#I ended up burning myself out doing 3 full fics in 3 days and not rly getting any feedback after a month/2 hiatus which is on me for doing

[collectivecloseness]

I need to write some big fruity four angst, like I am just absolutely foaming at the mouth for some good f4 angst, and I wanna write it with a hunger. Please fill my inbox with fruity four angst I need to talk about it with everyone so bad

[wayfayrr]

it's been declared that my blog is the go-to, to post the drunken late-night (for me anyway) crack fics

anyway this spiraled at 4am on a very long lasting discord call and both myself and @angry-trashcan wrote it in about an hour, it's catboy wild and wars with reader in their home <3 enjoy!

“Wild please for the love of everything holy, get down from the counter top.”  He didn’t listen, instead sitting himself down on top of the stove next. “One day, and one day soon, that thing will be on and burn your bottom. And I will laugh.”

“Not when you’re the one facing the bills.”

“Link.”

“Yes, my partner in crime?”

He’s not moving any time soon unless I do something, and it’s not like I don’t already know he’s incredibly light. Lifting him up so that he can wrap his legs and arms around me is easy enough. 

“See? Isn’t that so much better already?”

 “Better for you and your wallet maybe-”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” He laughed, a hand to the back of his head, ears twitching wildly.

I looked at him for a hard moment, eyes running over his face. “Uh-huh.” I rolled my eyes playfully, turning back to the stove. “I’m gonna make dinner. Can you go get Wars and tell him it’ll be done quickly so hurry it up.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Hmm? But I thought you didn’t like me holding you?”

His grip got a little tighter at that, his head nuzzling into the crook of my neck like he’s trying to get as close as possible and succeeding. 

“When did I say that?”

“Well with your little comment about my wallet?”

“You know what I meant.”

The way he ended that with a small nip at my collarbone is proof enough of his words.

His feet hit the floor and he turned towards the living room to go get Wars. At least, I thought he was. The loud scream of the other boy’s name startled me, getting a scream of my own to carry through the house. 

“Wild!”

His shoulders rose to his ears, face bright red as he slowly turned back to face you. “...yes?”

“I asked you to go get him not shout for him, I could’ve done that from here.”

Not even words, just a redfaced pout as he turned to run off to go and wake him up from his very likely nap. Then seconds later he simply comes back out of breath and makes grabby hands at me to pick him back up. Not that I can say no, but he’s gotta start learning better manners. 

“You’re spoiled rotten I hope you know that.”

He hums out a happy noise as I pick him up to let him wrap his legs around my waist once again. “You better be helping me with dinner if you’re going to hang off of me like this.”

“Why would I do that?”

I rolled my eyes again, glancing over to see Wars coming into the kitchen. “Dinner will be done soon. Would be quicker if someone would let me cook.”

A gasp. “I am your moral support! You wouldn’t be able to make dinner without me!”

“I wouldn’t be able to make a dinner without hair in it, maybe.”

“I think you know full well that I could.”

“Mmh… full well you could what?”

Oh he really was asleep then, and now he’s winding his arms around me where wild isn’t clinging onto me. Great, I’ve got even less movement to cook properly now. The feeling of his purrs as his head is on my shoulder is nice though.

“Wars please, not you too.”

“Do you really not like it love?”

“I didn’t say that, did I?”

“I kinda sounded like it.”

“Wild, not you too.” I sighed, reaching down to turn off the stove. “Fine, let's order take out. Come on now, to the couch.”

Wild practically leapt off of you, rushing to get the best spot on the couch before Wars could. 

“Can we get seafood?” Wars mumbles.

“Would I dare try to feed either of you anything else?”

“I don’t know, I’d like to try some of that fancy wagyu sometime.”

“Wild.”

“Yes?”

“No.”

[lacyscabinet]

Nat comes back from hunting, and reader isn't there, and everyone didn't see her, and then Nat finds her in the small shack where shauna usually was with Jackie's body

Reader was huddled up with the sharpest knife, and it was covered in blood

(Basically reader was gonna commit)

I NEED ANGSTY 😓😓

SORRY IF THIS TRIGGERS :(

A/N: thank you for this request <3, as someone who has struggled and still struggles with sh, I feel like I need to spread a little message through this note, you are enough, I know that everybody says that, and I know that you might think it's pathetic, but it's true, it doesn't matter if you failed a test, broke up with your s/o, messed something up , did anything you regret doing or even not doing, or if you just don't feel like sticking around anymore, only one thing doesn't have a remedy. I struggle to believe it myself sometimes but in the end there is always something worth living for. Think about it. Emotional pep talk over, sorry for rambling, hope you'll like this fic<3

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS : knives, attempted suicide, suicidal ideation, depression, sh, blood

You're losing me

Another day hunting, another day without finding any game, everyone was starving back at the cabin, and the frustration Nat felt was sickening.

And the team worshipping Lottie and going as far as saying that Lottie was providing more food than her made Natalie see red.

Travis wasn't helping much these days, grieving his little brother, long story short, everyone was on edge, you more than anyone else.

Nobody really knew how much you were struggling, you tried to open up with Natalie once and she didn't really catch up on the way you felt, she just thought you were really sad that day and comforted you.

But it was deeper than that, at first when you all got stranded, you were full of life, hopeful to get rescued and go on with your life, but as the days, the weeks and the moths went by, the bright glimmer in your eyes dimmed gradually, only leaving a hint of emotions when you cried, you felt drained, tired and sick, not the type of tired that a good night of sleep could fix and not the type of sick that painkillers could tame.

And then, with all the things you've seen, all the things you did, it was all in order to survive of course, but you still did it, you did it.

As time went by you started to think about the way you would be way more useful if you died, not only you wouldn't have to eat food, leaving more for your teammates, but you also would become food, and a part of you hoped that someday you'll become useful to the others.

You thought and you even dreamed about it, not feeling pain anymore, not being completely useless anymore, and one day, you took matters into your own hands.

That day, a shivering Natalie, fresh out of another failed hunt, looked for you in the cabin, simply to spend some time with you since she was gone in the snow the whole day, she searched and searched but you were nowhere to be seen.

"Mari? Have you seen Y/N" Natalie asked the girl who was busy cooking something definitely not nutritious enough to make the team feel full, Mari shrugged "I saw her this morning, she was going out, I thought she was looking for you"

Nat frowned, thanking Mari and going into the living room, a bunch of the girls sat there around the fire, and of course, you weren't there

"God..." Shauna spoke up, looking around the room "Has anyone seen my knife? I think I lost it"

The others shrugged as Natalie reached for the door, searching for you outside.

She was used to the ironically burning cold, but still, it wasn't pleasant.

Walking around the outside of the cabin she couldn't help but curse you and hope you were okay at the same time.

After a faint noise she froze in her spot, paying attention to her surroundings, and then her eyes widened when she heard a loud sob.

Looking around, she realized that there was only one place the cries could come from, the tiny wooden shelter next to the cabin.

As she walked closer to it the noises just got louder and louder, and she was sure that it was you, she could recognize your voice everywhere after all, but "why is she crying?" Nat kept thinking.

When she entered the shed, she couldn't believe her eyes, yes, you were there, but Shauna's knife was there as well, covered in blood.

At first her mind wanted to believe that you found game on your way to join Nat in her daily hunt, and you were just cutting up pieces of deer meat, but when she noticed your sleeves rolled up and deep vertical slits on your wrists all the hope in her mind was gone.

She was losing you.

And you yourself, couldn't feel a thing, after the painful cuts, you found a certain peace in the warm feeling of blood pouring out of your veins, a bold contrast compared to the freezing weather.

Nat cursed, she was shocked, but she knew that she couldn't allow herself to be in shock, she had to help, she had to do something .

She was losing you.

"Hey! Hey! Can you hear me? Please baby, can you hear me?" She cried out kneeling next to your body

You weren't completely unconscious, wobbling between the two worlds, and in a moment of consciousness, the only thing you could say was "Nat..."

She instantly replied, eagerly trying to get some more words from you "What baby?"

"You can... when it's time, you can...you can eat me, you have my permission...please do it Nat, you deserve to live"

Natalie couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth "No, no, don't say that, you are gonna be okay, you're gonna be fine"

And in that moment your vision went black.

She lost you.

For three hours. The worst three hours of her life.

As soon as you passed out, she picked you up and brought you back inside.

After seeing your conditions everyone was alarmed, Tai quickly stitched you up as best as she could, and then Nat proceeded to clean you up from all the blood you lost.

Coach Ben let the girls lay you down in his small room, and after that they all collectively decided to leave you alone with Nat for a while.

She held your hand the whole time, clinging to the feeling that you weren't gone, you couldn't be gone, your heart was still beating, a faint beating, but it was working.

When you opened your eyes, she was there, squeezing your hand with her own, eyes closed and a tear stained face

Just like in the movies you thought, but you weren't in a safe hospital at the end of a movie, you were at the start of your little personal hell.

And even when she held you tightly after she noticed your wide eyes, you couldn't help but wish you were somewhere else.

After all, maybe she really lost you that day.

A/N: I think I just poured my soul into this fic. Hope you enjoyed, stay safe <3

[im-not-samantha-im-samanta]

I’d like to request PIB Death’s reaction to his GN!s/o coming up to him one day and booping his nose. I’ve been thinking about this a lot haha-

Hello there! ^^

Thank you for your request, it's a very cute idea! Though truth be told, I struggled with this one so much - I couldn't figure out how Death would react! Not to mention I hated whatever I wrote-

Also, so sorry for how long it took me to write this, like I've said, I been struggling with this one BUT also been struggling mentally, so yeah. (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

I also just read a good fic with Death, then read this one I wrote and realized I'm not good at portraying Death...yeah imma end myself now (⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠෴⁠ ⁠༎ຶ⁠)(⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠෴⁠ ⁠༎ຶ⁠).

Anyways, I couldn't really decide if I wanted to do imagines or a fic, but ended up going with a short fic... or more like... a drabble? (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)

I kind of experimented with my style, felt like adding it a different feel. Hope y'all like this one nonetheless! ^^"

___________________________________________

{Death, his s/o, and nose boops}

Settings: I don't think I specified it throughout the story. Though a bit more of a romantic vibe, I think?

Genre: Pure fluff! :3

!TRIGGER WARNING!: Don't think there's any! Maybe just brief talks of life, mortality and death, but that's to be expected with Muerte ^^,

Sidenote: Reader is written as gender neutral, but if they might have a more female feel then it's purely unintentional and I apologize!

Sidenote: I've never written full fluff fic (or more like drabble) before , so I hope I did well ^^"

-

That should be all, muffins! Feel free to read now ^^.

Hope you'll enjoy <3.

___________________________________________

Death was old as time itself.

A sad but an important part of life, he's been here since the very start.

And so, he's seen everything.

He's been there, done that, seen that, heard that,...

Yeah, he's seen everything, and it was hard to surprise Death.

Or at least, that's what he liked to claim, completely unaware of what tricks up your sleeve you, a mere mortal, still had.

And only now, when the two of you were peacefully sitting on the couch in the living room, did he face the truth that he, in fact, has not seen all after all.

You were up to something for sure, otherwise there'd be no reason for that rascally smile on your face as you slowly extended your hand towards Death, your pointer finger outstretched and aiming for Death's nose or so it seemed.

Death said nothing at that behaviour, after all, now that he was with you, he knew firsthand that mortals- humans especially - were weird creatures.

And so, he let you do your thing, having too much adoration for you to stop you.

Not to mention, a curious creature was Death, and intrigued by your actions, he just watched with a raised eyebrow and a smirk as your finger slowly neared his nose.

Then your finger was closer and closer and-

"Boop!" squeaking out in voice of high pitch, your finger tapped his nose, squishing it.

Then dead silence fell upon you.

Death was quiet, saying nothing at all.

His pointy ears had perked up though, his eyes of crimson wide as he seemed to be processing the action you'd just done.

And you had no idea what reaction to expect now.

Death was unpredictable, and figuring out his next move was something you had never succeeded in.

Nobody has, not even once.

And when the dead silence went on, filling the room like a thick fog, you couldn't help but retreat your hand and offer a nervous, meek smile.

You weren't scared of course, you knew your dear Lobo wouldn't bring you no harm, not now not ever.

But that uncertainty of what he'd do still left you wary after all.

Much to your luck, though, Death spoke at last.

"What... what was that you just did?" he questioned and a light grin stretched across his face, ruby red eyes wide and intrigued.

The expression was somewhat an unsettling one.

Death's eyes all wide, glowing, burning like wildfire, his razor sharp teeth all exposed by his twisted grin.

And combined with his massive stature and eerie aura, one could easily feel preyed upon...

But the word 'scared' did not describe how you felt at that moment.

You weren't scared, you knew better than to be distrustful of the wolf.

You trusted him fully, you didn't fear him even when he gazed at you like that.

You weren't scared.

Not when, with enough attention paid, you could notice Death's tail wagging ever so slightly.

And not when you had another giveaway of him being just intrigued by your action with no side motives - he intensely sniffed the air through his big nose with light growls rumbling in his throat.

Again, this action could seem intimidating to anyone else and could make them uneasy, but you knew that this action meant no danger - in your case that is.

In your case, you'd say it was something like when dogs panted happily when something caught their interest.

In other cases, mostly when it came to people who were reckless with their life or when it came to people who hurt others, this action had similar, but much more dangerous and terrifying meaning...

Well anyways, with that you knew you were in no real danger.

Although you still needed to be a bit cautious about what Death would do.

It could range from shrugging it off to starting a hunt with you being the prey.

"Oh... I... booped your nose...?" you answered and offered an awkward smile, unsure whether or not Death would be familiar with such term.

You didn't count on that much though.

"You... booped... my nose?" Death repeated after you, the term unfamiliar for his tongue.

And that eyebrow raise was enough for you to know your dear Lobo's never heard such word. Yet, his grin still remained the same - sly, intrigued.

Death added nothing more though, and only stared at you with his wide eyes that made you feel in the story of Little Red Riding Hood when The Big Bad Wolf stared at the little girl with wide eerie gaze, and the girl uttered those famous words: "But Grandmother, what big eyes you have!".

You wondered where your own story would lead to if you uttered those exact words to your Big Bad Wolf... Your Lobo feroz...

Nonetheless, you got the silent hint, and went ahead to elaborate what it meant to boop someone's nose.

"It's when you affectionately tap or squish someone's nose and say a 'boop'." you explained softly, smiling meekly.

Then taking a note of that light head tilt and eyebrow raise Death did at your words, you added: "It's a show of endearment,".

"It's a show of endearment," Death repeated after you as if checking he's heard correct, his voice holding a quality you couldn't really pinpoint.

Was it amusement you heard? confusion? disbelief? something else? It was hard to tell.

And then, Death fell silent once again.

It was silent again, and you weren't sure of what to do, Death being way too hard to figure out at the very moment - just like most times...

Hesitantly, you prepared to say something - anything - to break the awkward silence.

But then a chuckle came.

A chuckle came, and Death muttered: "Oh my," before covering his eyes with his paw and a grin grew on his face as his shoulders bounced ever so slightly.

Was he...?

And then it came!

Death broke into a fit of laughter.

Death was laughing!

He was wholeheartedly laughing like never before, the deep sound being sharp to the ears yet warm to the heart.

"Squishing nose and making a silly, high pitched sound to show affection!" Death exclaimed, shaking his head with amusement all written over the wolf's face as he laughed.

He seemed to be having the time of his life, and you couldn't help but smile, feeling all warm inside at the sight.

It was honestly sweet, refreshing to see Death like that, and so you didn't even risk saying something, letting your Lobo have his fun.

"My," Death breathed, his laughter eventually dying down to just an occasional chuckle, "you mortals never fail to amuse me,"

"you never really disappoint..." Death mused still shaking his head some with an amused grin on his face.

"Squishing nose and making a silly, high pitched sound to show affection..." he repeated his earlier exclamation, a light chuckle escaping him again before his half-lidded eyes found yours and he went all silent.

"Yeah, it is quite strange, isn't it?" You said lowly once your eyes locked with Death's, a meek smile playing on your face as a light chuckle left your lips as well.

It really was unusual yet amusing, you had to admit that.

Though still feeling a bit awkward in the moment, your instincts told you to ramble, which you attempted to do: "Honestly, I don't even-".

But then.

"Boop," Death muttered and his clawed finger tapped the tip of your nose!

Oh no way! Did he just-??

"Boop..." Death repeated, and chuckled at how silly the sound sounded before he did the action again.

He booped your nose and let out that silly 'boop' sound, making you peek at his finger cross-eyed and scrunch your nose as he smiled.

And right after he did all that, his ears and whole body perked up and his tail wagged all happily!

And as Death's soft smile twisted into a wide, satisfied grin and Death yet again intensely breathed through his nose, growls rumbling in his throat, the message was made clear:

You better prepare for a life filled with nose boops from now on.

Better watch out.

___________________________________________

[mariamegale]

What Becomes of the World

Burakhovsky, rated M, 13,131 words.

He thinks about what a fucking miracle it is that he’s still alive, and his chest tightens again. The problem with survival isn’t the here and now, Artemy is beginning to realise; that’s easy. Here and now, what matters is taking another breath, is pushing through whatever is happening into the next moment. Doing what you need to get done when your life is on the line and, by proxy, the lives of countless others, isn’t the hardest part. That is what comes after, when you’re no longer gasping for air, when there are no longer singular moments to gather your thoughts but an endless stretch of time ahead of you with no more looming disaster to take your mind off of the future. Now, that’s where he finds himself; in the future, inside that vague notion of hope he was clinging to for weeks as he sprinted across town, plague clouds chasing his heels, herbs and bottles and raw human organs jostling around in his medic bag, dead bodies left in his wake. The whole time, the future was on his mind, getting himself and his children and his friends to it, and now it’s here and he doesn’t know what to do when he’s stopped running.

Read it on AO3!

For @whumperless-whump-event 2024, day 29: Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”

a/n:

'write something for whumperless whump,' i said. 'it'll be fun,' i said. little did i anticipate when i woke up this morning with 800 words that this was going to evolve, because i don't know myself and never learn the message of anti-hubris i need to sorely figure out.

I have once again seen inspiration, lost my mind, and hurled out a fic so fast I should be concerned by my mental state. I do also have covid, so please, any typos or other nonsense, point it out to me.

As always, I adore you, and I hope you enjoy <3

Tags: Enemies to Lovers, The incredible romance of shooting three people to protect your idiot beau, Getting Together, Fighting, Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Making Up, Making Out, Slow Burn, Post-Diurnal Ending, you know when you're soulmates, but you need to argue for a few thousand words before you both figure it out, yeah that: The Fic

Archive warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Full tags under the cut.

