#but there are other colours besides red that could also be shorthand for this

[freshmangojuice]

ever think about how ace's ship is the only other red ship we've seen besides red dwarf?

[forestwater87]

Odd question. If you were doing a wing fic (shorthand: everyone has some kind of wings on their back; up to you if they're always out or if they can be banished and summoned at will) for Camp Camp, what kind of wings would the cast have?

Oooh I love wing fics! Hmmm, let’s see . . . 

David’s would be a little small for his age/size, and he’d probably be kind of embarrassed about that. He can still fly just fine with them -- which he’d say, defensively, if anyone pointed them out -- and they’re very fluffy, white, with little speckles of green flecked throughout.

Now I know most wing fics stick with feathered wings, but it did occur to me that some sort of insectlike wings -- all delicate-looking and iridescent like the surface of a bubble -- would also suit him very well. They’d be a bit more natural and forest-y, but would still have that element of embarrassment and shyness (he was probably called “fairy” a lot growing up, and it’d be a sore spot for him).

That being said, the idea of David having massive wings was suggested by @ciphernetics​, and I must admit that the idea of him either wrapping them around people to protect or comfort them is super cute. Also in a protective moment he could like fwoosh, out they come to shield the campers and it’d be badass. It’s not my preferred hc for him, but there are some lovely ways to play with it.

Gwen’s would be . . . serviceable. Dull, easily overlooked, probably some shade of gray or that kind of dun mousy brown that looks greyish in the right light, bigger than David’s but neither unusually large or small, not especially fluffy but not kind of molted the way some sick people’s are . . . they’re just sort of there. (She was probably nicknamed Pigeon by a lot of people, both as an affectionate term and a derogatory one. And like pigeons’ wings, there are little patches of color among her wings that are hard to see unless you’re looking for them it’s a metaphor get it? aren’t I clever ohoho)

Campbell’s are humongous. The biggest wings ever. He is a mountain of a man, with massive pure-white wings. Some people are convinced he genetically modified them somehow, and they do have this uncanny radioactive glow in the dark but don’t worry about that, it’s perfectly natural and not at all suspicious!

The fun thing about this is that they can get increasingly bedraggled as Season 3 progresses, until they’re drooping and muddy.

Quartermaster has bat wings. I don’t give a fuck if literally every other character has angel wings, QM’s are bats and that’s just the way it has to be.

I like the idea of the campers having small wings that can fit under their clothes, because they haven’t really grown in yet. I imagine maybe Nurf might be an exception, since he seems to be either older or just bigger than the other campers, but for the most part those kiddos look just like their normal selves. That being said, a few ideas of what they might look like grown up:

Max -- black, maybe a little big for his age, like a crow or raven’s wings. When he gets annoyed they puff up and slip out of his hoodie, and it’s a pain to put them back in which annoys him even more and gets them more puffy and hard to stuff back . . . it’s a constant struggle. Pity the poor kid.

Neil -- I’m torn between going with his hair color and giving him some hawklike brown-and-white wings, which I think would look nice with his coloring, and just going hog-wild and giving him wings like a bluebird because of his eyes. I think the latter would be too showy and embarrass him, but there’s something kinda cute about that too. His wings would be like his dad: impossible to ignore and much louder and more obnoxious (in his POV) than they need to be.

Nikki -- big and flecked with golden-orange. Of all the characters I think hers would have the most modifications, because as a kid/young adult she wasn’t careful with them and got them all torn up -- maybe to the point where she can’t even fly with them. But she has Neil and he’s a smart cookie, so I like to think of her wings having a vaguely-steampunk element of mechanisms and patches keeping them together.

Harrison -- white or a very light gray, like a dove’s. He paints the tips gold when he’s older as part of his illusionist costume.

Nerris -- I’m just thinking pure eastern bluebird, orange at the base and then exploding into brilliant blue. I think she’d love how flashy they are.

