#Reposting brighter versions

[mezmer]

[dollishmehrayan]

# “LIFE IS WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU WHEN YOUR BUSY MAKING OTHER PLANS.” ── .✦ ( just a Drabble of how Jason babysits lian Harper because dc isn’t answering my dms to release smth like this )

a/n: this is lowkey inspired from my TikTok fyp && I thought why not make this after being gone (like Roy ) but I’m here and that matters for now ig but here is some uncle jay content before I get chased off this app once again /hj but I lovee these tropes and we need MORE. Also I based that lian Harper in this is about 7 yrs old so sorry if I fucked up the timeline 😓 Tags: (uncle!jay x lian Harper)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

UNLIKELY BABYSITTER ── .✦

(Okay so Idk whether to base this off when Roy died or wtv so i think I’m gonna say wherever) When Roy had to go to whenever the fuck he went, Jason didn't expect to be left with Lian. But, given the circumstances, he found himself the reluctant babysitter.

It was awkward at first, both of them not knowing what to do with each other. Lian, full of energy, bounced around with her little, eager questions, and Jason, usually gruff and unbothered, had no idea how to talk to a seven-year-old. But, after a few days, it became a routine. He'd take her out on low-key patrols

keep her entertained with action figures, or get distracted with her never-ending curiosity about why the Batmobile was always clean or how many bad guys Batman had taken down. She’d ask him if he ever got hurt during patrols, and he’d be quick to shrug it off with a gruff "I'm bulletproof." Which, in a way, was true, but he'd leave out the parts where he still felt pain.

JASON LYING ABOUT ROY’S WHEREABOUTS ── .✦

Every now and then, Lian would ask where her dad was. Jason had learned quickly that he couldn’t tell her the truth because no way in hell he would say that Roy was either in rehab or MIA. So, he became a master of gentle lies. "Your dad's off being a hero," he'd say with a wink, trying to avoid any further probing.

He’d even make up silly, grandiose adventures: “I think he’s saving the world, but he’ll come back when he’s done being the most awesome archer on the planet.” Lian would nod in serious understanding, never questioning her Uncle Jason. To her, Roy was always out there being her hero, just like her dad told her. Jason kept that illusion intact, because no seven-year-old should have to worry about things they couldn’t fully understand.

GENTLE PARTS ── .✦

When Jason had to settle into being around Lian, he realized that her energy could cut through his walls. He started catching himself with small gestures brushing her hair out of her face when it got messy or tucking her into bed on those nights when she insisted she was scared of the dark. Jason, who usually kept to himself, found that he liked having her around.

He'd start to soften in her presence, especially when she asked questions about his life as Robin because Roy couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and he couldn’t help but soften his voice when he told her stories some he exaggerated for fun and others that were true but came with some parts that were fake and censored.

SEEING HIMSELF IN HER ── .✦

Even at just seven years old, Lian’s fiery spirit reminded him of the younger version of himself a little too reckless, a little too stubborn but he was glad that she seemed to be brighter with energy and didn’t have to go through the same hardships. Jason, having gone through too much for one lifetime, couldn’t help but feel a deep need to protect her.

Whether it was keeping a watchful eye when she ran around with a slingshot or taking her to Alfred for medical patches when she scraped her knee during a failed attempt at imitating her father’s archery skills, Jason would never let anything bad happen to her if he could help it. Every time she looked up at him with those big, trusting eyes, he felt the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders, but in a strangely fulfilling way.

FUN AND MISCHIEF ── .✦

Jason may have been rough around the edges, but he knew how to entertain a child. After dinner, he’d take her out to the Batcave to show her gadgets, even let her play with some of the “toys,” making sure she didn’t break anything important. She loved exploring the safe house jason owned and asking him endless questions about his bikes and guns even though he definitely hid the more violent ones away.

Sometimes, when Roy was unreachable, he’d make up stories about their ‘missions’ together how they had to fight a gang of supervillains or how they went on a secret mission to find the Batcave’s best snack stash even though it hurt him inside to even think about Roy.

Lian would giggle, rolling her eyes at Jason’s outlandish claims, but they both enjoyed it. He’d always promise to let her in on the next "real mission" and tease her about how she’d be the world’s greatest archer one day. She'd always beam back at him, so proud.

JASONS TENDER SIDE ── .✦

In the quiet moments, when Lian would curl up on the couch with a blanket, Jason would find himself sitting beside her, still, looking out for her. He'd never admit it, but he loved how peaceful those moments were, just the two of them. If she asked about her dad again, Jason’s words were always gentle, his hand rubbing her back in soothing circles. “Your dad’s tough, you know? He’s probably out there saving people right now, but when he comes home, he’s gonna spoil you so much, you won’t even know what hit you.”

Jason kept his words soft, not wanting her to feel too much hurt. Deep down, he hated lying to her, but in a twisted way, it was easier to protect her with lies than with the hard truth.

THE LITTLE THINGS ── .✦

Every so often, Jason would find himself unwinding with Lian watching a cartoon together, or if she was feeling more adventurous, they’d go out for ice cream after a long day. Jason would insist she pick out the weirdest flavor, and Lian would always go for something outrageous like mint chocolate chip with sprinkles or rainbow sherbet.

She’d make him try it too (she once made him try a bubblegum mix and he swore he had a stomach ache for dayss😭) and though he’d grimace, he’d always end up smiling at her enthusiasm. The day would end with her telling him everything she learned that day, and Jason, despite his own pain, would laugh, feeling like maybe he was doing something right for once.

THE UNSPOKEN BOND ── .✦

They didn’t say it out loud, but Jason took pride in being there for Lian. He couldn’t replace Roy, and he didn’t want to, but he’d be damned if anything happened to Lian while he was around. Sometimes, as Lian drifted to sleep, Jason would glance over at her, making sure she was okay.

And in those moments, he’d make silent promises to protect her, to keep lying about her father’s whereabouts until he could safely come home, and to be the kind of person who would never let her down even if the world seemed to keep knocking him down because even when his world was crumbling, he would make sure hers was always peaceful and perfect.

[staridust]

Sunny Day Jack ★ Stari’s Versions

—

★ DO NOT USE/REPOST WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. NO MINORS.

—

Apologies for the tumblr inactivity, space crew! I’m much more active over on Twitter!

Here’s a simple lineup of Jack designs that I’ll be personally using for myself! I love when artists take a character and add their own personal twists on them, so I’ve done the same to my favorite technicolor clown.

I’ve also seen a few people be interested in two other designs that I’ve done, so I’ve added them to the lineup as well for others to use or to see their full outfits!

—

Here’s a explanation of each design element if you all are interested in that:

Sunnyverse Jack(Left):

Sunnyverse!Jack is my personal interpretation, artistic recolor, and story with him. He is basically a spin-off of the Sunny Time Town AU by JambeeBot.

I wanted his jacket to reflect looking up at a vibrant summer sky, with clouds, rainbow pockets, swirls, and stickers to add to the childlike wonder. His different color suspenders replaces the stripes on his shirt, which is now a sun on the collar!

I’ve personally always liked the idea of Jack’s hair cascading into purple tips, it’s been referenced in many other drawings of mine. Considering Papa Rise also has purple-ish hair, I think it fits!

This design went through a couple sketch phases and some reworks with the most recent showcase being the birthday drawing of Artemis, where this design can be seen in now outdated-concept!

Alternate Outfit (Middle):

Over a year ago, I made a drawing about Jack and bowties, spreading my bowtie propaganda…. And I still am HAHA. Listen, Jack with a bowtie is so cute, So I’m bringing that design back as well as a full ref!

I’d like to say that this is his work or side outfit, but this is not the teacher AU. I did not create that AU, so don’t refer to this design as the teacher AU!

Even though I don’t consider Jack as a rodeo clown, I gave him clown cowboy boots to reference [Redacted] and his southern residence somewhere.

Rainbow Factory Jack(Right):

RainbowFactory!Jack or RF!Jack is an AU I made last year as well, and finally got around to giving you all a full standing ref for him!

He got more attention than I thought, I know a couple of you like delusional men. I get it.

For his hair, aside from the primary highlights, I also changed the coloring to be a bit more muddled and darker on the teal spectrum, as I like to do that when I draw Jack in a not so-friendly manner. His hair is also more spiked, compared to the others who have more of a fluffy round curl.

His coat is very simple, red and yellow stripes down to a cloud border, and the inside of the coat shows a giant sun on the underside. He also has different color rainbow splotches in different places on him!

His eyes can vary in size or be consistent, and the colors of them can change or spiral too! Usually though, the right eye is lighter than the other. His colors are more saturated and darker than the other designs.

Cotton Candy Cupid Jack:

Finally, the last design I have in the lineup is Cupid!Jack!

This is the first custom design I’ve made of Jack. Shared in this post, this was meant to be the Valentine’s Day design I had for him! Though this drawings is extremely old and outdated now for both my MC and art, I decided to carry it on to a proper Cupid AU design for everyone!

He was originally labeled as Cotton Candy Jack in a wip post that keeps getting shared around from time to time, but I’m unsure if I should keep that name for this lover boy now! There was a community cotton candy Jack trend a month or two ago, so maybe I should change the name? What do you all think?

Design wise he parallels the classic Incubus Jack, which I believe was originally a Halloween costume. His design shares similarities on purpose, being the extended body paint gradient and the sheer fabric overlay on the pants.

Almost like an angel/devil duo, Cupid Jack is more pastel, softer/brighter primary hues, has fluffy wings! My goal was to have them be similar enough side by side, but also different enough to tell that they are different themes/holidays.

He has a motif of hearts, ribbons, and sun swirls. His hair gradient is also the most vibrant one, going from cyan to a vibrant pink at the tips.

He has sandals because I thought it fit the whole Cupid vibe, but drawing his dogs out every-time might actually be the end of me.

—

While I will use these personal redesigns, I want to make it clearly stated and obvious that Jack is not my original character, nor are these redesigns an attempt to change his character or completely detach him from his media. There are simply my fun artistic portrayals of him, as I admire his original design, media, and game as well.

The Rainbow Factory and Cupid AUs are technically my AUs. Ship art, written stories, headcanons, etc. of RF or Cupid Jack are completely okay to create! I just ask that you tag me so that I can see what you all do with him!

However, I ask that if Sunnyverse Jack is used, please ask for permission before using his custom design, as it is my own design of him that I use personally.

…and also, I wanna see more MV Jacks! Artists! Show me how you would draw him in your trademark! I love creative expression!

[reivrze]

𝒥 : enhypen's habits

PAIRING ! enhypen x gn!reader

GENRE ! big time fluff !!

A/N ! thought this idea would be cute :)

heeseung | 이희승

heeseung loves to rest his hand on your thighs when you’re sitting next to one another, he likes to rub his thumb on your leg, simply as a comforting move, not necessarily suggestive. it’s makes him feel protective of you, and if you’re in public, it’s his way to show that he’s dating you. he might even have fun with drawing little doodles (with his fingers) on your legs or tap his fingers to the beat of a song that’s been stuck on his mind recently.

rest of the members under the cut !

jongseong | 박종성

jay feels naturally protective over his partner, he’s the type to link your fingers whenever you guys are in public or around a lot of people. it’s his way to make sure you won’t get lost and he can keep an eye on you. his hands would be so soft, big in comparison to yours, comforting to hold basically.

jaeyun | 심재윤

jake is a human version of a golden retriever as we all know. jake has a habit to lay his head on you, whenever you’re around him. he’ll lay his head on your shoulder, your head, your lap, whatever is available. he finds you warm and soft, and it’s comforting for him to just relax on you. bonus point if you brush his hair with your hands when he’s laying his head on your lap, he could fall asleep.

sunghoon | 박성훈

sunghoon has a habit to use baby talk around you, doesn’t matter, if you’re older, younger, shorter or taller, you’re his baby. sunghoon likes to take care of his s/o and treats them preciously baby talk let’s him take care of you while still keeping his teasing habits. he likes to see you pout whenever he treats you like a baby.

a/n : he does this with the maknae line so i’m 99.99% sure he’d do it with his partner as well

sunoo | 김선우

sunoo has a habit of hugging you tightly whenever he gets excited, he’ll get super happy all of a sudden and just embrace you so firmly in attempt to share his happiness with you. it’s his way to express his joy and a small excuse to touch you in the fluffiest way ever. he might even add a small kiss before letting go, wether it be on your nose, your forehead or your lips. all of this while wearing the biggest smile of his face, brighter than the sun.

jungwon | 양정원

jungwon likes to play with your fingers, it’s an unconscious thing he does whenever you guys are together. he’ll be holding your hands and then subconsciously start playing with your fingers, not sure why he does it but it’s a little habit he’s grown since dating you. maybe it’s to deal with stress, whatever the reason, he finds it calming.

niki | 西村 力

this boy loooooovesss teasing you, he likes to annoy you so much, it’s his daily routine. especially if you’re shorter or younger than him, good luck. if ever you can’t reach something from the top shelf, he’ll pretend to get it only to hold it even higher, while you helplessly try to get the object. And if you’re younger, he’ll use the fact that he’s older, even if it’s only a month difference, as an excuse to tease you to the max, if you tell him to stop.. “shut up, i’m older than you, you can’t tell me what to do”.

m.list !

© miyu 2023 - do not copy, translate, repost or plagiarise my work anywhere !

[we-stan-the-stans-27]

Dead Asleep AU?

Okay, so I kind of wanted to write another part/version of that sleeping beauty AU from the other week. But this time, Stanley is the one who gets too suffer! HAHAH!

So, here is part two. Also, I posted both parts up on my Ao3 account and I'll link it here if you want to save it for later or whatever.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62066953/chapters/158737552#main

And of course, I'm going to @sixerstanley again! Because this was their idea. Now. Let's get into being evil. Heheh.

(I had most of this done on the tenth, but then I basically died and couldn't finish. So, enjoy. That live stream was like crack or something. Idk guys.) (P.P.S. Gonna post this on its own now because I don't think anyone saw it when I reposted it attached to the old post. Rightfully so. That shit was long as hell.)

