Work Text:
When George was in Advanced English, he had to write an essay, three pages, font size set to twelve, and in Times New Roman, about his lavender. Each paragraph needed at least twelve sentences long, grammatically correct and it needed to flow easily. He read over the prompt on the white board, more times than he could imagine, trying to think of that one person in his life.
Lavender: The person you met and instantly clicked with. They walked into your life like they’ve always been there. They’re the sweetest. Most genuine person you’ve ever laid your eyes on. They inspire you. Their presence brings out the best in you. The person who makes you laugh until your stomach hurts. The person you could talk to until your voice goes raw. The person who you could tell your deepest, most sacred secret.
Your goal is to construct a three-page essay about this person. It has to be on a person you know or knew, living or dead, in this country or not. You have until the end of this quarter to get it in. Final major grade. If you have any questions, email me or come in after class.
George was stuck. There was no one in his life like that. He didn’t have friends; he wasn’t all that close to his family. He could fake it, pretend that there was someone so important in his life that he could write a three-page essay on. He could write it about his dad. He was closer to him than his mom anyway. Or his little sister but she never talks to him despite living in the same house. His brother pretends George simply doesn’t exist, and his mom just gets on his nerves.
He leaned back in his chair and read the prompt again.
After reading it twice more and taking a picture of the board, he started to type on his computer.
“I don’t have a Lavender. I haven’t met that person yet. I don’t have a best friend, or a family member that actually enjoys my presence. It sounds more depressing than it actually is, I prefer to be alone. I like the company of myself. I could say I’m my own Lavender in a way.”
George had written a bunch of fake scenarios between him and some random person he had created on the spot. It got him an A, which was all he could ask for.
At the end of the quarter, his teacher stood at the front of the classroom.
“Go ahead and fold your papers three times. Hotdog style, please,” His teacher smiled and leaned on the wall... George did as he was told, biting his lip at the A+ that was circled in red at the top of his paper disappear, “Go ahead and put it in the envelope. Write your name and address,” It was silent in the class, the only thing heard was the sound of pencils being scribbled on paper. “In just 7 years, these essays and your letters to your future self will be sent to you. You’ll get to read it over and by then, you guys will be in your mid-twenties, possibly married, possibly not. Maybe in a relationship, maybe not. If you haven’t met that person yet, you most definitely will in the next few years.”
“What if we still haven’t?” A boy that sat directly in front of George asked.
“Your lavender doesn’t have to be romantic,” His teacher rubbed his beard, “When I was your guys’ age, my lavender would have been a girl named Clara. She was lovely. Always smiling, always laughing. She came up to me in the library. She quickly became a sort of… comfort to me.”
“Do you still talk to her?”
“No. And that’s okay. Deep down, she’ll always remain the person who gave me the fresh breath of air when I needed it most.”
And seven years later, George had just turned off his PC, finishing up a stream he promised to do, and fell flat on his bed. The sun was still high in Orlando, a beautiful day to go out and maybe take a drive, go to the beach or eat out. But George was hiding. Hiding from humanity, hiding from the world.
A gentle knock on his door made him groan and hide his face into his pillow. He was tired and his body was craving a nap, craving to ruin his sleep schedule, “George.”
“Dream. Leave me alone, let me sleep.”
“You got mail, though.”
“Okay? Leave it on my desk and come cuddle,” He whined. He took his head out from underneath the pillow and stared at his boyfriend, “Please?”
“You just told me to leave you alone though,” Dream teased, tossing the mail on his desk and crawled onto the bed, giggling at the pout on George’s lips. After kissing it away and kissing around George’s face which got a smile out of it, plopped down on George. “How was the stream?”
“It was okay,” George yawned, letting Dream move around to get comfortable, “Long, is all.”
Dream hummed.
“What about you? Did you release the video?”
“Yeah,” He sighed. The dark eye bags under his green eyes made George’s heart clench. “‘M tired.”
“That’s not surprising, love,” George whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head, “You need to take better care of yourself.”
“That’s why I have you and Sapnap,” He yawned again, the warm air hitting his neck, “You guys take care of me.”
“And we always will, but with the way you work, you’re gonna make yourself sick one of these days.”
“Maybe,” Dream snuggled closer to George, “It’s fine.”
“It’s far from fine.”
“Shhh,” Dream leaned up to hover over George’s frame, “I’m fine.”
“The bags under your eyes tell a whole other story, Dream.”
