#I DARE YOU TO TELL ME THIS ISN’T NEIL

[dayurno]

Do you ever just think about how the headboard on Kevin's bed on the Nest doesn't budge. Of all the hints about what his life there was like that's the one that gets to me the most because it's so deliberate. Because even though he's probably physically stronger than Riko or at least evenly matched, Kevin wouldn't fight back. But he wasn't given the choice to anyway

honestly i think putting neil in kevin’s side of the room is such a telling choice during the castle evermore scenes. we spend so much of the first and second book hearing about how much kevin fears his so-called family, their haunting of the narrative as bloodthirsty hounds who can sniff out his fear, and when we actually get to finding out why that is we see it from someone who was immediately shoved into kevin’s old place. riko wasn’t just hurting neil because he wanted to (“i’m going to enjoy hurting you just as much as i enjoyed hurting kevin”), he was making sure neil knew he was inferior by putting him in direct contact with the roles kevin and jean played in the nest, using him as a substitute for the one that got away. neil gets a speedrun of some of the worst moments of kevin’s life, and he gets not a single breathing moment for it before he has to be shoved back into exy, like kevin was

i wouldn’t dare presume nora sakavic’s intentions on anything at this point, but i like the idea that neil’s stay at evermore was supposed to tell us all we needed to know about kevin’s time there, without kevin ever having to actually recount the years (he wouldn’t, even if he could): that it was horrifying, and that being in his shoes will never be as glamorous as neil previously thought. i like the breaking of neil’s expectations for kevin; i like how it makes neil realize the life kevin led was not better. and that’s the point, isn’t it? when neil is lying in kevin’s bed, handcuffed to kevin’s headboard, his legs pinned under kevin’s only friend, getting hurt by kevin’s brother, that’s what neil realizes: this is not better. it might be different than life on the run, but it is not better.

[orionsangel86]

I was once again flicking through the Sandman comics and thinking about the changes made to the show (as I am pretty much always doing) and something that struck me as interesting is why they chose to swap out Tales in the Sand for Men of Good Fortune.

In the comics, The Sound of Her Wings is the last story in Preludes and Nocturns. Dream’s meeting with his sister Death closes out the first of the overarching storylines within the Sandman saga, and it ends with Dream finding some measure of peace after speaking with her, and finding joy in hearing the sound of wings.

This can be interpreted as the first bit of real foreshadowing of Dream’s desire to die. Anyone who has read the Kindly Ones knows how important The Sound Of Her Wings is as it is called back to heavily at the end.

In the comics, the next issue can be seen as a one off, but is included in The Doll’s House book. This issue is Tales in the Sand - the tragic love story of Dream and Nada.

Right after Tales in the Sand, we get to the Doll’s House, which begins the exact same way that episode 6 of The Sandman Netflix show ends - with Desire calling on Despair to begin their scheming over the existance of the vortex.

I found it very interesting how the show swapped out Tales in the Sand for Men of Good Fortune - a story which in the comics comes much later within The Doll’s House storyline.

On the one hand, it makes sense to move Men of Good Fortune outside of the Doll’s House story for pacing reasons. But by putting it where they did they have drastically changed the tone of the story in a few ways.

1. It changes the end of The Sound of Her Wings. Show!Dream doesn’t leave his sister to sit and find peace in the thought of death, instead he does the opposite, he immediately goes and seeks out the one person he knows who is quite literally the antithesis of death - someone who finds joy in living. It still ends the Preludes and Nocturns story with Dream finding some manner of peace and happiness, but not in the sound of wings. Instead, it’s in the reunion with his friend who loves life so much he refuses to die.

2. It takes the place of the only love story we are given for Dream at that point in the comics. The Sandman comics have a tendency to avoid revealling too much information about Dream too soon and up until this point in the comics, all we know about his love life is that he condemned a lover to hell 10,000 years ago, based on a very brief conversation in A Hope In Hell. Tales in the Sand is the expansion of that brief conversation, giving us at least one perspective of how the tragedy played out.

I am really curious about why they decided to leave it out of the show completely. Partly I think its because it isn’t exactly a flattering look at Dream as a character. Probably didn’t seem like good business sense to the people who wanted The Sandman to perform well to basically destroy your main characters likeability half way through the first season (imagine all the Twitter puriteens and anti types who would get on their high horses attacking Sandman fans and Neil Gaiman alike for daring to like a main character who comes across a little bit rapey in this particular story - among other horrific character flaws).

Also, Tales in the Sand generally fits better with the Season of Mists story arc overall, and I think we will get a much kinder and more forgiving version of this story in the show.

So instead of being introduced to the first of Dream’s lovers, we are introduced to Hob Gadling. Make of that what you will.

3. It makes the immediate cut to Desire at the start of The Doll’s House story all the more eyebrow raising. Part of the reason why I think Desire’s scenes follow on from Tales in the Sand is because Desire had a lot to do with Dream’s bad behaviour in that story, and what ultimately happened is partly their fault. It is brought up both in comic and show when Desire tells Despair that “Nada was a mistake” but in the show, this comment remains a mystery, whereas in the comic, it goes some way into explaining the horrific story we have just read.

In the show, instead it makes for absolutely beautiful subtext as they cut to Desire’s realm and the song Desire as Desire says “Attend sweet Sibling” whilst we have just watched Dream reunite with Hob and smile the first real smile he has had all season so far. For a split second on my first watch I legit thought Desire was talking to Dream at that point and encouraging him to hook up with Hob. It was a very confusing few seconds!

At the end of the day, I think the change to the order of these stories was a very good idea, even without the added level of shipping fodder it gives us Dreamling shippers. In changing the end to The Sound of Her Wings in the show, it removes the foreshadowing of Dream’s desire to die, which I’ll be honest, so far I can’t see at all in the show version of the story. Instead, we get a Dream who is happy for the first time after reuniting with his friend - who apparently waited an additional 33 years for him and built/refurbished a pub in that time.

I have a bazzillion more thoughts on the changes from comic to show on the Men of Good Fortune issue in particular, but that’s for another post. I just had to get my thoughts down as the more I read and re-read the comics, the more I feel like the show is considering a different direction, a more hopeful happy direction. But I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

[tavolgisvist]

Paul once reminded me, ‘Don’t forget, you’re not very good, any of you, you know that, don’t you?’ I had forgotten, I had. It had gotten to the point where I was really believing in myself, you know, really having a good time being me. Apple was in its (comparatively) early days. I had been back from America three months, this was summer 1968. It was design time for stationery and advertisements and logos, we were building our image by being and that was trouble, being. Being was sticking your neck out and getting bites all over it. I don’t think I ever hated anyone as much as I hated Paul in the summer of 1968. Postcards would arrive at my house from America or Scotland or wherever, some outright nasty ones, some with no meaning that I could see, one with a postage stamp torn in half and pasted neatly showing the gap between the two halves. Joan received one bearing the words: ‘Tell your boy to obey the schoolmasters,’ and signed: ‘Patron.’ Far out. Lots of people were getting postcards in those days; Christ, you know it wasn’t easy. These were the days long before Klein came to town. These were the days when Neil Aspinall as Managing Director would come to my room in Apple in the middle of the day and collapse on the sofa and sit, staring and staring. He tells me now it was fear. I knew then it was fear. We were all frightened. We were frightened of Them and we were frightened of each other and we were frightened of the press. At about this time Paul wrote ‘Hey Jude’. Remember: make a sad song better.

...

Something happened last week which was most significant – I signed my name with a flourish and it was a legible signature and it said: Derek Taylor. In the ordinary way I dare say this would mean very little – but it was fantastic how good it felt at the time. I blame no one but myself and I mention it only because it happened and it was wonderful. As I said, it was three years ago this month that Paul said to us: ‘Remember, you’re not really any good, any of you, you know that, don’t you?’ My God, it had been a long fight uphill most of the way, learning how to be and I credit the Beatles with astonishingly generous support for my efforts. My job in journalism was going very well indeed when we met, if you regard the Beaverbrook Press as something of value – and I did then, don’t now, hate its attitudes and stinking bigotry with fierce passion – then I was making some good time for myself but then I met the Beatles and that was the something else that millions of us were to pick up on and feed off and feed and feed off in one great seven-year feast. They broadened my vision and narrowed my margins of error, they straightened my path, loosened my tie, and they taught me to stand up and speak out. They hastened my classlessness, turned me on and inside out, literally put acid in my tea and in Joan’s, gave me presents, took my word for a lot of things, took my views on other things, my praise when it was offered free, bought my labour when it was offered for money and in the end, and in the end, by December 1970, I suffered an identity loss so crucial that when Richard DiLello returned to the Apple he had joined as an office boy and left as an apathetic wreck, returned as photographer and designer of the last Apple Christmas card which was to feature all our tense, cautious faces, I walked like a robot to a white expensively designed hollow white plastic rhomboid, placed it over my head, sat in the Director’s chair and posed faceless as one of the 365 arses Yoko once filmed. It was time to leave, I guess, and I went. It was New Year’s Eve 1970. You have read about the early part of that year, when George had sent me home: ‘Write,’ he said, ‘you have a lot to say.’ Dear George. I have nothing to say about George that isn’t loving and warm, and elder brotherly. Considering everything, he is a saint. He sent me home because there was nothing left for me to save at Apple – I don’t think I knew the half, not a quarter, not a tiny fraction of the background to staff movements in the last days of Pompeii, when the boiling shit hit the fan and sprayed over leaders and followers alike, leaving us all feeling grubby and ugly and useless. Was it true then, like Paul had said, and John was later to say and say and say again, that we were all of us, the inner clique, worthless, talentless? No, it was not true. We’re alive … and to prove it, we’re here.

...

I guess everything got too big, too bloody vast for human beings, frail, ill-prepared human beings, to cope, whether Beatles (and we had to concede it in the end, oh yes we did, they were human, should have realised that when Ringo had his tonsils out with the bidding at $10,000 for them), or us, nervous at their feet. We couldn’t take it. So … so … in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make. We weren’t making much love in the late sixties, not any of us. All the bold gold promises of heaven on earth for all artists everywhere, they went out the window by summer of 68 and by 1969 even Magic Alex was unmagicked. Came 1970 and even going to the pictures to see Let It Be was cause for guilt and shame? Christ! The manner of the ending of the Beatles is a shame, a real bad bummer. Maybe one day it will seem easier, I trust so. But had they continued, they and all of us who gave them their fixes and got our own in return, we would not have survived to tell the tale. I say now, it didn’t end a day too soon.

(As Time Goes by Derek Taylor)

(Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI)

Btw, about ‘Don’t forget, you’re not very good, any of you, you know that, don’t you?’ from John:

Q: How do you feel towards the Beatle people? All of them who used to – some still do – work at Apple, who’ve been around during those years. Neil Aspinal, Mal Evans . . . JOHN: I didn’t mention Mal. I said Neil, Peter Brown and Derek. They live in a dream of Beatle past, and everything they do is oriented to that. They also have a warped view of what was happening. I suppose we all do. Q: They must feel now that their lives are inextricably bound up in yours. JOHN: Well, they have to grow up then. They’ve only had half their life, and they’ve got another whole half to go; and they can’t go on pretending to be Beatles. That’s where it’s at, I mean when they read this, they’ll think it’s “cracked John,” if it’s in the article, but that’s where it’s at, they live in the past. You see, I presumed that I would just be able to carry on, and bring Yoko into our life, but it seemed that I had to either be married to them or Yoko, and I chose Yoko, and I was right.

(John Lennon, December 1970, interview with Jann Wenner for Rolling Stone)

[simonsrosebud]

kevaaron cause why not

kevneil (both are acespec )

Matt/Nicky (I stan bi matt) Erik and Nicky are still friends but we're previously in a relationship, Erik has moved on (maybe nickys first love??)

andrew/Roland pre -series (theyre like a year apart cause I'm not sure how old Roland is but I've always thought of him to be a gay middle-aged man, but Andrew would be like underage and that's a nono)

Kandrew (acespec kevin?? Maybe on the demisexual spectrum??)

Renee/Allison/Dan or some variant/combination in the same au as Matt/Nicky

Jean/Neil , demisexual spec Neil

Kevin/Jeremy cause they were never given a chance and KEVIN I KNOW THERE'S GAY IN YOU demispec kev

Choose whichever pairing that inspires you most but PLEASE tag me in the writing cause I need more aftg in my life <3

okay i may definitely tag u if i do others but for the first one i couldn't help but do jeremy and kevin I JUST LOVE THEM

The thing about Jeremy, Kevin supposes, is that he really thinks that he could’ve been a Raven if someone had been paying attention all the way in West Virginia.  He had the same talent and stats that other strikers did when joining the line, had more of a height advantage than Riko ever did.

Being a Raven would have broken his spirit.  Kevin doesn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that, knowing that he probably would have contributed to it at some point.

But then he wouldn’t be this, free and spirited and so fearless in showing unabashed joy.  Here, sitting in Kevin’s car, babbling on about California and how Kevin really should visit him next time so that he can show him around.  “I’m glad the sun has finally reached you,” he’s saying, “You look good with a nice tan.”  And it’s taking too much out of Kevin to keep his eyes on the road.