Truth be told all of Stan Pines favorite and happiest memories took place on a boat. It didn't matter if it was on some crappy litter scattered beach.

It was theirs and nothing could soil those memories. Back then all that mattered was the hot burning sand, maybe the stings of glass cuts across a sole, and tumbling along getting hurt, hand in hand.

Sure, it took forty damn years to get back there, but he's anything if not stubborn. And it paid off.

What's that saying? 'Most gamblers call it quits right before striking it big?'

Good thing he never stopped betting with higher and higher stakes then, right?

The future is much brighter because of it. The deck of the ship has a sharp bite to it now. From one extreme to the next. A hot infected wound, now soothed by a cold compress.

The arctic Ocean.

There isn't a lot in the area for fishing, but there is still plenty of wildlife to watch from the top deck if your patient.

Late at night the sky lights up with the northern lights, or 'Aurora Borealis' if you speak blabbering scientist. It's beautiful and a new flavor of Ford's favorite activity, Stargazing.

Out at sea there is no better place for it without any light pollution. Just them, the universe, and the expansive inky blackness below.

Sitting out on the deck, fish watching with a pair of binoculars, the world is practically blinding this time of the afternoon. The white overcast clouds mixed with the occasional chunk of ice covered in snow lights up the world like being inside a light bulb.

That's not what pulls Stanley's attention from the endless water he's been looking at all morning though. Finally, he sees something!

Off the starboard side from where they've been anchored a group of Narwhals is swimming by, long tusks poking out of the water and interrupting the sleek outline of the waves.

"Sixer, get the hell up here!" He knows his brother won't be nearly as excited about seeing this marvel as he is, but Stan still wants to share it with him anyway.

Just because Ford saw a million different impossible things through the portal doesn't mean whales aren't interesting too. Sure, not what they're hanging out waiting for, but who cares?

When Stanley can't hear Ford immediately running up the stairs, no big surprise if stuck in a book, he stomps on the floor of the deck without looking away from the water. Grinning like an idiot.

"Stanford Pines, get up here! I'm having a heart attack!" Okay, yeah. It's not funny. But that never fails to get him top side no matter what he's in the middle of.

'Boy who cried wolf' Yack! Yack! Whatever. If it works, why fix it?

There are at least ten different Narwhals intermittently breaching for air but the sight is incredibly short lived before they dive again on another breath hold, disappearing from sight below the grey waves.

"Awe, too slow! You missed it!" His booming voice is the only sound on the ship and it makes Stan finally drop the glasses and get up out of his chair with a crack from both knees.

He stomps, again, and then listens with a little more attention to the ship.

There is the lapping of the waves against the side, the slight breeze blowing the fresh smell of sea salt over the vessel, but otherwise its quiet.

Hmm. He could stay up here, maybe even pretend to fall over and really scare his brother. Except the last time he did that Ford almost threw him overboard into the freezing cold water.

Still. It is a little weird that Ford didn't at least yell a few foreign curse words up through the ship.

"Alright, fine. You want to prank me back? I'll bite." It comes out in a mutter and Stan makes his way across the deck after one more glance around at the water.

Through the wheel house, down the steep steps, and around the corner into the room dubbed 'the office' only in the name on the door. It's a glorified science lab that Stan gets to store a shelf of books inside of.

Pushing open the door is a little challenging, like something is blocking it but after a minute of shoving he's able to get enough room to squeeze through to get a look around.

Yep. This is 100% a prank.

The thing blocking the door? Ford, leaning back and looking pretty limp. Stan has got to hand it to him, this is a really convincing look.

"Nice try genius, laying around on the floor isn't going to convince me. Come on, up we go." It takes a lot more work than it should to move Ford from the floor up into the single chair in here.

The only real dead bodies Stan has ever seen have been bloody from being murdered or covered in vomit thanks to overdosing on something. Lots of blood, bruises, stomach acid and empty eyes stained with their last moments.

Ford's open, blank ones, do cause a little bit of alarm, but. It's how damn cold his body is that brings the first real taste of concern to the forefront of his mind.

"I thought I told you to turn on the space heater periodically. You have bad enough circulation as is, you idiot." Ford is very cold, and limp just like a dead body, and his eyes-

To humor Ford, and to reassure himself, Stan does a big show of rolling his eyes and then putting two fingers to Ford's wrist. You can't hide having a pulse, genius.

"................................................................................................................"

Okay. Maybe you can hide a pulse on one arm, if you cut off circulation. Whatever, big whoop?

Stan shifts over to check the other wrist and lets out a tisk of annoyance before raising those same fingers up to Ford's neck.

Same result.

Huh.

Now that's a neat trick.

Ford is doing a really good job pretending not to breathe too.

A really really good job.

That's bad.

"Alright Sixer, good one. I've learned my lesson here, you can undo whatever witchcraft you used to manage this." His confidence that this is a joke is cracking with every second Ford doesn't hop up and start lecturing him.

That's what should be happening. Another long rant about how pretending to be injured or sick isn't funny, not a good way to get attention, and unnecessary.

Yeah. Stan knows all that.

Ford does come topside, eventually, whenever he yells. It's just-

Sometimes Ford gets a little too caught up in his work and needs to be reminded the rest of the world exists. Extremes are the easiest way to do that.

And, yeah. Stanley can admit in the safety of his own head that he enjoys the fretting Ford does, despite knowing it’s a false alarm. It's been a long time since someone cared about him enough for something like that.

Or maybe those memories are what decided not to come back. Eh, his life seems pretty sad. Makes sense.

What doesn't, however, is why Ford is doing this for so long.

Plain and simple, he wouldn't.

But, that would mean something so terrible that his mind still won't accept it.

Because Ford can't be dead. That's not possible. They had this conversation.

Before leaving Gravity Falls, they had a really long and difficult talk about health issues. Ford came up with game plans for emergencies, Stanley had to own up to his numerous health issues, and how does Stanley know with complete certainty his brother can't be dead?

Bill said so.

Ford isn't supposed to die until he's ninety-two of a heart attack.

Now, Stan doesn't trust that demon on much. Or anything. Except this.

Because Bill liked Ford to an uncomfortable degree, otherwise he'd be dead right now. Or, would have at some point during the apocalypse.

So. The devil must have been telling the truth on this one thing, right?

Ford had seemed pretty sure that he wasn't going to be the one needing healthcare at sea, solidifying the belief in Stan's own mind. If Ford wasn't worried, why should he? He's a genius!

But-

What if Bill did lie? Tricking them into a false sense of security only for Ford to drop dead one day. Honestly? That does sound more his style.

Except, it can't be today.

It just can't.

Because if Ford is dead-

That's not a possibility Stanley Pines has ever considered for so much as a millisecond.

Not when Ford went through the portal.

Not for thirty years during the rebuilding process.

Not even prior to rescuing him from Bill and saving the world.

Because he can't imagine a world without Stanford Pines.

Sure, he's been gone before. Missing, but he came back from the portal and they eventually fixed things. They're okay now.

That was six weeks ago.

And, yeah, they still fight, but that's normal. Expected, living so closely after so long apart.

Stan has found himself frozen standing next to the chair simply staring down at Ford waiting for-

The joke to end? The camera crew to jump out? Ford himself to come in from the other room telling him this is a dummy or clone?

That spurs him back into action, rushing out of the room. "You aren't funny, Stanford Filbrick Pines! When I find you, I'm going to give you the worst wedgie in the multiverse!"

There are really only four places Ford could be hiding, given his size. Their bedroom underneath the bunk beds, the bathroom, the tiny kitchen pantry, or the engine room.

The kitchen pantry is bare, as expected. It’s a pretty shitty hiding spot.

Looking underneath the bed is tricky, but he isn't under there either.

The bathroom shower is clear too and he leaves the lights on, doors open, as he yanks the tiny half-sized door to peer into the almost crawlspace-sized room-

Empty.

For good measure Stanley does a second, and third, lap of the ship from the deck all the way back through leaving no chance for his brother to be sneaking around hiding.

In the end he still lands back in the office, leaning against the wall, looking at his brother's freezing cold and lifeless body.

Dead, body-

Nope, nope, nope! Ford can't be dead, he can't be.

Instead of looking at 'Ford' Stan looks around the room at anything else in search of answers. There's a stack of books and some science doohickey on the desk, but that's not all.

When first entering the room, Ford was laying on the floor back against the door. The chair was sideways, almost like he'd fallen out of it.

Down on the floor is a small collection of scattered papers.

It certainly looks like-

"Nope. Not happening." I'm not going to entertain it, not going to think about it. Ford is cold and being an idiot.

Stan busies himself with gathering up the scattered papers off the floor and organizing them on the desk and-

Ford's phone.

Before leaving port they'd both gone out and bought one at the behest of Dipper and Mabel. For taking pictures, calling, texting, and use of the internet.

They have this thing called a 'hot spot' that allows them to use the internet on their laptop for video calls and such. Ford usually sets that up and Stan gets the call going.

Neither of them knows the full process, so they have to work together.

Finding it discarded on the floor fits with the scene Ford has laid out trying to play dead. It's all very convincing, really.

But all that panic and worry remains buried deep, because what else is there?

Losing Ford would probably give him a heart attack, for real, right about now.

So. It's pretty concerning to see the phone open, wasting the battery, to their text chain.

It looks like Ford tried sending him a text up above deck.

'Stanley, I require medical assistance, follow protocol 32-C. Thank you. -Stanford Pines'

Except the text never went through, that red bubble with the exclamation mark 'Not delivered' is obvious enough for even Stanley to see.

Okay. There isn't any ignoring that.

Why? Ford was right here, why didn't he yell or come upstairs, or knock on the ceiling for fucks sake?

Except it does look like Ford might have tried to leave the room-

Real, honest panic claws its way up into the center of his chest from where he's kneeling on the floor looking at the text that didn't go through.

Maybe it was never a heart attack, could've been a stroke-

This text is pretty long and lacking spelling mistakes though, like all the other messages Ford has ever written.

His last words.

"Stanford..." It comes out broken and he ignored the complaints of the floor in the rush to get up, still clutching the phone, and across the room to his brother.

Idiot! Stupid, God damn idiot!

Instead of helping him for one fucking second you decided to play hide and seek!

Nope, we aren't going to cry. Not now, nope. Doesn't matter that there isn't anyone around to-

Nope!

Pulling Ford down onto the floor to assess him is easy with how limp he is and Stan makes quick work of pulling off his gloves in search of-

Something.

There still isn't a pulse, but the skin along each wrist and the neck feels colder than it did earlier. Stan's hands are shaking like he's going through withdrawals, trembling.

Focus.

Despite what his brother might think, he did in fact take the time to review the procedures stored in their extensive first aid kits. Not because any of them are helpful here though.

Ford put that together with Stan exclusively in mind.

What to do in the case of a heart attack, stroke, aneurysms, seizures, and all the small things too. Stuff for stitches, concussions, burns, and there is one small pamphlet on amputations.

The reason he took the time to review them was to put together his own plans, just in case.

If this is a heart attack he can't use to stupid paddles on Ford because of his metal plate. Besides, who knows what kind of effects that might have if it is a stroke-

He's already dead-

"Shut up! Just, shut up. He isn't, not until I say so!" The yell echoes back inside the claustrophobic room. The boat has never felt so painfully small-

CPR it is then.

Thirty-two C is essentially an undefined chest pain. Aspirin, monitoring, and high tailing it to the closest port.

Hard to do any of that when Ford can't breathe, much less swallow. And, you know, being three hours from the closest dock doesn't help either.

Stan has wasted too much time fussing and being useless as is. He knows how to do this. Where the hands go, the rhythm needed and the right amount of pressure to apply. How often to force Ford to take air.

This gives his hands something useful to do, his mind something to focus on instead of pure white-hot panic.

Because that's what he feels.

There is only one thing he could never protect Ford from, himself.

Sickness, and eventually death fall into that same category because the body does those things without considering what you want. Old age would come for his brother someday, regardless of how anyone feels about it.

Stanley had always assumed- no, made damn sure -that he wouldn't outlive his brother.

Because he can't be the one to carry on. That is a world he wants no part in.

He realizes, a while into doing compressions, that he should have consulted a clock before starting to try and keep track of how long he's been doing this.

Whatever, like it really matters.

Stanley continues anyway, long past when his arms started to burn and past hearing two different ribs crack.

What makes him stop is when he physically can't catch his own air enough to continue.

He is, understandably, a mess.

Snot smeared between both faces, tears across the front of Ford's shirt and cheeks, and Stanley himself can't breathe, chest tight and wracked with sobs.

Even if Ford did have a heartbeat Stanley knows he wouldn't be able to feel it because of how badly his hands are trembling and how fast blood is rushing in his own ears.

Six god damn weeks. Is that really all we got? All that time, all those mistakes? So much wasted all because I couldn't control myself for five fucking seconds!

"I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry Stanford." It comes out choked, barely real words around his chests arguing efforts to sound like a dying animal and take in enough oxygen to avoid meeting his own end.

The pile of regrets is immeasurable, but not so much about the past.

They've done that song and dance, so those aren't the thoughts that tear into him now.

So many things missed that still need to be made up for.

Christmas. New Years. Drunk nights out. Their birthday for fucks sake!

Now they'll never get to share that, ever again. Forever Seventeen.

Just-

Being together again.

Joking together.

Together!

Not apart.

Haven't they had enough of that? Wasn't four cursed decades of loneliness plenty?

Guess time has a funny sense of humor.

Or the world just hates him specifically.

Stanley Pines isn't allowed to be happy, hopefully everyone got the memo!

He can't remember ever crying so hard or for nearly as long ever in his whole life. Countless nights spent breaking down in the basement, slumped over the desk in the upstairs office, or camped out in some slum across the back seat of the car are nothing in comparison.

