#anyway everyone sucks at math let's get you some fruit

[theforgottendaydreamer]

Haikyuu sick/hurt characters headcanons: Karasuno edition!

⚠️ sickness, injuries, phobias, allergies and correlated symptoms ahead. If these themes upset you, proceed with caution. If you use these, credit me, please. ⚠️

Sawamura Daichi:

He doesn't let anyone know when he's sick. He'll show up to practise with a fever of 39°C and say that he's fine if someone points out how warm he is ("It's just overextertion. If you're not warm, it means you haven't been exercising well!")

He doesn't actually believe that he's fine, he knows his limits, but he just doesn't want to alarm anyone.

Luckily, he always manages to hold on until he reaches the bathroom if he's feeling pukey.

When he does get sick, he's very quiet and discreet. He always tries to go back to what he was doing before, insisting that he's okay.

When he's sick or hurt, the other third-years can see through his "I'm okay!" act (remember that time he hit his head and insisted that he was fine to play?), and know how miserable he really feels, so they force him to take it easyー he's no match for Suga, who will use mild violence if that's what it takes to make Daichi give up and rest.

Sugawara Kōshi:

He's anemic, cue to his constantly cold hands (and feet). Because of this, he takes iron pillsー or he should, because he forgets more often than not.

When he forgets the pills, he gets dizzy and weak, and needs to sit down for a bit. Once, he passed out due to anemia during practise, and he doesn't want to repeat that ever again, so he's extra cautious.

It's easy to understand when he's feverish, because he gets unexpectedly sleepy and quiet. He will fall asleep in class without even realising it if his temperature's any higher than 37,5°C.

He rarely gets hurt, but when that happens nobody's sure if he's okay or not. It's not that he denies it, but he simply doesn't say anything ("why didn't you say anything sooner!?" "B-because you didn't ask..?")

Once, he twisted his ankle and walked on it for a little less than thirty minutes before actually asking the coach if he could go get himself some ice. Of course, they didn't send him to get the icepack, but he had to sit there and listen as Coach Ukai yelled at him for not speaking up sooner.

Azumane Asahi:

He gets anxiety-induced stomach aches very often, and that's why he's used to feeling dizzy and to puking. Vomit doesn't scare him anymore.

Whenever he's sick, he runs away from the others; he needs to flee, far away. He loves his teammates, but he's scared that they'll accidentally overwhelm him further, and he doesn't want them to feel guilty.

This man can't stand the sight of blood. Like, at all, not even a little. Not even in movies. When Shimizu got a shallow paper cut, the Coach actually had to physically support him when getting him seated on a bench.

He broke his left index finger when he was a first-year, and as soon as he saw the bone sticking out of the skin (it looked worse than what it really was) he fell backwards and on a very concerned Sugawara without a word.

Cue to lots of tears and puke on the way to the hospital. He was inconsolable, but when Daichi had the idea to hide the injury from his eyes, Asahi managed to calm down a bit. In every situation, it's not the injury that scares him, but the blood.

Nishinoya Yuu:

He's reckless, he won't even notice when he gets injured. Since he's so used to bruises, bumps and shallow cuts, he doesn't understand when he's actually injured.

This guy played a whole set with a sprained wrist before realising that "hey, this feels kinda weird..?" and he didn't tell anyone until the end of the game, when his wrist was visibly swollen.

High pain tolerance plays a major role when he's injured or sick. Still, the others wish he would have a more average pain tolerance, because, once, Nishinoya felt sick during math class, and still claimed he was fine. He thought he was.

When he was rushed to the hospital due to a "mild ache in his lower stomach" that had been going on for two days after the math class incident, along with a 38,7°C fever, he was told that he had appendicitis ("I thought I just ate something bad or that I needed to take a huge dump! How was I supposed to know!? I thought I was fine."). It was clear that he wasn't, in fact, fine.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke:

He will try to toughen everything out and ignore the pain until it gets unbearable. Be it an injury or some sickness, he will automatically ignore it if he doesn't think it's serious enough to be life-threatening.

That's why he almost died when he ate one of the peanut butter cookies that Yachi had baked. Turns out, allergies do existー but he wished he'd found out in a different way. Sometimes, "My throat's kinda itchy. Does my tongue look... too big? It... it feels too big." can be synonym of "Hospital, now." Bless Takeda-sensei.

The time when he collided with Daichi, Tanaka completely ignored the fact that his arm hurt, and only realised when he took his shirt off in the locker-room and heard a screech from Yamaguchi. The bruise went from his shoulder to his elbow, blue and swollen. Cue to lots of pain relief cream and ice packs.

Ennoshita Chikara:

He never broke a bone in his whole life, but he's very good at dealing with it when it happens to someone else. He's just fascinated by how the human body works, and sometimes people think he's being cold in front of someone else's pain, when he's really just being logical.

He's good at dealing with his own pain too, though he rarely gets hurt or sick.

When he gets sick, he recovers pretty rapidly, but this leads him into relapse. That's why he's not allowed back to practise for a whole week after he recovers ("I'm fine. I've been fine for three days already, my fever wasn't even that high..." "Last time you said you were fine, you almost got pneumonia. Go home.").

He gets bad allergies during spring, and takes a lot of antihistamine pills which make him sleepy. He often has to excuse himself from class to go take a nap in the infirmaryー the teachers and the nurse know, so they always allow him to.

Narita Kazuhito:

This man is the embodiment of health. His diet and lifestyle will probably allow him to live until past the age of 100.

That's why he's not used to getting sick. And when he does, he's a confused mess with no idea of what to do with himself.

When he puked on himself after practise he was so shocked that he chuckled nervously and stood still, frozen, until Kinoshita and Ennoshita dragged him to the bathroom. He almost found the whole ordeal funny.

Kinoshita Hisashi:

He really despises vegetables and fruit, and often gets mocked because of it. He often stuffs himself with sweets and fried food until he feels sick ("But... how? That cake had strawberries in it! It's supposed to be healthy!").

He gets very bad seasickness. Once, his friends decided to drag him to Miyajima: he spent the time on the ferry and first hour on the island puking his guts out.

The thing he doesn't do good with is fainting: if someone passes out in front of him, he does the same, always. When Daichi passed out in the middle of the court, Kinoshita was thankful that Narita was there to hold him up, because he was ready to leave the land of the living.

Kageyama Tobio:

Always denies everything ("my nose is not bleeding!!") and this only makes everything worse for him. If he feels shaky, he won't take a clue and sit down; instead, he'll push himself and end up falling down on whoever's closest to him ("Daichi-san, nice receive!" "Now's really not the time, Hinata...").

When he gets sick, he gets sick hard. The flu has him puking all day long, with a fever of 39.5°C that, he insists, is not that high. His family and friends are smart enough to understand that he's lying. Not even the doctors and nurses at the E.R. can convince him that he's sick.

To be fair, he does not lie when he says that he's not hurt or sick: he genuinely thinks that whatever's going on with him is normal and not that bad.

He accidentally tripped on the leg of a desk in class, and fell face first into the teachers'. The deep, bleeding cut on his forehead wasn't enough for him to understand that he needed to go to the infirmary, and he just sat back at his desk, apologising for the mess. Turns out that his "little cut" needed six stitches in the end, and that his "mild headache" was, in fact, a mild concussion. He showed up to practise the following day anyway, and the Coach had to physically prevent him from joining.

He doesn't do good with nausea, though; he doesn't mind fevers, joint-pains, blood, bruises, or the act of throwing up itself. But when he feels nauseous he actively wishes to pass out, because anything is better than dealing with feeling like that. That's why he'd rather stick his fingers down his throat to get rid of the nausea already than waiting for it to pass naturally.

This got worse when he started suffering from migraines. As soon as he feels one starting to build behind his eye, he throws himself over the toilet, waiting for the dreaded nausea to come so that he can get rid of it before it gets too bad. He stays like that for hours if that's what it takes.

Hinata Shōyō:

He pukes a lot, and for a number of reasons: nervousness, motion sickness, fear, hungerー this guy can't even take it to the bathroom.

His guts are a mess, and he either vomits or poops every time he feels any strong emotion (which is...pretty often, for him). Thank goodness his friends always have pills that help with motion sickness with them, along with antiacid pills and sparkling water, and that Kiyoko and Yachi often restock the bus and everyone's backpacks with paper bags.

The higher the fever, the more he moves. Ever since he was a kid, a fever has never stopped him, and to be fair, fevers make him feel more motivated and energetic. He takes "Hey, no. Sit down, drink up, and rest." as an insult because "I'm fine. You're benching me because you think I suck, huh!? But I was doing fine! I- I was being good, right..?"

Yes, fevers make him emotional. He'll cry for anything once they make him admit that he's sick. He mostly cries because "How could I get sick? I'm going to be useless! I should've paid more attention, I should've been better!" but Kageyama knows for sure that he saw a feverish Hinata crying over a picture of his sister, for some reason.

He doesn't mind blood when he's the one to be bleeding, but if it's someone else, he freaks out. Seeing someone else having a bloody nose or bleeding from some injury, even small and insignificant, makes his stomach flip.

Tsukishima Kei:

He's never said "I'm in pain." in his whole life. The most honest statement he managed to grit out was "It kinda hurts.", but he never said anything more than that. He won't show himself being so vulnerable, ever.

Whenever he has to go to the optometrist, he won't eat anything for at least half a day before the appointment, because he knows for sure that he's going to throw up after the doctor dilatates his pupils.

He's a quiet puker, and he always locks himself up in the bathroom, which can be dangerous in those situations. After that time when he passed out after throwing up, his mother got an extra key of the bathroom, and always lingers close to the door when she knows that her son's about to be sick.

If anyone tries to interrupt him when he throws up or when he's in acute pain, he will yell at them. It's not that he doesn't appreciate the help, but he hates how everything feels so crowded around him when he's down. The only person who's brave enough to help him when he's like that is Yamaguchi, mostly because he's used to hearing his angry words (even if Tsukishima's never insulted him personally).

Yamaguchi Tadashi:

Terribly emetophobic, he won't throw up even if he has to. He just won't do that, no way... Which is cruelly ironic, since he gets sick pretty often due to anxiety and weak immune system. Tsukishima doesn't mind helping him out (but he would never step close to anyone else when they're sick) but he can be a bit rough sometimes; this both reassures and agitates Yamaguchi. "I'll stick my fingers down your throat if you don't throw up now." doesn't sound too kind, but when Tsukishima adds "it'll make you feel better, I promise." Yamaguchi feels a bit calmer. He’s also a loud puker.

He's a type-2 diabetic, though he has it under control and hasn't had any problem related to that in a while, not since the beginning of middle school, at least. Still, sometimes he needs to reluctantly sit practise out because he's obviously too shaky and weak to strain himself that much. When that happens, they all make sure that someone sits with him to make him feel less alone... and he appreciates it immensely.

He's on anxiety meds, but they make him feel dizzy sometimes, which leads him into a spiral of panic for fear that he'll get sick. It's a huge contradiction, really, and he hates it with his whole soul.

He's one of the people in the team who can handle others' sickness and injuries better; it might shock him for a second, but he's ready to jump into action and solve the problem in order to help his friends out.

Injuries don't scare him, though the worst thing that ever happened to him was when he got punched in the face by a bully. He also broke his arm in middleschool once though he doesn't remember muchー maybe it was the shock, or maybe it was that it hurt less than he imagined. The punch freaked him out more than that.

Yachi Hitoka

She's a good caretaker, but an absolute mess when it comes to taking care of her own injuries and sickness.

She's clumsy so she's not new to bruises and cuts, but this doesn't mean that she doesn't freak out a bit whenever she sees blood on her legs or arms. On their way home from school, one day, Hinata and Yamaguchi decided to get her band-aids with little chicks and kittens on them. She finished the 30-pack in less than a month.

She got her period a bit late in life, a couple of months before turning 15, and whenever she's on her period, it hits her like a train at full-speed in the guts. Kiyoko taught her some yoga moves that help with the cramps, and the boys never bother the two of them when they see them doing yoga in the corner of the gym. In fact, they also bought her an electric heating pad for her birthday along with an indecent amount of chocolate that didn't fit in Yachi's bag (and various other presents not concerning periods).

Shimizu Kiyoko:

The scars on her legs are fully healed, yet the skin there is thinner, and so the wounds reopen whenever she accidentally hurts herself there. They sting quite a bit, and though it's unusual, she hisses out loud when it's bad. Everyone agreed to make sure that medkit is always equipped with antiseptic cream. To this day, Kiyoko insists that it isn't necessary, but they disagree.

She always knows what to do when someone else feels sick, but she's unsure about what she'd do in case of her own sickness. She hasn't been sick in too long to know.

She hasn't gotten a cold since elementary school, and that one time when she thought she'd caught something, when she sneezed at the age of 16, it was actually just a bit of dust allergy. She doesn't even need meds for it.

Takeda Ittetsu:

He hardly gets sick, but he ends up hunched over the toilet more often than not after a Friday night out with his friends. He drinks quite a bit for a teacher, but only when he knows that he can do that without compromising his career or setting the wrong example. Hangovers also leave him a messy wreck, and that's why he only drinks on Fridays: that way, he has until Sunday night to recover.

For someone who's constantly surrounded by teenagers, he doesn't get sick much. He catches a cold every now and then, but nothing more serious than that. And when he's sick, he always tries to prevent the others from catching what he's got, without actually taking care of himself to heal.

Once, he got a fever of 40,1°C and luckily for him Ukai was coming over to discuss about the volleyball club; he found Takeda sprawled face-down in front of the open door. He was boiling, so Ukai took him to the hospital where he stayed for two days. ("I didn't think it was this bad." "So you knew you had a fever and still went to work?" "Yeah, but I had a mask on so that the others could be safe." "And you didn't buy medicine in the meantime?" "Ah, no." "...what the hell!?").

Ukai Keishin:

He catches a cold every other month, no matter how many layers of clothes he wears. These colds are often accompanied by low fevers, but he's used to those so he simply chugs some orange juice and moves on.

He tried to quit smoking countless times, especially since he started coaching these kids, but he can't help smoking at least three of cigs per day. Still, sometimes his chest aches a bit, and maybe it's just paranoia, but when that happens he doesn't touch tobacco for a couple of days.

His liver would even be able to survive Takeda's nights out; his guts, in general, are strong and he swears he's never felt nauseous in his whole life.

💫 I might think of more sick karasuno hc soon, but that's it for now. Expect more characters hc soon! Again, credit me if you use these, and please feel free to share this post! 💫

#friendly reminder that i wrote a emetophobic yamaguchi fic titled '(don't) hold it'. you can find it on ao3! i published it a week ago #i know i'm one day late with the update of those soft haikyuu fics but i'll post the chapter tomorrow morning #haikyuu!! #hq!! #haikyuu!! sickfic #haikyuu sickfic #sick hc #sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi #azumane asahi #nishinoya yuu #takana ryuunosuke #ennoshita chikara #narita kazuhito #kinoshita hisashi #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #yachi hitoka #shimizu kiyoko #takeda ittetsu #ukai keishin #karasuno #headcanon #headcanons #hc #sickfic prompts #prompts

[words-writ-in-starlight]

for the ship headcanon meme: star trek pairing of choice, #16-#20?

Bet you thought I forgot about this ask meme, fuckers!  And you’re right, I did, but the beauty of forgetting is that sometimes you remember.  Anyway, as always, it’s Michael/Saru Hours, lads.

16) When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

This is not a headcanon, but I have this fragment of a fic idea in my head based on this question, and that fragment of a fic idea is like...some kind of case fic where Discovery finds a planet being ravaged by Basically A Zombie Apocalypse and Michael and Saru get stranded there.  Ideally, for my personal enjoyment, I would want to slot it into the plot of s1 as early as possible, because the best/worst dynamic there would be Michael choking with guilt and yet still one of the finest scientific minds in Star Fleet, and Saru unable to keep himself from pressing on the fresh bruise of loss, unable to trust her, and the two of them still working together flawlessly.

Because that’s the thing, isn’t it?  Even when they can’t stand each other, they argue like a choreographed dance, and when the chips are down and they have to think on their feet, they still move like Georgiou’s trusted right and left hands.

Anyway.  That, but make it zombies.

17) When they find a time machine, where do they go?

If Michael came into possession of a time machine that actually allowed her to reliably control where she went and let her come back, I think she would sit down and try to do the temporal math to figure out how to avert the war.  I do not, however, believe that Michael and Saru, survivors of a fair amount of timeline hopping already, would actually risk going back in time.  I think they would both talk about wanting to go back, specifically because they know the other will talk them out of it, but I don’t think they would do it.

That being said, I would love a lotus eater prison AU where Michael and Saru are trapped in an idyllic dream of a world where the Shenzhou was never destroyed, Michael was being prepared to be promoted off the ship as a captain, and Saru was preparing to take her place, ft a lot of sadness about Georgiou and Michael and Saru working together to find a way to wake up.

18) When they fight, how do they make up?

Michael wears Raised On Vulcan tattooed on her face, sometimes, and especially when she defensive or guilty--if she’s angry with Saru, she’ll tell him exactly what she thinks he’s doing wrong, to his face, and it takes her a long time to learn that she should pull that punch a little more with people she cares about.  On the upside, that means that, when she feels like she’s been out of line and unnecessarily harsh, she’ll walk right up to Saru and tell him, blunt as anything, what she did, why she thinks it was wrong, and that she understands if he’s angry with her.  

This was initially…a weird experience for Saru on several levels, if he’s being honest.  A lot of his experience with people is colored heavily by the fact that very few people know how to deal with Kelpiens, and that means that he’s either handled like glass or he puts in the work to be treated like any of the other crew members. He’s not really sure how to deal with someone who handles him with exactly the same unemotional ruthlessness as everyone else, and it’s disorienting, and it makes him angry that it’s disorienting, because that’s what he wants, but also, Michael is sometimes an asshole.  She’s the first person that he’s ever argued with on the regular—really argued, a push and counterpush, shoving each other away from the science console and pulling out ad hominem attacks in a way that visibly infuriates Michael’s Vulcan training.  But quite frankly, they never felt like they needed to apologize for those early fights, under Georgiou.  It was part of the ship dynamic, to have Burnham and Saru trying to take strips off each other in a very professional and scientific manner.  As long as Saru never took a cheap shot over Michael’s upbringing and Michael resisted the impulse to go full xenoanthropologist on Saru’s species, they were very good at fighting.

(Personally I am of the belief that Michael only tried to pull the I understand where you’re coming from because of what your species makes you after the mutiny, after she was trying to be nice.  Before then, she expected Saru to perform to her standards and fuck the details.  Half the reason he’s so coldly furious with her over it is because he knows she’s trying to manipulate him, because if she wasn’t, she would never play that card, because no matter how nasty their fights were, she always fought with him as a person, not as a Kelpien.)

19) Where do they go on their first date?

There’s a fic that bounces around my brain every time I watch Discovery, and it’s about Michael and Saru having a first date (sort of) very late at night, when they’re both having trouble sleeping.  It’s not an arranged date, they’re not even really friends even though they’ve gotten past the stage of Michael letting Saru flay her alive for her guilt, but Michael is having trouble sleeping and she’s not a prisoner anymore, so she wanders, and Saru, frankly, sleeps like hypervigilant garbage since the Binary Stars, so he has a preferred hiding spot on one of Discovery’s few observation decks.  As Lorca likes to point out, they’re not a goddamn pleasure cruiser, but Star Fleet never built a ship without at least one view panel, not even their top-secret war machine.

Michael is avoiding people—she hates being asked why she’s awake, gets tangled up in her automatic shame over not being able to control her emotions.  It’s the middle of the “night” by ship standards, but Discovery seethes with activity around the clock, especially since Stamets pulls regular all-nighters when he gets really entranced and often has to be peeled away from his work by Local Exasperated Doctor Hugh Culber.  So she ducks into the parts of the ship that she usually doesn’t go, the places that are more for socializing and are empty at this hour, the places that aren’t often used, the places that are quiet.

She finds the observation deck dim and blessedly silent, with the stars spreading infinitely outside.  The room is faintly lit by the nebula off to the starboard bow, the one they’re using to hide their signature while they run some necessary repairs.  It’s a practical use, but it’s also beautiful, every window in the ship glowing with warm reds and golds, and Michael still finds the stars soothing after all this time, and so she drifts up to the glass with the vague plan of sitting down and spending an hour or two there in an attempt at meditation.  She only sees Saru, leaning back against the edge of the viewing window, when she’s close enough to nearly trip over one of his long legs, stretched out in front of him.

Michael, of course, apologizes, and turns to leave.  Saru never really does have a good answer, as to why he stops her.  But he doesn’t ask any questions about why she’s awake and she doesn’t ask any questions about what he’s doing here, and instead they sit in relative quiet for a while before Saru sits up straighter and offers Michael, again, a small bowl of fruit. It’s not familiar to her, this time, but he says it won’t hurt her, that it’s sort of like a lychee, and she believes him.  It leaves a bit of thin red juice on her fingers when she bites into the first one, and he recommends eating them whole to avoid it while she ruefully sucks the juice off her thumb.  It’s good—less sweet than she expected.  Saru settles next to her in the middle of the window and sets the bowl between them, and she asks how he always manages to have fresh fruit, and he admits that he can wring a lot more out of the replicators since he never gets meat. Somehow it turns into—talking.

Michael is startled to realize, around the hour mark of murmured conversation, that she might have literally never just talked to Saru before. It’s—nice.

(Because I’m physiologically incapable of letting things be nice, if I wrote this fic there would be an immediate sequel of Observation Deck Chats Redux, featuring them doing basically the same thing but after Michael gets back from the Mirrorverse.  Michael leans against Saru’s shoulder in a way that she would never, if she hadn’t been awake with nightmares and grief for pushing three days, and she tells him about the Empire like she’s confessing her sins, and they talk quietly about the ghost haunting their ship in the shape of Empress Philippa Georgiou. It’s not nice, but not for lack of kindness.)

20) Where do they go on holiday?

I think Saru and Michael would have two very distinct kinds of “holiday” and they have two destinations accordingly.

The first kind of holiday is Nerd Holiday, in which they find an unexplored planet and appoint themselves to the away team—everyone else on the away team is wryly aware that they are, essentially, third-wheeling a date, but Discovery has watched this whole situation unfold and honestly the popular opinion is that it would actually be easier to deal with a little bit of PDA than the current Very Professional Mutual Adoration Show.  Local Red Shirt Absolutely Agonized By The Very Correct Ten Inches Of Space Between Her Captain And First Officer, Reports As They Come.  Michael and Saru are pleasantly unaware of this and are having a great time arguing over whether they need another sample of that plant if it’s just a different color.

The second kind of holiday is actual fucking shore leave.  They both prefer planets or stations with a large variety of species—Saru is uneasy with being the center of attention among strangers, and since he stands head and shoulders above a decent percentage of the Federation, it’s hard to avoid unless they’re in mixed company; Michael never quite recovered from the perpetual sense of disjoint when it comes to being around all humans or all Vulcans, so being in a place where everyone is different makes her feel less out of place.  Neither of them like big crowds, so they’re the tourists who immediately leave the usual Tourist Area and find somewhere else to be, which has its ups and downs.  The first time they get into trouble on a totally safe colony planet because they decided to go exploring, there’s a beat of them looking at each other and silently agreeing that they won’t be telling the crew about this, because there’s already a running ship joke about what trouble magnets they are and they do NOT need to feed anyone more material.

#star trek #star trek discovery #michael burnham #saru #michael x saru #i'm trying to think of more things to say but WOW my brain is full of fog today #i want to write that observation deck fic very badly #also you can't tell me that there weren't some WILD theories on the shenzhou about michael and saru #some helmsman goes to his friends and goes 'y'all are never going to believe it but saru TOUCHED burnham' #and all his friends go 'no one touches burnham she's got that vulcan nine-foot personal space thing going on' #and he's like 'yeah but they were arguing and he just like grabbed her elbow and MOVED HER' #'and she kept arguing with him and just came back and fully hip-checked him away from the console' #and there were probably some Theories is what i'm saying #michael is less obviously Touch Me Not on discovery of course #but once there start being some Theories on discovery for SURE one of the shenzhou survivors is like #'ah yes the eternal burnham and saru debate. you are like little babies. [lays out seven Y E A R S of gossip].' #a queue we will keep and our honor someday avenge #meri47 #asked and answered

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Out of curiosity, do Callie and chris ever run into each other/ confront each other after

CW: Referenced head-banging and resulting injury, brief ableism references, gaslighting, vaguely referenced institutional pet whump

(for context, see This Isn’t Hypothetical For Chris, “Can You Come Get Me?”, No Words, and Drop)

“Um. Hey.”

Chris, in the midst of a careful, incredibly precise drawing of a tiny Easter Island moai while studying for the Non-Western Art History test, looks up, only to freeze, his fingers tensing around his pencil until he presses so hard the lead snaps off, rolling down the notebook.

His hair is pulled back, caught at his nape with a clip Mari let him borrow, but he wishes all at once that it weren’t, so he could shake it over his face, hide behind it. That it wasn’t blue but some color no one saw in a crowd, so she wouldn’t have seen him and known it was him.

He hesitates too long, and she shifts, moving herself into his field of vision again. “Chris, are you-... are you busy?”

“Hey, um, hi... hi, Callie,” Chris mumbles, looking back down again, clicking the end of the mechanical pencil to get more lead, enjoying the sound and the very slight press of the eraser against his thumb. “I’m just, just studying. What, um, what do, do, do-do you... what do you want?”