Jeremy’s hotel is just off campus, but it’s not far, and Kevin does have time, so he leans against the hood of the car while Jeremy lifts himself up onto it because “the height difference isn’t fair”.  It's only three inches, Kevin doesn't dare point it out. And suddenly Kevin is reaching out to smooth his fingers through Jeremy’s hair, soft and smooth and golden in the setting sun.

“Maybe it’s all this hair weighing you down,” he says.

Jeremy smiles, wide and lopsided and lazy, and leans into his touch.  “Never.  The hair is part of my charm.”

Kevin settles his hand on the hood of the car, then, all long legs and tall torso leaning so casually, and he’s pretty sure Jeremy’s eyes linger on his arms for a second longer than normal.  It makes his chest fluttery, so he says, “That’s what I used to tell Jean.”

And oh, Jeremy lights up.  “Yeah?  He tells me it’s unbearable.”

“He’s an idiot.”  Why would anyone ever say that?  “I used to talk about you a lot… in the Nest.”  He doesn’t really know why he says it other than he and Jeremy won’t be in the same place forever and Neil told him to stop holding back just because he’s scared of getting a letter in the mail from Ichirou himself.  So long as you send them their money and stay out of jail, your free time is your own.

With the way Jeremy preens at his confession, he thinks it’s the right call, anyway.  He taps Kevin’s closest finger with his pinky.  “What, about exy?”

“No.”

Surprise.  “Oh.”  Jeremy’s skin is honey gold and bronzed from the constant California sun, but Kevin’s never seen him sunburned.  The tinge of pink on his cheeks may be as close as he’ll get.  “Can I tell you something embarrassing?”

Oh no.  Kevin steels the lead in his stomach.  “Sure, anything.”  He can feel it coming, the inevitable, I feel flattered, you know, but I just don’t-

“I used to have a poster of you in my bedroom at home.” 

God, this was even worse.

“But I took it down once my older brother caught me kissing it goodnight before bed.”

Oh…?

Kevin opens his mouth, but doesn’t know what to say.  Instead, a smirk starts taking over his lips.  “You had… You used to kiss me?  Every night?”

Jeremy’s blush has traveled the length of his neck, but at least he laughs softly.  “Until I was, like, almost sixteen, yeah.”  Kevin taps his pinky finger back.  “Now I just do it in my head.”

Pause.

Kevin whips his head back up, shock surely coating his face.  “You what?”

And Jeremy’s face falls.  “I-I just mean- sorry, I didn’t- oh god, I just made this super,” he slides off the hood of the car, “awkward.  That’s not- I just meant that, like-“

Kevin grabs his hand when he gets too far.  Jeremy freezes, but doesn’t dare move.  Kevin works on his words, lets his mouth fish open while he tries forming them, and eventually says, “If I had a poster of you,” he frowns, “I’d, um…” he looks up at Jeremy, vulnerable and confused and maybe, possibly, the least bit hopeful.  “I’d kiss you goodnight, too.”

Grinning, now, Jeremy lets his hand fall further into Kevin’s, and gives it two squeezes.  “You can, you know,” he whispers.  He meets Kevin’s eyes slowly.  “If you want.”

Nothing could stop the jackhammering in Kevin’s chest, or the rushing of blood in his ears from how red his face probably is, but Jeremy’s voice comes through right as rain regardless.  He gives his hand a tug, pulling Jeremy closer, and steps towards him so that he has to look down at him.  Those three inches are going to kill him.

But Kevin must be taking too long, because then Jeremy’s hand is sliding up the side of his neck and pulling him down, and Kevin’s hands go flying to his sides, falling into the dip of his waist and wishing they could run up along his skin.  Jeremy sighs a bit into his mouth and drags his tongue along Kevin’s bottom lip, and then Kevin is pulling him closer until their chests are flush and his hands can slide underneath the thin t-shirt, hand splaying on Jeremy’s lower back and wanting to curl itself into the skin there.

Jeremy’s tongue is warm and slick and Kevin tries not to be embarrassed when he moans lightly into his mouth.  It makes Jeremy smile against his mouth, which really is Kevin’s own fault because he did not want this kiss to end.  Jeremy tucks back in for one more kiss, shorter but sweeter, his fingers gently scratching at Kevin’s scalp, and searches Kevin’s face from only inches apart when Kevin subtly tilts his head into his hand.

“I kinda had one more embarrassing thing,” Jeremy pants a little, a warm smile poking through, and god, everything about him is warm and sweet, so so sweet.  His skin underneath his shirt is warm like a fresh batch of cookies; tongue like a melted marshmallow daring to fall apart in your mouth;  smile like a rainbow after a hot summer shower and disposition of one that reminds Kevin of his mother’s comfort, of Abby’s hugs and his father’s safety.

Jeremy himself is a son of Apollo, Kevin is sure of it.

But Kevin doesn’t trust his own voice, right now, so he just nods and hums in encouragement.  He holds Jeremy close more decidedly, taking advantage of the contact and flattening his palms along the bare skin of his back and waist below his shirt.  He thinks for a moment it sends shivers down Jeremy’s spine.

For this, though, Jeremy goes up on his tip toes and tilts Kevin’s head to grant him his ear.  He nips at it, first, sending a shiver down Kevin’s spine, and says, “You’ve been number one on my list since I was fourteen.”

“God.”  It’s not intentional, but Kevin doesn’t even care at this point.  He’s heard all about these lists from Nicky.  He knew what it meant.

Jeremy laughs, quiet and contained and goofy, and props his elbows on Kevin’s shoulders to shelter them in.  “Would you like to come up to my room?”

[stabbyfoxandrew]

I kept forgetting abt ww for weeks oml I can't believe angel Neil is on 127!!!!! I'm v sry, pls can I have some angel neil??

WIP Wednesday (3/6) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 131)

“Chocolate on chocolate, I bet,” Neil guesses with a smile. “That’s what you like best, isn’t it?”

“Mm,” Andrew recalls a homemade chocolate cake in a yellow-painted kitchen in Oakland. It was dry and the frosting was gritty, but it had his name on it. And Cass had actually cared enough to— Andrew doesn’t want to think about that either. “Nicky always gets vanilla cake. That’s what Aaron likes.”

“That’s not fair.” Neil says with a frown. Andrew shrugs. It’s not like he’s ever bothered to express his opinion. Cake is cake. 

“Doesn’t matter much to me, I’ll pile chocolate ice cream onto it no matter what color it is.” 

“Oh, I miss ice cream.” Neil says suddenly. “Strawberry was my favorite.”

Andrew makes a face. “You are a very sad man.”

“Big news, everybody! Neil is sad and the sky is blue! Don’t forget to pick up the paper!” Neil says, cupping his hands around his mouth. Andrew laughs and Neil rolls his eyes. “For your information, strawberry ice cream is better than chocolate. And I’ll tell you another secret: so is vanilla.”

���How dare you.”

[starsandgutters]

Hey :)

I'd like to suggest "kidnapping" as a flash fic prompt for Kevaaron 🫶🏻

Hello! 💖 I put a slight slant on this. Instead of outright kidnapping, I've gone for coercion. I hope that is okay! 🥰 54. Kidnapping

CWs: Depictions of violence Blood mention References to Thanksgiving/Drake/Easthaven Drug use/OD mention Reference to bathroom rehab

Wymack has told him to stay close to Neil or Matt all night, to use them as his shields, but it is Aaron that Kevin tries to keep in his line of vision. Aaron who he tracks all night with his eyes, only glancing away when Aaron looks back at him. He’s dared to look back too early a couple of times, caught the disapproving frown on Aaron’s face. Kevin hates watching him with Katelyn, everyone’s assumption they’re together so prevalent, Aaron saying nothing to dissuade it.

It’s Kevin’s fault, of course. Kevin had told him to do this. Had refused to let Aaron spend the banquet by his side even when he’d asked.

“It doesn’t have to be as a date, but if Kate doesn’t come I can focus on you.”

“They’ll be suspicious if Katelyn isn’t with you when Andrew is away.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Kev. Not with how you get around Riko.”

“I do,” Kevin had said, with a tone of finality, and Aaron had grown quiet and sullen and disappeared inside himself for the rest of the night. He’s good at that. He’s been doing it more, since Thanksgiving. Kevin has noticed but doesn’t really know how to help. On nights when he isn’t distracted by his own spiralling anxieties, and when he is feeling a bit softer, he thinks about crossing the room and climbing into Aaron’s bed. Not saying anything, just holding him. Letting him bury his face against Kevin’s chest and hide from the world for a while.

Then Kevin thinks of how Nicky would react if he found them there, and he just lies in his bed, listening to Aaron toss and turn, the occasional stifled noises he buried beneath the blanket. Kevin is never sure if he is crying. Kevin has never seen Aaron cry. It hurts his chest to think about, but that ache is not bigger than fear of the impact if anyone finds out. 

Even Katelyn knowing is a risk Kevin didn’t want to take.

“I’m not using her,” Aaron said. “I’m not going to string her along acting like we’re dating and then fuckin’ two time her.”

“Technically you’d be two timing me with her. Which, if that’s what you have to do-”

“Shut up. God, I hate you sometimes. I don’t even know why we’re doing this.”

But Aaron’s harsh words are always contradicted by his gentle hands, the concern in his eyes, the way he never stops showing small signs of care for Kevin even when he is mad at him. Which is unfortunately most of the time. Kevin’s fear means he keeps Aaron at arms length. He can’t find it in himself to let him go entirely, this unexpected source of comfort he never expected in the Foxes, but he also can’t hold him close the way he wants to. Aaron does not react well to the hot and cold, but for some reason he always stays. Sometimes Kevin wonders why. Mostly he just assumes Aaron is always going to be there. 

Kevin thinks Aaron being the first to leave the table after dinner is his passive aggressive way of making a point. He might be more irritated about that if the threat of Riko were not hanging over him like a guillotine. As it stands, he just watches Aaron go with a small frown. Catches glimpses of him dancing with Katelyn as other people move around the room and tells himself he doesn’t care, because he wouldn’t want to dance even if they could. He sticks close to Neil and sips at punch that tastes bitter in his mouth, warily scanning the crowd like a cornered animal as they wait for Riko to come.

He does, though Neil inserts himself between Riko and Kevin until Jean leads him away. Kevin feels like a numb voyeur, but he has enough presence of mind to stop Matt when he heads for Neil. Anyone else getting involved after Neil’s dig about Riko’s distance from his family will only make things worse. Matt shrugs him off, and Jean tugs at Kevin’s arm, leading him further away. Kevin goes, only because it is Jean, and he does not believe Jean will hurt him. 

“He has asked me to give you this,” Jean says. He looks around warily, then slides an envelope out from inside his suit jacket. He moves to press it to Kevin’s palm, but Kevin draws his hand back.

“What is it?”

“Take it.”

“Tell me what it is.”

“Plane tickets. He wants Nathaniel to come to us over the winter break.”

“No. No fucking way. He’ll kill him.”

“I have been told to give you the tickets,” Jean says, his voice flat but his eyes desperate. If Kevin does not take them, Jean will be punished. He tenses his jaw, but finally allows Jean to put the envelope in his hand. Kevin tucks it into an inside pocket. Jean nods. 

“He can’t go.”

“I have a feeling he will.”

“Will you look after him if he does?”

The look Jean gives Kevin is chilling. He releases his arm and steps away, moving back towards Riko when a loud sound catches both of their attentions. They move towards the raucous, and Kevin sees Neil and Riko crash to the ground, Neil a flurry of limbs as he lashes out at any part of Riko he can reach. 

It takes a chaotic squabble of people to pull Neil away from Riko before the coaches arrive, and then Wymack herds them all towards the Home side of the court. Kevin is paying little attention to Wymack berating Neil. He’s too aware of the envelope in his pocket, feels like it is smouldering away, at risk of burning through his clothes and into his skin at any moment. 

"Riko bought off the prosecution." Neil is speaking slowly, emphasising what he’s saying so they all listen. Kevin’s gaze flicks over to him. "That's why Drake risked coming all the way here to see Andrew. Riko would get the charges dismissed if Drake would-" 

Neil grits his teeth and shakes his head, unable to finish. Kevin understands. He feels sick himself with the thought, but unsurprised. When he thinks of the Nest, this is exactly the kind of thing Riko would do. He looks around, automatically checking for Aaron’s reaction. It’s the first time he realises Aaron isn’t with them. 

“Did you get it? Did you get my ticket? Kevin. Look at me.” Neil is hissing at him in French. Kevin’s head turns slowly towards Neil, but he’s looking through him rather than seeing him. His pulse is racing. Why is Aaron not here? Did he not see what went down with the fighting? Kevin swears he saw Katelyn with Thomas when Wymack waved them off just a moment ago. 

“I’m going to kill him,” Nicky says, and Neil looks away from Kevin to reply. He’s not listening. He looks around again, feeling frantic now. Where is Aaron? He can see Katelyn, down the court a bit, also looking around. Which means she doesn’t know where he is either. 

"Do you have my ticket?" Neil’s words draw Kevin’s attention back again.

"You're not going. Do you know what he'll do to you?"

"Do you know what he'll do to Andrew if I don't go? I don't have a choice. I have to go. You have to trust me."

"He will break you."

"He wishes he knew how. Trust me. I promise I'll come back, and when I do I'll bring Andrew back with me. It's going to be fine. So do you have my ticket or don't you?" 

"I have it." Kevin presses his lips together hard, gaze shifting around the court once more. He shifts back to English. “Where’s Aaron?”