Lying across Ford's chest feels unnatural. It's too cold, too still-

Wrong.

It's like someone just broke one of the fundamental laws of physics here in their office and Stanley can't handle it.

When he finally manages to pull away a crazed laugh bubbles up and out into the room without permission.

There is nothing funny about this, but it seems to have a mind of its own, running away with his vocal cords.

What the hell else is he supposed to do? His whole world just died. Ford might as well of snuffed out the sun, causing the whole universe to go out with it. All that's left are stars.

Memories.

That's not fair. None of this is, and he knows that life ain't fair. Why would it be now? Of course it wouldn't, but-

"Why?! Why now, huh?! You couldn't of waited ten fucking minutes? At least let me be here with you? I could of done something useful for once! But no, I always have to fail! It's the only thing I'm good at!"

The humor vanishes, the hysterics of it washed away by anger and grief.

He ends up sitting back on his ass with knees drawn up with both arms wrapped around them, just like when they were kids.

What is he supposed to do?

Ford's dead. Stanford is dead. Sixer is dead. My twin brother is dead-

Repeating the same thought doesn't make him feel any better. If anything, it makes the shaking ten times worse. Unsteady hands, trembling shoulders-

He's shivering all over, goosebumps caused by something other than the cold.

"God, i really am a failure. Can't argue with me now, huh? You died, fifteen feet away from me and-" He can't look at Ford like this anymore, so he brings up a hand to cover his face while trying to regulate his own awful breathing.

Who cares? Why does it matter? Why bother calming down if Ford's dead?

As much as he'd like to give up, because it would be incredibly easy to do so, Stan knows he can't. Not now.

Okay. Deep even breathes.

In. One, two, three, four, five.

Out. One, two, three, four five.

It takes several tries to manage getting past two, but it gets a little easier to stop feeling so light headed the more he focuses on it

He can't give up, because like it or not-

Why not?

Because of the kids? Because of Soos? How exactly would they feel to find out both of us were brought into port dead by the coast guard? Two funerals to attend.

Although they would probably do them together-

That's a nice thought.

Nope, we aren't encouraging that!

"Alright, come on. Get it together. You know what to do..." That doesn't make it easier.

Back up. First onto both knees, then both feet.

Unlike moving Ford into the chair, dragging him around, Stanley takes more care lifting Ford up over one shoulder to carry him from the office across the boat into the bedroom.

Laying him out on the bottom bunk, tucked into the blankets, it looks like he's just sleeping.

Despite barely doing anything Stanley is exhausted already. Arms sore, his back is going to be killing him tomorrow from picking up all that dead weight, so he settles on the edge of the mattress. Just for a minute.

There was once a day when the gun would, metaphorically, already be in his hand.

The world hadn't exactly been kind to him. Not growing up. Not on the road. Not even fully in Gravity Falls. Sure, it was home, but the basement was its own form of torture and suffering.

All of that was supposed to stay off the boat.

Land was pain, the ocean was perfect.

Or at least he'd thought so. If death was going to come for them, taking them into the ranks of lives lost at sea, they were supposed to go down together.

It's tempting. More tempting than ever before.

"I'm sorry." He can't turn and look at Ford, but the presence of his body is comforting in a weird way. Just don't think about how-

"I know you keep telling me I don't need to be, and that we're all good, but I really am. I'm the reason we lost so much time, so maybe it’s just that I have to live with that until my heart gives out." These are the kinds of things he'd never say if Ford was really here.

Or in front of anyone, but what's the harm now? Might as well get it out now before heading back.

From there Ford will be carted off to the closest morgue, body probably cremated, leaving Stanley to bring the ash remains home.

"Maybe I was a damn fool to think I could have it all. Should have known it was too good to be true. I can't-" He has to stop to take several deep full breaths before pushing on.

"I can't do this. Thirty years, forty, all alone. Ruined, and now-"

Things were good, fantastic, for fucks sake!

Having someone to cook and clean with. To get annoyed at when they hog the bathroom. Pointless arguments, bickering, but always getting over it.

It was domestic in a way he'd always wanted but never allowed himself. Always afraid anyone who got close would leave.

In a way, Ford did. Not intentionally, but he did walk right back out the door just like everyone else. Who knows, maybe it would have happened sooner or later anyway.

"I-I know I wasn't great to live with. I'm a pain in the ass screw-up and I guess that's all I'll ever be." Failing to notice something was seriously wrong sooner, not hearing any noises his brother might have made, not getting that text-

Overshadows saving the world. It doesn't matter if the sun keeps rising if his brother isn't here to see it.

He doesn't really know what's considered 'normal behavior' around a corpse. It might be incredibly weird of him to decide to sit up against the wall at the head of the bunk and get Ford situated laying back against his chest, repositioning the blankets.

Stan finds he doesn't care either way. If his brother is dead, the love of his life, he's going to sit with him for a little while before his body gets all stiff and gross and corpsey.

It'll take about two hours, give or take, before then.

Other than the bed being cold it’s not hard to pretend things are okay. Stan's own breathing moves Ford with each inhale and exhale in the otherwise quiet room.

They're both to old to be cuddling, but who's around to judge him? The next closest human is miles away and Ford...

He doesn't really get a say anymore.

Stan lets out a sad and exhausted chuckle, shaking his head and tucking his face down into Ford's hair while keeping both arms tight across his brother’s chest.

It smells of sweat, sea salt, and something chemically that makes his nose burn a little. He needs a shower, gross bastard.

"You have no idea how much I'm going to miss you, Sixer. No fucking clue how much I love you."

Never, ever, would Stan dare be so open in front of anyone, much less his equally emotionally constipated brother. But it’s not like he's going to be able to say all this stuff in front of people.

Not when he heads back to Gravity Falls, tail between his legs. Much less at the funeral.

"I mean, you had to know. One person doesn't dedicate a lifetime to fixing a mistake like that if they don't give a shit. But, well, you know."

He's a corpse Stan, he doesn't know anything. Not anymore.

"It was never the boat. I didn't care that you wanted to go to school. I didn't care about taking the journal. I didn't even care about you being a pretentious asshole. Okay, maybe I did care about that last one a little." It's the first genuine laugh Stan's let out since finding Ford.

"It was the separation I had a problem with. We could have been enlisted in the military for all I cared, as long as we did it together. Talk about codependent, am I right?"

His arms are tired from doing compressions so instead of continuing to hug Ford in a vice grip he settles for holding one of his hands instead.

Cuddling, weird but not outside of things they've done before. Usually after or because of nightmares.

Hugging is practically a daily occurrence at this point, sometimes multiple times depending on the itinerary Ford's always got in his stupid head.

But this, holding hands, isn't something they've done since they were kids.

Hopefully, Filbrick found a special space in hell for yelling at them until they stopped. He was right, socially, of course. But Stan can't help holding a grudge regardless. As if Ford needed more negative press about his perfect hands.

They're cold but Stan pointedly ignores that in favor of savoring the moment.

"It was good we spent time apart, in its own stupid way. Not because either of us had a good time or anything, but we finally grew up. Eventually. Just took the world ending for you to get your ego checked." It's nice having Ford lying back against his chest, their hands intertwined over Ford's cold one under the blanket.

It's sad, and temporary, but better than nothing at all.

You take what you get and you don't throw a fit.

"But hey, it wasn't all bad." Looking around the room the proof is right here. "We did it, eventually. We had some fun, stole some treasure. Never did get any babes though, but-"

The wall closest to the door is covered in a large cork board covered in pictures from the camera Soos gifted them as a housewarming present before leaving port. Original pictures of them back in Jersey pinned at the top with their adventures detailed in the ones below, picking up decades later.

He sighs, bringing up his free hand to straighten out Ford's hair. It's always a rat’s nest. "I was never as worried about that part as I probably should have been, because I-"

Dead or not, is this really the kind of thing he should be saying out loud?

The things he's saying aren't really for Ford, they're for Stanley's own benefit anyway. "Well, heh. You see, about that...I, uh. Really only had interest in getting one babe on board." He squeezes Ford's hand for emphasis, like he's listening.

But even Stan can't help bursting out into laughter at his awful joke, managing to avoid letting out more than a couple tears. "Oh god, that's terrible. I'm terrible, I know. But, you never had to worry about that. You being here is more then I could've asked for. No sense betting it on the bonus word and getting left at a dock when things where good as is."

There. It's out there, in the room, shared with someone who can never tell his worst secret. That wasn't so bad now, was it?

"As it was, I guess. Still can't believe you're gone and our adventure is over before it really got started." It's a somber thought, but he leaves it at that.

What else is there to say?

Time passes, only marked by the slight darkening of the clouds outside the boat and the ticking of Stanley's watch.

He keeps saying 'five more minutes' but that started up about two hours ago. It's been nearly three since settling into bed. His back hurts from staying in the same position, fingers cramped, but he still doesn't want to get up.

That means letting go. He isn't ready for that.

Probably never will be either.

It must be the cold keeping Ford from getting all stiff like dead people should because he's still just as limp and relaxed as when he first died. That thought makes him wince.

"Alright. As fun as this is, I should probably get up and bring us back to port before it gets dark." He says it like Ford will be able to encourage him to do so, like the corpse is going to hold him accountable.

Except, it can't.

Stan finds the willpower to get up and off the bed anyway, leaving Ford tucked in, and heading out into the hallway that is the kitchen and dining room.

Next step is getting back to port, calling the local authorities, and explaining what the hell happened. That won't be fun. None of this is.

He only gets as far as the kitchen before having to sit down.

Who is he kidding? This is impossible. How the hell is he supposed to do any of this?

No matter how hard he tries to cling to the fact that he has other family, because Stanley knows full well how much the kids and Soos care for him, that doesn't make the suddenly unbearable weight on both shoulders any lighter.

The boat is suffocating, cold, and it’s only going to get worse.

When Ford had gone through the portal it was easy enough to rationalize his feelings of hopelessness away using pure denial. Can't be sure Ford is dead if you can't see him.

And yeah, he'd been right, though on all accounts he shouldn't have been.

Stan can't do that here because Ford is very clearly dead and gone.

All those years he'd already been through the first several stages of grief periodically. Denial, anger, and bargaining but had always gotten stuck in the second to last step. Depression.

If people can get past that one, they usually reach acceptance and from there, it’s all about finding a way to live with it.

I can't do that.

How on earth am I supposed to after everything? So many mistakes, miscommunications, lost time, and for what? For it to end here?

What the hell am I supposed to do? Pack it up, return to Gravity Falls, and drink myself to death?

That's probably what he would have done if Ford hadn't been able to make it home. If he'd actually been dead for thirty years and all that effort was for nothing.

It doesn't take much to make up his mind. It’s only a matter of when, not a matter of if.

The painful silence of the ship is interrupted by his watch beeping at him several times, indicating it’s time for his blood pressure medications.

This watch is considerably uglier than his gold one, but its water proof and has some fancy alarm and timer settings.

Ford set it up to remind him.

He all but collapses in on himself with tears escaping easier than before in the office.

This was all he ever wanted, for someone to give a damn about him and now the only person who ever did is gone!

No more bickering about who used all the hot water. Complaining about who's turn it is to handle the laundry. Doing dishes together.

No more laughing, cracking jokes, or arguing over what to have for dinner.

"I can't do this, I'm not strong enough for that." His voice is choked, barely above a whisper.

His own feet bring him to the first aid kit fastened to the wall above the toilet in the bathroom. It's where any medications they might need are kept from ibuprofen to some other more questionable alien junk of Ford's.

Nutrition pills are not a substitute for real food, even when you’re sick of fish Stanford.

Down on the bottom shelf right next to the Aspirin and Tylenol is where his stupid medication is to take-

Except currently there is a small and simple letter propped up on the shelf blocking the several bottles there with 'For Stanley Pines' on the front in neat and actually legible cursive handwriting.

He looks around the bathroom, almost comically, because he really has lost it.

Maybe he actually had his own medical problem while trying to do chest compressions and now he's a ghost or something?

Because this looks like Ford left him a letter right inside their medicine cabinet.

Except he's dead in the other room.

After picking up the letter, and taking his stupid meds, Stan goes back to the bedroom to double-check that the corpse hasn't managed to go anywhere in the last ten minutes.

Nope. Still there.

Okay.... Well, might as well read it then?

He closes the bedroom door first and goes about straightening up the million open doors and all the unnecessary lights left on this whole time, settling against one of the kitchen counters and tearing the envelope open with his pocket knife.

'To Stanley,

If you are reading this letter then you must be in the throes of panic at the moment. As I know well, it’s not very fun to have a brother who continues to terrify you with health scares. I have tried discussing this with you several times, but clearly, you don't fully understand.

Perhaps this spook, over a supposed 'blocked blood vessel', will set the record straight. I do not find your jokes about 'keeling over' to be amusing. Waking me up purposefully drooping one half of your body also isn't funny.

It is for these many reasons I've devised a plan to scare you, briefly. The serum I gave myself to cause the presentation of symptoms should have no permanent or ill health effects. However, it does eventually result in a loss of consciousness, so you will need to administer the antidote.

It is tapped to the roof of our fridge and kept at the appropriate cool temperature until it is ready to be used, with the dosage already measured out in a previously prepared needle. Any vein will do, though it may take some time to circulate and take-"

Stanley doesn't bother finishing the stupid list of instructions Ford may have left him filling out the rest of the letter. In fact, he can't even bring himself to be mad right this second about Ford torturing him like this.

He's alive. That's all that matters.

It’s a rush of slamming open doors, making a mess of the top shelf of the fridge, before Stan is able to find the supposed needle right where the letter said it would be. Back to the bedroom he yanks on the light, tearing off the blanket.

"I knew it, I fucking knew it-"

Or at least he hopes this is real and not some hallucination caused by grief. Seems a little too good to be true, but he'd be willing to gamble on giving Ford sulfuric acid if he left a note saying so right about now.

