#I need to drink water now the anxiety of getting heatstroke is getting to me

[fever-project]

I took a first aid class today and geminiskulleta and I have this hc that ravio has a really high like. Cold resistance but fucking dies whenever it’s like. Mildly like warm outside

SO NATURALLY I THOUGHT HEY. WHAT IF WE GAVE RAVIO A HEAT STROKE IN THE MIDDLE IF THE BATTLE FIELD AND THERES ONLY

Wars

Tetra

Yuga

Mask and wind

Impa

WITH HIM

WHAT WOULD HAPPEN

Lamo, yeah I can definitely see him getting heatstroke-especially since that robe he wears is not making him any colder.

I don’t know much about heatstroke, but I have briefly looked it up 👍 heat exhaustion comes beforehand, with dizziness, exhaustion, nausea, etc. Things escalate with heatstroke, with the symptoms getting much worse and there being a high chance of death. That’s the extremely simplified explanation.

So I pictured that Ravio was already showing signs of heat exhaustion before the battle. He had a canteen on him, and emptied the whole thing before the battle started. I image that they are all fighting against Yuga. Who would immediately call out how sweaty and pathetic Ravio looks. He would point and laugh. Then the fight would start while Ravio is actively trying to not die from the heat.

Then midway through the battle, Ravio just collapses on his own, a bit aways from the actual battle. Yuga points and laughs while Tetra and Wars rush over to him, with Impa doing her best to cover them while the others continue to fight.

Ravio robe? Get that off, he has clothes underneath, it’s fine. They drag him to the area with the most shade, with them also desperately trying to get Ravio to drink their coldish water in a panic. He’s barely conscious, staying awake from sheer will alone.

It takes the group a bit to remember that Wind has ice arrows that be never uses during to war lol. They use those to help cool Ravio off while Mask beats the life out of Yuga with his Fierce Deity powers.

The children are panicking ngl, they don’t really know how to deal with this. Impa and Wars are laser-focused on making sure that Ravio doesn’t die on the spot. He gets better but it was a very stressful time for everyone involved. Except for Ravio who was barely conscious. He is very damp(he got spritz-spritz with a bunch of water)by the time they get back to camp. Still barely conscious but is holding on.

Anyways Ravio is no longer able to wear his robe from this point forward. Unless they are somewhere cold, otherwise no robe. Tetra makes ice bullets for gun specifically so she can shoot at Ravio whenever he tries to put on his robe at the wrong time. Also I just remembered she has water bullets in the game lol she definitely uses those as well, especially while they were going back to camp. Water guns are great for summer weather 🔫

Oh and uh, Yuga survived the smack down from Maks and now has plans against Ravio-and, in turn, the other time crew members-now. He just needs to convince Volga to help him out.

[ultimatetrashyfanfic]

I’m just gonna say Non-despair AU cause I want everyone to be happy. I freaking LOVE Gundham so much, he’s wonderful and I’ve been wanting to write him for a while (but stalling cause of his DIALOGUE. It’s so hard). Buuuut I decided to finally give it a shot. And to kind of vent a little cause he used to stress me out in his dark coat and scarf in tropical heat. With Kazuichi because I want them to be friends, and because I seem physically incapable of not putting Kazuichi in every fic. COULD be seen as pre-soudam if you prefer, I didn’t write it like that but it could be if that floats your boat. I do like that ship, I just like other ones with Gundham and kazuichi more. Anyway, hope you enjoy - Circle

Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33543364

Warning: descriptions of overheating, sickfic. Nothing really bad here.

Kazuichi wasn’t shocked to wake up sprawled across a towel with sand in his hair and a dry mouth, completely alone on the beach. This wasn’t even the first time it had happened. When his insomnia was really bad he’d always doze throughout the next day - for some reason he couldn’t sleep in his warm, comfortable bed at night but could drop off in seconds with his head on the breakfast table or against Hajime’s shoulder. His classmates never bothered to wake Kazuichi if he was somewhere he wouldn’t be in the way, so the beach was a frequent napping spot. They always made sure to leave him in the shade with a water bottle for when he woke, so Kazuichi didn’t mind. It was normal.

What was very much not normal was waking up to Gundham grasping the front of his t-shirt, shaking him violently and yelling some weird gibberish that Kazuichi was still too woolly-headed to understand.

“Wha..?” he muttered, trying to wake up properly. For a second he wondered if he was having a weird lucid dream, because Gundham never usually touched people, especially him - though he was shaking him by the shirt instead of the shoulders.

“You’re gonna stretch out my clothes,” Kazuichi whined, sitting up and scrubbing his eyes.

“As if your tattered garments are a priority right now! Answer me with honesty, lest the demons tear your tongue from your very mouth. Have you encountered the wrath of my Crimson Steel Elephant?” Gundham cried, far too loudly.

“What?” Kazuichi mumbled. “Gundham, I can’t decipher your witchy language when I’ve just woken up.”

“Foolish mortal! This is a dire emergency!”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“I shall repeat myself just once more, so listen well. Have you encountered one of my Dark Devas of Destruction? Maga-Z appears to be missing,” Gundham said. Despite the grandeur and fancy words, Kazuichi could see he did look pretty distressed, holding the three remaining hamsters in his hand as if he was scared they’d dash away too.

“Oooh, okay. You’ve lost a hamster. That’s all you had to say, Gundham. One single sentence and I would’ve understood,” Kazuichi said.

“Do not talk so disparagingly! My Devas are far more powerful than mere hamsters. And Maga-Z has an independent spirit and often attempts to cause chaos alone. I have my concerns for the safety of everyone on this island if Maga-Z wields his destructive power without my guidance.”

Gundham was completely serious, but Kazuichi had to bite his cheeks to stop himself laughing, picturing a hamster storming across the island in a tank, decimating everything. But Gundham was clearly frantic, and Kazuichi was trying to be nicer to him recently, so he sighed.

“Okay, I’ll help you look for him. We should try to get the others to help too.”

“Indeed. You were the first mortal I came across,” Gundham admitted.

“Right, what does Maga-Z look like?” Kazuichi asked, taking a long drink of water. He felt like he’d be running around in the hot sun for a while now and wanted to drink while he had the chance.

“Your memory is abysmal.” Gundham seemed irritated that Kazuichi didn’t know the hamsters by sight.

“Look, I’m not exactly on nodding terms with your ham- Devas, am I? How am I supposed to know which is which? I only recognise the chubby one.” Kazuichi pointed to Cham-P.

Gundham reeled back like he’d been slapped, spluttering in outrage. “How dare you mock his corporeal form! If Cham-P was not so patient, he would obliterate you where you stand for such cheek.”

