Ha I had fun with this one 😀 can you tell I’m getting tired though pfft
Rule number one of Criminal Psychology 101: Don’t make eye
contact with the five-foot stack of unimpressed boredom that is Professor
Minyard
Rule number two: if I catch you eating the abomination that
is sour candy one more time, Johnson, you’re getting an F on your next essay
and I don’t give a fuck
Rule number three: stay quiet and listen because he may
sound like he doesn’t care but he knows a shocking amount and will talk
non-stop about his subject if you don’t interrupt and holy shit is anyone
recording this because you might just pass this class if you can memorise this
shit
Rule number four: apparently the professor carries knives
around sometimes? Don’t ask stupid questions
Rule number five: ask the stupid questions in his office
after the lecture and receive a free mug of cocoa with your answer
Rule number six: he will absolutely refuse to talk about any
personal issues but rumour has it one girl had a nervous breakdown about her
grades and he just marched her to the medical wing and gave her a blanket pass
but if you tell anyone he will glare
at you and that’s worse than the knives
Rule number seven: don’t mention the cat hair on his sleeve
Rule number eight: the professor seems to mark up essays and
projects on the criminalisation of mental illness and prejudice in the law
system so get on that shit and what the fuck this is horrifying reading
Rule number nine: the professor’s been a bit more chilled
lately? The betting pool is getting ridiculous on what’s causing it but
everyone seems to think he’s found a good lay; do not ever mention the betting
pool out loud
Rule number ten: what the fuck is that a wedding ring
Rule number eleven: why yes it is Johnson, congratulations
on having eyes
Rule number twelve: don’t scream when the extremely hot
languages professor comes in and kisses professor Minyard’s cheek hoe don’t do it
Rule number thirteen: oh my god
Accepting short prompts!
i. over and over i’ve told myself: i can’t find a home in a person.
i’ve thought it and whispered it and howled it so much
that it had become my own personal mantra:
i can’t find a home in a person.
it’s too dangerous.
i will break.
or you will break.
or we will break each other
and we won’t be able to put the pieces back together—
not in the same way—
we’ll both come out different than we were,
before we decided that “love” was a good idea.
there’s not much we can do to prevent that
other than stop it from happening in the first place.
so i don’t find homes in people;
in fact, i don’t find homes in much of anything anymore.
my cousin comes along and i think,
“he can’t be an exception. he’s family but he’s not
because he’s been absent for seventeen years.
but i still can’t hurt family, even if i’ve never seen them before,
because they’re family and you don’t fuck with family.
don’t get close. don’t take refuge in that.”
and it works. until it doesn’t.
some drunk assholes threaten my cousin’s safety
and the next thing you know,
i see red and i’m locked in juvie.
except: i’m fine with that.
anything to keep my distance, right?
anything to stop myself from finding a home in somebody.
but then my brother comes along and i think,
“he can’t be an exception either. he’s not me,
but he is at the same time,
and that’s worse than loving a stranger
because i can’t stand to see myself shatter twice.
keep him away. make him hate me. make him despise me.
anything, anything–
just don’t get close. don’t take shelter in him.”
and it works. until it doesn’t.
we’re the same but we’re not
and we’re more alike than we’d care to admit. we grow close.
we get attached. family is suddenly more than just an empty word
in the dictionary of my life.
except: i’m fine with that.
at least i got to delay the heartache, right?
but then YOU comes along. and i think,
“now he really can’t be an exception.
he’s nothing. no— less than nothing.
he’s just a boy — albeit a problematic one — but at the same time,
he feels like falling and i’m terrified of heights.
i’m not ready for this — for him —
for somebody who can make a difference in my life.
he wasn’t part of the plan.”
and it doesn’t work.
i find my home.
i’m pushed off that cliff,
and i fall
all
the
way
to
the
ground
(splat.)
(i knew finding a home in a person could be a dangerous thing– that it would hurt, that i would break or you would break or we would break each other.
but i wasn’t aware that it would hurt this badly.)
ii. we had both disappeared in the modern age:
fell into nihility,
became nullity.
you had dropped your name and dropped yourself in the process:
practiced shrinking; mastered not-existing;
took up muteness and swallowed down your clamors.
while you were running away from the life you never had,
i was busy taking refuge in myself,
and grasping the technique of speaking without talking.
i stayed holed up in bedroom after bedroom,
juvie cell after juvie cell,
closing my eyes and pretending i was anywhere but there.
you stayed on the road,
i stayed in my head.
until the people we once knew forgot our names and faces,
until we were both a distant figure
in the rearview mirrors of their lives.
until “andrew” and “nathaniel” weren’t people.
until nobody cared.
until nobody asked.
we were gone.
we were ghosts.
we were lost.
we were lost.
until–
we were found.