“Oh shit,” Nicky says. Wymack looks disgruntled, eyes narrowing as he does a quick skim of his Foxes. Even among the panic, Kevin feels a flare of anger that none of them seemed to notice Aaron’s absence. 

“Shall we split up and check the hall for him?” Dan asks. “But someone keep Neil and Kevin here, I don’t think it’s a good idea for them to be near Riko again.”

Kevin’s looking back towards Katelyn when she suddenly takes off running, hoisting the skirt of her dress up above her knees to give her more ease of movement, allow her to race faster. Kevin’s eyes move ahead of where she’s going, but he can’t see Aaron past the other teams on the floor. Katelyn disappears from his line of vision, and it’s several moments later before she reappears with Aaron. There is blood on his shirt. His nose is bloody. His mouth might be too, or it could just be the blood trickling down from his nose. Kevin feels sick.

“Not you too.” Wymack sighs heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “Who were you fighting with?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“A surefire way to make me worry about it. You’re all trying to take me out via high blood pressure before the New Year. Speak. What happened?”

“One of the Ravens trying his chances while everyone else was distracted in the fray.” Aaron looks at Abby when she comes over to him. He flinches when she reaches for his face. Abby frowns, but she waits for Aaron to move forward to her hands rather than reach after him again. He says, voice far softer with her: “I’m okay.”

Abby checks his nose anyway, while Katelyn wraps herself around one of his arms. Kevin wants to go over and check on Aaron himself, but his feet remain stubbornly rooted to the floor. Aaron glances over at him, but whatever he sees just makes his frown deepen.

“Let’s go home, Coach,” Dan says, and when Abby is done with Aaron, they all pile back onto the bus.

*

It’s a silent drive home. Kevin sits sullenly beside Neil and spends his journey watching the back of Aaron’s head. Katelyn keeps running her fingers through his hair, both of them sitting unnecessarily close to each other on their seats. They don’t say much, but seem perfectly capable of communicating plenty with looks alone. Eventually Katelyn guides Aaron’s head down to her shoulder, insistently pushing him when he resists until he finally melts against her. She drapes his jacket over him like a blanket and wraps her arms around him, fingers continuing to stroke through his hair until she falls asleep. Kevin doesn’t know if Aaron also sleeps, but he doesn’t move, and Kevin is torn between a bitterness that it is not him comforting Aaron, and a deep gratitude to Katelyn for looking after him in the way Kevin can’t. 

There is a selfishness to his desire to be in her place as well. He also wants the comfort right now, can feel a longing in himself for the solid press of Aaron’s warmth against him. He catches his left hand in his right and rubs his thumb up and down along the length of his scar, but it is not the same as Aaron touching him. Kevin is too keenly aware it is his own skin, even when he closes his eyes and tries to imagine it. 

*

Kevin hands Neil the envelope in the hallway of Fox Tower. Neil takes it without opening it and goes into his dorm. Nicky babbles on about the evening, filling Aaron in on the fight in case he missed it, prompting Aaron for more details on what happened to him. Aaron does not answer, but he does inform Nicky that he’s not going to New York for Christmas. He’s going to spend it with Katelyn.

The room goes dead silent for a long stretch. Kevin looks at Aaron, stunned. It is one thing for him to make a point by going off to dance with Katelyn at the banquet, another entirely to leave Kevin for the whole of the Christmas break to be with her. What, are they lying to Katelyn’s family now too? Going to pretend she’s bringing her boyfriend home for Christmas? Or maybe Aaron took it seriously when Kevin said if that’s what you have do. Perhaps it’s not a lie anymore, and Aaron has feelings for Katelyn, and he’s realising she’s the better choice.

“What?” Finally Nicky shatters the silence, going off on an extended rant about how he cancelled his trip to Germany to be with Aaron. How he doesn’t want to be separated for Christmas. Aaron says little in response, expression grim as Nicky gets noticeably more upset. Kevin feels like an unwilling voyeur as he gets changed in the background, but there’s not many places he can go within the dorm to escape. 

Aaron dips his head, expression the closest thing to guilty Kevin has seen on his carefully guarded face. Nicky pauses in his speech. He’s clearly still devastated, but he takes in Aaron’s curled forward form and he sighs for a long time. He puts his hands to his face and rubs his palms over his eyes.

“This will make you happy?”

“Yes,” Aaron says after a beat. Nicky doesn’t notice the delay. Kevin does. Aaron side glances at him while Nicky sighs. Kevin wonders if this is a test. If he asks Aaron nicely will he maybe come with them after all. He sets his jaw, wondering if he should play into that game.

“Okay then.” Nicky sounds exhausted and defeated. “But keep in touch with me, okay?”

Aaron nods. The atmosphere in the dorm is oppressive as they all change for bed. Kevin is glad when he can lie down and pretend to sleep. Eventually Nicky’s breathing evens out and deepens. Kevin waits to hear Aaron’s go too, though usually it is Kevin who falls asleep first. Aaron’s breath stays quiet, and after Nicky has been out for a while, he swings his legs out of bed.

“Come on.” Aaron stops by Kevin’s bed in the dark. Kevin does not move. “I know you’re awake. I can tell by your breathing.”

Aaron leaves the room. Kevin thinks about ignoring him, but it’s only a moment before he follows. Aaron nods at the bedroom door. Kevin pulls it closed behind him. Aaron leads them to the furthest side of the kitchen, as far away as he can get from the bedroom. Kevin folds his arms over his chest as he follows him. He wonders if this is them finally coming to a head. If Aaron is going to break it off with him.

“Do you have it?” Aaron asks.

“What?” Kevin’s whole face scrunches up in confusion. He had been bracing himself for an argument at best, a break up at worst. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to have.

“The plane ticket. Do you have it?”

“I gave it to Neil.” It’s only after Kevin answers that it occurs to him Aaron shouldn’t know about that ticket.

“Why would you give it to Neil?”

“How do you know about it?”

“What?”

“What?”

“Kevin.” Aaron sighs like Kevin is greatly inconveniencing him. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why would you give my plane ticket to Neil?”

It takes Kevin a long moment to process that, and it feels like his whole system has to reboot afterwards. Aaron’s absence. The blood on his nose. Don’t worry about it. No. No. It’s one thing for Neil to go. Neil was destined for the Nest, Riko has some twisted sense of claim on him, but he has no ownership over Aaron. And as much as Kevin would prefer no one go to the Nest, Neil probably has the best chance of survival out of all of them. Not Aaron. Aaron is probably disposable to Riko. Probably as easy to get rid of as Seth.

“No,” Kevin says, the word finally ripping free of his throat. Aaron’s eyes jump to the bedroom door, then he glares at Kevin. 

“Shhh.”

You cannot even imagine what is coming next, Riko had said, and he was right. Kevin would never have imagined this. He’s been trying so hard to keep distance between him and Aaron in public. This is why he’s been causing a constant rift between them. His feeble effort to protect Aaron, and what has it been for? Kevin doesn’t know if he’s the cause exactly; or if Riko’s just come for Aaron off the back of targeting Andrew. Maybe he thinks Neil’s fondness extends to both twins, or he knows this will piss off Andrew when he gets released.

Or maybe somehow Kevin is to blame. Perhaps they’ve slipped up somewhere, or he’s got someone spying on them in private. He doesn’t think Riko will kill either of them; at this point it would not serve the Ravens to win simply because the Foxes are disqualified. There will always be the what if haunting them in that case. But there is an awful lot that can be done in the Nest that is not death. Kevin knows. Kevin has seen it.

“You can’t go,” Kevin hisses, crossing the space between them, putting his hands on the counter on either side of Aaron’s hips. “It’s a trap. He’ll kill you. Or destroy you. Aaron, you can’t.”

“I have to,” Aaron says simply. “He threatened Andrew if I don’t.”

Do you know what he’ll do to Andrew if I don’t?

So Riko is hanging the same threat over both of them. There is a small relief in it. Riko doesn’t know. This is not Kevin’s fault. He is not hurting Aaron because of Kevin, but then, in the grand scheme of things, of course it is Kevin’s fault. None of them would be in Riko’s line of attack if he had not left. If he had not come to the Foxes. If he had not made his deal with Andrew and fought to have Neil on his lineup. They wouldn’t even be dealing with the Ravens in their district if Kevin had not come here.

“Aaron.” Kevin’s voice is a broken plea. He knows it is hopeless. There is no force on this Earth that will shift Aaron’s decision beyond Andrew himself walking back into the dorm. Kevin knows this. It does not make it easy to accept. He ducks his head down, pressing his forehead to Aaron’s shoulder. He laughs, but it is a bitter sound. “I thought you were breaking up with me. Kind of wish it were just that now.”

Aaron goes extremely still beneath Kevin. Kevin’s chest catches again.

“Are we even together?”

Kevin tilts his head, looks at Aaron through watery eyes. Aaron looks back, his own expression blank and assessing. Kevin swallows thickly. He watches Aaron’s resolve weaken in real time. As always, he cannot help but care for Kevin even when he is mad. He lifts a hand and gently smooths his thumb along his cheek. Kevin shudders out a breath. Aaron closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Kevin’s. 

“I’ll just have to be your New Year’s Eve kiss in spirit,” he says. “Not that you’d have let me kiss you with everyone around anyway.”

“Aaron.” 

“I assume Neil is going too then. Ballsy of him, taking two of us. Come on.” Aaron pushes Kevin back gently. “Let’s go get my ticket.”

Aaron wraps his knuckles against Neil’s dorm door, no concern of waking Matt. Kevin hopes he’s not back from the girls' dorm yet. It takes a minute before Neil appears, looking bleary and smelling of smoke. Aaron steps in past him before Neil can block him. Kevin follows, his head dipped.

“What?” Neil asks, looking drained.

“You have something of mine,” Aaron says.

“What?”

“The envelope.” Kevin’s voice sounds like it is coming from outside his body. There’s a ringing in his ears. He walks through to the bedroom, and when he finds it empty, sinks down into the desk chair. “He’s taking Aaron too.”

“What? No.” Neil’s voice is more irritated than the devastation of Kevin’s reaction. “What’s he want with you?”

“Does that asshole ever have reasoning?” Aaron shrugs. He doesn’t know that there’s a much bigger reason why Riko is taking Neil. He thinks this is still just about exy. Kevin’s eyes flick to Neil, wondering if he is going to reveal this. It’s not Kevin’s place to say. Neil says nothing. “He said he’ll hurt Andrew if I don’t go, so I’m going.”

“Yeah.”

“You too?” Aaron looks at Neil with an assessing gaze. Neil nods, staring back. “Why? He won’t be grateful.”

“He won’t be grateful to you for killing Drake, or for doing this either. It doesn’t matter. We do what we have to do.”

“He’s my brother.”

“The Foxes are all I have. I don’t care what Andrew thinks. I’m making the only call I can.”

Aaron studies Neil in silence, his expression unconvinced. Kevin looks between them, then drops his gaze to the ground, head in his hands. He’s already lost Andrew. He’s barely been able to grasp the idea of losing Neil. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive losing the three of them. His chest tightens, his breath cutting in and out of him, not enough, lungs aching. 

“Breathe, Kevin,” Aaron says. His voice is sharper than usual, and he doesn’t move to Kevin’s side like he sometimes does. Kevin wishes he would right now. He doesn’t even care that Neil is here. He wants Aaron to reassure him. Andrew is the one that tells him hard facts, like everything is shit, but he will survive regardless. Aaron is the reassurance. He doesn’t lie, but he focuses on what is true. You’re okay. You’re safe in this moment. You can breathe, I know you can. “I know this is hard for you, but I need you to get it together. You have to watch Nicky for me until I get back.” 

“You can’t go,” Kevin says, even though he knows they both will. It’s a pointless waste of the small amount of oxygen he manages to drag in.

“We’re going,” Aaron says, final, then holds out his hand to Neil. “Ticket.”

*

While Neil makes up some lie about going home to see an uncle, Aaron simply says he’s got an early flight and he’s leaving with Katelyn. 

“How are you getting to the airport?” Kevin asks.

“I’ll take the bus. Too suspicious if Neil and I leave at the same time. Kate’s gonna cover for me if anyone messages her.” Aaron finishes double checking his bag and turns back to Kevin. They’re in the living room of their dorm, both of them having been unable to sleep last night. “You’ll be okay. You’ll be in New York. No one outside of us knows you’re going. No one will be able to reach you there, and they’ll be busy with Neil and I anyway, I’m sure. So you’ll be fine until I get back.”

“You won’t.”

“I’ll live.”

“Best case.”

“Kevin.”

“Let me get you a cab.”

“The bus is fine.”

“Aaron. It’s the least I can do. If I could go in your place-”

“You wouldn’t,” Aaron says, and Kevin deflates, because it’s the truth. “And that’s okay. I wouldn’t let you, because you might never get out again, but I will.”

Kevin reaches for Aaron, unsure if he’ll actually be allowed to touch him, but once his hand wraps around Aaron’s forearm all the bravado seeps out of him. He sags forward against Kevin’s chest as Kevin embraces him tightly, pressing his face to Aaron’s hair, breathing in the familiar scent of him.

“Come back to me.”

“I will. I just said that.”