“Look, I wasn’t trying to body shame your hamster,” Kazuichi said irritably. “I wasn’t mocking. He’s just bigger than the other ones.”

“He is of the Golden variety, of course he is larger in stature. It has nothing to do with his nutritional intake.”

“Are we going to search or not?” Kazuichi snapped. God, talking to Gundham for more than five minutes was exhausting. “Do you know if Maga-Z has favourite places to go or something?”

Kazuichi let Gundham lead and did his very best not to talk to his strange companion as they searched through bushes and inside cupboards, asking any of his classmates they encountered to look too. Gundham muttered to the remaining hamsters, but didn’t try to talk to Kazuichi much either except to order him around - though his grandiose tone was quickly becoming softer and more anxious.

“Maga-Z has never disappeared from my influence for so long,” he mumbled, pulling his scarf to cover his mouth. “I cannot contain this feeling of dread.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Kazuichi said, surprising himself. “We’ll find him. He’ll be okay.”

Gundham blinked, then stood up straighter. “I assure you, I fear for the inhabitants of the island. Maga-Z will come to no harm.”

But he was worrying, and even Kazuichi could see it. His searching was becoming frantic, his usually careful hands clumsy, so he knocked things off their shelves and forgot to tidy up or close doors behind them. He started running between buildings and bushes, long coat billowing, calling out for his lost hamster.

“Gundham! Hang on a second,” Kazuichi gasped. “I can’t breathe!”

Surprisingly, Gundham did as he was told, leaning against a palm tree in the shade. He wrapped his arms around his chest, pale fists gripping his dark coat. His carefully styled hair was starting to droop in the heat, and his face was very pink. Kazuichi had never seen so much colour in his cheeks before. The three remaining hamsters cowered inside Gundham’s scarf, sensing his anxiety.

Kazuichi went to lean beside him, wiping the sweat off his own forehead. He didn’t know how Gundham managed in his black clothes every day.

“We’ll find him,” Kazuichi said again. “Ibuki and Twogami and Mahiru said they’d look. And Miss Sonia looked like she was going to cry when I told her Maga-Z was missing. She said she wouldn’t rest until he was found.”

“She has a good heart,” Gundham said softly.

“Yeah…” Kazuichi paused. “Hey, you didn’t say anything nice like that about me. I’m the one who’s been running around with you in the baking sun for hours.”

Gundham didn’t respond. He’d been talking a lot less in the past twenty minutes or so, though he’d originally been giving incomprehensible orders to Kazuichi every two minutes. Souda assumed he was just growing more concerned for Maga-Z the longer he was missing - so he was caught off guard when Gundham slumped over and fell limply against him, almost bringing them both to the floor.

“Dude!” Kazuichi managed to catch hold of Gundham. “What are you doing?”

Perhaps Gundham didn’t know what he was doing either, because he had a look of sheer bafflement on his face. He tried to pull himself upright, clinging to the rough bark of the palm tree, but each time he wobbled dangerously and Kazuichi had to grab onto him again.

“What is this..? I appear to be reacting negatively to your mortal world’s atmosphere.” His usually forceful speech came out laboured and slow, and Gundham placed a hand to his lips in surprise.

“What? You’ve been surviving in this atmosphere for ages already,” Kazuichi argued. “What’s up with you? You sound drunk. Can you tell me in plain English?”

“The temperature in this godforsaken land exceeds even the fiery bowels of hell,” Gundham hissed, having to cling to Kazuichi to stay upright.

Kazuichi took a second to disentangle Gundham’s web of fancy words. “Sooo… you’re too hot. I guess that makes sense. Who wears a black coat and a scarf in this heat? And I know you haven’t had any water since we started searching. I’d better take you back to your cabin,” he sighed.

“Unhand me this instant, you fiend!” Gundham growled, though he was the one using Kazuichi like a walking stick. “I could never rest while one of my Dark Devas of Destruction is unguided.”

“Well they’ll all be unguided if you get heatstroke and drop dead,” Kazuichi said. “Half the island is searching for Maga-Z - and I’ll go back out to keep looking as soon as I can, okay?” As much as Gundham might get on Kazuichi’s nerves sometimes, he didn’t want him to get really sick or hurt. He hoped Maga-Z had enough sense not to wander into the sea or something; Gundham would be crushed.

“Hmm.” Gundham didn’t look convinced.

“Your other three ham- I mean Devas probably need to cool down a bit too,” Kazuichi tried.

Another pause. “Very well,” Gundham sighed. “I shall retire to my artificially cooled domain until the effects of this oppressive atmosphere wear off. I trust you to ensure the search continues.” He turned on his heel and tried to walk on his own, staggering alarmingly.

“Hey, careful!” Kazuichi ran to steady him. “I told you I’d help you.”

Gundham slapped his hands away. “Fool! Have you forgotten I am cursed with poison?”

“Oh for God’s sake! Could you just give an inch for once! Why do you make everything so difficult?” Kazuichi cried exasperatedly.

Gundham stuck his chin in the air and started berating Souda again - but before he’d even finished the first sentence his words died away. He blinked several times, looking dazed, swaying where he stood.

“Gundham..?” Kazuichi said nervously.

Gundham didn’t respond. He took another few staggering steps towards his cabin, then crumpled as his knees gave way under him. Kazuichi cried out and hurried to catch him, their foreheads bashing together painfully. Gundham’s skin was clammy and damp, his face looking much more… alive than usual. Kazuichi realised it was because his pale makeup was running.

“Fucking hell, Gundham,” Kazuichi groaned, hauling one of Gundham’s arms around his shoulders. “Just hold onto me, okay? Try not to pass out.”

Surprisingly, Gundham nodded, staring down at his feet like it was taking a huge effort to make them move. It was clear he was trying to be helpful, but Kazuichi had to carry a lot of his weight and they were both breathless by the time they reached Gundham’s cabin. Kazuichi breathed a sigh of relief as the wall of cool air conditioning washed over them.

“Thank God for that,” he mumbled, dumping Gundham onto the bed. It was carefully made, which Kazuichi had never understood; why bother making your bed when you were just going to mess it up every night? The entire room was neat, though the giant cage meant it rather smelled like hamsters. “Right, get your coat and scarf off.”

Gundham glared at him viciously.

“Oh, that’s the thanks I get, is it? Well, no matter how annoying you might be, you’re overheated. No wonder, wearing that stupid dark coat. So get it off.” Kazuichi grabbed Gundham’s arms and yanked the coat sleeves off like he was undressing a sulky toddler. Gundham hissed a series of furious curses at him - one of which sounded like Latin, which was actually pretty impressive - and the three remaining hamsters hopped out onto the bed, startled.