Dream was looking at George like he was the only living person in the universe. Like he was a fragile creature, like he was God’s perfect creation. He looked at him with so much love, admiration, and warmth. Like he could do no wrong. He tilted his head, blond hair flopping in front of his eyes, “I’m so in love with you.”
A soft blush rose to George’s cheeks, dusting over his nose, “ Dream .”
He placed a loving kiss on his lips.
“I’m okay,” He whispered against his lips, “I promise,” Another kiss, “Promise.”
George loves kissing Dream. In the past month of living in Orlando, he’s grown to absolutely adore the younger’s kisses. Whether it be on his lips, cheeks or neck, it’s something he could never get sick of. The way he always tastes like his watermelon Chapstick, how he’ll always be gentle, never rushing or forcing. It was comforting. Everything about Dream brings George comfort.
How he laughs, how he hugs, how he feels. It’s pure euphoria.
The kisses trailed down to his neck, to his collarbones where no one would see the marks he left. Licking, biting at the flesh, enough to make George gasp. Fingers tangled into blond hair, pulling the boy closer, aching for his touch. Dream let out a small whine, letting George pull him back up by his hair, into another loving kiss. He loved the feeling of their tongues brushing together, for just a split second, before it was back to just lips.
“I love you so much, Dream,” Was the first thing he said when they broke apart. Dream’s face turned beat red, from the six words that were said. George snickered at the redness to Dream’s face and, albeit still breathless, pulled him in for another short kiss, “You’re awfully cute when you’re flustered.”
Dream groaned, hiding his face against George’s neck, “You’re an idiot.”
George laughed, tangling his fingers in his hair yet again and sighed, “Go to sleep, darling. You deserve it.”
--
It was past eight o’clock when George woke up. Dream was still knocked out, his face pressed against George’s chest, cheeks red, lips slightly parted. George took his fingers out of his hair and reached over to grab his phone.
8:18 PM
George thumbed through the notifications on his phone. Sapnap went live an hour ago, playing Valorant with Punz, Karl posted a selfie on Twitter, and Quackity sent him a few texts. After responding to Quackity (who was just asking him to be on his stream tomorrow), he replaced his body with a pillow for Dream and rolled out of bed.
He turned on a lamp that was on his desk, letting the room glow a soft orange. He sat down with a heavy sigh, booted up his PC and started to look through the mail that Dream put on his desk four hours ago. Most of it had just been coupons that would have been useless in America, but there was one envelope with his own handwriting scribbled on the front.
June 19, 2015
He frowned and tore the envelope open. Inside were two pieces of paper, folded neatly. He took them out and the first one he unfolded made his jaw drop.
Seven years ago, Mr. Fane set the expo marker down and faced the front of the class. “Today’s going to be an easy day. You all are working on your essays, but I’m also going to have you guys write a letter to your future self. Written on the board is the guide you can follow or go off of your own guide. This is a booster grade because lord knows some of you need it. It just needs to be a paragraph long, but if you write more, I’ll give out some extra credit.”
Dear future self: Where do you see yourself in 7 years? Do you still want to live in this country? Do you want to be married, have kids? Are you in college or have you graduated? Did you go to college at all? Ask your future self questions that you can answer when this gets sent out to you.
“It’s due tomorrow. It can be finished in the hour and a half you guys have but if for some reason you don’t finish it, it’s due first thing tomorrow,” He looked around the class, “Questions?”
“Will you read them?” Asked one girl, Oliva.
Mr. Fane shook his head with a smile, “No. These are your personal essays. Tomorrow, I’ll call you up to my desk, show me the paper and as long as it meets the requirements, it’s going to be an A in the gradebook. Once you’re done with that, I’m going to have you guys fold it and put it in an envelope. That envelope will go straight into my filing cabinet, and it won’t be touched until the Lavender essay is due,” he leaned against the wall, “Anything else?”
George looked down at his blank paper. He twirled his pencil around and plugged his headphones in when Mr. Fane sat down. This was easier than the Lavender essay. (Which he has yet to start, by the way)
Dear George in 2022,
A letter to my future self. Wow. How is the future? Is it cool? New technology? I know you want to work with computers when you graduate from this dumbass school. That would be kinda cool. Or like, coding. You’ve always been good at coding. You’ve never been quite interesting. Do you have any friends? Because 2015 George is a lonely and depressing boy. So, like, if you could have at least a friend or two that would be nice. I fantasize about that a lot. Having friends. I mean, like… My phone right now is so embarrassingly dry. I’d like to have at least one person text me other than my sister. You know? And how are mom and dad? Are they still fighting? Are they still together? Because I’m quite literally watching their marriage fall apart as we speak. They make me doubt love sometimes. Love. Ooh are you in a relationship? I feel like I’m too awkward for that. Are you less awkward or still the same amount of awkward? It’s a valid question.