Enemies to Lovers, Robbery, The incredible romance of shooting three people to protect your idiot beau, Getting Together, Fighting, Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, Canonical Levels of Violence, aka nothing too bad, Arguing, Making Up, Making Out, Slow Burn, Post-Diurnal Ending, after the world ends, and the horrifying realisation you need to figure out what to do Next, Existential Crisis, Artemy is a Dad but it's very very background, Drug Use, aka morphine, Safe Sane and Consensual, aka daniil is not going to veer into dubcon whether artemy likes it or not, (he does not.), you know when you're soulmates, but you need to argue for a few thousand words before you both figure it out, yeah that: The Fic

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: descriptions of past toxic relationship/cheating; consumption of alcohol; anxiety; mentions of sex/sexual situations; Jake being an asshole; Reader takes an extra Melatonin (doctor's advice)

Chapter Word Count: 8.1k

Covet Masterlist

a/n: wooohooo! we have come to chapter 2! 

please forgive me for how long this took to be posted. i am a school teacher, and the end of year is the most hectic. 🫠 so, busyness combined with my need to make sure i personally feel good enough with a chapter to post it. . . it’s not a good combo. lmao although, summer is right around the corner! and i promise when it comes, covet will get much more of my attention!! 

reminder that this is a ~slow burn~ in its truest form. 

i <3 and appreciate you all!! i truly can’t say thank you enough for the support and kind words (it means so much, esp w/ this being my first gvf fic). i love hearing feedback from each and every one of you!! 

alright, i will be done w/ my rambling. i apologize on behalf of myself. lol

hope you enjoy, my loves. 

Disclaimer: this is absolutely, undoubtedly 110% a work of fiction. i do not claim to know greta van fleet. i do not claim that any of this actually occurred. again, this is a complete work of fiction. And, please, DO NOT steal this work, as it is 110% mine. plagiarism isillegal. and, as our friend google puts it, plagiarism is “illegal if it infringes an author's intellectual property rights.” and, being these words/ideas are my intellectual property rights. . .don’t take them. legal action will be taken if you take credit for any of my work.

-🌼🌼🌼 -

Chapter 2

The first month of living with Jake went about as smoothly as one would expect. 

His first full day in the apartment, you’d woken up, ready to be nice. Really. You’d tried your hardest to forget about how he’d acted when he had made his grand entrance. 

But he wasn’t giving up on his act. 

When you’d been standing at the coffee maker in the kitchen that first morning, loading your K-Cup, he’d stopped at the counter. You didn’t know what for, but when you noticed him there, you had tried to start a conversation. Some meaningless small talk to try and break the ice he’d created. 

And his only response? A barely audible hum. 

You did give him credit for glancing up to at least acknowledge your presence. Although, that’s the bare minimum of basic human decency. So, you didn’t give him much credit. 

But, that had been it. And then, he’d left for the day. 

It had instantly caused you to be pissed at everything. Including the coffee maker’s little unnecessary spurts as it poured coffee into your mug. 

Every day since then had gone about the same, sometimes with even less interaction than that. And to you, the lack of desire to even try to associate with you was offensive. 

After all, you were the person who had literally given him a place to live.

To make things worse, he was that kind of asshole that you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. It really just confirmed how truly repulsive he was.

You had gotten an idea midway through that first month to begin compiling a list of apartment rules. 

Initially, it had seemed pointless. Then, you reminded yourself that you were worth better treatment. You knew you deserved for Jake to show at least a sliver of respect towards you in your home.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You decided to tell Josh of the rules you’d crafted. 

“I will be very honest, I really don’t know how well those will go over, Y/N.”

He was giving you a look that instantly made you go into defense mode. 

“Joshua. It’s been a month,” you matched his look with one of your own. You wanted your point to be known. You were going to make damn sure that Josh understood why you wanted to do this. “Josh, he still barely even looks at me. I think rules would give us some sort of common ground. And it would force him to show the place—and me—some respect.”

“Jake has never been one to want to follow the rules — do what he’s told,” he scratched the buzzed side of his head, right above his ear. 

You stood with a hand on your waist, right under your thrifted crop top. You eyed him, making sure he knew he needed to elaborate. 

You didn’t know much at all about your roommate. 

You’d been waiting for Josh to share more, but he didn’t share much. He claimed that it wasn’t his place. You were desperate though. All you knew about Jake was that he was your best friend’s twin, what his record choices were, that he had been in an apparently crappy relationship, and the fact that he was an ungrateful asshole. 

Josh relented slightly. “I’ll tell you this story because it involves me as well. And we were so young,” he leaned with his back against the checkout counter, facing away from customers. “When we were in our freshman year of high school, he played soccer while I participated in theatre. He enjoyed it and he was actually quite good at it, you know,” Josh smiled, obviously replaying memories. “But, high school classes grew increasingly harder. We both struggled, honestly. We love to learn more. . . I mean, you know this about me. He’s the same way. But we really only enjoy doing it most when it concerns the subjects for which we’re passionate. 

So, high school work being less than interesting to us both, our grades dropped. Big time,” his eyes widened, once again reliving it all. At this point, he was staring into space to tell the story. “Our parents and teachers came down on us hard. They told us we would be kicked out of our extracurricular activities if we didn’t raise our grades.”

You shook your head, looking around the store. A couple of regulars were perusing. You knew them well enough to know it would be awhile until they were done. “I know exactly where this is going.”

You both made eye contact then, and as he looked your way, he gave a little closed-mouth grin that made his eyes crinkle. “Yeah? Guess.”

You smirked at your friend. “You, being you, were determined to show that you had what it took to make the grade. You cared enough about theatre to continue it,” he nodded at your words. “And, in the time I’ve known you, you’ve never been one to say no to a challenge. It’s why we are friends. I love a good challenge.”

He made a noise of agreeance. Then, his eyebrows raised and his lips turned down. The look he gave you told you he was impressed. “You know me well,” he continued. “Now, how well do you know your roommate?” 

You scoffed. “As you know, not fucking well. But I know he couldn’t give two shits about what others think of him,” you pointed to yourself. “I’m a shining example. So, —.”

“Essentially, he said ‘fuck it’ and just decided to continue on with what he had been doing in his classes, which was jack shit,” Josh had finished for you, wanting to complete the story he’d begun.

“How did he even pass high school?”

He gave you a deadpan stare and raised his  eyebrows. You rolled your eyes. At the same time, you both said:

“Girls.”

You rolled your eyes even harder this time. “Good God.”

Josh nodded, lips turned down, his eyes still held a little glint. “Yup. Get my point now?”

“Yeah, but like I just said, I’m not one to turn down a challenge. Just like you, Josh,” you smiled at a customer who was finally walking up to the counter, a few records in hand. “And your brother. . .I’ve learned he is nothing if not a challenge.” 

He nodded, he knew you were right. And he’d known you long enough to know that you did indeed enjoy overcoming any problem life may hand you.

In this instance, you hoped he understood your current challenge/problem was Jake.

And you needed to know how to fix it. Josh was your only source. You just had to get him to break for more information. 

Again, you really liked a good challenge. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

The shift rolled on. The two of you had been working the closing shift that day. 

So, as the day shifted to evening, and with about an hour before the store closed up, you started nightly duties. Josh went about straightening vinyls, fixed the ‘Featured’ wall (his favorite), and re-folded the shirts the store carried with the Black and Gold’s logo. 

Meanwhile, you swept and dusted the store. 

You hated to admit it. You really did. But you couldn’t help how the conversation from earlier had piqued your interest even more than before. 

You were now hooked. You wanted to learn more about your mysterious roommate. 

You debated how you were going to ask Josh for more information. What was a way you could ask that would convince him to tell you more about his twin? 

Ever since Jake had moved in, you’d tried so desperately to get information out of Josh. 

And he just refused to budge.

You were putting the broom away when you’d settled on how to ask him. 

You were going to be a jackass and use manipulation. 

You sucked, you knew this. You were just dying to know more about this person with whom you shared your home. And, to reiterate, it had been a damn month of knowing next to nothing about him. 

So, when you joined Josh behind the counter as he balanced the register, you were ready to play your hand. 

“Alright, so, Elsie still isn’t sure if she wants to be in your movie.” There it was. A complete lie using your sister— the one he was completely smitten with. In truth, Elsie had agreed on the spot. 

But, again, desperation had led you to this. 

You didn’t look up from your task of watering the plants that sat at the window. Just keep talking. “I have a proposition for you. You tell me more about Jake and I will convince her with everything I have to star in your film.”

You still didn’t look over to him. You were afraid of rejection. Then, you heard what seemed to be a sigh of defeat out of your best friend. You looked up to him, his eyes still reading uncertainty.

“Y/N,” he sighed. You knew he was about to say the same thing he had said for the past month. 

“I know, Josh. It’s not your story,” you moved forward to be standing right next to him. You balanced your elbow on the counter, you needed to say your piece—needed him to understand. You locked eyes with him, pleading. “Come on, Josh. I am desperate. He won’t offer anything up. He is silent. It’s been a month. He refuses to acknowledge my presence, hence me forcing him to notice me with the rules,” you paused, suddenly looking to the ground. You needed Josh to bend to your vulnerability. “But, I just need something else. You told me that one story earlier,” you urged. “Just something else small that might help me know him a bit better than I do now.”

You looked up. You were anticipating another rejection from him after you’d finished babbling. Though, his eyes seemed to open more at your apparent state of helplessness. 

He knew that it wasn’t fair what Jake was putting you through. He had to acknowledge that. You knew he felt most things with you. And you knew he was someone who had enough integrity to want to help you out. He knew this situation had been less than ideal.

He just had to loosen up on his stance of not wanting to tell his brother’s stories.

He released one more sigh. “Fine,” he looked you in the eyes. “And please try your hardest to get your sister convinced to star in my film. The role was created for her.”

You nodded. You looked to the ground once more at that last part. You felt guilty for using that little white lie. “You’ve got it.”

“Y/N.”

You looked up to him after he’d spoken your name in a tone that was much more serious than his usual. 

His brown irises were intent as he spoke. “You have to know I’m breaking a big rule of mine,” he continued. “I don’t like speaking to stories that belong to other people. Our experiences are unique to us. They deserve to be told by those to whom they happened.” 

You nodded. You understood his point. You totally knew why he felt the way he did. 

“Josh, you can just tell me childhood stories that involve both of you,” you grabbed his arm. You needed him to know you were being genuine. “I don’t want to make you betray your principles.”

He patted the hand you’d placed on his arm. “I appreciate that, Y/N,” he cleared his throat. “I just think you need to know some of the—,” he spread his hands out to emphasize, then clapped them back together. “The bigger pieces of him. At the moment, he won’t let himself show you who he is. He really isn’t a bad person. He’s just been through a hell of a lot recently.” 

All you could do was nod your head once. There wasn’t much left for you to say. You would let the curly headed man begin when he was ready. 

He eyed the clock. You looked with him. Only thirty minutes to eight o’clock. 

You looked down to your palms, wiping them on your jeans. They were suddenly getting clammy at the prospect of what information could be hitting you within the next 30 minutes. 

“I’m going to begin by saying that as his five-minutes-older brother, I’m glad that Jake gets to finally live life for himself without having to worry about being hung up on a girl,” he looked to the two folded chairs that always sat behind the counter. “Let’s sit.” 

You followed him to the chairs. And as he sat in the right chair, you sat in the left. He looked into space, contemplating what to say next. 

“Jake is seriously going through something he has never experienced before. I mean, your significant other being unfaithful to you sucks anyhow. But she’s been all he’s known for so long. . . This is a complete life upheaval for him, of sorts,” he pauses. “He and this girl — they truly were together for a long time. What are he and I . . . 24 now?” 

You nodded.

“Well, they got together when we were juniors in high school. That would make this relationship about seven years old,” he sighed. “Long time to be together—and it began when they were really only kids.”

You nodded again, coaxing him on. 

“So, since they were together that long. . . there was a lot that happened between them in high school alone, but then you have post-high school when he set his life plan on the back burner for her. We had these plans — big ones. A dream we’d shared. All of us. Sammy and Danny included.”

You were wondering what the dream could have been. “What was the dream?”

Josh shook his head. “It was Jake’s first. We all followed along behind him,” he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “It wouldn’t be right for me to share.” 

You were left wondering at that, but you did understand why Josh didn’t want to share. There was honor in that. And he wouldn’t be Josh if he didn’t show his honor, especially by showing loyalty to those he loved. 

“So, his dream. . .,” you exaggerated the word by using your hands as jazz hands. “It went down the tubes?”

Josh gave you a look. It was a look that told you to take a step back and try to understand. 

You relented. 

You knew it was only right to put your grumpiness with Jake aside for this story. Josh was showing vulnerability on his brother’s behalf. Plus, you’d been the one to force Josh out of his moral values to divulge Jake things. It wasn’t right to act anything but respectful to these tellings of Jake. For Josh’s sake alone.

And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t dying to hear more. Learning of Jake’s past was like satisfying this raging itch.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was quiet. 

The edges of Josh’s eyes wrinkled as he gave you a reassuring grin. “It’s okay,” he patted your knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I know why you’re blunt about him. I know the man’s entire range of emotions. He acts like a child when he— when his emotions are so big and bad.”

“And right now,” you started. Your heart was growing slightly soft. “He is feeling the most emotions.”

Josh shook his head to agree. “Though, this girl was always a pill,” he rolled his eyes. “I liked her a lot at first, truly. But she started flirting with me an awful lot to be dating my brother,” his body shook as if to shake the memory. “It’s honestly not a shock to me that their relationship ended the way it did.”

Though, as soon as the last words had left his mouth, he looked down to consider them. He was weighed down by an emotion he didn’t need to speak out loud for you to know. Guilt.

It was your turn to reach a hand over to touch his knee. You just sat your hand there and told him. “You cannot blame yourself for any of this.”

He continued looking down. “I should have talked to him about how she would make advances. . . To warn him. Maybe he would have never gone and he could have—.”

He placed a palm to his forehead, eyes closing. He was going to get lost in this thought if you didn’t stop him. 

“Josh, she was a terrible person all along,” you placed a hand on his back, rubbing his right shoulder blade. “Jake isn’t a stupid person. He can’t be. You aren’t. And he’s your twin brother. He could have noticed the signs if he wanted to. It was his responsibility to drop her when he had the chance,” you gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Before any of this happened. Apparently he just loved her too much to fully acknowledge what he needed to do.”

You gave him a couple of minutes to really think about that. Then, finally, he lifted his head. “He wouldn’t have listened to me anyways,” He had a gleam in his eye. “My brother is a stubborn asshole,” he chuckled a little. “If you haven’t noticed.”

You gave him a look that said ‘No? Really?’ That turned a few more giggles loose from his chest. 

He continued, letting his tone become serious again. “So, our senior year, Jake really started getting serious about his dream. We all made these real plans, but they were ruined,” he paused, his mouth becoming a straight line. He was remembering a moment that caused a particular annoyance. “That was until she brought up how she wanted him to move with her if she got accepted to this prestigious school in Illinois,” he cleared his throat. “It makes me angry that she asked, but I also get wanting to ask your serious significant other to move with you. It was different—more than that, though. 

Her selfishness was so prominent so often; I think that’s why her asking rubbed me so wrong then, and still does now. She knew if she asked, he’d go. He’d leave his own aspirations in the dust for her. She knew what he wanted—what he’d always wanted. But still, she deemed her choices, her career, more important.”

You nodded, completely seeing eye-to-eye with your best friend. “I think there’s this sense of justice in you for your brother that he hasn’t always seemed to have for himself.”

“Yes!” Josh’s expression was one of relief that you understood. “And the thing with Jake is

. . . He’s always—girls have—,” he paused, gathering his thoughts. “As soon as his hormones kicked in when we were younger, he started noticing girls. He indulged himself in all of that,” Josh lifted his eyebrows. “He really has a strong appreciation for women, I’ll say that.” 

You rolled your eyes, nodding and then crossing your arms, sitting back. Your stomach leaped in a way you chose to ignore at the mention of his appreciation for women. To you, it was ludicrous that he couldn’t appreciate you in some capacity. If he needed sex in order to appreciate a woman, you were not the one.

“A big piece of him changed when girls started becoming involved. He lost a piece of himself. It’s almost as though he didn’t see himself as worthy without one. And now—.”

“And that’s why it’s so hard for him right now,” you finished the statement, bringing yourself back. “He’s lost a sense of his identity. . .

having to find out who he is without a woman.” 

Josh clicked his tongue, a smirk showing with a dimple in his cheek. “Precisely. It’s been a while for him,” a little spark caught in his eye. “On the drive moving him here, I told him that he needs to take a fucking break from women until he starts understanding what it means to think of what he wants first,” he rubbed at his forehead. “I know it seems like a terrible thing for me to say, but I think it’s important for him to put himself first for once in his goddamned life. He deserves to know who he is without a woman claiming him as her own.”

“Because he is worth knowing himself for who he is,” you concluded.

“Aw, Y/N. . . You growing a soft spot for Jakey?” Josh smiled smugly at you.

You held eye contact with him for a few seconds and then laughed outright at his statement. “You’re funny,” you looked to the clock, realizing you were only a couple of minutes from closing. You got up from the foldable chair and went to grab your purse from a hook behind the desk.

Josh followed your lead, but stopped to look for his phone. He tapped at all of his pockets.  Then, coming up short, he looked around the register and the checkout counter. 

You helped him look. But, the sound of Gloria Gaynor belting that “she will survive” helped you locate it easier. You saw it light up, sitting atop a box of new records at the back of the shop. 

You groaned, already walking to get it for him.

“Josh, you have got to be better about keeping track of your phone.”

Josh tsked at you, “And you have got to be better about not bossing me around,” he turned off the lights around the register. “I refuse to be a slave to such a tiny device that doesn’t serve any purpose to my spiritual healing.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, though you knew he was right. As you approached his phone, you got one final glimpse at the caller ID picture. It had been a picture of Jake. 

Even though you had just taken a deep dive into Jake’s past and grown a tiny fraction of sympathy and understanding for him. . .his picture still made you want to punch things. 

As much as his recent past had sucked, he  treated you with such blatant disrespect for someone who had offered their home to him. 

When you traipsed back over to Josh, he was waiting for you at the door, hand already on the doorknob to leave. “Jake called you.”

Josh turned around. His back was facing you and a thumb pointed behind him. “Pocket,” he said.

You snickered a little bit and did as he told you. Josh was choosing you over his prick of a brother and, quite frankly, you were bursting at the seams. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You were not ready to go home to more awkwardness and Josh could tell as much, so he invited you to get a quick drink after work with him. 

He filled you in on everything else he deemed necessary as you drank a couple of margaritas on the rocks, him settling on just one Salty Dog.

Josh told a few finishing details about how much it had sucked to be separated from his womb mate for so many years.

“It honestly felt like I was cut off from him.”

Your heart hurt for him. “I’m glad he is nearer to you now,” you paused, curious. “Did he miss you that much too?”

Josh set a look on you, “Who was the first person he called after it happened? He was ready to be with me again,” he put a hand over his heart. “Came back to his understanding, sensitive twin . . . every moon needs its sun.”

You gave a conceding nod and shrug. “Fair,” you smiled. “You're obviously the sun.”

“Obviously,” he flashed a smile your way. “He might not admit it right now, but he was not at his happiest with her,” he stated. “As ironic or untrue it may seem with his moodiness, I think if he isn’t already, Jake is on his way to feeling the most free he has in a long time. I’m glad to have him back with me. Being away from each other wasn’t good for either of us.”

Your heart swelled for the tenderhearted man next to you. You watched as he looked off into space with what could only be described as a soft sort of pensiveness. You were happy for your friend, despite how Jake was acting or made you feel.