“There. Was that so hard?” Kazuichi said silkily when Gundham was lying on the bed in his shirt and scarf, glaring. Kazuichi tried to take the scarf off too, but Gundham’s hissed threats became more vehement and he gave up. “Fine, keep it on then. Though I don’t think the gothic look is very sustainable in a tropical climate, man. Right, I’m going to get you something to drink.”

Gundham didn’t respond until Kazuichi had returned with a cup full of water from the bathroom. “I shall take advice from one with such abysmal fashion sense as yourself with a grain of salt, fiend,” he said, with as much dignity as he could muster while tomato-red and damp with sweat on his bed.

Kazuichi had to fight very hard not to pour the glass of water directly over Gundham’s head, but he just about managed to help him drink it instead. Then he grabbed the little fan from the bathroom and placed it by Gundham’s bed, dampened a cloth and slapped it rather unceremoniously on his forehead. Gundham yelped and glared again, water trickling down his temples. Good. Serves him right for that earlier comment. “There. Keep your head back or you’ll smudge your eyeliner. And don’t move. I’ll try to find Mikan while I’m looking for Maga-Z, okay?”

Gundham turned his face away, cupping one hand over the Devas protectively. He mumbled something into the material of his scarf.

“What?” Kazuichi asked.

“I said I am grateful for your assistance…”

“Oh.” Kazuichi was surprised. He’d never heard Gundham acknowledge he needed any help before - though maybe that was Kazuichi’s own fault. He’d been the one to start up the whole stupid rivalry thing (which wasn’t ever a rivalry in the first place since the girl wasn’t remotely interested). Maybe this was a step towards a reconciliation.

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna leave you to die,” Kazuichi added awkwardly.

“You are far more tolerable when you do not echo the Dark Queen like a parrot. I once believed you had no real mind of your own,” Gundham said bluntly.

Kazuichi flushed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You made yourself an extension of the Dark Queen. You never disputed her or challenged her. You agreed with her every word.”

“Well… I wanted her to like me,” Kazuichi mumbled. “Look, you don’t need to lecture me about all this. You know I’ve left Sonia alone.”

“Indeed. But you still wish to befriend her?” Gundham asked. Even weak and overheated as he was, his eyes were burning into Kazuichi’s with such a fierce intensity he had to look away.

“That’s her choice. Why are you asking all this?”

“If you still seek a friendly companionship with the Dark Queen, you should not forget she is a mere powerless mortal,” Gundham said. “She does not wish to be treated like she is extraordinary. She does not wish to be around those who only agree to please her.”

Kazuichi stared at him. Was Gundham really offering advice? Was this a weird way to repay him for helping out? It was pretty embarrassing to be given advice on how to make friends from Gundham, who openly distrusted everyone - but he was friends with Sonia. Maybe even something more, Kazuichi honestly didn’t know. He’d tried to stay away from Sonia as much as possibly, partly because he wanted her to be more comfortable and partly because he was pretty fucking embarrassed by his past behaviour. But he would like to be her friend. Nothing else - he knew that wouldn’t ever happen - but friends was good.

“Now make haste!” Gundham suddenly cried, making Kazuichi jump. “Continue the search! I shall rejoin you as soon as I am able.”

“No, rest. Don’t move and especially don’t put your coat on again. I’ll find Maga-Z,” Kazuichi said quickly. He dashed outside before Gundham could protest, groaning as the sticky heat wrapped around him once more.

He started searching again, after taking a quick detour to Mikan’s cabin to ask if she could go check on Gundham and make sure he hadn’t gone out into the sun again. Almost everyone on the island was searching now, splitting off into little groups to cover more ground. Nagito was one of the last to join in - and Hajime and Kazuichi watched in astonishment as he shifted the very first box he touched in the storage room of the old building and pointed. “There he is.”

“WHY didn’t I ask him first?!” Kazuichi practically screamed.

“Ultimate Luck seems a pretty useful talent,” Hajime murmured to him, not wanting Nagito to hear. It’d only start him off on a long self-deprecating rant. “Go on then, Kazuichi. Get him.”

Kazuichi peered behind the box on his hands and knees. Maga-Z was cowering in the corner, fur dishevelled and standing on end. He didn’t look too friendly. “Why do I have to grab the stupid hamster?” Kazuichi whined. “You grab him, Hajime. I don’t like them. They look like they know too much.”

“What are you on about?” Hajime sighed. “It’s just a hamster. You can’t be scared of a hamster, Kazuichi.”

“They’re Gundham’s hamsters. They probably like… worship the devil or something.”

“Hamsters don’t worship anything. They’re just hamsters.”

“Can I go now?” Nagito asked, looking like he was losing braincells just listening to this conversation.

“Yeah, thanks, Nagito. Unless you fancy grabbing this hamster,” Kazuichi said. He looked hopeful, but Nagito left without another word.

“I’ll do it,” Hajime said, exasperated. He reached behind the box to ease his hand underneath Maga-Z, but as soon as his fingers brushed fur, the hamster made a mad dash forward. Directly towards Souda. He squealed and hastily cupped both hands around Maga-Z, holding him at arm’s length. “Oh my God, oh my God, I got him… Oh God, he’s gonna bite me, I know he is,” Kazuichi whined.

“Hey, good job,” Hajime said, surprised. “I didn’t think you’d catch him.”

“I’m not a baby, Hajime,” Kazuichi huffed. Then he whimpered in a very childish way. “Ugh, he’s wriggling around. Can I… put him somewhere? A bag or something? I don’t trust him.”

“Just shove him in your pocket and let’s go. It’s boiling in here. And Gundham will be stressing about Maga-Z. Do you know where he is?”

“I had to put him to bed because he nearly fainted. He was running around in his black coat all day.”

Hajime rolled his eyes. “Nobody on this island has any self-preservation skills.”

“At least Maga-Z is okay.” Kazuichi studied the little ball of fluff cupped in his hands. Somehow his little ink drop eyes did look menacing. “Hey, he really does look like he wanted to go off and cause chaos on his own, doesn’t he?”

Hajime gave Kazuichi a look. “I think you’ve spent too much time with Gundham today.”

Thankfully, Gundham was still in his room and looking a lot better, though still very visibly agitated. His colour had returned to ghostly pale (he must’ve reapplied his makeup) and his eyes were far more focused - they snapped to the door right away when Hajime opened it. When he saw Kazuichi, his hands still full of wriggling hamster, his brow cleared.

“Take him, quick!” Kazuichi said, hurrying over to the bed. “I’m sure he wants to bite me.”

“You fiend,” Gundham murmured, taking the hamster. For a second Kazuichi was offended, thinking Gundham was calling him names when he and Hajime had been nice enough to bring the hamster back, but then he realised Gundham was talking to Maga-Z. He spoke to them in exactly the same way he spoke to his classmates, no silly mushy voices like most people did with cute animals.