Have you found your Lavender?
Are you happy?
I really hope you are.
You deserve it.
We deserve it.
George set the letter down and fished out the Lavender essay. The A+ was still circled with a bright red marker. The essay was stapled together, more than three pages (it was more like five), filled with words, emotions, fantasies that 18-year-old George could only dream of having.
“I don’t have a Lavender. I haven’t met that person yet. I don’t have a best friend, or a family member that actually enjoys my presence. It sounds more depressing than it actually is, I prefer to be alone. I like the company of myself. I could say I’m my own Lavender in a way. I was going to write this about my dad, and while I’m close to him, I’m not close to him. I can’t write about my mom because all we do is fight, and my siblings like to pretend I don’t exist, so I’ve decided to write short stories about future friendships and relationships I hope to have one day. Because maybe one day, when I leave this town, this country, I’ll find my person. My Lavender. I’m not sure where I want to go. I’m not good at learning new languages so maybe I’ll stick somewhere where English is the main language. But we’ll get into that. In this essay, I’m going to talk about traveling. Cooking. Spending the holidays with loved ones. Learning what it’s like to be loved, to give love. Because Hell. I deserve it.”
George flipped to the second page, where he talked about wanting to visit Florida. How he wanted to feel the sand between his feet and the wind in his hair. He wanted to see the palm trees and the glittering water. He wanted to hold hands with his partner, take a walk on the beach, eat ice cream on the pier and ride the Ferris wheel. He smiled to himself because he and Dream did that when he first moved to Florida.
Right below that paragraph was traveling the world with at least two of his friends. He wanted to see beyond London, he wanted to go to different countries, try different foods. He wanted to try and learn a different language even though he would be terrible at it. And that excited him. Because once Covid gets somewhat contained, he, Dream and Sapnap were planning on visiting Greece.
The third page and two paragraphs about platonic soulmates. He loved the idea of long road trips with his best friend. Getting to take car rides at 3 AM, blasting music as they sped down the freeway. He talked about going to the beach just before the sun rose so they could watch the sunrise and then get breakfast before sleeping for who knows how long. George talked about spending the holidays with them, getting to go visit their family instead of his, celebrating stupid American traditions. He rambled about emotional things like being able to come out to them and being accepted for once. The feeling of acceptance, the feeling of “You’re still you. My perspective of you will never change,” and how much those words can mean to someone who never had that kind of validation.
The smile never left because that was Sapnap. Sapnap said those words when he came crying to him over Discord, rambling about how he’s just confused, and Dream is confusing to him and that his parents will never be accepting of him. And Sapnap listened. And then said those words that sent George in a spiral.
He had finally found his people.
After turning in those papers, he never thought of them again. He went on with his life, graduating college and started streaming with his two best friends. As he grew, the more friends he got. So to answer 2015 George-
He was so fucking happy.
And he had more friends than he could count, and an amazing boyfriend who understands his emotions and is brighter than the fucking sun.
George looked at his PC, and immediately went to Google. He first went to his Gmail, and then searched up his old school’s website. It was an easy find. He was able to find Mr. Fane on the teachers tab and found his email. It was kind of creepy being able to find people’s information so easily on the internet, especially if they’re teachers.
But George brushed those thoughts to the side and started typing out an email.
From: George <[email protected]>
Date: February 14, 2022
To: Jonathan Fane <[email protected]>
Subject: Lavender
Mr. Fane,
Seven years ago, you had us compose two things: A letter to our future selves, and our Lavender essays. I just received mine in the mail, granted, my mother had to send it out to me since I’m now living in Florida with my two best friends that I met over the summer after graduation. I don’t know if you remember me, but I was in your sixth period English class. I didn’t have a “person” like you, you had Clara, boys had their girlfriends, girls had their boyfriends. People had friends, and I didn’t have that. So, I composed short stories that I would hope would come true one day. I wrote some about my platonic soulmate and my romantic one.
I’ve been living in Florida for the past month with Sapnap and Dream. They mean the world to me and so much more. Sapnap, he’s a big ball of energy. His laughter is contagious, he always listens to me and my problems. Before I could ever admit that I was a part of the lgbt community, I would go to him of all people and he would never interrupt me, he would never push me to talk. He would sit in discord and listen to all my conflicted feelings, all of my conflicted feelings regarding Dream and my parents and my little sister and my older brother. I didn’t know how any of them would react, so I talked to Sapnap. He’s one of my go to people.