Sure enough, by the time Stanley is able to yank Ford's closer sleeve up he can see a big X drawn with a sharpie over the vein along the interior of the arm where you'd have blood taken. Or shoot up heroin.

How long does he have to give the antidote? Could it be too late? That letter was probably supposed to be opened hours ago.

Whatever.

No time like the present.

He's done this plenty of times on himself, so it’s not hard.

Using one of Ford's ties out of the closet (a ridiculous thing to bring on a boat) he's able to create a tourniquet without having to go back to the bathroom.

The cap gets removed with his teeth and once the vein is visible, he carefully presses the needle in under the skin before pushing down the plunger and injecting whatever the weird black medication is.

Only after putting the needle aside does he run off to get dressings and gauze to patch up the injection sight and stop the bleeding. The same amount you'd expect from a live body.

A weird sense of euphoria takes hold in the time it takes to secure the gauze over the injection site with some medical tape.

And a little bit of hope.

Rightfully, he should be beyond pissed. What the hell was Ford thinking in the first place? Okay, yeah. They suck at talking, and he hadn't been the most open to Ford's previous complaints about his 'death jokes' and such.

Dark humor. But he hadn't expected Ford to do something this extreme in retaliation.

Talk about a prank war getting out of hand.

This is worse than when they got into a closet territory war in high school and it had ended with them both getting yelled at, and grounded, when some itching powder accidentally ended up in the wrong laundry.

Later he can be upset, but right now Ford will probably be waking up in enough pain over his own stupid choices. Being given CPR is a rather violent experience, his chest is going to hurt considerably for a long while.

That's revenge enough, and-

Okay, maybe you could consider this lesson learned.

Stanley is left to wait, with bated breath, for Ford to wake up.

It's pretty safe for Ford to say that this whole experience turned out to be a lot more traumatizing than it should have been.

Maybe he was a bit of a dick, planning on scaring Stanley a little, but that's all. Just a tiny scare to get his brother to stop being so-

Difficult, let's go with that.

Pain in the ass would be more accurate

Regardless, absolutely nothing had gone to plan and it had very nearly ended in the worst possible way. Him dead, and Stanley heart broken.

What was supposed to happen was pretty simple.

Starting with sending the text, which Stanley would get above deck. Meanwhile, below deck, Ford would cast the spell meant to slow his pulse to an unsteady rate on top of accelerating his breathing. Mimicking something close to a heart attack.

Just for a little scare, with no real consequences.

Then Stanley would come downstairs, freak out, but follow the procedure.

Which is when he would have found the letter, stopping the whole scene before everything got so out of hand. Easy.

But, no.

The text hadn't gone through, because their signal was spotty at best out here.

No problem, because the spell does technically leave a window before putting you into stasis.

Or, it’s supposed to.

Thirty-two and a half seconds isn't nearly enough time to do anything useful, as Ford found out the hard way.

The results were him being left waiting on the floor for Stanley to find him and being left fully aware of every second without being able to do anything to stop it.

Having chest compressions done when your heart is fine, just old, is not fun. Very not fun. One of the more painful experiences he can admit to participating in.

This whole thing, in fact, is up there with one of the top five worst moments in his life.

All because Stanley wouldn't listen!

No, it's because you’re an idiot who seems to only know how to hurt your own brother-

Shut up!

That's not helping anything.

The slow-to-restart heart rate, which never fully stopped, is more painful because of the time left lying around. Not a surprising response to his apparent death, but-

Two broken ribs, and some pretty bad bruising, but otherwise physically he'll be fine.

Just as soon as every vein stops burning from the antidote.

Truly that's a just punishment for the time he's left waiting after feeling the injection up until he's able to breathe and move again.

There is a lot that he could unpack here, but that would involve facing everything that he just caused. Which is terrible.

Better to focus on the one damn good thing to come out of this whole mess.

Stanley loves him.

Not only in the 'brotherly love' kind of way, but it certainly sounded like it had been implied romantically, hadn't it?

The spell or the cold he'd been experiencing couldn't have made up a hallucination like that.

It's logical if you think about it.

Stanley was under the impression he was dead, so why not own up to all kinds of gross and sappy crap? Taking time to mourn everything that was, could have, and is.

Brother, best friend, and-

Lover is a rather big leap to make from some simple implications on their own, but-

Was it two or three hours of straight-up cuddling and holding hands?

That might be as much evidence as Stanley would ever willingly provide without being physically tortured out of it.

Knowing that his own feelings are returned is actually worse than being trapped inside your own skin, because what the hell is he supposed to do with this information?

If they can't talk about Stanley no longer making jokes, how is he supposed to bring this up in a way that doesn't make his brother jump off the boat to drown?

Ford can't help but let out a quiet pained groan with the first gasp of air, taking away the option of saying something first thing.

It's better than screaming, which is what he feels like doing from the pain.

Not the first time an experiment resulted in such poor results, it'll be fine.

"Stanley," is the first thing Ford forces himself to say just as soon as it’s not going to come out sounding too pained. As if either of them needs to feel worse at the moment.

Stan hadn't so much as gotten up off the bed after dressing the injection. He brought up a hand to steady Ford when he tried to sit up too fast. "Woah, take it easy there, Sixer. The world's not going anywhere."

Now is not the time for jokes, Stanley. This isn't funny.

His brother’s ability to compartmentalize traumatic events and the emotions associated with them is astounding. Must be a shared trait.

Trying to talk is like swallowing tacks but he managed to make a motion towards the water bottle they kept hanging from a hook above the bedside table halfway between their bunks.

Relief was about all Stanley could feel getting up only enough to grab the water bottle for Ford before settling back next to him on the bed.

He's still cold, but very much alive.

It's visible in the tense set of Ford's shoulders when he's awake, the crease and possibly only wrinkle on his whole stupid perfect face between his brow from worrying or fretting over something, and the strong grasp around the bottle when taking a drink.

It's almost enough to make him cry again, except Ford is awake now, so he keeps a better lid on those feelings by shoving them back in a closet. Hugging Ford as soon as he's had a drink also allows for a good expression of his worries while actively hiding any stupid emotions (or tears) his face could be doing against his will.

No matter how much it physically hurts (maybe at least one of those ribs is broken, rather than cracked) Ford wholeheatedly returns it while trying to lubricate his mouth and throat enough to say something, anything, useful.

"Did it work at least? Do you understand now how physically upsetting it is to have you faking health scares? That pure terror is what I feel every single time, regardless of if you’re kidding. It's not funny." His voice is still ruined and dry with an edge of ache, but audible.

Stan lets out a dry chuckle, but it's forced and tight. "Yeah, yeah. Alright, you got me. But for the record, I knew it was a sham. I could smell it from a mile away!"

Both eyes are also a little dry from the extensive time spent open up until Stan closed them, which gives a good excuse for why he blinks at Stan like an idiot.

What, does he think I'm stupid?

Sure, Stanley seemed fooled for a while, but the last several hours of panic and grieving-

He doesn't know.

Oh.

Well, that's. A perfectly rational assumption given that's what the letter said, the spell was supposed to end in unconsciousness in a form of slowed metabolism and heart rate in a form of intense hibernation.

"I was awake." The reaction is immediate feeling the hand on either shoulder tighten momentarily with several emotions passing over Stanley's face too fast to read.

Panic is all he catches before its smothered with the rest.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Well, that is almost worse than Ford being dead, because what the hell is he supposed to do now?

They're three hours from port, without anyone around, and no internet connection.

Ford could easily kill him and no one would ever know the difference.

Because that is certainly what's about to happen. He knows, he heard, he saw for fucks sake.

If it wasn't for the physical and literal beating Ford would have already had him in a headlock on the floor.

Watching Stanley physically, and not so subtly, recoil is heartwrenching and Ford won't stand for seeing any more pain on his brother’s face.

There has been enough of that in one lifetime, and tonight.

"Hey, I'm not upset." He has to physically stop Stanley from getting up off the bed by grabbing one shoulder and the closer hand tightly, pulling him back to sit again.

This might be the absolute most embarrassing moment of his whole life.

Worse than the teasing they got as a pair over Ford's kissing bot in high school, which previously held the top spot.

Maybe I should just throw myself overboard to get away from this conversation.

Sure, I'm not dead, but living with 'being let down easy' and then everything spiraling into the most awkward friend zone of all time is much worse.

Death would be kinder.

Stan's whole face flushes bright red but otherwise his expression remains mostly neutral and steeled waiting for whatever comes next. Though its still tempting to run.

Very, very tempting.

This is terrifying, but not nearly as scary as thinking Stanley was going to do something drastic while left to his own devices. In comparison, this is easy.

If you ignore the fact nothing has ever been easy for them.

"I'm, you could say that- I understand." What the fuck was that? He tries again, pushing on because that didn't make any sense. "I mean, I've visited more dimensions then I can count, I'm certainly not- I've grown out of my own reservations, so you could say. But, obviously, I never thought..." He does another lame motion with their linked hands, hoping Stan will read his mind and end this painful moment.

Okay, now this is definitely a hallucination triggered by some sort of mental lapse or stroke.

Ford being dead absolutely did get to him.

Enough to make up a whole letter and shoot up a corpse with some random chemical and now some sick hallucination.

That seems more likely than what Ford is trying to imply or suggest.

But the hand in his, with six fingers enveloping Stan's five, certainly feels real.

And there is the small, helpful, argument-nagging details coming from the back of his head that Ford never actually pissed himself or anything like most dead people do.

Stanley must have picked up the habit of laughing when he's nervous over the last several decades because, from Ford's perspective, nothing about this conversation is funny.

It's very serious and raw, so why the hell is he laughing so hard?

At least he isn't pulling away. That's good?

"For fucks sake, Stanley, can you take anything seriously for one whole minute? Why the hell do I even fancy you? You’re an ass!"

"Fancy me, what are you, a British nark?" Jesus, Stanley can barely breathe trying to calm down but doesn't let Ford pull his hand away an inch.

"I'm going to kill you, just as soon as I can breathe without my whole chest convulsing, I'm going to-"

"Oh, I'll show you being unable to breathe alright." He does not know where the boldness comes from exactly, probably the high from the recent near-death experience, but either way he snatches Ford by the shoulder with his free hand to pull him over into a proper kiss.

He ignores how it tastes of stale water and snot.

[vanessalocke]

Why is official APH France an underrated character?

Today, I would like to repost a post about France that I wrote a long time ago. Please note that this post does not reflect my current views. Next, this is considered my personal blog, so if you disagree, please click back. And this post will only talk about what I (used to) felt about France in the official version, not exactly the France in my current headcanon and fanfic (even though that is the foundation for today).

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[This post is controversial and has a personal opinion. If you disagree, just skip over it. But also because this post is mainly to express my secret thoughts that I don't dare tell anyone, so it's completely hypothetical]

Okay, this is a post about why I like APH France, and why I don't see him the way most people see him.

In short, because his aura looks very bright and when he smiles he is very cute (like the photo below).

I wonder when I fell in love with him, because it's been so many years, I can't remember. I will never be able to remember exactly how I fell.

Yeah pretty sure when people first watch Hetalia everyone thinks he's the typical sweet badboy, some people even say he's ex f^ck boiz and I'm no exception. But... damn, the more I follow this guy, the more I see his stereotype being wrong.

At this point it should be noted that when I talk about APH France, I am talking about France from 2011 onwards. It must be clarified that in the early days of APH, Hima's expression was quite dark. Maybe at that time Hima drew APH to be satirical or something, so not only was the plot quite ironic at times (and a lot of times he was sarcastic wrongly) but also the characters he built were very... But c'mon, MORE THAN 10 years have passed, just 1 year is enough to change people's way of thinking, let alone 10 years. Not to mention, APH does not have a specific plot or spirit to be consistent from beginning to end, so the later APH compared to the first APH has a completely different atmosphere and attitude, otherwise I want to say that APH has almost transformed into a new shape and only takes the first period as the root to develop. APH later became much gentler, lovely and brighter.

(When I wrote these lines, I still liked APH so I still defended it. Oh, what beautiful old days)

And I'll say it straight out that I didn't like the early APH. I also didn't like the way Hima built his characters in the early stages.

Okay, back to the main point. France is a very special character in APH. Why do I say France, not Italy - the central character, Germany - the king carrying the team, or Japan - the artist’s mother country? That's because when I read the early APH comics, I had a pretty clear feeling that the artist didn't like France.

It's not that he hated him, but he didn't like him and looked down on France a bit. Not to mention that Hetalia is strongly influenced by America's point of view and men often dislike France, think that French people are sissy. Basically, back then the way this artist looked at France was no different from the way everyone make memes "the white flag is the flag of France", "France is useless", etc. It was like everyone feels that this guy is very perverted, very annoying, very colorful, like a vase and can't do anything else. But like I said above, more than 10 years is a long process. Although the entire APH series does not have a consistent plot, Himaruya had a "development" in the way he views the main character he created. Partly because this is a series that takes references from real life and is not completely fiction, it is completely understandable for Hima to change the way he builds or even the perspective of his own character.

That's why later on France had a few solo episodes, all the deep emotions were attributed to France - something that is very contradictory to the "dark humor" stories he drew about France in the beginning. I don't know if it was to "compensate" for Himaruya pushing France down too much before.

Anyway, that's about the background. Below I will list the reasons I like this character:

- As for the character's personality, as I said, France has a very bright aura. I'm not talking about literary history or French reforms in real life, but just in the main story alone, I can see that there's something very... intelligent about him. Not trivially clever, but intelligence like, knowing a lot and understanding deeply. The fact that he is sharp and intelligent is also confirmed by the strip where he holds a knife to Prussia's neck and laughs.

- Then there's the emotional aspect. From Jeanne d'Arc to Napoleon, it is completely obvious that France is a very emotional person, a bit childishly attached to those he loves. Yes, that's right, he always says "I'm the big brother of Europe" but when he's with people he loves, he's EXTREMELY childish, likes to act spoiled, likes to attract attention (For example, he was cheerfully excited when he was with Lisa or was chased by Napoleon).

