Y'all can gush about m night shyamalan all you want but the biggest plot twist I’ve ever witnessed is Ben stiller releasing some crusty mummy from a sarcophagus and it ending up being the fine ass Rami Malek
being spun around until he’s dizzy whenever he sees matt
having to clean up cat litter :(
the fond hair ruffle wymack gives him when he comes to visit palmetto
that one time all of the foxes managed to get together for a reunion (and the repeat cuddle pile that followed)
allison’s vague tweets that are very obviously about his friends
team game night (also known as neil trying not to nod off in the corner but loving the time spent with his family anyways)
articles about how far the foxes have come
stadiums filled with thousands of exy fans cheering him and his team on
being part of kevin’s acceptance speech as he’s inducted into the hall of fame
being able to sign his name on official documents
drinking pricey fruit smoothies (and pretending not to notice whenever andrew steals a sip)
having a ring full of keys that he actually uses and a ring full of keys that he can’t bring himself to give up
waking up in the morning and feeling like he’s home
things that andrew finds himself living for:
weekly skype calls with nicky
an amazon account that’s used to send impulse buys to the other minyards (including but not limited to: chemistry cat sweatshirts, a kevin day limited edition operation game, a recipe book of various chocolate desserts)
letters from renee, written in her barely-legible handwriting and usually covered with animal stickers
hot chocolate and phone calls with bee
robin slowly upping her stats and the way she’d excitedly call to tell him (as if he’s the one who actually cares)
the occasional opportunity to blackmail kevin into letting him skip court practices using embarrassing photos from their college days
making the team’s nutritionist cry
volunteer charities that work to help kids stuck in the foster care system/abusive households
the hilarious expressions of surprise on the foxes’ faces when they see him take care of his nieces at their reunion
the tea place a few streets down that trade him pictures of his and neil’s cats doing dumb things with whatever desserts they have left over
waking up in the morning and feeling like he’s home
i have literally no sense of time beyond a couple days, either forwards or backwards
something happened a week ago? sure, but it feels the same to me as if it was three weeks ago, or three days. something else happened? ok, but i cant tell you if it came before the other thing, or after, or even on the same day
& if something is more than a week in the future, it just doesnt exist. i cant plan for it. i cant remember any plans people tell me about it. i cant prepare for anything beyond the horizon
its never had too much of an impact on me, but im scared of whatll happen if im a suspect for a crime
‘what were you doing 8pm last friday?’ something, im sure. maybe nothing. honestly i feel like ive only existed this second. ‘you told us this sequence of events before, but now youve changed the order. are you lying?’ i mean im not trying to deceive you but theres a 90% chance that anything i tell you is a false memory. isnt there someone else you can ask? if i try to give you the story again, itll be different again
Did you really convince little Steve Rogers that the fireworks on the fourth of July were for his birthday?
that was the handiwork of one mrs sara rogers, who used to take her little asthmatic arrhythmic tiny baby son on the roof to watch the fireworks on his birthday. (mostly so that they didnt have to be in the apartment with steves dad, who had shellshock which he medicated with waaaay too much alcohol, and he was always worse on the fourth, since it sounded like there were explosions going off everywhere. steves dad died when he was three, and my ma said once that mrs rogers might have missed him, but she didnt miss the bruises he left.)
as it happened, that was how i first met steve–on the roof of the building when i was four and he was turning one. i actually remember it, which is pretty incredible considering how old i was and how swiss-cheese my brain is. but there was mrs sara, with her tiny little baby on her hip. i’d never seen anybody so fair-skinned and blonde as mrs sara and stevie, and the lights off the fireworks painted them all sorts of colors. most of the other little kids were crying and had to be brought inside because the noise scared them, but not baby stevie–he was reaching his little bitty baby hands up, trying to grab the sparkly fireworks. probably the noise didnt bother him because he was partially deaf, but mrs sara always insisted that it was just that he had more courage than could fit inside him.
generally, she also mentioned that all that courage had taken up the space where his common sense was supposed to be.
when steve was three, he said his favorite color was america–by which he meant red, white, and blue, because that was the colors for his birthday, and everyone always celebrated with him.
even after mrs sara died, us barneses kept up the fireworks story, and i passed it on to the howlies eventually.
i dont know how old steve was when he figured out that the whole city wasnt just throwing him a huge birthday celebration, but im sure that if you asked him, he’d still insist the fireworks were for him.
whatever PR schmuck decided to name him captain america probably had no idea how accurate a name it was.