“I can only pray you have not caused too much destruction while unsupervised,” he murmured, smoothing Maga-Z’s fur. The hamster sat up to greet him like a little puppy, and Kazuichi noticed for the first time that Maga-Z’s cheeks were bulging.

“Did he really run off just to steal food?” Kazuichi groaned. “We’ve been so stressed and he was just eating!”

“Ah yes, a feast befitting the magnificent Crimson Steel Elephant,” Gundham said, gently placing Maga-Z with the other hamsters. They circled him joyfully, happy to be reunited too.

Kazuichi threw his hands up exasperatedly. “I give up. You’re all nuts.”

Gundham turned to Kazuichi, his face solemn. “I am deeply indebted to you, as is everybody who resides on this island. I cannot speak of the terrors that may have occurred if Maga-Z was without guidance. I shall spread the story of your triumph to every other mortal here so they can show you due gratitude,” he said.

“Oh… Thanks, man.” Kazuichi could see he meant well, but the thought of Gundham telling everyone Kazuichi saved the island from a hamster’s destruction was pretty embarrassing. He could already see Hajime smirking out of the corner of his eye.

“You should stay inside a bit longer though,” Hajime said. “Just in case. You need to make sure you’re totally cooled down.”

“Indeed. I have had ample excitement for one day,” Gundham said.

“Me too,” Kazuichi mumbled.

“If you’re feeling better, you can tell everyone about Kazuichi saving the island over dinner,” Hajime said, grinning. Kazuichi glared at him.

“Asshole,” he muttered as soon as they were outside Gundham’s cabin.

Hajime burst out laughing. “Maybe he’ll make you sound really gallant and fearless when he tells it.”

“Then everyone will know it’s a lie right away. And anyway, Nagito saw what happened. Even if you don’t give away the real story, he’ll definitely tell.”

“Probably. But you did save his hamster, even if you weren’t that fearless about it. Is there a truce between you two now?”

“I suppose so. He’s not so bad. Crazy and dramatic and difficult… but okay,” Kazuichi admitted. He paused. “I don’t know what half of the words he uses mean though.”

“Yeah,” Hajime agreed. “I don’t either.”

[fruitcoops]

I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!! it’s helping me get over sw ending😭😭 could u do 58 aand 63 for cap?? i need more of your writing and the prompts are so good!!!

Y’all really love seeing my sweet boy hurting, huh? Lucky for you, I enjoy writing angst with a happy ending. This is a continuation of Sea Salt and Sunshine, and is loosely based on my own experience with heatstroke (pro tip: don’t get it halfway up the Grand Canyon). Always always always remember to monitor your water/ salt balance! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Prompt 58: “You’re shaking. What’s wrong.”

Prompt 63: “Hey, woah. Don’t pass out on me.”

 TW for heatstroke symptoms!

The day grew hotter and hotter and hotter until Sirius was ready to follow James’ smoothie’s example and melt into a puddle. He was not built for Florida weather, and certainly not for doing exercise on ninety-degree beaches.

“I can’t wait to be home,” Remus groaned as he let his head fall back against the trunk of a palm tree. Sirius winced at the state of his arms; from his elbows to his mid-back was a vicious red color that worsened despite their best efforts with aloe and sunscreen. “I miss being able to breathe without also feeling like I’m inhaling water.”

Black fuzz sprinkled the edges of Sirius’ vision and he shook his head to clear them. “Woah.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, all good.” He didn’t feel all that sick, just wobbly and unusually cold. “Did the wind pick up?”

“No?” Remus sat up and touched his arm. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

Sirius shook his head again, then grabbed the nearest vacant beach chair for support as the world tilted. “I don’t know, I’m just really dizzy all of a sudden.”

“Have you been drinking water?”

“Tons.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Lunch,” he snapped, suddenly impatient. Guilt and confusion washed over him as Remus paused. He never spoke to him like that. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I think you might have heatstroke. If your salt and water balance is off, it’s easier to fall under. Stay in the shade while I grab some goldfish or something, okay?” Remus’ hands were cool when he rubbed them up and down Sirius’ arms. “Baby, are you listening?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Will you check on the other guys, too?”

“Of course I will.” Remus’ face creased with worry as he jogged down the beach to talk to Coach. Sirius closed his eyes and focused on taking deep breaths to calm himself.

In. Playing volleyball on their first day there.

Out. Tossing Remus into the water like a sack of potatoes.

In. Winning their first Florida game after a close third period.

Out. The dozens of freckles that scattered Remus’ cheeks by their second afternoon in the sun.

In. Pots’ endless quest to find a blue smoothie.

Out. They would be back in chilly Gryffindor soon. Cold sounded good right now.

“Hey, baby, how are you feeling?”

Sirius blinked and grimaced in the sun. Everything was fractured or blurred by the light, even the shadowed outline of Remus’ face. “That was really fast.”

“I was gone for about ten minutes, actually. Kuny’s got heatstroke too, and Bliz got a bad sunburn from a missed sunscreen spot. Coach called off practice for the rest of the day because it isn’t going to cool down any time soon.”

“Mhmm.” In all honesty, Sirius only caught every third word, but the gist was clear. “Heading home?”

“Yeah, can you stand up?”

“Of course I can stand up,” he scoffed, struggling to his feet and gripping the nearest tree for support.

“Do you need an arm?”

“Nah, I got it.” Sirius took two shaky steps toward the path to the parking lot and stumbled, only for Remus to catch him and steady him around the chest.

“Hey, woah. Don’t pass out on me. Let me help.” Remus wound his arm around Sirius’ waist and took some of his weight as they made their way off the beach onto solid ground again. The concrete was blazing hot, but Sirius’ head had started to pound as soon as he stood and his teeth rattled with each pulse of his heart. Something crinkly was pressed into his hand—only then did he realize he was sitting in the car. “Seatbelt on, eat these.”

They pulled out of the lot just as Sirius managed to open the bag and toss back a handful of salty crackers; he didn’t immediately feel better, but some of the growing nausea passed and he felt marginally less sweaty. Five minutes and a kids’ pack of goldfish later, he was coherent enough to notice Remus’ hands flexing and gripping the steering wheel. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Blame yourself. You’re doing your anxiety hands.”

“You know, for someone as repressed as you were, you’re remarkably intuitive.”

Sirius laughed lightly. “You’re one to talk. I’m serious, Re, this was my own fault.”

“I should’ve been paying attention,” he muttered.

“That’s not your job anymore. All of us should have been paying closer attention to when we ate and drank water. Honestly, we probably shouldn’t have had practice during a heat wave.”