You felt your head get slightly light from the alcohol on an almost empty stomach from being at work nearly all day. You were still so curious, you wanted to know more.

“So, how did it happen?”

“Well, all I know is she was getting quite distant for a while, but Jacob thought she was only distracted by her job. Gave her the benefit of the doubt, let her do her thing and just followed along,” he gave you a look. “He did that much too often. My brother isn’t a puppy dog, but he followed her around like one,” Josh’s jaw clenched and he scratched at his bare chin. “One would say that he loved her. But as his twin, if my telepathic brain is worth anything, I believe that more than love, Jake shared so much with her when they were young that he felt obligated to follow her lead. . .no matter what.”

“And that makes you angry.”

“Oh, quite,” he continued, eyebrows bunched together. “The way he put it when he told me of the situation was that it was as though she was,” he held up air quotes. “‘Shooting the shit.’”

“Just told him like it was no big deal?” You shook your head. “That’s harsh.” 

“More than that, told him in a way that made it seem like she was already done. Essentially, his reaction meant nothing to her. She just needed to tell him in order to end things,” he continued. “She told him it had been going on for quite some time and that she didn’t think they could make it work after it all.”

“What did she do after she told him? What happened after?”

Alcohol was interacting with your senses. Otherwise, you wouldn’t show open curiosity like this. You were sure of it. 

“Well, she left,” He chewed his lip lightly. “Left Jake to deal with the aftermath — the knowledge of it all — by himself. She went to stay with a friend and he had exactly a week to get his shit together and move out. So, being the decent and thoughtful person he is,” you made a sound. Josh gave you a look. “He respected her wishes and got the hell out.”

You really had no words for the situation. It was horrid for Jake, you had to admit. You felt bad for him. You really did. Even though he pissed you off beyond belief, you still knew he was deserving of better than any of what she had put him through. 

You just wished he wouldn’t react in a way that made him become an utter jerk. Due to his attitude, you couldn’t claim that you knew the person who seemed so selfless and loving in Josh’s stories. 

The person you knew was the opposite of the one told in Josh’s tales. 

You only knew a self-centered jerk who held absolutely no respect for you in any way. 

You hated to admit to yourself just how much you wished to know the person Josh had told you about this evening. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

As Josh dropped you off at the stoop to your apartment that night, he shared with you an idea that had come to him. 

“This weekend. We need to do something this weekend.”

You quickly agreed, “Yes! I’d love to have a weekend that’s just us. . .like old times.”

“Actually,” he scuffed the bottom of his white sneaker against the stair step he stood on. He eyed you. “How about we involve Sammy and Danny?”

You could be okay with that. Then suddenly, your stomach flipped. “What about Jake?”

He met your eyes. “He would join. All of us. Game night.”

“Josh,” his name came out like a child’s whine. “Why?” 

He put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “It will be good for both of you. He’ll get to be around you with others and you’ll get to be around him while he’s with people he already knows and feels most comfortable with,” he squeezed lightly at your shoulder. “It will be great. He’ll come out of his shell, and surely he’ll act a little more like himself if he’s around myself and the other two.”

Your stomach rolled at the idea of actually spending any sort of time with Jake. 

Establishing rules? Sure, you could do that. It might take 10 minutes max. But an extended amount of time actually hanging out? 

You agreed to it before Josh left you that night, even though you had your hesitations. 

You wanted to bring some joy to the man that had been there for you through so much. You were also desperate to look like the bigger person in this situation. And, surely agreeing to this would make Josh see that you were trying when Jake wasn’t. 

You needed Josh to see the trueness of your heart in all of this, no matter how much bitterness his brother had caused you.

When you’d entered your home that evening, the lights had all been off. Jake’s door was closed. He was asleep. Thank God.

As you stood at the bathroom mirror taking off your makeup, you convinced yourself it would be fine. You could find positives. You’d hung out with the other three before. You all got along very well in a group setting and honestly always had a great time. That part would be all right.

You just had to convince yourself that Jake wouldn’t ruin it by simply being there with his persistent little dark cloud of distemper. 

By the time you tucked yourself under your covers, you decided no matter what, you would have a fun time. If only for the benefit of the other boys and yourself.

You were also determined to show the best parts of yourself to Jake. A darker part of you wanted him to feel slightly (very) guilty for how he’d been treating his simply incredible roommate. 

But before game night, you had to talk to him about your rules. You weren’t looking forward to him blowing you off. You had a terrible idea that would be the response you’d get to you speaking to him. 

But you still had to try.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You thought through the best time to go over the rules with him, and decided the day before your night with the guys was the best option.

Your mind had settled on Jake taking two possible routes with the conversation. You figured going over them on that Friday before would work for both of these possibilities. 

One possibility was that he would sulk and pout and react like an asshole, and doing it on Friday would give him an entire day to do so. The second option was that he could very possibly just straight up ignore you like he usually did. And, you thought it best to do it a day before he would be forced to associate with you. 

It also seemed fitting to do so on the day that marked almost an entire month of him living with you. You were only one day away from it having been a whole month of him sharing your home. What a perfect time to actually acknowledge and officially, really talk to you. 

Time for him to realize all you were was a super kind person. A person who offered him shelter when there was virtually nowhere else for him to go. 

He needed to respect you and your hospitality.

You had gotten used to him usually arriving home by six every night. So, you loomed in the living room until he got home around six that evening. 

And almost right at 6 o’clock, you heard his keys jingle in the lock. 

As soon as he walked in and saw you leaning against the couch, he stopped to stare at you. It was an awkward-ass stare that made you want to slap him right across the smooth skin of his tanned cheek. 

He was just infuriating. 

“Hey,” you started, trying to sound easygoing. You didn’t know why you were nervous, but you were. 

“Hi,” his response was spoken as a question. 

You knew that you standing there probably seemed extremely odd to the man.

You didn’t care if it made him feel uncomfortable. He deserved it after making you feel edgy for the last month in your own home.

He started to move on from you, already deciding to disregard you. 

“So,” you started, sticking to the assignment. And, surprisingly when you spoke, he stopped in his tracks. “I think I’ve decided it might be a good idea to make some apartment rules.”

With his back facing you, you saw him shake his head. His wavy locks caught the streams of the evening sun’s yellow glow, making the head shake that much more offensive. 

When he still didn’t turn around, you continued. “You can go change your clothes if you want,” you folded your arms tighter to your chest. “I’ll wait out here.”

He then turned, crossed back to the kitchen counter and dropped his keys in the key bowl you’d had since Elsie lived at the apartment. Then finally, he faced you. 

Your stomach did a little flip. Why were you nervous to establish these rules for your apartment? You just needed to get it over with. 

He raised his eyebrows and gave you a look that said ‘so?’ 

His face showed that he was already irritated. It was like the mere act of standing across from you was too much. Being forced to interact with you was a hassle. 

And instantly, you were irked. Could he be any more ridiculous? 

Admittedly, you were also already done with this talk. Screw him. You heatedly whipped your phone out of the back pocket of your jean shorts. You clicked through to your notes, where you’d started the rule list. 

You started with the most agreeable rules.

“The first rule: don’t go in each other’s rooms. I think that’s common sense, but just in case it needs to be stated,” you moved on. “Number two: if we buy food or drinks, they belong to us and only us. I was thinking we could even make two separate sides of the fridge. One side for yours and one for mine.”

You looked up when you heard him take a breath. You looked at him just in time to see him breathe out a tight-lipped sigh, a mocking smirk on his face as he bugged his eyes. 

You chose to ignore him, blatantly rolling your eyes and looked back to your phone. 

“Rule number three: do your own dishes and do your best to keep the sink empty. Rule number four: keep our common spaces clean. You know, kitchen, dining room, living room, bathroom. . .clean up after yourself,” you glanced at him, seeing that he was looking into space, eyes still huge. His arms were crossed across his chest as yours had been. “Rule five: do your own laundry. And I think switching off every other day for whose laundry day it is would be a good idea. I get Monday, you get Tuesday, I get Wednesday. . .and so on.”

You paused, giving him room for notes if he had any. His face held a look you couldn’t quite read. 

“Any thoughts?” You questioned. 

He gave a little chuckle that seemed to mock the same air you’d just spoken the rules to. It was insulting. Still, you wanted to hear from him. So you waited. 

And after a solid two minutes of just standing there, he loudly exhaled. His hand combed through the front of his hair, pushing it back. His eyes blinked a couple of times afterwards. “You seem to have it all nailed down, roomie.”

“Well, thanks,” you hesitantly responded. You were pleased that he was okay with what you’d shared so far. But his mention of the nickname seemed more snarky than anything.

“No, I mean,” he cleared his throat, rubbing at his chin. “You’ve got it nailed down. Like, you left no room for any ‘notes.’”

You scoffed at the air quotes he gave the word. “I’ve hardly ‘nailed it down’,” you gave your own air quotes for his words. “These are just an outline of ideas I have.”

“Just keep going,” he sighed as though he was completely exasperated and tucked both hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I have a date in like an hour.”

“A date?” 

“And it’s your business how?”

“You just told me,” you argued. “That’s how.”

“Didn’t mean you could ask questions about it,” he bit back. “I was just telling you so you would know I don’t have time to just stand here and listen to you drag on about these ‘rules’.”

You shook your head, shocked at how rude a person could be. Completely in awe of the man, you decided you would continue. You were ready to be rid of him. 

“Fine,” you angrily pressed your phone back on. “Speaking of dates. . .Rule six: when you have a date over, please keep them out of the common areas and remember the walls are thin. . . In general, no especially loud music, no loud. . .,” you cleared your throat and your skin prickled with embarrassment. “. . .  anything else.”

“Oh,” he seemed interested. Figured. If it had to do with a woman, his interest was suddenly piqued. “That also applies to you and Josh, I assume?”

“What?!” You were suddenly very disturbed at that statement. “Josh and me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He tilted his head down, his eyes sticking onto yours, hair falling to swing next to his face. “Seriously? You apparently know the walls are thin as shit. And our rooms are right next door, so I can hear the two of you stay up all hours of the night talking,” he looked to the side, his eyebrows raising. “Who knows what the hell else you both do after I fall asleep. You are both touchy as fuck with one another, so I’ll just let my mind wander with what happens behind closed doors.”

You started laughing hysterically at the whole statement Jake had just made. You couldn’t even gather your thoughts. Shocked was an understatement for how Jake’s assumptions left you feeling. 

“Are you kidding me?” You stepped towards him, pointing a finger in his direction. “Of course you would assume a friendship is more than what it actually is. Hopeless fuckin’ roma—.”

You stopped yourself. You had almost called him a hopeless romantic. How would you even begin to explain that you knew enough about him to call him that?

He took a step forward, his jaw clenched. He crossed his arms across his chest again. His chest seemed to continue to rise with his irritation. His fingers were digging into his biceps, clad in his light blue button-up.

“No, finish. Please.” 

Your blood pressure was rising, you felt your skin prickling with embarrassment and guilt. Your heart was racing. You shouldn’t have exploded and almost exposed what Josh had told you. You couldn’t betray Josh’s trust like that. You were being errant. You knew an anxiety attack was on the horizon if you didn’t stop soon. Betraying someone you love was known to bring you to tears quicker than almost anything else. 

You also couldn’t deny how bad you felt for referring to something that was probably still a sensitive topic to your roommate. As much as you despised him, you didn’t have to be so overtly uncool towards him in a hard time.

“Let’s just keep on with the rules,” you tried to calm yourself down. You didn’t need to have an anxiety attack in front of him. That was the last thing you needed. “Please?”

He seemed to catch on to your nerves. And luck seemed to be on your side with how he relented so quickly. He still seemed a little irked, but his eyes were softer than they were before.

“Go on.”

You breathed in and out once, then situated your nerves the best you could to finish. 

“I, um, I thought it would be cool to add a little something that would help keep us accountable for getting to know each other,” you didn’t want to meet his eyes, so you kept yours glued to the screen of your phone. “We both love music, so I was thinking. . .Rule seven: we switch off every other night and play a record on the record player. One of our own choosing. It would give us a good idea of who we’re living with.”

“Because the music we love really says so much about who we are,” he agreed honestly. 

You looked up after he’d spoken, and the look on his face as he looked down said he hadn’t meant to speak it out loud. His eyebrows knitted together like he had conflict within himself. He didn’t want you to know he thought similarly to you, you were sure of it. He’d let his precious little guard down the slightest, smallest bit. 

You couldn’t help it when a teeny-tiny grin landed on your lips. You shook it away before he could possibly see.

“Yep. Totally,” you said very quietly in response. But you knew he heard you when he blinked a couple times and then ran a hand through his hair, bringing his head back up in the process. 

He was making you feel very antsy, and his date would be here soon. So, you tried to finish quickly. 

“And finally, rule eight: we keep a work schedule posted to the fridge so we’re aware of when the other one will be at home. It will be helpful to know if the other one is at work; just in case of an emergency or anything, I thought it’d be helpful.”

You looked up as you finished, he was now leaning back against the kitchen counter. His amber-brown eyes stayed locked on yours earnestly for a bit. You felt your cheeks heat. Then he asked, “And you’re sure there’s not anything else?” 

You shook your head ‘no’.

His previously haughty tone was coming back when he spoke next. “How do you expect me to remember all of these things? And we'll post our schedules on the fridge?”

You couldn’t help it as your heart leapt the slightest bit. He still wasn’t completely rejecting any of the rules. In fact, unless he was somehow being sarcastic, he even wanted a way to remember them. 

“I—I’ll print it all out at work and put everything on the fridge,” you shoved your phone into your back pocket. “I’ll even include a place for our phone numbers, just in case we ever need those.” You added, "And we can just post our schedules when we get them every week."

He nodded once. He looked up at the ceiling then, obviously done with the conversation. You didn’t blame him. You really were too. 

You were suddenly longing for him to ignore you again. His presence was making you tense. You didn’t know how to act around him. You hadn’t had that problem with anyone for a long time. 

The last time was probably middle school when no one knew how to act around each other. 

But now as an adult woman? You hated that someone made you feel like this. 

And in your own home, no less.

He pushed off the counter and started to his room. Then, only steps from his room, he turned on his boot to face you, he held a look of blatant vexation. 

Ugh, what now? You thought.

“Do we really have to have our own sections for our food and drinks in the fridge? Why don’t we just put our initials on things that belong to us?” He reasoned. “I’ll even buy the damned Sharpie.”

You couldn’t find a way to dispute his suggestion in the moment. You could agree with that. “Yeah, sounds good. Good idea.”

He gave an almost-smile (couldn’t show too much cordiality), “I have a few of those every once in a while.” 

He then got a smug grin on his face, “Oh, and you might want to get some earplugs for tonight. . .paper thin walls and all that.”

“Jake,” you were stunned at the audacity. Your shoulders tightened up. “Seriously?”

He set his head back, raising his eyebrows up. A smirk raised his lips, “Nowhere on that rules list did you say I’m not allowed to bring women over. And I really can’t control whether or not I make them scream,” he set you with a stare, raising a brow. “And I’ve gotta say, that’s always been a pretty normal occurrence,” he paused. “And I most likely wouldn’t have been too keen on following a ‘no women’ rule anyway, so.”

“Asshole,” You scoffed, your thighs quivered. The disdain he caused you floated through your whole body. “A little full of yourself?”

“Alright then, don’t plug your ears,” his smirk only grew. “You’ll hear for yourself tonight. Post-breakup recovery fuck, y’know? Gotta get some of this lingering tension out of my system,” he shook his shoulders and arms out to emphasize his words.

Your skin grew angry goosebumps at the thought of everything he’d just said to you. You were amazed by him. Truly. 

Not in a good way. Not amazed in the sense he’d wanted you to be.

He turned on his heel to continue the walk to his room, and you just stood in your spot. Your bare toes dug into the carpet, waiting to hear his door click. 

Once finally alone, you let out a breath you’d apparently been holding. You shook your head at his repulsive words. You were utterly shocked that he would say any of that to you. What the heck? 

This interaction had shown you that it was obviously too much for him to be a pleasant human for an extended period of time.

And he had no issue making you feel completely on edge. 

Distasteful son of a bitch.

You wanted to go hide in your bedroom for the night. You didn’t want to chance running into him again.

You stomped to your room. You had had enough of Jake Kiszka for one night. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You downed the recommended 2-pill dose of melatonin that evening, but snuck in one extra with a giant swig of water. 

Jake had left about an hour prior and you’d be damned if he woke you up with any sex-related noises. 

You were ready to get some sleep anyway, completely tired after the stress you’d dealt with. Your doctor had suggested melatonin to induce necessary rest after any anxious episodes. 

You knew you were to blame for a part of the stress, sticking your foot in your mouth the way you had. But Jake was the main culprit of the stress.

And you were done with him ruling your emotions for the evening. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

And of course, the next morning, Jake was stuck in your head. 

You hated it. It wasn’t because you wanted him there. It was thanks to a ridiculous dream that had plagued you during the night.

Your sleep had graced you with a reminder of the moment you’d almost outed your knowledge of his past. But in the vision, you weren’t feeling the onslaught of nerves you’d originally felt in the moment anymore.

No, in this version of it, all you could focus on was the vision of his chest, how it had been heaving in the midst of his irritation.

And it wasn’t even a covered chest that haunted your dream. No, it was his chest that seemed to be persistently bare. The bronzed, silky-smooth chest you’d seen one too many times in the month he’d lived with you. 

You couldn’t understand how he was 24 years old and still didn’t know how to button his shirts past two buttons. It maddened you that he didn’t know how to button his entire shirt. His toned light brown, sun-kissed chest was distracting in a way you wished it wasn’t.

All you wanted was to escape your roommate. And now he was literally haunting your dreams. 

You had chosen to deny how you’d woken up with sweat on your forehead, hair stuck to your equally sweaty face. You weren’t going to let him have that control over you. Not even in your dreams.

And now, you were completely dreading spending the evening with him in any capacity. 

You just hoped Josh came armed with damn good booze for game night. You desperately needed to get out of your head.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: next chapter is game night! we’ll finally get introduced to sammy and danny <3

there is sooo much to come. i can’t wait to share more with you all. like i’ve previously mentioned, their story is quite the rollercoaster. our beloved roomies are both very stubborn . . . it’ll make for a grand ‘ol time! lmao

i hope you enjoyed!! plz message me & let me know what you thought! hearing from you guys is just so wonderful! let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future chapters!! <3

taglist:

@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @jaketlover, @writingcold, @jessicafg03, @gretavangroove, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @reesetrippingthelight, @lallisonl, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @Fretaganvleet, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @whollyfreeamongstthestars, @llightmyllovee, @sacredjake (even if it seemed to refuse to tag, i still tried - ugh! i apologize for any weirdness of the tagging. if i missed you, please let me know! i think i included everyone, but it's def possible i accidentally left someone out.)

[somanywords]

Ten questions for writers

The lovely @xoxobuckybarnes tagged me a little while ago--thanks!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

14!

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

243,824 words

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Captain America Newsies Six of Crows and I wrote one Ant Man fic :)

4. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

I do my best! Every comment brightens my day and it's so much fun to make a friend or have a connection with someone across the world over something you created :D

5. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Hopefully not!

6. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet! I've made plans with several friends but nothing's happened yet. Something to look forward to!

7. what’s your all-time favourite ship?

I am regularly switching out the OTPs! Stevebucky, Javid, Kanej...

8. what are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty good with dialogue, as well as slow burns and pining, tee hee. And kids! I've been told I'm good at writing kids, which is good news because I half raised my three younger sisters :D

9. what are your writing weaknesses?

I can struggle with a cohesive storyline, and rambling on in scenes when they should've ended. Luckily, I'm learning to notice more and more and can catch myself earlier.

10. first fandom you wrote for?

I think it was Harry Potter--I have several old notebooks full of simple stories about all the Weasley siblings growing up together lol. First one published was a Stevebucky fic!

No pressure tags for anyone who sees this and wants to play! And also @dharmasharks @voylitscope @its-tortle @zenaidamacrouras1 and @tessabennet <3

[charlotterhea]

"Self-rec time! What are your favorite five fics that you've written and why? After replying to this ask, feel free to pass it on to five other writers to spread the love. 💗"

Thank you for the rec, @cissykenway! I love babbling about my fics and now I can even do it by invitation. 😁 (Although, ngl, choosing five stories will be hard! I've just written too much...)

1. "About Magic" The story isn't translated yet but it's the last long fic I completed and it's just so different from everything else I've written. It's detailed, new, and reads more like an actual novel than my other stories. There are so many OCs in this one that grew on me and although some readers were disappointed by the second half, I love this story to bits. It's peak slow burn, like ... you have to be really patient here! *lol* But I love it for the immense plot and the way I managed to keep it completely canon-compliant - yes, including the epilogue. 😏 I'm looking forward to translating it one day.

2. "Medicus"-Series Another not yet translated story but at least this will be my next translation project so stay tuned if you're interested! It's easily one of, if not the hardest story I've ever written, especially Part III. I've written that one coming out of a mentally very challenging time and I needed a place to put everything I've seen, learned, and experienced during the preceding years of my life. So this story ended up being full of trauma, a lot of it about things I never experienced myself, making me extremely nervous about whether I depicted it halfway decently. But ever since I posted the story, so many readers told me that it really hit home for them and that it was healing to read the story so I think I did enough things right. 😅 Anyway, this story is not just full of trauma, it's also a story full of love and there is a lot of healing happening as well although it takes some time to get there. But the end of this series is the end I'm most proud of all my stories. It's just perfect in my eyes, even today.

3. "Our Souls at Full Moon" This story was a pain in the ass! But only because I made it so. 😅 I couldn't get this plot out of my mind but didn't have the time to write such a long project either so I decided to make it a drabble story. And when I was finished with that, I spontaneously decided to try something new with my writing style, so I revised, almost rewrote the whole thing. 🙈 Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of what became of the story, but looking back it might have taken me a similar amount of time to write the long version. ^^ Still, I love it. It has some sentences in it that are unusually poetic for me, is reduced to the bare minimum, and yet brimming with emotions. I made myself cry writing this story and although I'm not entirely sure if I succeeded in translating it adequately, this has earned a place on this list.

4. "Red Passion and Pavlov's Dogs" This is my most successful one-shot, both in German and in English, so of course, this has to be on the list. 😂 Tbh, I didn't expect this story to receive so much love. I wrote it in one sitting, in a tense I wasn't used to and kept agonising over for several days until I decided to just let it go, and half of the ideas aren't mine - but the vibe, the emotions, the rawness... A lot of readers asked for a second part but I'm sure I'd only ruin it. The magic of this story is in its open end and I would never dare touch it again. I couldn't replicate this kind of vibe for a second part anyway. So this plot became the Schroedinger's Cat of my nightly musings as well. Do they get a happy end or will they screw it up? Nobody knows, least of all me, and I won't open that damn box to find out. It's perfect as it is. ^^

5. "Otherside" There are other stories of mine that are more in character, more elaborate, more profound than this for sure - but oh boy, did I have fun writing this! 😂 Putting two Severus ... Severi ... Severussi ...? Well, two of them into one story was just peak-comedy for my brain and I don't care a bit that the younger one is probably more a 21-year-old version than the 39-year-old version he's supposed to be. I had an absolute field day writing them and their banter was worth the action part I whined my way through. I'm actually rather proud of said action part; I normally avoid writing action, it's just not for me, but I'm happy with how I managed this. It was nice to see that I can write action if I have to, even if I don't particularly enjoy it. So this deserved to be on this list as well. ^^

Softly tagging @frenchpresswriter, @dragoon811, @naomijameston, @janacariad and @echoofawind. 💚

[danganronpa96]

idk if this is the right place to ask but what was the planned story of despair gang? (if you're okay with answering!)

At this point I have to be honest with myself and realise that no, I’m probably never going to go back to that fic considering all the plans I have for myself for the future (lol)

In that case, I’m finally going share what was going to happen in the rest of the plot (fun fact chapter 6 had already been half written before I stopped working on it rip)

So, for anyone curious, I’m going to leave a link to the unfinished chapter 6 (with some extra notes and art) and the rest of the plot under the cut

So, I kind of split the story into 5 acts and an epilogue, and chapter 6 was the start of act 2. Bear in mind I only wrote down a vague plan of the story as the majority of it was in my head at the time.

Chapter 6: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1p8uFhqoSiFgyAz5PYmYn1O7EHHVPkZXF3xMi_d4b7to/edit?usp=sharing

When it cuts back to the gang, before making it to the apartments, they come across a basketball court full of Monokumas in their way. They deal with them together as a team.

They then have a round of basketball together (Rin and Papyrus vs. Hajime and Matt) — Hajime manages to score the final dunk only because of the help of Izuru, who he quickly attempts to repress as the others cheer for him.

Afterwards, they find the apartments and settle into one that’s the least destroyed and messy.

Rest of Act 2:

At one point, the gang find a playground where Rin and Matt go on the swings. They talk about what they should do after the tragedy, mentioning theme parks, which sparks Hajime to chime in. Rin and Matt then go to the bathroom, leaving Hajime and Papyrus alone. Papyrus tries to talk to Hajime about what happened at the basketball court.

Another day, Hajime and Papyrus go out to find entertainment for Rin and Matt after the two complain about having nothing to do. Hajime gets his leg slashed by a Monokuma during an ambush, so Papyrus carries him to a bookstore where he can safety bandage him. He then gives Hajime a pep talk about his confidence. Hajime wants to say something back, but Monokumas once again catch them off guard, forcing them to flee back to the apartment.

Another day, Papyrus and Rin go out on a supply run while Hajime heals from his injury. During this time, Hajime gets to know Matt better, where he talks about his time working for Despair Melody (and puppy crush on Parappa).

There was going to be a scene where Hajime and Papyrus end up in an arena similar to the UDG game but instead of fighting a child, Gumi invites them into the middle of the arena for a challenge, demanding she gets Rin if she wins. However, Hajime and Papyrus manage to win, so Gumi cuts off her finger much to their horror.

The end of Act 2 would have the gang’s apartment being found and burned, forcing them to flee into the sewers.

Act 3:

After navigating the sewers for a while, they come onto land again where they realise they’ve ended up in a district all about Miku: billboards, flyers, merch stores, and music all around. They would go onto infiltrate Despair Melody’s base (which is the Parappa Town school). I think this was because they were going to use it to gain good reception to contact Future Foundation (and talk to Nagito and Parappa).

Act 4:

In an act of defiance and manic, Gumi kills Sunny. The gang wait atop the rooftop (of the school I’m assuming, perhaps to be picked up by Future Foundation) but are ambushed by Gumi, who they see has replaced her chopped off finger with Miku’s somehow. They would then flee through riots in the streets (probably Despair Melody’s doing) where they loose Matt during the escape. However, Izuru finally manifests, allowing Papyrus and Rin to be captured while he flees.

(I don’t remember what act this was going to be, but at one point while sitting alone, Hajime would finally gain the courage to tell Papyrus about Sans, but to his surprise, Papyrus figures it out himself. The two then have a hurt/comfort moment about it.)

Act 5:

Hajime is awoken/saved by AI Teto (was gonna be a whole other plot thing lol). Hajime then locates and saves Papyrus. As the two go to find Rin, AI Teto would take over a Monokuma and ensue some hijinks. Gumi would tell Rin the truth about Len: that he’s dead. He was the body that Miku used in the 3rd case of the 69th killing game that they dressed up as Miku (yes this is actually canon when Teto says “I didn’t want Miku to kidnap—” but cuts herself off in the 6th trial, she was going to spill that they kidnapped Len for that case). They save Rin and confront Gumi. Izuru manifests again, but this time to finish off Gumi himself by slashing her stomach.

I don’t know how this happens but in the plan it then says ‘the building explodes as the three are rescued by a Future Foundation helicopter’.

(I also assume this is the act where Hajime is finally true with his feelings towards Papyrus and is 100% reciprocated c’mon c’mon reverse sansmaeda real and true)

Epilogue:

The gang (I srsly don’t know what happened to Matt at this point maybe he was already on the helicopter that would be cool) join Future Foundation as the world starts to be rebuilt together. Gumi, who didn’t die, is put into the hope rehabilitation program.

Bonus: Hajime and Papyrus adopt Rin and Matt and now live as a family because a human and a skeleton can fall in love and raise a singing robot girl and a dog boy. The end :)

Also for anyone wondering, the participants of Sunny’s killing game were all planned to just die in the explosion, but hey wouldn’t it be funny if they were all found and rescued at the end instead 👍

[hero-deserves-to-be-happy]

Under The Weather (A Hero-Centric Sick Fic)

When Hero has to cancel his visit home due to illness, Kel gets worried and calls in some reinforcements to take care of him. Kel knows there is nothing that upsets his brother more than being fussed over and worried about, but maybe he'll let himself be taken care of just this once...

Genre: Sick Fic, Slice of Life and Hurt/Comfort. Friendship and Kel & Hero's Brotherly Love. Post-Good Ending. Self-Indulgent. Hero Deserves To Be Happy.

Characters: Hero (POV Character), Kel (POV Character), and Zoey (OC). Sally and the parents make brief appearances. Mari and Sunny are mentioned.

Relationships: Hero and Kel's Brotherly Bond. Kel and Zoey (OC) Friendship. Hero and Zoey (OC) Friendship [Could be Hero/OC if you really wanted, but this story take place mid-extremely slow burn so they'd swear they're just friends here]. Past Hero/Mari is implied, referenced, and mentioned.

Word Count: 11,886

Rating: G

Warnings: Some hurt/comfort. Some mentions of grief. Mentioned flu and flu-like symptoms. Sick Character. Referenced Canonical Character Death. OMORI SPOILERS. There is a little angst, but it wraps up with brotherly love and Hero actually being happy and taken care of after the good ending (who knew we'd live to see the day...)

⛅This story is part of the "When Sun Shines Again" universe & includes specific references to "Am I Ready For Love? Or Maybe Just A Best Friend" but it should stand-alone and make sense without reading any of that. 

A/N: It's my birthday and this is my (Acacia's) self-indulgent present to myself. 😁Thank you for indulging me!

Link to work on AO3. Full text below the cut.

Thank you for reading! 🧡💙☂️

Kel glanced over at the clock, watching as the second hand barely ticked away. He generally wasn’t this distracted or antsy at basketball practice, even when his coach called an emergency practice after school on a Friday when everyone was naturally jittery with anticipation for the weekend. But he couldn’t seem to focus on anything today—found himself zoning out until something collided with the back of his head.

“Ouch!” he yelped, rubbing his hand across the spot the basketball had just bounced off of him. That was definitely going to leave a mark. Some of his teammates snickered while a few offered shrugs of apologies. His coach huffed, crossing his arms clearly unamused.

“What is going on with you today?”

“Sorry, coach,” he mumbled sheepishly—scratching the back of his neck. “My brother’s coming home from college for the weekend, so I guess I’ve been a little distracted.”

His coach frowned. “Well you can run out that distraction by running laps around this gym. 10 laps—go!”

Kel sighed, but he sprinted off for his laps. If he was being perfectly honest, he didn’t mind. If he was lucky, maybe running laps would help time pass faster. He’d try anything that would help time pass faster. Hero was coming home, and he couldn’t wait to see him.

When practice finally wrapped up, he practically sprinted out to his car and, though it likely would have worried his mother, he sped home at, at least, a solid 10 mph above the speed limit. He hoped he hadn’t missed Hero’s arrival—though he knew he had a class this morning and wouldn’t have been able to leave until later in the day, then he had what was probably a 3-hour drive taking traffic into account, so maybe time was on his side.

When he pulled onto his street, he was relieved to see that Hero’s car was not in the driveway, and as he ran through the doorway into the house, he called, “Have you heard from Hero at all?” Do you know what time he’s coming?”

With an affectionate chuckle, his mom looked up from the block structure she had been building with Sally. “Well, welcome home to you too, Kel. Did you have a good day at school? How was basketball practice?”

“It was fine,” he said with a shrug, trying to ignore that lump on the back of his head. “But have you—?”

“Wanna play ‘zoo,’ Kel?” Sally interrupted with a bright smile as she held up some of the colorful, plastic animals he and Hero had bought her for her birthday. “You can have any ammimals you want.” She stared up at him with wide, expectant eyes as she handed him an elephant. Kel smiled, patting his little sister on the head.

“Thanks, Sally. We’ll play in a minute, okay?” He paused, turning back to his mother. “Mom—”

“I haven’t heard from him since this morning. He was supposed to call before he left, but maybe he got busy or forgot,” she cut him off with a slight shake of her head. “I hope he’ll make it back in time for dinner.”

“I’ll call him,” exclaimed Kel reaching for the telephone receiver. As Kel began to dial the number he knew by heart, he stopped—wondering if it would be better to call Hero’s cell phone. They were all still adjusting to the fact that he had gotten one. It made their mother feel safer and more secure, knowing that Hero had a way to call for help in an emergency, but since he had limited, prepaid minutes, they all still usually communicated with him by calling the landline at the fraternity house where he lived. In this case, however, Kel was hoping that Hero was already on his way, in which case, his cell phone would be the best way to get ahold of him.

“What if he’s driving?” sighed Mom as Kel began to flip through the address book they kept near the phone. When he found the number, Kel shrugged.  

“Then he won’t answer, and I’ll just leave a message.”

“Tell him about my zoo,” giggled Sally, and Kel nodded. As he held the phone to his ear, the ringing of the telephone mingled with Sally’s best impression of a lion. A smile tugged at his mouth as he watched as his sister began to set her animal toys in the block zoo she had been building with their mother.

He was so distracted he almost didn’t hear the slow, heavy breath followed by a hoarse, groggy, “Hello?”

Kel’s brow furrowed. “Hero? Uh…it’s Kel…” He stumbled over his words, worried he had dialed the wrong number. The person on the other line barely sounded like his brother at all. There was more wheezy breathing as if Hero couldn’t catch his breath, followed by an audible gasp and a stumbling, almost panicky, “Kel? Oh my gosh—what time is it?”

“Um…around 6:00, I think.”

“I’m so sorry,” apologized Hero, sounding like himself again besides the hoarse breathiness of his voice. “I wasn’t feeling well so I lied down to take a nap before I left, and I must have completely lost track of time.” His voice cracked and hitched—raspy and wheezy before he finally burst into a fit of nasty, phlegmy coughing.

“You sound terrible. Are you sick?”

“He’s sick?” interjected their mother bustling around him in a fidgety panic. “What’s wrong? Did he see a doctor? Does he have a fever?”

“I don’t know, Mom,” huffed Kel, but he was promptly cut off by Hero.

“Mom’s there?” There was something concerned and guilty in his already weary voice. “Tell her not to worry. I’m fine. My friends have been passing this bug around. I’m the last one to catch it. I’ll probably be better in a couple days.”

Kel nodded before he realized his brother couldn’t see him; then, he turned to his mom giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “He says all his friends have had this bug. It only lasts a day or two. He’s gonna be fine.”

“Tell him to take medicine, get lots of rest, and drink plenty of water and to keep checking his temperature,” his mother began rambling. “If it reaches 103, he needs to call a doctor or go to urgent care.”

“Mom,” sighed Kel. “Hero’s gonna be a doctor. I’m sure he knows all that.”

“You can hand the phone off to Mom If you want. I’ll talk to her,” Hero weakly interjected before he started coughing again. “I’m really sorry I’ll have to postpone my visit, but I’m not well enough to drive and I wouldn’t want to get you sick.”

“It’s fine, okay? Don’t worry about it. Are you sure you’re alright? That’s a really nasty cough.” Kel bit his lip, trying not to sound nearly as concerned as he felt. His fingers trembled as they gripped onto the receiver. As he looked in his mother’s face, he knew she was worried too and likely for the same reason: Hero never got sick.

“I’m fine,” he insisted but his raspy voice and coughing fit seemed to imply otherwise. “Don’t worry about me. I’m probably just going to make some instant ramen and go to bed.”

“But you hate instant ramen…”

“He’s making instant ramen,” interjected their mother. “Tell him to try to eat something healthier—more hearty like soup.”

“Mom—” Kel began to protest before Hero cut him off with a weary sigh.

“I just didn’t have the energy to make anything else…” Hero’s voice trailed, and Kel swallowed hard.

“Is there someone there who can take care of you?” he asked, and Hero sighed again.

“I don’t want to bother anyone or get them sick. Besides they’re all heading out to this party tonight.” He paused, coughing again. “But it’s fine. I’m really okay, Kel, just a little under the weather.”

Kel sighed heavily. He wished he could believe him, but Hero had always had this way of deflecting and belittling his own problems because he didn’t want people to worry. This had gotten especially bad over the past couple of years. Ever since their fight, it seemed like Hero would never tell him that anything was wrong ever again. Kel’s chest ached. His brother could be dying right now, and he’d have no idea.

“Hero—” He stopped abruptly, unsure of what he even wanted to say. It would probably just be the wrong thing anyway, so it might be better if he just didn’t say anything at all.

“I’m okay, Kel,” Hero gently insisted again. “And I’m sorry…but we’ll see each other another time. Maybe next weekend or the weekend after? Whenever I’m not contagious anymore.”

Kel sighed, but he finally answered, “Yeah…You just take care, okay? Do you want me to put Mom on now?”

Hero hummed, and Kel handed the phone off to their mother who started blustering and prattling away about cold medicine, sponge baths, and electrolytes. Kel didn’t catch most of it, but he did clearly hear, “I wish you had someone up there to take care of you.” Kel let out a long, heavy sigh. He certainly felt the same way, but that definitely wasn’t going to happen. Hero hated asking for help more than he hated instant ramen.

“Is Hero gonna be, okay?” asked Sally, tugging on his arm. Kel gave her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah. He’s just a little sick right now, but he’ll be fine. Then he’ll come visit and see your zoo.” He took Sally’s hand and led her back to the blocks and toys. “Here, I’ll help you with it.”