She seems to take it as an invitation, which it isn’t. When she pulls out the chair across the table, the legs scrape along the floor impossibly loudly, but only Chris seems bothered by it. The sound makes his teeth itch, a feeling he can’t possibly describe in any other way. When he moves the chair, he picks it up, carefully placing it back down, avoiding the sound that shudders through him and digs into the tiniest bones. 

Everyone else just scrapes. 

She tucks some of her own bouncy, wavy brown hair behind one ear. It’s chilly today, it was so foggy this morning Chris could barely see from one side of the bridge to the other when he crossed over the highway to the other side of campus to get some coffee to help him cram before the test. Callie is wearing a heavy cable-knit sweater that drapes just so off one shoulder, showing the silken strap there, and skintight dark jeans. She looks really pretty, but Chris mostly thinks everyone looks pretty. 

Even Dylan in the morning looks pretty, with his hair all messed up. Even though Chris is still kind of mad at him and probably always will be. 

Chris is in his usual thick black compression shirt, helping him hold off the weight of the lights, keeping the prickle of the Student Center from digging too deeply into his skin. Over that, a t-shirt from the Lion King musical that Mari brought back from her last trip home - (”I have like five, now, Chris, I’ve seen it in like six different places you can have this one, if you want? It’s from when I saw it in Chicago.” And of course he did, he is starting a small collection of shirts he had gotten from nearly everyone he knows), and one of Jake’s heavy sweater-coats, borrowed - but really stolen - from the house last weekend. Jake pretends not to know. Chris brings them back eventually.

Between Chris and Kauri, it’s a miracle Jake ever has anything warm to wear at all.

“So, I just-... I wanted to, um. I haven’t seen you around-... oh, did you get hurt?” She cocks her head to the side, and Chris looks away from her, spinning the pencil in his fingers, his foot tapping on the ground now, nervous energy bubbling inside him. 

There’s a bandage, still, on his forehead. He wishes he could say it was from the day in class, but it’s not. It’s from a few days ago, after meeting with the grad student to sign stuff to drop the class. It’s from coming home with all his hurt and fear a spinning top that he could only calm by breaking its rhythm, and he’s, it’s regression, but it’s okay, sometimes you go back and you get back up and go forward again, Dr. Berger says it’s okay sometimes to backslide as long as you know you have people to help you get up-

“I’m fine,” He says, flat and smooth words, barely his own voice at all. “Hit my head on, on, on a cabinet.”

Technically true.

She nods, folding her hands in her lap, watching him with those sort of big sad eyes people get sometimes, when they’re working up to something and want you to know they’re not the bad guy. Her drink has a cloth sleeve on it with tiny little bow ties. He wonders if she made it herself.

She clears her throat. “Okay, um. Good to hear it. So... I just... I heard you dropped.”

“Yep.” Chris keeps his eyes down now, on his pencil. The gentle weight of his feather necklace reminds him that he has other options, too. For now, though, he spins his pencil on top of his open notebook, the drawing of the moai. “Who told you that, um, that-... that I, I dropped?”

“I mean, when you weren’t in class for a couple weeks-... you know at first I thought you just, like, you know... the teacher told you not to come by, but then you kept not coming, and...” She kind of throws her hands up. Hers are painted a cheerful blue-toned red. Chris’s are black, but they’re heavily chipped. He’s been picking at them again. “I asked Esh, finally, and he said-”

“Eshiram.”

“What?” She blinks, confused. 

“Not Esh. His, his, his name’s Eshiram.”

“No, I know, I just-... whatever. Look, so, I get that you’re probably still pretty mad, and... I’ve kind of been trying to hunt you down to say I’m sorry.”

Chris, caught off guard, pauses in spinning his pencil and turns to look at her again. “What?”

“About... I would never, ever have wanted you to feel you had to drop the class, Chris, I swear.” She leans forward, all earnest sincerity, and there’s a look of guilt on her that makes him think she means it. It wasn’t her idea, after all - if she’s even fucking talking to him, she doesn’t know what he is, she didn’t catch it like the grad student did.

After the drawn out moment, his foot starts to tap on the floor again. “It’s, um, it’s, it’s, it’s okay,” He says, wishing he had his own drink, something to hold in his hands and sip. The nerves start to wind up inside him, and he drops one hand down where she can’t see it, starts to tap on the side of his thigh.

“No, it’s not.” Callie sighs, shaking her head. Her hair moves with the motion and he catches a hint of her shampoo, it smells like fruit and honey. “It’s not, Chris. Look, I just-... I took everything you said super personally, and that wasn’t okay. I get that you, you know, you weren’t really talking about me.”

Chris turns to look at her, blinking wide green eyes, thinking, Yes, I was.

He opens his mouth to maybe tell her, but the pause goes on too long and she’s already talking again before he can. “There’s all these reports about abuse, and everything, I swear more than ever, and it just-... puts me on edge, you know? So I heard you saying-... well, you know. You don’t know that things are better at our house. All you know is what you’ve, you know, seen on the news.”

Chris takes in a breath and holds it, tapping hard against the seam of his jeans. He isn’t going to get angry. Getting angry made him have to drop and lose points off his GPA, getting angry gets him noticed by too many people all at once, angry feels heavy and hurting, angry draws attention, attention mean eyes and hands and-

Let the breath out. Exhale. He has to purposefully remind himself to do it.

“I, I, I know more than, um, than that,” He manages to say, but his voice is small. He’s no good at being angry, when it’s not in the moment, when there’s nothing to draw him out of himself. “I don’t, don’t just... build sets all day, Callie, I’m, I’m, I know other, um, other things.”

“Yeah, I know, I know. Like, I’m surprised you’re not, like, a math major or something, like in that movie-”

Chris sits back and snorts out bitter laughter. “You, you, you mean, um, The Gift?”

“Yeah! Vincent Shield did such a good job, they said he did a bunch of like, work to really get into character which is so cool since he was only, like, sixteen when he did that one with that, you know, the other guy he did movies with all the time-”

“Owen-... Owen Grant.”

“Yeah! I wonder what happened to him. Anyway-”

“Do you, do... do, do, do you think-... Callie, I suck at, um, at math.” Chris can’t help himself. He starts to laugh at the absurdity, and Callie looks like he’s hit her across the face, wide-eyed, shocked. “This is, um, this, this is, this-... this is a really, really-... really bad apology.”

“Yeah, I know.” Callie kind of laughs along with him, then, but there’s something fake and brittle to her laughter. “But I swear, I just came to say I’m sorry. It was just a misunderstanding, I really didn’t mean for you to have to drop. I swear, Chris, I don’t, like, hate you or think anything bad about you-”

You called me a fucking spastic.

“-or anything like that. I just... can you forgive me for losing my temper? I’m sorry, it’s just, when my family is attacked by people who don’t even know us, I get super defensive, and-... and I should have realized you weren’t really attacking us, just, you know, the system.”

Chris stares down at his shoes. He thinks, you are the system, it doesn’t exist without people like you who buy us, but he doesn’t say anything.

She seems to take this as agreement.

It isn’t.

“So, yeah. I’m just... I’m really sorry, Chris. Will this throw your whole, you know, graduation and everything off, or do you think you’ll still be good?”

Does she even really care? Chris swallows and raises his head, to look at her again, fixing his eyes just slightly to the left of her face, where it won’t be obvious he isn’t focused on her. An old trick, one he used to do to stay safe in training, maybe... maybe before that.

Even though he can’t remember a before that anymore.

Because of people who buy people like him.

“I’ll, um, I’ll be good,” He says, and the words taste like dust and feel like gravel on his tongue. “I worked out a, a, a-a plan with, with my, um advisor. So I’ll... I’ll be-”

so good for you

“Fine.”

“Great.” She relaxes, all smiles again, and reaches over putting her hand over his left arm, gripping a little. Chris feels the weight of it like the clap of restraints forcing him down on a table and stiffens, looking right at her the way he’s supposed to.

Years go by, but the training isn’t gone. Not all the way.

“Listen,” She says, voice low. “I really am sorry. But you just-... can’t go around thinking everybody who does something you don’t like is bad, you know?”

His heart races in his throat, he can barely swallow around it. “Yes,” He says, softly. She doesn’t hear the first stirrings of panic. But he feels them. “I... know.”

Good boy.

“I’ll see you around, Chris, okay? I’m glad we talked about this.” She pats his arm, like a handler almost, and then pushes herself to her feet. The chair scrapes back and Chris’s teeth grind together as the sound ricochets around inside him. The dim warm lights overhead lay heavily over the fabric he wears to protect himself from touch like that.

It’s not enough.

He can still feel the hand on his arm as she walks away, heads out the double-doors and is gone.

Chris’s hand slides to the feather and he pushes the silicone plastic between his teeth, letting his tongue press up against the carved vanes, sinking into the familiar sensation, letting it wrap around him, calm his pulse, help him rebuild the thin wall he needs between himself and the world.

He stares blankly off into space, chewing the feather, unnoticed by the few other people in the Student Center this early in the morning. 

She probably feels so much better.

Like so many other people in his life, she made herself feel better by making Chris feel so much worse.

After a while, still chewing on the feather, he picks his pencil back up and starts to draw another moai.

He’s probably going to fail this test.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

#chris the strawberry blond romantic #trauma recovery #caledonia and her family #box boy #box boy universe #ableism tw #stimming #neurodivergent whumpee #recovering whumpee #gaslighting tw #bbu capitalism #honestly I suppose it kind of hits on that #trauma response #conditioning

[spidercakes]

I would kill for Tony who doesn't really sub or bottom but when Peter convinces him, he absolutely loves it but only because its Peter. Peter tying him up and ducking him till he cums dry? Loves it. Peter laying across Tony's back while they do it from behind? He loves the weight. Peter being an awesome dom even with the aftercare? Please and thank you

Yas boi! I took it in a slightly different direction, but its still what’s in the prompt!

Warnings: bondage, blindfolds, praise kink, orgasm delay, begging, smut.

*

It had mostly been an accident, Peter ending up the one in charge here. Its not that Tony doesn’t enjoy being on the more submissive side, or that he doesn’t enjoy bottoming, actually he prefers it. He’s got a stressful job that he probably makes harder on himself with his own stupid antics, but still. Its stressful and sometimes he doesn’t want to have to think, to make another fucking decision and he wants to let go. Before Peter inventing took up that task because it comes easy to him, math and science were an easy refuge to take when he has to think so little about what he’s doing.

After Peter though things changed some. It’d been an accident and Tony does it naturally when he gets comfortable with people, allows them a modicum of control in his life. Everyone is a little different- Happy gets to look after his safety and Tony mostly doesn’t think about it because he knows Happy is devoted, sometimes a little too devoted. Pepper is entrusted with all things business, she’s just as smart as him in that area or smarter depending on what needs to be done. Rhodey gets veto in emotional situations because unlike Tony he’s actually good at emotional reasoning and has an actual amount of emotional intelligence. Tony mostly feels like he’s floundering about half the time and he's never been a good judge of character. For all his suspicion he’s not very good at keeping to himself.

Peter, though, somehow ended up in charge of sexual situations. Could, he thinks, be because he’s younger and Tony figured what the hell, let him experiment and figure out what he likes. Tony already has answers to those questions so sure, letting Peter test a few things out wouldn’t really do much. Its not like he had anything against Peter’s suggestions really, its just that people have a strange set of assumptions when it comes to sex and who enjoys what. And Tony has never been fond of anyone who assumes sticking their dick in his ass somehow gives them control over him or means they’re dominant or whatever. Same thing with being supposedly submissive in other areas and so he mostly avoided those things however much he liked them. He felt it best not to play into people’s assumptions lest the consequences be more than he can handle. And that’s happened more than once.

But Peter never really made those assumptions in his exploration, maybe also because of his youth because the youths are pretty fond on not making assumptions, so Tony let him continue on with it. Its not like he wasn’t enjoying himself and without Peter making weird assumptions that he somehow had something over on Tony he found he enjoyed letting Peter handle things a hell of a lot more than he had with anyone else.

“Get out of your head,” Peter all but growls at him. Tony has to clamp his mouth shut to keep from making a noise because Christ Peter maybe hasn’t had a lot of sexual partners before him but he clearly picked up a fucking trick or ten along the way because he’s good. And Peter informs him that he’s really easy to read in bed so figuring out what he liked hadn’t been difficult. Still, if Peter wants him to not make any noise he’s going to get stuck with Tony thinking about something.

“If I’m fucking you, I want you present,” Peter tells him. Yeah, he knows, they’ve talked about it before and Peter knows, he knows how hard this is for Tony. Even if he wasn’t naturally vocal Peter is naturally good and he’s doing that thing Tony likes with his hips and he knows he likes it when he keeps a tight grip on Tony’s hips like that and- “Don’t even think about it,” Peter tells him, knowing him well enough to know what he’s thinking.

He has to keep his whimper to himself so instead he clenches his fists, currently tied to his headboard by his wrists, in an attempt to let some of his frustration go. Peter leans forward, removing one hand from his hip and bracketing Tony’s head in with his arm and he wishes he could see Peter’s face but that mostly makes this more difficult on his end. Peter pretty quickly figured out that he gets almost more pleasure from making his partner feel good than any stimulation on his end. Hence the blindfold, helps him out a little when Peter decides to play his games and Tony likes it too, not quite knowing what to expect from Peter next, the way he forces Tony to remain some kind of alert. Doesn’t always work, its harder when Peter tells him to be quiet because he has to do something to occupy himself while he tries to hold it in but still.

“God, you’re being so good for me this time,” Peter tells him and Tony bites his lip hard. Fuck, mean little bastard he knows how much Tony likes it when Peter tells him he’s good. “You haven’t even made a sound and I can see how much you want to,” Peter tells him, kissing the underside of Tony’s jaw. He tilts his head up to give Peter more access and oh, he doesn’t expect Peter’s teeth to graze that sensitive spot and he has to work to keep quiet.

Peter continues to tease the sensitive spot on his neck and Tony squirms, unable to help himself as Peter thrusts into him soft and slow the way he likes. He wants to make noise, wants to do something but with his hands tied and instructions to keep quiet all he can do is arch his back and pant heavily as he does his best not to do more than that. Peter moans softly in his ear and Tony tries he does but he can’t help the smallest moan in response.

“Shh, don’t ruin a good streak baby, I will leave you here,” he murmurs in Tony’s ear. He wants to protest that, tell Peter that’s not fair at all because that was barely even a slip up and fuck Peter picks up his pace and all Tony can to is swallow his gasp. “Be good for me baby, and I’ll take care of you,” Peter tells him, lips brushing up against his ear and Tony’s eyes roll back a little.

He tugs at his restraints, unsure how to handle himself when he’s restricted from making noise. Peter doesn’t feel the need to follow his own rules and the soft moans he’s letting out are doing more to push Tony to the edge than bring him back from it. He can hear his breathing pick up both from his effort not to make noise and from his effort at holding back humming. He loves all the little noises Peter makes, the way his face looks when he’s really into it, that Tony is the one who does that to him. For him. He bites his lip hard, trying to focus on something else for a moment.

“M’so close,” Peter tells him, voice right in his ear and Tony doesn’t mean to, really, but the moan he lets out can’t be helped. He loves this, loves driving Peter right to the edge and the way his body reacts, god.

Peter pauses and Tony huffs, shaking his head. “No, no, no, no, Peter I gotta cum, please baby I can’t-” he starts but Peter leans in and kisses him softly.

“S’okay baby, I’ll let you,” he says and Tony breathes a sigh of relief as Peter keeps going and yeah that’s what he wants. Without any further instruction to keep quiet he doesn’t bother, allowing himself to react the way he normally would.

“Yeah, Peter, like that. Feel so-oh, yes!” he says, tugging at his restraints again. Peter remains suspiciously quiet but Tony chooses not to dwell on it as Peter’s hand tightens on his hip while the other curls into his hair a little awkwardly considering his position.

“Gunna cum with me, baby?” he asks and Tony nods as frantically as he can with Peter gripping his hair like that. “M’close Tony, so close. You feel so good around me, so tight,” he says in Tony’s ear.

“Fuck, Peter I don’t know if I can hold on much longer,” he says, toes curling as his back arches further into Peter. He’s going to feel that later but he doesn’t care.

“Yes you can,” Peter tells him, “you can hold on until I do.” He leans into Tony’s neck, sucking at that fucking sensitive spot and Tony swears he’s seeing fucking stars as his moans get louder.

“Peter,” Tony says, almost incoherent, lost in sensation. “Please,” he adds and Peter gasps softly. Tony latches onto it fast, “please baby, please let me cum I wanna so bad please!” he gasps out, fingers curling into his palms as Peter moans in his ear.

“Oh my god Tony, oh-” his hips stutter to a stop and Tony cums too, eyes rolling back as his mouth drops open from pleasure because fuck that was good.

*

Tony is curled against Peter’s chest and he likes this part almost as much as the sex. Peter always takes such good care of him, petting him softly, cleaning him up, feeding him fruits usually. Now is no exception and Tony always feels a little clinger after they do stuff like this anyway. It takes a lot out of him and Peter knows that and accommodates.

He pets Tony’s arm softly, fingers running up and down his skin. “How long will you be gone on that business trip?” he asks softly.

Ugh, not that Tony wanted to go but sadly he’s the damn CEO so he doesn’t get the luxury of skipping out. Actually, he could if he wanted to but he’s a control freak so he won’t. Probably irritates people how often he gets involved in their business when a lot of other people wouldn’t care enough to bother but that’s not his problem.

“A week, why?” he asks. Peter has exams, he lined it up that way on purpose so that Peter won’t miss him so much. Exams are a pretty time consuming distraction and he doesn’t want Peter to feel like he’s waiting around for his return.

Peter kisses the top of his head. “No phone sex, no video sex, no jerking off,” he tells Tony and he lets out an offended noise.

“What?” he asks, turning to face Peter.

He has the audacity to lean forward and kiss him too. “I told you to stay quiet, baby. Maybe next time you’ll listen,” Peter tells him.

Tony sputters for a moment. “No!” he says with meaning and Peter shakes his head.

“Baby, give up the fight now. We both know you’re going to do what I tell you to or I’m going to extend your punishment and you get bitchy when you don’t get your way. Neither of us want to deal with that,” he says, pulling Tony back into him.

He goes, but not willingly. “Should have fucking known something was off when you let me cum,” he mutters darkly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Peter snickers, leaning in and kissing the top of his head again. “If you held back on that I would have let it go,” Peter tells him. He laughs harder when Tony turns around to glare at him and he must have some type of look on his face because Peter thinks its hilarious.

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #fanfiction

[notalwaysthevillian]

Parent Trapped

Warnings: Anxiety, self-deprecation, food mention

Pairings: Eventual Romantic Remile, platonic LAMP

Word Count: ~3k

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Masterlist

Chapter 2: First Week of School

The next morning should’ve been absolute chaos, but it went surprisingly smooth. Emile woke first, getting ready for the day before heading downstairs to make breakfast for the boys. Patton was the next to rise, jumping in the shower as Virgil came downstairs to eat. The two switched places when Patton was done.

Once everyone was ready to go, the three of them made sure they had everything before jumping in the car.

“Are you guys excited for your first day?”

Virgil shrank in his seat. “You mean our first day in the middle of the school year? When we know absolutely no one and we’re the freaky new kids?”

“V, it’s okay.” Patton reached over and squeezed his hand. “We have a few classes together, and since we’re new we’ll probably sit together. And we share the same lunch.”

“I’ve talked to the principal over email.” Emile glanced at his sons in the back. “He seems like a very nice man. When I mentioned your anxiety disorder he said that he’d let the teachers know.”

Shrinking even further, Virgil threw his hoodie up. After a moment, he bolted upright. “What if they make me take my hood down?”

“They won’t, I made sure of it.” Emile said, his voice stern. “And if any of the teachers give you trouble for it, I want you to tell Mr. Sanders at the earliest opportunity. He understands that it helps you feel less anxious, even if it’s only a little bit.”

They pulled up to the school. There were kids pouring in from the buses, as well as the parking lot. Patton looked excited, but Virgil looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“I believe in you.” Emile smiled at him in the mirror.

Steeling his shoulders, Virgil got out of the car. He hunched over immediately, glancing at Patton who was still in the car.

“I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Patton just caught Emile’s nod as he got out of the car. Once the boys were at a safe distance from the curb, he drove off, waving in the mirror.

“We should go find our lockers.” Virgil mumbled, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie.

The two of them fell into step as they headed down the hallway. A few people turned to look at them, but for the most part people kept to themselves.

The whispers were what worried Virgil. Especially when he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

They’re talking about you.

They think you’re a freak.

You’re not going to fit in here no matter how hard you try.

Luckily, Patton had noticed as soon as Virgil started to sink into his thoughts. He bumped their shoulders together, getting Virgil’s attention.

“What’s your first class?”

Virgil pulled out his schedule. He scanned the first column, glad that the school had been kind enough to give them a map along with their schedules. Not that the building was very big anyway.

“Um...Physical Science.”

“I’ll run into you as you leave then.” Patton said, putting his schedule up to Virgil’s. “I have that one second hour. You’ll have to warn me if there’s a pop quiz.”

Virgil couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Definitely. And you’ll have to warn me about any in English.”

“Of course.”

They reached their lockers, which were side by side, and quickly dumped what they wouldn’t need until after lunch.

“I can walk you to science if you want.” Patton offered.

Virgil shook his head. “I can’t be the freak that needs his brother to walk him to his classes.”

“V…”

“I’ll be okay. Promise.”

Virgil held out his pinky. Patton took it and they shook.

“See you in Algebra!” Patton said as he headed off.

Virgil turned around, heading in the opposite direction. It took him about two minutes to find the science hallway. He walked down the hall, checking the room numbers against his schedule, double checking when he found the right room.

He walked in, heading up to the teacher’s desk immediately. Mrs. Calypso glanced up as he approached, giving him a genuine smile.

“Virgil, right?” She said, keeping her voice low. “I’m Mrs. Calypso. Tho - Principal Sanders talked to me about your anxiety, so I won’t be introducing you to the class.”

Reaching into a drawer, she pulled out a textbook. There was a toucan emblazoned on the cover. “This is our textbook. You guys actually came in at a really good time, most of us are starting new sections today. I don’t think Le - Mr. Anderson is starting anything new, but volleyball is pretty easy to pick up.”

“Thank you.” Virgil took the textbook from her. He shifted his weight. “Um...where should I sit?”

“Oh! Right.” She glanced at a sheet of paper in front of her. “Logan sits by himself, you could join him.”

She pointed to a small boy with perfectly styled red hair. His glasses were a lot different than Patton’s. Patton preferred round glasses, but this boy seemed to prefer the square ones. It made him look smart and slightly intimidating.

As Virgil approached, Logan looked up from his book. “Hello. My name is Logan.”

“Mrs. Calypso told me.” Virgil said, wanting to mentally smack himself immediately. “I’m Virgil.”

Logan nodded, glancing at the clock above Virgil’s head. “I suggest you skim over the chapter. It’ll help you be able to answer Mrs. Calypso’s questions faster.”

“Cool.”

Virgil pulled out his notebook, folder, and a pencil before dropping his backpack at his feet. He started going over the first few paragraphs of the chapter, interrupted when the bell rang.

“Alright, class, if you’d open your books to chapter eight, we can get started.”

Virgil’s first few classes went by fairly quickly. Mrs. Calypso was extremely nice. A few times he’d panicked, thinking she was going to call on him, but she called on Logan instead. He was obviously the smartest kid in the class, something Virgil was grateful for.

When science had ended, Logan had given him a smile before heading out. Virgil bumped into Patton on the way to English, letting him know there wasn’t a pop quiz and getting a giggle in response.

Mx. Stokes was just as cool as Mrs. Calypso was nice. They had a huge non-binary flag up on the wall, informed Virgil of their pronouns right away, and had handed him a small Shakespeare anthology.

“We’re working our way through Hamlet right now.” They’d said as they handed the book over. “If you know the Lion King, you’re good.”

Virgil was glad he wasn’t picked on to read any of the lines, knowing he’d mess it up. Instead he gave his opinion on what a few of the pieces of foreshadowing were, earning a smile and nod from Mx. Stokes in the process.

By the time he reached math, he was a lot calmer. None of the students seemed to really care that there were some new kids, ignoring him since he was ignoring them.

“You look happy.” Patton said once Virgil had sat down next to him.

Mr. Lockwood shut the door as soon as the bell rang. One unlucky student showed up a few seconds later, opening the door and slinking to their desk.

“We have a few new students today.” He gestured to Virgil and Patton. Virgil immediately started sinking in his seat. “Virgil and Patton Picani. You can get to know them on your own time. Our new unit today is polynomials.”

There were a few groans from the class.

“Yes, yes, I know, math sucks. It’s still my job to teach you and get you to understand the material by any means necessary.” After a moment of silence, he pulled out a remote. “And today’s means are a video.”

The class cheered as the projector was turned on, starting to warm up.

After one more class without Patton, since he’d opted for Spanish and Patton had opted for ASL, they met at their lockers.

“ASL is so much fun!” He gushed as they dumped their morning books and grabbed their stuff for the afternoon. “Our teacher, Talyn, shows us videos while we do the signs. It’s so much easier to figure it out that way!”

“That’s really cool, Pat.” Virgil slipped his backpack straps over his shoulders as they walked to the lunchroom.

Since the school was small, the lunchroom was too. Virgil was relieved to find out that it wasn’t the giant, two-story area he was thinking of. High School Musical wasn’t the best depiction of high school, but it was all he knew.

They moved through the line, grabbing some rubbery looking pizza, a fruit cup, and a sugar cookie.

“This looks nasty.” Virgil said as they sat at an empty table in the corner. “I’m definitely packing a lunch the rest of the year.”