Aaron draws back just enough to look up into Kevin’s eyes. His gaze flicks over his face, assessing, before he pushes up on the balls of his feet and presses their lips together. It is a surprisingly soft kiss for them. Kevin drops his hands to Aaron’s waist to steady him, then leans down so he does not have to arch up so much. Aaron’s arms curl around Kevin’s neck, holding him closer. The pressure between them builds, a sense of desperation, but the kiss does not deepen. Aaron breaks it, pulling away slowly, Kevin following him for just a second. Aaron takes a deep breath. He sighs it out. 

Then he kisses Kevin in a way that makes his inside melt, tongue against his, tongue piercing trailing along the top of his mouth, fingers in his hair. This kiss is far more brief, but Kevin is almost panting when Aaron pulls away. Aaron wipes his damp lips on the back of his hand.

“That’s your New Year’s Eve kiss early.”

*

Kevin’s phone rings on Christmas Day. He excuses himself from the table, insistent he has to take it. Neil’s name is flashing across the screen. It’s the first he has heard from either of them beyond a confirmation text from Aaron that they had landed in West Virginia. Kevin’s been sick with worry, and Nicky’s festive mood has been darkened by Aaron not replying to any of his messages, thinking he’s being ignored in favour of Katelyn. Kevin makes sure to move a fair bit down the hall before he answers.

“Neil?”

“Nathaniel’s a bit preoccupied at the moment,” Riko says, and Kevin freezes, heartbeat thundering in his ears. “I just wanted to let you know about my Christmas gift to him. See, he’s finally got his number. Just like he was always supposed to have. Things in order how they should have been.”

“No,” Kevin says, disbelieving.

“Oh yes, Kevin. Just finished tattooing it. The ink is still fresh.”

Everything in Kevin wants to hang up on him, but he’s afraid if he does Neil will suffer for his arrogance. So he is stuck clutching the phone and breathing shallowly. 

“I will have my Perfect Court, Kevin, as is my birthright. I don’t care how many bumps I have to go through along the way. You will all fall in line for me eventually.”

When Kevin still doesn’t speak, Riko laughs, sharp and cutting, crackling down the line.

“Merry Christmas.” He hangs up without waiting for a response.

*

We landed in WV

He’s here with Jean

We are just heading to the airport for NY

Merry Christmas

You’re meant to be back today

Did you get back?

Happy New Year

Yes

Happy New Year

Are you okay?

Aaron?

I will be

Was asleep

Did he hurt you?

I’m okay Kev

Are you okay?

Of course I’m okay

Really?

As okay as I ever am

Okay

*

“Is Neil okay?” Kevin asks when Wymack answers the phone in lieu of greeting. “He’s not answering my calls.”

“Surprise surprise. Okay is perhaps an overstatement, but he’s alive and functional. Just about.”

Kevin sighs heavily. It doesn’t quite feel like relief. 

“You knew then.”

“Yes.”

“Did you know about Aaron too?”

Kevin’s mouth feels incredibly dry.

“Yes.” The word scratches hoarse and quiet out of his throat.

“You’re going to have to tell the others.”

“They didn’t want me to-”

“Kevin. Listen to me. They are going to be okay, but neither of them are in a good way right now. The others need to be warned what they’re coming back to. Neil’s battered. They’ve dyed his hair, he’s apparently been wearing contacts all this time, and…”

There is a long pause. Wymack does not tend to hesitate. Kevin feels a sick drop in his stomach.

“And what?”

“They’ve tattooed him. A number four.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Riko called me on Christmas to gloat.”

“A heads up would have been nice,” Wymack says, but he does not sound particularly angry. Just his usual gruff irritation. 

“Aaron too?” Kevin does not really think Riko will have inked Aaron. While Neil’s number was probably intended as a claim of ownership, Riko in general is very picky about who gets one. The Perfect Court is only to be composed of the best of the best, of course. There are countless Ravens fighting for those numbers. Aaron is not really talented enough, does not care enough about exy to really merit one, but Riko has been acting more erratically and taking more risks than Kevin has ever expected from him. He has to check. 

“No. From the little I’ve managed to scrape out of Neil, they had Aaron somewhere else while they were putting him through exy torture camp.”

“So Aaron’s okay?”

“No. They’ve pumped him full of something. Abby’s sent for blood tests, but he’s a mess. She suspects a blend of heavy opioids and maybe something else. The early signs of withdrawals have started but Abby anticipates he’ll get a lot worse over the next week or so. She’s keeping him largely sedated at the moment. Looks like he’s barely eaten in weeks. He’s not as badly battered as Neil, but they’ve definitely beat him as well.”

Kevin puts a hand to his face. His throat convulses. Fuck. Fuck. 

“We’ll try and get back earlier.”

“No point. I doubt he’ll be conscious much in the next few days, and Neil can barely move. I’ve got my hands full trying to get him to rest.”

“You think Nicky is going to want to wait a few days when he hears about Aaron?”

“Then don’t tell him until the day before you come back, but I need you to warn them, Kevin. I got enough of a shock when Neil phoned me to pick them up from the airport. Neil was the one to phone me. That says enough. He barely knew where he was, and Aaron was still off his head. I don’t know how Aaron managed to navigate the pair of them through the airport, or how no one stopped them. I don’t even know how he survived the flight. He spent the whole car ride back shivering and puking in the backseat.”

“Did you take him to the hospital?”

“No. It’ll be too easy to slant this as a stress induced relapse after everything that happened, and if the press can paint him as a junkie, that could have a negative impact on the trial. Abby’s monitoring him. If it gets precarious enough that he needs to go in, she’ll make that call, but at the moment she says she’s got him, and I trust her.”

Kevin sniffs. He’s finding it hard to speak. He nods even though Wymack can’t see him, breathing shaky down the line.

“Are you going to be okay?” Wymack asks, in that way he has that is blunt but somehow still compassionate. Just like Aaron. Fuck.

“Nothing happened to me.” No, nothing happened to Kevin. Everyone else is just suffering in his place. Taking all of Riko’s blows because he can’t reach Kevin. “If I’d just gone back to the Nest-”

“Don’t start that. No one wants that. You’ve seen how Neil has gone out of his way to put himself between you and Riko countless times, and I know Aaron can be a bit closed off, but he wouldn’t want you going back either.”

Kevin wonders if Wymack is just saying that. If he’s trying to be comforting, or Aaron has maybe said something in his high state. Kevin searches himself to see if he cares about that, but the old throb of panic and concern is gone. All he feels is a hollow ache. He’s speaking with his father, who doesn’t know, because Kevin is too afraid to tell him. About the boy who he loves, who doesn’t know, because Kevin is too afraid to tell him. And both of them put in the effort to care for Kevin even without the awareness of either of those facts.

“Look after him,” Kevin says, sounding broken even to himself. Then, uselessly, he adds: “Both of them.”

It’s pointless in multiple ways, because he knows Neil will resist being taken care of, and he knows he already exposed himself. But he’s tired, aching, sick, and he can’t find it in himself to keep pretending. Not right now. Not in this moment.

“I will. I’ll take care of things on my side, and you take care of things on your side. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah,” Kevin says hoarsely.

“Good. Oh, and Happy New Year.”

*

You told me you were okay

Aaron

Was sleeping again

I said I will be

I can’t wait to see you

Really?

Yes

Is that a surprise?

Kinda

You should get more rest

See you soon

Yes

*

“We have something to tell you,” Kevin says. His voice is paper thin. He’s looking at Nicky but not really seeing him. His hands are shaking so badly he has to move his phone to the right one, afraid his left one will give, and even now he feels like he might still drop it. He swallows around the lump in his throat. 

“You alright, man?” Matt asks. Nicky is uncharacteristically quiet as he takes in Kevin’s stance and expression. His smile slowly drops from his face.

“What is it?”

“It’s Aaron,” Kevin says, and he feels his throat convulse, closing tight. He thought he had learned to shut this down. How many years he had spent watching Jean get battered and bruised. How many times he was made to hold him down as Riko tortured him. How many distractions he had to create so the others wouldn’t notice the extent of his injuries, or to pull their attention away from poking at the weaknesses in Jean’s play. Kevin should be more than used to having Riko hurt the person he loves. He shouldn’t even flinch at it by this point.

But he’s been out of the Nest for over a year now, and almost every memory he has of Aaron is separate from Riko. Small blood like Kathy Ferdinand aside. Where Andrew is the constant, steady force that keeps Kevin propped up and moving forward even when all he wants to do is crumble, Aaron is the persistent patience that encourages him to let some of his guards down. To shrug off the weight the Nest left on his shoulders. To try and embrace his new freedoms. He has not needed those defences in the same way, has not been reinforcing them through practice, and so they have weakened. 

He didn’t think he would ever need them for Aaron. Aaron was never supposed to be tied up with Riko, was never supposed to be in the Nest. Bar marking him on the court, Aaron should never have been near Riko at all.

Nicky’s face grows serious at the mention of Aaron’s name. He steps closer to Kevin.

“What’s wrong with Aaron?”

“He wasn’t with Katelyn over the Christmas break. He was at the Nest.”

“What?” Matt and Nicky’s voices ring out in synchronicity. 

“Neil and Aaron both. I’ve-  Coach is on the phone. He can tell you better than I can.” Kevin sets the phone on the table between them as he doesn’t trust himself to keep a grip on it, putting it on speaker. 

“Coach? Is Aaron okay?” Nicky leans over the phone, like that will make Wymack answer faster. Matt leans forward beside him.

“Is Neil?”

Wymack gives them a summarised breakdown of what he told Kevin. He doesn’t mention the tattoo, but he warns them Neil won’t want to be fussed over, and not to ask about his eyes. He gives Nicky the latest update from Abby, the blood tests definitely showing some strong opioids, but also a mix of drugs she’s not entirely sure of. There’s reassurances that they will both be okay despite the fact they’re in rough form now. Kevin folds his arms tight across his chest as the other two babble down the phone, and turns his head away from the panicked concern on their faces. 

He’s glad they’re going back to Palmetto tomorrow. He’s barely slept the entire break, and he knows he won’t be able to settle until he finally sees Aaron and Neil again, until he can prove to himself they’re safe with the physical proof of their presence.

*

Kevin’s cheek is still throbbing from Matt’s punches as they make their way to Abby’s. Neil is driving, Nicky is in the back, and Kevin stares out the windscreen with hollow eyes. Once Nicky heard what happened and immediately contacted Aaron, Aaron made him promise to not get Andrew without him. Kevin isn’t sure if Aaron is really up for being away from campus yet, but Nicky had promised.

“I’ll wait in the car,” Neil says. “Give you space.”

He looks towards Kevin, but Kevin is already out of the car before he realises that Neil is probably expecting Kevin to wait with him. That it is Nicky he is giving space with Aaron to, not Kevin. He could pretend he just wants to stretch his legs, or he could act like he misunderstood and get back in the car. Kevin does neither. He ignores Nicky’s surprised look, and doesn’t even glance back to see what expression is on Neil’s face. He simply strides towards the building.

Kevin thought he was prepared after seeing how bad Neil looks, but his first glimpse of Aaron punches the air out of his chest. Kevin knows Aaron is, objectively, quite short, but he never really looks small. He looks so fucking small in Abby’s guest bed, his pale skin marked with cuts and bruises. Nowhere near the technicolour portrait of Neil’s skin, but bad enough. He’s paler than usual, even his lips drained of colour. His skin is damp with a layer of sweat, his eyes glassy and hollow. Kevin is frozen by the door as he takes him in, but Nicky rushes ahead.

“Oh, Aaron.” He catches Aaron’s face in his hands. It is telling of the state that Aaron is in that he doesn’t even fuss as Nicky puts a hand to his forehead, brushes his hair back, leans down to look in his eyes. “How are you feeling? Don’t say fine. I’ve already told Neil I can’t hear that today.”

“Like shit.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’d have tried to stop me.”

“Of fucking course I would have. God.” Nicky sniffs, the threat of tears evident in his voice. “Though Kevin told me why you went, so I know I wouldn’t have won that argument. I should have known you wouldn’t just change plans so last minute.”

Kevin finally gets his legs to work. He crosses the room and sinks into the chair beside the bed, across from where Nicky is hovering. Aaron’s eyes flick to him. His pupils are blown wide, dominating his eyes, only a ring of colour visible. A dull brown in the artificial light of the room. No sign of the usual kaleidoscope of colours Kevin knows exist in Aaron’s eyes. Kevin meets his gaze and can’t think of a single thing to say to encapsulate how he’s feeling. He puts his hand on Aaron’s bare forearm, careful not to overlap any of the bruises from needles. Kevin hopes at least some of them are from Abby, that they’re not all from the Nest. There’s a drip running into Aaron’s other arm. 

“Aaron.” His voice comes out hoarser than he expects. Aaron’s eyebrows lift, like he’s surprised Kevin is touching him in front of Nicky. Kevin can feel Nicky watching them, but he doesn’t give a fuck. He can’t. He’s been pushed past the edge of his fear. He’s been thrown into a situation only one step away from his worst case scenario, and Kevin can’t help but think how easily it could have been. One miscalculation, one bad reaction between drugs or from Aaron. People accidentally die from taking one too many paracetamol drinks when they have the cold. It would have been so easy for Riko to have unintentionally caused Aaron to overdose on whatever shit he was injecting him with.