- France's way of expressing emotions is very vivid. When he is angry, he will say that he is angry; When he feels sorry for himself, he bites the towel; If he likes attention, he acts like a clown;... but never once has he lost his temper to attack others just because he was hurt. I mean, from all the symptoms I've seen in France so far, I can determine that France can be arrogant, picky, and difficult to please, but I've never once felt like he lost control of himself.

- Yeah sure, when he broke into England's house, was talkative, wore a pink dress and had eyelashes, you can see that he no longer has any shame, but I like people like this. Funny, optimistic and extremely confident.

- He really likes to care and take care of others. This is based on:

1. He is very attached to his previous bosses (as mentioned above),

2, He cooks very well, people who like to cook and cook well are people who like to take care of and see joy from others,

3. On America's independence day, he not only patted America's head but also gave him the Statue of Liberty,

4, Italy often confides in France. France also works as a newscaster giving love advice to others, and he is one of the few people who not only is not afraid of Russia but even comes up to ask about the other person's health,

5. Do you remember the Christmas episode where England called and scolded France? That evening France was alone and looked down at Paris. In the episode about a soldier meeting France and wondering about the life and death of the nation, the ending is also a scene of France sitting and watching the flow of people passing by. France is not only proud of himself, he also loves being close to people and

6, I didn't include this but if you want to take an example from APH in the first few years, there is this scene: when England was so sick, France was really panicked and worried. Even without bringing a romantic perspective here, for me it is a genuine concern between human.

- He is mean, meticulous, and profiteering. Damn him. I don't understand how he can play with Spain. One person remembers that people owe him every penny, one person "Huh? Do I have debt? When did I owe it??"

- Actually... sometimes this guy's EQ is unexpectedly low, especially with things related to England. I don't know how, every time England shows a little interest in him, he always "?:D huh? What's going on? You're planning something with me, right? Let's get to the main point, why are you rambling on?". I don't know how many times Mr. Kirkland has sighed at this guy.

- He is only mean to other countries, but to ordinary people he is very gentle and loving. With women, he has distance but is not impolite.

- It looks radical but is actually extremely conservative. In fact, no matter how much his country reforms and changes, he always seems to be somewhat attached to the monarchy, always recalling his past. Not to mention that he is one of the oldest men in Europe, and he is always nostalgic for previous bosses. As an old man and a secret royalist, it can be expected that France is quite a conservative person.

- That's why the aristocratic blood is deeply ingrained in the personality. Except when he is in a joking mood, every scene of Hima drawing France always has something quite aristocratic. Not the type of strict and meticulous aristocrat like Austria, but the type of guy who wakes up and carries his messy hair out into the street but still looks beautiful.

- France has "an iron fist covered in velvet". He seems very easy-going and pleasant. There are many cases where others just need to beg him a little and he will give in. But in the cases where he said no, it meant no. When he is serious, he is very decisive and does not compromise. One time America broke down and asked for a drink, but he firmly refused (Yes, the fact that America doesn't know how to drink alcohol has been confirmed in official). When he met his idol's reincarnation, he disappeared completely after talking, leaving his idol to live her own life. When he collects debt from others, he is also very decisive LOL.

- He is very beautiful in a feminine way. Beautiful in a feminine way to the point of having to grow a beard and body hair to make people feel masculine. I bet he has endured sexual solicitation from old men.

- He has a lot of part-time jobs, from waiter to announcer to stylist. Was hired by England to be a chef at his place for a while => didn't go to work because of lack of money, but because he was multi-talented => liked to go on strike probably because he was "tired of being too good", because he is afraid that the world is not chaotic enough, because he is bored. He's not lazy, because if he was lazy he wouldn't go to work so much, and with his great body, I think he works out quite hard at the gym.

- Sometimes he's quite silly and weird. America just has a childish personality, but this guy is sometimes inexplicably euphoric. He cares too much about auxiliary things like clothes and hair accessories, but forgets about the main things. He argues with people about silly things. When he fights with people, he asks where the fabric comes from to make such beautiful clothes instead of focusing on fighting. When people asked his opinion, he always talked off topic. When people criticize him, he looks away, covers his ears, and whistles, "The weather is so beautiful today." He also raises dozens of silly birds.

In general, this man is not what he appears to be. He looks like a typical Don Juan but in reality he's mostly just an embellishment, seems mature but actually has a very childish temperament, seems to be sociable but is the type of person who can restore his own energy and doesn't need too much human attention. He doesn't seem to care about his appearance but is actually very proud. He seems heartless and shallow but is actually a thoughtful person. He likes to talk off topic, collect debts, drama queen- no, drama king. Extremely crazy and silly.

This guy's mind is so contradictory and complicated that the more I dig, the more interesting things I find.

And that's why Francis Bonnefoy is loved.

Ps: let me tell you a little about the Zodiac: Francis is a typical Pisces.

[lev-1athan]

How to Survive Being Online

There was an article going around a few weeks back that listed dozens of good things that happened in 2024 globally. The site linked to a weekly roundup newsletter called "Fix the News" that I subscribed to, and it's SO wonderful. It's free, but there's also a paid version. It links its sources as well.

As an American who has been spiraling into hopelessness, it puts into perspective that a lot of progress is still happening worldwide and it's helped to shift my perspective from being so Western-centric.

This week's newsletter included this advice from Mike Monteiro (cw for some ableist language; bolding is mine)

"The only way to defeat a narcissistic sociopath is to starve them. Protect yourself from their bullshit, of course, but move away from it. Let them have their stage, but refuse to be their audience. This isn’t easy. It’s especially difficult because capitalism is an attention economy. The New York Times and The Washington Post love a narcissistic sociopath because they generate clicks and clicks sell ads. Social media loves a narcissistic sociopath for the same reason, but it’s even worse. On social media, we’re the ones carrying their water. Trump says something that he knows will get him attention (i.e. renaming the Gulf of Mexico) and not only does it fire up hundreds of media outlets, who now divert attention to this idiocy, but it also fires up tons of people like me and you, who end up reposting his garbage. Some of us because we feel like we’re media outlets (we’re not), some of us because we’re freaked out and freaking other people out justifies our own freak-out, and some of us because we were once bitten by a narcissistic sociopath under a full moon and we want to generate some of those sweet sweet likes in our direction. The first four years of Donald Trump was a continuous panic attack. I’m not going through that again. You don’t have to either. They’re on stage, but you don’t have to be their audience."

A few positives in this week's newsletter: Wage inequality has declined in two-thirds of countries since 2000 A new report from the International Labour Organisation has revealed that, since the early 2000s, global wage inequality has fallen at an average rate ranging from 0.5% to 1.7% annually, with the most significant decreases occurring in LMICs. Global real average wage growth has started to surpass inflation, with projections reaching 2.7% growth for 2024, the highest increase in over 15 years. (source)

The fastest energy transition in history continues Solar and wind are being installed at a rate five times faster than all other new electricity sources—including gas, hydro and nuclear—combined. At these growth rates, energy think tank, Ember estimates that by 2032, solar and wind generation will surpass the combined output of coal and gas. Step by step, the outlook for the world’s energy mix is getting brighter. (source)

Aid begins pouring into Gaza Over 2,400 aid trucks have entered the Gaza Strip since the cessation of hostilities was announced on Sunday. The truce requires at least 600 truckloads of aid to be allowed into Gaza every day of the initial six-week ceasefire. “This is a moment of tremendous hope — fragile, yet vital,” says Tom Fletcher, the United Nations undersecretary general for humanitarian affairs. (source)

Anyway, I highly recommend taking a look. This has seriously helped my mental health, and I think we could all use a little respite.

[sssano]

PAINT THE PIRATES RED.

Just a random quick drawing I made for Eustass 'Captain' Kidd and Trafalgar D. Water Law. Got very out-of-the-blue inspiration from one scene in Doja Cat's Paint the Town Red mv. Reference here: [link] Like my art? Considering supporting me with a Ko-Fi. ^^ or Want one for yourself, read my commissions here. -BRIGHTER VERSION UNDER THE CUT-

Please DO NOT COPY, STEAL OR MAKE YOUR OWN. Please DO NOT REPOST.

[cinder-aj]

I did the "Evil Artstyle Challenge" in which you try to draw without the hallmarks of your Artstyle. Here is the (eye-strain-free) result:

I haven't actually drawn Ivy in this capacity in a long time. (Ignore the dates on my tumbr posts, many are Instagram reposts from years ago.)

I was told that my style had many angular features, especially in the head and chest, so I softened things out. I made the legs thinner and the talons simpler and larger. I also changed how I drew the wings. I usually draw a simplified version of the canon scales of dragons in the books, so here I simplified it even more.

I was told my lineart was thin and consistent, so I made the lineart vary in thickness but mostly be thick. I also used the lineart to shade. I mostly use black lineart, but I sometimes do colored lineart on occasion, so I don't really consider lineart color part of my style. I still used colored lineart, it's just very dark.

Most of the time, my colors aren't super saturated, so I made them brighter. The above image is adjusted for eyestrain. The real image is below:

⚠️EYESTRAIN WARNING⚠️

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⚠️

⚠️

[aptericia]

reposting my Soan design with a back view and some adjustments! Ramblings under the readmore:

The bracers, shin guards, maroon belt, and useless little arm-things are all taken from his official transformed artwork. There are a few differences between the game CG and his Cipher card, so I just picked whichever version of each item I liked better

His face markings are also taken from his transformed version. I decided he keeps the large one on his forehead but not the ones over his nose and cheeks (like Skrimir does)

All the lions have straight hair while transformed, even if they have curly hair normally, so it’s hard to tell what texture Soan’s hair would be. I decided to keep it straight and (relatively) short like his mane, but added hair ties for more interest. I made it a brighter green—more like Stefan’s hair—than his official art because I thought that looked better with his color scheme

No known lions are shown with tails untransformed, but I thought he should have one, so here we are 🤷‍♀️

The outfit is based most closely on Caineghis’s, but I tried to make it look less “kingly” (i.e. shorter tunic, no cape, etc.), as I imagine this is before he founds Gallia. The pattern along the bottom of his tunic and the abundance of tassels are inspired by Altina’s design. The eye-like pattern along the purple trim is also on Altina’s outfit, and the same motif is present in Sanaki, Sephiran, Light Priestess Micaiah, Ashera, and Yune’s designs

It’s noted that beast laguz have excellent night vision, but rather poor daytime vision compared to the bird laguz, suggesting that they have a higher ratio of rods to cones in their eyes. So to them, light/dark differences would be more apparent than color differences. I considered that when coloring Soan’s outfit and made sure it would be readable in grayscale

his hair and skin tones ended up pretty close though :/

Thanks for reading! 🤗

[cru5h-cascades]

Okay I made one of these last year so might as well do it again but for this year :D

I might add some more stuff onto this if I remember anything else but for now, here's...

2024: A Year that Happened

A rundown of highlights from this year over here at Cru5htown

January - Poppy Playtime Chapter 3 releases! Public perception of the game shifts from looking down on the game to singing its praises! Side Order's release date is revealed and the crowd goes wild! Also I ended up getting my first mutual on this site, Lbodraws!

February - Side Order releases and I start work on what would go on to pretty much be my most iconic Splatoon OC, Winnie, because the Parallel Canon exists. This is also the month where I found out about Maya and the Three and started going buck wild with reposting fanart for the series and making some stuff of my own.

March - Pretty uneventful month tbh I don't remember much that happened this month.

April - The Death of Slim Shady gets announced! Because my curiosity was peaked by the announcement I started listening to more of Eminem's music and became a fan of the guy. During the same month, Jojo Siwa releases Karma and the rebrand goes into full swing.

May - Another uneventful month

June - That one debate between Trump and Biden happened and the Zelda Game Where You Actually Play as Zelda is announced. Also the iconic Other Friends animatic featuring both @eliziethegirl's and my OCs is released :D

JULY - Okay this is when shit gets WILD. LIKE ABSOLUTELY BATSHIT CRAZY. Okay so July 1st we get a release date for TDoSS, Jojo Siwa's first EP releases the same day TDoSS comes out, and Splatoon 3's first Summerfest happens that same weekend (this is also the first splatfest I ended up getting into a match with a splatuber!). Relatively normal month, right? WRONG. JULY 10TH, 2024. 3 DAYS BEFORE TDOSS RELEASES. I end up getting vids on YT talking about a mysterious "new Nintendo IP" teased that very morning. I put off looking any further into the topic until later that day and I watch a few vids on the subject matter. That morning, Nintendo posted a video onto their YT channels simply titled Emio, featuring a dude in a paper bag mask just standing there menacingly. This teaser would keep everyone guessing what tf is going on for a week until we got the full reveal and a bunch of people lost investment in the mystery bag man game. Except for me and a few others, who would go on to post frequently about the game for a while and continue to post about the game TO THIS DAY. Anyways, Biden drops out of the election and somebody tries to assassinate Trump.

August - Not only does the Co-op Cult of the Lamb update drop, but the full release of Emio as well. Man that game was a trip. Also a phone ban is enacted in my school.

September - I play the bonus chapter of Emio and boy howdy I was not ready for how dark that was gonna be. Anyways Grandfest and Grand Run happen in S3 and Team Past wins Grandfest. Here's to hoping for 2000s themed Splatoon 4 with a rock band for the idol group.

October - Deltarune Chapters 3 & 4 are confirmed to come out in 2025 :D

November - Trump, unfortunately, wins the election. But on the brighter side of things I figure out how to do Splatoon voices in Beepbox thanks to the awesome @celestedoesarttm and I start churning out my reworked versions of my Splatoon OCs.