“It might not be that bad!” Patton took a bite of the pizza. “The pizza is okay. No Little Caesar’s, but it’s...edible.”

The two of them choked down their lunches. By the time they were finished, the cafeteria was mostly cleared out. Following the few students left, Patton and Virgil found that most of the students headed off to wherever they wanted to, using their spare lunch time as a little bit of a free period.

Virgil glanced at the kids before starting to shuffle down the hall. “I’m gonna get my stuff and head to History.”

“Okay!” Patton started walking with him. “I’m gonna head to the gym. Mr. Anderson should probably know how clumsy I am before he decides where I’m going on the volleyball court.”

“You’re not that clumsy.”

The two of them burst into giggles at Virgil’s claim. Patton was known for tripping over the slightest thing. Sometimes that included his own feet. But Virgil and their dad never made him feel bad about it, telling Patton that it simply added to his charm.

Once they’d gathered their stuff from their lockers, the two of them went their separate ways once more. Virgil headed off to history with Mr. Foote, and Patton headed to the gym.

There were a few students already over there, heading into the locker room. Patton went into the gym first, hoping to talk to Mr. Anderson before class started.

“Woah, you need your uniform tod -” Mr. Anderson stopped himself. “I apologize, you must be one of the new students. Let me see...Patton?”

“That’s me!” Patton said, giving him a smile. “I wanted to warn you before class started. I’m really clumsy.”

“Even the clumsiest among us can be great athletes.” Mr. Anderson looked up, marking a few students off on his clipboard. “Don’t worry, Patton, I’m here to make sure no one gets hurt, whether it be intentional or an accident. And when I can’t prevent that, Nurse Britches does an excellent job at patching people up.”

Patton giggled, leaving Mr. Anderson to talk to the students who had just walked in. He quickly changed into his uniform and tennis shoes, throwing the rest of his stuff in his gym locker.

“You’re new.”

Green eyes looked up at Patton from the nearest bench. The boy was tying his shoes, the red accents matching his bandana perfectly.

“I’m Patton.”

The boy stood, flicking his hair out of his eyes. “Roman.”

“I thought we had to wear the uniform.” Patton said as they headed out of the locker room.

Roman shot him a mischievous grin. “If you check the handbook, the rules say we have to wear the uniform. It doesn’t say anything about us not being able to add anything to it. Though once Principal Sanders figures that out, he’ll probably fix it for next year.”

Patton let out a giggle. “I mean, you’re still following the rules.”

“Technically, yeah.”

They filed into the gym with the rest of the class. Mr. Anderson, who insisted Patton call him Coach Leo, split them up into teams before letting them loose.

Patton was lucky enough to be on Roman’s team. “I’m pretty clumsy, so…”

“Everyone gets a turn in each spot.” Roman said, nudging him into the back center. “Of course, that’s if the other team can hit the ball back over. I’m the best server in the class.”

Class flew by, with Roman scoring point after point. Once he’d fully decimated the other team, Coach Leo called out a rule that servers could only score five points in a row, and then the team had to rotate.

“Doesn’t matter, we’ll still win.” Roman mumbled under his breath.

And he was right. Their team was the winner at the end of class, with no losses on their record.

“Tomorrow we’ll work on some of the basics again.” Coach Leo said as the bell rang.

Roman and Patton headed to the locker room to change back into their normal clothes.

“So where did you sit at lunch today?” Roman asked, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Over in the corner with my twin.”

“You have a twin?!” Roman practically shrieked.

No one gave them a second glance, telling Patton that he must do this a lot. “Mhmm. His name is Virgil.”

“Well, I cannot wait to meet your twin tomorrow.” When he noticed Patton’s confused look, Roman continued. “You two have to sit with me and my friends. And my brother.”

“Your brother isn’t your friend?”

Roman waved a hand in the air. “Kinda sorta. I gotta run to English, see you later!”

By the time the day was over, Patton was loaded down with homework. He was happy to see Virgil when he reached his locker to get all the books he’d need.

“Why is there so much to do?!” Virgil asked as he packed practically all of their textbooks into his backpack. The zipper refused to go up all the way, so he just left it open a crack.

Patton shrugged. “Because we came in during the middle of the year?”

“Nah, it’s just because everyone started a new section on the same day.” Tanya told them as she walked up. Her bubblegum snapped as she popped a bubble. “It’s not normally like that.”

“I guess we’re just lucky.” Hoisting up his backpack, Virgil slung it over one shoulder. “We should go find Dad.”

Patton nodded before turning to Tanya. “Did you need a ride home?”

“Nah, I take the bus.” Tanya adjusted her backpack. “Gives me some time with my friends. But I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye!”

The Picanis headed out of the double doors, finding their dad waiting a little down the block. As soon as they got in, he gave them a huge smile.

“How was school?”

Virgil and Patton looked at each other. Virgil waved his hand and Patton started talking first.

“It was a lot of fun, even though we have a lot of homework. I met a lot of people and I made a new friend! His name is Roman, he’s in my gym class. Oh! And my ASL teacher is super cool. They show us videos to learn the signs and it makes it a lot easier. Um...I think that’s it.”

“I’m glad you made a friend! He’ll have to come over sometime soon so I can meet him.” Emile switched his gaze to his other son in the rearview mirror. “Virgil? How’d it go?”

“It went alright. My English teacher is really cool. We’re doing Hamlet, which they told me is just like the Lion King. And I think I made a friend? He’s in my science class and we sit together. He doesn’t talk a lot unless he’s answering a question.”

“What’s his name?”

“Logan. And he’s short, so I think he might have skipped a grade or something, but I didn’t want to ask him.” As he finished his sentence, Virgil flipped up his hood, putting in his headphones.

The next day at lunch, Patton dragged Virgil over to where Roman was sitting. Virgil noticed Logan sitting at the emptier end of the table, eyes moving over a book in front of him as he ate.

“The name’s Roman.” Roman said to Virgil, who responded with a half smile and a wave. Waving his hand down the table, Roman introduced everyone else. “That’s Alex, Quil, and Nessa. The one at the end who’s ignoring everyone is my brother, Logan.”

“Logan’s your brother?” Virgil asked.

Logan finally looked up when he heard Virgil’s voice. “Sadly.”

“Hey!”

“If you want some semblance of peace and quiet, I’d suggest you join the loner end of the table.” Logan continued, ignoring his brother’s shout of protest.

Virgil immediately moved across from Logan, hearing Roman grumble under his breath. Patton easily distracted him with a question, leaving Virgil and Logan to themselves.

“How are you two related?” Virgil asked as he watched Roman talk with his hands.

Logan flipped a page in his book. “We’re not. By blood, I mean. I was adopted.”

“Oh.” Virgil bit his lip, not sure what to say. “Um, that’s cool.”

“It would be if my father and brother weren’t such lunatics.”

The only thing tipping Virgil off that Logan was joking was the tiniest twitch in the corner of his mouth. Once Virgil started laughing, Logan did too.

“Oh my god, he laughs.” Roman teased from the other end of the table, earning himself a rude gesture from Logan.

That, combined with the offended gasp from Roman and a scolding from Patton, made Virgil laugh even harder. Tears started streaming down his face as he continued, unable to stop for a good minute or so.

The rest of the week became routine. Patton and Virgil ate at Roman and Logan’s table every single day. The four of them became fairly good friends by the end of the week.

Good enough friends for Roman to come in on Friday, excitement sparkling in his eyes, and say, “My dad said you guys could sleep over tonight.”

Ice spread through Virgil’s veins at the thought. He stammered out some sort of excuse before taking off, leaving his lunchbox behind.

“Was it something I said?” Roman asked as he stared at were Virgil had been.

Patton quickly got up, grabbing Virgil’s lunchbox. “He - it’s - I’ll text you later and explain, okay? I don’t want to say something he doesn’t want me to say.”

Roman simply nodded as Patton took off to go find his brother.

#platonic moxiety #platonic logince #platonic lamp #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #emile picani #anxiety #self-deprecation #food mention

[shijiujun]

[History3: MODC] Ep 1-2 Summary - SOMEONE PROTECC XI GU PLS

Alright guys! I managed to make it home in time, and watched both episodes, but I guess I’m able to do a mini summary of sorts - But my verdict on the show is while the first two episodes seem a tad bit slow in terms of plot but there ARE NO GLARING PLOTHOLES THANK GOD and i gotta say I LOVE XI GU AND HAO TING AND BO XIANG AND ZHI GANG AND THE TWINS LMAO THEY ALL SO CUTE and surprisingly I like the main girl as well Si Yu although okay it kinda sucks that she’s going after Xi Gu while still attached to Hao Ting unless she was aiming for threesome but then no communication there and FRANKLY it might even be a love rectangle between Xi Gu - Hao Ting - Nintendo Switch - Si Yu lmao 

We start off with Hao Ting and gang (the fiercer twin, Gao Qun, Bo Xiang and the other guy whose name I still don’t know but he’s a Singaporean actor) in class and the Chinese teacher reading off abysmally low scores ranging like in the 30s and below out of a 100, and guess what our lovely main lead Hao Ting scores THIRTEEN OUT OF A HUNDRED

And okay you gotta give it to Hao Ting - He’s a little shit but he’s a CHARISMATIC little shit with a glib tongue, anyway the teacher yells at him for being not serious about graduating and his friends cheer him on and are just generally obnoxious, and then Hao Ting quips that this is about freedom yeah, and of course the teacher is like fuck you dumbass & threatens Hao Ting that if he dares to leave this class he doesn’t have to come back

Don’t ever dare and threaten your dumbass jocks in class cuz they hear a dare they gonna CARRY OUT THE DARE TEACHERS HAVE YOU NOT LEARNT ANYTHING - so Hao Ting leaps over a desk and runs out much to the cheers of his friends and everyone in class who get up and run to the windows and doors to watch him go - And then one of his friends yell at him to ask him to buy fried chicken early from the canteen I think

And then cut to the next scene - The gang at the courtyard/stage thingy and Gao Qun filmed the whole thing earlier and is showing to everyone while they eat fried chicken, and then Hao Ting demands for 300 NTD each from his friends, who refuse to pay lmao although Hao Ting digs into Bo Xiang’s pocket and digs out some coins and keeps them 

Then Hao Ting’s girlfriend pings him and he runs off

Cut to the infirmary, and HT’s shirt is half off as his girlfriend Si Yu is helping him to ice his shoulder and spray muscle relaxant on his back - She’s chiding him for being so reckless earlier and asking him not to do that again because she’ll be worried, and HT obviously soaks in the attention and TLC from her, and then they proceed to MAKE OUT

Pretty good makeout scene really, although idg why the camera angle had to show like her cleavage specifically like LMAO ARE U ALLOWED TO SHOW THE CLEAVAGE OF A TECHNICALLY UNDER-18 GIRL?!!! No idea, anyway, things get really heated up, but they’re interrupted

And XI GU makes his first appearance here!!! He’s taking a nap in the infirmary and is totally disturbed by these two horny teenagers, in any case SY and HT go out, although SY’s eyes are totally on XG as they leave - She’s curious about him

Then the infirmary doctor comes in, and obviously XG is like the apple of everyone’s eyes and I GET IT BECAUSE WHEN HE SMILES IT’S DEVASTATING - So the doctor is chiding him for not eating lunch (and if you read the character intro translation I did you’ll know it’s because XG is poor and he wants to save money, like that’s driving force behind all his actions for now at least) and because of that XG is obviously thin as fuck and pale like Edward Cullen - So doc tells him to take more care of himself and rest etc. etc.

And then side character 1 and side character 2 - SY’s friends, the girl (SC1) calls herself a fujoshi and is obviously a fan of XG and you’re a bit creepy but I get you girl, and then anw SY is asking SC1 about XG after she sees that XG is first in exams again, and SY gurl don’t two-time please

HT is DYING to buy a Switch, and after dinner with his fam, he tries to secretly ask him mom for money but the mom and sis totally gives him away and the dad threatens to hit him to see if ‘he’ll be more normal’ after that LMAO - and anw dad chases HT to the room but HT wins by shutting the room door and son and dad yell at one another through the door - But despite this u can see that they’re really close

Mom and sis settled on the couch eating fruits in the chaos - a MOOD

Then next day SY catches up to XG as he’s walking to (class? to lunch? idk?) and asks him to tutor her, and XG rejects her of course cuz he likes to study alone and he hates everyone else kinda but she insists and he refuses and then because they’re doing this on the stairs she slips and OF COURSE SMOL XG catches her and upstairs, the fiercer Xia twin videos it and them in that position

Fiercer Xia twin meets the rest of the gang on the rooftop but no one has much of a reaction to his news until he pulls out the video - HAO TING EATING REGARDLESS OF THE NEWS IS LIKE A BIG MOOD REALLY - the nicer Xia twin tries to speak up for XG because they’re like classmates, and then WHOA there’s a strange like almost-kiss moment as Xia En and Xia De like confront each other over that

HT finishes eating and goes confidently, “She won’t like him”

And then he goes to the infirmary wanting to take a nap right, and when he pulls open the curtain THERE XI GU IS ASLEEP AND THIS IS WHERE WE GET THE HAO TING FALLING ON XI GU ON THE BED SCENE FROM THE TRAILERS - And HT groans, “First he ruins my plans and then now he’s taken my bed”

HT reaches for a red pen from the table on the other side of Xi Gu’s bed and of course he falls and lands on the bed, and then XI GU WAKES UP AND HORRORRRRR

Doc comes in and reprimands HT for bullying/disturbing XG basically

And then I can’t remember where the scene is exactly but XG at some point goes to work at Zhi Gang’s soy milk store?!!! I think or cafe that sells soy milk lmao, and Zhi Gang asks if he’s eaten dinner, and XI GU SO CUTELY SMILES OMGGG and lies that he has, but obviously ZG already knows that XG is lying and already bought dinner for him, and also lets XG go home early out of consideration for XG’s studying schedule since he’s also studying to graduate this sem I think?!

Oh okay then before this scene, we have THIRSTY BO XIANG AT HIS COUSIN’S GYM WIPING THE EQUIPMENT AND ALSO TAKING SECRET PHOTOS OF ZHI GANG - His cousin catches him, makes a scene and he’s ZG’s personal trainer I think and when he lifts up ZG’s shirt to ‘check’ on his progress, wow, BX DROOLS OKAY

And then at some point, Si Yu ambushes XG in class and gets him to tutor her after school because he stays behind for two out of five days, and then the twins find out, so when the time comes, the fiercer twin bullies XG out of class, and SY is left disappointed 

HT basically begins to skip school and part time, and helps his mom to give out flyers in his neighbourhood to earn some extra money, and he also somehow cheats his mom by deliberately over-counting his daily part-time rate LMAO, but the sis does the math and outs him, and dad chases after him to try to hit him again but HT ain’t scared at all and they just play cat and mouse

And then the gang corners XG during lunch, bully him and basically makes him late HALF AN HOUR for class which has NEVER HAPPENED TO PERFECT ATTENDANCE AND ACADEMIC PERFORMANCE XI GU - He’s distressed because he needs a perfect attendance record and grades to get scholarship for university - So he’s fucking distressed, and the nicer twin at the back obviously sees it and he FEELS BAD and XG didn’t eat lunch again so he’s having gastric probably

End of the class XG begs the teacher not to record his tardiness because he really needs the scholarship, but the teacher is like everyone saw you come in so damn late, how can he like not put it on record? But when XG insists - white-lipped and shaking and all - teacher asks him to tell him why - and so XG tells him (which also doesn’t help him in terms of being bullied more by the gang when they find out)

So the gang ends up sweeping the corridor lmao

XG once again goes to work and kind-hearted LOVELY OPPA ZHI GANG gives him a bread again and asks him to go home early to study CRIES WHERE IS MY DADDY LONG LEGS

and BX probably because of his punishment, is unable to go to the gym for a while, but ZG asks the cousin where BX is

End of episode 2 shows BX on his bicycle cursing his cousin out for making him go all the way out to like... find a soy milk store, and GUESS WHAT SOY MILK STORE BELONGS TO HANDSOME ZHI GANG OKAY

Oh yeah and then he sees his lovely oppa in store helping XG to straighten out his collar and then he gets jelly

and the next day he confronts XG and pushes him against the wall and THE EPISODE ENDS HERE LIKE STOP DIS BULLYING

THOUGHTS ON THE SHOW:

This is pretty damn cute so far i have to admit, and I PROMISE YOU ONE OF THESE EPISODES, XI GU IS GONNA FAINT FROM HUNGER OR ILLNESS AND THEN EVERYONE FINDS OUT HOW POOR HE IS AND HAO TING CARRIES HIM TO THE INFIRMARY AND THEN BULLY GANG REGRETS BEING SO MEAN TO HIM

And for now, it seems like Si Yu may actually be supportive when she finds out that HT has taken an interest in XG - More on that in the next trailer I think, because somehow HT will mess up and XG ends up losing his first place on the exams and walks away dejectedly as HT regrets being a fucking idiot

And also at some point Zhi Gang will see Bo Xiang having fun with another girl on the streets and be all pissed and jelly and withdraw, and then HT tells BX to please go apologise and get him back, which BX attempts to do - CRIES HANDSOME OPPA IS DEFINITELY ZHI GANG OKAY

***

For @decadentdeerpolice <3

#history3: modc #modc #make our days count #history3: make our days count #history3: 那一天 #summary #EPS 1-2 #zhi gang x bo xiang #GuTing #xi gu x gu ting

[sobdasha]

01 - just furubana things

This is not so much headcanons as it is that--much like I can't do mental math because the numbers don't remain pinned in place if they aren't literally, y'know, pinned in place with pencil on paper--I can't keep track of details and have zero concept of the passage of time without an actual timeline of events for myself.

So instead of using 20 scraps of paper I'm just dumping what I've accumulated here and calling it fic-adjacent and maybe adding in some headcanons as I go.

–

How the heck old is everybody anyway

?? - Hinata (according to my Fruits Basket timeline, she was born in March 2000, no clue how old she is now) ??? - Hibika (I have……...no clue……...I mean, since she was able to just run off to Paris at the drop of a hat, I'm assuming that means she's graduated high school??? But also she is the child of Ayame and Mine and is a Souma so like………….anything………..is possible……… I assume Hibika and Kinu are close-ish in age because they are good friends) In college - Kinu (what year though?? I'm guessing, since her plans aren't finalized, that it's still early. IDK if Michi asking her if college is fun is strictly for exposition, or implies that Kinu has just started her first year of college) 12th grade - Hajime, Michi 11th grade - Mutsuki 10th grade - Sawa, Sora, Riku 9th grade - Rio? Leo? I don't…...have my hands on volume 2 yet…….I don't know what they went with……… 8th grade - Chizuru 7th grade - Shiki (also these three are apparently all good friends and in the Go club together, I'm going to picture Akito having to have set up play-dates with Saki and Ayame when the kids were younger. I know technically Shigure could have done it since Aya is his bff but it's funnier if Akito has to) - somewhere in 9th to 7th grade are also Kou and Hajime's nameless little bro which is killing me, but idk what years ?? - Mina also ?? - Hajime's nameless and faceless little sis which is also killing me

Also! Who! Is that! With Sora in the New Year's bonus chapter of volume 1??? Is it someone we have met? Is it someone we haven't met? Is it some random person??? I don't think they particularly look like anyone listed above… (A part of me is kinda hoping…I mean, it looks kinda like Kakeru…I think it would be great if that was Kou. Michi looks like Komaki but acts like Kakeru, so if Kou acts like Michi he must look like Kakeru right??? THE POINT IS I want Kou to be at the fancy Souma New Year's because I want it to be true that Kakeru just becomes an honorary Souma attached to Yuki because it's inevitable and Akito just gives in and accepts it)

When I actually started writing down what was happening as I read…

sometime when people are bitty - the stairs incident

Day 1 of FBA - It's probably April 1st, it's the very first day of the school year and Sawa's actual first day of high school (although they've already had the entrance ceremony) - Sawa meets Mutsuki - Sawa takes her lunch outside before Amane can talk to her - Sawa meet-cutes Hajime by stepping on his face lol - Sawa doesn't get to talk to Mutuski (idk I guess he was gonna ask about her life and sneakily work around the topic about if she remembered the Souma family???) - Sawa runs over Hajime's little bro because she's so freaked out, and the little bro picks up the I.D. and gives it to Hajime, although like Hajime lives out of town and that's why he's living in the Souma house without his parents??? Because he lives too far out of town to attend that school??? So how did Sawa run over Hajime's little brother who is in middle school presumably out of town??? Did Hajime just grow up out of town and they moved back to Tokyo to inherit the dojo and Hajime was like "…….it's too far to walk to school I'm moving out" like Mutsuki did who is implied to live in town but just can't be arsed to walk that far???????

Day 2 of FBA - Sawa's second day of school - Hajime returns Sawa's I.D. on the way to school - Mutsuki appoints Sawa to the student council before she even arrives that morning - Ruriko comes in before classes start to confront Sawa about it and interrupts Amane's chance to ask Sawa out to lunch - Mutsuki is already texting Shiki - I guess the interludes might be that day??

Some time passes???

- Sawa flashes back to being introduced to the student council, and Mutsuki isn't wearing his sweater vest, so I assume this means it's a different day from Day 2, although it could be a typo

- The day that Ruriko has come to have lunch with Sawa to ~educate her~ that prompts Sawa to have the flashback, when Sawa later goes to student council we see Mutsuki in his sweater vest again so I assume this is once again a different day. That means it's been at least 4 days that Amane's been trying to ask Sawa out to lunch when Riku gets pissed about it.

The next day - Sawa is properly introduced to Riku and Sora, and then Sawa asks Amane out to lunch, yes I'm purposefully saying "asks out" every time, because I originally thought "Short black hair = Akito's child" and "I WANT TO SHIP THESE GAYS" and I want to treasure that feeling okay - Sawa punches out a cooler and meets Michi - SUKIYAKI PARTY - Sawa meets Kinu

The next day - Sawa was so happy about the sukiyaki party and her upcoming lunch date that she gets a fever and has to miss it noooo

And then after that Volume 2 jumps to early summer and I stopped keeping track

Miscellaneous stuff I wanted to keep in mind

I feel it's heavily implied that Shiki hasn't attended a family New Year's since The Knife Incident specifically. Which...really sucks for Shiki, that Akito has so strongly embraced the high road of "you can't pick your family you just have to deal, head of the family is my responsibility and I just have to deal", and even into the next generation a lot of the Souma family remains really toxic and that's the environment Shiki's growing up in. I assume Shiki's immediate household is not bad, but unfortunately it's right in the middle of a neighborhood of toxic assholes. Which is why, Mutsuki says, he wanted to get Shiki out beyond that environment and Sawa was super convenient for that among other reasons.

Hajime apparently grew up out of town, when Kyou and Tohru moved away so he could learn the dojo business from one of Kazuma's friends. This means Hajime and Mutsuki did not grow up together, which is sad, but according to Kinu they're still thick as thieves whenever they are together so that's really damn cute. The past year they've lived together is the longest visit they've ever had and like, Hajime helps out Mutsuki in the garden, Hajime--although insulting Mutsuki's lack of cooking ability--kind of implies that he does actually let Mutsuki help with the cooking when it's just them? Even when the results are probably worse than any time his little siblings tried to show Hajime they could totally help in the kitchen? Ughhhhh they're too cute.

I am presuming that both Mutsuki and Shiki live in town, and that's probably a large part of why they seem to be pretty close (closer than Shiki would like lol) despite the four-year age gap. I like to think it's also because Yuki also seemed pretty determined to Salvage Relationships, like with his mom, and so I like to presume that after the incidents of Fruits Basket Yuki informed Akito that they were going to reconnect as childhood bffs whether Akito liked it or not lol. So if Yuki and Akito are close, probably Mutsuki and Shiki are close too. And thus why Mutsuki is so concerned for Shiki's well-being and pushes really hard to set Fruits Basket Another in motion lol, like he's happy he's improving Sawa's life but his most immediate objective is Shiki's health and happiness. Like Shigure, only not an asshole and his plan is for everyone to win.

Yuki loves his son dearly and supports him so much but even so he's banned himself from Kaibara High School because he can't take Takei being so extra loooool I hope he sucks it up at least to come to graduation. Even though. Takei will--instead of talking about the graduates--okay he'll have talked a little about the graduates, namely Mutsuki--spend the entire graduation giving a speech to celebrate and congratulate and honor Yuki instead. As Yuki just sits there. Being stared at by all the other parents. With a long-dead smile on his "why is this happening to me" face. You know why this is happening, sir. But you came anyway to support your son. You are a good dad. Ganbatte. Have a drink afterward. (pray to anything you hold dear that your beloved child hasn't recorded this entire thing and sent it all the family including Akito who, surprise surprise, is also dying of secondhand embarrassment and doesn't appreciate this at all. Maybe Akito can take you drinking afterward.)

I will never be over the fact that the people closest to Yuki are all having multiple kids and there's Yuki and Machi like "ONE AND DONE." Why do they need to have another child after Mustuki? Mutsuki already has an older sibling in Michi, and possibly Hibika as well. And then Mutsuki even gets a little brother, Kou! And maybe Chizuru counts too! Like thanks for doing all the work for them of making Mutsuki not an only child. (They just…..didn't know what they'd get out of the Souma genetics grab-bag, and the idea of having to [have the housekeeper] clean up more sparkles was just…)

I'm revising my headcanon such that Hajime was the one who thought it would be cool to go to the same high school his parents did (because it's a theme, in FBA, about how it's cool to love your parents assuming they're, y'know, good parents who love you back, and thus how cute it is when kids are pleased to be like their parents), but unlike Mutsuki Hajime did not realize that as a ridiculously conventionally attractive Souma he would be a famous legacy student and if he had known this from the start he might have said "screw it" and just gone to school locally lol. Mutsuki on the other hand was fully aware of the shit he was getting into when Hajime first ventured the idea and Mutsuki embraced it. And then it all worked out perfect because it turned out Sawa would attend there too!