Ered -- Somehow I want her to have dragon wings. I have no idea why, or how, but I think it’d be extremely cool, and Ered is nothing if not cool. Especially if they’re really rare, almost unheard of, and she’s put a lot of work into transforming herself from the tomboyish freak with the demon wings and gay dads into something to be envious of. Besides, it’s easier to do sick stunts without having to worry about your feathers getting caught on stuff.

Nurf -- All right, I wanna get emo for a moment and say that his wings have been hacked either partly or entirely off by the time he’s an adult. We know he’s been abused in canon, and I think that people like that would go for the easiest target to hurt you, and that target is probably the delicate feathered things sticking out of your back. Bonus points if they’re somehow kind of girly, which coincides with his more sensitive nature and how he initially wanted to do ballet as a kid (especially since I don’t think that was well-received by his family). So, like . . . what remains are very fluffy and sweet-looking, maybe pink or pale yellow and orange or something, but they’re either little stubs he covers up all the time or they’ve got big chunks missing out of them but who’s gonna point that out to the huge guy with a pissed-off expression?

Preston -- Rainbow, like the most extravagant bird of paradise. Does he paint them himself, or are they as natural as he claims? 

Dolph -- Probably something very average and serviceable, in the brown/gray/white family, but they’re always speckled with paint because he’s not very careful with them and especially the long feathers at the bottom trail along the ground while he’s painting, or get stuck to his art if he turns around too suddenly.

Space Kid -- I’m thinking of a duck, for some reason. Partly because they’re aquatic and I just connect the ocean and space for some reason, partly because they’re very ordinary and that’s kind of how SK rolls, and partly because ducks can just flap for insane distances without getting tired (thank you Animorphs!). Space Kid is like that, I think -- very diligent, keeps his head down and gets things done, not very bright but he works so hard it makes up for a lot, and that’s why he’s going to be an astronaut someday. Mallards have those pretty green feathers, too, and I think those would look nice with Space Kid’s eyes.

Jasper -- Peacock. Obviously. He is the most garishly-dressed person in the show and his wings would match. Not that you’ll ever know, because he never gets to grow up and have real wings :( 

So those are the mains! As for some of the less-important characters, I don’t really have too many interesting ideas, but a few throwaway ones:

The Flower Scouts all have pink wings, either feathers or bug/fairy ones. I think maybe Tabii has a chunk missing from one of hers, from a fight or something, and the other girls made a patch so no one can tell and she can fly properly. Erin’s might be just slightly different colors -- one with an orangey tint, one with a blue.

A fun thing about bug wings is they could buzz when the girls are angry. So Sasha’s are basically always going, poor thing.

The Woodscouts probably have their wings bound, clipped, and constantly ready for combat flying. I’m thinking, like, the military-haircut version of wings.

Daniel’s . . . I mean, I don’t care about Daniel because he’s trash, but I do love the idea that they’re not naturally white and he dyes them. It’s my favorite Daniel hc and I need it to appear in every AU.

So that about covers it!

EXCEPT

Then I was talking with Ciphernetics about wing AUs, and I mentioned that in some wing fics (namely the awesome one by setepenre-set, though there are probably others) the wings’ size are based on how loved someone is. Which led to the below cuteness. Warning: shameless Gwenvid and Makkiel ahead, along with me insisting that Cameron Campbell isn’t the worst person in the entire world because I’m love him

Ciphernetics: Max’s wings growing during camp!Max voice: who the FUCK is loving me I specifically requested the opposite of thisDavid: You can even fit them in your hoodie anymore awwwwMax, struggling to pull it on over his wings: the hell I can't

Forestwater:(what if they come in the color of the person who loves you's hair)(so at first it's just this line of red that he knows is fucking David, goddamnit and then all of a sudden start sprouting these mint green and brown ones and my ship takes off)

Ciphernetics: Max, disgusted, throwing an auburn feather at David: get LOSTMax, looking over his shoulder in the mirror at the brown ones gathering at the tips and the mint ones scattered chaotically throughout: huh