Sapnap’s like my little brother. There are so many clips of us going around on Twitter where we’re just screaming bloody murder at each other. For once this isn’t me trying to promote myself, this is me just trying to get my point across. Anyway, Online Sapnap and Private Sapnap are two very different people. That goes for all of my streamer friends, but Online Sapnap is chaotic. He says lewd things, he says such random things to get people to laugh, or he’ll be shockingly endearing. He’ll make jokes about me and Dream to our group chat with our three other friends, and I’ll make jokes right back about him and his stupid little boy crush on Karl (one of those three friends) and we’ll go back and forth.
I’ll never say any of that to him, but I appreciate him more than he knows.
As for Dream…
I’m in love with him. He knows that. I’m writing this email as he’s fast asleep on my bed. We’ve officially been together for over eight months, after years of pining and disgusting flirting on streams and our night calls, I can officially say he’s mine and I’m his. Not that any of our fans know, but deep down, they’ve always known. And Dream’s not subtle. He has a fanart page dedicated to all of the artists in our community and half of the things he likes is fanart of the two of us. I think it’s rather cute of him. He’s expressive of his love, and because we’re not out, he has to find a way to do it.
And that doesn’t stop him from having an embarrassingly fond voice whenever he mentions me or mentioning me every two seconds. He’ll flaunt how he bought me different skins for different games, or how we had synced up our sleep schedules when I was still living in London.
Dream is an easily loveable person.
He goes out of his way to make his family happy, to make me and Sapnap feel comfortable in Florida since we packed everything up and moved to the state where he’s from. He tries to make everyone around him happy, even when he’s not happy himself. And sometimes it pains me to see him put others first before himself. I wish he would know that it’s okay to take some time for himself, but he loves so strongly that he’ll never be able to do that. He’ll ruin his mental health, stay up night after night working on projects and working on merch designs and working on codes for video ideas. Part of it has to do with his ADHD brain, I get that, but part of it has to do with the fact that he feels guilty.
He feels such an urge to give the fans content due to the fact that he never streams. He drops off of the face of planet earth to work on editing his videos, to make them perfect, to make sure there are no flaws. Most of the time, he’ll stay up for the premiers on YouTube, but he’ll fall asleep before he can get through the countdown. I know this because it literally just happened. He came into my room to drop off the mail (which had the Lavender essay in the pile) and fell right on my bed and fell asleep. My poor boy with the bags under his eyes and his fried brain.
He means the whole goddamn world to me. And I wish I was more expressive with my love, and I know he knows my love is strong for him, but I want to show him off to the world. I want to scream from the rooftops that Dream is My boy. But until that day comes, I’ll love him quietly online. I’ll praise him in person, I’ll give him unconditional love until he grows sick of me because he deserves it. He deserves the world, Mr. Fane, but the world simply does not deserve him. He’s so kind, so considerate, and he receives cruel words, threats and it's enough to send him over the edge sometimes. I hate to get personal, especially about my boyfriend, but I cannot express enough how much I want to shield him from the world, shower him with love. Show him how he deserves to be loved.
Mr. Fane, I don’t mean to dump this all on you and I’m sure you have better things to do than read about my love life. You were my favorite teacher in that hellhole of a school (no offense) and… I guess I just thought I’d send you a small life update.
I found my Lavender(s).
Dream and Sapnap, my two people, my two soulmates.
I hope things are going well for you. I also hope you managed to contact Clara. I’m sure that reunion was a tearjerker. I better get back to Dream before he wakes up. Thank you for allowing me to rant. You’ve changed my perspective of life, truly.
With love,
George D.
George hit send and went back to the bed. He slowly got underneath the covers and stared at Dream. Even like this, fast asleep, he looked so… beautiful. With gentle fingers, he brushed his hair out of his face, and slowly traced over his eye bags.
“You’re staring.”
George smiled, “You’re just pretty.”
Dream opened his eyes and gave his boyfriend a tired smile, “Says you.”
George brushed his thumb over his lips this time, “Can I tell you something?”
“‘Course,” He kissed his finger and rolled on his back. George took that as an invitation to climb onto his lap and straddle his waist. “Is it going to explain why you were on your computer typing an entire essay?”
George grinned down at him, “In my final year of high school, I had this teacher. His name was Mr. Fane. He had us write a three-page paper about our Lavender.”
“What the hell is a Lavender?”