Remus’ lips quirked up. “It’s Florida, there’s always a heat wave.”

“True.” Sirius looked down and realized he was still in his swim trunks. “Aw, I’m sweating all over your seat.”

“Oh no, not that,” Remus said. “I’ve never had your sweat anywhere near me before.”

“How will you possibly survive?”

Remus reached over and rested his hand on Sirius’ thigh for a moment. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thanks to you. I’m still all gross, though.”

“Yeah, you’re going right in the shower when we get back,” Remus laughed, flipping his turn signal on. “It’s going to be the coldest shower you’ve ever taken.”

“What? Why?”

“Cold water is good for easing heatstroke. Also, your skin is super overheated right now and no matter what the temperature is, you’ll probably still feel cold.”

Sirius closed his eyes and laced their fingers together. “A fake ice bath. Okay.”

The car was quiet after that, aside from the radio and Remus’ soft humming as he ran his thumb over Sirius’ knuckles. A cold shower sounded like heaven, and then perhaps a nice long nap before they packed for their early-morning flight. They deserved a vacation day.

[liluwrites]

Sugar High

Characters: Lithuania x Poland, N. Italy

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Feliks knows how to handle the highs and lows of his diabetes, and the complications that come with it. But romance is another matter entirely – and when a kind stranger stops to help him in the street, he finds himself thrown into the chaos of awkwardness, flirting, and the possibility of second chances. A huge thank you to @gnostic-heretic and @lotusdumpling for beta reading this fic, you guys are awesome!

It’s not entirely a surprise when his body decides to try to kill him.

He’s been feeling it coming for the best part of an hour, but there’s not much he can do to stave off the oncoming hypo when he’s in a lecture with a professor who whips around at the sound of a package crinkling or the barely audible hiss of a carbonated drink. Most professors are fairly chill, but this one won’t even let him bring coffee without a vicious glare. Perhaps if Feliks were less awkward, he would argue his (extremely valid) point that he has diabetes and without access to food he could, well, die. But he’s a socially anxious mess, so instead he stays quiet and tries not to pass out. Once the lecture is finally over, he stands shakily and heads for his dorm. Feliciano will already be home, and the moment they see him they’ll be bombarding him with Lucozade and far too many slices of toast. He smiles at the thought. Feliciano is ridiculously motherly for a nineteen-year-old, and Feliks wouldn’t change them for the world. Unfortunately, he doesn’t make it to Feliciano, because by the time he’s turning the corner to head towards the dorm, his head starts swimming and his legs quiver, and he finds himself slowly sinking to sit against the brick wall with his head ducked between his knees. With trembling hands, he reaches for his monitoring kit and clicks the needle against the pad of his index finger, then waits for the reading. 2.8 He sucks in a breath. Not good. Very not good. Especially sitting alone against a wall on a quiet afternoon on campus, with no one around to offer help. The humid air is closing in around him, suffocating, and perhaps if he called out someone would come to him - but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t. He can’t bear for anyone to see him like this. He just needs Feliciano. But his phone had died partway through the lecture, and his dorm is around a corner and up six flights of stairs, and there’s no way he can get there without collapsing. He can feel his heart stuttering in his chest, and his skin is prickling, although he can’t tell if it’s from anxiety or because this is the worst hypo he’s had in a while and he might actually fucking die. He’s gonna die. Oh fuck, he’s gonna die he’s gonna die he’s gonna die – “Are you alright?” The voice sounds strange, as if it’s coming from underwater. Feliks looks up and sees a face leaning over him, unfocused – pale skin and soft brown hair and green eyes - and then there’s a hand reaching out and hovering above him, as if they want to touch him but don’t quite dare. “Do you need, uh, water or anything?”

 He closes his eyes briefly and forces another breath into his leaden lungs. “Won’t help.”

 “Shit, what can I do to help you? I don’t know how to help you.”

 The urgency in his voice makes Feliks’ throat tighten. “Juice,” he whispers.

 “I - what? Oh, shit, yeah, I’ve got juice, is orange okay?” Feliks resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Right, let me just - “ There’s the thump of a backpack hitting the ground, followed by rummaging and muffled curses, and then he’s pressing something into Feliks’ palm, something small and square with sharp corners – a juice box!