December - Luigi Mangione murks United Healthcare CEO and everyone goes buck wild. Soon enough people start digging up stuff from the guy's past and his story becomes more and more interesting (Fun fact: did you know Luigi has played Slime Rancher, Undertale, and Celeste?). Poppy Playtime Chapter 4's release date and main villain are revealed and I couldn't help but have a sense of deja vu when they showed off Harley Sawyer's design for the chapter lmfaoooo

[synergysilhouette]

Remaking "Wolverine & the X-Men" (Roster)

I made a rewrite of WATXM almost a year ago, and I wanted to post the roster/costumes I'd put them in! I'd also change the body types of the show, making the females less paper-thin (their legs were like twigs), and making the guy's scrawny lower half match their buff upper bodies.

Note: I will be reposting my rewrite, but as one post rather than the two separate posts they were originally.

Wolverine's classic outfit can stay--though I'd prefer it to be cowless, especially since the setting removes the need for masks. I definitely like Beast's feline look (with glasses, though), as well as Angel in blue and white. Forge's design in the show felt too juvenile, and I'd prefer a more mature--albeit casual--look for him; I'd want Shadowcat's Mekanix/X-Treme X-Men costume, but perhaps a different color, and this seemed like the right show for Iceman's black and red outfit (but use pants instead of shorts, and go for the sleeveless look). I loved Storm's WATXM outfit, though I wanted to be unique and chose one of her 90s looks (IDK if it's supposed to be blue or black, but I'd make it black), Emma's look can stay, I'd give Quintin his traditional costume, Cyclops' revolution outfit fits perfectly here, as does Rogue's green hood. Nightcrawler's classic look can stay, and I like Jubilee's HoX costume and the black version of Manifold's suit.

BTW, this is just who stays at the mansion; this full roster doesn't always go into the field.

Quicksilver's blue looks do NOT get enough attention, Polaris' recent outfit is amazing, and Wanda's "Axis" costume is glorious. I'd like the modern take on Kwannon's iconic look (though in the show, she and Betsy Braddock are conflated into one person), Gambit's Hellfire Gala look deserves attention (albeit covering the skin for practical reasons), and Domino's solo outfit feels a bit more energetic, visually. Avalanche's UXM outfit is his best, and Toad's WATXM look can stay. And Magneto's "X-Men: Blue" look is underrated, though I'd make sure the black is noticeable and make Mr. Sinister's blue outfit a brighter shade to avoid similarities.

Here are the current rewrites (which I'll delete after I post the new one):

Part I

Part II

[thelampisaflashlight]

It's hazy/smoky out today so I couldn't go for a walk, and I didn't feel like getting a workout in, so I decided to start a piece on canvas using colored pencils where the primary layer was done in greens, blues, and yellows, with the brighter highlights being done with a random Prismacolor marker I found in a box of used art supplies I was gifted.

I then scanned the piece (code for: Stood on my bed above it to get the angles fucking right) and went into my paint programs to dick around with layering and to add more peach to the face.

I did a couple flipped layers to shade in certain parts a little differently and... I don't totally hate it.

The reason why I struggled with these piece in particular, apart from, well, the everything going on, is because the subject I picked for it was someone I don't always like looking at...

Me.

I think, every so often, it's okay to look at yourself and go, "This is going to be for me/of me"

Does it look completely like myself? No.

Do I think I will ever capture my likeness to a degree that I'm like, "That's me!" and think of it fondly? Nope.

But sometimes ya gotta make a funky little picture of yourself.

I might lose this version some day, and all I'll have is the original work on the canvas panel, still so yellow and green, and maybe I'll throw it away, but for now here it is.

And now I'll be going back to drawing my silly little guys like this:

And maybe make another one of these in a year or more lmao

[Do Not Repost]

[georgiapeach30513]

I recently saw a blog reposted the 2022 SMA live video gifs.

I think CE looked quite handsome in those photos but idk…the look on his face just gave me the vibes. Defeated. Subdued. Sad.

I also saw Patrick dempsey’s version while he walked by the beach and he was glowing. Honestly a huge difference and I was a bit taken back. Patrick is decently older and does look his age but he also looked great and was smiling as he walked around the beach. It was a good shot.

But while I didn’t really notice anything last year - revisiting those CE pics this year - all I saw was someone whose shine had been noticeably dulled. To me, his most recent GQ photo shoot also reflects the same dulled shine.

I also saw another blog posted an old pap pic of him and minka walking hand in hand somewhere - they were both dressed in black and on a red carpet - his smile/laugh was so much brighter than anything he’s been publicly pictured doing these last two years. Yes that was a posed shot but he and minka looked great together. They even matched outfits. Their hand holding was cute too. I looked at that photo to see if I could notice any strained or cringed look that he was unhappy or looking awkward because of faking for the cameras but honestly didn’t see any.

Hopefully I’m wrong and it’s nothing - but I’m just not seeing the same vibe on this man as of recently. Whether it be posed for cameras or just candidly out in the wild.

What I can say is there are clear differences between him in the past, and him recently. Who knows as to why.

I was one of the few who liked Minka. Still don’t have a problem with her. She’s gorgeous, and doing well. She’s also going to be in a new movie.

I guess we can make a thousand excuses as to what’s going on. But pictures say so much. It’s the way he actually looks at Minka. They were a pretty couple. But ultimately both have moved on with their lives. Even if Minka still has her moments.

[acacia-may]

There Is Happiness (OMORI Kelbrey Fanfiction)

Description: Aubrey hadn’t always been this way. She could still remember a younger, less jaded version of herself who was actually excited about the idea of prom. A happier Aubrey who had used to giggle with Mari over the gowns in store catalogs and dream about all of her friends getting dressed up and going dancing together one day. A more innocent Aubrey who used to spend hours making plans for a future that would never get to happen. Her friends never got to go to a prom, and neither did she…Until now that is...

OR

Nearly a decade after the bad ending of OMORI, Kel and Hero plan a fake "prom" to surprise Sally, drudging up bittersweet memories for Aubrey about her friends--both the ones she had lost and, especially, the ones, who like her, had been left behind to pick up the pieces. Will confronting the past lead her to a brighter future?

Kelbrey Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, & How Their (Functional) Relationship Developed Over Time After the Bad Ending of OMORI. (Note: This is a standalone one shot that is a completely different bad end AU than my other really angsty bad end AU fic).

Relationships: KELBREY (Romantic Kel x Aubrey) CENTRIC (Functional, Healthy, Slow Burn Kelbrey). There are also important platonic friendships discussed & depicted in flashbacks: Aubrey & Hero & Kel friendship, Aubrey & Kel & Sally friendship, Aubrey & Mari friendship, Aubrey & Kel & Sunny & Basil & Hero & Mari friendship [Aubrey & Kel's friendships with Basil, Sunny, & Mari are a recurring & important theme]. Past Romantic Hero x Mari is referenced/heavily implied.

Characters: Aubrey (POV Character), Kel, Hero, Sally, and Mari (Sunny & Basil also appear briefly and are mentioned).

Genre: Slow Burn Romance, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Developing Romance Through the Years, Angst With A Hopeful Ending, Post-Bad Ending, Many Flashback Sequences, Prom

Word Count: 12,748

Rating: T for some heavy themes and thematic elements (i.e. grief & healing from grief and trauma. Implied/Referenced Canonical Character Death & Implied/Referenced Mental Health Issues including depression & suicide).

Warnings: Major Spoilers for OMORI! Heavy themes and thematic elements (i.e. grief & healing from grief and trauma. Implied/Referenced Canonical Character Death & Implied/Referenced Mental Health Issues including depression & suicide). Kissing.

Link to original post on AO3. Please do not repost to another website.

A/N: Unfortunately, I missed Kelbrey Week because I did not know the ship even existed at the time (and had never played OMORI back in the dark ages of a couple of months ago), but I saw the prompts on Tumblr and was really inspired by the Prom prompt. Not only did the idea of "Kelbrey Prom" get a bunch of wheels turning in my brain, it also just so happened to be the prompt on my birthday, so I felt like it was it was just meant to be and I needed to write this story as soon as I had the idea. So I just wanted to offer a word of many, many thanks to @kelbreyweek for the prompt & inspiration for this story. 💕

Story below the cut. Thank you for reading!

Aubrey slammed her foot on the brake. She had lived in Faraway Town her whole life and still forgot about that stop sign. She probably always would.

The intersection was bustling today, and there was far more traffic than usual for a Saturday night. Aubrey supposed that was to be expected seeing as it was their local high school’s prom tonight, and the streets and sidewalks were filled with gussied-up teenagers in suits and poofy, colorful dresses. Aubrey rolled her eyes, conveniently ignoring the fact that she was in a pink prom dress herself—but at the very least it wasn’t that poofy.

Aubrey didn’t understand all the prom hype, especially now that she was trying to drive with teens darting in and out of the road and the straps of her dress uncomfortably digging into her arms whenever she tried to turn her steering wheel. She sighed. She sounded like such a grouchy old woman.

She hadn’t always been like that. The memories were hazy now, but she could still remember a younger less weathered, less jaded version of herself who was actually excited about the idea of prom.

*-*-*

“They’re so lucky,” sighed Aubrey glancing up from her pizza to watch the group of teenagers who had just walked into Gino’s dressed up in their finest suits and prettiest dresses for the prom.

Mari chuckled but patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. That’ll be you too soon enough.”

“It’ll be you sooner,” Aubrey insisted with a widening smile. “You’ll get to go in just a couple of years, right?” She paused, then giggled teasingly. “With Hero.”

Hero’s face flushed, and he grew suddenly interested in his piece of pizza. Mari’s expression softened—something affectionate passing over her eyes as she chuckled at him behind her hand. She shrugged her shoulders then teased, “I don’t know. I might have to think about it,” but she winked at him and the blush in his cheeks deepened.

“Why do you even need a date to the prom anyway? Can’t you just go with your friends?” asked Kel as he practically shoveled pizza into his mouth.

Aubrey rolled her eyes and huffed. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth. It’s so gross.”

“You’re gross,” bantered Kel, sticking his tongue out at her before shoving the rest of his piece of pizza into his mouth.   

Aubrey huffed again, but Hero gently interrupted changing the subject. “I think people do go to prom in groups with their friends. You don’t have to take a date like in the movies.” He paused before turning to his brother with a dry, bantering smile. “But if you want someone to take you, I’m sure Kel can.”

“No way! I’m not going to the prom with her. Basil can take her.”

“Wha—what? Why me?” stumbled Basil, bright red in the face.

“Because they always have those flower bracelets at the prom in the movies and you know all about flowers and stuff.”

“That’s called a corsage, moron,” bantered Aubrey. “And don’t worry, I’d rather go to prom with Hector than you.”

With a confused tilt of his head, Kel blinked at her. “Can we take dogs to prom? Awesome!” Kel beamed, and Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I’ll take Hector then, and Basil can take Aubrey.”

Basil’s blush deepened as he twisted his hands. “Well…um…I mean…” He paused, swallowing hard. “Well…maybe Sunny can take you…? He’s probably better at dancing.”

“Sunny will take you,” agreed Mari with a warm smile. “Won’t you, Sunny?”

Sunny pursued his lips together and pensively stared at his hands. Aubrey wasn’t sure but his face seemed a little more flushed than usual. He finally nodded briskly and quietly said, “Okay” though he wouldn’t look up from his plate.

Mari’s smile widened, and she chuckled. “See, problem solved.”

“I don’t understand why we can’t just all go to prom together,” sighed Kel. “You, me, Sunny, Basil, and Hector, and Hero and Mari too even though they’ll be older. We can all just go as friends.”

“That sounds nice,” said Sunny so quietly he was difficult to hear over the low roar and ruckus of the restaurant patrons.

“See!” exclaimed Kel triumphantly. “Sunny agrees with me. We should all just plan to go together as friends.”

“You might change your mind when you get older, Kel,” teased Hero with a dry but affectionate smile. Kel grimaced, sticking his tongue out at his older brother.

“No way!” He huffed then turned to Basil. “You think this sounds like a good idea, right Basil?”

“Wha—what? Oh…uh…yeah okay…” he stammered unsurely.

“Aubrey?”

Kel crossed his arms and glared at her, but Aubrey sighed and conceded, “Alright, but only because Sunny likes the idea. It might be nice for all of us to go as friends, but if I get a date, he’s coming with us too, okay?”

Mari started laughing behind her hand as Kel exaggeratedly rolled his eyes and huffed, “Whatever.”

*-*-*

A bittersweet smile tugged at Aubrey’s mouth. How silly they were then—how innocent. There was a pang in her chest, even now, so many years later as she remembered how they had spent hours together talking and laughing—making plans for a future that would never get to happen. She remembered how she used to giggle with Mari over the evening gowns in department store catalogs, sighing wistfully at the billboards advertising that year’s prom theme at the local high school, and dreaming of the day they’d get to go to one themselves. Aubrey’s chest ached as she sighed. Mari never got to go to a prom, and neither did she…

*-*-*

Tears prickled in Aubrey’s eyes as she glanced over the unworn prom dress still hanging up on the back of the closet door. She would probably feel better if she just shoved it into the back of her closet, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She had worked so hard for that dress—picking up extra shifts at Gino’s to afford such a luxury. She had justified it by reminding herself it was probably the only time in her life that she would get to wear such a dress, and this one was exactly what she had always dreamed: deep pink, floor-length chiffon. As soon as she saw it in the department store, a real, genuine smile had tugged at her mouth for the first time in so long that the sensation had felt almost foreign to her. And when she had finally bought the dress and tried it on for her friends to see, Charlene had quietly said she looked happy in it. She didn’t need to add that Aubrey hadn’t looked happy for a very long time.

A tear streamed down Aubrey’s cheek. She had wanted to wear that dress and go to the prom, but she just couldn’t—not today. Not now. Not without them.

Aubrey sniffled—rubbing her hand across her throbbing forehead. Her headache was so severe that she was actually starting to hear the pounding of her head. Or at least she thought she was until her mother called in a slurred, irritated voice,   

“Aubrey! Get the door.”

Aubrey quickly wiped her eyes and scurried downstairs.

“Tell them whatever they’re selling we don’t want it,” her mother added with a dismissive wave of her hand as Aubrey walked by the couch carefully tiptoeing around the empty liquor bottles which littered the ground.