iii. i don’t believe in god,
but i swear every time your hips
meet mine,
i feel so magnificent and blessed and ethereal,
i think that maybe we are something holy and good:
apart of a greater plan
that we cannot even begin to understand our place in.
i will scream your name like a invocation to god himself,
and summon a convocation
of everything sacrosanct and divine,
until all the heavens knows your goddamn name.
neil, neil, neil, neil, god yes, neil, neil, neil
neil, neil, neil,
neil, neil,
neil
iv. a lament for icarus:
i look at you and sometimes wonder,
“how did icarus not see it coming?”
he loved the sun, sure.
she’s bright and brilliant and so impossibly blinding that it’s hard
not to bestow yourself to her.
but you’d have to be stupid not to see how dangerous she could be;
how easily you could be taken advantage of;
how easily you could get burned.
it’s an ever-present threat, looming just over the horizon.
and yet– icarus crashed and burned and died and now poets can’t stop singing his song.
sometimes i think that,
sure, icarus loved the sun,
but maybe that was the point.
maybe he was tired of breathing without living—
tired of inhibiting a body that he felt like a house-guest in.
maybe icarus didn’t forget his wings were constructed of wax.
maybe he just didn’t care.
maybe he saw the sun and saw everything else the world had to offer,
and decided that ‘everything else’ just wasn’t good enough.
because I, too, look at you and think,
“yeah. i’d burn for you. any day, any time, i’d burn for you.”
‘everything else’ is just an afterthought.
v. love
/ləv/
noun
1. background noise
2. too many emotions, not enough words
3. valentine’s gimmick
4. hallmark card
5. stay.
6. don’t go.
7. welcome home.
He straightened and turned to find Andrew had shifted closer. There was nowhere for Neil to stand except up against Andrew, but somehow Neil didn’t mind.
Sometimes Neil dreams of the past. Sometimes the dreams are so vivid he can smell his mother’s corpse as it burns, so vivid he can hear wit absolute clarity the clang of his father’s ax, so vivid he can see the metal glint off Lola’s knife as she carves his arms to ribbons.
Sometimes he can feel Riko’s knife as it slips beneath his skin, as he hits him until blood fills his mouth, as he makes him run plays until Neil is past the point of pain. It’s like he’s paralyzed, unable to move, unable to fight back.
He doesn’t realize he’s dreaming until his eyes are snapping open, his gaze landing on a hardened face with messy blonde hair, steady hands on his shoulders.
He’s pretty sure someone is screaming, and it takes a moment for him to understand that it’s him, but then Riko’s knife is back, his matches are back, his fists are back, and Neil is powerless beneath him, just as he was the first time, and he can’t stop. He can’t stop his own voice, just as he couldn’t stop Riko’s torture. It lasted so long, god, it lasted so long. Days and days and days and weeks, time running on and slowing down and stretching out.
Then strong arms are wrapping around him, and he’s being pulled against someone’s chest; he knows from the feel of them it isn’t violent, that it’s meant for comfort.
so i somehow messed up answering your ask directly, but this was requested by @vexingcosmos! i’m sorry it took me forever, but i actually did some research because i know NOTHING about smoking. also, this got long. like…really long.
it began as most things do, where the Foxes are concerned: with a bet
it’s a Friday night and the Monsters have come to Columbia, and for once, the upperclassmen were allowed to come along
Matt’s birthday was on Wednesday, and he just wants to hang out with his best friend and favorite human Neil okay let him live
so Neil *asked* Andrew and well…we all know how that goes
the whole gang is having a grand ol’ time
Aaron, Nicky, Allison, and Dan have been on the dance floor practically since the second they walked into Eden’s
Allison dragged a reluctant Renee out to join them within the first hour, and this girl can DANCE don’t fight me on this
Kevin has been drunk since before they even left Sweetie’s (snuck in a flask, the little troublemaker)
he’s so far gone that he couldn’t even tell you who the first striker in Exy history to reach 1,000 goals was. he may or may not be aware that he is swaying.
Matt has been hanging out at the table with Neil and a rather annoyed Andrew
Matt has convinced Neil to take way too many shots for his tiny body to handle, but Andrew is there, so he’s trying not to worry about it
sometime around the seventh shot, the rest of the gang makes their way over to the table
Andrew’s hand is on Neil’s thigh, and his pointer finger has been tapping incessantly for the past twenty minutes
and Neil can only take so much, even from Andrew
he stares at Andrew as subtly as he can (i.e. not very) in an effort to catch his attention
Andrew eventually drags his gaze over to Neil and lazily cocks his head to the side, as if to say what could you possibly want at this moment in time, Neil
Neil looks pointedly to Andrew’s hand and then jerks his head towards the exit
Neil is, of course, very unsubtle with all of this
Kevin turns to stare at them and says, in a barely intelligible voice, “if you’re gonna hook up, you could at least wait until we’re back at the house and i’m passed tf out”
Nicky laughs and says, “aww Kev c’mon, let the munchkins have playtime whenever they want”
Andrew is about to turn his whiskey glass into a weapon for the munchkin comment when Aaron suddenly pipes in
“nah, Andrew needs to take care of his other habit”
it is now very quiet in their group of normally very loud people
everyone looks to Aaron for him to clue them in on what he means
everyone except Renee, who has silently moved closer to Andrew just in case he really does decide to use that whiskey glass
Aaron continues: “you know what smoking does to your body over time, right? i assume i don’t need to go all Bill Nye on your ass and draw you a picture”
Aaron becomes Dr. Minyard when he is very drunk. trust me.
