you know what is real

Silence fills the room until Kevin can't help himself and breaks the tranquility by complaining.

"This movie doesn't make sense. Isabella of France and Wallace never met in real life. She was-"

A chorus of shushes, annoyed looks, and a "Shut up Kevin, no one cares" follows before everyone's attention returns to the screen.

Kevin slumps against the couch, trying not to think too much about the way everyone ignores him. A moment later, a hand settles on his head, gently pushing it toward Neil's knee, inviting him to rest there. Soft fingers scratch at the top of his head. Golden eyes look intensely his way.

Neil leans toward him and murmurs, "What about her? What were you about to say?"

I was about to write more headcanons, but it got to the point where there's enough material for an entire fic 🧍🏻‍♀️ It might take me a while!! (It would be my first fanfic, and english isn't my first language...) But I feel motivated enough to make it happen!!

I can tell you about Jeremy, Renee, and Jean's opinion on all of this.

Jeremy is having the time of his life. He needs Andrew and Kevin to end up together. But he refuses to interfere, even though he's dying to do something. He knows it'll eventually happen, judging by how much interest Kevin shows in Andrew and the way Andrew observes Kevin every chance he gets.

Or at least, that's what he thought until he caught Andrew and Nathaniel talking. Well, not exactly talking. Nathaniel is yelling at him from his position at the court, rude as always, picking a fight with the goalkeeper for absolutely no reason. And Andrew doesn't respond, he just smiles.

That's just the Trojans' protocol, it shouldn't be anything unusual. What catches Jeremy off guard is how genuine the smile is. How it reaches Andrew's eyes. How it slowly turns into a smirk as Nathaniel keeps throwing insults at him. It had taken Andrew years and countless hours of therapy to express even the slightest emotion. This was a huge step. And Jeremy, who thought Andrew hated the raven, couldn't be more confused.

After the game, he asks Andrew about it, but the answer is as simple as, "He's funny," and Jeremy is left completely speechless.

Jean is in Nathaniel's room. It's harder to see him now that Riko is his roommate, but when Riko has to leave the Nest for an interview, Jean doesn't hesitate before slipping inside, looking for his friend.

He doesn't find Nathaniel there. What he does find is a binder hidden beneath the carpet. It's full of newspaper clippings, articles about past games, photographs, and files that probably shouldn't be in Nathaniel's hands.

It's not the first time Jean has caught Nathaniel gathering information on someone. He knows there's another binder just like this one filled with everything there is to know about Kevin. What shocks him is seeing Andrew's photo staring back at him in the familiar black-and-white newspaper print.

As usual, Jean acknowledges it but doesn't comment on it. After all, it isn't safe to have feelings like these here. If he could, he'd make every trace disappear, every piece of evidence vanish. But he knows better than to touch Nathaniel's things.

The binder goes carefully back into its hiding place and Jean keeps his mouth shut.

Renee follows Kevin everywhere he goes. They made a pact, protection in exchange for a future. Renee doesn't want to continue playing Exy after graduation, but whatever helps Kevin ask for support without remorse is welcomed.

Every Fox knows Kevin has a thing for Andrew. Every Fox also knows there's some tension going on between Kevin and Nathaniel. Naturally, this turns into a bet.

Dan insists that Kevin's feelings for Andrew are just fanatism, while whatever is happening with Nathaniel is more profound. Allison bets all her money on Kevin's painfully obvious crush on Andrew, convinced Nathaniel is nothing more than a very complicated friendship.

Kevin is Andrew's biggest fan. He has secret merch of him hidden in a box under his bed. The rest of the Foxes know about it and won't stop making fun of him for it. Kevin once asked Jeremy for Andrew's number, but Jeremy played the "players' privacy" card.

Everyone assumes Andrew hates Nathaniel, but actually, he finds him kind of funny. The way he's so rude and smart-mouthed, how cruel he seems for someone so short, and most of all, how angry he gets whenever he can't score against him. There's always defiance in Nathaniel's eyes whenever they meet, and maybe a glint of something more.

Nathaniel is a mess of conflicting emotions every time he sees Kevin on the court. He tries his best to look angry, resentful, to make Kevin feel guilty for abandoning Jean, for abandoning him. But in reality, he is overwhelmingly sorrowful. He painfully misses Kevin, but that's something he won't even admit to himself.

Kevin is full of grief. Every day, he wishes Nathaniel would play with him again. He tells himself it's all for the sake of the game. However, deep down, he knows he just wants Nathaniel by his side. He spends his days daydreaming about Nathaniel as a Fox, being a normal kid, tagging along to all the silly hangouts the Foxes have in their free time. He dreams about them being normal friends for once, and sometimes, even more than that.

Nathaniel knows everything about Andrew. It wasn't difficult to get all the information he needed, not when Kevin seemed so fond of him. Nathaniel needed to know why. After reading Andrew's file, he can't get him out of his mind. How can someone who has suffered that much end up somewhere so golden? Is it really possible to change that much? Would it be possible for him to escape the Nest and shine like that?

its a speeding ticket (not uncommon) with a traffic enforcement photo attached and its undeniable that it’s ilya’s (very few orange lamborghinis in the area) so shane is like “wow way to go. another few of those and your license is finally going to get revoked” and ilya is like “no. look closer.”

and shane leans in to look at the photo and tiny, just barely perceptible on the grainy photo, is ilya’s hand with a handful of dark hair in his lap

Shane, post-outing, is insatiable. He is cornering his husband in the equipment closet at the Cens arena, crowding him into the wall, “Jesus fucking Christ your cock in these sweatpants, baby, I need a taste,” sinking to his knees and swallowing Ilya’s dick before he’s even all the way hard (which lasts like half a second lol.)

Ilya and Shane walk into the locker room 10 minutes later, Ilya looking slightly dazed and flushed and Shane’s hair not fully back in place, the slightest smirk on his face.

Shane is drifting awake wrapped around Ilya like an octopus at 2 a.m., face nestled in the hollow of his throat, warm weight like a balm to his nervous system and Shane is so fucking happy and content he can’t help but stim a little bit, shivering and rubbing his face against Ilya’s neck and jaw, stubble sharp but in a good way, and rubbing his legs against Ilya’s like a little cricket and then he’s grinding against him, Ilya blinking awake to an armful of snuggly sleepy Shanya who needs to be full, please, Ilya, needs his cock so bad.

Shane is making a rule that they go home for lunch when they can because the chance to have Ilya alone for 45 minutes in the middle of the days is irresistible. Sometimes it’s stumbling through the door and quick, desperate handjobs on the couch, and once in a while when the team is just reviewing tape that morning, Shane will prep and plug himself, murmuring to Ilya on the way in the door that he “got ready for lunch a little early.” Ilya is painfully hard for four fucking hours, losing his train of thought every time he sees Shane shift the slightest bit in his seat, awkwardly carrying some papers and files in front of crotch to try to disguise what’s happening.

When they get home Ilya rims him until he’s crying and then fucks him through at least one more orgasm, maybe 2 and if they’re a couple minutes late coming back, well, traffic was bad, okay? Yes, Bood, the 1 p.m. on a Wednesday rush hour specifically in the three miles between their house and practice arena, no I’m fine I’m not limping, just tweaked my back at practice yesterday.

The “look at you, now look at me” part compares the stats of Montreal vs. Ottawa. Players making mistakes vs the Cens being in sync. And most notably, pap pics of one of the more blatantly homophobic players attending their divorce hearing vs. Hollanov’s wedding pics and cup celebration kiss.

It takes all of Harris’ willpower not to retweet it (Ilya dgaf).