George ran his fingers through his messy bedhead, “Lavender is the person you meet and instantly clicked with. They walked into your life like they’ve always been there. They’re the sweetest. Most genuine person you’ve ever laid your eyes on. They inspire you. Their presence brings out the best in you. The person who makes you laugh until your stomach hurts. The person you could talk to until your voice goes raw. The person who you could tell your deepest, most sacred secret,” George recited the prompt that had been engraved in his head.
“Who did you write about?”
“That’s the thing,” George said, “I never had any friends in school. I didn’t date until college; I didn’t write it about my parents or siblings because I’ve never been close to them. So, I wrote a bunch of short stories and just… small fantasies I had about what it would be like to have a friend or a partner. The essay was supposed to be 3 pages long. But I wrote 5 pages, long paragraphs about love, and friendship, and being able to travel the world, and being able to take long ass car rides in the middle of the night and how it would feel like to be accepted... I-I never had those things growing up, but I do now. Because I have you and Sapnap. You guys are my Lavender. You guys just… make me happy. Or whatever.”
Dream blinked up at him. Quiet. Thinking.
George slouched, “You have thinking eyes.”
“You’re… I’m your Lavender? Me and Sapnap?”
“...Yeah.”
“How? Why?”
George twisted his lips, “You guys just bring out the best in me. Always want me to try ‘n’ everything. Before I moved, you two would always sleep call with me, and make sure I wasn’t like, overly depressed when I saw everyone visit America. Sapnap was the first person that I told that I liked boys and you and he said things to me that I’ve never heard from anyone. I felt loved by him and I felt loved by you. Being around you two is just… it’s like the first breath of air when your heads have been under water? If that… makes any sense, Dream I don’t know you guys are just my people, okay and I have a lot of love for you both.”
Dream, despite being utterly exhausted, lit up like a Christmas tree. His heart grew warm, and his love for the man on his lap grew tenfold. George was an angel. And even though he struggled with expressing his feelings and got flustered towards the end of his grand speech, and all Dream could do was kiss him because fuck, George was perfect. He was perfection and he was all Dream’s (and Sapnap’s. Since he has to share) and Dream really couldn’t be more in love.
--
(From: Jonathan Fane <[email protected]>
Date: February 16, 2022
To: George <[email protected]>
Subject: re: Lavender
George,
Wowwww wow wow wow! You went from a shy, quiet boy in my Advanced English class to a popular Twitch streamer… The happiness I feel for you is rich. And on top of all of that, you found your people. Now, excuse the creepy stalker-ish content I’m about to say, but you found FIVE (!!!!!) people and more. You obviously have Dream and Sapnap, but then there’s Karl, Quackity and BadBoyHalo. Do you know how rare that is? How rare it is to find such great people? People who want nothing but the best for you. Who actually sticks by your side for more than five years? Not many people find that kind of love, George. But you did. You thought that kind of love was impossible to find. That the people who find that strong, deep connection would never last. You found your people. So, hold onto them. Never let them go. Appreciate them. Cherish them. The way they appreciate and cherish you.
Dream and Sapnap huh? Lots of interesting names going on around here, but I appreciate the creativity! They sound wonderful. Dream sounds like he really does love you. And even if it was an unrequited love (which it clearly is not) I don’t think he would ever lose the strong love he has for you. Keep them in your life, George. Don’t you ever let them go. Those two especially. Even through all the fights, through the disagreements and everything in between, they’re always going to love you.
I know it sounds awfully repetitive and I apologize. I’ve received numerous emails over the past week, about how they’ve found their lavender, but you truly stuck out. I don’t think I’ve been happier to receive your email. I’m so utterly proud of you, George. You found your people. Your Lavender(s).
And as for me-
I reached out to Clara a year after your class graduated and it was the best decision of my life. We got married in 2020, right before the pandemic hit. We had a kid, a gorgeous little girl, her name is Willow Jane. Clara works for a law firm, fighting for equality and all that, and I couldn’t be prouder of her. And on top of that, we’re expecting again! A boy! The due date is sometime in June. We’ve already decided on a name.
Azriel.
Az for short, but she’s always loved that name and I did pick Willow, so she got to pick this name. And I fucking love it.
I’m happy for you, George. I really am.
With so much love,
Mr. Fane.
PS: One day, one of these days, you will be able to show Dream off to the entire world. You’ll get that rooftop moment. Just be patient with it. Communicate. Get to know how he’s feeling, get to know how you’re feeling. And when you come to a conclusion, let me know. I’ll be your guys’ number one supporter.)
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