“Hi.” Aaron’s face has been largely vacant since they entered the room, but after a delayed moment, he smiles at Kevin, his head lolling on the pillow towards him. “Look after Nicky for me?”

“Think I scarcely managed to look after myself.”

“Tch.” Aaron clicks his tongue disapprovingly. He moves his arm back until his palm is beneath Kevin’s instead. Kevin grasps Aaron’s hand in both of his.

“Uh. Excuse me? Am I the one who’s high?” 

Kevin glares disapprovingly at Nicky, but Aaron doesn’t look away from him, thumb rubbing over the back of Kevin’s knuckles. It’s selfish. Aaron is the one beaten and drugged in the bed, but here he is, comforting Kevin with his touch. The sheer relief of it enough to have Kevin almost sagging against the bedsheets beside him. 

“You’ll have to tell me about New York.” It’s not that Aaron doesn’t talk to Kevin. He does. Sometimes quite a lot, but it’s always when they’re alone, and his tone is never quite chatty like this. 

“Later. Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“I’m going,” Aaron says firmly. “Abby said I can.”

“I did, but he’ll have to come back here later. We’re still running a fluid drip. He was badly dehydrated when he got back, and he’s having trouble keeping even water down with all the vomiting.” Abby glances at Kevin’s hands around Aaron’s but doesn’t say anything, giving Kevin a small smile. She touches Nicky’s bicep reassuringly as she steps by him, then leans over Aaron. Unlike at the banquet, Aaron doesn’t flinch when Abby reaches for him this time. Either the instinct is blunted, or he’s used to Abby caring for him now.

She checks his pulse, takes his temperature, and removes the IV tube from his arm. She leaves the small plastic bit that it feeds into though. Aaron probably knows the name of it. Kevin will ask him later, because Aaron will enjoy telling him. 

“Am I going to live, doc?” Aaron grins at her. It’s not quite as manic as Andrew’s drugged smile, but it still sends a cold shiver down Kevin’s spine, because it’s not Aaron’s smile. Not any of the ones Kevin recognises, anyway. 

“If I have anything to say about it.” Abby smiles fondly, pinching Aaron’s chin. Nicky’s eyes move between them, eyebrows raised. 

“Is he still high?”

“Nicky,” Kevin hisses.

“It’s a fair question,” Abby says. “Yes. I’ve got him on a lower dose of a similar opioid to the one that showed up in his blood results. It’s helping with the pain of the other injuries, but mostly it’s to wean down the dose and stave off the worst of the withdrawal side effects.”

“Not getting rid of all of them though,” Aaron says. 

“Last dose was just shy of an hour ago, so you shouldn’t be too sick before you get back again. Might take a basin with you just in case.”

Aaron pulls a face, but he starts to push himself up in bed. He has to take his hand from Kevin to do so. Kevin clutches on for a second before realising what Aaron is trying to do and letting go. Nicky moves to help Aaron. 

“I’ve got it,” he says, but Nicky pulls the blanket down anyway. Aaron winces as he gets out of bed, in a way that suggests he’s trying very hard to hide it. “I need to get dressed.”

Abby takes her leave of the room. Nicky takes one step, then looks at the slow way Aaron is moving.

“Do you need help?”

Aaron glares at him.

“I’ll help,” Kevin says, waving Nicky towards the door. “No, seriously, what is happening here?” Nicky looks between them. Kevin meets Aaron’s eye. Nicky is his family, it’s not Kevin’s place. Aaron looks warily back at him. Kevin has always wanted to keep them secret. Aaron does not go against that promise.

“I’ll be out in a moment,” Aaron says.

“You’re just going to ignore me?”

“Go tell Abby about your trip. I bet it’s more pleasant to listen to than mine.”

Nicky’s frown deepens. He lingers, clearly not wanting to leave Aaron, but he’s been reaching out to the twins for long enough to know when his hand is going to get batted away. With one last curious glance towards Kevin, he leaves, clicking the door shut behind him.

“Should I not have said that?” 

“I don’t know. Should you?”

“Nicky is your family. It’s not my place.”

“Not your place to what?”

“Suggest… anything about you.”

“What would you be suggesting, Kevin?”

Kevin looks at Aaron, the space between his brows furrowing. Aaron looks back. He sighs. He starts to take his shirt off. Kevin steps around the bed.

“Here.” He catches the base of Aaron’s shirt and pulls it up slow, jaw tensing as he sees the old bruises littering Aaron’s torso. “You said he didn’t hurt you.”

“No. I said I was okay.” Aaron holds his arms up for Kevin to slide his shirt over them. He’s lost a noticeable amount of weight. “Besides, most of this wasn’t Riko. I think he was too busy with Neil. He sent others. I didn’t recognise them, so I don’t think they were Ravens. He must have got someone with medical knowledge. To get the dosage right. Most of this is from the start. He wanted me to inject myself. I wouldn’t do it. He didn’t like that. When he realised he couldn’t beat me into submission, he started on about Andrew again.”

“Then you did it.”

Aaron looks up at Kevin, his mouth pinched. Kevin can see the confirmation in his eyes.

“Then I guess I was too out of it after a while. Might have injected myself badly, or taken too much, or… I don’t know. They just came and administered it themselves after… I don’t even know. Time is weird in there. Felt longer.”

“It’s the days.”

“What?”

“The Nest runs on sixteen hour days.”

“Shit. I thought time was just moving different, with the drugs.”

“Sorry I didn’t message more. When you didn’t reply, I was worried they had your phone.”

“I think they did. I don’t really know. I remember bits, but I was out of it a lot. I think that helped. That I slept through most of it. Neil had a worse time.”

“Maybe. This is still bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you really going to be okay?” Kevin touches Aaron’s cheek. As soft as he can manage. Aaron leans more heavily into the touch, his lashes fluttering. He looks up through the pale fan of them at Kevin. 

“It’s going to suck, but I trust Abby. It will suck less than the first time.”

“The first time.”

“When Andrew got me clean. Right after our mom died. Locked me in the bathroom for days. Clawed my fingers raw against the door trying to get out. Was convinced I was gonna die in there.”

“Jesus, Aaron.”

“Abby’s doing it carefully. Weaning me off. Keeping me hydrated, monitoring my blood sodium levels. That’ll lower any potential risks of heart failure. Andrew might flip once he finds out she’s giving me drugs though. Don’t let him lash out at Abby, okay?”

“How can I stop him?”

“If you get between them, he’s less likely to hurt you.”

“He won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Aaron says. It’s a bizarre statement. Since he’s been at Palmetto, Kevin has seen Andrew lash out multiple times. He’s been a target, and Nicky is on frequent occasion, but never once has Andrew reached for Aaron. Yet Aaron sounds so unconvinced. 

“I’ll try,” Kevin says, because he knows it’s a lost cause trying to meddle in the twins’ relationship. “You’re shaking. Let’s get some clothes on you.”

“You don't have to- I can dress myself. I just thought this would give us a chance to speak with Nicky out of the room.”

“I want to,” Keivn says, navigating Aaron into his jumper. 

“You’re acting weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting like-” Aaron cuts off, turning his head away.

“Like what?”

“Like you actually like me,” Aaron says after a long moment. 

“Of course I like you.”

“Doesn’t seem like it. A lot of the time.” Aaron looks back to him, brow creased. Kevin frowns at him, both of them unhappy looking.

“Why would we be doing this if I didn’t like you?”

“I don’t know. You like the attention. Like having someone take care of you.”

“Is that what you really think?” When Aaron shrugs, Kevin sighs.

“Can you blame me? You act like you don’t even want to know me half times, now you’re all over me. I’m getting whiplash.”

“I was so scared I was going to lose you,” Kevin admits, looking at Aaron’s chest so he doesn’t have to meet his eyes. “I thought if anyone knew, Riko would target you. I thought it was for the best. Then he got you anyway, and all I could think for the last few weeks is what if you don’t come back? What if you’re gone, and we didn’t even part on good terms? You die resenting me and I don’t even get to say goodbye?”

“I don’t resent you, Kevin.”

“You thought I didn’t even care about you. Why do you do this if you think that?”

“Because I care about you,” Aaron says simply. “Thought that much was obvious. I tried not to, and it didn’t work. I can’t turn it off. So I’m stuck settling for whatever you give me.”

“You shouldn’t have to settle.”

“You were never willing to give more. I couldn’t push you.”

“I can’t pretend anymore. I couldn’t even wait in the car. I had to see you.” 

Aaron’s face twitches. The briefest hint of a smile. He puts his hands on Kevin’s shoulders. Kevin crouches down immediately so Aaron’s arms can go around his neck, hugging him to his chest. He’s gentle with his grip, not wanting to aggravate any of Aaron’s injuries. Aaron has no qualms in response, tightening his arms around Kevin, clutching to him. His cheek is clammy where it presses against Kevin’s. His body is shaking against him. His hair smells sickly; sweaty, but not how Aaron’s sweat usually smells. Something acrid and bitter to it. 

“We should go. I don’t want Andrew to be waiting.”

Kevin helps Aaron finish changing, making a mental note of any other marks on his skin. When they’re done, Abby wraps a blanket around Aaron’s shoulders and gives Nicky a basin to take with them. She hands Kevin a bottle of water, tells him to try and get Aaron to keep taking sips. Nicky sits in the back with Aaron. Kevin wants to stay near him, but he gets in the front. At the hospital, he sits beside Neil when Aaron collapses into a single chair, awkwardly trying to extend some comfort to him. He’s already been honest with Aaron today. Listening to Neil talk about Riko should be easy in comparison. Neil thanks him by throwing the knowledge that Wymack is his father back at him, which is very in character for Neil. Kevin’s spared any further discussion about it by Andrew’s appearance. 

Andrew’s cool glance drifts across them all, but Kevin notices as it lands on Aaron his eyes widened fractionally, and his look lingers for several seconds longer than anyone else. He says nothing. Kevin’s stomach clenches painfully. I don’t know about that, Aaron had said. Is it because he knows what Andrew off his meds completely is like? Did he know Andrew wouldn’t spare him a second glance?

Aaron is the first to move, heaving himself painfully out of the chair. He had wanted to come. Even as sick as he is. He had wanted to be here for Andrew, and Andrew doesn’t so much as say hello. Kevin steps up beside him when they get to the car. Andrew’s gaze dips over him in a bored inspection. 

“You’re not even going to check if Aaron’s-” 

Andrew flicks his fingers in dismissal, and Kevin, always the obedient fucking dog regardless the master, can only nod and go get in the car. Aaron reaches forward from the seat behind his and gives the back of his neck a firm squeeze. His hands are always cold, but they’re freezing today. Kevin reaches up and catches Aaron’s hand before he withdraws it fully, rubbing his fingertips between his own until they warm up some. Aaron tugs his hand away when Andrew gets in the car. 

They’re sent up to the dorm when they return, Andrew keeping Nicky behind. Aaron survived the car ride, but he’s starting to get nauseated again. He immediately collapses on the couch when they get in, making a soft, sick moaning sound. Kevin moves him so his head is resting on Kevin’s thigh and tries to encourage him to drink from the water bottle, holding it up to his lips so Aaron can take small sips. Aaron pushes it away. Kevin has tugged Nicky’s throw blanket from the back of the couch down over Aaron and is carding his fingers through his hair when the dorm door bursts open. 

“I did not believe you to be stupid,” Andrew says. Aaron doesn’t stir in response. Kevin starts to open his mouth, but Andrew holds up a warning finger. “Not you.”

“Oh, are you actually talking to me for once?”

“You went to Evermore.”

“Yeah. I’d have told you as much if you had asked.” Aaron starts to sit up. Andrew’s eyes flick between him and Kevin, but he seems to prioritise this over questioning their closeness.

“Go and get Neil,” he says to Kevin. Kevin looks warily at Aaron. Aaron gives a small nod, so he leaves him. He can hear Andrew’s voice as he leaves the dorm, Aaron’s raising in response, but their words are lost when the door closes behind him. Nicky’s already at Neil’s door, so Kevin takes that to mean he was just being dismissed. This is confirmed when he tries to follow Neil into the dorm again only for Andrew to close the door in his face.

“Well,” Nicky says. “We may go elsewhere for a while.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Kevin leans against the wall across from the door, taking his phone out. “Aaron needs to go back to Abby’s soon. I’ll see if she can come pick him up. Andrew doesn’t seem in the mood to offer lifts.”

“You’re very concerned about Aaron.” It is an obvious prompt coming from Nicky, but he’s left disappointed, because Kevin says nothing in response. Eventually Nicky sighed. “Let me know when he’s back at Abby’s. I’ll check in on him tonight.”

*

Neil eventually come out of the dorm, Andrew behind him. Kevin has slid down to sit on the floor, his head resting back against the wall. He moves to stand. Andrew settles him with an unrecognisably cold glare. Kevin has never been subject to a look like that from Andrew.

“You let him go.” 

Kevin’s gaze slides to Neil even though he knows that isn’t who Andrew is talking about. Perhaps he just wants someone else to defend him if Andrew is abandoning the position. Before Kevin can answer, Aaron comes rushing out the door. His hair is sticking to his clammy forehead and he’s gone extremely pale, but he plants himself between Kevin and Andrew. 

“Kevin didn’t let me do anything. You may act liks his keeper, but he’s not mine. He has no control over what I do.”

