warnings: senior year nostalgia, oblivious pining, excessively soft bromance
“Okay,” Lardo said, taking another swig from the bottle of gin they’d been passing around. “Worst class you’ve ever taken?”
The noise of another kegster, not their last together but frighteningly close to it, thrummed through the floor of the attic. Sometime after midnight Nursey and Chowder had started trying to go through various Haus rules, proper kegstand procedure and ratios for tub juice, with the Tadpoles like Holster and Ransom had done for the past two years, and Ransom had found himself hit with senior-year nostalgia again. It was the kind of weird, happy-sad ache that pulled from under his ribs and made him want to hold onto everything tighter.
He was going to graduate in May. He’d been accepted to med programs at Emory and UPenn, and he was waiting to hear back from a couple other schools. His future wasn’t some nebulous concept any more; it felt real. It felt too close. It was so much easier just to melt back against his bed, next to his two best friends, and to soak up the way their words seemed to roll around the room and fill it up completely.
Holster snorted and leaned against Ransom, reaching around him for the bottle but not moving away once he had it. “International Finance Theory with Professor Lawrence.”
She’s barely three weeks old when, in the middle of the night with her little lungs wearing out from all of the screaming and tears, Killian makes the decision to bring her out to the Jolly.
Emma, just as tired and fed up with the hours of trial and error, agrees to go, grabbing everything she can think she might need out on the ship before she slips into her shoes and cradles the baby against her chest, trying fruitlessly to stop her cries.
“She’ll be alright,” Killian assures her. “If she’s anything like her father, the sea will calm her.”
“but you don’t look autistic”
i know, it’s shocking
i’m sure you were expecting scaly green skin
or another pair of eyes hidden beneath my bangs
but take a look
two legs, two arms, on pair of eyes
i look just like you
i look like a human
because that’s what i am
autism does not have a costume
our wardrobe isn’t embroidered with puzzle pieces and the color blue
like everyone else on this earth
people with autism are all different
our experiences are not stagnate across the globe
and just because i can disguise my stims
doesn’t mean i am more or less autistic than someone who cannot
and believe it or not
saying that is not a compliment
autistic people can have jobs
we can be loved by someone other than our family members
we can drive
and go shopping
not all of us are nonverbal
and while most of us cannot handle the horrors of eye contact
and certain stimuli
we’re all different
try not to act so surprised when we’re able to appear just as neurotypical as you
“oh, so you’re like Rain Man?”
if this is your way of implying that you can drop a bunch of toothpicks on the ground and then ask me how many there are
kindly fuck off
“autism is a disease and i’m sure they’ll find a cure for you”
we are not sick
we are not suffering
illnesses are contagious
you can’t catch autism
it isn’t going to spread if you get too close to me
this isn’t rocket science
it isn’t that hard to understand
you either have autism
or you never will
and more importantly
there is nothing about us that needs to be cured
instead of listening to a fear mongering
harmful group that markets itself on our existence and feels the need to “fix” autistic people
why not just listen to autistic people instead?
Five Myths / Things You Should Know About People with Autism (cc, 2017)
It was most unusual for anything to disturb Kisuke’s
slumber, because once asleep, he slept like the dead. Yoruichi, by contrast,
was known to be a night owl and an early riser. More often than not, he’d found
himself awakened in the morning by a cold, wet cat-nosing, or in the middle of the night by
a warm, wet kiss. But something – or someone – else had awakened him tonight, something he couldn’t yet quite
Moonlight streamed in through the window of the upper room, washing the floor
and bedsheets with a pale, ghostly glow, creeping across the contours of Yoruichi’s
side, as she lay with her back to him. The first trimester of pregnancy was
taking its toll; she was more tired during the day, more prone to sleeping
soundly at night. And he suspected that
having to refrain from transforming to cat form was taking an awful toll on her
napping pattern. So he was rewarded with a rare treat: the sight of a sleeping,
He’d always thought she was beautiful. That was a given. He
couldn’t recall a time when he’d thought otherwise, even as a boy. Her golden
eyes, striking against her dark skin; her lustrous black hair… even when she’d
cropped it short, it still crowned her head luxuriously. He was glad she’d
grown it long again. His hand couldn’t resist reaching out and twining it
around his fingers, letting the strands slip through them like silk. Her skin,
too, gleamed in the moonlight, sleek and smooth like satin, and he was strongly tempted
to wake her with a caress, if only he didn’t believe, just as strongly, that her rest
was more important. Well then… he’d simply have to avoid waking her, as he stealthily moved closer to drape a warm, possessively affectionate arm around her waist, burying his nose and lips in her hair, pulling her close against his chest, and resting his palm just below her navel.