#sobdasha fic adjacent #fruits basket #fruits basket another #new year old fics #it was gonna be new year new fics to emulate new year new me but #i'm still trying to whittle down the stack of really old stuff soooooo

[deanlightful]

the horrors of pre-calc

Dean needs someone to tutor him in pre-calc, bad, but the only person available is Castiel Collins, and Castiel is... intimidating.

Read on AO3

“Fuck fuck fuck! ” Dean crumples his recent pre-calc test in his hand and throws it in the trash.

“That bad?” Charlie wonders, eyeing her own with distaste.

“I fucking failed .” Dean grumbles, trying and failing to keep the emotion out of his voice, “Again.”

“Yeah, I didn’t do too hot either. This class is tanking my GPA.”

“This class is bullshit.”

“I mean, it would help if we didn’t suck at math.”

Dean throws up his hands, “I’m gay, what am I supposed to do?”

“That has literally nothing to do with math.” Charlie snorts.

“Yeah, well, whatever. I’m still mad about it.”

Charlie leans against the row of lockers behind her and eyes him critically. “What you need is a tutor.”

“ You need a tutor!”

“Well, yeah,” She agrees, “That’s why I signed up for tutoring yesterday.”

“What the- without me? ”

“You were in the bathroom.”

“Ugh,” Dean slumps against the locker next to her, and is promptly shooed out of the way by the locker’s owner, “Who’d you get?”

“Jo Harvelle.”

“Is Jo good at math?”

Charlie shrugs, “Good enough to be a tutor, apparently.”

“Fuck me.” Dean sighs.

“No thanks.” Says Charlie.

Dean manages to catch Benny Lafitte at lunch, “Hey, are you still doing math tutoring?”

Benny gives him a slow up and down that makes him shift nervously. “All booked up, unfortunately. But maybe I can squeeze you in, if you… really want it.”

“Hah,” Dean swallows nervously, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, “No, uh, I mean- not that bad.”

Benny shrugs, “That’s cool. I don’t really have the time anyway, honestly. But, um, call me if you ever want to hang out, yeah?”

“Yeah- I um- okay.” Dean stammers, blushing furiously and backing away. It’s probably his own fault that Benny is so forward, after all Dean did give him a handy last year to repay him for help with algebra. But he’s trying not to say thanks with handjobs anymore.

“No way.” Dean protests, after conferring with Jo about his tutoring options, “I can’t.”

“He’s your only option,” Jo tells him, “And he’s good.”

“Then why isn’t he all booked up like everybody else?”

“Um…” Jo purses her lips, “He’s… intimidating.”

“Yeah, I know he’s intimidating, Jo, I’ve seen the guy.”

“But you need help with pre-calc, like, bad .”

“I’m aware!”

“So… get him to tutor you.”

“Um. That would mean talking to him, and that’s just not in my agenda, sorry.”

“Hey, you came to me for help. I’m helping you.”

Dean absolutely does not pout, but leans heavily against the library desk that Jo is parked at. “Can’t you ask him for me?”

“No.”

“But he scares me.”

“How much do you want to pass math?”

“Ugh, I don’t know .”

Jo raises an eyebrow, “So you’re willing to give Benny Lafitte a rub-off, but you can’t even talk to Castiel Collins?”

“Wha- how- how did you know about-”

“It’s not a secret, Dean.”

“ Oh my god.”

“Look, i’m just saying, you obviously wanted to pass math pretty bad last year. Where’s that drive now?”

Dean rubs frustratedly at his eyes, “Collins just makes me really nervous.”

“Yeah, he makes everybody nervous. Maybe you’d be less nervous if you gave him a handy.”

“God, I give one guy a handjob and I never hear the end of it!”

“Hmm, I heard it was more than one guy.”

“Shut up, Jo!” Dean shrieks.

Dean takes a deep breath, and then another. He’s been working up the nerve to talk to Castiel Collins for a week now, and only another, even more dismal test score has pushed him to finally do it. He catches Castiel after school, as the man strides through the parking lot on his long, long legs.

“Hey, Castiel!” He calls out.

Castiel stops and turns in one smooth motion, his tie flapping in the breeze like a streamer. The crisp lines of his button-down and khakis somehow manage to make him look very adult instead of.. lame. He’s wearing sturdy boots, a large black watch, and a disinterested facial expression.

“Yes?”

Dean scrambles to stop before running into Castiel, and only just succeeds.

“Uh, hi.” He struggles to catch his breath, “Um. Yeah. Okay, so. I was- uh, wondering if you could…” He trails off in the face of Castiel’s impassive gaze. His nerves are going wild, heart pounding, he can’t catch his breath.

“Are you… alright?” Castiel asks, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed with concern.

His gaze is clear and piercing.

“Uh…” Says Dean, mortification growing as he feels his hands begin to shake. “I’m sorry. I- don’t know- I don’t what’s wrong.”

“You’re hyperventilating.” Castiel says, his large hands guiding Dean to sit on the hood of a nearby car, “I need you to pace your breathing.”

His hand is on Dean’s chest, long fingers splayed out over Dean’s collarbone. “Breathe in, breathe out. There we go, keep that up. There we go.”

“Thanks.” Dean sighs as his breathing finally returns to normal. He’s humiliated and blushing furiously, but at least he has his breath.

“Are you alright, now?”

“I think so.”

“What did you need to ask me?”

“Oh,” Dean sighs, suddenly exhausted, “I, um. I was going to see if you would tutor me in pre-calc.”

Castiel looks at him seriously for a moment, “What parts are you having trouble with?”

“ All of it.”

“Alright.” Says Castiel, “I’ll tutor you, Dean.”

“You know my name?”

Castiel gives him a look, half amused, half confused, “We have four classes together, Dean.”

“Right. Yeah.”

“When would you like to start?”

“As soon as possible? I, uh, I need a lot of help.”

Dean’s house is quiet. He can hear the whir of the washing machine, the ticking of the clock over the mantel, and his own heartbeat. Castiel is considering the kitchen with the same sort of expression that one might wear when viewing a piece of art. He looks at the wallpaper, at the stove and the pictures on the refrigerator. He nods thoughtfully.

“I like your house.” He says.

Having Castiel in his house is terrifying, to say the least. He’s so put together, so smart, so adult , and here he is standing in Dean’s mediocre kitchen, looking at age-old macaroni art from when Dean was four.

“So,” Dean slumps down at the kitchen table, “Ready to find out how dumb I am?”

After a moment, Castiel sits down beside him, looking serious as always, “People learn differently, Dean, that doesn’t mean you’re stupid.”

“I guess. But i’ve had trouble with math my whole life. This is like, a last ditch effort. I just… want to warn you.”

Castiel just looks at him, which he’s done quite a bit so far. He taps the eraser of his pencil on the table, “So you have one bad subject, and you think that makes you stupid?”

“Look, I’m not really looking for a half-hearted  pep talk, okay? I just need enough help to get a passing grade.”

To his great surprise, Castiel reaches out and grasps his wrist. “I’m serious, Dean. You’re not stupid just because you’re not great at every subject. Math isn’t for everyone, and that’s okay.”

“Are you giving up before we’ve even started?”

“What? No, no. I believe you’re completely capable of mastering pre-calculus. I just want you to know that not liking math doesn’t make you stupid.”

Dean says nothing, a little stunned and not sure if he should be embarrassed or not. The following silence is long, and more than a little awkward.

After a while, Castiel clears his throat. “Let's get started.”

Math sucks. It sucks a lot. But having Castiel as a tutor makes it suck a little less.

Yes, Dean is a nervous mess. Yes, Castiel gets to see Dean struggle over math. On the upside though, Castiel smells amazing. His cologne is something like pine and peppermint, and every time Castiel turns to talk to him, Dean gets a whiff of Juicy Fruit gum.

Castiel is by far the most patient tutor Dean has ever had, he makes it easy to say when he doesn’t understand a concept, when he needs further clarification. His voice is gentle, which surprises Dean because he’s always thought of Castiel as such a stern, no-nonsense guy. Turns out, Castiel isn’t really anything like Dean thought he was. He’d had this picture of Castiel in his mind, something like a larger-than-life robot, attractive but cold. Dean has never been more wrong about someone.

“I don’t get it.” Dean sighs, frustrated, “I’m sorry, Cas. I just- I just don’t get it.”

“That’s okay.” Castiel assures him, “Would you like me to go over it again?”

“Can we stop for now? I think my brain is turning to mush.”

Castiel smiles, showing off rows of straight white teeth, dimples in his cheeks. “Sure.”

“I’m starving anyway, you want something to eat?”

“I could eat.” Castiel admits, “You want Pizza Shack?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t have any money. Or a car. I was just gonna… make spaghetti or something.”

“I’ll drive,” Says Castiel, “And I’ll pay.”

“Oh. Um. I mean, I guess.”

Dean has never seen Castiel as relaxed as he is at the Pizza Shack. He’s so… smiley. He’s laughing .

“Hey, um. This is probably going to sound weird, but i’ve never seen you smile before.”

Castiel doesn’t look offended, in fact, he nods. “I tend to be very serious at school. And I… have a hard time talking to people.”

“You seem fine talking to me.” Dean points out.

“You’re easy to talk to.”

“Thanks. So are you. You’re… really different than I thought you were.”

Castiel takes a big bite out of his slice of pizza and shrugs. “I never really feel like I can be myself at school.”

“You always dress like you’re going to a meeting.”

Castiel shrugs again. “Maybe I am.”

Dean snorts, “Yeah, alright.”

“I like to dress nice sometimes. Sometimes I don’t.”

This piques Dean’s interest. “When do you not?”

“When I’m at home. Usually when I go out.”

“What do you like to do when you’re not tutoring dummies?”

“You’ve got to stop calling yourself dumb, Dean.”

Dean ignores him, “When you’re not tutoring.”

Castiel looks at him for a moment, then drops it. “I go to a lot of shows, local bands and stuff, you know?”

For some reason, this revelation surprises Dean more than anything else. “ Really ?”

“Is it really so hard to believe that i’m not serious all the time?” Castiel asks.

“You just keep surprising me.”

“I’m going to a show this weekend. You want to come?”

Dean blinks. “Can I just do that? Don’t I need like, a ticket or something?”

“Ah, no. They’re not really those kinds of shows.”

Dean hesitates. He’s not really the kind of guy who goes to shows. He’s the kind of guy who stays home and has sleepovers with Charlie where they watch old sci-fi movies and drink too much Mountain Dew. God, Castiel is so much cooler than him.

“Okay.” His mouth says, way before his brain has had time to process everything, “Yeah I’ll- I’ll go to a show with you.”

Castiel grins. “Cool.”

When Castiel comes to pick Dean up on Friday night, his mother opens the door.

“Oh, hello dear!” Mary Winchester says gleefully, “You must be Dean’s friend. Come on in! Come on!”

Castiel grins and follows her into the house. Dean is coming down the stairs and almost trips over his own feet when he sees Castiel in casual clothes. He’s never seen the guy in anything besides button-downs and khakis, so seeing him in a band t-shirt and hip-hugging jeans is startling. He looks really really good.

“Hey, Cas! Hi. Uh. You ready?”

“I’m ready.” Castiel says, “It was good meeting you, Mrs. Winchester.”

“Good to meet you too, dear. You boys be safe tonight, okay?”

“Do you want Dean back by a certain time?” Castiel asks, politely.

Mary looks between them fondly. “Just have fun and be safe, okay? And if you come in late, try not to wake your brother.”

“What, really?” Dean asks, flabbergasted. He’s never gone out to something like this before, so he’s never had to ask his mother about curfew, but this is more lenience than he’d expected.

“Yep.” Mary leans forward and kisses him on the cheek, “Now get out of here before I get emotional about you growing up.”

“Let's go!” Says Dean.

The venue is an abandoned warehouse, which makes Dean a little nervous, but Castiel’s hand is on the small of his back. Castiel gets their cover charge and they both gets red stamps on the back of their hands, and the night begins.

The warehouse is crowded, and loud, but everyone is jumping and dancing and the music is good . Dean can’t stop smiling, and Castiel is pressed close to him by the throngs of other people. His hands on Dean’s hips are probably unnecessary, but Dean isn’t complaining. At one point, Castiel wants to get closer to the stage, so he takes Dean by the hand and tugs him along, and then he just doesn’t let go.

By the end of the night, Dean feels… well, it’s hard to tell exactly how he feels. He feels changed, he feels like he might of dreamed the whole thing.

“That was amazing !” Dean gushes on the way back to Castiel’s car, “I can’t believe i’ve never done that before, it was so cool!”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Says Castiel, who has been smiling all night.

“God, you’re so cool!”

Castiel laughs, “So are you, Dean.”

Their hands brush, and Dean, drunk on excitement, grabs Castiel’s without a second thought. Their hands part when they reach the car, but Dean can still feel the ghost of Castiel’s fingers in his. They roll down the windows and Castiel turns up the music, and they sing loudly and badly into the night. The cold wind rolling into the car makes Dean feel wild, like he could do absolutely anything.

There’s a moment, when they reach Dean’s house, right before he gets out of the car, when he’s sure that Castiel is going to kiss him. There’s electricity in the air, Castiel leans forward, but it’s only to thumb an eyelash off of Dean’s cheek, although he does look particularly reverent about it. But no, no kiss comes that night, to Dean’s disappointment. He can’t really be too disappointed though, because the night has been… such an experience.

Going to school on Monday is a little odd, because now he has Castiel’s phone number, and the memory of holding his hand and dancing with him in a crowded warehouse. Now he knows that the button-downs and ties are easily traded for band tees, and he’s not entirely sure what to do with this information.

Their tutoring continues, to Dean’s combined delight and despair. He loves the touch of their knees beneath the table, and the smell of cologne as Castiel leans close to explain a problem, but the math still gives him fits. Nevertheless, the grade on his next test is actually passing.

“I passed!” Dean shouts at Charlie, by her locker, who screams her approval.

“I passed!” He shouts at Kevin, in the library, who looks to be having a heart attack.

“I passed !” He shouts at Castiel, out in the parking lot, who beams and opens his arms to embrace Dean in an unexpected but entirely welcome hug.

“You passed!”

“ I passed !”

“I knew you could.”

“ I didn’t. I thought i’d be stuck in high school forever! Suck it, math!”

“We have to celebrate!” Castiel announces.

“We do?”

“We do!”

“Okay! What do you want to do?”

Castiel laughs, “It’s your celebration.”

“And I want you to do all the work.”

“Right, right. Because teaching you wasn’t enough work. I’m just kidding!” He insists when Dean frowns, “I actually already have something planned.”

“No you do not!” Dean laughs.

“‘Course I do.”

“What is it?”

“A surprise.” Castiel teases, eyes alight with mirth.

“Fuck you.” Says Dean.

“You’ll like it. This weekend, pack a pair of pajamas and a change of clothes. What do you say?” Castiel’s tone is confident, but his hands are in his pockets and his expression is one that almost seems to expect rejection.

Dean gasps, “Are we having a sleepover?”

If Castiel’s grin wasn’t answer enough, his next words are a confession, “It’s not too lame, is it? It’s totally middle school, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s good!” Dean assures him, “I love it! We’ll have a sleepover.”

“Alright, well. It’s gonna be good. So… get ready.”

“Oh, I’m ready.”

Dean is not ready. In no way is he ready to spend the night with his math tutor, who he finds absolutely unbearably attractive, and on whom he has a crush that could easily be described as mammoth . On top of this, he knows nothing about the rest of Castiel’s plans. Will there be other people there? Is it just going to be the two of them? What will they be doing?

These questions plague him through the rest of the week, while he’s packing and telling his mother about his plans. Mary is ecstatic that Dean is going out more and making friends, and lets him go without more than a kiss on the cheek and a promise to behave.

Castiel picks Dean up in the afternoon, and Dean realizes within minutes that they’re not headed toward Castiel’s house.

“Uh…” Says Dean, “Where’s this sleepover?”

“I think maybe you need tutoring in English too,” Castiel says with feigned thoughtfulness, “because you don’t seem to know the meaning of the word ‘surprise’.”

“Shut up.” Dean slaps half-heartedly at Castiel’s leg, “I’m just trying to make sure you’re not taking me into the woods to murder me.”

“You think I’d kill you after all the hard work I put into helping you with pre-calc?”

“You think you’re so funny , don’t you?”

“You think i’m funny.”

Dean glares. “I admit nothing.”

They drive out of the city, and Dean tries again, with no avail, to get Castiel to tell him where they’re going. Finally, after about forty-five minutes of driving through the middle of nowhere, they turn down a road that winds through the woods. Another ten minutes, another turn, and finally they’re pulling into a clearing with a small cabin in the middle of it.

Dean squints suspiciously, “Did you just drive us into a horror movie?”

Castiel laughs and opens the passenger side door, unconcerned. “My older brothers built this. It’s just a getaway spot, anyone in the family can use it. I thought we could watch scary movies, I’ll make a pizza, we can get drunk.”

Dean grins and climbs out of the car, finally convinced, “You got booze?”

“Yep.” Castiel confirms, hauling a crate full of various alcohol out of his trunk, “Courtesy of my brother Gabriel.”

The inside of the cabin in much nicer than Dean thought it would be. He’d been expecting the bare minimum, and is happily surprised. The cabin has power, a big kitchen with new appliances, a flat screen television and an enormous leather couch.

"Alright, lets get started on this pizza."

"Wait." Dean says, "You mean make make pizza?"

“Yeah.”

"Like, from scratch?"

"Totally. With whatever you want on there."

“Alright,” Dean says, falling backward onto the couch, “Lets see it.”

“Do you want to help?” Castiel asks fondly.

“I guess .” Says Dean.

And so, Castiel begins his preparation of a from scratch pizza, and Dean stands nearby being generally unhelpful. It takes less time than Dean thought it would, and soon the pizza is in the oven and Castiel is lugging his crate of booze into the living room.

“That's a lot.” Dean asks, unable to keep the awe out of his voice.

Castiel huffs, the crate thunks down next to the coffee table, “Gabriel is a big advocate of underage drinking.”

Dean leans over to peer into the depths, “So what have we got.”

“Whatever you like. We’ve got beer, wine, whisky, vodka. I, personally, am going to try out this Blue Raspberry vodka.”

“Can I get some of that?”

“Absolutely.”

They’re trashed. Way past tipsy, into spilling all your secrets and trying to make out with a desk lamp territory.

They’re in a heap on the couch, limbs tangled until neither can tell what belongs to whom. The remnants of the greedily devoured pizza lays scattered on the coffee table, along with the now half-empty bottle of Blue Raspberry vodka which was, in Dean’s opinion, a truly magnificent idea. The big flatscreen tv blasts Kurt Russell in all his eighties glory, fighting a shapeshifting alien in antarctica.

“God, I love this movie.” Dean says, head lolling lazily onto Castiel’s lap, “I love Kurt Russell.”

Castiel’s hand is carding gently through Dean’s hair, “Do you? I didn’t know that.”

“I had my first sex dream about him.”

Castiel tips back his head and laughs, a big, happy sound. “Mine was Patrick Dempsey.”

“Dempsey?”

“That hair . God, I thought he was so dreamy.”

Dean turns over so that he can look up at Castiel, who has a sort of dazed look on his face. “Do you like my hair?”

Castiel grins loosely and brushes a bit of hair back from Dean’s forehead, “Yeah, I love your hair.”

“Thanks,” Dean reaches up to run his finger along the bridge of Castiel’s nose.

Castiel is leaning closer now, breath sweet and tangy with fruity alcohol, the promise of a kiss lingering on his lips.

“Hell.” He mutters, and sits back up.

“What?” Dean asks, feeling more than a little put out, “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, nothing.”

“Cas, come on .”

Castiel leans his head back against the couch and huffs out a breath. He swallows, and again. “I, uh.” He says, “I was… kind of hoping that getting drunk would give me the courage to kiss you. But you’re also drunk, and I realize now that it makes me kind of a jerk.”

“Huh?” Dean frowns. He’d heard the word kiss and lost the train of the conversation.

“Nothing.” Castiel shakes his head, “I’ll fall asleep soon anyway.”

Dean wakes covered in sweat, with cotton mouth and a pounding headache. He rolls his head and meets with cloth and flesh, but his eyes refuse to open.

“Cas?” He croaks.

“Hmm?” Grumbles the cloth under his face.

“Are we dead?”

“Uh... I think so.”

“I have to pee.” The fabric of Castiel’s shirt gets stuck on Dean’s tongue, and he shakes his head to get loose.

“Quit licking me.”

“‘M not licking you.” Says Dean.

Castiel sighs, “If you get off of me, i’ll make you breakfast.”

“But i’m dead.”

“I’ll make you pancakes.”

Dean groans unhappily, but rolls off of Castiel, and the couch. From the floor, he groans again. He hears Castiel get up and walk unsteadily to the kitchen, but, facedown on the floor, he falls quickly back asleep.

“Dean, wake up.” Castiel’s voice comes from above him, “I made pancakes.”

This time, waking up is a little easier, despite the fact that he’s drooled all over the carpet. The sweet smell of breakfast soothes some of the fire in his skull. Dean gets to his feet slowly, through a truly impressive series of contortions and poses, more fit for an acrobat than a teenage boy, and when he’s finally up he views the entire world through a haze of distaste.

“I’m still dead.” He guesses.

“Come on.” Castiel grabs him by the arm and drags him into the kitchen, where pancakes and orange juice wait on the little kitchen table.

Dean falls upon them like he’s starving, which he is.

“Jesus christ,” He says, mouth full, “this is amazing. You’re amazing.”

Castiel sits across from him, eating his own pancakes at much more sedate pace, and watching Dean fondly.

After breakfast, they make their way to the front porch. There’s a swing and a light breeze, and birds singing cheerfully nearby. They sit together on the swing and Castiel leans back and looks at Dean.

“What?” Dean wonders, secretly very pleased to be the object of such single-minded attention.

“Dean, uh.” Castiel wets his lips and looks away, “I, uh, i’ve really liked hanging out with you. And um, getting to know you. And I just- I really like you, you know?”

Dean laughs, “Yeah, I like you too, man.” He says. He has an inkling where this is going, but he tries not to hope prematurely in case he’s wrong. He fails miserably.

“You’ve… kinda become my best friend. And I also, um,” Castiel wets his lips again, “really want to kiss you.” He takes a deep breath and talks very quickly now, “And if that’s a problem I mean whatever I get it, I’ll shut up about it and we’ll never talk about it again I swear to god but I- I just wanted you to know. I guess.”

“Okay.” Says Dean, already leaning forward eagerly.

“Huh?”

“I like you, too. You should, uh, kiss me. If you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Castiel smiles, and keeps smiling as he leans forward and meets Dean’s lips with his own. Dean smiles back, and breathes a long sigh of relief.

“This doesn’t mean you can stop teaching me math, though.” He says, pulling back for a moment.

“Obviously.” Castiel agrees.

Dean remembers for a moment his trepidation at first asking Castiel to help him with pre-calc, and wishes he could have known then what was in store. He would have worn a cooler shirt.

#deanlightful #writing #my writing #destiel #deancas #fanfic #destiel fanfic #fluff #deancas fanfic #high school au #destiel high school au #tutor au #tutor castiel #nerd castiel #nerd dean #cool castiel #secretly cool castiel #the horrors of pre-calc #freckles

[drunkenvigors]

These are kinda therapeutic for me (I’m going to skip some of them cause there’s a lot though!) sorry if you somehow know me irl and see this

1: How tall or short do you wish you were? I would love to be at least 5’6

2: What’s your dream pet? (Real or not) I already have my dream pets and I love them with my entire being

3: Do you have a favorite clothing style? No I switch between so many I never look the same lmao

4: What was your favorite video game growing up? Don’t make me answer this it’s too hard to think of, nextttt.

5: What three things/people do you think of most each day: 8:30pm (my fave time of day), mashed potatoes, and the rest of my brain goes into oblivion idk

6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say? I care too much or not at all there’s no inbetween beware I could scare u off or piss u off take ur pick

9: Are you ticklish? Everywhere on me is ticklish unfortunately but you can get a free pass to tickle me for 1min if I think you’re cute, otherwise take ya hands off the merchandise stupid bitch.

10: Are you allergic to anything? Being social

11: What’s your sexuality? I am pansexual but due to being bullied about it I tell everyone I’m Bi.

12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa? This is a choice nobody should have to make.

13: Are you a cat or dog person? I am a regular person that loves them both

14: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson? Short enough to pass as an elf so why not 🧝‍♀️

15: Do you have a favorite Youtuber? David Dobrik, hes entertainment for when I’m eating snacks

16: How tall are you? Mind ya business.. 5feet...

17: If you had to change your name, what would you change it to? Tee, that’s what I go by anyways so considered it changed

19: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits? Yes and no.

20: Do you like space or the ocean more? How about neither because they’re big cluster fucks of the unknown and that in itself is terrifying

22: Pet peeves? Letting me get attached and talking to me then leaving me hanging without any fucking explanation like um lmao you suck

23: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal [opposite of nocturnal]? I’m nocturnal for sure

24: Favorite constellation? Dis pussy

25: Favorite star? Ur moms pussy

26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls? This sounds sexual

27: Any phobias or fears? Too many dots/holes in the same area, I’ll actually vomit.