Helping Sally with her zoo project did not distract Kel nearly as much as he hoped. He was constantly distracted by worries about Hero and how bad his health was—if he was really telling them the whole story. He didn’t usually get sick after all, and he sounded horrible. What if he had a flu or something and needed medical attention? He could at least use someone who could check in on him and make sure he was getting water and enough to eat that wasn’t instant ramen. But Kel wasn’t sure who that would even be. Unless…

Impulsively, Kel raced upstairs to his room to grab the notecard where he had written Hero’s friend Zoey’s phone number after she had offered to let him call her whenever he got stuck on his math homework. Kel had used to call Hero with all his homework trouble, but after Hero himself was stumped by a particularly difficult math problem, his brother had suggested they ask his friend who was an engineering major and, Hero insisted, a math genius. Best of all, she had just so happened to be hanging out with him when Kel had called. Zoey had quickly solved and walked him through the problem, then several others. Then she generously offered that he could call her with any other questions—which he had multiple times. Honestly, he’d probably be failing math right now if it wasn’t for her.

He talked to her all the time, sometimes it seemed, even more than Hero, though Kel often thought he probably got a more accurate account of how Hero was actually doing from her than if he had just asked his brother himself. He could only be told ‘I’m fine, just busy’ so many times before it started sounding automatic and rehearsed. Zoey at least told him the truth: he’s stressed about upcoming exams, busy cooking food for a party his fraternity was hosting, or groggy from staying up all night studying. Kel sighed. He understood if his brother wanted to keep a lot of his life private, but, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt a little to be cut off from his reality by dismissive ‘I’m fine’s. He knew Hero didn’t want him to worry and was likely just trying to protect him from that, but still…he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was his own fault. Hero probably didn’t want to tell him he was stressed out, overwhelmed, or sick because he was worried Kel would just say the wrong thing, just like he had when Hero had gotten so depressed after Mari had died.

Neither of them ever wanted that to happen again so they just didn’t really say much of anything anymore—at least not much of anything that mattered. Sure, they still talked—so much and so often that Kel knew the phone number to Hero’s fraternity house by heart, but it barely scratched the surface, never touched anything deep or meaningful. In a way, it felt hollow, distant—like Hero was only showing him a hazy impression of his life, enough to reassure Kel he was doing okay but not enough that he could feel like he actually knew him anymore, at least not like he had when they were younger and Hero had told him everything. It was getting better—had been over the past two years since they had learned the truth, but…Kel knew things would never go back to the way they were. He should probably be used to that by now. His brother was a very private person, and he probably always would be.

And by the time Kel had dialed the number and listened to two rings of the telephone, he realized with a somewhat sheepish sigh that he probably should have been a little more respectful of that. His hands began to tremble as he clutched onto the receiver—genuinely starting to worry he was crossing a line. Zoey was one of Hero’s best friends, and Hero might be embarrassed to know his younger brother had been calling her to ask if she’d check up on him.

Before he could even begin to consider hanging up, however, someone answered the phone with a “Hello?”

“Hey, uh, this is Kel. Is Zoey there?”

The young woman on the other line laughed. “Scotty, how are you?”  she asked, and Kel’s mouth curved into a bright smile. He knew immediately it was her. She was the only person in the world who called him ‘Scotty.’ Zoey had explained to him once it had to do with his talent for fixing things, just like “Scotty the Miracle Man,” a reference to some old tv show Zoey said she had used to watch with her dad. It didn’t bother Kel that he didn’t get the reference. He was honestly just kind of excited to have a nickname. After all, he had never really had one besides ‘Kel’ before and that was just a shortened version of his name. He had always kind of wanted one, just like Hero, but he had never told anyone that before.

“I’m good,” he replied with a chuckle. “You?”

Zoey hummed. “I’m doing okay—been kind of busy. You stuck on your math homework again?”

“Well yeah,” Kel admitted with a shrug. “But that wasn’t why I was calling. Is this a bad time?”

“Nope. Most of my sorority sisters are headed out to this party, so that’s probably what you’re hearing in the background.”

Kel’s brow furrowed. He heard some background chatter and rustling noises, but it was all kind of faint—nothing he would have thought was worth mentioning if Zoey hadn’t brought it up herself. “You’re not going to the party?”

“I have a project due next week, and honestly, parties aren’t really my scene. Don’t tell your brother, but I really don’t think I’d have a good time without him there anyway. We’re usually the only sober ones, and drunk company’s really not all it’s cracked up to be,” she replied dryly, and Kel laughed but shrugged his shoulders.

“Have you talked to Hero at all?”

“Not since yesterday. Did he make it home okay?”

Kel sighed. “He’s not coming. He’s sick.” Kel paused—sighing again and trying not to sound too disappointed. “He called like 45 minutes ago—has this terrible cough. He says he caught some bug or something and isn’t well enough to drive.”

“I knew this would happen,” huffed Zoey though she sounded more guilty than upset. “We’ve all been passing this flu around, and Hero’s been trying to take care of everyone so, of course, he got sick himself.”

“A flu?” interrupted Kel. He shook his head. So Hero had been underexaggerating again…? He should’ve known.

“I’m sure he’s going to be okay,” Zoey reassured him. “He has a really strong immune system—barely ever gets sick. It’s one of the reasons he’s going to be a great doctor. Don’t worry. I had this flu too—got over it in a couple days.”

“He got it from you?” teased Kel, and Zoey laughed.

“Probably from Kyle. They are roommates. But we’ve all had it. Hero’s the last one.” Zoey paused, sighed. “We really didn’t think he was going to get sick.”

“Yeah he uh…usually doesn’t, but he sounded pretty miserable when I talked to him earlier today. Said the only thing he could eat was instant ramen.”

“He hates instant ramen,” Zoey interjected, and Kel shook his head with a sigh.

“I know.” He paused thoughtfully then tried to ask as nonchalantly as he could manage, “Hey…uh…do you think you could bring him over some food or something? Just so he wouldn’t have to keep eating instant ramen. I wouldn’t want you to get sick or anything, but since you already had it, maybe you could just drop it off and maybe check in to make sure he’s doing okay…?” His voice trailed, and he bit his lip as he waited for her answer.

“I’m not much of a cook, Scotty,” chuckled Zoey. “But I could stop by a restaurant or Other Mart to pick up a couple things and drop them off for him. You know it’s only going to make him feel guilty though. He’ll help anybody that needs him without batting an eye, but the minute you try to turn it around and return the favor, it’s suddenly a big deal.”

Shaking his head slightly, Kel sighed. “Yeah…that’s just Hero for you.”

When Zoey sighed herself, Kel imagined she was shaking her head with the same somewhat affectionate exasperation, but she hummed thoughtfully. “I’m sure he’s feeling pretty miserable right now, and not just because he’s sick. He’s been so excited to see you—talked about practically nothing else for the past couple weeks.”

“Really?” The question slipped out before Kel could stop it, and his face flushed. Luckily, she couldn’t see him.

“Yeah, of course,” Zoey chuckled like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I don’t know if I’ve ever known anyone who’s so excited to see his brother. I mean, I love my brother, but the way Hero talks about you—it’s like you’re the most important person in the whole world, his best friend.”

“I don’t think I’m his best friend anymore,” mumbled Kel without thinking.

“Hey…” Zoey’s tone of voice softened—something gentle and sympathetic in it. “If you’re talking about me or Kyle or Brandi, C.J., Lorraine, Tamra…yeah, we’re all Hero’s friends and we all care about him, but none of us are you. And we’re never going to be you, Scotty. You’ll always be number one.”

“I dunno,” sighed Kel. He was pretty sure he lost that spot when he was insensitive, said all the wrong things after Mari died—when he hurt his brother, broke him.

“I don’t really know if it’s my place to say but…” Zoey began tentatively, but she let out a conceding sigh. “You know the only time I ever really see Hero happy is when he talks about you—about how amazing you are and how proud he is. His face just lights up, and he smiles for real—it actually reaches his eyes.”

Kel’s face grew warm, but he stifled a chuckle. It was funny to hear her say that considering he would have said the exact same thing about her. They all would have. It was Sunny who had noticed it first, actually, on account of the fact he lived in the city and Hero often invited him to hang out with him and his friends. Kel would never forget how he had excitedly told him, Aubrey, and Basil all about what it had been like to see Hero smile again. They almost hadn’t believed him, but then Hero had come home on a break and told him about how he got caught in the rain with some friend of his, a spunky engineering major who thankfully had a red umbrella. In the middle of his story, Hero’s face had lit up and he had smiled just like Sunny had said, a real smile that actually reached his eyes. Kel’s chest ached just thinking about it—about how much he wished his brother would smile like that all time, about how much he wished he would be happy again.

Kel took a long, deep breath. Could it really be possible that Hero smiled like that when he talked about him too? He couldn’t really believe that. Not after everything that had happened.

“He really loves you, you know?” Zoey continued quietly, and Kel fidgeted. Could she read his mind or something? “If the situation was reversed and you were sick and he was hours away, he’d be calling your friends too—having Aubrey and Basil go check up on you and make sure you’re doing okay. He’d probably be calling your parents all the time for updates too. Everyone in Faraway Town would be keeping an eye on you for him.”

Something twisted in Kel’s chest, and his eyes fluttered closed as he took a deep breath. “Please don’t tell him I’m worried.” His voice hitched over his words—quiet, small, like he was that little boy cowering in the corner watching Hero break again.

“You can tell him yourself,” Zoey gently encouraged. “I’m sure he—”

“You know about our fight, right?” Kel interrupted without thinking. He swallowed hard—the only sound during the long, heavy pause which followed. It probably crossed a line to ask that. He didn’t even know if she knew, but Hero had told him he had told Zoey about Mari, had told her a lot of things that he didn’t think he’d ever tell anyone. It wouldn’t have surprised Kel if their fight was one of them.

“Yes,” Zoey finally admitted—quiet, matter-of-fact. “He told me.”

Kel huffed lightly, breathily almost a disbelieving laugh. “Then you know why I can’t just call him up and tell him I’m—” His voice hitched, and he stopped abruptly.  

“Kel—” she began to protest, but he cut her off.

“And you also know that it’s all my fault that we’re not—” He stopped abruptly—the words getting caught in the back of his throat. He shut his eyes tightly and swallowed hard.

“That’s not the story he told me.”

Something twisted in Kel’s chest. He couldn’t imagine what else his brother could have possibly said. Even if Hero had tried his best to protect him with his account and paint him in a better light so Zoey wouldn’t hate him, he couldn’t change the fact that it was his pushy and insensitive words that had broken him, right? He was the one who had made him feel guilty, made him feel like it was his fault he was so depressed, like he could just snap out of it somehow, like he wasn’t doing enough, and worst of all, like he was disrespecting Mari. He was the one who had said all the wrong things, who hadn’t been sensitive or kind enough like Hero himself would have been if the situation had been reversed. He was the one who said this wasn’t what Mari would have wanted, and he was the one who watched while those words broke his brother. He was the one who had broken him.

No version of the story Hero could have possibly told anyone could have changed that, but he supposed it was really none of his business.

“You know, Kel,” Zoey continued with a heavy sigh. “Sometimes we put up walls between ourselves and the people we love because we’re afraid of hurting them. It doesn’t mean we don’t love them—it just means we don’t know how.”

Kel’s chest ached, but he swallowed hard. “And you’re saying Hero’s like that?” He paused, and the words slipped out before he could stop them. “With you?”

“With everyone.” She hadn’t missed a beat. Kel supposed he admired that about her. She could be so honest but so kind too, and she knew Hero so well. Kel could tell that she cared about him and was a good friend. Both she and Hero vehemently insisted they were nothing more than that, and Kel believed them—which is why his question probably crossed a line, why Zoey felt compelled to add, “Not just me. You know that we’re not—”

“Yeah, sorry,” stumbled Kel interrupting as he shifted and fumbled around with the phone in his hands. “I didn’t mean anything by that. I just—”

“It’s okay,” she thankfully cut him off. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting the wrong idea. We get teased enough as it is by our friends—I can tell it bothers him. He won’t say, but I know it’s a touchy subject…”

“Do you think he’ll ever…uh…you know…?” he stumbled over the question, feeling guilty for even asking though he was desperate to hear another opinion that wasn’t the dismal ones he, Aubrey, Basil, and Sunny could generally come up with. Given the way he had tripped over his words, he wasn’t sure she’d even understand what he was trying to say, but she sighed.

“Honestly…I don’t know.” She paused thoughtfully. “But I do know that he’s not ready right now.”

Kel’s brow furrowed. That wasn’t exactly the answer he was expecting. “He told you that?” he asked before he could stop himself.

There was a long pause before Zoey answered, “Yes.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, pragmatic, and unreadable, but she sighed heavily. “Scotty, if you want to talk to Hero I feel like you should. He’s your brother. You should be hearing all this stuff from him—not me. It’s really none of my business.”

“He won’t talk to me.” Kel’s face flushed. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Zoey sighed.

“Kel…”

“It’s fine. It’s just…the way it is, you know?” he shrugged, swallowing hard. “He wouldn’t even tell me how sick he was.”

“He didn’t want you to worry.”

Kel huffed. “Well, I did anyway.”

“I’ll go check on him, okay?” Her voice softened—kind and sympathetic, almost reassuring. “But he’s going to be fine. Don’t worry. Then, I’ll call you later and tell you all about how he’s feeling better already.” She paused chuckling. “Okay?”

Kel sighed, but he shrugged his shoulders conceding, “Okay.”

“Good. Now what’s that math problem you’re stuck on?”

Kel snorted a laugh in spite of himself. “You think we have time for that?”

“Unless you want me to tell your brother you called specifically to ask me to check up on him, then yeah—I’m gonna have to actually help you with your homework,” she quipped dryly. “I think there’s a special place in hell for the kind of person who’d lie to Hero.”

Reaching for his math textbook, Kel laughed. “Alright…Well in that case, it’s another one of those functions…”

*-*-*

Wearily rubbing his eyes, Hero groaned. He was so exhausted it took all of his strength just to roll over onto his side so he could reach his bottle of water. He knew it was important for him to stay hydrated, even without his mother reminding him, and was truthfully desperate for something to drink given how hoarse and sore his throat was after he had just woken up.

Coughing, he managed to take a few sips before he sunk back down into his bed. Sunny had once rated it a 9 out of 10, but now Hero would probably rate it an 11, the most comfortable bed on earth. He never wanted to leave it ever, ever again—but that was probably just the flu talking.

Hero couldn’t remember the last time he had had the flu. He rarely ever got sick. Contracting what he had originally thought was a cold was a surprise enough, but he had just chalked it up to being a little under the weather and tried to push through it—until he had crashed that afternoon after a coughing fit—chilled, aching, and too tired to even move. By the time he woke up to answer Kel’s call, he was honestly miserable—phlegmy, wheezy, shivering, and so feverish he could barely put a sentence together. Even now, his head throbbed, and his thoughts were cloudy and muddled. He felt disoriented and too exhausted to even think too hard.

Hero sighed. He should probably take his temperature again—make sure it wasn’t too dangerously high. It barely took any time at all for the thermometer to ding—flashing a whopping 102.2 degrees Fahrenheit. Hero took a long, deep breath, or at least as deep as he could manage given his nasty cough. A fever that high certainly explained why he felt so crummy. He reached for some tissues and blew his nose before he coughed again. It would probably be best if he just went back to sleep.

His eyelids grew heavier and heavier until they finally started drooping closed, but Hero was distracted by rustling noises he heard downstairs. His brow furrowed. He thought his entire fraternity was out at a party. Had someone come back early?

The sound of footsteps walking up the stairs echoed through the hallway, followed by a knock on the door to his room.

“Uh…Come in…?” Hero mumbled unsurely in a hoarse voice before he coughed again. He tilted his head at the door as it swung open, and Zoey walked in with two bags—one paper, one plastic.

“You look terrible,” she teased dryly, but her freckled nose wrinkled as she smiled at him brightly enough that it reached her green eyes.

“Zoey?” Hero stumbled slowly, breathily. He rubbed his head—unsure if he was seeing things. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you were sick so I brought you some soup and a Hero sandwich but I put that in the refrigerator since I thought you probably weren’t up for solid food yet.” She reached into the paper bag and took out a plastic spoon and a to-go container of soup from his favorite soup and sandwich place in the city.

“Thank you…” Hero’s voice trailed as he struggled to catch his breath.

“It was nothing, especially compared to the homemade soup you made me when I was sick.” With a thoughtful hum, she ran her hand through her short, red hair and began fumbling around in the plastic bag. “I’ve also got you some sports drinks, water, cough drops, tissues, tea, and VapoRub.”

 “You really didn’t have to do that…” Hero insisted in a raspy whisper. “How much do I owe you?”

Zoey waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s my co-op semester so I’m basically rolling in money.” She chuckled lightly. “Plus, I wanted to do this for you. What are friends for, right? And I mean, I’m the reason you got sick.”

Hero shook his head weakly as he took a long breath. “No, you’re not.”

“Right. Sorry. It was all of us,” Zoey corrected with a lopsided twitch of her mouth. “And your lack of boundaries.”

Hero chuckled lightly in spite of himself, but it quickly turned into coughing. As Zoey scrambled to get him some water, he managed to choke out, “Sorry…”

Zoey tilted her head handing him the water to drink. “For what?”

Hero shrugged, but he took a few sips. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I’ve already had it. I’ll be fine.” She sighed with a pointed tilt of her head. “You take this ‘hero’ stuff way too seriously, you know? It’s not gonna kill you to let someone take care of you every once and awhile.” She pushed his desk chair next to his bedside and took a seat. “Now you just sit back, relax, and take easy, okay? Mama’s here.”

“I thought I was ‘Mama’,” he teased—dry and breathy. He wouldn’t have had the energy to argue with Zoey on the best day but especially not when he was so rundown and miserably ill like this, so instead he chose to banter. Mama was the nickname his roommate and Zoey’s long-time best friend Kyle had given him back in their freshman year, after all, so it seemed appropriate.

A smile tugged at Hero’s chapped lips as he watched Zoey laugh. Something warm spread through his aching chest knowing he had made her smile.

“Hey, I was ‘Mama’ before you were,” she bantered back. “But don’t worry I won’t tell Kyle.” She twisted her mouth to the side, but her expression softened as she reached out to take his hand. Frowning, she shook her head. “Your hands are so clammy.”

“Sorry…” mumbled Hero as she pushed some sweaty hair out of his face—pressing her palm to his forehead.

“You’re burning up. You have a thermometer?”

Hero nodded—then weaky motioned to his bedside table where his thermometer was sitting amongst a bunch of tissues. “I just took it. It’s 102.2.”

Zoey’s brow furrowed. “When do we call a doctor?”

Hero shrugged. “Probably if it’s over 103…” His breathy voice trailed wearily. “But there’s things you can try to bring it down before then.”

“Like a cold sponge bath like in a movie?” asked Zoey, her mouth quirking to the side. Hero shook his head.

“You want it lukewarm—not cold. If it’s cold, the blood vessels will constrict, and the body will hold onto heat…” He sighed then coughed into his elbow. After he managed to catch his breath, he added, “But tepid water is good. You can take a wet rag and use it to sponge the back of the neck or the forehead—the arms and torso would help too.”

“You want me to go get one?”