And then he felt it again, the tingling presence that had
awoken him. With a growing, comprehending smile, at last he knew what it was he
was sensing: a faint, yet undeniable, scattering of crimson reiatsu so similar to his own that he might have
mistaken it for Benihime; yet somehow… other.
It did not emanate from within himself. It was coming from her.
And in that moment, she became more beautiful to him than he
thought was possible, because of what grew within her: a manifestation of their
whole lives, their whole love, compressed into one tiny point, vibrant and pulsing
Justin is a junior in high school. He knows exactly three things about his soulmate. One, she’s around his age. Two, she’s definitely American. Three, she has a thing for musical theater.
Ever since puberty. Everybody stares at me. Boys, girls. I can’t help it baby.
Justin, or Ranser as his hockey team knew him, sighs. He’s knee-deep in a practice SAT test. He knows his soulmate is American, so that’s where he’s planning to go for university. Even if they don’t end up at the same school, it’ll be exponentially easier to find her if they don’t have an international border between them.
So be kind. And don’t lose your mind. Just remember. That I’m your baby.
“Allow me to kiss your hand, be your man,” Ranser interrupts. “You know, I’ll understand…You see where I’m from, WC, I’m from Nigeria,” he murmurs. “Omo, you know say na criteria.”
Justin doesn’t know what skipping ahead in a song does to the music inside his soulmate’s mind. But he’s not one for singing,really. He finds the songs that suit his message and sticks lyric-less songs otherwise. Many reactionary music genres nowadays were mainly instrumental to resist the idea of finding soulmates through consumerism. It’s not that he didn’t care about his soulmate. But it’s one less thing to worry about if he has separate music for communicating with her and for enjoying for himself. Afrobeat has been particularly effective in balancing out her more…exuberant tunes.
He can’t fault her for her love of Lady Gaga, but priorities take precedent over fun time. As if she understands his protests, the music dies down. Justin takes a deep breath, resuming his test. He can only hope she doesn’t do this during the real exam time. Although most administrators were understanding, it was a three strikes policy for singing during an exam.
If there’s one thing Justin’s learned about his soulmate, it’s that she sung everything she felt.
“What if I got a double major in music and economics?” Adam, or Birker, asks his teammate, Hobbs, one movie night his last year in Juniors.
Hobbs eyes him incredulously. “Why?”
Adam shrugs, “my soulmate listens to a lot of cool music.”
“So? Fucking congrats,” he snarks.
“No man, it’s like,” Adam gestures with two hands at the space in front of the coffee table. “Most of the stuff they like isn’t pop and doesn’t even have lyrics. Which fucking sucked when we were younger, right?”
“Sure,” he concedes.
“I learned how to play the piano and some other instruments so I could figure out what songs they were — and now I have all this musical knowledge that I won’t be able to use ever again.”
“Because…” Hobbs prompts.
“Because when I find them, what the fuck do I need to know this shit for anymore? If they like something, they can just show it to me.”
Hobbs rolls his eyes, “be a music major. Become a fucking teacher why don’t you?”
“You think I could handle that?” Adam inquires seriously.
“I think your other option is to get famous writing music, and fat chance of that ever happening,” Hobbs chirps.
“Thanks, you’re helpful,” Birker rolls his eyes dramatically.
“I don’t get why you’re going to college anyway,” Hobbs jabs him in the ribs.
“I’m not doing the draft, bro,” Adam reminds him curtly.
“Oh c’mon,” Hobbs eggs him on, “what’s the worst that could happen?”