With a wave of almost nauseating relief, Feliks takes the plastic straw in his lips and sucks. The orange juice is sticky and acidic against his tongue. It makes him feel slightly sick, but he’s never been more grateful. Thank god for kind strangers. “Does that help?” The tentative voice sounds again, closer this time. Feliks looks up. The kind stranger is crouching in front of him, his backpack lying on the ground at his feet. He’s watching him intently with concerned eyes. “You don’t need an ambulance, do you?” Feliks shakes his head. The movement feels heavy and syrupy, but everything is slightly more focused now – and yeah, maybe he’s not going to die, after all. Anxiety brain can be a bitch. “No, I’m okay. This happens a lot.” This makes Kind Stranger look even more alarmed. “A lot? I don’t think that’s normal.” Despite his kind of pathetic situation, he chokes a laugh. “It’s fine. I have diabetes. Hypos aren’t great, but I can deal with them.” “Oh, okay.” He seems relieved by this information. “I was worried it might’ve been because of the heat. Heatstroke can be pretty serious.” Feliks gives him a wan smile. “So can diabetes.” He immediately feels guilty when Kind Stranger recoils, stricken. “Oh no, I didn’t mean it isn’t serious! I’m so sorry, of course it’s serious! I just meant – “ “It’s okay, I was joking.” “Oh…haha…” Kind Stranger rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Even so, I’m sorry. I can be pretty tactless. I’m not great with people.” Feliks looks at his earnest expression and wonders why someone like him wouldn’t be popular. Surely his kindness should attract good friends like moths to a light. “Seriously, you’re fine. Neither am I. I’m not good at talking to strangers.” Kind Stranger cracks a tiny smile. “You’re talking to me.” Feliks smiles back. “I guess I am.” He reaches over and lightly taps the juice box. “Drink some more. You’re still shaking.” Obediently, he pokes the straw back into his mouth and takes another sip. “You sound like my roommate. They always fuss.” “I think I have a right to fuss,” he says, with a defensive pout that is actually kind of cute. “You almost passed out in front of me.” “Touché.” They fall silent, and Feliks concentrates on sipping at his juice box and feeling the consciousness return to his body. Kind Stranger sits quietly in front of him, watching him with soft eyes and a gentle smile. Feliks can’t meet his gaze without blushing. He’s very cute, he thinks, despite his ugly sweater vest and bitten-down nails. Feliks wouldn’t mind seeing him again, perhaps in better circumstances. “What’s your name?” He asks impulsively. Kind Stranger blinks. “Uh, Toris. Laurinaitis. I’m an astrophysics major.” “Your name is almost as bad as mine. Feliks Łukasiewicz. I study Literature.” “Oh, Literature. That must be interesting.” Feliks grins at him. “You think it sounds terrible, don’t you?” Toris’ eyes widen and he holds out his hands in defence. “No, no! It’s just, my dyslexia makes reading kind of difficult for me, but I’m sure as an area of study it’s fascinating – “ “If it’s any consolation, science makes me want to cry.” “Honestly? Same.” They both laugh. “But it's the closest I'll ever get to my childhood dream of going into space.” Feliks blinks at him. “Why can't you? Follow your dreams and all that.” He taps the thin wire rim of his glasses. “Don’t have 20/20 vision.” “I don’t think I could go into space either,” he consoles him. “Anyway, I cry on rollercoasters, I'm not sure I could handle a rocket.” Toris pulls a face. “I went on a rollercoaster once. Never again.” Feliks laughs and drains the last drops of his juice box. He’s feeling a lot better now – a little weak and shaky, perhaps, but no longer on the verge of death. A warm shower and a slice of Feliciano's home-made pizza sounds perfect right now, but more than that, he doesn’t want to stop talking. “Toris,” he says gravely, looking him straight in the eye. “I have something serious to ask you, something that could make or break our friendship.” “Our – ? Oh, okay!” Toris flushes slightly, looking pleased. He swallows. “Go ahead.” He seems slightly terrified, but Feliks can't help but drag out the silence teasingly, before he asks, “In your professional opinion, does Pluto still count as a planet?” Toris sits up straight. “Pluto will always be a planet. Fight me.” “I like you.” Perhaps he wouldn’t normally be so blunt, but his mind still feels hazy and scrambled. “Yeah, I definitely like you.” “Thank you?” Toris says, and he’s a blushing mess, and Feliks might be slightly in love. Awkwardly, Toris casts his eyes about for a distraction. “Are you feeling better?” Feliks smiles. Toris is definitely like Feliciano. “I'm fine now, seriously.” He unpacks his monitor and checks again. “Look, 3.9. That’s almost normal.” “Oh.” Hesitantly, he asks, “Doesn’t it hurt? The needle? Oh no, was that an insensitive question? I'm sorry – “ He laughs and cuts him off. “Don’t worry, you’re fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore, I've been doing it since I was eight. You get used to it.” “I guess you would,” Toris says. “You can get used to anything.” Toris’ phone chimes, and he swipes a finger across the screen and rolls his eyes fondly. “Oh, for God’s sake, Alfred.” “Who's Alfred?” A boyfriend? he wonders, looking at the affectionate expression on his face. “My roommate. He's an idiot and a dickhead but I love him.” “Oh, your roommate. Good.” That strikes a chord in Feliks' mind as he suddenly remembers; “Oh, fuck! Feliciano! They’ll be worried.” “I can message them,” Toris offers, already whipping out his phone again. Feliks sighs in relief and gives him Feliciano's number. “Just tell them I'm outside the dorm and I had a hypo.” Barely two minutes later, Feliciano arrives, half-running with their phone in one hand and a bottle of Lucozade in the other. They reach them and scoop Feliks into such a tight hug they lift him bodily from the ground, then pull back to say, Why didn’t you message me sooner? You frightened me! Drink this. They thrust the Lucozade at him, and Feliks smiles and pushes it gently away. I'm okay, T-O-R-I-S gave me a juice box. I’m fine, I promise. Feliciano eyes him critically. T-O-R-I-S? Feliks gestures to Toris, who is lingering beside them with an awkward half-smile. He found me here and stayed with me and gave me some juice, he’s really kind! And he studies astrophysics, and he doesn’t like rollercoasters either, and! And he knows that Pluto’s still a planet. Feliciano gives him a sideways look, smiling knowingly. Feliks blushes and rolls his eyes. Licking their lips nervously, Feliciano turns to Toris and clears their throat. “Thank you for looking after Feliks,” they enunciate carefully. Their intonation is slightly irregular, but otherwise their speech is very clear, and Feliks gives them a proud smile. Toris nods, looking equally nervous, then hesitantly curves his hand in towards his chest. You’re welcome. Feliks grins as he watches Feliciano’s face light up. Toris clearly isn’t fluent in ASL, or anywhere close, but just the effort is enough to make Feliciano overjoyed, and he can literally feel himself falling for Toris. Anyone who makes his best friend smile like that is someone special. Feliciano flings their arms around Toris, who looks startled but pleased as he hugs them back. Carefully, Feliciano eases Feliks up from the wall and steadies him when his head spins, and Toris picks up his bag off the ground and helps him hang it over his shoulder. He checks his levels again, and he’s pretty much normal now, but he’s dying for some carbs. They linger at the corner for a moment, neither of them wanting to leave. “You can come up to the dorm with us, if you want,” Feliks offers impulsively. “Number 132. I bet Feliciano will make you some pizza.” “I will,” they confirm, their voice stronger and more confident. “But not pineapple because that’s blasphemous.” Feliks pulls a face behind their back, and Toris stifles a laugh. “I wish I could, but I’ve already missed half a lecture.” A spear of guilt stabs into him. “Shit, I’m sorry.” “Don’t apologise!” Feliciano and Toris exclaim in unison. They smile at each other, and Toris continues, “Seriously, it’s fine. I’m glad I had the chance to meet you, Feliks.” “You, too.” And then Toris is waving at them and walking