28: Do you think global warming is real? OBVIOUSLY

29: Do you believe in reincarnation? Eeeehhhh I guess. I believe in a lot of different theories that I’ve thought of myself, I don’t care what other people think about these things because I’d like to stay true to my own thoughts.

30: Favorite movie? Spirited Away

31: Do you get scared easily? Not really

32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime? Too much math brb

34: What is a color that calms you? Red yay

35: Where would you like to travel and/or live? ... don’t make me say it because I won’t

36: Where were you born? In a Jesus piece praise

37: What is your eye color? Poop

38: Introvert or extrovert? Both depending on the day

39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs? Yea & if you don’t we probably won’t get along very well

40: Hugs or kisses? I’m definitely a hugger

41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now? There’s a very kind soul I’m dying to meet

42: Who is someone you love deeply? Tiger (my cat)

43: Any piercings you want? My bridge

44: Do you like tattoos and piercings? This is hilarious if you’ve never seen me before

45: Do you smoke or have you eiver done so? No smh are u kidding me that shits for the birds ya’heard weed will kill ya ;’(

46: Talk about your crush, if you have one! Godddd fucking DAMN he is so nice to me. Better than the stupid fuck people I tried to take care of around my area. These circumstances really suck.

47: What is a sound you really hate? There’s a couple people in mind that when they talk I would love to just shove a sock down their throat

48: A sound you really love? A skateboard on the pavement

49: Can you do a backflip? Fuk off maybe I’ll try to after doing this post

50: Can you do the splits? Used to

51: Favorite actor and/or actress? Myself when I need to get out of certain situations due to excessive anxiety but not wanting to show my real emotions, you feel?

53: How are you feeling right now? Would be better if I wasn’t here rn

54: What color would you like your hair to be right now? Exactly how it is

55: When did you feel happiest? When I get attention from the person I want it from, stupid romantic bullshit that doesn’t even matter

56: Something that calms you down? Probably my sister because we can laugh anything off together and I mean ANYTHING

57: Have any mental disorders? I can’t count them all on one hand

58: What does your URL mean? It’s from a hopsin song and Bioshock infinite. Good luck figuring it out

59: What three words describe you the most? Confusing, loud, quiet, and I’ll add one more, contradiction

60: Do you believe in evolution? Well.. how do you think we’re humans rn, we came from monkeys or whatever

61: What makes you unfollow a blog? If they post stupid ads or things that’ll try to pursue you into doing something

62: What makes you follow a blog? If it fits my aesthetic

63: Favorite kind of person: funny

64: Favorite animal(s): 🐨

66: Favorite emoticon: 🖤

67: Favorite meme: disgusteng

69: What is your star sign? TAURUS BAAAABYYYY 😍

70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog? No but I can so wassup dâddÿ

71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most? I have too many to pick

72: Post a selfie or two? How about no because I’m ugly lmao tf

73: Do you have platform shoes? NO I SHOULD GET SOME TBH

74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself? I’ve pissed myself while drunk too many times to count, do as you wish with this information because I find it hilarious & I’m glad I don’t have an alcohol problem anymore lol

75: Can you do a front flip? Actually, yes, yes I can

76: Do you like birds? Don’t hate me for this but no I really don’t

77: Do you like to swim? Yessss

78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you? Ice skating

79: Something you wish didn’t exist: trump

80: Some thing you wish did exist: a green sky and a purple moon

81: Piercings you have? Lip, nose, ears, nipple (yes only one of them lmao)

82: Something you really enjoy doing: sucking my own dick for attention

83: Favorite person to talk to: myself in the mirror

84: What was your first impression of Tumblr? Idk I was so young when I made this blog I can’t recall

85: How many followers do you have? Idk does it even matter

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes? I smoke far too many cigarettes for that

87: Do your socks always match? Never

88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely? No wtf you thought I was fit? Nexxxttt

89: What are your birthstones? Emerald

90: If you were an animal, which one would you be? Koala

91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be? Lillies, sunflowers, or buttercup flowers

92: A store you hate? Aerocrombie or however you fuckin spell it

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day? 6 or 7

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds? Read minds but I would probably end up killing myself knowing all the bad things people think of me

95: Do you like to wear camo? Sometimes

96: Winter or summer? Summer

97: How long can you hold your breath for? 326183621

98: Least favorite person? Andrew lol fuck you.

99: Someone you look up to: my homies that have passed away, I look up to them every day

100: A store you love? I like to order things

101: Favorite type of shoes? VANS

102: Where do you live? Doesn’t matter smh

103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why? Nnnooo

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem? Shiet

105: Do you drink milk? Milk drinks me glug glug bitch

106: Do you like bugs? NAH

107: Do you like spiders? NEGATIVE

108: Something you get paranoid about? Crack

109: Can you draw: if I try

110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked? Mannnnn idk

111: A question you hate being asked? Anything about my dead homies makes me at least a little uncomfortable

112: Ever been bitten by a spider? No

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach? Obviously

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days? Sunny but not burning hot sunny u feel me

115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now: who told u this information

THIS IS LONG

120: Fruits or vegetables? Fruit salad perhaps

121: Something you want to do right now: Get tf out of here

122: Is the ocean or sky prettier? Sky for sure

123: Sweet or sour foods? I eat sweets to confuse the demons inhabiting this body

124: Bright or dim lights? Dimmadomedim

125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature? Bitch u really thought dragons aren’t real

126: Something you hate about Tumblr: everyone is so sensitive bro then y’all gang up and bully someone for something so small & meaningless as if you have nothing better to do with yourselves

127: Something you love about Tumblr: nobody really knows me here & if you do then hey hi wassup I trust you 🖤

128: What do you think about the least? Sheesh I have adhd next question please

129: What would you want written on your tombstone? She was a bitch but she was a lit bitch

130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now? Fuck violence

131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself? My mind

132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures? Ehhhhh on occasion

133: Computer or TV? Tv

134: Do you like roller coasters? Naaah son

135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness? No

136: Are your ears lobed or attached? Lobed thank god

137: Do you believe in karma? HAH YES, she been slacking though💀👀

138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are? 3 tbh

139: What nicknames do you have/have had? People used to call me gauges and I am so glad that stage is over

140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends? Oh, you mean schizophrenia because yes

141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink? For years, then I dipped out because I know I can’t be cured from mental instability

142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others? Bad bad baaaad yikes

143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help? Giving

144: What makes you angry? When people play with me or attention seeking people, I really hate some of y’all cry baby asses fr

145: How many languages do you speak fluently? one sadly

146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries? All of the above

147: Are you androgynous? Have you seen me because lmao

148: Favorite physical thing about yourself: I can’t even pick one because I genuinely hate myself and how I look

149: Favorite thing about your personality: my what now 💀

150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person: Jeremy McKinnon I want to tell him thank you. That’s it I guess

151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose? Um probably none

152: Do you like BuzzFeed? Oooooofff I used to years ago but shit I’m over it now

153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.] my what

154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons? NO I AM NOT THE MOM FRIEND

155: Do you like to play with others’ hair? Not unless you’re my actual partner and even then I don’t really like to

156: What embarrasses you? Being outside

157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious: speaking/existing

158: Biggest lie you have ever told: I love you

159: How many people are you following? Idk prob a lot

160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)? I’ve had this since I was 12 or something I really don’t know

161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)? IDFKKK

162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)? WHAT

[mintypothos]

@softlams please enjoy this fic! You mentioned having a bad mental health week, and I feel that on a deep level so I thought I’d try to write you something. It probably won’t do much, but I hope it makes you a bit happy to read! 

It’s laflams, because I know you’ve written it (your vampire fic was very good, also very painful) but I don’t see it around too much. It’s also probably too long. Please enjoy anyways! It’s not proofread either, sorry, I just kind of started writing to see where it got me.

Alexander's forearms were clear, devoid of any blemishes or markings. For the life of him, Alexander couldn't pin down the moment he realized that meant something.

Maybe it was the way his mother would stare at him, when she thought he wasn't looking. Or maybe it was the way she would kiss him on the cheek and call him perfect when his father caught a glance of bare arms and muttered something about Freshies. Of course, by the time he was young enough to be playing outside, he already knew to wear long sleeves or arm wraps.

The other kids at his hometown had crisp lines of varying colours- bright and beautiful. Some only had a handful, enough to easily count. Some had scores upon scores, lighting up the underside of their arms with shimmery rainbows. One kid only had six lines, and everyone kept pretending they were stupid. Alexander decided to keep his blank arms to himself.

Between the hurricane, his Dad leaving, and his Mom dying, Alexander didn't have time to think much of it. Then, Child Services shipped him up to the states because a 'family friend' Alexander had never heard about before had apparently been given his custody rights in the will.

The Child Services worker had a kind smile. Alexander didn't trust it.

“So, are you excited to see America?” the worker spoke in a light, almost baby-voice tone, even though Alexander was twelve.

Alexander shrugged. “I guess.” He fiddled with the straw of the juice box he'd been given. Apple was a good flavour, but he wanted to save it. The window of the plane still showed nothing but clouds, but Alexander kept staring out anyways.

“Well,” the worker cleared her throat. “I think it's very brave of you to go this far. You are being so good! And just think of all the things you'll be able to experience for the first time!”

If he craned his neck enough, Alexander could see the edge of the plane's wing out the back corner of the window. It was creamy white, like the cloudy background, but it was something different to look at.

It was quiet for another moment. Then, “It's okay that you're nervous, though. These things can be frightening, even for weathered souls.”

Alexander stiffened with discomfort, but didn't say anything.

--

America was weird, Alexander decided. George Washington was kind, but not patronizing like the worker. It was suspicious.

“So, you like writing?” George asked, raising a brow at the notebook Alexander was scribbling in. He wasn't even writing anything particular. Letters to a hypothetical person, because he didn't have friends but he needed to talk. Alexander didn't bother answering the obvious question.

George hummed, as if that was answer enough. Maybe it was. “What do you think about penpals? I know it's a little old fashioned, but I had great fun with it when I was young.”

Alexander stopped writing.

“You can speak and write in French, right?” It was probably in whatever notes or information George had been given before Alexander was foisted off on him. Still, Alexander nodded, unable to help a spark of curiosity. “Okay, good, because I know a boy just a couple of years older than you who wants to improve his English. He's from France.”

Alexander's eyes snapped up for the first time, meeting George's somewhat surprised face. “What's his name?”

If George was surprised at finally being addressed, he didn't show it. Instead, he smile with indulgence. “Gilbert du Motier, but he usually goes by Gil. He's very enthusiastic, I think you'll get along.”

“Enthusiastic about what?” The question slipped from Alexander's lips without him even thinking about it.

“Everything, really,” George chuckled, glancing away as if remembering something.

“Like?” Alexander demanded, stuffing his notepad back in his pocket. “Does he like writing too? And reading? What about math?!”

It took Alexander a moment to realize he was almost shouting, hands leaning on the table, something close to excitement swimming in his chest. George grinned. “Why don't you send him a letter and find out?”

“I will!” Alexander insisted. And then, he did.

The basic, cautious questions only lasted a few letters. Enthusiastic was an understatement, and Alexander loved it. Gilbert was interested in everything, excited to hear anything. In the interests of fairness, half the letters would be in French, and half in English. Alexander liked alternating the paragraphs, especially since George didn't know French at all and it was like a secret message.

Not that George snooped on the letters in the first place, but Alexander liked the feeling.

Alexander, it's simply ridiculous, what people keep saying. As if we weren't all New Souls once upon a time!

The rant was unexpected, even after a whole year of letters sent back and forth. Alexander had never told Gilbert about that.

I hate it. My cousin Adrienne is a New Soul, and everyone just calls her freshie and treats her like she doesn't know anything. Do they all remember things from their past lives that I can't? I have 192 marks, which is the most of anyone I know, and I don't feel any wiser. Adri is a lot smarter than me.

Hesitantly, because Alexander had never admitted it voluntarily, he answered.

I don't have any marks either and I'm at the top of my class. My birth dad used to say it was about common sense, because people who've lived more lives have better instincts.

Yeah, well, your birth dad is stupid. Science says everyone's brains are new brains, and that's where all the thinking and common sense and instincts happen. If your soul gets wiser with reincarnations, maybe you can only tell once you hit the afterlife.

It wasn't anything Alexander hadn't reasoned already. However, hearing the same thing from his best friend sent a warm feeling from the depths of his stomach, all the way up through his chest and out the unwitting smile he couldn't hope to get rid of.

--

Eventually, Alexander did make other friends. It was hard, since he really only had two social settings: the silent kid who barely acknowledged the rest of the class, or the argumentative kid who talked a mile a minute.

Hercules was the one friend that understood both. He had no problem encouraging Alexander's louder moods, and was equally happy to chat aimlessly while Alexander took a quiet moment. He was also taller and wider than Alexander, and none of the bullies ever bothered approaching when Herc was around.

“Hey, I think it's cool you keep your arms wrapped,” Hercules said one day during recess, after trading Alexander his fruit cup for a cheese string. “Everyone always wants to compare, it's so annoying.”

Alexander shrugged. “It doesn't mean anything. Maybe once they figure out why we get marks in the first place, then I'll care.”

“Yeah, that's fair. It sucks sometimes, though. I only have thirteen. But maybe it's not that I'm newer, just that it took longer to reincarnate. What do you think?” Hercules flipped his hands palm up. His weren't straight lines, like the kids back home. They were squiggly lines, mostly in cool tones of blue and purple. Some were a tight spring of squiggles, others a gentle wave.

“I think it shouldn't matter if you're new or not.” Alexander picked at the grass. The spring air was nice after such a crappy, cold winter.

Herc's glance was shocked as his shoulders flinched back. “You think so? My Grandma says that all the new souls lately are why the world is going to crap. Well, she used words my mom won't let me say, anways.”

The words were icy cold, even though Herc didn't know any better. He was just repeated something he'd heard. But it was wrong. Alexander stood up abruptly, spilling the remainder of his lunch on the grass. “Your grandma's wrong!” It came out far louder and far harsher than Alexander meant.

“What?” Hercules frowned, something strange in his expression. “How do you know?” His brows creased, volume raising a bit in turn.

“She probably only says that because she has a bunch of marks and it makes her feel better! It's not my fault I don't have any!”

Alexander knew the other kids liked to make fun of him by saying he didn't show his arms because he had no marks. He was pretty sure that was what Hercules thought too, thought he'd never asked. But it was different, saying it out loud. Herc went from looking angry, to looking shocked. His mouth opened, looking for words to say.

Alexander could only run away.

--

Alexander avoided Hercules, and Hercules let him. Maybe that was why it took only two days for Samuel Seabury to shove him in the back. Alexander fell like a particularly unprepared sack of potatoes.

“That's for calling me an idiot!” Samuel was scowling, hands crossed.

Alexander glared, scrambling to his feet. “I never said that!” Not that Samuel didn't deserve it- always going on and on about how great he was because his Dad ran a University.

“Yes, you did! The teacher gave you detention for it!”

Right, Alexander remembered. Instead of acknowledging it, Alexander rolled his eyes. “I got detention for saying my dog's smarter than you. Look, his memory's better than yours, too!”

Samuel's cheeks turned red, mouth scowling so hard it looked painful. “Yeah, well at least I'm not a Freshie! Everyone heard- you've got no marks!”

For maybe the first time, the insult didn't hurt Alexander. It made him mad. “That's it,” Alexander hissed, reaching for his arm wraps. With a few sharp tugs, they were loose, and Alexander threw the pointless strips of cloth to the ground. Samuel flinched back at the sight of plain, unblemished arms. “So what if I'm blank? I can still kick your ass!”

Samual never saw the fist coming, nor the subsequent body tackle. He did, however, anticipate the rest; and surprise attack or not, Samuel had a few inches on Alexander, and he was on the Rugby team. They grappled, screaming and yelling.

Neither of them were even using words. Alexander felt a hand wrench painfully on his hair. He tasted the salt and sweat of Samuel's upper arm as he bit down fiercely. His shoulder thumped painfully into the dirt as Samuel rolled them over and kicked Alexander in the stomach.

Alexander gasped, losing both the air in his lungs and the grip on Samuel's arms. Newly freed, they slapped wildly, uncoordinated but still painful. Samuel was practically screeching, Alexander spared a split second to wonder why they hadn't been stopped, throwing his arms up to protect himself.

A shape hurled into Samuel's side. For a brief moment, Alexander was certain that was the teacher, and he was about to get detention again, probably suspended, definitely a call-home to a disappointed George.

But, “it” wasn't adult shaped. “It” was shouting very much like another child. Alexander blinked. John Laurens, the freckled, bushy haired kid that everyone talked about because he should be in their year, but had to repeat 6th grade. Alexander had still been in Nevis in 6th grade, so he'd never so much as said a word to the other kid. There hadn't been much point.

Now, John- the kid Alexander had never looked at twice- was growing and clawing and smacking like a vengeful playground guardian. Alexander felt something light and fluttery flip inside his gut. He ignored it and joined in with his protector.

Of course they got caught. Alexander pulled off physically with a hand on his arm. John as well, hanging limply just to make it harder for the yard supervisor and bleeding from the nose. Alexander wiped at his own face- no blood, but some very sore flesh around his cheek. It would definitely bruise by the time George came to pick him up.

“This is very disappointing, the two of you ganging up  on poor Sam like that.” The supervisor huffed self importantly, dragging them to the office and plopping them down. “Just wait till the Principal gets here, your parents will be so disappointed.” The door sharply closed behind them. Alexander glanced about cautiously. The secretary in the reception desk at the far end of the room glared in pointed warning at them, but turned back to her work. The rest of the office was empty.

Alexander turned again, only to see John staring openly in excited fascination. “Hah, jokes on them, right?” He shot Alexander a toothy grin. “As if my foster parents give a shit what I'm up to.”

His eyes sparked rebellion. Alexander felt his tongue tying itself up. John didn't comment, instead, throwing out a hand. “John Laurens.”

“I know,” Alexander said, shaking the offered limb rather mechanically. “Uh, I mean, Alexander Hamilton.”

John's lips pressed together, but he was still smiling. Smirking, even. “I know. You're the new kid. If I'd known you were a newer soul too, I'd have talked to you ages ago.”

Alexander caught himself from flinching. Unbidden, his gaze dropped down. John's arm was completely blank. But then, he shifted, moving his other forearm into view. It wasn't blank, adorned with two blobby marks. They would have just looked like a strange birthmark, if not for their silvery sheen.

Alexander had never met someone with as few marks as that. From the exceedingly pleased look on John's face, the same held true for him. “Do you like video games? We should hang out, sometime.”

The resulting smile lit up John's entire face, bright like the sun. Alexander felt some foreign, bubbly emotion lighten his heart, nearly making him cave in from how sudden it was. He smiled back.

They didn't get to play video games, because Alexander was grounded for two weeks after George had to pick him up for a two days suspension. It didn't matter- after that, they were inseperable.

--

“I'm sorry,” Hercules tracked him down a week later, head pointed down at his shoes. “I shouldn't have said that. You're right, and I don't think I believe my Grandma anymore.”

“Um,” Alexander said, head whipping to John and back to Herc. He'd told John, of course, who'd been of the opinion that Hercules deserved to get punched. John didn't react though, continuing to eat his lunch like neither Hercules nor Alexander were there anymore.

Hercules scuffed a shoe. “You don't need to forgive me, I just feel really bad. I'm sorry for hurting you. Can we be friends again?”

John was looking away, pretending to be fascinated by the cloudy sky. His feet tapped against the soft earth. Alexander considered telling Hercules to go away, he had John now. But Herc was sorry, actually sorry, and new best friend or not, Alexander missed him.

Still, Alexander waited one long moment. Then, “Well, I didn't tell you.”

“It was still dumb of me!” Herc insisted, waving his hands. “I won't ever say anything like that again.”

“Okay,” Alexander smiled slowly as warm feelings replaces the tight stress of just moments ago. “I forgive you.”

“I'm- wait, really?!” Hercules glanced at John. “Can I eat here?”

Immediately dropping the pretense, John dropped his gaze from the sky and patted the ground next to him. “If you're Alex's friend, then you're my friend, too. Come sit!”

“Oh, you're okay with 'Alex', now?” Herc sat down almost too quick, immediately shifting into a comfortable position and sliding his lunchbox onto his lap. Alexander quickly remembered that, unlike John, Herc had been there on the first day of class when Alexander put up a huge fuss about anyone shortening his name.

Alexander couldn't stop the blush, but he could argue that this was a totally different situation, so he did.

--

 > So, should I be jealous of this Laurens character?

Alexander choked on his glass of lemonade. For a moment, he regretted giving Gilbert the contact information for his favourite chat client. He didn't really, though. At this point, they knew each other too well so stick to paper mail- cute and fun, but so, so long between messages.

< what's there to be jealous of?

Alexander swallowed. Nothing could have given him away, right?

> your crush on john obviously. How am I going to ever get to talk to you while you're consumed with the innocent notes of young puppy love?

Alexander rubbed his cheeks rather than let them burn. He was lucky there was no one else in the room.

< oh shut up you're like two years older than me

> two years and many, many experiences little lion.

> besides, you didn't deny it

His phone could probably handle being thrown across the room. Alexander considered the notion more seriously than perhaps wise. Instead, he pushed the phone away from him, under the covers.

--

When Alexander was 16, John still hadn't made any indication of returning any feelings. Alexander thought he was being more than obvious. So instead, he asked Eliza Schuyler out, because she was cute and funny and obviously liked him back.

John acted strange, when Alexander mentioned it.

“Are you okay?” Alexander was forced to ask, when John scuffed his shoe particularly loudly.

“Yeah, fine, fine,” John waved a hand, either in irritation or agitation or something else entirely. “That's really great! I'm happy for you!”

It almost sounded like John was jealous. That didn't make any sense though, he was never jealous when Alexander made a new friend, and he'd gotten a lot better at it now that they were in high school. Mostly with Aaron and Maria and Theodosia. There was no way John liked him either, Alexander would know.

“John's jealous because he likes you,” Herc said bluntly, as soon as John made an extremely awkward exit.

Alexander jumped about a foot in the air. Hurriedly, he reached for the back of the neck as if he'd simply been bitten by some bug. “There's no way John likes me like that. We're friends.” As much as Alex sometimes wished otherwise.

“Well,” Herc rolled his eyes, gesturing to himself, “we are friends. Me and John are friends too. But you and John are definitely something else. You're practically attached at the hip, and you both keep making gooey eyes.”

“Wh- no I don't- wait, John does!?” Alexander shifted his feet. There was no way.

“Yeah.” Herc looked at Alexander like he'd asked what two plus two equaled. “How did you not know? I thought you just liked Eliza more. Or that French guy.”

Alexander shifted. “Gil? No way. We're internet friends.” The idea embarrassed him for some reason. Gilbert was too old anyways. And in France.

Herc let out a long sigh, clapping Alexander on the back so hard he nearly toppled over, still not used to his frankly impressive growth spurt. Or maybe he was making a point. “You know what, I'll leave you to it. Frankly. I hope my potential romances aren't nearly this complicated.” He strode off, adjusting his beanie.

Alexander couldn't help but agree.

--

It was only a few months later when Eliza was the one to break it off.

“You're great, you know that? And I like you. But you don't like me back.” Eliza wiped a stray tear, visibly trying not to sniffle.

“That's not true!” Alexander wasn't lying. He did like Eliza. She was the kindest person he met, but just as willing to work for the things she wanted. She was funny and loved making awful puns. Alexander had enjoyed every outing with her.

Eliza turned her head away. “Maybe, but you obviously like John more. And that's fine! But I can't handle you always looking for him instead. I'm not- I can't share, I'm sorry.”

Alexander struggled for something to say. Over the years, he'd turned an honest reputation for being the loudest, most opinionated person at school. People still knew he was New Soul, but Alexander could debate circles around any of them so it didn't matter. He'd forced them all to look past that.

He wished he could force Eliza to look past this, but nothing came up. “I'm sorry.”

“Look, it's not my business anymore. Just don't talk to me for a while.” She scrubbed her eyes again and stood up. Alexander watched her go.

--

It wasn't all worked out, after that- not by a long shot. Everyone except for Herc and John seemed to blame Alexander a bit, for crushing the heart of the most well liked girl in their grade. Eliza's little sister Peggy, a small slip of a girl in grade 9, kicked him in the shins. Angelica, oldest Schuyler sister and all-around genius destined for Ivy League, sent him death glares for a solid week.

But, piece by piece, it got better. Alexander texted Gil for advice, ignoring the weird idea Herc had brought up.

> I guess there was something to fear then lol!

Alexander struggled to figure out what he was talking about for a moment, before realizing.

< oh come on, even if John actually wants to date me it's not like we won't stop being friends. I've been talking to you longer than anyone else

Gilbert took an extra long time to respond. Enough that Alexander worried, for a moment. Then finally,

> damn straight

> or damn gay rather

> damn bi

> point is go confess already

Alexander laughed.

< if I go get rejected you have to watch some terrible comfort movies with me. Thru a stream so there's no escape.

> if you get rejected I'll fly over to DC to comfort u personally. Im loaded I can totally do it

< no you cant shut up

Gilbert was 18, sure, but he was still in his final year of Lycée, French highschool. The words did their job though, Alexander felt much better.

He confessed to John. Rather than a simple yes or no, John first stared blankly. Then burst into tears. Then pulled Alexander in for a kiss, before wildly apologizing for overstepping.

Alexander stilled. Slowly, he reached a hand to his lips, considering the situation. A giggle bubbled up, then another. John joined in, and the next thing Alexander knew they'd burst into manic laughter, cackling and holding each other for support.

John slipped a tentative hand into Alexander's. It was the left arm- the one with the two marks. Alexander thought his blank arm matched John's nicely.