Andrew’s eyes narrow, flicking between the pair of them. Aaron squared his shoulders as if he does not currently look like a strong breeze could take him out. Andrew huffs, inclining his head for Neil to keep on walking. He holds Kevin’s gaze for several long seconds as he walks down the hall, before eventually turning away. Aaron sags back against Kevin once they’re out of sight. 

“I’m calling Abby.”

“Mm.”

*

Aaron was right. Andrew does not take well to the news Abby is still dosing him with drugs. She is firm with her explanation why, and when she explains the risk of fatal complications from going cold turkey, Andrew goes still. He does not argue further after that.

Kevin thought he might put him out of Aaron’s room, but he doesn’t. Abby has told him he can stay or visit as much as he likes.

“But no drinking, Kevin. I’m already putting one of my Foxes through rehab. I don’t need to deal with another. If you want to come see him, you do it sober.”

Kevin agrees, even though he desperately wants a drink. He wants to go burn himself out on the court too, but he wants to see Aaron more. 

“I’m just sleeping most of the time. You don’t have to stay.”

But Kevin does. He sleeps with his head resting on folded arms at the side of Aaron’s bed. Sometimes he wakes up with Aaron’s fingers pushed through his hair. He rubs Aaron’s back when he throws up, helps him wash up and change when the cold sweats soak through his clothes, feeds him soup when the shakes in his hands make it difficult to hold the spoon. It is evident Aaron does not take easily to be fussed over, but he accepts it as an inevitability of his care plan, and only pushes back against Kevin minimally. 

“What do you call this?” Kevin touches a finger to Aaron’s arm near where his IV is running into the skin.

“IV.”

“No. This bit specifically.”

“Cannula.” Aaron doesn’t quite smile, but his eyes crease slightly. 

Kevin uses Nicky or Andrew’s visits to go and clean up himself, though he’s got a bag with his own spare clothes at Abby’s now for when he wants to stay, and she grants him free access to her bathroom. He stays through Katelyn’s visits, pettily territorial as if she has not been helping cover for them at Kevin’s request all year. He doesn’t get in the way, sitting back to let them catch up, and he replies as pleasantly as he can manage when Katelyn includes him in the conversation. 

Slowly Aaron starts to look better bit by bit, his injuries clearing up. Though his withdrawals get worse as Abby lowers his drug dose. Kevin lays behind him on the bed as his body trembles, curled around him, trying to press his own warmth into Aaron.

“I hate you seeing me like this.”

“You’ve seen me in worse states,” Kevin says. Aaron sniffs. Kevin presses a kiss to the back of his head. “Through sickness and health. Or whatever.”

“We’re not married,” Aaron says, but he still laughs, which is all Kevin really wanted, his fingers tangling with Kevin’s where his hands are wrapped around Aaron’s, warming them. Aaron laughs, and they’re okay, and he’s going be okay. He’s going be okay and Kevin is never, ever going to let anyone take Aaron from him again. 

[stylecouncil]

ignore your lame anon and tell me some fun facts about that mormon guy

how dare you call him that mormon guy but I’ll ignore it because I love you. hunky dory is his mission. that’s one of the fun facts he said he found hunky dory at 19 and never went on a mission trip, so that was his mission. his parents met in a trailer park. he moved to a town with no stoplight when he was 9 but ran off back to vegas when he was 16 and got a fake id. his father was an alcoholic from a long line of alcoholics who his mom would take brandon with her to look for drunk in casinos but stopped drinking when he converted to mormonism (so there are layers here). he used to say he gets angry when he sees happy college students and he still gets a bit of an ache about it because it was never an option for him. he was a fat kid who got called a fag and felt completely out of place. andy of andy you’re a star fame is a real person he went to school with. he used to religiously read every morrissey and noel gallagher interview he could get his hands on. he stole morrissey demos from morrisseys guitarists bag when he was a bellhop. he kept the teacup morrissey drank out of when he came into the restaurant he worked at. he stalked morrissey for an entire night at a hotel while morrissey knew what he was doing the entire time. his first band was a synth pop band called blush response with a guy named trevor he met at a golf course job who he felt like was one of the first people he ever truly clicked with. they bonded over morrissey and depeche mode and the pet shop boys erasure etc they used to dye each others hair black. and when brandon was kicked out of the band and trevor moved to la with his girlfriend he almost drank himself to death. seeing don’t look back in anger at the hard rock in a show he only managed to get into at the last minute because someone handed him their ticket as they were leaving was what made him think he could really do it and that he wanted to be in a guitar band specifically. he hates any oasis song not written by noel. he made lou reed laugh by showing him that perfect day has the same chord progression as perfect day when they were recording tranquilize. he said every emo band needed to be beaten to death and never took pete wentz up on his offer to get sushi. his teeth were all falling out by the time he we like 26. he used to have to drink to get through every show. sam’s town is a real casino and he said it was like a beacon on the road from the trailer park where his parent were from that showed you were getting some place, you were getting to the city soon. he used to sleep on a morrissey pillowcase. he met his wife at a vegas thrift store and her cptsd has factored into his writing quite a lot. he almost fired that one annoying lorde producer that isn’t jack antonoff but almost as annoying 4 times while making the desired effect (I feel like you might appreciate this one idk why). he references a paul simon song in caution by the killers (another one for you). he’s notoriously tactless and mouthy and has tried to tone it down sometime after sam’s town because it became all that people could say about him (alt rock azealia banks) but it’s not really entirely worked (partially because a lot of that is just….him despite what he says so it hasn’t gone away but) it just got replaced with harping on the mormon thing despite him kind of being theologically all over the place with that in reality/seemingly clinging to it in name etc for a multitude of complicated reasons. he almost got an oasis tattoo as a teenager. he called hunky dory a working class album. uhhhhh I think he’s very interesting and a bundle of contradictions in the best way and funny and one of our last great frontmen who is also a great and varied songwriter. is that enough fun facts some of these aren’t fun. he’s been saving his beard trimmings in a plastic ziplock bag for years to give to neil tennant of pet shop boys fame.

[swcctbitter]

[  olivia rodrigo,  demi woman,  she / they,  muse 20,  billie eilish  ] welcome  to  excesstv,  LUSIA “LULU” AMOR DE LUNA  —  or  should  i  say  the  dreamer  ?  …  a  quick  google  search  tells  me  you’re  a  TWENTY - TWO  year  old  MUSICIAN who’s worth $53 MILLION DOLLARS.  you've  called  avalon  home  for  THREE YEARS,  however  something  tells  me  there’s  more  to  you  than  a  flashy  resume  and  penthouse  17A  on  your  door  ?  it  seems  you’ve  managed  to  earn  a  reputation  around  the   city   for  being  ESCAPIST,  yet,  upon  further  investigation  it  seems  you're  also  quite  INNOVATIVE.  but  hey,  thats  the  kind  of  mix  that  keeps  people  guessing.  i'm  sure�� as  a  PISCES  you're  used  to  people  commenting  on  your  DALBEN GIOELLI AQUAMARINE RING  /  an elegy for the lost, jamming to songs alone in your room, angel statues over graves, dream pop music playing from another room, the cycle of necrosis.  but  still  we  can't  wait  to  watch  you  flourish  (  or  fail  )  these  next  few  weeks  …  

╰ * STATS.

tw : familial abuse , hospitalization, incarceration + mental illness.

it’s a strange feeling, knowing who you are from a young age. most people spend their lives searching for something to call theirs and theirs alone, but lusia always knew what she was: a musician. and more, what she wants to do —— study the music, gut it from the inside out, inspect the innards and surround herself in the gore. it isn’t the future that her parents have tailored for her, but there is little that anyone can do to convince her that it is an ill-met fate. music threads through her veins and makes her heart beat. without it, she is bereft. so, too beloved by her family for them to deny her, the de luna's change their idea of what lulu’s life will look like.

at the tender age of eight, her parents find their marriage collapsing and her mother scoops her and her brother up and relocates them from the small village of ruidoso, new mexico to albuquerque. still, even in a bigger city, her dad coins her as a music savant by the time she's thirteen, putting her in a small rivalry with her step - father, neil, who tirelessly vies for her mother's attention that is won out by lulu or her older brother joaquin. she is frequently seen with her nose in a book discussing music theory or music history, and for her fourteenth birthday she is gifted her very first ukulele after begging and pleading for months on end. she is seldom seen not clutching a fretboard, mastering the craft with steadfast dedication. although it isn’t what they envisioned for her, she has represented more than most do when it concerns discipline, audaciousness and tenacity. and who better knows that than her own brother?

he supports her at every football game she plays xylophone in and lifts her high on his shoulders, parading her around like his own trophy, and she doesn't mind at all. especially when she gets into her spats with neil. once, when he dares to strike her across the cheek after finding her crawling through her bedroom window with a girl, joaquin does nothing but watch as she takes his baseball bat and slams it into the hood of neil's precious trans am, which does land her in juvie for six months. joaquin's even still there when she receives her bipolar diagnosis from a psychiatrist while in police custody. upon release, reintegrating into teen society is difficult. far more difficult than the strict routine of juvie and the numbing medications they'd force feed her inside —— but when she comes home, joaquin reminds her of her love of music, how it's always been a surefire escape, so that's exactly what they plunge themselves into.

this time, together. they start out slow, with minimally produced tracks mostly utilizing bass guitar and piano. however, the more they create, the deeper the dedication sinks its roots within them. they keep going. days off are nonexistent, all they know is the music. it becomes them. and after she releases her debut single in 2017 at the brilliant age of sixteen, they begin to realize that what's consumed them is beginning to engulf everyone else. it's a tailspin from there on out. mere months after the release of her breakthrough song, she and joaquin craft an excellent ep that receives critical acclaim. she isn't certain what to do with herself at first; the adrenaline rush from the constant stream of attention quickly becomes addicting, but she's reminded too soon that their work is not yet done.

when the time comes, she heralds a debut album that garners her praise from everyone she's ever wanted to impress, including the motherfuckin' grammy's, of which she wins three her first year nominated in the four main categories. she tentatively embarks on a tour, loses her mind slightly, cowers for a few months and painstakingly crafts a song for a blockbuster movie that earns her an oscar for best original song. in the years since, she's ebbed and flowed between tumultuous relationships and evaded the spotlight whenever she can, for her own wellbeing. after releasing two more albums, one while living in the avalon, she's decided to take a small break and indulge in something different. something like... a reality tv show.

[new-revenant]

Mirror World of Mine AU art hoopla! It’s the Lunch Lady scene but it’s uh different. Danny’s basically saying that only he has the capability to defeat the Lunch Lady. I have a story bit under the cut. This is making me want to write a whole fic for this AU. Anyways, if you don’t know anything about this AU, just look at my previous posts about it under the MWofM AU tag. This is a magic AU. Neil is this AU Danny. Regular Danny also exists in this AU. Possession ieskai. You read that right.

After Neil had darted to the bathroom after the “garbage fight” he managed to start, Sam and Tucker barely had a moment to settle down before the temperature in the cafeteria started to plummet.

“Brr, since when did it get so cold?” Sam asked, shivering. Tucker shrugged, shivering as well.

“Maybe some garbage got in the AC?” Tucker suggested.

“It’s not garbage-“ Sam started before being abruptly cut off by a screech coming from the kitchen. Everyone in the cafeteria started looking over toward the noise, and promptly started panicking. Did they even notice the wind that came from nowhere? And that it started to swirl over to the kitchen? Sam and Tucker noticed.

“Sam, I think we might have a,” -Tucker leaned closer to Sam to whisper- “we might have a ghost problem.”

“Hopefully the ghost doesn’t show up psychically,” Sam whispered back.

Then the ghost appeared. A sweet looking lunch lady, clad with pink clothes and a white apron, seeming rather confused.

“Hello dearies, I’ve noticed that there isn’t any meatloaf, even though it was supposed to be served today, according to the menu,” the Lunch Lady asked quite calmly.

“Well it was going to be served until someone changed the menu,” Tucker glared at Sam, who responded with a huff.

Then the ghost’s appearance shifted. She got bigger, and her white hair outside of her cap burst into flames.

Green flames surrounded her body as she yelled, “WHO CHANGED THE MENU?!”

“You just had to tell her didn’t you?” Sam hissed through gritted teeth.

“What was I supposed to say?” Tucker asked.

“Nothing! Say nothing!”

“THE MENU HAS BEEN THE SAME FOR 50 YEARS!” The Lunch Lady continued. She growled as a green vortex appeared above her.

“We’re done for!” Someone yelled. Sam and Tucker could only agree with that sentiment-they had no idea how to deal with a ghost. Maybe if Sam actually bothered to learn more about her psychic powers, and if Tucker knew anything about supernatural creatures that aren’t vampires or werebeasts, maybe, just maybe they could’ve done something. And it looked like Sam was going to be the Lunch Lady’s first target, as the ghost pointed a fist of green at her.

“WERE YOU THE ONE TO CHANGE THE MENU?!” The Lunch Lady questioned.

“Um, maybe?” Sam smiled nervously. That was apparently a good enough answer for the Lunch Lady to lift one of nearby tables to throw at her.

A haunting laughter sounded out from every corner of the room. The Lunch Lady paused, lowering the table. The air seemed to still for a moment, returning to the same calm of before. Sam gave a sigh of relief before remembering the laughter.