away, and Feliks is not expecting the sadness that washes over him, because he doesn’t want this to be an ending. Rationally, he knows that Toris only stopped to help him because he’s a kind person, and now the crisis is averted, he has no obligation to stay in his life – but he’d felt something between them, and it hurts a little to think that Toris didn’t feel feel the same. He wants to call out to him, but Toris is already turning the corner and Feliciano is guiding him into the elevator in the lobby, and everything is back to normal. So, Feliciano says as soon as the elevator doors slide shut. T-O-R-I-S, hm? Feliks just sighs and shakes his head, pushing their hands away. Feliciano shrugs. Pizza, then? Feliks gives them a weak smile. Yeah, pizza. Extra pineapple. You heathen. Feliks laughs half-heartedly. His mind is still distracted with thoughts of Toris, and the regret of fuck, he should’ve got his number. Yeah, this is definitely an ending. With a sigh, he follows Feliciano into the dorm and shuts the door behind them. *** Feliks has no classes the next day, so he rises late and spends the morning padding around the dorm in his pink bathrobe, sipping at a decaf americano. He has a ton of work to do, but it’s one of those beautiful summer mornings with silky white light making patterns against the floorboards, and he wants to lament elegantly over his lost chance at romance like a tragic heroine. Feliciano, a revoltingly cheerful morning person, makes them both pancakes, then sprawls on their stomach on the floor, taking advantage of the perfect lighting to snap aesthetic photos of flowers for their Instagram. It’s a quiet, lazy Saturday, so Feliks is totally unprepared for the knock at the door. Expecting it to be some idiot from next door wanting to borrow detergent or something, he drags himself off the couch and slouches over to the door, tugging it open with a yawn. “Yes?” Then he freezes. “Oh, shit, Toris.” In an instant, his mind registers exactly how he must look; tattered pink gown, chipped nail polish, barefoot, bedhead – an utter mess. He kind of wants to slam the door in Toris’ face, but that would be a dick move, and his heart has already leapt into his throat at the sight of him. Toris’ shy smile drops slightly. “Oh…did I come at a bad time? Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” “Wait, no, fuck, I am happy to see you. I’m really happy to see you. I just look disgusting right now.” “I think you look fine,” Toris says earnestly, and Feliks feels his face heat up. “Um, I just wanted to make sure you were okay?” Feliks blinks at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?” “Well, you know,” he shifts his feet uncomfortably. “After yesterday. I wanted to check that you’re feeling better.” He stares at him for a moment, then splutters with laughter and pushes him playfully. “Oh, Toris! Hypos don’t last that long – I’m fine, see? I was fine right after I got back to the dorm.” “Oh.” His face is flushed, but he manages a tiny rueful grin. “Sorry, I don’t know very much yet. I googled it, you know. Diabetes. I wanted to know what to do if something happened again, how to help in the future.” Feliks looks at him with wide eyes, lost and confused and a little hopeful. “In the future?” If possible, Toris’ face turns even more red. “I mean, only if you want to, of course. But like, I thought maybe you’d want to hang out again, as friends or – more? Shit, sorry, that’s going way too fast. But – I thought you might want to get coffee with me?” He says the last part in a rush, merging his words together and focusing intently on the ground. For a moment, Feliks is stunned. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across his face. “Hey, Toris.” He waits until he looks up at him. “I would love to.” Toris’ whole posture relaxes in relief, and his face lights up like the sun appearing through the clouds. “When?” “This afternoon?” Toris nods eagerly. “Yes, please, this afternoon.” “Okay, this afternoon.” “Okay.” “Okay.” They stand there for a long moment, grinning at each other like idiots. Feliks’ face hurts from smiling so much. He feels like he could stay like this forever, lingering in the doorway to his dorm, but he can’t help but ruin the moment. “Maybe okay will be our always.” Toris groans and pushes him in the chest, and he stumbles back a step, laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” “You should be.” And then they’re laughing again, and Feliks is asking, “Do you want to come in? You can have a pancake.” “Why do you always bribe me with food, Feliks Łukasiewicz?” He absolutely butchers his last name, but Feliks doesn’t care. It’s cute, coming from Toris. “What else would you like me to bribe you with?” He wriggles his eyebrows seductively, and Toris groans again and flushes deeply. It’s adorable how easily he blushes. “So do you want to come in?” “I’m really sorry, I wish I could, but I’m meeting Alfred and his boyfriend for an early lunch.” He smiles regretfully. “But I’ll see you this afternoon, yeah?” He smiles back. “Yeah.” “Okay.” “Okay.” Toris smirks. “Okay.” “Go away.” Feliks pushes him out of the doorway, laughing. “Go eat lunch. I’ll see you later.” “Goodbye, Feliks.” Toris waves at him as he turns down the corridor. “I’ll see you.” He waits until Toris has started to walk down the stairs, then slams the door shut and spins to face Feliciano. His roommate is standing behind him, hands on their hips and a delighted grin plastered across their face. I don’t believe it. My baby has a date! You’re barely a year older than me, he protests. Feliciano just tuts and opens their arms. Feliks runs to them, flings his arms around their neck, and spins them both around in the middle of the floor, faster and faster until they’re dizzy and breathless, because Feliks has a date. With Toris Laurinaitis. And nothing, he thinks, could be better than that. *** He arrives at the coffee shop at just past four o’clock. Although Feliciano has done everything to make him feel brave – repainting his nails a pastel pink, dabbing his lips with shimmering gloss and a touch of silver sparkles on his eyelids, picking out a perfectly-coordinated ‘casual’ outfit from their combined wardrobes and completing it with a silk scarf draped elegantly around his neck – he’s trembling a little, and he waits outside the shop for a few minutes, taking deep breaths to compose himself. Through the wide window, he can see Toris sitting at a table for two. It’s reassuring to see that he looks as nervous Feliks feels – he’s fidgeting with his clasped hands, chewing on his lower lip and glancing anxiously towards the door. Perhaps he thinks Feliks isn’t coming. Perhaps he thinks Feliks has lied to him, stood him up, or has even just forgotten. As if he could forget. He’s been thinking about this all day, as Feliciano danced around him, getting him all dressed up and pretty. He looks down at his outfit, smiling. A light coral shirt combined with his cropped denim jacket with silver buttons and his Pride pin, a pair of Feliciano’s shorts, and white sandals that show off his freshly-painted toenails. A butterfly-printed canvas handbag containing his phone and wallet and insulin pen is slung casually over one shoulder. He takes a deep breath. You look beautiful, Feliciano had told him resolutely before he had left. Even more beautiful than usual. Stunning. Gorgeous. Eye-catching. Absolutely magnificent – Shut up! He had complained, giggling, but he’s grateful for the compliments now. If Toris had thought he looked good in his ancient bathrobe, or when he was doubled over on the street trying not to pass out, then surely he’ll like him in this. Hopefully, he’ll like him in anything. He walks to the entrance and pauses. Lowers his shoulders, straightens his back, lifts his chin high. Then, he summons all his strength and steps through the doorway. The way Toris looks at him makes everything okay. His face lights up, radiant, his smile so bright it makes him glow. His hair falls to his shoulders in loose waves, a deep chestnut brown highlighted bronze in the afternoon sunlight. Feliks could look at him forever; his hair, his smile, his eyes. And as he walks towards him, pulls out a chair, sits down, his heart is buzzing with the thought that this isn’t an ending after all: it’s only the beginning. Fin.