Aubrey wasn’t sure who was at their front door, but she doubted a salesman would be bothering them at this time of night. Still she mumbled, “Okay” as she turned the bolts of the lock and opened the door.

“Hey, Aubrey,” said Kel with a slight wave of his hand and a friendly smile. “How’s it going?”

Aubrey could only blink at him. He was dressed in a nice, dark suit with an unexpected bright pink tie. If she had been feeling better, she probably would’ve thought of a dry quip to tease him about it but instead she just sighed, ushering him out onto the porch before her mother got irritated by the noise.

“Kel, what are you doing here?” she asked through her teeth. “Aren’t you supposed to be at prom?”

Kel shrugged. “I was there for a while, but you weren’t there so I thought I’d come check on you.”

“Sorry…”—Aubrey’s face flushed—“I tried to call you…”

“I know,” he interrupted. “I got your message. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…I…uh…wasn’t feeling up to it.” Aubrey sighed, hoping that Kel wouldn’t read too much into it.

“Oh…are you feeling sick? The pharmacy should still be open. I can run down to—”

“No, Kel,” she cut him off, placing her hand on his arm. “That is…uh…I’m fine. You should go back to the prom. I don’t want to ruin your night.”

Kel’s expression softened, and he smiled at her. “Don’t worry about it. The prom was kind of boring without you anyway.” He paused. “You sure you don’t want to—?”

“Yeah,” she cut him off just a little too forcefully, trying her best to frown despite her flushed face.

“Okay…” he said quietly. “Then…do you mind if I hang out here for a little while?”

Aubrey’s face grew warm with guilt and embarrassment. Just because she had ruined her own night didn’t mean she had to ruin Kel’s as well. “You really don’t have to do that.”

“Nah. I want to. I’d rather spend tonight with you than at the dumb prom anyway.”

“Kel, I can’t let you do that,” she insisted, but he smiled at her.

“It’s just a bunch of people dancing and stuff—and sure that’s fun and all but it’s not as cool as everyone acts like it is.” He shrugged his shoulders. “They did hang all these Christmas lights from the ceiling though and that was kinda cool—since the theme is ‘A Night Under the Stars.’” Sighing, Kel took a seat on the porch—leaning back on his hands and looking up at the sky. “But there are real stars out here which are better anyway.”

“Kel…” Aubrey began to argue, but she wasn’t sure what to say. “You can’t just miss your prom.”

“Sure I can,” he shrugged with matter-of-fact nonchalance. “You are, aren’t you? And the prom always mattered way more to you. You were really looking forward to it…” Kel’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Did someone break your heart or something so you didn’t want to come anymore?”

Aubrey stifled a breathy chuckle but shook her head. “No. Nothing like that. I wasn’t even planning on going with a date.” She paused, glancing over at Kel’s pink tie. “Won’t your date be upset that you left?”

“Oh uh…” chuckled Kel awkwardly, fidgeting with his tie. “I didn’t go with one.”

“Really?” The question slipped out before Aubrey could think to stop it, but Kel just shrugged his shoulders.

“Yep.” He paused and sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. “To tell you the truth, I—I kind of wanted to ask this one girl, but it didn’t work out. Oh well…”

Aubrey paused. While he was one of her best friends, they never really discussed their love lives or lack thereof. She didn’t even know Kel was romantically interested in anyone and couldn’t even begin to guess who it was. She supposed it was none of her business, but if Kel had left prom early because of this girl rather than just to check on her, it would certainly help her feel better about things.

“Is she the reason you left?” asked Aubrey taking a seat next to him on the porch.

Kel froze, and his cheeks flushed. “Wha—what?” he stumbled, more awkward than she ever would’ve expected from the happy-go-lucky Kel. He chuckled lightly but didn’t say no.

“It’s okay if she is. I wasn’t going to tease you or anything. I just—” She stopped. “I just don’t want to you miss out,” she said in a shaky voice. “Especially not because of me.”

“I already said don’t worry about it. I’d rather spend prom night with you, even if we don’t actually go to the prom.” Aubrey’s mouth twitched, she could almost hear the smile in his voice, but she frowned with a heavy sigh.

“But you already missed the last one…”

“Because Basil—” Kel’s voice cracked. He didn’t finish that statement, but he didn’t have to. Basil had died just a few weeks before their Junior Prom and the last thing either of them had wanted to do was go to some big party, especially one that Basil should have been attending himself, and instead they had spent prom night at the spot in the park where they had always had picnics with their friends, then sitting around Kel’s kitchen table looking through Basil’s old photo albums.

Aubrey had never told Kel that she had been considering skipping prom months before Basil’s death anyway, too saddened by the idea of having to go without Sunny and of Mari having never been able to go to hers. Basil’s death and the note he left behind for them was the final straw. She wouldn’t have blamed Kel if he had still wanted to go himself, but he had told her he was just too sad. She could understand that. Back then, it really felt like neither of them would ever be happy again.

But this year… she had been so determined, so set on going and trying to have to good time because she knew her friends wouldn’t want her to miss out on it on their account. Aubrey’s insides twisted, and her eyes burned, tears prickling behind them again.

“Aubrey?” When she turned to look at him, the faint flush of red had faded from his cheeks and his expression had softened but a look of concern quickly passed over his eyes. “Have you been crying?”

Aubrey’s face grew hot, and she swallowed hard as she frantically swiped at her eyes again. How red and puffy were they that Kel had noticed? “You can’t just ask someone that, Kel,” she replied with a shaky, bantering huff, but Kel only blinked at her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, and Aubrey bit her lip. She couldn’t believe him—skipping over the ‘are you sure you’re okay?’ questions and straight to the ‘do you want to talk?’ Aubrey sighed though she felt a blush fill her cheeks and she fidgeted. She should probably expect it by now, given how many deep conversations she and Kel had been having over the past two years ever since Sunny and Basil had passed away. Her chest ached at the thought. Kel was giving her that look now—like he could see right through her, knew something was wrong and knew she was hurting even if she didn’t have the words to say it. She could see his pain too—that hollowness that crept into his smiles, that bittersweet sadness in his eyes. Kel’s eyes reflected the same pain that ached in her chest whenever she thought of Mari or Sunny or Basil. She was sure he could see his own grief in her as well, and perhaps that’s what had led them to find each other in the first place, in the wake of the loss of their friends—clinging to each other like two lost souls, sharing things with each other they could never even begin to tell anyone else.

“You can talk to me,” he gently encouraged her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Aubrey took a deep breath. She didn’t know if she wanted to unpack this, and she certainly didn’t want to dump it all onto Kel. She already felt guilty enough that he had left the prom to check up on her. But the look on Kel’s face was so warm and so kind, and the words, the painful truth was eating away at her waiting to be told to someone.

“You remember how we’d all promised we’d go to prom together someday?”

Kel’s brow furrowed. “Not really, but my memories of everyone are getting fuzzy…” There was a painful sadness cutting through his words as he said them.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t a big moment or anything. We were just at Gino’s joking around about it once, after a group of teenagers dressed for prom came in.” She paused. “You said you wanted to bring your dog.”

“Oh yeah…” said Kel with the slight twitch of a smile. “I remember that now. Mari was teasing Hero about taking her someday, and Sunny agreed with me that it would be nice if all of us could go together as friends.” Sighing, Kel paused—something bittersweet passing over his eyes. “You’re sad you couldn’t go with them, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t really a question.

Aubrey sniffled and nodded, and Kel cut her off reaching out to her. “Oh Aubrey, I…”

“It’s not just that. I was actually planning on going. I wanted to go. I bought a dress and everything. I knew it was going to be a hard day, but I was determined to do this. I knew they wouldn’t want me to miss out—would’ve wanted to me to go, even if I was sad they couldn’t be there with me.” Her voice cracked, and Kel nodded solemnly, understandingly.

“But…but…” she stumbled over her words as her eyes burned. “I was out of hairspray and knew I needed some for tonight, so I was riding my bike down to The Other Mart, and I saw there was a group of kids in the park and…” The tears started to pool in Aubrey’s eyes, and she took a deep, shaky breath, barely managing to choke out, “They were making flower crowns…”

She swiped at the tears that began to splash down her cheeks as she stumbled in the bits and pieces of sentences she could manage despite the panging ache in her chest, “I just—I just froze. I…I couldn’t stop thinking about…I turned around and came straight home and I just haven’t been able to stop crying…” She sniffled, wiping her eyes. “I know it’s so silly…to let something like that ruin my whole day, especially when it’s the prom, but I just started thinking about them and how they never got to go to prom and all the things they never got to do and will never get to do and…” Her voice trailed, as her words got choked by a sob in the back of her throat.

“I know,” sighed Kel quietly, giving her a reassuring pat on the back and pulling her into a hug. Aubrey took a few deep shaky breaths as she pressed her chin to Kel’s shoulder.

“It’s so stupid…” she mumbled, angry with herself as she pulled away from him.

“It’s not stupid at all.” He sighed heavily. “You know the other day I was supposed to be picking up a couple of groceries for my mom, and I was in that aisle in The Other Mart where they keep all the soups and sauces and stuff, and there was this lady there with her kids and the one kid dropped this big jar of spaghetti sauce—made a huge mess”—he paused as his breath hitched—”And I remembered that time we all tried to make spaghetti to surprise Hero, and I dropped the jar on the counter and the sauce splattered everywhere—it got in Basil’s hair and… Sunny was blinking at me with sauce all over his face and you were so mad but Mari just laughed…” He paused, swallowing hard. “It was like I couldn’t breathe. I ran out of there—totally forgot about the groceries.”

“Kel…” Aubrey began as she hugged him more tightly.

“I guess the moral of the story is neither one of us should be going shopping at the Other Mart, huh?” Kel chuckled lightly, but he sniffled and Aubrey could feel his shoulders trembling like he was trying not to cry.

They just sat there holding each other for a long time. No words were spoken, but they didn’t have to be. They understood—shared this pain of being the ones left behind. Kel sniffled, and Aubrey wondered if he was crying. It wouldn’t be the first time he had cried in front of her, and she knew—they both probably knew—that it wouldn’t be the last.

“You know, sometimes I think, I’m okay,” Kel managed in a wavering voice. “I still miss them, of course, but I’m not going to just start crying in the grocery store…but then…something like that happens and I just…I don’t know if I’m ever going to be okay. Like there was this whole life that I had before, but it’s all over and now I have this new life and even if things get better and it doesn’t hurt as much all the time, that sadness is always going to be there. There’s always going to be something missing, and I’m never going to not miss them.”

Aubrey sniffled and pulled away from him to look in his face, but that deep, indescribable pain in his misty eyes made her forget her words. She supposed it didn’t really matter. There was nothing she could possibly say that would make him feel better—she knew that better than anyone.

“Sorry,” he said hurriedly as he wiped his tears away. “I didn’t mean to make this about me. I feel really bad for dumping all that on you, especially when you were already upset.”

“No. I’m…I’m glad you told me, Kel,” she said hugging him again. “It’s…nice to know I’m not the only one…”

“You’re definitely not the only one—but it really does feel like you and me against the world sometimes, right?”

A kind, bittersweet smile pulled at the corners of Aubrey’s mouth as Kel wrapped an arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Sometimes.”

“Hero too, but…” Kel paused, fidgeting. Aubrey nodded in understanding. He didn’t have to explain. She knew Hero worried especially about his younger brother which made it more difficult to open up to him about all of this sometimes, plus he was away at school and neither one of them wanted to bother him, especially when he was suffering a lot on his own.

“He missed his prom, too, didn’t he?” asked Aubrey quietly, changing the subject. Kel hummed, and she could feel him nod in response.

“But it’s overrated anyway…”

*-*-*

Kel was probably right, and the prom was overrated. That didn’t mean that she didn’t have the occasional regret about not going to hers, however. It wasn’t something she ever really talked about, but if she didn’t know better she would have thought that the fact she had skipped out on hers was part of the reason that Kel had invited her over tonight for the “prom” he and Hero had been putting together to surprise their younger sister, Sally.

Even though Sally was far too young to go to a prom, she was fairly vocal about the fact that she desperately wanted to. Though Aubrey thought it was a little odd to throw a prom for a little kid, she supposed there was no harm to it, and it was sweet that Hero and Kel were always trying to do such nice things for their little sister. She had also offered to help put it all together though she reminded Kel that she had never actually been to a prom so what would she possibly know about it? He said it wasn’t anything too fancy, but still insisted they should all dress up nicely. Just luckily Aubrey had had her unused prom dress from her own senior prom still hanging up in the back of her closet collecting dust. She supposed it was nice to finally get the chance to wear it, even if that meant getting stuck in stop-and-go traffic for half an hour.

Aubrey sighed. There was never any traffic on the way to prom in the movies. The people just got into their car—or their limo—and whipped right to the school without another car on the road. It was more than little unfair. Though she supposed she should know better than thinking of movies, especially teen rom coms, as real life.

*-*-*

“Okay, okay. I know we watch this movie every year, but I still don’t understand: can everybody at this school afford a limo? And where do the limos go when they’re all at prom?” asked Kel between bites of what had to be his third or fourth piece of birthday cake. Hero had been apologizing profusely for the fact it was store bought this year, but they understood he was extremely busy in medical school. They tried to reassure him that Mari would understand too, but Aubrey wasn’t sure if he had believed them. “How do all the limos even fit in the parking lot?”

“I don’t know, Kel,” Aubrey sighed, setting her piece of cake on the coffee table. “Just don’t think about it too much.”

“Listen, I went to prom—well part of it, and nobody came in a limo. Nobody,” Kel insisted forcefully, gesturing emphatically at her with his fork and flinging cake and frosting onto her face.

Aubrey huffed. “Kel!”

“Oh, you’ve got something on your nose,” he teased before playing poking at it with his finger.

“Here’s some napkins,” said Hero, handing her a stack of napkins with that said ‘Happy Birthday’ surrounded by balloons.