A figure phased up through the middle of the floor. Another ghost, a boy that looked around her age. His lower face was covered by a white cloak that enveloped his entire body, only the toes of his white boots poking out from under it.

“It isn’t very professional to attack students lady,” the new ghost told the Lunch Lady with much more confidence in his voice then anyone else would have in this situation.

“Well someone changed the menu,” the Lunch Lady responded.

“The same menu that was in place for 50 years? How awful.” The new ghost seemed to know about the menu then. Or he was just listening in.

“Yes! You understand me then!”

“Oh I understand. I understand that you’re putting your anger onto innocent students!”

The oppressive air returned with the Lunch Lady’s anger, “LUNCH IS SACRED, LUNCH HAS RULES, HOW DARE YOU DEFILE IT’S IMPORTANCE!”

The new ghost just laughed. He clasped his hands together, and shaped a giant, odd looking scythe out of ice in mear seconds.

“I don’t think I’m defiling lunch’s importance, I’m just standing up for these kids.” The new ghost said. He stuck the end of his scythe into the floor and floated to stand on top of tip of it. He looked over to Sam and Tucker specifically, looking between the two before his bright green eyes settled on Sam. Sam looked back, but couldn’t bare to look him in the eyes. She focused on his white hair, which had a golden sheen on the tips of it.

“I think we’re all aware that without me, Danny Phantom,“ -the ghost-Danny Phantom-threw his hands out flamboyantly, unveiling the green coloring of the inside of the cloak- “You wouldn’t have a GHOST of a chance~“ He cackled after saying that, whether it because of his pun of for some other reason.

“Now let’s get this haunt on the road!” Danny pulled out the ice scythe from the floor and launched himself at the Lunch Lady, and the fight began.

Both Sam and Tucker wished they went to bathroom like Neil did.

[emailsfromanactor]

The final Email from an Actor went out today. But (thanks in large part to my procrastination skills) there's more to come here! I'll be back soon with the rest of the Hamlet-cast-in-musicals posts, and I'll keep posting/reblogging relevant things if they come up. And for now, here are some quotes from an article about The Motive and the Cue that I linked to once before:

I’ve tracked down Sterne, at 81 one of the few cast members left to tell the tale. Far from thinking of Hamlet as a debacle, though, he proclaims it “the thrill of a lifetime”. He recalls the total hysteria that engulfed mid-Manhattan during the first night in New York, attended by a roll-call of illustrious names including Bob Fosse, Lillian Gish, Dudley Moore, Paul Newman and Neil Simon.  “There was the great terror of getting out of the theatre after the performance,” he says. “Thousands of people filled the block of West 46th Street from Broadway to Eighth Avenue, hoping to catch a glimpse of Burton and Taylor.” Police guarded the Lunt-Fontanne and the cast had to wait for “Dickenliz” to leave “to avoid getting trampled”.

...

Sterne, who was in all the rehearsals, witnessed the toll this hoopla took on Burton. “Richard was very friendly, down to earth with everyone, including the stage-door man. But one moment he would be exuberant and happy, the next he would be depressed about what was going on.” Drink was a crutch. Booze lay within easy reach not least because the production was sponsored by J&B Scotch. “They gave us endless bottles,” Sterne marvels. “Richard could down a whole one during a performance.” But if his delivery could be erratic, that was also the way he conceived the role. As Sterne explains: “He would change his movements and readings constantly because he felt that this was part of the ‘rehearsal’ concept.”

...

That sets Burton nominally in the same camp as some of the American malcontents, chief among them Redfield, whom [costume designer Jane] Greenwood remembers as a trouble-maker: “He was a bastard! He wanted everything his way. I think he wanted to play Hamlet.”

On the one hand, how dare Greenwood be mean to our boy Bill. On the other hand, as you may recall from an early Redfield email...

[Gielgud] shook hands cordially, popped a mint into his mouth, and then asked a surprising question: “Now, then—which part would you like to play in Hamlet?” I stopped myself from saying “Hamlet” and said “Laertes.”

And back to the article:

Sterne offers me one small but telling instance of the transatlantic rift: “Fortinbras – Michael Ebert – came onstage and started doing a mime of looking off and getting angry. Gielgud said ‘Michael, what is that you’re doing when you come on?’ Michael said, ‘Well Sir John, I’m trying to establish that I don’t like Claudius. He said, ‘But my dear boy, there isn’t time for any of that. Just say the words and get on with it!’ ”

...

“We were tremendously in awe of Sir John,” Sterne insists. “Everyone would mainly listen to what he had to say, and Richard was grateful for all his suggestions.”

I'm so glad we got to hear a little bit more from Sterne, all these years later.

[beezusvreeland]

a very good idea - chapter 7

summary: After your boyfriend cheats on you at a party, you break up with him, who tells you nobody else is willing to be with you like him. You decide to prove him wrong, with a little help from a new friend.

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader

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Chapter 7

In sixth grade, you were learning about NASA’s Apollo Missions in history class. All the steps that were necessary for man to finally land on the moon. Right around that time, the movie First Man , starring Ryan Gosling as astronaut Neil Armstrong, was released in theaters. So, your teacher recommended that the class should go watch it if you had the chance. 

Your classmates quickly organized a group outing, so the class could go to the movies together. Technically, everyone was invited: it was a friday night with no parent’s supervision affair. When you asked your mother for permission, she obviously said no. 

You did try to reason with her, but the thing about your mom is that she was facing a bigger challenge in dealing with Jenna, who was at high school at the time. If she could handle the rebellious “I will pierce my tongue and become a nomad” (and she actually did, which you thought was surreal) sister, she could say no to you without any regrets. Your mother did, however, promise you she would take you and Jenna to watch the movie during the weekend. 

“You’re lucky this movie has Ryan Gosling in it”, Jenna complained, giving you a dirty look.

The friday your class was going out was very weird. Feeling left out wasn’t uncommon for you, but the excitement of your colleagues made you feel like you were missing out on something special. 

During lunch, you were walking with your tray through the cafeteria when you saw that the big table in the center of it was taken with the majority of kids in your class. You headed their way, since there were so many people, surely no one would mind your presence. You were wrong. 

“Wait, what do you think you’re doing?”, asked Dana D’Angelo, a brunette with a perfect bob and a ballerina posture. 

You were sliding your legs between the bench and the table, the contents on your tray a little messed up from the movement. You had almost dropped it a moment earlier, your lunch was saved by none other than Miguel O’Hara, who was seated on the other side of the table. It was so quick you didn’t have the chance to say thanks.

“I’m sitting to have lunch”, your voice was squeaky and low and you hated yourself for it. Dana had always been a very confident girl, and could be very intimidating when she wanted to. Like right then:

“Are you going with us tonight?”

“No…my mother didn’t allow me to.”

Dana raised an eyebrow and gave you a fake smile. 

“Well, this table is only for people who are going to the movies, so…”

That hit you with the force of a thousand daggers. Tears started forming inside your eyes almost immediately. You looked around and your colleagues all remained quiet, most of them avoiding your gaze — including Miguel. 

***

“May…May May May”, Hobbie sang with his eyes closed. “Pete, please tell your aunt that if she wasn’t already married, I’d be your uncle.”

“She’ll love to hear…wait, what?”, Peter looked disgusted. “I bring you pie and you unlock a new fear in me, Hobbard!”

You, Gwen and Miles laugh. Lunch time was quickly becoming one of your favorite times of the school day. Miguel’s friends always made you feel welcomed. No pretending or trying to impress: they were playful, funny and were comfortable with each other in a way you’ve only experienced in your own friendship with Jess. 

Hobbie had a smirk on his face: “It’s uncle Hobbie for you, mate”. 

“Ew, no! You wouldn’t dare”, Peter shook his head, as if trying to erase the mere idea of it all out of his head.

“I mean…if it moves, Hobbie will flirt with it. Human or not”, Miles pointed. “Isn’t that right, Miguel?”

You looked behind you to find Miguel, opening a gatorade bottle and taking a sip. 

“Hobbard can charm the pants off of a wall”, he said, sitting down by your side. Even Peter laughed at that. 

“I’m a free spirit, mate, I’m open to all experiences.”

“That’s what they are calling it these days, huh”, Gwen said.

“You know it, love.”

Gwen rolled her eyes and turned to you.

“I hate it when Jess has lunch with her athlete friends. She is the only one who can tame him”, your friend said. 

“Oh, he wishes”, you made her laugh. “All good for tonight?”

“Yeah…your sister is a life saver, by the way. That purple jacket is really something.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jenna loves thrifting and owes me a lifetime of favors. 7pm at Jess’s?”

Gwen nodded. 

“Deal.”

You feel a gentle poke at your waist. That was…new. 

“What are you girls up to?”, Miguel asked, a lazy smile on his lips.

“We’re getting ready for the party together”, you looked to your right, to make sure Gwen didn’t hear you. “Gwen needs a bit of a morale boost.”

“Is she ok?”, his eyebrows creased. “Did she say anything?”

“She didn’t have to.”

“Oh…right”, Miguel scratched his head. “Thank God we have you.” His eyes immediately gave away the fact it had slipped his tongue. “¡Ay, coño! I mean, she has you and…”, he tried to fix it.

“Well, you are lucky to have me, O’Hara”, you teased, a burning sensation going through your body. 

He studied you, his eyes filled with amusement and maybe a hint of lust. 

“Now, tell me…”, Miguel whispered as he put a lock of your hair behind your ear, but his hand remained, twisting your hair with his fingers. “You’re very giving to your friends…but what about your boyfriend?”

You had full body chills. And felt so out of breath you didn’t realize that you were squeezing your thighs together.

“I asked you a question, cariño”, he nudged his nose on your cheek. 

Your hands grasped the hem of his sweatshirt. Miguel had his lips parted and his eyes closed. He seemed just as affected, if not more, by the whole interaction as you. That emboldened you to turn and whisper in his ear, your voice in a tone you didn’t recognize: “He will have to work for it”. 

You gave him a kiss on the cheek, just as the bell started ringing. You grabbed your things and got up, fixing your hair.

“See you tonight, everybody.”

Miguel’s eyes were widened in a pained expression. As you walked away, trusting your body to lead where you needed to go, the thoughts inside of your head went wild. You were feeling a lot, from excitement to curiosity. The world might've ended and you wouldn’t know. For those few moments, you were somewhere else with Miguel, a place that belonged only to the two of you.

How could life ever go back to normal after that?

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<< chapter 6

>> chapter 8

all chapters

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a very good idea playlist

[biillyhargroves]

listen i know we’ve talked about heather & billy being each other’s beards but please consider billy & robin agreeing to be one another’s beards.

hear me out: billy and steve and robin all chilling at the harrington house. lounging by the pool. a little tipsy. robin is telling steve and billy all about how she feels like an absolute disaster around girls, just cannot get her shit together, gets way too nervous and flustered and fucks up every time she so much as attempts to flirt. and there’s a school dance coming up! and her parents want her to go! have been pressuring her to put herself out there! enjoy her high school experience! but she has no one to go with. she’s all stressed because she wants to please her parents but she’s too scared to ask anyone — guy or girl — to go with her, platonically or otherwise. and it’s steve to the rescue, “why doesn’t billy take you?”

“are you whoring me out to your friends now?” billy teases, and steve makes a very valid point that taking out robin would at least get billy out of the house for the night. he also points out that putting on a show, going out with a pretty girl, might keep paternal suspicions at bay. neil hargrove isn’t stupid, after all, and steve and billy have almost been caught enough times to have them worried. billy takes all of this in and shrugs. “sure, fine, it’s a date.”

at the dance, robin is longing after…someone. maybe vickie, or nancy, or heather. billy tries to get her to go talk to the girl and she shuts him down. he doesn’t push, but he does actively demonstrate his flirting skills. the arm around the shoulders. softening his voice. leaning in so it feels like the room falls away and it’s just the two of them.

and robin demands that he teach her more, because holy shit, she does not want to be with a man one bit but there was a split second there where billy was zeroed in on her that she felt the inexplicable urge to jump his bones and how does he do that??? “be my yoda,” she demands, and do their fake relationship begins. he flirts with her. she flirts back. he gives her pointers. meanwhile, the entire school is flabbergasted. they simply do not run in the same circles and it does not make sense but everyone’s too afraid to ask them about it or say anything because billy will end anyone who dares say anything remotely bad about robin. that’s his fake girlfriend and he will defend her honor, dammit.

plus! think of how they could torment steve. constantly berating him for being mean to their boyfriend/girlfriend. both of them play-flirting with him when they think he feels left out. making up fake inside jokes that make no sense and refusing to let steve in on them because it’s funny to watch his face get all red. it’s all good fun, and steve knows it, and he loves them both so of course he lets them have their fun. it was his idea, anyway, and they never fail to remind him of that.

[dayurno]

hii i just finished ur baby kevin fic and i love how you write!! like genuinely u described things so well and ur characterization was so on point as well as being sooo funny and sweet :) ur voice and love for kevin really came thru. thank u so much such a delightful fic im totally gonna binge read the rest of ur stuff <3

AHH THANK YOU!!!!! something that i really kept thinking to myself as i was rereading babykevin fic is that for a fic where (the adult) kevin is hardly present, it really feels like a love letter 2 kevin day in my head..... perhaps its because neil is fond of him and you can tell through his narration or something else altogether, but i think this fic is easily one of the most loving ive written about kevin.......... i couldnt show more of my hand if i tried.... im even a little embarrassed

“The evil creature that was making him so scared was actually…” Neil pauses for emphasis, “...a dog. It was a big one. We’re not sure how it got into the Foxhole Court in the first place, but this person, this simple person, who only had bad memories of getting bitten by a dog as a child, was unwilling to cross this dog’s path so he could go home.” [...] He swipes his thumb under Kevin’s eye; a soft motion. “We did. Of course we did. We teased him the entire way home about it, but that’s the point, isn’t it? We still went back for him. We still sent the dog away.”