Forestwater:Oh no what about when Nikki and Neil's start getting flecked with black, small and easily tugged out like they're ashamed of being there

Ciphernetics: The small really curly little feathery down that like to hide under other feathers(Gwen's had auburn in her wings since almost the first summer but lately it's started to overpower the rest of the colours. Not completely, it's just... Noticeable how much of it is the same colour now.)(She knew David loved people quickly and easily, it's just suddenly a lot more)(or she just wasn't paying attention)

Forestwater:What on earth would David's reaction be to suddenly finding some of Gwen's?I like the idea of her feathers being two-toned

Ciphernetics: I'd love if he's had a very small, slowly growing patch since they met (just a handful more each summer) but some event happens and suddenly there's a lotOh absolutely two tonedHey how about some angst;David's been waiting his whole life for Campbell's hair colourToday at 9:32 AMHe'd never say it but Campbell makes so many throwaway jokes about David being the son he never wanted but it rings a little hollow when there's not when one little brown/grey feather

Forestwater:until the end of season 3 when there's like . . . twoLISTEN I NEED MY TRASH GRANDPA

So that’s just a little bit of extra silliness for added angst/romance/fluff.

Hope this answer isn’t too long, but I was having fun.

[lickstynine]

How about fever Kit but trying to cope on his own? Maybe he has stuff to actually do, maybe he tries to go to class for once? It all finally gets too much for him but then Siofra steps in to the rescue at the end

Dedicated to my pal @ocsickficsideblog. You didn’t write this with me, but I used your idiots as a plot device, so, thanks.

Kit was sitting in Fox’s study, in the big leather chair, blanket on his shoulders and phone in his hand. He had been scrolling through his contacts all morning looking for someone to talk to. It was finals week, so Alistair and Julius were off the table - that was the only reason Kit was even at the manor. He felt like enough of a burden just lying around his cousin’s flat, he couldn’t interrupt Alistair’s studies, too.

Siofra wasn’t an option either, she had a big show coming up, she’d be rehearsing with her brothers all day. The rest of his “Favourites” were even less feasible - Kit hadn’t spoken to Nina, Isabella, or Leander since his falling out with Violet. He couldn’t even place most of the other names on his contact list. Looking back through his texts, he realized the only person he even talked to besides Siofra, Alistair, and Julius was Taddy. Did that even count? Taddy probably wouldn’t want a thing to do with Kit if it weren’t his job.

Kit sighed. He was alone. At least he was free to roam the house. Reggie liked to travel in the summer, and as far as he cared, summer stretched from May to October. He also had a wife to shop for, now that his divorce was finalized. Kit had overheard his father talking the other night: “I might get an Oriental this time. Those girls know their place.” He’d felt an uncannily Alistair-ish urge to spit in Reggie’s face.

Kit shook his head at the memory, closing his contacts and opening Facebook out of sheer boredom. No one his age really posted on there anymore, but at least it was something to do. He was skimming disinterestedly when a picture nearly made him drop his phone. John Renfrew, looking bitchy as ever, with a baby in his arms. His wife had captioned the photo: Rhoda is nearly six months now!

It took several moments for Kit to scrape his jaw off the floor. He continued to stare at the picture, as if it was going to change to something that made more sense, like John kicking a baby. How the fuck did John have a baby? Kit remembered Alistair saying his older cousin got married, but he’d assumed that would be about as long and fruitful as any of Reggie’s many marriages. And even worse was the idea of that sadistic bastard raising a child. Kit couldn’t imagine any girl who’d settle for John to be that pleasant. He clicked his tongue. Poor Rhoda.

Eventually Kit was able to tear his eyes from the post, and he continued scrolling. If he fixated on every child their family ruined, he’d never have time to do anything else. To his surprise, one of the next photos he saw actually had him in it. It was a picture Julius had posted last week, of Kit and Alistair kneeling on the floor while Oliver the hamster ran around them. Kit clicked on Julius’s name, hoping to see something a little more uplifting than his wretched family. A number on the profile page caught his eye - 28 May, 1998.