--

They turned seventeen, still going strong. Alexander tried desperately to skip a year and go into University early. He wanted to advance, needed to, even. Despite the necessary separation should they succeed, John was with him every step of the way. He was also with Alexander when the rejections came.

George- Dad, by now- was there too, to both rail at the school and to assure Alexander that it wasn't the end of the world.

“They let Aaron Burr do it last year,” Alexander reminded again, probably once more than was necessary.

“I know,” His Dad rested a hand on his shoulder. “But think of it this way, that's an extra, what, full year? You can round out your volunteer experience before your workload really picks up, and plus, you  can spend more time with John.”

“Yeah,” Alexander smiled, considering the idea. “I guess.” Still, in the back his mind, he wondered if it wasn't because his old nemesis Samuel's Dad was still the school's president. But that would be reaching.

--

> Hey, I have something to confess.

Alexander's heart clenched. He had no idea what this was about. But Gilbert was his oldest friend, so he pushed forward anyways.

< yeah, what's up?

Gilbert didn't answer, for a while. Alexander typed out another query.

< Gil? You okay?

Another long pause. Alexander had to physically stop himself from adding a third message.

> I don't think I want to be called Gilbert anymore.

Alexander felt almost physically thrown off balance. For a moment, Alexander considered the statement, searching his memory for anything he'd missed. Suddenly, he remembered the fact that Gi- his friend, had specifically referred to himself as “dude” and “person” for a while now, when “guy” would usually be used.

< what would you like to be called?

A long pause again.

> I think I like Lafayette.

> our family name used to be Lafayette, when we were French nobility. It sounded nice to me.

It sounded nice to Alexander, too. Maybe it was because Lafayette (Alexander corrected his brain), liked it.

> also, can you use they/them for me now?

Alexander couldn't type his response out faster.

< of course! If you want to talk about it at all, I'm always ears

> always fingers, you mean

< no that sounds super dirty

> (;

A by now more familiar bubbling feeling pulsed in Alexander's core, unasked. They trusted him enough to come out to him. He was touched- and maybe, with a slight crush. Lafayette was two years older and an adult, plus Alexander had John. Quietly, he shoved the feelings away.

--

John was both ice and fire. It was stupid and poetic, but it was true. Alexander could go on about his thoughts on the matter, of the art that was his very being, flaws and all. Secretly, he'd never really thought it would work for so long. Keeping John was like keeping  Hummingbird- you couldn't cage him, you just had to hope you were good enough to stick around.

Perhaps he'd been underestimating John, or overestimating himself, because they stayed together all through senior year and all the various friend group breakups. Aaron dated Theodosia for longer than Alexander and John had even been together, and broken up so peacefully that Alexander hadn't noticed for a month- it didn't help that Aaron was off to school a year early, and Princeton at that. Maria and Eliza were together still of course, a match better than Alexander had ever been, while Herc had briefly dated some guy from another school named James Madison.

They did fight, of course. Both of them were the fighting type. But it was always small, never too hard to overcome. Alexander loved his boyfriend, and so did his Mom and Dad. It was perfect.

Even so, Alexander could not hold back a flash of deep fear when he got accepted to King's college, and John didn't.

“Hey, don't worry about it,” John was grinning, swinging back and forth on the old tire swing at their house. “You'll call often, right?”

“How are you so calm about this!?” Alexander scratched at his head, inadvertently pulling strands of hair from his hair tie.

John scooted up the tire, until his knees were in the seat and his arms crossed overtop the tire, around the rope. The hold resulted in the swing tilting back far too much due to imbalance, but John held on anyways like he couldn't even tell, years of gymnastic lessons paying off.

“I trust you,” John said simply. “And besides, it's not that far. I'm definitely visiting, like all the time.”

“Really? And you're not mad that I'm going to school without you?”

John laughed. “Yeah, I think I came to terms with that reality long ago.” It was easy for John to smile, but Alexander frowned, uncomfortable with the reminder that John had struggled so much academically. John had, of course, always maintained that there was no way he'd be able to focus if Alexander was the one trying to tutor him, so of course Alexander had backed off.

“Besides, I never wanted to keep going to school like you do.”

“Wait,” Alexander made a double take, “You're going straight to work?”

“Oh, no, I wish.” John stuck his tongue out. “ my grades are good enough for community college. I just don't think I'm going for any four year programs, you know? You enjoy yourself, learning things, changing the world. I'm just going to find something I don't hate doing.”

The words startled a laugh out of Alexander. Impulsively, he leaned down to kiss John, softly on the lips. John hummed, and deepened it. Alexander parted his lips slightly, eagerly- and was met by empty air. The bottom of the tire swung into Alexander's hips as John lost his grip and fell gracelessly into the dirt. Alexander fell not a second later, not expecting the sudden tire assault.

They stared at each other for a moment. Then, John started cackling. Alexander joined him.

--

Alexander went to school for a degree Economics, with plans to set up a minor in Political Science, if he could manage it. John went to school for a diploma in Child and Youth work.

“Only because they didn't have underwater basket weaving,” John insisted for the third time, determined to use the joke as much as possible. “My dreams are still crushed. Besides, I've lived through it, so I'm basically half qualified already. It'll be a breeze.”

John sounded flippant, but his eyes were soft, his lips quirked in what should have been a careless smirk, but looked more like a thoughtful smile.

“Don't pretend you don't care,” Alexander admonished lightly.

“You can't make me.” John stuck his tongue out. Alexander considered the challenge, then considered the scholarship applications on his laptop. He closed the laptop lid and lunged.

After a fruitful struggle of kisses and tickles and mock wrestling, John relented. “Fine, I care. You're a huge dork.”

“I'm your dork,” Alexander agreed.

--

“John, John,” Alexander whispered, tugging on his boyfriend's sleeve. “John. JohnJohnJohn.”

John snorted. “What?” His eyes danced, he knew exactly what was wrong.

“I feel like I'm going to throw up,” Alexander admitted. The airport was a pleasant, perfect temperature, the air surprisingly clean tasting, for an airport.

John turned his head back and forth. “Well, there's a trashcan over there. Do you think you'll need it?”

Alexander glanced at it, considering that he actually might need it. But he shook his head instead. “No, just don't stop holding me, okay?” Their hands were already clasped tight, probably causing John some discomfort.

“Always,” John said, giving Alexander's hand another squeeze. Alexander grinned as best as he could through his nerves. The baggage notice for the flight they were waiting for was lit, they just had to wait for the passengers to filter through.

Alexander was twenty years old and he shouldn't be this nervous. John wasn't judging him though, and neither could anyone else.

How often did one meet their oldest friend, someone they'd been talking to since they were twelve, for the first time ever?

A head, several inches taller than most of the crowd, covered in bouncy, tied back curls and matched with a face Alexander had only seen through pictures, pushed through the open doors. They started scanning the crowd immediately.

Alexander wasn't about to wait for that. “Lafayette!” He waved his arm wildly, nerves suddenly replaced by pure elation. How could he be nervous? This was Lafayette.

“Alexander!” They shouted back, voice familiar only through phone calls. It sounded even better in person. They ran, long legs carrying them almost dangerously fast, and suddenly Alexander found himself swinging circles in the air, arms holding him tight. “Little Lion! We meet at last!”

Alexander laughed, not because it was funny, but because he was feeling too many emotions. “Laf, oh my god, how are you so tall?!”

“How are you so little! I never thought my pet name would be so appropriate!” Lafayette laughed too, high pitched and gleeful. “It's so good to meet you!”

With a soft “oof,” Alexander felt himself set back on solid ground. “You don't get to steal my lines!” He admonished, unable to even attempt hiding a wide grin. Lafayette looked great in person, practically bursting with earnest energy, though that could also be due to them being consumed by the same nerves Alexander had. “Oh! Meet John!” Without even thinking, he tugged Lafayette's hand toward his boyfriend, who was standing to the side with a dazed, almost gaping look to his face.

“John Laurens,” John offered quickly, throwing a hand out.

Lafayette took it gently, giving it a light shake and, if possible, brightening even more. “Lafayette du Motier. A pleasure to meet you.”  They gave their best charming smile. Alexander would have been fooled, if he hadn't been there when Lafayette was desperately trying to perfect it and demanding pointers.

“Don't fall for it John, they're being a nerd.” Alexander shook his head in mock shame. “Their smooth moves are all a lie.”

Lafayette scrunched their nose, before tilting their head up with a very fake scoff. “You only wish. There is no lie, just good presentation.”

“Oh, same thing. You're still a nerd.” Alexander shoved Lafayette with one arm, the motion feeling natural. Lafayette took it gracefully, following the movement with their eyes, but failing to avoid it.

“Well, I will not deny that,” Lafayette conceded, bringing a finger to their chin in thought. “Can I not be both?” They shot Alexander another smile, only smaller and softer. Alexander wondered if the video calls from all these years really had lost something in the digital transfer. Their face had never lit up so beautifully over the computer screen, had it?

“Lies, all of it,” Alexander said instead. Lafayette laughed, the sound going straight to his heart.

--

“So... they were something.” John said afterwords, after they'd all hung out and shown them around town and found their exchange student housing, still with something of a shell shocked expression.

Alexander snorted. “Laf's something all right. But don't let them fool you, remember the frog.”

That did the trick. John snorted so loudly it sounded painful. “Oh, God,” He chuckled. And then froze in the middle of his walk. Alexander turned back at the absence of John's body by his side.

“Wait, so if you told me about the frog incident...” John frowned. “ Did you tell them about the turtle incident?”

Alexander barely considered the question, shrugging. “Of course. I tell them everything. Just like I tell you everything.”

Alexander frowned when that failed to get John moving again. “Oh, my God,” he moaned.

“What? Was it bad that I told them? Did you ask me not to share and I forgot? I'm sorry.” Alexander flipped his hands nervously, combing for any such memory. He couldn't remember if John had ever said it was not okay, but he couldn't remember an explicit go ahead, either.

“No, no!” John stepped forward, leaning his shoulder into Alexander's. Immediately, he calmed at the simple contact. “I just, it feels embarrassing now that I've met them.”

“Really?” Alexander asked, confused.

“Well,” John said with a soft hum, looking away. Alexander saw a hint of red by his lower jaw, half covered by a loose coil of hair. “They were very pretty.”

Alexander pictured Lafayette, preciously vivid in his memory. From the striped, high waisted skirt to the soft knitted sweater to the charming, knee high dress boots. “Yeah,” Alexander agreed, “They really are.”

The thought of John finding his other best friend attractive probably should have made Alexander at least a little uncomfortable. Instead, it felt right. His old crush stirred back up, rearing its head after years of pointed neglect.

With John looking like he'd just seen stars for the first time, Alexander didn't feel as bad about it as he used to. Still, he tucked it away.

--

The glamour faded after the first week. It was always going to happen. The way Lafayette slotted so easily into both their lives, however, was less predictable. Alexander was constantly surprised by just how easy it was.

Then, the subject of marks came up.

“Holy shit,” John stared blankly at Lafayette's forearms, exposed for the first time on an overwarm fall afternoon, in the privacy of Alexander's rented room. They were absolutely layered in geometric shapes, sparkling golds and bronzes and yellows that folded over each other, leaving no hint of their natural skin underneath.

Lafayette glanced away, moving their arms down and the marks out of view. “I don't like making a big deal about it.”

“You're covered in them, though. How many?”

Lafayette shifted, frowning. Alexander frowned too. John knew it wasn't nice to go and ask, just because they were both so open about their counts.

“A hundred and ninety two.”

John whistled. “I've never seen a number so high.” There was something not entirely kind in his voice. “So, do you feel any wiser than us mortal folk?”

Lafayette flinched. “John!” Alexander shouted, ice tightening his spine with a death grip. A lance of immediate stress pierced his gut. “What the fuck, don't say that!”

John stood up, eyes flaring above frustrated, tight lips. “You never told me they were a fucking Golden Age Soul!”

Alexander stood up too, angry but with a tangled ball of pure hurt tightening around his heart. “I didn't think it mattered! Since when do we care about mark count!?”

“Since always! They're the one who has the luxury of pretending not to care, and then turning around and treating us like children!”

Negative emotions swirled and mixed together, and Alexander wasn't sure what he was feeling anymore, except upset. “Laf's not like that! You know that!”

John clenched his teeth with a sharp snap. “No I don't.”

“Then trust me now! Laf hasn't done anything wrong!”

John's eyes sparked as he opened his mouth, almost certainly not to apologize. Alexander didn't get to hear it however, as Lafayette threw a hand up in the air.

“Please. I don't want to be the cause of your fight.” Lafayette scrambled to their feet, grabbing their backpack and shoving the work they had been doing away haphazardly.

“No, Laf, don't go, John's the one being-”

“It's okay,” Lafayette cut him off. “You guys can talk it out. I'll see you later.” And before Alexander could really protest, they were out the door.

“You scared them off,” Alexander said calmly, too cold now to shout.

“Whatever,” John scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Alexander bit his lip. “I really don't want to see you right now. Can you go home?”

“Seriously!?”

“Yeah. Please leave me alone.” Alexander was being extremely short. He didn't care.

John left silently, the only sound being the front door slamming louder than strictly necessary. Alexander curled up in his bed, homework forgotten.

He didn't sleep well.

--

Alexander didn't do anything like the silent treatment, but he did hang out less with John, and the times they were together were tense and filled with tip-toeing words. Alexander spent more time with Lafayette.

“I feel where he's coming from,” Lafayette admitted, after they had spent hours visibly struggling not to bring the topic up. Alexander hadn't said anything about John today, but immediately he knew who Lafayette was talking about. “I don't think I'd be comfortable meeting another Golden age soul either.

Alexander huffed. “Who cares if you've lived more than a hundred and fifty lives. You've been my friend for years, that should be enough for him not to throw you under the bus the second he realizes.”

“You may have known me for years, but he's only heard about me. It's hard to build trust second hand like that. He means well.”

“No he doesn't. He just heard something about you, something we've spent years trying to prove is irrelevant, and used it as an excuse to be nasty.”

Lafayette shrugged, falling onto the bed, beside Alexander. “Your John is not necessarily completely wrong, though. It's true that you and Adri helped me learn a lot about people with New souls, or nearly new. But at the end of the day, people are still going to look at me and think they're seeing some paragon of wisdom and worldly knowledge.”

Alexander didn't like the words, but they weren't wrong. Silver aged souls, those with over a hundred marks, were considered valuable, very useful people. Something of a living heritage, and something of a natural talent. Golden aged souls, with more than a hundred and fifty marks, were that, dialed up to the extreme.

“He still didn't need to be such a jerk about it.”

“Maybe not. But you can see why he felt betrayed.”

“Maybe,” Alexander repeated.

Lafayette sighed, sitting up again. “Little lion, you should show me more of your strange foreign foods. Like the ridiculous amount of sugar-based breakfast cereals.”

Alexander accepted the topic change thankfully, turning his head to more pleasant thoughts.

--

Several more weeks of stress went by. Then finally, John cornered Alexander one day, despite looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

“Look, Alex. I was being shitty. You're right. I just- why didn't you ever say anything?”

Alexander wasn't expecting the question. For a moment, he considered shooting back angrily, something like 'because I knew you'd react like this'. But it wasn't true, and Alexander was tired of being on nervous eggshells around his boyfriend.

“I'm not sure. It just never came up.” That didn't sound right either. Alexander felt strange the more he thought about it.

“It never came up. In all the debates and arguments we've made against the whole soul marking business.” John said in a dry, disbelieving voice.

“Yeah, true. I guess I just buried it. Maybe I was embarrassed?” Alexander thought some more. “We always said things like 'new souls have to stick together', and such. Maybe I just didn't want to feel like a hypocrite. But Lafayette really is my friend. It doesn't matter how many marks they have.”

“Oh,” John wiped his eyes. “I'm an asshole, aren't I?”

“Yes,” Alexander said immediately. “To Laf, anyway. But I should have told you forever ago.”

John coughed, wiping his face again. “True. I'm sorry for being a dick.”

“You really should apologize to Lafayette instead,” Alexander cautioned, because he couldn't really accept an apology that wasn't actually for him, “But thanks.”

They sat awkwardly for a minute, just staring. John finished covertly removing the tears from his face. Finally, Alexander couldn't stand it anymore. “Can I hug you, now?”

John answered by practically leaping from his chair to Alexander's seat on the bed. For the first time in weeks, Alexander's arms were full of John, his nose scrunched into long, curly hair as hands threaded their way through Alexander's own straighter brown locks. Legs straddled his lap as their torsos pressed together.

Alexander had missed feeling John's heartbeat. His whole body relaxed into the hold, arms slipping easily around John's sides and pulling them even closer together.

“I promise I'll apologize tomorrow,” John said into Alexander's ear, chin resting on his shoulder. “But for tonight, can we just sit here like this? I missed you.”

That sounded like a perfect plan to him.

--

John was true to his word. Lafayette responded with a full body hug. For the first time in weeks, Alexander felt the last of the tension drain from his chest. Giddy with relief, he suggested they all go out and get drunk.

They couldn't decide where to go, so instead they went to the liquor store and bought supplies to Alexander's house.

His flatmate, an annoying man by the name of Thomas Jefferson, gave them some snacks from his supply but stole a cooler in return.

“Asshole,” Alexander muttered when Thomas was gone. “How does someone have this many kinds of chip flavours at once. There's not that much floor space in our rooms.”

“Shh, he's doing us a favour,” Lafayette admonished, smiling. “I think he's very pleasant when he wants to be.

“That's the thing,” John said, projecting from across the room where he was working off the cork on a bottle of wine that claimed to be from somewhere around Lafayette's hometown. Lafayette had also claimed they would be able to tell for sure. Naturally, they had to get it. “He never wants to be.”

Alexander barked out a sharp laugh. “Except!” John added, holding a finger up, “around Madison.”

“ohhh shit, you're right.” Alexander nodded. “He is way, way more tolerable around Madison. A lot goopier, though.”

John stepped over to split the bottle between the three of them. In true college life fashion, they used beer cups. Lafayette pouted. “It really does taste completely different in a proper glass.”

“Not a chance,” John quipped. Alexander couldn't help another warm, fuzzy feeling, the two probably most important people in his life interacting, happy. “It's just a cup. It can't possibly change the taste, that's a chemical thing, isn't it?”

Lafayette scoffed, swirling their wine around dramatically. “Taste is a chemical thing, sure, but it is also a presentation thing. Have you not heard the phrase “you eat with your eyes first”? Your perception of a food has a definite effect on how you taste it. Or drink, in this case.”

Visibly intrigued, John set down his cup, folding his arms. “Really? You think if I was given two plates of the same dish, and it was the exact same food in every way except for presentation, I could tell? Like I'd be fooled by that.”

“Absolutely. Try mixing a bit of green food colouring with some mashed potatoes. I guarantee you will feel some difference, and it won't be the colouring itself, which is designed to not taste.”

“We should,” Alexander said, butting in. “But first, you should put your money where your mouth is. Is that wine legit?”

Lafayette shrugged, closed their eyes, and took a long sip. They swished it around their mouth, a considering expression on their face. Alexander scoffed- it was pure theatrics. Then, Lafayette swallowed, then broke into a grin.

“It totally is!” They snorted. “Try it!”

Alexander took a sip. John made a gagging noise from behind. “It's gross!” He wasn't wrong.

“It's the shit wine! The super cheap crap made with the grapes they can't use for the good stuff! Hah, I'd recognize it anywhere.” Lafayette took another swig. “I love it.”

Alexander took another sip. No, it was still the most disgusting wine he'd ever tasted. “You can have mine.” Alexander set his cup next to Lafayette.

“Same,” John copied him, leaving Lafayette 3 cups. “Well, I guess that's fair. It was pretty cheap for a French import.”

“Oh no, this won't do,” Lafayette grinned, “I can't just have a whole bottle of wine. Not unless you two are drinking something. What if I'm taken advantage of?”

“What if that's the goal?” John smirked, returning the jab. It made Lafayette laugh. Alexander felt warm and fuzzy again.

Alexander stood up to go check out the stockpile himself. “It's too late John, we've been foiled. Now, do you want a beer or cooler?”

John considered for a moment. “Cooler.”

It didn't take long for all of them to get a pleasant buzz, perhaps more than that. John found some internet videos to watch and all three of them stretched out on the bed.

There was a pause between videos as the queue app loaded. Lafayette took a deep breath from Alexander's right. “You know, I'm not sure which of you I'm jealous of.”

“Um,” Alexander said.

John leaned forward from Alexander's left, similarly baffled. “What?”

Lafayette loosed a sharp breath from their mouth, covering their face with one hand. “This is stupid. When I first got here, I was jealous of you, John, for having Alexander. Now, I'm still that, but I'm also jealous of you, Alexander, for having John.”

Alexander felt his face heat up. “Ah, this is inappropriate. I don't mean to make either of you uncomfortable.”

“No!” John sat up more fully. “Are you kidding? I have a huge crush on you too!” He wilted a bit. “Why do you think I overreacted?”

“Well,” Alexander felt something hopeful stir in his chest. “Why do you think I got so defensive? God, I've crushed on Laf for at least a couple years.” He turned to Lafayette. “And then, when you came her for the first time? It was- it was poetic.”

Lafayette huffed again, averting their eyes. “Stop, you're making me blush.” They took a quick swig of their drink. “I suppose we all like each other. I'd never do anything to hurt your relationship though, you know that, right?”

It was a touching thing to say. Reassuring, by definition. Still, Alexander felt a little sad, hearing it. His love for John wasn't diminished in the slightest, but the idea of having Lafayette too- of both of them having Lafayette- tickled his mind.

John was changing the topic though, and Lafayette was eagerly taking it, so Alexander put the thought away.

--

“You're all idiots.” Hercules told him, blankly. Alexander felt like they'd had this conversation already, somehow. “Talk to John about it, then talk to Lafayette. It's that simple, and I bet you anything they'd both want to give it a try.”

Alexander whined. “Herc, it's not that simple. What if it freaks John out?”

“You've been together since highschool, I think it's going to take more than that to scare him off!” Hercules reached for his iced drink. It was way too cold for an iced drink today.

“Oh, how do you know?”

Hercules snorted. “Well, you know Aaron, right?” Alexander scowled. Aaron was actually a pretty good guy, if a bit shifty and suspiciously quiet all the time. He was also dating Hercules now, which was just weird. “Aaron told me he was polyamorous. It didn't change that we're still in a monogamous relationship right now.”

Alexander shifted back, taken by surprise. “Really? And he's okay with you just telling me this?”

“He specifically told me it was fine, so yeah.”

“Huh,” Alexander sat back in his chair. “And are you polyamorous, you think?”

Hercules shrugged. “I'm..,” He brought up a hand, making a so-so gesture. “I think, if we both met the right person, I could try dating both of them. But it doesn't have to work that way either, Aaron can date someone that I'm not. We agreed the someone has to at least be someone I like and can hang out with, though.

Alexander hummed, an unconscious considering noise. “That sounds.. simple, when you put it like that.”

“Well,” Hercules smirked, “my boyfriend is very smart. Maybe it's rubbed off on me.”

“Hah!” Alexander laughed, “If eight years of being my friend couldn't do anything, I doubt a few months of dating Aaron could.”

“Hey, shut up!” Hercules pretended to scowl through a round of chuckles. “I'm in the middle of a nursing degree! That's hardcore science stuff, you know!”

“Yeah, your welcome.” Alexander's response probably deserved the friendly shove. It didn't stop Alexander from shoving back.

--

When Alexander quietly brought it up, John nearly jumped over himself in agreement.

“Yes! I mean please! I mean, I didn't want to overstep because I love you, but I would very much like to kiss Laf too.”

“Well,” Alexander said, slightly taken aback. “I'd like it to involve more than kissing, if you're okay with that. I want to date them like I'm dating you.”

John nodded. “No, I know. I think for me, I like Laf. I definitely think they're gorgeous. I don't have the same background with them as you do, but I think we could get along and I'd like to try dating them too.”

“Okay,” Alexander considered his next option. He hadn't thought it would come so quickly. It was obvious John had an aesthetic crush on Lafayette, but he'd never known there were other feelings involved.

Then again, Alexander remembered that he hadn't known about John's crush on him, way back in high school. Privately, Alexander considered that he might just be very bad at this.

They went to Lafayette the next day, together, at a coffeeshop under the idea that it would feel less like cornering.

They didn't speak for a long time. Then,

“You both like me?”

“Yea-” “yes!-” They both tripped over themselves.

Lafayette averted their eyes, pulling at the sleeve of their colourful, neon sweater- an uncharacteristic show of nerves. “You're sure? You're not... concerned about my marks?”

“Absolutely not!” John cut out before Alexander could put a word in edgewise. “I was dumb. And sure, I have an issue with old souls, maybe especially with Silvers or Golds. But I like you, a lot. No one's past lives define them, though. What I have an issue with is the social attitude around the whole subject, and how it changes the way people treat each other.”

Lafayette allowed a tiny smile. “Yeah, that's fair. It's also not as if it saves me from other social attitudes. Like, did you know once someone walked up to me and said I must be confused about my gender because so many past lives must have scrambled me up?” The words made Alexander light up with immediate defensive anger.

“Ugh,” John nodded. “What a fucker. Did you punch him?”

“No, it was the person approving me for the exchange. I did think it was silly though, since before he knew, he was talking about all the sights I must have seen in my lives. It was a very dramatic shift.”

John made a disgusted face. “It's the worst when they have something you need, I feel you on that.”

“So,” Alexander said, when the two of them had gone quiet. “Will you go out with us?” Just saying the words made his stomach flip. He was chasing what he wanted- they all were.