IM REALLY not sure if its the idea of their dynamic mellowed down to what a child can understand but i think there has never been dialogue (written by me!) so loving about kevin day before... im not sure. i was overcome by my fondness of him when i wrote it i suppose

“His food is really terrible, though. Nothing like what Andrew makes you. You’d have to pretend to like it.” “Why eat it if it’s bad?” Kevin asks, looking more and more curious about his older self the longer Neil talks about him. Neil is not surprised to think that he could do this for much longer. The ache of missing Kevin subdues when it is shared aloud. “Well, because he goes through all the trouble of making it for you, so how could you dare not eat it?” He crouches down to be Kevin’s height, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “And sometimes, if you give him critique, he’ll go try to fix it right away. Last time I said it was a bit stale, and he added so much salt I had to cough out the rest.” Kevin hesitates. “Was it better?” “No. God, no, it was worse. Stale was a compliment; it was too salty.” “But… you ate it.” “I suppose I did,” Neil agrees. He really had — scraped his bowl clean, too. Choked it down like a man, much to Andrew’s chagrin. “He put in a lot of work. It’d be a waste if I didn’t eat it. And, well, whatever. I wanted him to be happy with himself.”

like :-) anyway sorry about this all its just that you saying this really made me want to talk about it..... i fear everyone is going to know im fond of kevin day now...

[sleepyfoxbooks]

Good Omens

By Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman

A little note beforehand:

@neil-gaiman has been my favorite author since I read The Graveyard Book as a kid. Reading Good Omens as an adult really made the whole experience feel like it was coming full circle. Twice now, he has inspired my reading hyper-fixation. So, thank you for giving your work to the world.

I finished this book before I started this blog, but I felt it deserves to be here. I almost immediately let my coworker borrow it so I can’t give direct quotes and page numbers.

Onto the review!

⚠️Warning! Contains spoilers for Season One of the show and the book! ⚠️

Overall this book is amazing! There were so many times I found myself smiling like an idiot in the airport reading this story. Reading lines in the book at are used verbatim in the show made me feel like I was in on some little secret. I’m gonna get into more detail, separated by the three storylines.

Adam Young & Them

So in the book, there is a long running joke that Elvis Presley isn’t dead and works at a little burger joint in Des Moines. Death even says during his run in the trivia game that he never touched Elvis. I found this absolutely hilarious and sometimes wished the line was in the show. It made me kinda happy to read about a fat Elvis just lovin’ life flippin’ burgers.

Now Greasy Johnson isn’t in the show at all. He’s apparently the extra baby from the Chattering Order that was adopted (Which was kinda relieving). So in the book Johnson is the leader of the rival gang of children to The Them. I loved this motif in the book, comparing the childhood scuffles between the two groups of kids to the war of heaven and hell. It gave a level of pettiness to the armageddon debacle. Having Adam explain to his friends the never ending struggle between Them and Greasy Johnson in equivalence to the literal world-ending war that is heaven and hell was kinda brilliant. I understand this part of the story not being in the show, but at the same time I think the added complexity of the rival gang would’ve been interesting to see on screen.

Ok in the book, we get a lot more of Dog’s thoughts, and they’re kinda adorable. Dog just loves being a dog! And I love reading about it. By the time armageddon is at their doorstep, he doesn’t want it either. Dog’s whole journey kinda added this extra layer of charm to the story.

The Witchfinder & The Witch

I love the descriptions for this storyline. Pulsfier and Anathema have such wonderful and dare I say accurate descriptions of their characters in the book. If you read this book in 1990 when it came out, you could picture these two perfectly.

During the scene where Anathema meets Crowley and Aziraphale via car crash Anathema has the best thought. She’s at fist kinda wary of these two strange men in the dark, but when Crowley calls Aziraphale “angel” she’s immediately like “oh! They’re gay!🏳️‍🌈”. Of course this book did come out in the 90’s so she didn’t say that explicitly.

An added difference between the show and the book that was for the better, was changing Madam Tracy’s spirit guide. In the book her spirit guide is Geronimo, an indigenous American man. I definitely think Geronimo was written with some stereotypes but I can’t comment too much on that. Colleen (the spirit guide in Good Omens the show), was definitely a better addition for the series.

Crowley & Aziraphale

They’re so in love, and no one can tell me otherwise. Just reading it without the context of the show, they so love each other.

In the show, we get a scene of Crowley pushing Aziraphale into a wall at the old Satanic Nunnery. That little moment doesn’t happen in the book.

A lot of the ending in the season was much more bulked out. For example, the series adds the entire Crowley and Aziraphale swapping bodies to trick their respective bosses. I actually love this addition though. This ending made their story arc feel so much more complete.

I think that’s all I’ve got for now! Please recommend more books!

[stabbyfoxandrew]

arsonist neil for wip wednesday please🙏

WIP Wednesday (2/21) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 98)

With that, Andrew rushes for the office with a warm face. He’s never had a boyfriend, he’s never wanted one. He still doesn’t. But he doesn’t think he would mind too much if it was someone like 10. Okay, sure, the arson thing isn’t ideal. But everyone has to sacrifice in a relationship, right?

Andrew isn’t sure that makes sense, but regardless he drops into the chair and plucks a thick packet of papers from a tray on the desk. After filling out two lines, Andrew gets bored and rolls the chair over to the doorway to look out. There’s no one in the hall, so he drops the pen and gets his phone back out.

Andrew It was a false alarm. 10 Oh. That’s good I guess. Or bad? If you’re bored I could start one for you. Andrew Don’t you fucking dare. 10 What’s got you in such a great mood? You just said you didn’t have to fight a fire. Andrew Even though there was no fire, I still have to fill out paperwork about it. 10 Oh. That sucks. Andrew You’re telling me. Every time you get match-happy, I have to fill out one of these. [a photo of Andrew’s hand holding a thick stack of paper] 10 Oh. Yikes. Andrew Yeah. At least I can talk to you while I fill this one out. 10 I’m sure that makes it all worthwhile.

Andrew snorts and sets his phone down for a moment to start actually doing his fucking job. He gets through the majority of it fairly quickly. He gets the caller’s phone number from the station’s phone and scribbles it down. And since it was a false alarm… Oh shit. That means he has to fill out another form saying so. Because they’ll have to investigate whoever was misusing the emergency line.

[writing-for-life]

Just popping in to clarify a couple of misconceptions that cropped up in both tags and comments and that (a part of) fandom is very enamoured with (for obvious reasons):

1. Ferdinand Kingsley did not regret that dialogue has been left out that shows Hob’s regret. There is no regret in 1789 in the comics, so nothing in that department that can be left out. What Ferdinand regretted was that they didn’t put in the dialogue that showed how truly awful and involved Hob was in the slave trade. “I sort of started it,” said with a hint of, dare I say, pride? And then brushing off Dream’s concerns by saying “It’s a living.” Twice.

If we are trying to use the comics to “absolve” Hob, or paint him in a light more sympathetic to our own feelings, we should at least do it properly. And there’s absolutely nothing remotely sympathetic about him here that could have been integrated into the show at this point.

So no, the dialogue that’s been left out would have painted him in a worse, not better light, and I personally think it was the wrong move to leave it out, just like Ferdinand. Because now the series pushed his whole involvement in the slave trade much more into the direction of, “Oopsie.” But of course many people in fandom already took that as a hint that he is somehow a better person in the show. And I’m just inwardly wishing that people would step back, take a minute, read that again and hopefully notice that leaving those comments out can’t make him a better person. Even if we change his arc slightly and he “wasn’t that involved.” It just reduces the whole issue even more and makes it more problematic because it somehow makes it a “little blip” in his timeline.

Quite frankly, I think they should have left the whole slavery arc out completely, because it never sat right with me to use slavery merely as a side note to show a white person’s character development without properly examining the damage caused. It makes the plight of PoC a plot vehicle while still only centering white people’s guilt/fragility, and I always thought that’s truly a blind spot only white people have (and I’m white myself, to get that out of the road straightaway). There are other ways to show character development.

I’m not saying it isn’t a part of history and could have been used narratively. But it would have needed to be fleshed out instead of making it basically a comment in passing. And the point is that it never has been fleshed out, and I am very doubtful we’ll get anything remotely appropriate in the show after what we’ve already seen. But only time will tell, so I’m withholding final judgment on the matter at this point. Fact is: It is very uncomfortable to watch at this stage if you have any sensitivity on the matter, and I think as a fandom, we should be more able to sit with that discomfort and examine it instead of brushing it away.

2. If we are talking about Hob’s “remorse”, we are probably talking about Gwen and Sunday Mourning (and potentially that half-sentence in 1889). And again, even as a white woman, I can see that a black woman is used (!) to forgive Hob. And that black woman has been written by a white man for that sole purpose without giving her anything else to do. I love Neil, I really do, but again: I think he got that terribly wrong. And I hope he sees it differently now and the show does something about it, because it’s painful to watch (at least for me, and again: I’m white. I can’t even begin to imagine how PoC will perceive this).

There is also the not so small fact that Hob is, even in his guilt and shame (and you know, shame is always about yourself, and that’s very in keeping with his character—at least they got that right), not honest with Gwen. The thing about him basically inventing it, which he so proudly proclaimed in 1789? Yeah, about that one:

Because the “Jack” Hawkins he talked about in 1789? That’s actually this dude:

And Hob funded him 200 years before 1789, and enabled Hawkins to set up what was called the Triangle Trade. Hob was involved in what became the slave trade well before 1789–he already funded it when he had money in the 1500s. And it is so obvious to me that fandom at large never examines this, or even makes the effort to understand the comics in that way. Literary analysis my arse. If you think the comics show remorse—well, they bloody well should because it wasn’t a “small” mistake (as if anything involving slavery ever could be anyway). He carried that mindset around with him for literal hundreds of years and saw nothing wrong with it until at least (! more about that in a sec) 1789. He’s been written as a stand-in for British Imperialism, with all that entails.

So how honest is he really? And how long, even after 1789, was he still involved, even after abolition in England (buying and selling slaves was made illegal in 1807, but owning slaves was only made illegal in 1833/34 btw)? Because there’s still this:

“It got worse when they did. You only needed one voyage in three to make a profit. You could afford to dump your cargo if… you spotted a British Man o’ War.” How does he know? Why does he have these nightmares? Take your guess…

No people, that’s not someone who tried it for a couple of weeks and then thought, “Oopsie, my bad.” That’s someone who has been opportunistically involved from the 1500s until after slavery was already abolished in England (very likely even after that convo with Dream). And how people can’t see that is really beyond me, because it’s right there, black on white.

Yes, what we see above and in all the other panels is guilt and shame. And it reminded me of this:

And I’d encourage everyone to really listen to what Jasper has to say, and sit with the feelings it brings up. Because I can still remember watching this in the George Floyd aftermath for the first time, and how deeply uncomfortable it made me—because he’s right.

It’s not for white people to absolve other white people from their guilt around the oppression of PoC. It could be argued it’s not for white people to write a black character to do that in their stead either. And black people/PoC do not need to forgive and absolve white people from their guilt. It is something that cannot be forgiven restrospectively, and we, as white people, need to be okay with that. And as Jasper also so rightly points out:

The guilt is not even helpful (at least Gwen has the right sentiment there, but it’s still incredibly flat and not fleshed out enough), and shame only centres ourselves.

It’s about the work. And we are not working if we close our eyes. Not even if it’s just “fun fandom.”

And now people can holler at me for not seeing Hob Gadling as some puppy-eyed person who is so full of regrets *uwu* that we all need to forgive him. It’s not for us to forgive what is unforgivable, even if he is “just” a character in a graphic novel.

However, I do see him as narratively important, and I see him as a stand-in for humanity, and more specifically, England.

The above two things aren’t at odds. Writers can get things narratively right but still be emotionally tone-deaf due to their own blind-spots. We don’t need to assume malice, but we also don’t need to leave it entirely unchallenged.

And because of that, we can certainly see Hob as someone who has to live with his conscience, and the consequences of his actions, for the rest of his life and struggles with that (as he should). And maybe we can see him as someone who is now, finally, trying to put in the work. That doesn’t mean though he needs to, or even can, be forgiven—especially not by black people. Because I still wonder what Gwen would have said if he had been truly honest with her (which he, I’m afraid to say, wasn’t, see below panels). That wouldn’t have been an embrace is my guess…

My controversial opinion about Hob Gadling is that I believe he’s absolutely the sort of guy that “puts things behind him”, and tries to wash his hands clean of the things he feels icky about. This is implied pretty well in the show, with him blithely moving from soldiering and robbery to printing, from slaving to… whatever it was he was doing in the 19th century instead. That being said, this is not at all the same as actively trying to atone, or even making a concerted effort to be a better person, and I really wish fandom could tell the difference!