28 May? That had to be soon, if it was time for finals. Kit closed Facebook to check the date on his phone. He had a little less than three weeks, but now he also had an idea for something to do today. Julius needed a proper birthday present - it wasn’t like Alistair could afford one. If Kit went out now, he’d have time to custom-order products in Julius’s ridiculously small size. Of course, going out also required getting up and getting dressed. Ah, well. For Julius, Kit would do it. Or at least, he intended to.

As he stood up, Kit realized just how tired he was. He felt heavy and sluggish, and he shivered when his blanket slipped off. Was it really that cold in the house? He thought he’d turned the heat up when Reggie left. He shrugged it off, pulling his notepad out of his pyjama pocket.

Turn up heat, he scribbled, flicking through used pages to see if he’d actually written down what he was looking for. It was mostly just memos and musings, but when he got a few weeks back, Kit grinned. Julie Measurements, said the header. The following lines were all numbers with identifying shorthand. Kit couldn’t help being a little proud of himself for thinking to write this down last time he’d taken Julius shopping.

Walking up the stairs was frustratingly laborious; Kit almost missed Alistair’s single-story flat for a moment. He slogged down the hallway to his bedroom, leafing through his closet. The weather was supposed to be nice today, some fresh air would probably do him good (and hopefully it would be a little warmer outside). He settled on a charcoal blazer over a thin blue jumper and white button-down, with dark jeans. His earrings were already all silver, so he just grabbed a coordinating watch and a silver pendant with a small sapphire. It took a few minutes to find his charcoal boots, but he eventually dug them out, deftly loosing and re-tying the laces.

As usual, Kit spent another thirty minutes just fussing over his hair, and another ten concealing dark circles and putting on mascara. It was a bit after lunchtime by now, but he wasn’t even remotely hungry. He thought he might stop for tea on his way to the shopping centre - hopefully that would warm and wake him a little.

Gathering his phone, wallet, and keys, Kit finally made his way downstairs. He opened the door, and to his dismay, it was actually cooler outside than in the manor. He got about five steps down the walk before caving and ducking back inside to grab a proper coat. Even with his pea coat on, he felt a bit shivery, but Kit told himself it was the breeze. He just hadn’t gone out much lately, he would get acclimated soon enough. Besides, he was going out for Julius’s sake. He’d be a bit of a shit friend if he gave up at the slightest breath of wind.

Though he’d walked from the manor to the shopping centre from plenty of times, Kit found himself exhausted by the time he approached downtown. He needed to sit down, get some caffeine in his system. He spotted a familiar little cafe on the corner, trudging inside and practically collapsing in a chair.

It was hard to read the menu - the words seemed to wobble on the page, and squinting to focus them made his head hurt. Kit eventually gave up, just setting it aside and defeatedly ordering his usual earl grey.

“Will that be all for you?” The waitress’s voice sounded distorted and distant, like she was at the far end of a wind tunnel. Kit took a moment to process her question, and even longer to construct an answer.

“Me? Oh, um… yes. That’s all. Thank you.”

As the waitress walked away, Kit felt his face burning red. When did he get so bad at talking to people? Sure, he hadn’t been as social recently, but he was usually still charming when he tried. Just now, though, he’d been as awkward as Alistair. He sighed, staring quietly at the tablecloth. What was wrong with him today?  He was shivering even in the cafe, with the heat of the kitchen warming the dining area. Hopefully some time to rest and a cup of tea would straighten him out.

By the time the waitress returned with his drink, Kit had completely spaced out. The poor girl stood there awkwardly for a moment before clearing her throat. That got his attention, and he looked up at her, albeit with unfocused, glassy eyes.

“Hm?”