“I miss my chance to meet my soulmate in college, I spend four years in fucking Syracuse before I get called up. I retire at 32 if I’m lucky with no degree or skills.”
“Except music,” Hobbs chirps.
“Except music,” Adam parrots.
Brownie comes back with a bowl full of popcorn and a bag of Twizzlers. “What’d I miss?”
“Birker’s whinning about his soulmate again,” Hobbs replies.
“What else is new,” Calvin shouts from the kitchen.
“Can we start the fucking show already?” Adam shouts back.
“Yeah,” Calvin comes running in, hopping onto the first body he sees (Adam).
Adam frowns when Calvin won’t get off his lap. “I really hate you sometimes.”
“Taking your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got.
Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot,” the four boys chorus.
“Man, I hope for your sake she’s funny,” Brownie tells Birker.
Adam laughs hollowly. He’s very convinced that his soulmate’s a dude. Which is fine, Adam’s as bi as the day is long. The way Calvin looks back at him pointedly, reinforces his suspicions that he’s not the only queer guy on the team.
Which is exactly why he’s going to Samwell. It was one of the queerest schools in the country. He had no assurance that his soulmate will find him there. But at the very least, he can have four years away from the quite chaos of hockey. The NHL was still ignoring the fact that a good third (or more) of their players weren’t straight. The press was constantly writing soulmates off as “platonic”, and Adam was not about to put up with that any time soon. He wanted to go to school, do something he loves, and fall in love. Why was that too much to ask for?
hey wow would you look at that i actually finished the fic i’ve been talking about writing for like a week. not my best work ever, probably, but i’m fairly happy with it.
i made that long-ass post about my autistic!logan headcanon a while back and i wanted to do something more with it, so, uh, this is it, i guess? warnings: sensory overload, internalized ableism (aka me projecting all my issues onto logan sorry buddy), anxiety (the feeling not the character).
also, i want to emphasize this, autism is a very diverse spectrum. not everyone with autism experiences it in the same way. this fic is based off of my personal experience. do not assume that all autistic people are like this.
I’ve found a way to try and eat without feeling sick: valium.
I can’t study because I don’t want to study, I just don’t care and do everything last minute. I have a thesis deadline on Monday and a whole presentation to research and write for next week. Applying for the conference in Iceland was a huge mistake, I want to back out now but I can’t and I really don’t want to go.
I feel guilty because my friend is always texting me, and coming here and hugging and it just makes me feel annoyed because I can’t deal with people lately. Also my flatmate is studying from morning to night and she’s always talking about how she has things to read and write and that irritates me as well. Nice friend I am.
I spent the morning at the Russian visa centre because I forgot a fucking document and I had to go back to my place to pick it up and then back to the city centre. I am now exhausted.
I need my cats so badly.
I was supposed to write my therapist last week but I just don’t want to do it,, it’s always the same conversation after all.
Happy Victor is the only light of my days. I just spend ¾ of my time reading fics even if even reading fic makes me anxious.
I don’t know how much use it will be but they need to know that they’re giving money to people who at this point purposefully shit on a certain portion of their audience in the cruelest fashion imaginable. So I feel like it’s reasonable to let them know that what Mofftiss just did on Sherlock is not ok.
You’ll have to answer a couple of questions before you can write your complaint and unfortunately that has a word limit so make it precise and to the point but I guess it’s better than nothing?