[iamapoopmuffin]

Michael’s Week At Work So Far

[To be updated if anything else horrible happens this week]

So, it’s a show week this week. Opening night Wednesday, performing the next few days (though I'm not in on the Friday since because medical issues) and since we’re now approaching heatwave territory, the heat has been getting to us. So some nice, nasty things that have happened.

Monday

During a run, someone leaned on a fire escape door and it opened. Fire alarm went off as a result. We had to stop rehearsals for over an hour.

One man went to hospital with severe chest pains and vomiting. An ambulance had to be called.

Best friend collapsed. Was fully conscious and refused medical attention because he deals really badly with heat, and collapses a lot in summer, and has done for a long long time, and because it happens a lot he insisted he was fine. Friend Archie sat by him while he recovered and sprayed him with water.

I collapsed (well, my legs gave out) once from medical condition caused fatigue, and fell asleep twice due to the same thing. Luckily never while I was needed (and nobody noticed my legs give out, if they had it would’ve been embarrassing)

There were a lot of water fights and people randomly dousing themselves with water. We got shouted at.

We were told not to practice the dance on the upper rig because it was where the lights made things even more hot than anywhere else in the room. We were told this after waiting in the increased heat level for a good 20 minutes while they got things ready below. We were all pissed off.

All fans were broken. Director asked for fans from I don’t know who, some higher up of some kind. Request was refused.

One of the leads smashed into me as I was bent over (I was meant to be straight standing by this point, but I had to go up third of eight because it was in canon, and person 1 had not yet gone up and never did). I got a bruised arse and he ended up sprawled on the ground. A true professional, he never stopped singing.

My costume tore across the knee when I sat down.

Tuesday

During a run, a woman playing a principle role passed out and had a heatstroke-induced seizure. As she fell, she fell against a fire escape door, setting off the alarm. I was in the green room with Best Friend at the time, but we both went down when we heard the alarm. An ambulance had to be called. Tech peeps said everything was fine and it was just a brief blackout about 5 seconds before panic-running to call for the ambulance.

Best friend left his asthma inhaler in the wings. Best friend had an asthma attack. We were not allowed into the theatre/backstage to retrieve the inhaler (even though he was obviously struggling) because that was where principle role lady had had her seizure, and she was still there, though she was sitting up and saying she felt better. Best friend ended up going to hospital and seizure girl stayed at work. Both are fine now.

Fire alarm went off again when someone closed the fire escape door.

Somebody fell off the rigging, which was scripted, but he was supposed to be caught. He almost wasn’t because one of the people supposed to catch him went to hospital the day before with severe chest pains and vomiting. Somebody ran in at the last minute. Not sure guy on rigging even noticed.

A girl started feeling too nauseous to continue, partially because she hadn’t eaten all day. She claimed it was because she didn’t have a chance to eat.

We got fans from whoever refused them before because of principle’s collapse.

Nobody could concentrate fully on the rehearsal after all this shit. Except principle girl who was hella rad throughout.

Wednesday

All people who were hospitalised previously returned to work today.

A piece of small moving set lost a wheel while people were on it. No injuries were sustained. This was at the beginning of a run. Rest of run was done without it, improvising travelling wherever it was used before.

Fire exit doors were opened. Alarm did not go off.

We got a fucktonne of fans.

Someone left while still mic’d up. We can only assume she took mic 3 on an epic adventure filled with dragons and giants who are also tree people.

My costume tore again. I think it’s too small.

I purposely dehydrated myself so I wouldn’t be desperate for the toilet during song 5. I say dehydrated, I usually don’t drink much (it takes me hours to finish one drink unless I’m really thirsty) and it had no adverse affects...

A principle singer and a lead actor both decided they didn’t want to take part after all. Principle singer was because she was feeling extremely ill. Neither said anything to anyone other than fellow actors and both went on anyway.

1 minute before the curtain was due to go up, mic 6 broke. It was repaired in a quick botch job and the arrangement was made that when the main person who needed it for his main song needed it, if it broke agai, someone else would have to sacrifice their mic to him.

Immediately after botch job, every odd-numbered mic broke. Some never came back.

Not drinking did not work and I needed to go during song 7. Luckily I was not in song 7.

Mics kept failing mid-song.

During one dance, literally only one person remembered an entire chorus worth of choreography. Everyone else in that section held a position they weren’t meant to hold. Girl that remembered everything looked like an idiot.

A piece of backdrop fell. A sliver of backstage was visible to the audience. We honestly failed to notice for a while.

A principle singer started vomiting profusely outside the fire exit.

Towards the end of the interval, someone asked me to pass some props from the prop table. Or rather, they asked if someone would, and everyone looked at me because I was closest to the table, though someone else was stood in the way so I couldn’t move to the part of the table the wanted props were on and had to awkwardly lean (good thing I’m tall af). Because of this and my dyspraxia, I misjudged my grip and position of my hands and did not pick everything up in one go. Girl who asked for props was okay with that. Girl stood in the way flipped her shit. Started shouting at me for not picking everything up in one go despite knowing damn well I’m dyspraxic, and knowing I have severe and untreated anxiety and PTSD. She was just looking for someone to take her shitty mood out on. I had a panic attack (but not a hyperventilation one which is a new experience for me) and could still dance but could not sing or change my facial expression and probably looked super terrified and like I was about to cry. It hit its worst after we were backstage after the curtain call. TL;DR, I spent the entire second half of the show having a panic attack.

Turned out mics were failing because of mobile phone interference within the theatre.

People, supposed professionals, were shouting backstage.

There was supposed to be a runner for people going to the green room to free up space backstage for those who needed to be onstage soon. The runner was to go up and tell those waiting in the GM what numbers were coming up. Runner sat in one place for the entirety of the play and did not do their job.

Thursday

Staging repaired, Lead that didn’t want to go on yesterday got over his anxiety attack, weather was a lot cooler...All was well. Until the fire nation attacked.

Best friend’s voice had gone hoarse. He got so stressed by this that he threw a water bottle at the rig that formed some of the set.

Overbooking happened. Admin error.

Mic 5 failed.

People kept walking through the one piece of curtain we were specifically told not to walk through.

Something fell off the onstage rig. Twice.

Best friend’s voice started to go during song 7 (his first solo of the play). Dewey plays main villain. He has several solos in several songs in this rock opera musical. He was so obviously hoarse and struggling in the later songs. I felt so bad for him.

Two people had to duck out due to feeling very ill.

Two people burst into tears after a song. Dewey and I were in the green room at the time and so have no idea what happened. We at first thought a lead actress had been injured because the moment she came off someone was with her, sitting her down and giving her water, but she was fine. All we heard was ‘something went wrong’, but it was a small enough something that other actors and actresses were complaining about the crying actresses. I assume the stress just got to them.

Mic 3 failed.

Person who remembered the dance everyone else forgot yesterday did not do the dance section everyone forgot. Nobody else did that section either. Everyone held the position they were not supposed to hold.

Dewey’s voice is now completely blown out. Understudy will have to take villain role tomorrow.

I will not be at work on Friday.