“Your tea, sir?” The waitress smiled gently, setting it on the table when Kit gave her an affirming nod. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled, not trusting himself to say more without looking like a stuttering idiot. She nodded back and hurried off to check on other tables.

Kit wrapped his fingers around the teacup, relishing the heat. His hands were always the worst affected when he was cold, often going clumsy and numb at seemingly moderate temperatures. He just held the cup for a minute, letting the warmth seep into his fingers. After staring into the abyss of his tea for a while, Kit eventually remembered that he’d purchased a drink, not a hand warmer, and he lifted the cup, taking a tiny sip.

The tea was still warm, fragrant with the familiar citrus note that all good earl grey had. Kit sipped again, sighing contently. He had always liked this cafe. Though the fog in his head refused to clear, he wasn’t shivering so much anymore. When his teacup was empty, Kit stared at it for a moment, wondering if he should have another cup.

No. He still had shopping to do. This was probably the only time he would be able to do it, too. When finals were over in a few days, Alistair would be attached to him at the hip again, and Kit didn’t trust his cousin to keep the gifts secret. He sighed deeply, pushing his chair out and climbing to his feet. He left a crisp twenty-pound note on the table and walked out onto the street.

The shopping centre was still a ways down the road, but there were some standalone shops along the way. Kit gazed in the windows as he walked past, waiting to see if anything caught his eye. Nothing had piqued his interest yet, but he was an object of interest to many of the girls walking by. A few of them stopped to stare, whispering between each other about asking for his number. They weren’t being very subtle, but Kit was too spacey to notice them, staring vacantly into the store he was walking past. He was about to leave it behind when he saw a pale beige jumper, patterned with tiny flecks of brown and grey. It wasn’t as flamboyant or avant-garde as something Kit would buy for himself, but it struck him as distinctly Julius.

He turned and went back to the entrance of the shop, pushing the pull door for a moment before realizing he was an idiot and letting himself inside. He wove through racks and mannequins, making his way back to the jumper he’d seen. Up close, it had even more subtle variations of colour, with greys and browns that were almost blue and pink respectively. Kit reached out a hand to touch the delicate fabric. It was stunningly soft, a beautiful blend of silk and cashmere. He thumbed through the racks, surprised and delighted to see that the smallest size would fit Julius superbly.

Carefully pulling the sweater away from its larger brethren, Kit made his way to the checkout. Nothing else in the store was catching his eye, and he still needed time to browse the shopping centre. He mumbled his way through the transaction, sticking his card in the chip reader without even checking the price. As soon as the bag was on his arm, he shuffled out of the store, continuing on his slog to the shopping centre.

It seemed like the road between Kit and the centre kept expanding, like some strange giant treadmill, but he knew it was just an illusion. Though he knew he couldn’t be far by now, it was hard to keep going. The tea had done almost nothing for his energy levels, and the sweater on his arm seemed to weigh a hundred pounds. Eventually, almost subconsciously, he just deposited himself on a bench, leaning back with a tired sigh. Everything was starting to feel cold again, and he pulled the shopping bag into his lap, hugging it close.

Kit wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting on the bench, or whether he’d drifted off or just zoned out, but he snapped back to reality when his phone started ringing. He had to fish through a few pockets to find it, not even checking the caller ID before answering.

“Hm?”

“Oi! I’ve texted you three different times today. You really are rubbish at texting. Anyway, rehearsal let out early, Riagán’s dumb arse scheduled a date tonight even though we were supposed to be practicing. I was wonderin’ if ya wanted to grab dinner or somethin?” Siofra jabbered away, talking too quickly to even notice Kit’s lack of response. When her question was met with prolonged silence, however, she didn’t hesitate to prod. “Oi! You alive over there?”

“Hm?”

“Jaysus, did you hear a word I’ve been fuckin’ sayin?” Siofra groaned.

Kit chuckled sheepishly. “Not really. Sorry. It’s not you, I’m just… tired.”