ANDREW ACCIDENTALLY CALLING NEIL CUTE IN FRONT OF THE FOXES P L E A S E
IT IS OFFICIALLY MY SEMESTER BREAK!!!!!! ajfhdajkhfdajh this is the best prompt EVER let me have this self-indulgent headcanon
the foxes, because they like a.) challenges and b.) making money out of these challenges, get the idea to play Andreil Trope Bingo
nicky starts it, purely out of boredom, as well as out of the desire to spite kevin for being too exy-focused even if the season’s over
he creates a card with things like “andrew buying food for neil” “neil smiling behind andrew’s back” “one talking about the other when the other is not there” “andrew hurting someone for neil” “rooftop date” “andreil going late to practice together”
after the whole team making edits to the bingo card, a copy is given to everyone
word gets around, but as andrew and neil are two of the most oblivious people in the world, they don’t catch wind of it
eventually, everybody (including wymack and bee) gets in on it, because the pot rises to be two grand (can you guys believe? two fucking grand for a couple’s trope bingo)
they make it a race of sorts - as andrew and neil aren’t normally affectionate in public (neil being the more touchy of the two, but still severely lacking in comparison to the stereotype of Normal Couples), they all have to be there at certain times of the day
dan clearly established the “no fishing rule” at the start but some of them can’t help themselves - they’re just really lucky sometimes
renee is the first to check “andrew wearing one of neil’s shirts” after she notices at their weekly sparring session
aaron (unluckily enough) gets the first shot at “andreil making out by the lockers” after his shift to tidy up the court
nicky is first witness at “one being lowkey possessive over the other” when he catches a glimpse of andrew frowning down someone at the bar for checking out neil
at the end of it all, they’re all left with one box blank
“andrew calling neil cute”
and everybody is just ??????
because andrew would never do that. not in a million years
only neil seems like the type to do so - but even neil hasn’t said anything of the sort
everybody’s panicking because they’re all so close yet so far away
fast forward; it’s been a little over a month since everyone’s only got that last box blank, and they’ve all been fishing
matt has asked, on multiple occasions, what andrew thought of neil when he smiled
allison has pointed out how good neil looked when she gave him her last haircut
bee even got ahold of neil’s baby pictures and showed them to andrew on a visit of his
wymack, at some point, tried asking if “cute” was really the specific word they all needed to hear (”What if he says ‘adorable’? You know Minyard gets all wordy at some point.”)
they all flail around for another week until thefoxes’ weekly movie night
it happens on a thursday at neil and andrew’s room, because it was their turn
everyone is seated around the television, either on armchairs, the sofa, or on beanbags
neil coughs and pounds his chest
andrew gets up from the sofa so fast and gets neil a glass of water
upon getting the glass, neil goes “Ah.That was just a test. Thanks for putting in the effort.”
neil is smirking and all, thinking he’s so clever, the cheeky bastard
and no one is prepared for andrew’s “Mmm. That’s cute. Move over.”
everybody is suddenly scrambling for their cards in their pockets
IT’S LIFE OR DEATH AT THIS POINT, PEOPLE
THAT LAST BOX IS ALL THAT M A T T E R S
nicky is like “Shit shit shit shit shit shit–”
kevin frustratingly goes “Where the fuck is my pen–”
bee is like “That’s unfair, I didn’t bring my card!”
it’s dan-the-legend-wilds that gets to cross out the box first and she yells (half-drunkenly) “BingobingobingobingoBINGO MOTHERFUCKERS!!”
matt’s like “Babe we’re going halfsies on that right–” while allison yells “THAT”S GOING INTO OUR NAIL POLISH FUND!”
wymack is in the moment and is like “Dan, you’re sharing with me, or you’re out of the fucking team.”
renee is groaning and shaking her head while aaron is just shrugging and texting katelyn he lost
in the midst of the chaos and debating-who-got-it-first is andrew and neil, clueless as fuck, staring at them all and at one another
neil is blinking in confusion while andrew is stony-faced
they go out of the room and leave the madness that is the foxes coming up with another bet and searching for money in their wallets
Cas shrunk back from walking into the library at the sound
voice – for very good reasons.
He heard the unconvinced noise Mary made as she shrugged before replying.
“It broke the spell and saved the town – it’s not hard to
believe they’d do it… For the greater good.”
Sam still sounded agitated although Cas agreed with Mary –
and he should know better than them about it. “No, Mom, we were all in the room.
All the ritual asked for was a kiss… I mean what if all we needed to do was
something like me giving you a peck on the cheek? It was a vaguely phrased
“I suppose so…”
Sam had gone into full ranting mode – “And – even if it had to be a kiss on the mouth – Cas could
have kissed any of us. There were options. He could have kissed you, or, well,
he was standing right next to me when Dean read the thing out, and a lot of
people were going to die really soon. I’d take one for the team.”