Hero’s face flushed, finally realizing what he had said and that it had come out in a way he hadn’t intended. “No, uh… I meant ‘you’ in the impersonal sense. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

Her mouth curved into a slight smile. “I’m happy to help.”

“I know,” he said, but he fidgeted, something almost bashful in his expression. “But I uh…I wouldn’t want you to have to see me…uh…”—his voice cracked and he mumbled—“shirtless.”

Zoey chuckled. “You’re adorable, you know that?” she teased. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. We’ve been to the beach how many times and you’re a lifeguard for goodness sakes. You can’t possibly be that self-conscious.”

“That’s different. That was the beach or the pool—this is…” He could feel his ears burning. “my room. We’re alone here, and—”

“And you’re sick. It’s all medical. Surely, I don’t need to explain that to you, future doctor.” She crossed her arms with a pointed look, before she clicked her tongue and bantered, “Yes, we all know you’re very attractive, Mr. Prince, but you kind of look like death warmed over right now. It’s nothing to get worked up over.”

Hero choked, then coughed repeatedly—phlegmy and guttural, definitely not attractive in the slightest. As he hacked and lurched forward, Zoey patted him on the back, firm but gentle before she rubbed her hand across his shoulders.

“Woah. Woah. Take it easy. I was just teasing you.” Her voice was soft and kind, and there was something so gentle in her eyes as she met his and apologized. “Sorry.”

Hero’s insides twisted. He could tell he had worried her, and he couldn’t stand it. He never wanted anyone to worry about him—especially not his friends.

“No. It’s okay,” he insisted when he finally caught his breath, but his words got jumbled and muddled in his foggy brain and scratchy throat. “I…I know you were... It’s just…that’s not what I meant. I was just…embarrassed. I mean you’ve already had to see me in my pajamas.” Hero stared down at his pajama shirt and pulled on the collar as his face burned and not just from the fever.

“Your grandpa pajamas?” Zoey teased dryly. His face flushed, but he nodded. Chuckling lightly, Zoey shook her head. “You do realize I’ve seen Kyle in his underwear more times than I’d care to admit, right? This is nothing. And besides, I’ve already seen them before.”

“You’ve”—Hero’s voice cracked—“seen my pajamas?”

“Well not in person, but Sunny drew me a picture of you in them.”

“Sunny drew you a picture of me in my pajamas?” Hero repeated incredulously in a disbelieving, hoarse voice.

Zoey shrugged but answered matter-of-factly. “He only draws you in your pajamas. He draws everybody in pajamas. You know, the last time I saw him he asked me about my pajamas so he could draw me in pajamas too.”

“Why—?” Hero’s voice hitched—cut off by an awkward laugh and wheezy coughing. “Why would he do that?”

“No idea. You tell me.” She paused, but Hero could only shrug his shoulders. Sunny was a talented artist, but Hero would be lying if he said he understood a lot of his abstract pieces or the reasoning behind them. Zoey’s guess as to why Sunny wanted to draw everyone in pajamas was as good as his, he supposed. “But I’m pretty sure he always draws you in these exact pajamas—long sleeves, button down shirt, stripes. I remember thinking ‘why does Sunny think Hero wears grandpa pajamas?’ but clearly it’s because you do.”

Hero chuckled lightly but tilted his head at her. “What’s wrong with my pajamas?”

“Nothing—if you’re over the age of 70,” bantered Zoey. “If you’re not, I don’t think anyone’s worn pajamas like these since the 1950s, but I guess you were always a Wally Cleaver type, huh?”

As his face burned, Hero sighed. “I don’t think I’m as charming as Wally Cleaver, and I’m definitely not as athletic as him. And he had all those girlfriends…”

“That’s a moot point,” Zoey interrupted, waving her hand at him. “Wally wanted all those girlfriends—you don’t. If you did, you absolutely could have them.”

“I’m sure that’s not—” Hero began as his blush deepened, but Zoey cut him off again.

“No, it is. Every girl in my sorority house would date you in a heartbeat,” she replied bluntly—pragmatic as if it was a well-known fact, but her mouth curved into a lopsided grin as she dryly teased. “You are Mr. Prince, after all.”

“Tamra has a boyfriend…” Hero protested—weak but somewhat playful.  

Zoey sighed, rolling her eyes. “Well okay…not Tamra then...”

“Or you,” he quietly added, but Zoey’s mouth twitched into a lopsided smile.

“I don’t know, Mr. Prince. If you were actually interested in me, I think I’d have to seriously consider it—especially now that I’ve seen you in your grandpa pajamas.” She beamed at him with a bright, teasing grin before she let out a short, playful whistle.

Hero blushed before he buried his burning face in his hands. “Zoey…”

Before either of them could say anything more, however, they were interrupted by a distant, shrill whistling sound.

“That’s the kettle,” said Zoey. “I’ll be right back with some tea for you.”

“You really don’t have to—” Hero began to weakly protest, but she cut him off with a pointed stare.

“I don’t want to hear it, Henry.”

Hero paused. It still caught him off guard every time she used his real name. It wasn’t too often that she did—only when she wanted to tell him to stop being a ‘hero.’ It was her way of reminding him to take care of himself, reminding him that it was okay if he was just ‘Henry’ for a while. If Hero was being honest, it meant a lot to him to know someone cared enough to tell him that. Zoey had been telling him that for years now, but she only started calling him ‘Henry’ to do it after he had told her about Mari.

To this day he wasn’t sure why exactly he had told her in the first place besides the fact she had sort of figured it out on her own, but he was grateful that he had told her the truth, had finally been able to share that with someone. He would never forget the way she had cried for him—held him, told him that she wished he and Mari had gotten their forever. He had been so stunned, so moved by her empathy and kindness, that he had just panicked—trying to apologize for making her sad, for making her cry. After a lot of back and forth of him apologizing profusely and her gentle reassurances that it was okay, she had finally just cut him off in that spunky little way of hers. “No. None of that, Henry,” she had said with a pointed emphasis on his real name, trying her best not to smile as she said it for possibly the first time. Even so, she had insisted, “I’m serious. I’m going to keep calling you that until you stop that. Stop being a ‘Hero’—stop worrying about everybody else for just a second. It won’t kill you to be a little selfish for once…and it’ll honestly make the rest of us look better.”

Hero chuckled lightly to himself just thinking about it. She certainly kept her word—pulled his real name out for that reason whenever she felt he needed reminding of that. There was always a certain warmth and a flutter in his chest whenever he heard her say it.

A smile tugged at his mouth as he stifled a laugh, and the way her lips twitched in the corners made him realize she was trying not to laugh now too. Could it be that even after all this time, it still felt a little unnatural, a little awkward for her to call him that? After all, she generally called him ‘Hero’ or if she was feeling playful or cheeky ‘Mr. Prince.’

Hero’s chuckling was soon drowned out by coughing again, and Zoey patted his back and handed him tissues, water, and a cough drop until he finally calmed again.

“Still think you don’t need me?” she quipped, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted quietly.

Her smile widened before she gave him one final pat on the back then took off down the stairs. “I’ll be right back with the tea.”

Hero took a long, shaky breath, trying his best to stay awake as he waited for her to return. His mind was feeling hazy again—sluggish and foggy from fever and exhaustion, but a question nagged at him. How had Zoey known he was sick? Yes, she was very perceptive, and there had certainly been times he was almost convinced she had to be a mind reader but…he hadn’t been that ill when he talked to her last. He supposed Kyle could have said something, but as far as Hero knew, Kyle had just assumed he was napping not battling with a flu.

“Here’s your tea,” said Zoey, swiftly reappearing with a warm mug, a gift from his fraternity brothers that read ‘World’s Best Mama.’ Hero laughed every time he saw it, though this time it came out more like a breathy wheeze then a cough. “It’s lemon and echinacea since you’re sick. I put a little honey in it for you too.”

Hero smiled as she handed him the cup. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Zoey was one of his best friends. She probably knew more about him than anyone else—of course, that would extend to knowing how he took his tea. But it wouldn’t extend to knowing he was sick, would it?

“Thank you,” he mumbled, taking a sip of his cup of tea before he took a long, shaky breath. “Hey…Zoey?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know I was sick?” Hero swallowed hard—then coughed again. Zoey tilted her head pointedly at him.

“It’s kind of obvious,” she quipped—deflecting. Hero sighed. He knew a lot about that himself.

“Yeah…but did someone tell you? Ask you to check up on me?”

Zoey sighed heavily, but she finally admitted. “Yes. Scotty mentioned it when he called me earlier. He said you were too sick to drive home this weekend so you had to cancel your trip.”

Hero blinked at her. It took a minute for the words she had said to register. Scotty was her nickname for Kel, some reference he had never quite gotten himself, but it seemed to make his brother happy to have a nickname. Hero’s head ached. His brother…? “Kel?” he asked in a weary confusion. “Kel called you?”

Zoey nodded. “I helped him with his math homework.”

Hero swallowed hard. Somehow he knew that wasn’t the entire truth. The thought made something twist in his chest. He bit his lip as he quietly asked, “Is he worried about me?”

“What do you think?” Zoey paused, but from the look she was giving him now, Hero knew the answer, if he hadn’t already. “You two are a lot alike you know—you both worry about each other but won’t really say.”

“I don’t want Kel to worry...” The words slipped out without him really thinking about them—honest, vulnerable, real. The feverish haze was loosening his tongue, it seemed. Hero’s brow furrowed. He didn’t like it for the same reasons he didn’t like drinking. It felt like losing control—only this time, he didn’t have the energy to care too much.  

“Then I don’t think not telling him anything is the answer,” Zoey replied. “Kel’s pretty smart, you know? He knows something’s wrong even when you won’t say—knew you were way sicker than you let on. He asked if I could stop by and check on you.”

Hero’s face flushed. He couldn’t really process what she was saying, “Kel did that?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

Hero swallowed hard. He met her eyes—hoping the look in them would say louder than any words that she already knew why. Ever since their fight, he had felt Kel slipping away—walking on eggshells around him like he was scared he was fragile and would snap again. No matter what he did to try to reassure Kel that he was okay and that he would never lash out at him like that ever again, Hero couldn’t shake the feeling that he was losing his brother. He tried his best to stay connected—talking to him all the time, planning trips home to visit him, even letting him stay with him in the city, and even though things had been getting better since they had learned the truth two years ago, Hero knew that they would never be the same. They could never be the same, not anymore. Not after…

“I really hurt him…” Hero’s voice cracked—breathy, dazed, but heart-wrenchingly guilty even all these years later.

He hadn’t realized he had said that aloud, until Zoey gently reassured him, “And you apologized and moved on. That’s all, in the past now. I don’t think Kel holds it against you at all.” She paused, sighed. “What if he’s sitting around, saying the same thing—worrying the same thing…?”

Hero’s chest ached, but he shook his head. “No, I…”

“Hero,” Zoey sighed, cutting him off. “If there’s distance between you and Kel, it’s only because the two of you won’t just talk to each other. If you did, maybe you’d realize you’re both scared of the exact same thing, and that it’s not worth being worried about. You had one fight. It doesn’t mean your relationship is just broken forever.”   

“It was a really big fight,” Hero gently protested, swallowing hard before he tried to catch his breath. “There are some things you just can’t come back from.”

“And I can promise you, this is not one of them.” She reached out and took his hand again, holding it tightly until he looked up at her and her reassuring green eyes. “You should hear the way Kel talks about you. It’s constant—all the time, no matter what we’re talking about. We’ll be working on polynomial functions and suddenly he’ll just start going on and on about how you always got all As on your report card or how you jumped into a lake to save Sunny and Basil or how you won some hot dog eating contest. He polishes all your trophies while you’re away at school. He’d be the first to tell you that you are the kindest, most amazing person he’s ever known, and he wants to be just like you. You’re his hero—no pun intended. And nothing you could possibly say could change that—could change how much he looks up to you.”

Hero’s face flushed red—he could feel the tips of his ears burning as he turned away from her staring down at his duvet. “He…he said all that?”

“He didn’t have to. Scotty wears his heart on his sleeve. It’s obvious, and honestly you only have to talk to him for five minutes to know how important you are to him. It honestly makes me wonder a little about what Jared and Lorraine say about me—probably nothing nice,” she chuckled teasingly with an affectionate roll of her eyes. “I can almost guarantee you; most people are not talking about their siblings like they’re actual saints behind their backs.”

Hero chuckled lightly, but his expression softened—something warm spreading through his chest as he thought about Kel. Could that really be true?

He sighed, pushing the thought away—grateful for the opportunity Zoey had given him to change the subject to her own family. Hero knew that wasn’t her intention, but he was taking the opportunity anyway. No matter how easy Zoey was to talk to and how many private and difficult things he had told her about himself, he still didn’t like to be the center of conversation and would never enjoy talking about himself. Zoey didn’t enjoy that either, so he wouldn’t want to put her on the spot, but this was about her siblings, right?

Hero didn’t know Zoey’s younger brother Jared very well, but he didn’t really seem like the type to have many nice things to say about anyone, but her twin sister, Lorraine, was also a good friend of his. They often knitted or did arts and crafts together during which time Lorraine tended to gush about her sister in a way Hero found very sweet and endearing. He hoped Lorraine wouldn’t mind if he told her that.  

“Lorraine has nothing but nice things to say about you,” he admitted with a slight smile. “She’s always telling me how smart, driven, and beautiful you are. How you’re strong and honest but so kind, so much softer than you want people to know. She says you’d make a great girlfriend.” Hero blushed. That last part had just slipped out—he probably wouldn’t have said it, if he wasn’t so feverish, but Zoey just laughed.

“Lorraine said that to you?” She sighed, rolling her eyes somewhat affectionately but the look in them was genuinely guilty. “Sorry. I’ll talk to her.”

As he coughed, Hero shook his head. “No, it’s…it’s okay. She’s right…” His voice trailed, distant and breathy, but he couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth, “You are all of those things, and if you did ever want to date someone, that person would be very lucky…”

“Not nearly as lucky as the person who gets your heart, Mr. Prince.”

Even though Hero was sure she was only teasing him, his face flushed anyway—burning to the tips of his ears. He pursed his lips together, then stared down at his hands on the duvet. “It’s pretty broken…I’m not sure it’s much of a prize anymore,” he mumbled, trying his best to play along despite the sadness that crept into his words.

He bit his lip, but he felt her warm, gentle hand reach out to take his. He couldn’t look at her face, but he felt her squeeze his hand, heard her voice—quiet but sincere. “I don’t think that’s true.”

As he took a long, shallow breath, Hero shivered, but he wasn’t sure it was from the fever. Zoey let go of his hand immediately.

“You’re trembling. Let’s get you another blanket,” she said, turning towards Kyle’s bed. “You can have Kyle’s. He won’t mind.”

“It’s okay. I have a quilt…It’s under the bed.” Hero struggled to catch his breath as he leaned forward, trying to pull himself out of bed to look for it, but Zoey gently reached out her hand to stop him.

“I’ll get it,” she insisted; then she pulled the quilt out of one of the plastic bins under Hero’s bed—unfurling it then tucking it around him, all the way up to his chin. With a sigh, she ran her hand across the carefully stitched pattern of bright orange and yellow marigolds. “It’s beautiful.”

“My Tía Gloria made it for me after Mari died.” The words just slipped out—automatic, unfiltered. Hero flushed. He hadn’t meant to say that—probably wouldn’t have to anyone else, maybe not even to her if he was a better state.

“Oh Hero…” Zoey began quietly, but Hero cut her off with a fit of coughing that upset his blankets. Zoey pat his back again, but he could feel her tender hand running across his shoulders long after he had stopped coughing.

“Zoey…I…” he began, hoping the words would come to him if he just started talking, but thankfully she cut him off.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything—unless of course, you want to,” she paused, blinking at him with a soft expression in her eyes. “But I don’t need explanations, especially not now when you’re sick.”

Hero sighed in relief, and hoped the look in his eyes would convey the gratitude he didn’t quite have the strength to express at the moment. “Thank you...”

“Don’t mention it,” shrugged Zoey. “You look tired. You want me to go?”

“You can stay if you want—maybe watch a movie…?”  

Zoey smiled, but as she glanced over at the tv and shelves of tapes which, naturally almost all belonged to Kyle, she teased. “Let me guess: the choices are raunchy comedy or sports biopic?” 

Hero chuckled, lightly, breathily. Zoey certainly knew Kyle and his movie collection very well. He supposed he would expect that given how long the two of them had been friends. “We rented The Godfather from Blockbuster.”

“That’s not bad,” hummed Zoey. “But if we’re talking about Brando’s mob movies, On The Waterfront is better.”

A smile twitched in the corners of Hero’s mouth. “I have that one.”

“Really?” Zoey asked, her brow furrowing, and Hero nodded. “So you really do like old black-and-white movies after all, huh? Here I was thinking you were all talk.”

Hero let out a few chuckling heavy breaths, then swallowed hard. Finally, he took a sip of water trying to cool the burning of his hoarse throat. “I only have a few tapes. Most are in color, but I have some black-and-white.” He paused—shutting his eyes as he tried to clear his head—sifting through the fogginess to focus on his tape collection until he could picture it in the feverish haze of his mind. “Casablanca, Roman Holiday, It’s A Wonderful Life, 12 Angry Men, Christmas in Connecticut…”

“You do not have Christmas in Connecticut over there,” Zoey interrupted in disbelief.

Hero took a deep breath, but he nodded. “It’s on the bottom shelf.”

“I’ve never met another person who has even heard of that movie,” laughed Zoey, but Hero just shrugged, pulling the quilt up around his shoulders again.

“It’s one of my favorites. Always makes me laugh. I love the scene where she tries to flip the flapjacks and the pancake sticks to the ceiling.” Hero laughed then, par for the course, coughed.

“It’s one of my mom’s favorite movies too,” Zoey said as he handed him his water, giving him a firm but gentle pat on the back for good measure. “I used to wonder if that was because the main character falls in love with a navy guy.”

“Like your dad…?” asked Hero, worrying only after the fact that it was a prying question. He didn’t know much about Zoey’s father except that he was an admiral in the navy, and, according to Kyle, particularly stern, serious, and somewhat frightening. Zoey, however, only shrugged.

“I don’t know. I think my dad is a lot rougher around the edges than Jefferson Jones.” Her lips curved into a smile. “Jefferson’s pretty soft—quite the catch actually: sincere, generous, kind, domestic…and he can play piano.”

Hero’s brow furrowed, and he stumbled in confusion, “Is…that a…?”

“Perk?” Zoey finished for him. Then she chuckled dryly and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Are you just saying that because you know I can play?” asked Hero dryly, but his mouth twitched in the corners.

“You know I’ve never actually heard you play before,” she teased back. “You could be terrible. In which case, it wouldn’t be a perk at all—more like a deterrent.”

Hero chuckled lightly. “I probably am terrible. I’m really rusty, and out of practice.”

“Well, we’ll never know for sure will we.” Her mouth curved into a lopsided grin before her expression softened. “Though Scotty told me you used to be quite the pianist—had a lot of fun with it. What did you used to play when you were in practice?”

“Nothing too complicated. I…I think my favorite song to play was ‘Vienna.’”

“Billy Joel?” asked Zoey, and Hero hummed. “That has a great piano part.”