Siofra clicked her tongue. “I can tell. You sound fuckin’ terrible. Did I wake ya up or somethin’?”

“No… sort of… I’m not really sure.” Kit mumbled.

“How are ya not sure? I think you’d know if you were sleepin’.”

“You’d think…” Kit sighed, “It’s… it’s been a day. I’m just… out of it.”

“Obviously. It’s fine if you’re not up to dinner or whatever. You need to talk?” Siofra asked. She was properly concerned now - normally Kit would at least invite her over for dinner, even if he didn’t want to go out.

“No, I… I’m alright. I just need a rest.” He insisted.

Siofra wasn’t particularly convinced, but she didn’t want to pester. “Rest, then.”

“I will, once I get home.” Kit said.

“You’re not home? Where are you?” Siofra was even more worried now.

“Shopping.” Kit answered, “Julie’s birthday is coming up, I was looking for gifts for him.”

“Didja buy a truckload’o Xanax for yourself? You sound fuckin’ out of it.” Siofra fussed.

“No, I just… I’m tired. It was a long walk from the manor.”

“You walked? Why the fuck didn’t you just call Taddy?” Siofra cried.

Kit sniffled quietly. “Taddy doesn’t like me. He just puts up with me because I pay him.”

Siofra groaned. “What are you on about? He clearly likes ya, he’d get up at half four if ya needed a lift somewhere.”

“Only for the sake of the paycheck. I’m just a job for him, and a burden for everyone else.” Kit said morosely. “I had to leave Al and Julie alone this week, they have real responsibilities. They don’t need to deal with my pathetic arse on top of that.”

“Chrissakes, are you drunk or somethin’? You’re talkin’ nonsense.” Siofra muttered. “Look, where are you? I’m just about to drop Cilli at home anyway, I can come pick you up.”

Kit looked around, but he wasn’t near any street signs. “Uh… I’m… I’m downtown. By the shops.”

Siofra sighed. “Just send me your location. Put me on speaker, open our texts. I’ll walk ya through it.”

It took several minutes of “no, not that,” and muttered Gaelic curses, but eventually Kit’s location popped up on Siofra’s phone. She sighed again, this time in relief.

“Oh, you’re not far at all. I’ll be there soon. Stay put, don’t do anything stupid. Try not to get mugged.”

“I’ll try.” Kit said, squinting at the buttons on his phone. They were wobbling out of focus again, and he couldn’t figure out how to turn off speaker. Siofra saved him the trouble, hanging up so she could drive. Kit locked his phone, tucking it back in his pocket and slumping down further on the bench. He must look like the most expensive bum, he thought.

As promised, Siofra pulled up barely fifteen minutes later. Still on the bench, Kit had spaced out, staring into the middle distance beyond the street. Siofra rolled her eyes, parking the car and climbing out. She walked over and patted his cheek, shocked to find it hot to the touch.

“Oi. Time to go, Princess. I need to get ya home.” Siofra said, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand. “Lord, I really need to get ya home. You’re burnin’ up.”

“I am?” Kit asked, standing obediently when Siofra tugged on his arm. She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, you’re bloody boilin’, what are ya even doin’ out’o bed?”

“I… didn’t notice.” Kit mumbled.

Siofra sighed so hard, it made her curls bounce. “Jaysus. How do you not notice bein’ a walkin’ space heater? You’re normally a fuckin’ ice sculpture.”

Kit shrugged. “I mean… I’ve been a little cold today. I thought it was just the weather.”

“Christ…” Siofra shook her head, buckling Kit in the passenger seat. “Come on, we gotta get you in bed.”

“Can I have my special blanket?”

“Is it at yours?” Siofra asked.

Kit’s face fell. “No… I left it at Al’s.”

Siofra rolled her eyes. “I’ll call him.”