Andrew doesn’t say anything, just stares at Aaron. is he even blinking? probably not
“who am i kidding. you don’t care. you’ll just let this ruin you. i bet you couldn’t quit even if you tried”
that gets everyone’s attention
Nicky: “did he just say the B word”
Allison: “looks like it’s that time again where i get even richer”
Matt, softly: “oh shit”
Neil is about to jump in and open up a can of whoop ass on Aaron when Andrew’s steady voice comes from beside him
“fine”
everyone, collectively: “WHAT”
Andrew rolls his eyes. “fine. i bet that i can quit completely within a week”
complete silence. everyone just stares. shock. disbelief.
Andrew gets up and starts heading towards the exit, dragging Neil along with him
********
Neil decides to join Andrew in Operation Quit Smoking
but two days into it, they’re both at their wits end
they definitely aren’t about try anything medication-related, for obvious reasons
after doing a bit of research related to natural methods like adding more of certain vitamins into your diet, Neil confronts Andrew
“you know we have to. we don’t have another choice”
“fuck you, i’m not doing that”
“Andrew. it’s our last option.”
[after a long, defeated sigh] “fine. but you have to ask him”
so Neil does the one thing he wished he’d never have to do with anything that isn’t Exy
he asks Kevin to help
when they wake up the next day, Kevin has printed out color-coded meal plans for both Andrew and Neil
Andrew Minyard does not cry. But let me tell you. Looking at that list of food options…it was an extremely close call.
on every single day, the breakfast item was a green smoothie
Andrew thought he’d rather just pay the entire $500 betting pool off himself
but Neil. precious, precious Neil. tells Andrew that they can definitely do it, and wouldn’t it be great to prove Aaron wrong and make him lose money that he probably would have spent on Katelyn?
so they pull themselves up by their metaphorical bootstraps and follow all of Kevin’s rules. every. single. one.
halfway to their deadline, Andrew finally wants to kill everyone slightly less than he did yesterday. he marks this as massive progress.
Neil didn’t really smoke in the first place, but he’s still having trouble finding something to replace that feeling he gets from the smell
he’ll be okay without it, he thinks. he has Andrew to keep him steady, to ground him when he feels like he could float away from reality for good
by the following Friday, the Foxes have gathered in the girls’ room to hear the final word and settle their bets
Kevin has become the official referee of this particular bet
everyone waits in suspense, heartbeats flying at the thought of all the cash they are either about to lose or gain
Kevin takes his role seriously, as he does everything else
“i declare that, as of this day at 4:27 pm, Andrew and Neil have gone three consecutive days without one cigarette. i predict that they will be able to continue resisting, if they keep following my suggested guidelines”
the last bit is said with a hard look at Neil and Andrew. of course.
Allison, Matt, and Dan don’t try to hide the smug looks on their faces as Aaron and Nicky hand over entirely too much for a bunch of college students to bet with
Renee chose not to participate, but her new bruises say that she’s been helping Andrew cope all week
Aaron grudgingly looks back to Andrew, holding out his hand with his share of the winnings
Andrew just stares at him. blinks. turns around and walks out the door.
Neil edges out of the room to follow him up to the roof while everyone is arguing over who gets Andrew’s share, since he’s obviously not taking it
Neil reaches Andrew and sits beside him with their shoulders touching
they’re looking out over campus when Neil turns to Andrew
“i’m proud of you”
Neil gets a disgusted scoff and a hand pushing his face away in return
Nicky: It’s just hatefucking. Andrew doesn’t really care about Neil. Andrew: *breaks his own promise and chokes Kevin to find out where Neil is* Andrew: *risks being shot or arrested by the Feds to be closer to Neil* Andrew: *tells Neil to stay even if it might be a danger for everyone else* Andrew: *stays with Neil through his interrogation and while Abby cleans his arms* Andrew: *makes Neil feels safe that entire time* Andrew: *opens Neil’s protein bar for him so he doesn’t hurt his hands* Andrew: *literally showers with Neil and wears his clothes* Andrew: *sleeps in the middle of the room so he doesn’t leave Neil alone* Aaron: -side eyes Nicky-
Nothing but My Aching Soul 