“Yeah it’s pretty fun. I’ve always been a fan.”

“I can see that…” teased Zoey glancing over at the stack of CDs on Hero’s bedside table. Cold Spring Harbor was on the top—probably because Hero had been listening to a particular song on it on repeat. His face flushed as he thought about why, but he swallowed hard and shrugged his shoulders, trying his best to push the thought away.

“I used to annoy Kel with it a little, I think,” he admitted. “I played it over and over. He once threw a pillow at me while I was practicing and yelled ‘Don’t you know any other songs?’” Hero chuckled breathily, and Zoey laughed.

“When was the last time you played it?”

“I dunno. It’s been years…had to have been before Mari died.” He paused—catching his breath, but he kept talking, almost like he couldn’t stop. “I haven’t really played anything since then. I played a few bars on her piano before her family moved away, but…” His voice hitched, and his chest ached—panging in that all too familiar space in his heart that Mari had left behind. “You know I…honestly I learned to play piano because she loved it. I enjoyed it sure—it was fun, but Mari…Mari was the one who had real passion for music and I guess…I just wanted to be part of that. After she died, I just…I didn’t want to play anymore—didn’t want to play without her.”

Hero stopped—his face flushing. He hadn’t meant to say all of that. Talking about Mari with Zoey was getting easier—clearly, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, just like he wasn’t sure if he would have even said all of that if he hadn’t been sick or feverish. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, to know that he made the smile disappear from her face, made something sad pass over her eyes.

“I’m sorry…” he began to apologize. “I keep talking about her…” Swallowing hard, he stared down intently at his quilt—running his hands over the thoughtfully embroidered orange and yellow marigolds—a symbol of hope, remembrance, a connection that endures even after death.

“It’s okay, Hero…” said Zoey, quiet, gentle as she reached out to pat his hand. “And it’s okay if you never want to play piano again either. You don’t have to. It’s nothing to feel guilty about.”

Hero took a long breath, watching as Zoey’s fingers slipped between his. He curled his hand catching hers—intertwining their fingers, holding on tightly to her. “I’d play for you if you wanted…”

“I know you would,” Zoey replied with a tilt of her head and a kind smile. “And as much as I would love to hear you play piano, I’d only want you to play because that’s what you wanted—not because you felt obligated. Someday if you see a piano and you just feel like playing, I hope you will and then you can call me and play for me, but don’t force yourself. It should be something that makes you happy, like it used to.”

Hero’s chest ached, but he managed the twitch of a bantering smile as he asked dryly, “How else will I pay you back for taking care of me when I was sick?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Our debts are paid,” she insisted with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You took care of me first remember, and besides I’ve already gotten my reward which is getting to see you in your grandpa pajamas,” she teased winking playfully at him.

“Zoey!” Hero burst into a fit of laughter mixed with intense, nasty coughing.

“If you’re going to have a coughing fit every time you laugh, do you really think we should watch this movie?” she quipped, but Hero shrugged.

“It’s fine. I’m probably just going to fall asleep anyway.”

Chuckling, Zoey got up from her seat and put the tape into the VCR with a “Okay. Whatever you say” then she curled up on the edge of Kyle’s bed—pulling her knees to her chest as she leaned back into his mountain of throw pillows.

Hero chuckled a little himself before his weary eyes started drooping again. He had been right, of course. He started nodding off during the opening credits and was sound asleep before he even got anywhere close to his favorite flapjack scene. He wasn’t sure if he had dreamed it or imagined it in a half-asleep daze, but he could have sworn that once the movie had ended, he had felt gentle fingers tangling in his hair as it was pushed out of his forehead and Zoey’s voice whispering, “C.J.’s back now and will keep an eye on you, so I’m going to head out. You take care of yourself, Henry…”

*-*-*

Two Weeks Later…

“You made it!” exclaimed Kel excitedly as Hero walked through the front door with his suitcase. Kel threw his arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Sorry it took so long,” Hero chuckled lightly as he scratched the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly.

“Are you feeling better at least?” asked Kel with a kind smile, and Hero nodded.

“Yeah…I was only sick for a couple of days, and my friends looked after me.” Hero paused, meeting Kel’s eyes with an expression that said more than his words, “Thanks for that, Kel.”

Kel flushed a little, but he laughed. So Hero had figured that out after all? He should’ve expected that from his brother. He was always so smart. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind too much that Kel had meddled, not that he’d really tell him if he had. Still Kel smiled and teased, “Hey, no problem. You’re lucky I didn’t drive up there myself.”  

“Your father and I almost drove up too,” said their mom before she pulled Hero into another hug herself. “It was horrible thinking of you so sick in the city all alone.”

Hero’s face softened, as he pulled away from their mother to look her in the eyes. “I was fine, Mom. Please don’t worry.”

“Hero! Hero! Wanna play zoo?” exclaimed Sally, twirling around him with her favorite plastic animal toys until he scooped her up into a hug.

“Of course, Sally, but uh…”

“Give him a minute,” Kel interjected with a good-natured laugh. “He hasn’t even taken his coat off yet.

“Oh let me take that,” said their dad—patting Hero heartily on the back as he slipped his arms out of his coat. “It’s good to have you home.”

“Good to be home, Dad,” Hero replied with a kind smile.

“Let me take your bag upstairs,” exclaimed Kel reaching for the suitcase Hero had brought with him, but his brother reached out a hand to stop him.

“Oh…you don’t have to do that. I can get it.”

Kel waved his hand at him. “Don’t be silly. It’s just upstairs. Come on. You can freshen up for dinner too.”

“I made all your favorites,” said Mom. “And I even ordered a hero sandwich for you from Gino’s.”

Hero scratched the back of his neck—the slightest tint of pink in his cheeks. “Thanks, Mom, but you really didn’t have to go through all that trouble.”

Kel snickered and was still snickering as Hero followed him up the stairs. “You know Mom’s just going to make a big deal out of every time you visit even if you tell her not to, right?”

Hero sighed conceding, “Yeah…”

As Kel opened the door to their room, he set Hero’s suitcase down on his bed—still perfectly made from the last time he had visited, but as he turned back to his brother he paused, tilting his head curiously as he watched Hero staring wide-eyed at their old keyboard, pushed up against the wall next to the door.

“Oh uh…yeah…we found that when we were cleaning out the garage—” Kel shrugged, scratching the nape of his neck. “Thought we might as well set it up again.”

“Are you going to start playing again?” Hero asked, and Kel laughed.

“Nah. I don’t think I can even read music anymore, but maybe Sally will want to. She likes to come in here and bang on it sometimes—doesn’t sound much like music though.”

Hero chuckled, but before he could say anything, Kel said, “Or you could…if you wanted. I found a bunch of your old books and sheet music and stuff.” He motioned to a box on the ground near the keyboard, but he twisted his mouth to the side. He didn’t want to seem pushy. He knew Hero hadn’t played since Mari had died, and he probably wouldn’t want to ever again. Kel supposed, it was just one of those things his brother just couldn’t bring himself to do without Mari.

Kel sighed—blinking at Hero’s unreadable expression. Had it made him sad? He couldn’t tell. Maybe he should have given him a heads up about the keyboard or hidden it in the garage or something while he was visiting?

“Yeah. Thanks, Kel,” shrugged Hero, clearly putting this conversation to rest.

“Well uh…” Kel began to stumble before his mother’s voice called for him.

“Kel, can you come give me a hand for a minute?”

“Sure, Mom!” he yelled before turning back to Hero with a somewhat helpless shrug of his shoulders. “Hey, uh…I’ll be right back okay?”

Hero nodded, and Kel disappeared through the doorway. He shook his head. Why did everything have to be so awkward?

Kel sighed, and his chest ached. He knew why. But he swallowed hard—pushing the thought away, focusing instead on helping his mom set the table. As he was setting out some silverware, he stopped abruptly—his ears perking up at the sound of distant music, a familiar progression of notes he recognized.

“Do you hear that?” gasped Kel in disbelief, but it seemed his mom could only blink at him with wide, surprised eyes as Sally gushed and giggled.

“So pretty!”

Kel nearly dropped the silverware he was holding—fumbling around with the forks and spoons until he finally dropped them in a disorganized heap on the table and raced up the stairs—that all-too-familiar song growing louder and louder. As he burst through the door of his room, he could scarcely believe his eyes. Hero was sitting at the keyboard—his hands gliding across the keys playing music again.

“Hero?” Kel choked in a breathy disbelief which must have startled his brother because he stopped playing abruptly—clearly bumping the wrong keys in surprise creating a dissonant chord.

“Oh uh…sorry…” he mumbled, his face flushing somewhat sheepishly as he fidgeted—recoiling his hands away from the keyboard. “I just uh…I saw the keyboard and…wanted to play…”

Kel could only blink at him with wide, dark eyes. “You wanted to play piano?”

Hero’s blush deepened, but he nodded. “Yeah…uh…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I know you don’t really like that song but the music was on the top of the stack and…”

His voice trailed, and Kel’s expression softened, brightening into a wide smile. He supposed Hero was right. Once, what felt like a lifetime ago, he had given his brother all kinds of grief for playing that particular song over and over, but in the years that had followed, he would have given anything to hear him play it one more time, would have given anything to hear him play again. And now that he hadn’t heard it in so long—now that their room, their home had been quiet and empty for so long…

“I…I can try to play something else…” Hero chuckled awkwardly, but Kel cut him off.  

“No, I’ve never been happier to hear anything in my whole life.”

Hero laughed lightly, and his mouth curved into a smile—a real one that reached his eyes.

Kel’s chest ached. He had missed that even more than the music. He rushed forward—throwing his arms around his brother and hugging him tightly, hoping that gesture would say more than his words ever could.

“Kel!” Hero gasped quietly, leaning backward in surprise, his shoulders stiffening a little before he relaxed. He wrapped his arms around his brother, running his hand across his back as Kel pressed his chin to his shoulder.

Kel shut his eyes tightly, but he whispered with the brightest smile on his face, “It’s so good to have you back.”

He could feel the chuckle reverberating in Hero’s chest before his brother patted him on the head and whispered, “It’s good to be back.”

[minecraftbookshelf]

The LiveAndLetRain Master-Master Post

Because tumblr search function is notoriously unreliable, to the point im struggling to find my own things when i want them for reference so im making this, mostly for myself but if you want to use it go for it!

That being said, my tag for my original posts is #rain rambles

I tag all the Technoblade memorial art I reblog with #technoblade never dies (specifically the memorial-vibes art, so this is a bit subjective but just a heads up if this is something you want to avoid)

I am on AO3

This is my pinned post on my main which is an index of all my fandom specific sideblogs

MASTER POSTS:

The AU In Which All the Marriages Are Arranged/Marriage of State AU Empires SMP Season 1 AU featuring fantasy agricultural economics and linguistics and arranged marriages that cover the full romantic-platonic spectrum. This is my major project, currently. Everything relating to it an be found under the tag #marriage of state au and the master post has important posts, fics, art, and organizational tags linked on it.

Avatar: The Legend of Jimmy Group discussion and brainstorming post that has spawned at least one au, and some fic and art

FANFICTION:

Adventures in Grian-Napping (Life Series Urban Fantasy AU based off of Grian’s LimLife AFK Episode) COMPLETE - Tumblr || AO3

Limited Life Oneshots - Tumblr 1 2 3 || AO3

The Elements of an Inter-Dimensional Prison Break (Life Series & Evolution SMP AU taking place overlapping and at the end of Limited Life) WIP - Tumblr Part 1 Part 2 || AO3 || Summarized [Currently in stasis while i rework it and revamp it]

To Walk A Mile In Each Others Shoes (My take on the concept of Double Life soulbond pairs sharing physical traits and abilities over the bond) COMPLETE - Team Ranchers || Team Box || Dessert Duo || The Boat Boys || The Homewreckers || Bad Math || Tilly Death Do Us Part || AO3

Gone Fishing (Life Series Urban Fantasy AU ft. Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss + Martyn. Oneshot) COMPLETE - Tumblr || AO3

Flip-Flopped Hermits (ficlets written for the hermit fanon swap prompt meme) STANDALONE COLLECTION, WIP - AO3 || Tumblr - Hypno & Stress Cub & xB and Pearl & Mumbo (bonus Grian) Gem & Impulse Etho & Bdubs

Marriage of State AU Series WIP - AO3 || Tumblr links in the AU masterpost

After the End (SOS SMP post-finale ficlet ft. fWhip and Joey. Two alternate endings, I recommend reading the second one first) COMPLETE - AO3 || Tumblr Ending 1 Ending 2

LIFE SERIES (and overlap) META & THINKY THOUGHTS:

Concerning Patterns Out of Context Snippet from Future Fanfiction Shortform 3rd Life Ren & Joel Compare/Contrast Repeating Patterns: Smajor, Ren, & Martyn 3rd & Last Life Ethoslab & LDshadowlady Final Death Scars || The Diagrams Thereof: TAG FOR THE UPDATED VERSIONS The original posts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Martyn's Betrayal Watcher Lore Meets Hermitcraft Recap Rain Judges the Watchers for Feeding Inefficiently Middle Child Jimmy Solidarity Evolution/Life Family Tree & Relationship Web (Updated version at the bottom of the post) Falling Birbs This one messed up my notifications inbox for like two days and it is specifically inthelittlewoods fault Life Series Wing Headcanons 3rd Life Flower Husbands: Fated Tragedy Scott Smajor Has Been Spiting the Watchers Since Third Life The Ship Burns Everything Burns The More Things Change The More They Stay The Same

RANDOM BITS AND BOBS:

Life Series Lore/Bit Poll OG Edition (Season Specific Follow-up Coming Soon!) Watercolor Sniffer Skizzleman Skizzleman Does Whatever A Skizzle Can The True Potential of Empires S1: Scott and Gem's kidnapping MCYT Wings: Grian || Jimmy Solidarity || Pearlescentmoon || Philza || Hannahxxrose || Geminitay (not wings but close enough) Mumbo Jumbo was the EvoSMP Escape Plan All Along Empires S2 White Collar AU For the Poor? My Most Correct MCC Opinion The Price of Being Birb

[thekuraning]

fic writing asks : 17 and 27, 28?

hope you’re doing well!! I’m just about to finally catch up with the latest chapter of moving on in a maelstrom (I haven’t checked my ao3 inbox for updates in a hot minute!!), thank you as ever for writing!

WASABI THANK YOU FOR SENDING im hanging in there i hope youre doing good too <3 and i hope you enjoy the latest chapter grelhbqughoeiqg

:') i talk a lot gomen

17. talk about your writing and editing process

so i'm definitely not the kind of person who sits down and outlines their story and all the plot points or does a ton of planning (kind of a bad habit probably!!) and mostly my fics comes from some broad concepts or ideas, vibes, or any sort of vivid scene I imagine up while im daydreaming on the way to work, and then I just kind of run with it. Actually I think from all the fics I've actually tried to follow an outline for in the past, only one has gotten past a handful of chapters (that would be Turning Point, which is shockingly complete!)

And like the scenes or vibes or ideas aren't always related to major plot points or anything either, they're just character moments and either a) do not need backstory to explain the situation, so they get to be a oneshot, or b) are VERY PARTICULAR about the backstory of the Scene and then they end up a full-fledged novella/novel/epic.

So like for example, I started on Maelstrom fic for a very specific scene with a very specific character--and you might expect it to be related to the main villain! Except I didn't even have a design for him until the day I sat down to write chapter 5 (which came to me in a caffeine-fueled fever dream) and wasn't even sure what his NEXT ability would be until chapter 8. Yeah he's the main antagonist. But this entire fic. This entire damn fic. Is a stepping stone. To a scene where Yuri is going insane under house arrest and Barnaby goes to visit him. And it's the funniest fucking thing in my head. Like I want to be so clear this is just an elaborate slide puzzle to a one-paragraph gag and I have no idea if the set-up is even worth it. But then once I get started writing things kind of start to fall into place like dominoes because I spend a lot of time overthinking the world building and the canon orz

Anyways as for editing uhhhh well!!! You have probably noticed!! I have SO MANY TYPOS IN MY CHAPTERS!!! My cat hears me say so many swears after chapters are posted :( I tend to be like constantly reading and rereading and editing... the first half of a chapter. The further I go the more excited I get to post! And the less I end up reading. So uhhh yeah if anyone ever goes back to read any fic I've ever posted EVER and you're like huh I don't remember that or huh I thought it was different yeah. yeah it was. I edited it 3 months later when I reread part and realized I had 15 typos, non-sequitors, and the worst sentence composition known to man OTL

27. your favorite part of the writing process

getting experimental with it! :') i like fucking around with imagery and description and pacing to try and see what kind of vibes i can squeeze out of something. actually i forget how long ago it was but i think my buddy isleofair sent an ask once where I went on a rant about what makes a slow burn a slow burn and ever since then I've REALLY wanted to try and write a slow burn that diagetically takes place in like. one or two hours. i have no idea how it would work but i think it would be really fun to try.

otherwise i think my favorite thing is like world building but through the little background details, like trying to squish in regional dialects or brands or in-universe entertainment franchises. I was really fucking proud of myself for Barnaby's Gatorade ad reel and his promotional coffee in Maelstrom lmfaooo or like getting so fucky with Proton's slang in my pokemon fics. Still trying to figure out how to write an entire oneshot about no one understanding what he means when he says "freezycaff."

28. your least favorite part of the writing process

>:( what do you MEAN I have to have a coherent plot!!! What do you MEAN I should probably plan to avoid plotholes!!! What do you MEAN i have to write through writer's block or take breaks when I burn out creatively!!!!! NO STOPPING ONLY VIBES ONLY GOOFS AND GAFFS!!! ONLY FICS!!!

On a more serious note. My least favorite part really is since I don't do a lot of planning beforehand :( sometimes all I got be them vibes, and getting from point a to point b can be like pulling teeth if I'm not like. manic. A lot of times I feel like I have a big picture with a lot of missing little pieces, and sometrimes I just can't figure out a satisfying way to get over it. Then the perma-hiatus hammer comes out UmU RIP in pepperonis dead fics from 2018.

Thank u again for sending!! <3

[comfortlesshurt]

September 2024 Plans!

As promised, I'm focusing on editing this month! No fandom update--you're still stuck with my Voltron obsession. I plan to publish one new chapter or oneshot tops since I'm focused on other things. (I have not been in a mood to finalize drafts, so I keep starting or working on them but not finishing.)

Had another mid-month change of plans, so if you saw the original goals, no you didn't!

General goals:

Newly published WC: 3,022/3,000

Have VLD surpass SM WC: 51,386/100,258

Since I missed the for funsies goal last month, here we are again aiming for 250k overall hits on AO3 by the end of the month! (Is it important? No, but it will make me feel good to be able to say I have a quarter of a million hits, you know?)

Recycling some goals from last month:

Finish 40k in 42 days by 9/14

Finish one bingo prompt

Full outline for LTS(LTFH) fic 1

Seven Songs of Suffering:

Did I forget I said I was gonna do a September challenge? Hell yeah, I did! These will be on the shorter side, and I'm not promising to do all seven. (But all seven is the goal in theory.) Since I forgot, I'm giving myself an extra week to wrap these up, so they're now due 9/21.