[ko-fanatic]

Growing Spoons (part two)

Rating: Teen 

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

Relationships: Eventual Kyoya x Mori

Content Warnings: Fibromyalgia, chronic pain, chronic illness, disability

Summary: Tamaki’s worrying over his friend, therefore the other hosts are worried about him; it’s not everyday you see the “king” pacing back and forth, chewing off his fingernails. Seems there’s only one person able to go check on mama...

Other works in this series: Part one

Tamaki really was freaking out this time. They could all see it in the way he paced around the clubroom, chewing his usually perfectly manicured nails down to the nub. He was always… on edge when a member of their little found family was sick, but it was rare that he was this worried. Takashi could understand why, given that Kyoya rarely missed school despite his condition, and had to be in a lot of pain.

It didn’t help that Kyoya had only managed to send a single, two-word text after a few lessons of Tamaki pulling his hair out. Just a simple, “no spoons”. No capitalisation, no punctuation. It wasn’t meant to be comprehensive, just an explanation as to why he wasn’t there so that Tamaki didn’t assume he was kidnapped and left dead in a remote ditch somewhere.

Takashi, while he felt bad for Kyoya… He almost expected it to happen soon. Perhaps not today, but Kyoya ran himself so ragged, constantly, that it was no wonder he didn’t have a single spoon. It was like in martial arts; you reserve energy for later, try and win as quickly as possible. The best fights don’t last an hour, they should take as little time as physically possible, and Kyoya was constantly fighting. Constantly exhausted, too, if the dark circles under his eyes, cutting stark through the milky pallor of his skin, were any indication. Even if he was hurting, Mori was glad he was at least taking today to rest.

“Boss, if you’re so worried then maybe you should just go,” Hikaru sighed, raking a hand through his hair, looking rather uncomfortable and out of his depth, “After all, you’re not going to charm anyone if you’re acting like you should be committed –”

Hikaru let out a grunt, cutting himself off, when Kaoru punched him in the arm. His lips pulled into a disgruntled pout, eyes narrowing on his brother, who carried on as if nothing happened; as per usual. Takashi only bit back the urge to roll his eyes, thinking through a list of possible actions they could take. As irritating as Hikaru could be, he did have a point; Tamaki stressing would only make things worse, as Kyoya would inevitably push himself to assure Tamaki he was fine – just tired – and end up making everything worse for himself.

So, who could go? Not Mitsukuni, he knew that much. Despite his love for his cousin, he remembered what it was like to be…. “cared for” by him when he last caught the flu. Honestly? He wouldn’t wish that experience on his worst enemy. It was rather annoying, if he was honest, that his older cousin couldn’t seem to do him the favour of acting his age while he was indisposed, but things were what they were.

“Should I go?” Kaoru asked, “Kyoya-senpai and I are friends after all, and I’d like to make sure he’s alright…”

“I think Kyoya-senpai would rather you stay here,” Haruhi chimed in, obviously in thought herself, “You and Hikaru are an act, and I think he’d prefer us to make as much profit as we can. It’ll take some stress off him when he goes back to budgeting again…”

“What about you, Haru-chan?” Mitsukuni piped up, his cheerful tone scraping uncomfortably against the tone of the room. While Haruhi was logical, and Mori honestly trusted her to take care of his junior, there was also the fact that they probably weren’t close enough for that. It’d just be awkward for both herself and Kyoya, probably. They got along just fine, but being so openly vulnerable in front of someone? That was different.

“I should probably stay too,” She shrugged, “I have a lot of customers booked today, so Kyoya-senpai would probably prefer it if I was here to do my job. Sooner I pay off the debt, the better, right?”

Not really, but Takashi couldn’t blame her for not noticing that.

“I can go,” He volunteered, surprising even himself with the offer. It wasn’t like he and Kyoya knew everything about each other, but they were friends. They shared comfortable silences, shoulder to shoulder as Kyoya completed whatever task he set out to do while he either read or kept an eye on Mitsukuni. He was, essentially, furniture, and so very few people would miss him for an afternoon.

