, or maybe the PSU Foxes got lucky for the thousandth time in a row. But there was nothing in it for them, and they still tried their damnedest.

And the Foxes still won.

That Renee Walker, one of the journalists said to another, shaking her head. I’m stunned.

I know, said the other. And we thought Minyard was scary.

Neil’s head was a blur by the time the buzzer screamed at him to stop running. He felt like he had been playing against USC again—it was ridiculously unfair how good these people were while still being so sportsmanlike. He was mad that he couldn’t be mad at them. They were so courteous. How could someone be courteous while ramming you into the floor with an Exy racquet?

Needless to say, no one threw any punches.

The Foxes got better every passing moment of the second half, but so did Fukuoka. Neil had been right: they returned to the game with just enough force to shake their opponent’s ground without blowing themselves out. And the Swans retaliated. Just as he began to recognize some of their strategy calls, they stopped using them. Kevin wasn’t playing like he was bored anymore. Aaron wasn’t playing with one eye shut.

And Renee. God, had she woken up. She was a queen on her throne and her soldiers let no one usurp her.

The final score was 8-7, and the last goal was Neil’s.

It was like waking up from a dream. He could see his teammates yelling something to him but the stadium was so loud he couldn’t hear them. He leaned on his racquet for a moment, then ran for the congregation at half-court. Kevin came up behind him and smacked him on the shoulder so hard he tripped. Dan’s laughter cut through the commotion.

“Kevin!”

“Sorry!”

Kevin helped him to his feet and ruffled his half-dyed hair. Neil swatted Kevin’s hand away, grinning, and then they were shoving each other around and then they were at half-court, and Matt was practically suffocating him, and he could hear Katelyn calling after Aaron and Wymack saying, “Natalie Renee Walker!” Matt released him to hug Nicky and he was immediately seized by Dan, who said, “Neil, you devil!” and let him go just in time for them to see Allison grab Renee’s face, pull her from the throng of Foxes, and kiss her full on the mouth. Unless he was much mistaken, the cheering intensified.

When Allison pulled away, Renee looked more flustered and more pleased than Neil had ever seen her, but she also looked like she was about to faint. Breathlessly, she said, “Allie, I love you—but I’m never playing like that again.”

Allison laughed and swept Renee off her feet.

Behind them, Nicky was laughing at Kevin’s expression so hard Neil thought he might fall over. Kevin looked dumbfounded.

“You, uh…okay?” Neil asked him.

All Kevin could say was, “Wow.”

“Nicky,” said Matt, “are you breathing?”

Nicky managed, “He had no fucking idea.”

They lined up for handshakes (Allison almost carried Renee through), then began to head back to the locker rooms. Neil was following Matt in to hear Wymack and get changed when someone called his number.

“Ten! Short boy!”

Neil whirled around to see Swan four, one of the starting strikers, jogging over to him. Kobayashi, Kevin had called her. She offered him a quick bow of the head and said, in lightly accented English, “Sorry for laughing at you, Josten. Before the game started.”

“That’s what that was about?” he said. “I don’t mind. I know I look ridiculous.”

“We have a word for that in Japan,” she said. “Purin-atama. It means ‘pudding-head.’ In Japan pudding comes with chocolate on top and vanilla on bottom, like your hair. But usually we do it on purpose. That’s what is funny.”

Neil grinned. It was funny. “Thanks for telling me. I’ve been called worse names.”

“Your team is amazing,” Kobayashi said. “I’m so surprised we lost! And you’re really fast.”

“Kevin is better,” he said, then clarified, “Number two.”

“Oh, he is good. When I sat on the bench I just watched him. His Japanese is pretty good, too. I was surprised he speaks.”

Neil almost said, I was, too, but caught himself. “He doesn’t use it much. I’m not sure he likes it.”

“Really? If he teaches me some drills I can teach him some curse words. He seems interested enough.”

Kobayashi glanced over his head, and Neil followed her gaze. Kevin was indeed watching them, not surreptitiously at all. His frown disappeared when he saw them looking back.

“Come on, kid!” he called, feigning nonchalance.

“Looks like they need me,” Neil said. “Good game, Kobayashi.”

“Otsukaresama,” she said with a smile and a nod. “Maybe I’ll see you soon, Ten. My team says we want to meet that infamous goalkeeper of yours.”

Neil laughed. “Oh, him.”

“Yes, him. They tell us you two are—what’s the polite way to say? ‘Involved’? Where is he, anyway?”

“He’s in bed with a bad cold because he refuses to take his medicine.”

Kobayashi smirked. “He’ll be in bed with more than that when we’re through with him.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Until next time?”

“Count on it.”

She gave him a two-fingered salute and returned to her Swans. And Neil returned to his Foxes.

#the foxhole court #all for the game #aftg #tfc #aftgexchange #callron #my posts

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