6: “Marry me” (part 2 from the 5/6 request, also andreil!)
It takes 4 months and 2 weeks to organize Matt’s proposal to Dan.
Neil knows because he’s been pretending to understand most of what Matt says to him for 4 months and 2 weeks.
It’s not that he’s not happy for them, it’s just that being told to celebrate love feels like being told to celebrate the way the world turns, or the gravity that continues to pin us like the bar on a rollercoaster seat. Neil celebrates love by staying alive to see it. He celebrates it by keeping it.
He looks at prospective rings and says they’re fine over and over again. He dutifully tells Dan nothing even when she asks outright. He answers the phone when Matt calls him in a panic at midnight and says “what if she says no” so many times that Neil hands the phone to Nicky.
It does make him think though, about Andrew. Without meaning to.
He doesn’t think of it as marriage in his head (to Neil, marriage has always been something that swallows you like quick sand). Tying himself to Andrew though — having something legally binding like Neil Josten on his documents, like their names on the lease, like his contract with his team — that means something to Neil.
Being with Andrew is the thrill of being in the game, but having it on paper would be like points blinking onto a scoreboard. He knows he’s scoring now, but he wants the crowd to know too. He wants this win to stick.
He doesn’t mention it because it doesn’t matter, ultimately. Neil doesn’t need other people to tell him that they love each other.
Andrew scoops Sir off Neil’s lap and smuggles him to his side of the couch. He pours one bowl of sugar crisp and one bowl of granola in the morning. He catches Neil’s sleeve before he goes for a run and uses every ounce of 5 AM energy he has to hold Neil’s eyes. Neil knows how he feels.
But he really does support Matt and Dan, separate from the way he’s scared of hospital rooms he won’t be allowed into or the box on a form that labels them ‘roommates’ like that’s anywhere close to enough.
The engagement lines up with a weekend that all the original foxes are scheduled to meet up on, scraped together by Matt’s meticulous hands and Nicky’s constant phone calls.
Andrew isn’t interested in going, but Neil asks, so. They’re the first ones there.
Even more Açaí (blended with banana and blueberries) for the weekend. The weather is SO gloomy in Sydney but this brightens up my day! ☀️ Also included a close-up of the toppings - just like old times! Topped it with some creamy coyo, homemade muesli and granola and some juicy mango
2 cups GF oats
¼ cup maple syrup
½ tsp. cinnamon
1/8 tsp. all spice
¼ tsp. salt
½ tsp. pure vanilla extract
1/3 cup chopped raw pistachios
¼ cup desiccated coconut
Preheat oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.
In a mixing bowl, combine the oats, maple syrup, vanilla and spices then transfer to baking sheet and bake for 35 minutes. Next, remove granola form oven and add pistachios and coconut and bake for another 10-12 minutes or until the coconut is lightly toasted.
Granola keeps for about 2 weeks stored in an airtight container.
Oh god.. today was so hectic, I have to organized everything that I need to bring tomorrow with me, I am going to sleep over at my bf place, from 7:25 AM me and my girls we are going to bake some snacks for the ball, buy flowers for our teachers and blah blah.. it’s little bit difficult to make your own ball, you have to find a way to get money, plan decorations, alcohol, food and everything..
I hope it will be OK.
Pansy Parkinson was the type of girl to end her love letters in x’s and o’s.
Except her x’s were bones and her o’s were skulls and her love letters were always more like death threats taped to her lover’s locker.
She wore black lipstick and choker necklaces and was the kind of crafty, never-present student all the teachers despised, yet she managed to be top of the class ever single fucking time and it drove everyone mad.
She smelled of peppermint and looked like Persephone’s softest daydream. Her kisses were sweet and her punches were like cotton candy.
Pansy was possessive. Like the moon in the sky, desiring every eye to fall upon her precious being.
And when she wanted something, she would stop at nothing to ensure she was queen of it. All the boys were afraid of her and all the girls idolized her.
With her perfectly manicured midnight-colored nails and her ironed pleated mini skirt, she practically owned the school.
That is, until she works her way through an entire bag of exceptionally well-charmed licorice meant to bring tangibility back to the dead.
In her state, though—her very alive state—she transforms into a ghost.