“If you think Kyoya would be okay with it, Mori-senpai,” Tamaki nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. He liked having a plan in mind, even if he wasn’t that organised most of the time. He was trustworthy, also; one of those people who always seemed to get the caretaker role – not that he minded – but he was the best choice.

He simply nodded in response, shouldering his satchel once more and turned to leave, only to be stopped by a tugging on his sleeve. Turning, Mitsukuni stood there, holding a plate of rich chocolate cake in one hand. Objectively, it looked delicious, if a bit sickly; covered in a thick layer of buttercream which drowned how fluffy the expensive cake should be. It looked like it was enough to glue someone’s mouth closed. In other words, he knew exactly what his cousin would say, and he disagreed.

“You should take this for Kyo-chan!” Honey chirped. He knew it.

Kneeling down to Honey’s level, like he’d do for a child, he took a deep breath. “Mitsukuni, Kyoya-kun doesn’t enjoy sweets,” He pointed out, “There wouldn’t be any point in taking him something so sickly…”

It didn’t seem like that completely worked, unfortunately. Mitsukuni’s eyes widened, and he had the slightest hint of a glassy sheen to them. Not teary, but still not great. So, it seemed like talking like adults was off the table for today, amazing.

“But cake always makes me feel better –” Your experiences are not universal, “So Kyo-chan would like it, yes?”

Just taking it would probably be less work than dealing with him. Despite Mitsukuni being family and all, he couldn’t really be too bothered to put that much effort in at that moment. After all, he’d much rather go and make sure Kyoya was alright, rather than pandering to his cousin who honestly didn’t need it. He just nodded, accepting the cake and turning to leave, only to be stopped by Tamaki.

“Sorry, Mori-senpai,” He began, holding out a thick wad of paper, “Would you mind giving this to him? I did my best to get as much information down without using shorthand, so he’ll be able to use them…”

At least that was actually needed. He took the papers, neatly sliding the papers into the satchel, attempting not to bend or tear them. While he tended to accidentally crumple loose papers in his bag – the reason why he preferred binders and books – he knew that Kyoya would like the neatest copy possible. After all, they’d all seen how prettily he liked to keep his notes and reminders; bullet journals and the like crowded a few bookshelves, a pot plant or two adding a “splash of colour” to the admittedly minimalist room.

“Oh, Mori-senpai… Maybe you could give Kyoya this? For me?” Kaoru asked, handing him a large t-rex plush that he seemed to have scavenged from the back room. He couldn’t remember Mitsukuni having such a thing, but he supposed that after these few years, host club themes get a little hazy in your memory.  

It was soft in his hands, baby blue fabric fuzzy and intermittently patterned with green. A goofy looking thing, really. Its jaw was slightly crooked, felt teeth laying flat against its red gums and tongue, and its eyes almost looked crossed, despite being on the sides of its head. The body seemed to be decently sewn together, but it was just kind of… ugly and unnecessary. After all, it was Kyoya, and the only one who had these “gifts”, who seemed to be remembering that, was surprisingly Tamaki. Still, he tucked the toy under his arm, not wanting to upset Kaoru and have Hikaru coming after him; it’d be easier to just get going.

Pushing open the doors to the music room, a sea of clientele almost swamped him, asking if he was going to see Kyoya and (horror of all horrors) if he could take these “very special”, handmade, get well soon cards to him. It was a sweet gesture, but he really wasn’t in the mood to carry all those ultimately meaningless things. Still, he accepted every one, shifting the heavy stacks around in his arms in an attempt to balance them all.

Luckily, the sea of fans parted, allowing him to walk through with a few nods of acknowledgement, making his way down the mostly abandoned halls and out of the front door… to remember that he and Mitsukuni walked to and from school. There wasn’t a car, and he didn’t really fancy calling one up for something ultimately small; knowing that the staff had actual tasks to complete without pandering to his whims.

Besides, there was a bus stop not too far down the road. He’d seen Haruhi use the bus before, and it seemed simple enough…