“I-”, Lafayette stuttered. “Yes. I'd love to.”

It was as simple as that.

--

-Epilogue-

Life carried on, it always did. Still, Alexander never thought he'd have a freshly bought home with his two partners and best friends. He also didn't think that it would have a back patio this nice, or a pool; but when put all together, their inheritances and incomes were considerably impressive.

“I'm scared, sometimes,” Lafayette said quietly, ankles submerged in pristine pool water.

“Is this a life thing, or a void thing?” John asked from the patio chair.

Alexander considered both statement and question, drifting aimlessly in a pool tube. “I guess you could map all fears into those two categories.”

Lafayette hummed. “Actually, both, kind of. You know there's never, in the history of modern science, and by all historical counts, been a person with more than 203 total lives, or 202 marks, right?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Alexander nodded. “Weird stuff.”

“And you also know that even thousands of years ago there were accounts of people with close to the maximum mark count, so you know it's not any kind of “there's only been 203 lifespans worth of humans” Creationist thing.”

Alexander and John both snorted in unison.

“Well, the dominant theory is that it's because after many lives, your soul just expires. Sometimes earlier, because there's a disproportionately small number of people who actually make it this far. But 203 is the upper limit.” Lafayette kicked their foot, creating a small splash. “I know I won't be able to remember either of you, in the next life. But I'm kind of scared to think that you two will go on to so many lives that I won't get to be a part of. Because my souls going to decompose or something.”

The thought was heavy. Alexander thought for something to say. “Well, you know, there's no proof that some reincarnation chains don't just stop at very early numbers too. It's less likely, but maybe John and I will wither away while you go to live all the way to 203. It's impossible to tell.”

“You're both being way too philosophical. I say, the essence of what's really you and me begins and ends with our physical bodies. My next life isn't me, it's just some new sucker I passed my weird, metaphysical 'essence-of-human' off to. Live life while you can, and all that.”

“Hah!” Lafayette barked out a surprised laugh. “I have never heard something so morbid be used for comfort.”

“Hmm,” John considered. “Did it work, though?”

“...Yes, actually.”

Alexander considered the idea. Maybe you really only did live once. For all that people had these marks, souls were still undefinable. If soul marks didn't exist, Alexander suspected that no one would believe in souls at all.

The thought was morbid. Alexander found himself liking it anyways.

#fic #long fic #laflams #plz enjoy #i gotta run and take my bro to work

[justtryingtwolive]

Hello

TW: self harm, ED

I know this is really long but it’s all worth it to understand me. I’m not great at talking about myself but here it goes... My name is Marina, I was recently diagnosed with fibromyalgia. This means that I am in a lot of pain most of the time, the issue with fibromyalgia is that there is no cause for the pain it just exists. To understand me and the causes you need to understand my life so...

As a young kid growing up I played outside a lot, spen the summers swimming in lakes and the winters figure skating. When I was 9 I started to train for competitive figure skating. At 10 took a year off to focus on dance and how to be more fluid with my movements. This year was amazing, I met so many new people, learned ballet, jazz, lyrical and tried hip hop. This was also the year I goined Girl Guides I had done Brownies a couple years before but that was my parrents choice. I had always wanted to move up to Guides but it conflicted with skating so I couldn’t. After the year was up I went back to skating. I had done a bit of training in my off year but not too much so I was a little rusty at first. It took me a couple weeks but I got back into it and was better than ever, but everyone else seemed to get skinnier and i got bigger. None of my old dresses fit nicely I needed all new skates, pants and tops. This was so embarrassing I had just taken a year off to get in better shape and I just ended up ballooning (or so I thought). This is when I started cutting back and selectively eating. I wouldn’t eat junk food, or eat after practice. I stopped having oatmeal and cereal for breakfast I instead had a frozen fruit smoothie. Lunch was easy because I just “forgot” my lunch at home, making sure I brought it once in a while to not seem suspicious. Dinner was hard to avoid, we had family dinner almost every night, if I had practice at 7 we ate at 6, I got off at 6 we ate at 7. The rink was walking distance from my house so I was often there on my own and just walked home. (This was in a small village where everyone knew each other). It started getting worse and worse but I started to lose weight and that meant I could jump higher and spin faster because I didn’t have as much gravity pulling me down. I felt like I was floating on air. I spent 15-20 hours a week on the ice and it only increased as I got older.

The worst part about going back was I couldn’t do Guides. When I started middle school I was able to join pathfinders and it set me on my new life journey, although I didn’t know it yet.

As a skater I got injured a lot, mostly just strains and sprains but the occasional break. It got to the point I would just wrap my anke, wrist, knee or whatever body part was hurting that day and ice it.

By the time I was 16 in Grade 10 I was competing at a youth provincal level. I was so excited, I had just qualified for my first national competition I was so excited it’s what I had dreamed of since I was 5. Getting ready for nationals was the hardest grind of my life, training went from 20 to 50 hours a week, I would spend entire days on the ice. I did school work in between ice times when they had to clean the ice. It was hard but I was loving it. My diet consisted of protein bars and coffee. (I blame this for my ice coffee obsession) at this point I was no more than 100 lbs and 5’4. I felt on top of the world.

But a week before nationals my ankles started getting really bad, then it was my knees, then other parts like my wrists and shoulders. I didn’t think anything of it at first I till I woke up one day and could barely walk, still I brushed it off as just muscle strain from working too hard, I would be able to rest in a week. Typically my joints would feel better throughout the day as I warmed them up. By the time I got to nationals I was so hyped, I had never competed on a scale like this, there were cameras, people bought real tickets and I suddenly got overtly nervous. I was walking through the dressing room areas and everyone else had the expensive rolly skate bag with the tailored dresses made custom by a professional and I had a ratty old suitcase we found in the basement and a handmade dress sewn by my mother. As a kid I was embarrassed, everyone else looked so much better than me. But I was just happy to be there and able to compete. The competition took place over a couple days. I was close to the beginning because I was new and didn’t have a real chance at placing. I spent the first couple days grinding on the ice, or practicing in the hotel or in the pool or wherever I was. The day that I was finally going to compete in my short program I was up at 6 in the gym and on the ice by 8. The competition started at 1 and I was in the first group. We all got kicked off the ice about 11:30 so they could clean the ice and get ready. Looking back I don’t think I had eaten anything that day, I was so stressed and the thought of food made me sick. The first group of 10 skaters including me were let into the ice for a final 15 min warm up. This was it, after this I was officially and national level skater. And that’s where everything went wrong. I was practicing a double jump (I can’t remember which one anymore) and when I landed my foot slipped and I heard a crack. At first I didn’t thing anything of it and tried to get up but my right leg wouldn’t move properly. Then my tail bone started hurting and I started crying, I somehow managed to get myself up and over to my coach. I had a choice suck it up and compete or go see a doctor. I went to the comp medic to see what they thought and they rushed me to the hospital. (A lot of this is a blur that has been filled in with stories from my parents and friends) I was in the ER and the doctor told me I had a broken tail bone, not a big deal I’ve done that before, but also I had fractured part of my hip and needed surgery right away. After this I remember very little, only the roof of the surgical suite and waking up unable to move most of my body. I was devistated, of all times why did this have to happen now! I was on my way up I was living my dreams.

I was in the hospital for months. I couldn’t get out of bed because they casted my hip area and leg, it sounds really weird but I can’t explain it any better. This was the worst time in my life even 7 years later I can’t thing of anything worse. I went from being an athletic, skinny, girl always on the go. To lying in bed, eating chips and watching Netflix 24/7. During this time I went from under 100 to about 175 lbs in the span of months. I was so embarrassed and made my dysmorphia even worse. I went back to high school in May 2013. I hated every minute. Everyone looked at me and talked about me. I was the joke of the school. During this time I got really depressed my parents tried to get me to talk to someone but they made me very uncomfortable and I was very closed off eventually they gave up and told me to suck it up. I felt like the world hated me and that no one wanted me here anyway. I started self harming to numb the pain but also feel something. I felt like If I hurt me them maybe I won’t hurt any one else. My parents only recently found out about this recently.

I made it to the summer but nothing fit me, my bathing suits were like strings compared to what I now needed and I didn’t have any money to get new ones. That summer I spent doing a lot of lounging reading books, swimming and exploring nature around my house. Honestly looking back this was one of the best summers ever. I was home alone most of the time because my dad worked and my mum took my siblings to her cottage. This was more freedom than I had ever had I was able to do what I wanted I didn’t have a training schedule for the first time in 6 years. I wanted to go back to skating the next September, but everyone was whispering and looking at me just like in school but this time is was the adults, I don’t think I even made it onto the ice that day. I had just stared a new school, leaving all of my friends (not that I had many) behind and starting over where I knew no one. When registering for classes I picked the typical grade 11 English, math, bio,physics, chemistry. But I was left with some extra electives for the first time. At my new school they offered a dance program, but to get into the grade 11 class I needed grade 9 or 10 so first semester I took grade 9 and seccond I took grade 11. The dance teacher was very understanding about what was going on and allowed me to adapt to what I couldn’t physically so while still recovering. Even now she is my favourite teacher ever! I made it through my other classes and the rest of high school was pretty un eventful, except I started to get hurt again. I could just be walking on flat ground and my ankle would give out or my knee would lock up or my wrist hurt so bad I couldn’t take notes. I went to the ER at the start but each time they said they couldn’t find anything and they thought I was making it up. After a few months I stopped going because they seemed annoyed with me even though I was in crazy body pain. I couldn’t move some mornings, others I was fine, some days I needed crutches but others I could run and dance. It was crazy and everyone thought I was making it up so I started to belive them. I ended up taking an extra semester of high school to finish off some classes that I wanted for university. I also stayed behind because I needed to have jaw surgery. This was due to a craniofacial difference I was born with, a cleft lip and palate. While this surgery is not necessary in all cases, my jaw was small and slightly mis alligned. This was fine I had no issues with this I spent a week in the hospital, watched Netflix and hung out with friends. This stay wasn’t as hard because I could move around, I wasn’t confined to my bed.

In September 2016 I started University at Dalhousie I. Halifax , Nova Scotia. This was amazing because no one knew me there I didn’t have people holding me to old standards. I met some of my best friends (and former roommates) in my residence building. We would have movie parties in my room and study parties in another, it was a blast. I became vegetarian very quickly, partly due to the gross meat options in the meal hall but also because I didn’t like the taste of meat I had cut it out almost completely when I was young and didn’t like it after that. Another reason was the ethical portion of it, why should they die to feed me when I can survive without it.

First year ended and we all moved out and into other apartments, we were still close but not as close as we were. When I moved I started working at a Sobeys grocery store close to the school. It was great I was shy and quiet for the first little bit but I came out of my shell and now they want me back in it lol. During seccond year I was trained as a supervisor so I made sure that all the casheirs were looked after(I often describe it as adult babysitting). One day I was standing arround checking out how the night was and I notice this woman come in and she askes me where to find tape, she is wearing a Girl Guide shirt!! I had been trying to reach out to a unit here for a year!! I told her where to find it and quickly wrote my name number and email on a piece of paper and watched as she was trying to check out. I made sure to find her and open a register for her to go through. I also gave her my number and asked her to contact me and that I had been trying for a while to join a unit she seemed confused until she remembered she was wearing a guide shirt.

I get an email a few days later explaining what their unit was doing and they were exited to have me. So the next Thursday I show up to this meeting and the other leaders and I immediately clicked. One of them had just graduated from my program and most of the others were all young students just like me. That first meeting I ended up skipping a physics exam to go to, but I don’t regret it one bit. At the end of the year we were moving locations, this meant that the craft tote bins had to be removed and stored in someone’s house.

The only people returning was me and one other girl Natasha, she wasn’t there very often but she was super cute and seemed really nice. Since I had moved into a house I offered to store them in my place rather than her apartment. We spoke mostly over email for the first bit. I ended up running in to her at her work place and we finally exchanged numbers and facebooks. We talked a bunch over the summer to figure out what we wanted to do.

During this time I was trying to focus on me, I spent so much of my youth worring about how everyone else perceived me and not as much on how I did. I stoped self harming on my own but like anything else it’s addicting, I started talking to a therapist at the university and she recognized that yes I was depressed. she was also impressed that I was able to have the will power to stop on my own, but really I had just thrown out the jar and didn’t want to dig through the garbage. I started on some anti-depressants and it took a while but we found a good concoction.

When we started meeting to plan we were still kind of awkward, she was super sweet and I wanted to get to know her but I come off as overbearing sometimes and I didn’t want to scare her off. It worked out that we had the same time off classes. Whe had another class and I had work, so after class I would go to her school meet with her for ~3 hours then walk to work. The best part about Halifax is that the university’s are downtown and super close to everything, so even when busses are slow or not running it’s not too far a walk. During this time we became really close we spent a lot of time together planning, organizing and getting to the meeting location. For the first few months we bussed there each week with the craft totes, we then started to bring only what we needed but it was typically 4-6 reusable bags worth. Eventually we were able to leave them at the location, this made it much easier. Only having 2-3 bags worth each week. The next obstacle was cookies, we had 30 cases of cookes and neither of us had a car. Luckily our Commissioner was able to drop us off with the cookies. But we still hauled some to and from my house each week. With each week Natasha and I grew closer, she was the first person I came out to as bisexual. We also got a new leader Jordan, she is super nice and a real adult (not a student) I was worried at first that she would throw off our dynamic but she just made it better. In the winter I ended up buying a car, this was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. It made getting to work and guides easier, I could just keep stuff in my car I didn’t need to haul everything around with me. Unlike most units in our area, we stayed going until the end of June, many units close early due to students going home for the summer.

In May i had moved once again into a bigger house and Natasha was a huge help in that, she helped me set up my room and unpack. During this time I also went mostly vegan, there was some things that had milk or eggs in it but I did buy any more. We were rarely spending a day apart, we became best friends. We often went camping with her parter. The three of us would pack into my car and go, often booking a site on our way there. We stayed at 5 different provincal parks and visited about 10 others. We spent so much time together and it was some of the best times we would often get home and just sit in the car and have life chats or was really nice to be able to talk to someone who actually cared about how I was doing. My life seemed great for a bit, my one roommate stared to get toxic, she ended up kicking out my really good friend. I only stayed because I had nowhere else to go, I ended up getting a cat because she was so lonely and sad at the SPCA. She is abosolutly amazing and I love her to death! I don’t know what is it about petting cats that seems to make the rest of the world invisible. The toxicity got to the point of me wanting to sleep in my car rather than potentially run into her. This caused my anxiety to sky rocket and throw off the balance I had going.

Natasha started to talk to me about this pain she was having but having no idea why it was occurring. This reminded me of when I was younger and I would constantaly have weird pains I thought it was normal because there was no physical symptoms so I thought it happened to everyone. I talked to my doctor about it and he ordered a bunch of tests to try and determine what it was. All my tests came back clean and I seemed in perfect health. The stress of my living situation, as well as school and my grandfather passing away sent me into a spiral. There were days that I wouldn’t come out of my room. I often only left for work or the bathroom, I fell back into the not eating food habits, I stared self harming again. I was so low I went weeks without showering simply because I didn’t have the energy or will power to do so. My toxic roommate told me that my depression wasn’t valid and that my anxiety is fake, I got so mad that I slammed and locked my door, I left out my window and went for a drive. I ended up calling Natasha and she calmed me down, I don’t know where I’d be if she hasn’t picked up that phone call. By mid October I couldn’t stand it any longer. And I knew I need to make a change. At the same time I got my fibromyalgia diagnosis, which is a rule out everything else diagnosis. This also threw me through a loop realizing I don’t have to just internalize this and suck it up, this caused me to end up not going to classes in the fall because I simply couldn’t mentally or physically do it.

Natasha had been talking about moving out of her place and I thought this is my chance. We are already best friends we spend so much time together this will be great. In November we signed a lease and moved in later that month. It was a journey and a half, we tried to move as much as we could using my small car and managed most of it but beds and bigger stuff didn’t fit. We ended up sleeping on our camp matresses for the first little bit until we got our beds. All four of our cats are getting along for the most part. They are the cutest little demons, as I type this the 2 youngest are play fighting over top of me... ok no longer playing.

It has been a crazy couple moths with my diagnosis and trying to get meds to help it. Luckily my pain base line is really low, but it flares up a lot, often at work or when I’m not moving around a lot and it’s even worse on my period, I can’t walk some days it gets so bad. Luckily I have a team of amazing people working with me to get myself back on track. I’m back in school now and it’s going much better, I still haven’t found the perfect drugs but we are getting there. I have my down days but am having more and more up days. And I know that if ever I need something that I can always holler and/or pet cats. I have the best support team in the world and wouldn’t change a thing.

#survivor #halifax #canada #fibromyalgia #pain pain go away

[recentanimenews]

The English Voices of Naruto, Boruto, and Sailor Jupiter Offer Their Advice to Aspiring Voice Actors

VIZ Media held their World of Voice-Acting panel this past weekend with special guests from the English voice casts of Naruto, Boruto, and Sailor Moon. The guests were led in a guided Q&A by Urian Brown from VIZ, and fans were given the opportunity to ask questions as well. The panel began with a rundown from Brown of VIZ titles releasing next year, such as Fushigi Yugi: Byakko Senki, How Do We Relationship?, and Ping Pong. He also announced that VIZ would be releasing Splatoon: Squid Kids Comedy Show and Junji Ito’s Venus in the Blind Spot collection in summer and fall of 2020, respectively.

  He then introduced the first two guests from Sailor Moon: Amanda Miller, who plays Sailor Jupiter, and Erika Harlacher, who plays Sailor Star Maker, and began the Q&A by asking how they became voice actors. Amanda said that she had always been a theater nerd, so she ended up taking some classes from Tony Oliver when he came to her college. She enjoyed dubbing over anime and video games in those classes and Oliver saw her talent and recommended she pursue voice acting. She ended up getting an internship at a studio in LA where she occasionally filled in for bit parts until they started letting her audition for better roles.

    Erika said she’d gone into college leaning towards graphic or computer design because she wanted a job related to cartoons and games. She also ended up taking classes with Tony Oliver who suggested she pursue voice acting as a career, got a studio internship, and filled in for bit parts before eventually auditioning for bigger roles. It just so happened to be the same studio Amanda was interning at too. “Know Tony Oliver is the secret here,” Brown added.

  He asked Amanda if playing a role like Jupiter is fun at all. “Jupiter was my favorite character as a kid,” Amanda answered. She’d grown up relating to her as a taller, more athletic kid, and Jupiter helped show her that you don’t have to be just a tough kid or just a soft kid. When asked about her first recording session for Sailor Jupiter, she admitted that the whole process had made her incredibly nervous given her history with the character and the fact that approvals for the dub voices had gone through the original creator Naoko Takeuchi herself. The director had to take her aside to call her down, and Stephanie Shea, the voice of Sailor Moon, had to call her and tell her to “suck it up.” 

  “Also, I accidentally punched her in the face at AX backstage,” she said. “I had just met her that day.”

    Brown asked Erika if she was as cool and aloof as Sailor Star Maker in real life. “I am the opposite of both those things,” she said. “I’m not cool at all and very high strung.” She said she had to reach deep down into her “acting database” for the role.

  When asked who their favorite weird monster they fought in the show was, Amanda said there was one monster they all called the Katy Perry monster because it was themed around sweets, which reminded everyone of Katy Perry’s “California Girls” video. “It’s true. All girls from California can shoot frosting,” Erika revealed.

  Brown pointed out that the Starlights in Sailor Moon are only around for one season but are still fan favorites, and asked Erika what she thought their appeal was. In addition to their fashion sense being “on point,” Erika said that their arc felt bigger and more impactful than one single season. Amanda added that there’s a “forbidden fruit” factor to it, given the season they appear in wasn’t originally dubbed before, meaning the only way to watch it as a kid was to somehow get your hands on the Japanese version. Erika admitted she hadn’t even known they existed before.

    When asked if there was any pressure coming into a role that already had so many fans, Amanda said there was “a lot of pressure” given how many fans relate to the character as she did, but that the fanbase has been extremely welcoming and supportive of her.

  Both were asked what their most practical advice for anyone serious about pursuing voice acting was. Amanda suggested that you pursue acting on a screen or stage first since the restrictions of voice acting add even more challenge. Theater and singing lessons are good for helping you maneuver your voice, and improv would help as well. Erika seconded the improv suggestion since oftentimes as a voice actor you won’t get scripts ahead of time or be forced to entirely change direction with a character on the fly. 

  With the Sailor Moon questions out of the way, Erika went backstage and Brown introduced another guest: Maile Flanagan, the longtime voice of Naruto Uzumaki. Amanda Miller, as the voice of Boruto Uzumaki, remained for the Naruto portion. A clip of the two performing together in Boruto: Naruto the Movie was played, showcasing their voices.

    Brown noted that Naruto is currently celebrating its 20th anniversary and asked what that journey from the very beginning has been like for Maile. “A long one,” she joked. “I’ve aged considerably.” He then turned to Amanda and asked her what it’s been like suddenly jumping in with Boruto. She said that it’s been one thing with Sailor Moon where it ran and ended, whereas Naruto has been running for 20 straight. Fans have grown up with Naruto into adulthood, she said, so they’ll chastise her for being mad at him as Boruto. “It’s good, but it’s also funny.”

  When asked about how she got into voice acting, Maile revealed she had never wanted to become an actor. She’d gone to college for math and polyscience, but ended up joining an improv group that did well and relocated to Minneapolis. She started working there before moving to LA and doing commercials. She eventually began taking voiceover classes and got her very first roles in the Men in Black and Jackie Chan cartoons within the same week.

  Maile was asked what the first recording session for Naruto was like, she admitted that it had been really hard and that she wishes she could do them over again since she hadn’t gotten to know him as a character yet. She’d also found out how huge the series already was in Japan and it made her nervous. 

    Brown asked Amanda if she tried modeling Boruto’s voice after Naruto’s. “I couldn’t even try,” she said. “Maile has such a unique voice.” The voice she uses for Boruto is more like her natural voice, and she also realized it’s nearly identical to her “making fun of people” voice.

  When asked if she sees Yuri Lowenthal as a rival at all considering he voiced Sasuke, Maile said she doesn’t consider anyone her voice acting rival, and added that men in voice acting get more work than women anyway, though the inequity is slowly getting better.

  Amanda was asked if she thinks Boruto has grown at all since his story started, to which she said that it’s still too early to really tell, though she sees his frustration with Naruto as motivated by the fact that he still remembers a time when his dad was much more present before he became Hokage. 

  Maile said her advice for aspiring voice actors is to have confidence, because if you don’t they’ll never give you the job. Amanda added that changing your posture can help change your performance. Erika came back out on stage, and as the panel closed all were invited to give some final advice. Amanda said to be yourself instead of trying to be like someone else. Maile stressed practicing and putting in the work. Erika echoed Maile, adding that it’s both a lot of fun and a lot of hard work.

    While the panel held a great deal of good advice for aspiring voice actors, it also served as a great example of how dubs can breathe new life into an old series. Sailor Moon may have ended long ago, but the recent dub delivered something entirely new to longtime fans everywhere. Meanwhile, Naruto lives on through Boruto, adding new members to its illustrious cast with every season. Who knows, maybe someday you could voice the same characters you look up to now. All you need is a little luck, a lot of hard work, and the personal tutelage of Tony Oliver.   

  Are you an aspiring voice actor? Do you know Tony Oliver? Let us know in the comments below!

    -----

Danni Wilmoth is a Features writer for Crunchyroll and co-host of the video game podcast Indiecent. You can find more words from her on Twitter @NanamisEgg.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

[idontknowstory]

Modern Night

No fun - I could dance; but I won’t. Not tonight, here. At 9:30, one after another, we may jettison over and in to wait; wait and wait. So, I sat in my car for about 8 minutes to listen to a man that was so triumphantly sure to devastated. Yes, the math is right this time. Time for my try for the modern night. Two jean-head-to-toe girls sat to my right. The young man bopping his head behind the light. Than another - William, was his name. (As the girls checked and left) - he had that wide smile that never left and not a plan to begin. He said his friends left him stoned and they would be back in an hour. An hour? I didn’t know what to say about anything; two boys came up. They immediately  started wacking William on the shoulder and saying how happy he should be without saying anything at all. We all had nothing to say either, the girls were still gone - the man behind still in shy rhythm.  They decided, and then I asked. Could I go and keep some level to their dumb pace? I knew, but they didn’t. So, they asked and I followed them to a staff. He obviously pointed, and I just followed behind. Right on time; I was beginning to sweat inside. The pressure and the pressure. Ignition and the silence was mine to attack, or nudge amusingly and it was that obvious it would be my turn - now. Now, what I asked the sweet boy Tyler was a set up. Not so I could say or pretend I was a successor’s success, but simply to make him feel good. He said he waited on people and couldn’t pronounce things at his duty. Tyler was the most outgoing of the three. But, the one that wanted to go to the rock show, which I caught without a show, wouldn’t look me in the eyes - because of: ’Adults suck than you are one’, blasted on my sweatshirt. I was just a big fan of these things. So, I kept smoking Tyler’s cigarettes and blurted out an array of unimportant things and pointless maneuvers I didn’t, myself, care to interpret or carry on much of the planted energy. He kept not looking, than he kept smiling, and than he stopped handing me cigarettes. I was ready to go home. I am different now. The room was feeling like my hands. Everyone was blasted and obvious. The lights blasted into my eyes, and my new friends blasted away to go chief some more somewhere else, now. I went to the back to find myself a seat and found a nice couple to my right (when I sat down) and to my left were boys I recognized from the line outside. The bobbers were lifeless and my hands were plastered to my sides until I looked at my phone a lot. I never go anywhere with anyone. People come and go till they have a lot to say than whatever. One gentleman said the third act was: ‘alright as fuck’. I laughed and I said he was about right. He told about a bunch of artists, and asked me when I thought the headliner would be on. He knew a lot about that night. That’s when I left, because he informed that my hero would be playing: a dj set. In the car; now. I played a song he wrote into my phone and I knew he didn’t know about a lot because he wouldn’t know what I thought of when he talked about what he knew. But what did I know or not know and what do I know or not now? I am getting these brilliant , for some reason, edges smoothed across; it prompts the prompt: what is worth what? I stopped for a milkshake and pondered like an old scholar about the choices I have and the choices that have been made.