Control - Halsey

Sweet but Psycho - Ava Max

Bury a Friend - Billie Eilish

Daylight - David Kushner

Secrets - OneRepublic

I Can't Decide - Scissor Sisters

Rescue - Lauren Daigle

Editing by priority:

All are getting a technical review and a review of summary/tags, but some older fics are getting some extra help. This is NOT intended to be complete by the end of the month. It's just a list to keep me on track for when I don't feel like drafting new stuff.

Emeto: title change, style update

Flu: title change, style update

on the run: deadass don't remember this one, so we'll see

5 Times Lance Doesn't Matter +1 Time He Finally Does

Smiling 'cause you're used to it (a house that's always haunted)

Chemicals, chemicals in my brain (where'd you go, where'd you go anyway?)

Nowhere to call home (so I'll pack and run away)

5 Times Peter Struggled with Spider Metabolism, +1 Time Tony Helped: possible style update

Whump Bingo: major edit--these were barely edited in the first place, oops

Anywhere but Here: style update

Sick Days

Take the worst situation (make a worse situation)

We are the reckless (we are the wild youth)

Cocktails and Consequences: content edit since I barely drank before I wrote this and didn't research alcohol at all

Sickdays 5.0 Day 7: Temperature: title

See me here (meet me here)

And it hits between the eyes on this side

Sickdays 2.0 Day 2 & 5: Sick at a Party & Gently Tinged with Red: title, brainstorm for a closing chapter

Sickdays Day 5: Rapid Onset: title

Impressions

Sickdays 4.0 Day 1: The Oblivious Partner: title

Sickdays 4.0 Day 7: Chain Reaction: title

Sickdays 5.0 Day 6: Public Illness: title

I've got you stuck on my mind (and it's driving me crazy)

Days locked in a haze (trying to forget you)

Sickdays Day 6: Public Illness: title

I want to know who you are (I want to know who you were)

Will you stay with me for another day? (I don't want to be alone in this state)

I'm keeping you at bay (and I'm lonely)

Sickdays 5.0 Day 3: Caretaking Focus: title

Weightless (only wait for a fall)

Hiding It

I feel strange

Bullies and Bailing: possible content edit because I just don't like this one at all

Made a Mess

Season Three

Oh god

I'm not saying I told you so...

Sickdays 5.0 Day 4: Not the Norm: title and possible content edit because I HATE this fic with a burning passion

Accident

Don't ruin this

Rapid Onset

No Right Side: content edit because I don't like how this came out

Frostbite

Happily Ever After

Wes

Touch of the skin brings trembles and shivers

Favorite Outfit

Sleepless folks watching light grow (through their early morning windows)

Folklore

Origins

Ember

Monster

Red

Food

Peace

Road Trip

Fentonworks

+2 anonymous works

LTS(LTFH):

As always, I'll be working on this in the background. Still hoping to have the first fic ready for the new year!

Fic 1: reach 50% completion on 100k rough draft (reach goal: 60%)

Fic 2: reach 40% completion on 50k rough draft (reach goal: 50%)

Fics 3 & 4: note ideas, adjust outlines, & just generally figure these out.

Side stories: add content as it comes up in main fics.

Longer term:

As always, this is a loose plan and I may adjust future goals based on current performance.

September 2024 - editing published works and drafting LTS(LTFH).

October 2024 - currently looking into Whumptober; if not that, it's another big LTS(LTFH) month.

November 2024 - still NaNoWriMo (though now unofficially), definitely LTS(LTFH) as the project. I won't be starting from a blank doc, but I never was a NaNo rule follower, and I'm just happy to add 50k to a project or split it between two or three.

December 2024 - LTS(LTFH) major content and continuity edit plus first technical edit. (Or possible writing break month. TBD.)

January 2025 - LTS(LTFH) fic 2 & 3 & aspiring first publish date for fic 1.

February 2025 - LTS(LTFH) fic 2 & 3.

[forerussake]

Twenty questions for fic writers

I was tagged by the wonderful @elenothar! Thankssss❤️

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

45

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

456.761

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I've written for a bunch of fandoms over the years. Currently I'm most active in Guardian and adjacent fandoms, but I think I could and would still write for pretty much everything I've written for in the past. So the full list would be Guardian, the Silmarillion, QZGS, MDZS/CQL, YYM, the Rebel, DMBJ, and some RPF :D

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Counting the promises as yet unbroken (165)

A ballad of burning lungs and bated breath (125)

A hand within a hand (holding light) (120)

Kaleidoscope (114)

Crowded full of parting's feeling (99)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to always respond to comments, bc i myself really like it when an author responds to my comments, so I would be a hypocrite not to do it myself. But also I kind of enjoy that interaction. Especially if ppl have commented on specific lines or on the themes. Sometimes commenters have insights about my fics that even I didn't have myself while writing, and I like to let them know their thoughts were appreciated :)

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Well, I am an angst writer, but I often try to make the endings of my fics at least a bit hopeful :/// I think the angstiest ending to a finished fic would have to go to either Crowded full of parting's feeling, which ends with LXC being (for the first time in his life) truly and utterly alone. Kind of a bummer. Or perhaps the easy part, which ends with ZYL crying himself to sleep on the kitchen floor.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

As I said, I try to make my endings hopeful, if not truly happy, but there are a few true happy endings to my fics! I think my RPF pieces tend to be the happiest bc I am slightly less likely to put these guys through the wringer the way I do with my truly fictional blorbos. I think the happiest however is homecoming, which ends with WJX finally coming out as trans and being her best and truest self.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet??? Hopefully it stays that way! I do write RPF though, so I'm very ready for one of the crazy antis to one day drop into my inbox calling me all sorts of nasty things for *looks at writing scribbled on hand* having the audacity to put characters in fictional situations that don't hurt the real ppl that inspired these characters in any way??? yeah :PPP

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Occasionally, when the muse strikes! But my ace brain finds it quite difficult. My mind tends to trail off and scatter all over the place when I get to the actual smut, and I have a hard time reeling it back in. As a result my smutty fics often get needlessly long xD and they also get a little kinky bc my brain tries to come up with ways to stay engaged in its own writing xD I like testing the limits of how poetic I can be about smut scenes.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Almost never. I rarely enjoy reading them unless they are very well done, so I don't generally think of writing them. The only consistent exception to this rule is all the weilan derivative fics! I love those very much, even if I don't always know the characters. So i've written one of those myself: no shame in having loved, a crossover between the Rebel and Detective L, which takes Luo Fei's perspective at snapshots in the Rebel canon, reflecting on everything that Lin Nansheng learns, loses, and cannot seem to stop giving away. It's a sad one, but with a slightly hopeful ending :)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of? I don't think I'm big enough in any fandom for anyone to consider stealing my work.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but I have had one podficced :D

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not. On the one hand I think I'd love to try one day, but I'm also very particular about certain things and I fear I might get antsy. I love brainstorming about fic though! Some of my best ideas have come from talking to people.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Uhm Weilan I think? I'm not really in fandom for the shipping.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

ohh hard one. I have three, if I may:

And miles to go (before I sleep): it's a story that's still very dear to me, but it's been so long since I started it that I think I'd need to rewrite the whole thing, bc I've gotten better at writing in the meantime and the style of any new chapter wouldn't match the first ones.

First gradually, and then all at once: I wrote all of this in a single week, and then uni got in the way, and then my hyperfixation on YYM ended and since then the fic's been stuck in unfortunate limbo :(((( I really want to finish it but I need the muse to guide me

Tryptich: not yet posted, but fully planned. It's one of the toughest, angstiest, most cathartic fic plots I have ever come up with, and I really want to write it because it is such a meaningful story about mental health and loss and recovery, but it's also YYM fandom, and as established above I need to regain that hyperfixation for this to move anywhere :(((( or just have a lot of free time on my hands where I can write both the guardian fic stuck in my brain and this.

16. What are your writing strengths?

uuhm, I think atmosphere/scene setting, structure, and character study/reflection.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

dialogue tags (bane of my existence). I also think my work can sometimes drag on, I use too many words sometimes. Also I feel like I can be kind of a one trick pony xD I repeat a lot of similar lines and dramatic build-up between stories.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Can be great when other ppl do it. If it's a language I can read a little bit that's nice , otherwise including a translation at the bottom helps. I'd definitely never write dialogue in a language I'm not fluent in. That being said, I do pay a lot of attention to what language my characters are 'actually' speaking, even if I present their dialogue to my readers in English. For example if would write a phrase like "he pauses to breathe between all three syllables" (which sucks as a line, but bear with me), in an English-language fic where the characters would canonically be speaking Mandarin Chinese, then I would make sure the line that character said would actually contain 3 syllables in both English and Chinese. I do a lot of that kind of reasoning in my head. "If this line, reflecting on dialogue spoken in Y language, was transposed directly into language X that the characters are really supposed to be speaking, would the line still work like this?" if the answer there is no, then I will either change the line, or change the English dialogue until I have something that reflects what I imagine the characters would say in their native language in the way I need!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Tolkien!

20. Favorite fic you've written?

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE??? it's probably either a hand within a hand (holding light) or kaleidoscope.

Thanks again, this was fun!!!

tagging: @pangzi @programmedradly @lunarriviera @lucientelrunya @mjsakurea @lynne-monstr @dual-domination @aredhel-of-doylkien @thedaughterofshadows if you want to :)

[disgruntledkittenface]

Thank you @hellolovers13​ and @neondiamond​ for tagging me! I loved reading your answers to these questions.

1. Number of stories posted to AO3 this year: 11

with love on the line

i get so lost inside your eyes

still, somehow

like sun on the rise

subverting expectations

Darling, so it goes

baby, you’re the end of june

The Referral

something to dream about

enough to make a girl blush

make you mine this season

2. Word count posted for the year: 288,979

3. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction

4. Pairings: Nick/Harry/Louis, Niall/Zayn, Liam/Louis, Nick/Harry, Harry/Louis, Louis/Harry/Tom Hardy, Niall/Louis, Zayn/Harry, Nick/Louis

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: baby, you’re the end of june

Bookmarks: Darling, so it goes

Comments: make you mind this season

the rest under the cut!

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): Darling, so it goes. I’m proud of myself for finishing it, because it took about three years to research and write and I had about three bouts of horrible writer’s block on it during that time. And I’m proud that it’s exactly what I wanted to write and that I posted it even though I wasn’t sure if people would respond to it. It has the heart and warmth that I try to infuse my writing with. It’s me, on a page. 

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): something to dream about. I still feel like reworking it, even though it posted in October. I don’t think it’s bad, but I think it could be better.

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: I would say this year it was the experience of posting make you mine this season and getting comments and reactions every day. I’ve never had people engaging with a fic that way because I’ve never posted a wip before. I gave myself some anxiety a few times (Will people be mad I didn’t write the scene with Louis’ family?? Is this zarry ending the kind of happy people want???) but everyone was so kind and lovely and it really made my heart grow three sizes.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: It’s kind of hard right now. I don’t feel very motivated or excited about writing, even though I really like my current wip. I think it’s because I’m having a hard time at work, it’s kind of killing my motivation to do anything, I just want to curl up on the couch and self soothe all day.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: In enough to make a girl blush, I thought it would be more of a slow burn before I got to the smut, but truly the first time the Louis and Niall characters hung out, they wanted to hook up right away, so that’s what they did!

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: from like sun on the rise

“I don’t know if like is a strong enough word,” she confesses, continuing to open boxes so she doesn’t have to look at Louis while she spills her guts. “Like… if that was anyone else trying to talk to me about casting a circle, whatever that means, I would think they were full of shit. But with Harry, it’s like I can tell she really means it, you know? And I start to think, oh, maybe it’s not so bad, I guess I get how that might be comforting to believe in.”

“Whoa.” Louis stops unpacking the box and just looks at Nick.

“I know! It’s like, who am I?” Nick stops working too and sits on one of the unopened boxes. “With every other girl I’ve had a crush on, I’ve always kind of mentally edited out the stuff I didn’t like about them. You know? Like remember Ariana?”

“Yeah, she was hot.”

“So hot, and funny and cool and smart and–”

“Pretentious.”

“So fucking pretentious,” Nick agrees, running a hand through her hair. “So I kind of just ignored that part. That way, I could still have a crush on her.”

Louis shrugs, laughing. “Been there.”

“But Harry.” Nick blows out a breath. “Harry is different. All of her weird stuff, like auras and spells and whatever – that’s exactly the type of thing that I would usually just ignore. I do this all the time, I get a crush for a few weeks, I ignore some stuff, maybe we go out a couple of times, and then it ends because they were all wrong for me. But with Harry, everything I learn about her just makes me like her more. It’s… intense. And I know I haven't known her that long, but I’m starting to think that maybe this isn’t just a crush.”

“So why do you look sick to your stomach? Isn’t this a good thing?”

“But what if she doesn’t like me back?”

“Nick.” Louis levels her with a look. “Are you serious?”

“Is that a rhetorical question, or–”

“Of course she fucking likes you back,” Louis says, turning back to the opened box next to her and unearthing a bag of filters. “She’s been coming here to study every time you have a shift. You text constantly when you’re not together. You speak in shorthand, you two don’t even need to finish sentences around each other.”

“So you think–”

“I know she likes you. And listen, Nick,” Louis says, looking over her shoulder, “don’t fucking hurt her, okay? Or you’ll have me to deal with.”

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: By trying different things! I love challenging myself that way. I wanted to see if I could good alpha/omega girl direction smut (and I think I did!). And I wrote my first advent fic! After I came up with the basic idea, I had to think about how to pace two stories and interconnect them and keep each chapter short enough so people could read along if they wanted to, and I’m really happy with how it turned out.

13. How do you hope to grow next year: By continuing to try new things!

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): I have SO MANY positive influences, truly my little community is an embarrassment of riches. I’m going to say @queenofquiet17​ who doesn’t even go here but always cheerleads my fics and helps me when I need it. She gave me a lot of suggestions for queer literature to include in make you mine this season, and then for my birthday she went to the bookstore from the fic and bought three of the books for me! When I opened the package, I cried. She always makes me feel like I’m part of the queer community and like I’m enough, and that means so much to me. 

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: I wrote still, somehow after my husband trimmed my split ends for me. I was in the middle of a depressive episode and I didn’t realize until I was writing in Liam’s voice that I felt guilty about it, even though it’s not something my husband would ever resent me for.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Take each piece of writing advice with a grain of salt. Something that works for one person might not work for another. If you want to use adverbs, use adverbs. Write for yourself. 

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I definitely feel more excited about the american tragedy au idea after posting about it, so I might actually attempt it this year even though it’s a darker idea and my fics always end up being nicer than I think they will.

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

@uhoh-but-yeah-alright​ @homosociallyyours​ @louandhazaf​ @kingsofeverything​ @wabadabadaba​ @littleroverlouis​ @onesweetworld18​ @brightgolden​ @absoloutenonsense​ @allwaswell16​

[worldismyne]

Seeing how you actually are able to keep your promise of weekly chapters, any tipps to commiting to a schedulde? I often think with all my free time I should be able to do the same with my storys but I just get burnt out or distracted and then self loath cause when I actually have the will again I have work responsibilities or other important stuff going on

Don't commit to an upload schedule until the first draft is finished.

Write to entertain yourself, not to meet a deadline.

Write as much as you can while the idea is new and exciting.

When soft writing and/or brain storming, I like to make a playlist specific to that story. The scenes I have that are tied to specific songs are the easiest to write.

Find the 1 hr on your days off that you have the most energy. (For me it's right after breakfast). Try as often as you can to write then. Even once every other week, is amazing.

It's okay to leave fics unfinished.

Your freetime where you rest is important

Listen to audiobooks in the same genre that you're aiming to write.

Whenever stuck, don't google, put < get there > and keep writing. When editing go back and either add to the scene or just cut it. 9/10 if I think a scene needs something to start it off, it actually doesn't.

(Longer explination of my process under the cut).

DON'T COMMIT TO AN UPLOAD SCHEDULE UNTIL IT'S ALREADY DONE.

I write as much as I can while hyperfixating on a story without posting it. So the draft for the fic I'm uploading atm was finished three months ago. I started uploading when I had 16 chapters written (or 4 months of backlog).

I can't count on how long an idea will hold my interest, or if I have enough material to stretch it out over multiple chapters. (I only just recently got into one shots. If you look at my other fics, I average around 20 k for a 'long' fic, because I get bored). So don't hold yourself to a strict length. Write the important, most engadging parts, walk away, come back and make sure it flows.

The important thing is I'm writing to entertain myself. Writing for a self imposed deadline or to meet audience expectations always burns me out. (No amount of kudos or comments will ever combat that)

I work 3, 12 hr night shifts a week, so a lot of the writing I do is during downtime at work. I personally find it difficult to write at home and spend a great deal of time recovering from working. The body needs that time to recover and it took years of unlearning that rest and self care are unproductive or a waste of time. If your work doesn't allow you that luxury, have a place out of the house you go to for longer periods of writing.

The playlist thing is a lifesaver, never discount the importance of soft writing. I literally can not visualize things, so music helps me have an outline to plot out scenes or chapters (i.e. what tone am I trying to capture). Also works to reignte the spark of inspiration. The time I'm most active is the morning, but that time often gets eaten up by real life, however it's easy to budget a half hour of time to that peak writing time. Those lil bits add up. If you haven't made progress on something in a while, it isn't a bad thing that you've prioritized other things. The writing process should be fun. It's like playing pretend, but you get to keep it afterward.

It's okay to abandon fics.

I still reread unfinished fics people posted, because what they had up was full of passion. A lot of the fics I couldn't finish were either the scope of the story was too big for what I wanted to write or the direction I was taking the fic wasn't working. Crest of the Dragon was on a 6 year hiatus before I was able to come up with an ending I liked. I was surprised people who'd followed it and left tumblr came back just to congradulate me for finishing it. Your readers will understand if you have to step away from something for a while. Updating serially often puts fic writers in a corner, by having the WIP up for everyone to see.

Burnout is usually not from the writing, but the real life shit going on around us. It can take years to figure out the main source and how to deal with it. Mental and emotional rest are important. I'm a bit neuro spicy, so there are straight up weeks where I have to resign myself to not creating anything. Having the back log helps in those instances, since l typically make things in fevered burst and then have to recoop.

Recently figured out listening to disc world novels has helped with my SE fic. It has good examples of absurdest humor, world building and general descriptions. I don't have time to read, but a lot of audio books are free on youtube. If you really, really get stuck, seeing how a pro tackles things can help even subconciously.

<get there> is my new friend. I'm not big on writing non-linearly. For longer stories, I'll parse out the main story beats and then hope the characters develope in that direction. Sometimes they go off the rails on me, or a planned subplot gets scraped. So, for this fic, I had all the mystery reveals spaced out between the two storylines. For character arcs, I go on explorative vibes.

All this to say, writing for me is an escape, and most of the time I'm doing it when I'm in a position where my options are either be on my phone or write. If I got 15 min or more, I choose write. If I got a sentence out, that counts.

It doesn't have to be perfect, or finished, or written in a timely matter. It just has to be, as long as what you're writing entertains you. Worry about uploading once you're done with it.