Being home

I am always helping people, or doing something else. I can’t save a soul, and that’s help - self help; inspiring for. Helping people come to terms with terms is a lot more productive than smoking cigarettes. Getting out for cigarettes is the worst reason to get out. Yet, I have my stash of those and these; these secrets, so I never get out. Secrets as in the government already knows and just waits for something to happen related to give me a break - they follow me in little, black cars. I won’t help you because that wouldn’t help me. Just know my soul is black and damned/red eyes a giants voice; but now tired. A good movie, a better book: A Farewell To Arms. A lot of killing, you know. A lot of kisses beforehand and afterwards. If I got drafted I would apply for freakish. I wish to earn money that way; by doing nothing but be blasted by psychological defects. Anyway, these were developed. My family is family - passing on what? If there’s one thing we don’t do it would be touching, or even speaking. Growing up I read, let’s say, A Farewell To Arms. Learned a lot about lying - I couldn’t comprehend. But people do love books, and that’s what I do. I am an editor. I edit books - and I’m tired. Instead of calling up my family, or putting in a movie, I decide to do the obvious thing and make up some coffee. I am home early, and I need to for some reason get work done for tomorrow’s edge. By God’s grace I work from home but I need to speed because secrets keep you up and tomorrow has a lot - and so do these people I work for. I guess. Ernest Hemingway cared about dialect; purpose in measurement - when is it suppose to happen? And surely the resolution of a why. How does one care enough to write? What could it mean to just say what you need to say to the one that needs a hear? - it is because you are speaking to the masses, and giving permission for experience is holy. The formula of story is remarkably vast but also obviously vast. It’s complicated and right there, alive and ready to action. But no, you flip to the next page and you find that the writer is just some person without a clue of direction. Just, ‘alright as fuck.’ Why care enough to write or even read? I’ll tell you that this is where you die, once and for all - again and again. It is so different. My ego has to be correct - at this duty. I can’t not know how to pronounce things and I can’t be stoned. Connor Davis wrote something about fine, fairness. The story is 12 chapters, he’s going to make a lot of money. I am sure that the future will not forget to be kind to both of us, but I correct. A rich man’s story about feeding birds while the kids run around in the park, the girl left him. His fingers touch the grass while he reads - like, violins playing in the park. I will encourage him to more whys. The story is sadly demands and gives. You’re a malgre lui. I think of her often. She is a pandit, bandit. Nevertheless, always sharing her original resolutions and what she got from museums. Very rich, very much earned right. Simply, to be a dakini with her purpose. The right questions and temperament; never mad at God.   Shakespeare said there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. Good and Evil, when viewed exoterically, are a duality, neither member of which is conceivable or capable of mentally existing independently of the other. Being thus inseparable, Good and Evil, when viewed esoterically, are intrinsically a unity. Thoughts are not always original and it is hard to correct thoughts whether they or yours or not yours. But thinking is the divider. She knows - they don’t. What do I know….this book sucks.

The Grocery Store

I walked the neighborhood twice around because I lost my keys through the hole in my jeans. Once I had my hooray I walked the incline to my house. The sun was out and there was a  found man in the neighborhood going in for a shower. A once thought of a dorja, and before that I dreamt that from my heart issued a sun, the light of which shone over the whole world. My parents asked me to join them on their ski trip - after I showered. The trishula would fight no more battles in war-zone and I will meet no more people. A good star may be dead and their may be ghost in the garden. I said I would watch the house for the days that will pass. The learned and found shishyas when I traveled showed me the voidness, the fruits of practicing the precepts, and the method of attaining deliverance. I cut sugar out of my diet so I thought my family should too. This would be my brother’s first voyage ever - he is just a child. We never really get along - probably because I am much older than him - had many more lovers - seen more snow on trees. I bought him chips and snow boots. He would know I mean no harm. I filled up an elephant size load into the basket and began to check out. DECLINED. again… DECLINED….I was blushing and when I felt like crying  I did - a lady handed out to me with her long right arm a large stack of bills. In the parking lot I called my father and said I should stay awhile.

Waiting outside

My parents kept renewing their aphrodisiac of banning cigarettes. I smoked on the porch and felt terrible with the cat that always hung outside hoping they wouldn’t come home too soon - the day was perfect, now. Through my mind I pondered midnight kisses - the math. It’s simple - midnight kisses and a midnight kiss are the same thing but entirely different. New Years was right around the corner - what a marvelous holiday, indeed. I was 20 years old when I came to the conclusion that I was God or something serious. Now, I am something much worse - broke….so the sky is going down and headlights pass owned by black cars and my parents come to the resolution of home - in their black car or is it dark blue? They woofed my scent; got angry. My dad showed me his suit, my mom: her girls at school, and my brother was just glad to talk to someone about anything like my mom but less eager; more had to do. Once we we were all done being dead serious, I went up to my room and the cat followed me up. I, of course, squatted down and took a good long look at all my books and than letters I got from friends or pictures of me or old records. I put a cigarette in my mouth and just let it hang there while I paced around for a few moments. I could see my brother feeding the cat now on the side yard - I knew the cat was quick but wasn’t suppose to be getting any of the same with my time - but everything was working a way. My parent’s were leaving in the morning, and we talked about that over dinner. Where was my sister?

Night/Coffee

Cold outside, but still puffing away at a cigarette on the side of the shop. I thought about all the people that come by here. And whether I not I can respect a barista when they see a million better people any and every day. I guess my life sort reads like a screenplay, I thought. Of course I am book editor and have no sense of decor, and this isn’t a production of any sort. I let myself a first impression on everyone the moment I walked in. I ordered my usual iced-mocha. Corny and dumb; I didn’t have enough money on my gift card so instead of letting my have it the hard worker let me have it. Embarrassed and weak in the knees, I decided anyhow to sit outside in the almost snow. This way I could smoke cigarettes but also maintain the esk of the place and be at work about something or another. I brought along my drive with the book; the one on fine, fairness. I skipped a few pages because my legs were shaking and people were coming in and out behind till in front; that is startling.

“One star, shining through the window - it’s really big.   It’s getting closer, she’s exhausted - let’s go back to bed. In your dreams, it’s a nightmare - next time hit record.”

I knew this had to be the most devious book I have ever laid eyes on - I was almost sick. He went on to talk about rimy days and rimy nights. Talking about sins and the misfortunes. She swung out the door (stranger), lit a cigarette and gave me the largest glare while she was tying up her coat. She owned a black car, her name is Riley. We never saw each other again. I backspaced the title of the chapter and wrote in: Find & Scare All the Red Dragons till They Leave for Good.

Neighborhood park that night; lying down

It was night, a pitch black night with no moon. A bitterly cold, winter night, with the streets of the neighborhood completely deserted, and with the windows and the doors of the houses all firmly closed to prevent the slightest draught of air from penetrating. There I was walking through the cold, wearing a thin, almost transparent button-down, and yet I did not feel it. I was surrounded by darkness on all sides, with nowhere to go, but I was no longer afraid. Nothing in the streets was capable of scaring me any longer, and the coldest wind could no longer bite into my body. Had my body changed? Had I been transported into another boy’s body? And where had my own, my real body, gone? I started to examine the fingers of my hands. The fingers were mine, they had not changed. Long slender fingers. Riley would have said she had never seen fingers much like these before. She said they looked strong and clever. They possessed a language of their own. When she playfully kissed them they seemed to speak to her with a voice he could almost hear. I laughed and brought my fingers close up to my ears, but could hear nothing. I laughed again, and this time my laughter echoed in my ears. I was taken aback to hear my own laughter in the silent night. I looked around me cautiously, fearing that someone might hear me laughing alone, and carry me off to one of those places. At first I could see nothing, but a moment later I glimpsed a policeman approaching in the dark. He came right up to me, caught me by the arm, and said: -Where are you going? -I don’t know. -Will you come with me? -Where to? -To my house. That’s when I knew I needed to go back to the house - to pack my things and go back home or to the army. -No…. I have no trust in people anymore.

As I packed, I recalled while looking: ‘There wasn’t a creak that your smile could not explain, as though you had long known just when the floor would do that. . .  And I listened and was soothed. So powerful was your presence as you tenderly lay on the bed; your fate tall and cloaked, retreated beyond the sheets, and your restless future, delayed for awhile, adapted to the folds of the curtain on the window. And she herself, as she lay there, relieved, with the sweetness of the gentle world I had made for him dissolving beneath his drowsy eyelids, into the foretaste of sleep -: she seemed protected. . . But inside: who could ward off, who divert, the floods of origin inside her? Ah, there was no trace of caution in that sleeper; sleeping, yes but dreaming, but flushed with what fevers; how she threw himself in. All at once new, trembling, how she was caught up and entangled in the spreading tendrils of inner event, already twined into patterns, into strangling undergrowth, prowling bestial shapes. How she submitted-. Loved. Loved her interior world, her interior wilderness, that primal forrest inside of her, where among decayed tree trunks her heart stood, light-green. Loved. Left it, went through her own roots and out, into the powerful source where little birth had already been outlived. Loving, she waded down into more ancient blood, to ravines where Horror lay, still glutted with her fathers. And every Terror knew her, winked at her like an accomplice. Yes, Atrocity smiled … Seldom had she smiled so tenderly, mother, how could he help loving what smiled at her. No, we don’t accomplish our love in a single year as the flowers do; an immemorial sap flows up through our arms when we love. Dear girl, seething multitudes, not just a single child, but the dreams we live in tonight count till our ancestors.

I walked to my parent’s smoking a cigarette; even stumbled a few times.

Morning coffee

Quite some time, figuring out. I can’t seem to walk.

Are you with my diction? - pouring out …… another tactic loose at the hand.

The theme is loneliness. Float me a reason to go away.

How do you feel about celestial back-scratch? Buy a ticket and stay.

Hills, deers: you’re my dear. Surprised at the first response.

Fear, beer: let’s move along. Us, forget the taunts.

Us, at the middle of dystopia. forever and always, sappy diction and the chaotic friction.

Picture this: an always moving train to open spaces. Jump out, feel the -ily.

I got up off the floor to attend my ringing phone. It was the fine, fairness author. He said he was up in the woods pondering, and there would be a new wave coming in. The inside was livid and everywhere else was struck dumbly by fists and boots of angels or demons. Turning my back on this person; I said I simply quit. I was through. No more editing. He said I ought to send him the new due as soon as attainable. The phone must of hung itself up because all I could here was my disgusting breathe. There was blackness covering my screen; a message from satan or someone entirely up to something else. The phone would soon explode I decided so I went to a pond and threw it in without a second thought.

Therapy

Delusions and signs of whatever is coming up and through as of late. My car was a curse, and I just realized it was black - and I said this exactly. My phone: was black. My heart: something like black. The sun: a curse; take me to another part of earth. She said metaphor like a ship sailing in cool tides. The tides weren’t cooling and I wasn’t alone; not at all. Even though we are far from home, there are moments to be had. My time here, now is under a surveillance with a particular type of freedom gifted at the cost of totally cruelty in my upcoming days. It wasn't Honolulu like the lifeguards I got to ooolala with, but my own separate island. I was only granted these freedoms, like going down the slide once more like the younglings, because of my said cruelty aka exile in the permanency. I even committed crimes on the ship. I wanted to try out pretending I wasn’t doomed for death - like I wasn’t soon to starve. After a horn blew to signal the start of a meal, I rushed down to the bottom floor to the kitchen from my room in the middle floor of the ship. Everyone gathered, that I could see, wasn’t here for punishment. They were actually just kids, here for camp - or foreign exchange students learning a job. Apparently, it is time to go somewhere reckless again for the sake of nurturing risk factors in time of learned efforts to save or be saved; to learn how to be a part, partly to be apart from your pairing brain. Something like, “Let me inside.”

Church

A son of G-d, oh full of power -

The left hand side, a dark-faced mage.

For reputations and holes, seen defeated to a cower

“Let me out of the cage!”

Opposing the left must seem right

Composing tactics, lethargic and trite.

The girl in the pew,

Enters her stream and must see the blue -

Stumbling through the isle, regarding the flesh

A sweet goodnight to the man and his mesh.

Pictures of Elephants on Hills in Strange Seasons

No story, just paraphrased hilltop collections. Spiral in directions from a gust that leaves me panting from the push. Keeping up, I turn around. I seek. I open up to what charges the fiercest. What has me going? I said - the gust. If you want the gist of the gust, leave me be and climb whatever. Turn around, climb on down. Make way for speed. No story, just tears falling down my face. The context of tears? The no context but fears. No contact, just gusts of the thinnest. The weight adds more minutes to the aches. When can I scatter from the newest weight? Again and again, leave me panting - wanting more of the hill climbs for the gists. No help, not yet. There that is, theres the push. Here we go, forever and ever.

Giving up

The door bell rang. I thought it was my parent’s but it wasn’t. I rushed downstairs. I thought it was my sister but it wasn’t. I opened the door, it was the mailman leaving. The letter picked up I thought it was from her. But it was from in state. I didn’t know, but I knew I have been absent. Past life; all the bushes in the front yard were on fire.

[heartmadeofstxne]

This is the first of a series of drabbles about some of my characters called “People Fall Asleep on Lucas” 

This is Charlie

Pairing: Lucas/Charlie

Words: About 2500

Shameless fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort, (not really a sickfic but kinda)

Commences under the cut

Charlie had been sick for a handful of days, dragging himself to his classes and pushing himself through practice with a racking cough and spiking fever. It took the collective efforts of pretty much everyone in their dorm to get his ass down to the infirmary where they kept him for the end of the week. Now, his fever had broken and his cough no longer left him breathless for minutes after. The illness had left him tired and achy and taken all but the last pieces of his voice but also stir crazy.

Lucas lounged lazily on the couch, legs stretched, typing absentmindedly on his laptop. He’d never been more relieved that the coaches had given the team a fairly light, quick Friday afternoon practice. Their sick captain wasn’t the only player showing fatigue and for once Lucas couldn’t argue with cutting down on the amount of practice.

Charlie returned to the dorm leaning only a little on Mr. Donovan as they went up the hill. Upon seeing Lucas his face lit up with more energy than he’d showed nearly all week, prompting his dorm parent to give a bemused chuckle. Lucas didn’t look up from his screen and Charlie silently chewed on his lip in disappointment.   

“Luc. Look who I found.” Lucas jumped slightly at the sound of Mr.Donovan’s voice and scanned the room searching. Seeing Charlie, Lucas’ throat gave a small gasp of delight as he leaped to his feet, leaving his laptop discarded on the floor to bound across the room.

“Hey babe” Lucas punctuated his greeting by leaning over and kissing Charlie’s forehead.  Charlie beamed and opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a disapproving cluck from Mr. Donovan.

“He can stay in the dorms with us for the weekend, provided that he takes it easy and actually rests his voice and lets it recover.” Like a switch, Charlie’s smile turned into a scowl and he lifted his chin slightly in defiance. Lucas took the opportunity to run his fingertips along Charlie’s still slightly swollen neck and glands. Despite the light touch, Charlie winced and Lucas’ hand dropped instantly.

“You still look pretty rough C. I bet you’ve done a real number on your vocal chords. Come on, let’s get you back to your room so you can get some rest before everyone else gets back and hound you.” Lucas deposited Charlie into the room that he shared with Mathieu before heading to the next door over and sliding down to lean against his bed. Eyes closed he could hear what sounded like Charlie walking around and moving things in his room and Lucas groaned but couldn’t bring himself to himself to stand back up. If Charlie wanted to fucking kill himself on a Friday afternoon Lucas wasn’t going to stop him.

Lucas half surprised himself by falling asleep on the floor in the middle of the afternoon. It was a habit that he’d picked up from some combination of having Dylan for a roommate and just being a high schooler. He woke up to his already sore neck being tight and upset from leaning against the wood of the bed. With a sharp exhale, Lucas stood up, stopping for a moment to let the world spin around him. Slowly, rubbing sleep from his eyes he stumbled his way back into the common area. Charlie was on the couch, leaning against Natalie, Maddie on the ground at his feet. Dylan and Carmen seemed remarkably peaceful, sharing the loveseat and so Lucas lowered himself into a chair at the dining table.

“You look like shit” Mathieu said as way of greeting as he took the seat across from Lucas.

“It’s what happens when you take an unplanned nap in the middle of the day.” Lucas grumbled running a hand through his hair bitterly.

“It’s a good thing you’re going to be using this weekend to fucking sleep then.” Mathieu didn’t phrase it as a question and Lucas rolled his eyes.

“You say that like I don’t have 3 tests next week and a paper coming up.”

“All things you can do after you relax for a bit.”

“I don’t feel like you’re exactly one to be making that point M.”

“No one in this fucking dorm takes care of themselves so we each have to look out for each other. You spend this weekend making sure Charlie doesn’t try to get back on the ice or like sing. I’ll make sure you don’t burn yourself out studying.”

“Who looks after you?”

“Nat.” Mathieu responded without missing a beat.

“We’re freaking 16, M. Why are we so tired all the time?”

“Stacose”

“You couldn’t have said that in fucking english?”

“No. I like annoying you too much.”

“You are the worst fake-ex-boyfriend ever.”

“I know. So spend some goddamn time with your actual boyfriend you asshole. It’ll be good for both of you and your relationship to have some down time.” Lucas didn’t respond but simply got up with a new mission to find food knowing that Mathieu wouldn’t take it personally.

Mathieu must have recruited Dylan because by the time that Lucas woke up, his roommate had at some point silently snuck out of the room and disabled his alarm. With a sigh, Lucas reached for his glasses and headed out into the almost entirely empty common area. Charlie was alone at the dining table eating a plate of fruit and pancakes. When he saw Lucas approaching his pushed one over to the end of the table.

“Thanks.” Lucas taking the seat and the plate. “Everyone else has headed out I take it?” Charlie nodded. Lucas let his head fall against the hand of his right arm that he had propped up on the table and set to chewing. Charlie rapped twice on the table with his knuckle prompting Lucas to look over in concern “yeah?”

Charlie pointed at Lucas, then placed two fingers on his own temple before tipping his head questioningly. Lucas frowned around the mouthful of food he was swallowing trying to figure out the question.

“Oh” He realized “These” he chuckled and ran a finger along the edge of the frame of his glasses “No I don’t have a headache right now. I just have a feeling it’s just going to be one of those days. Weekend probably. Lots of homework and studying to do.”

Charlie motioned at himself and then at his room and held his hands far apart in front of his own face. He had missed two and a half days of classes while being on bedrest and it wasn’t like the classes he had attended at the beginning of the week had gotten his full attention either. “You’re sick, you were sick. Surely your teachers understand that. You still look like you got hit by a fucking bus. They’re not making you do all of the work are they?”

Charlie shrugged, hesitated and then held out his left hand, palm down and shook it side to side. “I’m sorry C. Sometimes high school just fucking sucks.”

Charlie lowered his gaze to his plate and put his focus on pushing some berries around, no gestured response. It was hard for Lucas to see him struggle to communicate. For a much as Charlie was shy, quiet and withdrawn, for as much as he looked to other people to literally speak for him. It seemed that Lucas had somewhat forgotten how chatty and lively his boyfriend could be. Now he was reduced to fucking miming whatever he was feeling.  They ate the rest of their food in silence.

Lucas thought about what Mathieu had said, he really did. But what Mathieu hadn’t seemed to consider was that he was a natural test taker, while Lucas was more like a normal human being and was not. Anyway it wasn’t like Charlie seemed to want to hang out and have quality boyfriend bonding time either. “I’m going to go do math homework in my room. Uh, knock some shit over if you need anything.”

In his room Lucas dug his math textbook and flipped it open his desk. He worked on the assigned problems, solving triangles by dragging his hand across his notebook. It took so much of his mental energy to remain at least semi focused that he didn’t notice the door behind him open. He only noticed when Charlie wrapped his arms around him from behind. He would have complained but it felt surprisingly nice to have a weight draped over his back, warmth shared between him and someone else. Charlie leaned in close so that his breath was on Lucas’ neck. “Hey babe” Lucas put down his pencil and used his left hand to reach for Charlie’s. Charlie squeezed back with the left while his right hand reached over to grab one of the pencils loose on Lucas’ desk. Pushing himself into his toes so that he could reach all the way over Lucas, Charlie wrote a couple numbers on the paper and almost instantly simplified and solved the equations Lucas had been blankly staring at.  

Lucas turned his chair around, and detangled himself from Charlie’s arms so that they were facing each other. “You know that I love your math brain and your freakish calculator abilities. But maybe we should save the tutoring for when you can, you know actually talk.”

Charlie pulled away and crossed his arms protectively over his chest.  He shrugged and then nodded but made no move to leave Lucas’ room.

“Don’t you have work to be doing?” Lucas wasn’t sure he could focus with his boyfriend looking so pathetic behind him “Go back to your room C.”

Lucas expected another scowl, like he’d given when Mr.Donovan had reminded him not to talk. He hadn’t expected his 17 year old boyfriend to fucking pout at him. But that’s exactly what Charlie was doing, eyes wide, bottom lip stuck out and Lucas didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. He reached out with a gentle hand and laid on Charlie’s left check. “Charlie’s you’re older than me. You really think you can pout and get me to do whatever you want?” Charlie’s expression didn’t change. Lucas’ leg jiggled uneasily against the base of his chair “For fuck’s sake Charlie. Fine. Go to your room, let me finish this up and then I’ll come sit with you or something. I promise. Go.” Satisfied, Charlie dropped his arms, smiled and left the room. Lucas scoffed and rolled his way back to the desk but he couldn’t stop from smiling fondly.

Somehow, Lucas found it easier to focus on his homework and worked on the next set of problems with a renewed energy. He was disrupted by the sound of might be moving boxes, a small crash and then a violent coughing fit. Lucas’ pencil fell to the floor as he leaped to his feet.

“Charlie?” He burst into the other room to find Charlie standing in the middle, holding the guitar that normally hung above his dresser. “Fuck, Charlie. I thought, I thought…nevermind.” Lucas rubbed his forehead and bent down to pick up some of the boxes of Mathieu’s spare parts that had fallen. He had noticed that someone, presumably Natalie or Mathieu had taken the pair of Charlie’s skates and the stick from the entryway of the dorm but he hadn’t put it past Charlie to try and dig out old hockey equipment and try and sneak out. Charlie only gave a sheepish shrug in response. “Come on, I assume you don’t want to be in this room alone much longer” Lucas took Charlie’s arm and pulled him into the common area. Mr.Donovan had emerged from his office at the sounds and Charlie gave him a thumbs up while Lucas rolled his eyes. “I got him. Don’t worry.”

Charlie sat on the couch and strummed happily on his guitar while Lucas picked up a notepad that he must have previously left out and a pen and sat down next to him. The two sat without conversation for quite some time until Charlie started to fade, letting his arms fall and the music stop. Lucas glanced up from his notes “You’re still tired huh?” Charlie couldn’t deny it and shrugged, Lucas took the instrument from him and with great care laid it on the coffee table in front of them.

“Come here” He motioned Charlie over closer to him and flipped on the television where the last 10 minutes of a hockey game were playing. When a one goal lead was blown with 4 minutes left , Lucas gave a triumphant cry while Charlie gave more of a squeak and and then doubled over coughing. “Fuck, fuck. Sorry, sorry. That was my bad. Not one of my greatest plans, that was kinda the inevitable outcome.” Charlie straightened up shaking his head and massaging his throat.

Not your fault He mouthed and Lucas sighed

“Kind of my fault.” Mr.Donovan reappeared with a glass of water and bag of cough drops, both of which Charlie  took graciously.

Lucas curled up on the couch, hugging the notebook to his chest. To his surprise, once Charlie was done drinking and swallowing he leaned against him. He let Charlie stay there for a couple of minutes before glancing around the room and coming up with an idea. He tried to pull his legs out from under Charlie without disturbing him but received a sound of indignation. “I’ll be back. Don’t worry.” He returned to his room with quick strides and scanned his bookshelf until he found what he was looking for.

Charlie was sitting up waiting for his human to return and so Lucas didn’t have to wiggle his way back under the other. “Have you read this?” He asked holding out the beautiful black hardcover book with golden edges to the pages. Charlie shook his head after a glance. “Good. It’s been awhile since I’ve read it but from what I remember you should really enjoy it.”

So Lucas began to read, he’d never been one to read outloud much but Charlie was a great audience of one. At first he fought to keep his eyes open, looking up at his boyfriend with focus and admiration. Lucas however, ran his hand through Charlie’s hair, down his face and neck before resting on his heart. “Don’t worry about it” he whispered “Close your eyes, go to sleep. I’ll read it again with you when you’re feeling better. I just thought you could use something to fill the silence.”

Charlie smiled almost tearfully up at Lucas from where he laid in his lap and Lucas smiled back. He was amazed with how much he felt just sitting there as well. Maybe Mathieu could be right this one time.

#my writing #oc writing #character: charlie #character: lucas #mentioned: mathieu #parts not 100% related #not very good