“Thank you.” Aubrey nodded at Hero then rolled her eyes at Kel shaking her head, but his attention was transfixed on the movie again, probably still wondering about the limos.

Aubrey sighed. Every year they watched Mari’s favorite movie for her birthday, and every year Kel found something else about it that didn’t make sense to him. Last year, it was how nobody in the school had worn anything even close to the same outfit. The year before that it was how the main character who was supposed to be smart hadn’t ever questioned her love interest’s obviously complicated motivations in asking her to the prom in the first place. This year it was the limos.

Aubrey sometimes wondered if Kel had only started this tradition of chattering away during the movie in the hopes that it would keep her and Hero’s spirits up and prevent them from being too sad that Mari wasn’t there to celebrate her birthday with them. But other times—like now, when she watched him pick up his piece of cake with his hands and shove it into his mouth as the icing squished into his face, she thought it was probably more likely that it was just Kel being Kel.

A smile tugged her lips in spite of herself, but she pushed the thought away. She’d never admit that she was glad Kel was around to ask dumb questions about the movie, and as she watched the small smile in the corners of Hero’s mouth, she was sure he felt the same way.

When the credits began to roll, Hero started cleaning up the cake, plates, and napkins, and Kel started prattling away again. “Why do movies make prom into such a big deal, anyway? They act like it’s the most important thing that will ever happen to you.”

“Well…” Hero sighed, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. “I think they need a climatic moment for the story, and when the characters are teenagers, they can’t have a wedding or something like that so they use the prom.”

“It’s really not as cool as all that though. I was honestly kind of let down.” Kel’s mouth curved into a teasing, lopsided grin before he chuckled, seemingly getting distracted once again by his cake. “This cake was great, by the way!”

“You can thank Aubrey for that. She picked it up from Nona’s.”

Aubrey shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I was in there anyway.” She stopped, not quite ready to admit that she was in that bakery a lot. It was one of her favorite places in their college town, and she liked to treat herself with a pastry every now and again after exams, if she did well on them of course.

“Sorry I couldn’t make one this year…” Hero apologized again with red, apologetic cheeks. “Neuroanatomy is just kicking my tushie.”

Aubrey and Kel broke into raucous laughter. “Your tushie? Really, Hero?” teased Kel.  

“What are you—five?” Aubrey bantered.

“You know what I mean,” sighed Hero. Though his cheeks were flushed, he was smiling in spite of himself. “Medical school is hard.” He sighed again. “I’m sure Aubrey understands being in nursing and all.”

“I’m glad I’m going to be a nurse and not a doctor—there’s too much memorizing. I’m not smart enough for that.”

“Don’t say that, Aubrey,” chimed Kel. “You and Hero are both super smart—you know all kinds of medical stuff. I could never do what you do.”

“Well I’m sure neither of us could ever do what you do either, Kel,” Aubrey insisted, and Hero nodded in agreement. “You can fix anything, and I wouldn’t even know what to do with a welding torch if my life depended on it.”

Kel chuckled his face brightening. “I can show you sometime if you want. It’s really not that hard.”

“Says the ‘Welder of the Year,’” bantered Aubrey.  

“It was only ‘of the month,’ and…”  

“I still have the newsletter hanging up on our refrigerator,” interjected Hero with a proud smile. Kel scratched the back of his neck as his face flushed.

“You can take that down, you know? It’s really not that big of a deal…” He sighed. “I only fix engines and stuff. I don’t save lives or anything like you guys.”

Aubrey sighed, shaking her head. “I’ve never saved a life.”

“I’ve barely even left my classroom,” said Hero. “So you’ve at least got one up on me. You’re in clinicals now, aren’t you?”

Aubrey nodded. “Yeah. I’m trying to get a job as a student nurse too. I just interviewed in behavioral health and psychiatry.”

She stopped abruptly as Kel and Hero’s eyes widened, a certain sadness in them that Aubrey had used to see all the time but which hadn’t been in their expressions in a while. A silence spread through the room, and Aubrey sighed, wishing she hadn’t mentioned it. She was about to apologize for bringing it up and ruining the mood of everyone’s evening, but then she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders and a gentle hand patting her back.

“That’s great, Aubrey,” said Kel with a kind smile and soft expression. “I hope you get it and help a lot of people.”

“Me too,” said Hero. “I think you’ll be great at that.”

“Thanks,” Aubrey mumbled, her face feeling suddenly warm.

“Well, I think this deserves a toast.” Kel stood up from his seat and poured some cups of coffee from the coffee maker for them.

Aubrey quirked an eyebrow at him. “We’re toasting coffee?”

“Yes,” he answered, completely unphased as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He held up his coffee cup. “To Aubrey, soon to be ‘World’s Greatest Nurse.’”

He winked at her, and Aubrey shook her head but bantered, holding up her own cup, “And to Kel—Welder of the Year,”

“Would you stop it with that?” he teased under his breath as a flush of red filled his cheeks. He shook his head and turned to Hero. “And to Hero—who can do anything!”

“And everything,” added Aubrey as Hero turned away from them blushing a bright red.

“You guys…” he mumbled.

“And let’s toast Mari too,” said Kel. “Happy Birthday, Mari!”

“Happy Birthday, Mari,” Hero and Aubrey replied with kind, bittersweet smiles.

As they took sips of their coffee, Aubrey’s lips puckered, and her face contorted as she resisted the urge to spit hers out. Even Hero grimaced.

“What in the world is this, Kel?” She reached for her water to try to rinse out the taste.

“Oh you’re never gonna believe it, but Orange Joe makes ground coffee now.”

“Why?” groaned Aubrey.

“You really should warn us first,” Hero quipped dryly with a slight smile, but Kel just shrugged.

“What? I thought it was pretty good.”

“I don’t know how you drink this garbage. It tastes like rotten oranges,” Aubrey bantered. “It would’ve been better if we toasted with broccoli juice or something.”

“I have some soda in the pantry. Let’s just use that.” Hero, always the peace-maker, got up from his seat and made his way to the kitchen with a gentle smile. Once he was gone, Kel finished off his cup of coffee and turned to her with a soft expression in his eyes.

“Hey Aubrey?”

“Yeah?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

“I think it’s really great that you want to be a psych nurse and everything.”

Aubrey sighed. “I don’t know if it’ll work out, Kel. I mean I just interviewed so…”

“It’ll work out,” he cut her off with a reassuring smile. “I know it will, and when it does, I know you’re gonna be great. I…”—he paused and glanced away from her—"I think you’re really great—at everything.”

Aubrey’s cheeks grew warm from the compliment. “Thank you, Kel. I think you’re—”

She didn’t get to finish that thought, however, as Kel wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into an unexpected but welcomed hug. Aubrey pressed her chin to his shoulder and gave him a pat on the back. She waited for him to let go of her, but he held her far longer than usual.

Finally, he whispered so quietly she almost couldn’t hear him. “Do a good job, okay? For all of us…”

Aubrey nodded. She contemplated pulling away from him, but he ran his hand through the ends of her long hair mumbling, “And Aubrey…Uh…I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” she shivered, in spite of herself.

“Uh…” he began again, and she could feel his hands begin to shake as they gently held onto her.

“Do you want diet or regular? I also have a few cherry—” Hero’s voice stopped abruptly. “Oh sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Kel and Aubrey quickly pulled away from each other. Aubrey could only hope she wasn’t blushing as much as she feared. Her cheeks burned, but she and Kel hurriedly talked over each other, reassuring Hero it was fine, and he wasn’t interrupting anything. Aubrey’s head reeled, but Kel seemed completely unphased, politely declining Hero’s soda and pouring himself another cup of Orange Joe.

As Kel stood up from his seat beside her on the sofa, Aubrey could have sworn that Hero shot her a knowing, somewhat teasing smile that made her stomach twist. She bit her lip and tried her best to push the thought away—nervously, reaching for her coffee cup in an attempt at nonchalance and unfortunately failing to remembered it was still full of Orange Joe until she had actually taken a sip. Aubrey grimaced at the bitter taste, but her cheeks burned as she watched Hero’s mouth twitched in the corners at her.

*-*-*

Aubrey wished she could say that was the last time she ever accidentally tried Orange Joe. It wasn’t, but both her and Hero did get much better at predicting whether or not Kel was trying to pawn the drink off onto them. It had a distinctively putrid citrusy odor that, eventually, made it much easier to identify. If she knew Kel, there would probably be a whole pitcher full of it at the “prom” he was putting together even though Hero had insisted multiple times that Sally was much too young for coffee.

It was nice to hear that Hero was going to get to come tonight, too. He had been so busy with his residency that they didn’t get to see too much of them these days. Even Kel who was his roommate said he was lucky if he occasionally managed to catch Hero as he was heading to the hospital when Kel himself was getting home from his third shift at the manufacturing plant where he worked. Hero promised them that he was happy, just very busy, and they respected his need for rest, even if it was starting to feel a little bit like her and Kel against the world again.

That reminded her, she ought to give him a call about the traffic—letting him know she was going to be late.

“Hey Kel,” she began, but his voice, muffled and staticky from what Aubrey presumed was a bad connection, cut her off.

“Hi Aubrey. What’s up?”

“Well, I’m on my way, but I’m stuck in traffic. You would not believe how many cars are out here right now.” Aubrey sighed wearily. “On their way to prom probably”

“Have you seen any limos?”

Aubrey laughed. “No, Kel. No limos. I really don’t think we even have those in Faraway Town.”

“That’s probably true.” He chuckled before changing the subject. “It’s no big deal if you’re late or anything. Just drive safely, and you can let yourself in through the fence to the backyard.”

“Oh, are you having it outside?”

Kel hummed. “Yeah, it was such a nice night that I thought it would be fun to dance out on the porch and stuff. I’ve been practicing my dancing, and I think I’m a lot better than the last time you danced with me so…”

Aubrey’s face grew suddenly hot, but she took a deep breath, trying and failing not to think of the last night Kel had danced with her…

*-*-*

“Okay, explain to me again how you came to win dancing lessons?” quipped Aubrey, quirking an eyebrow at Kel, but he merely shrugged at her.

“Well I bought a bunch of raffle tickets because I wanted this ceramic chicken.” He paused before adding hurriedly with a sheepish smile, “And, you know, to support the hospital and everything too.”

Aubrey sighed and shook her head, but Kel didn’t seem to notice. It was very nice of Kel to come with her to her hospital’s charity benefit. They were raising money to build a new wing which would mean more beds in the juvenile behavioral health ward where she worked as a nurse. She had told Kel that the gala was mostly for the really big donors, and she was just inviting him for his company so he shouldn’t feel obligated to donate anything. Even so, it was sweet of him to try to buy some raffle tickets for some of the less expensive items.

A smile twitched in the corners of her mouth. It was just like Kel to do something thoughtful like that—especially for a dumb reason like wanting a ceramic chicken he could probably buy for himself half-as-cheap at a local home goods store.

“I was going to put all the tickets in the drawing for the basket with the chicken,” Kel prattled on. “But then some of the other people were giving me these weird looks, so I started to put them in the drawing for some of the other raffle baskets too, and I guess I won the one with the dancing lessons.” With a slight shrug of his shoulders, Kel frowned disappointedly. “Didn’t win the chicken though. I was pretty bummed about that.”

“What would you even do with a ceramic chicken?” Aubrey teased dryly.

“I don’t know, but I’d probably get more use out of it than dance lessons.”

A chuckle escaped Aubrey’s mouth as she barely stifled a laugh—turning back to the stove where she was frying some potatoes as they waited for the lasagna they were making for dinner to be finished cooking in the oven. It wouldn’t be nearly as good as Hero’s, but he was far too busy with his residency to cook for even himself these days. They were making this meal to surprise him when he got home and to celebrate his first weekend off in months.

“Do you want to take them with me?” asked Kel as he absent-mindedly stirred the pudding they were making for dessert.

Aubrey tilted her head at him. “The dance lessons?”

“Yeah. It’s for two people, and I didn’t really know who else to bring.”

“What about Hero?” She didn’t realize how silly that suggestion sounded until Kel laughed.

“Hero is a great dancer already, and he’s super busy right now anyway.”

With a conceding shrug of her shoulders, Aubrey sighed. “Isn’t there someone else you’d rather bring, Kel?”

“Nope,” he replied immediately, clearly not understanding the meaning behind her words. “Why would there be?”

“Well…you know…some people think that dancing can have a more romantic connotation, so I was just thinking that if you were interested in someone you might want to bring…” Her voice trailed as she tilted her head confused and inquisitively at the unreadable expression on Kel’s face.

“Oh…uh…well…” Kel chuckled though he rubbed his hand sheepishly across the back of his neck. “Actually, I’d rather take you, but if you don’t want to come, you can just say...”

“It’s fine, Kel.” With a shrug, Aubrey stared down at the potatoes, put the lid over the pan, and turned the stove down to low heat so they could simmer. Her mouth twitched into a bantering smile. “I just meant, you should probably be careful going around asking other girls to go dancing with you. They might get the wrong idea.”

“Is it really that much of a romantic thing?” asked Kel blinking at her.

Aubrey shrugged again. “It is in the movies.”

“But that’s just the movies. They make everything romantic, especially when it doesn’t have to be. Like how they always make it seem like prom is the best night of your life or when the couple dances together there one time, they’re suddenly desperately in love forever.” Kel laughed, but Aubrey frowned.

“I didn’t mean it like—” She huffed, shaking her head. “And what would you know about prom anyway, you barely even went to ours?”

“I went to enough of it to know that it wasn’t super magical or anything, and yeah, I danced with a few girls, but it’s not like I’m just pining for them forever now.” Kel paused, chuckling to himself, and Aubrey’s face flushed but her brow furrowed. Was he making fun of her?

“That’s not the same thing. For some girls it’s different. They romanticize it in their heads”—she sighed—“not me but…”

“That’s because you’re a cynic,” teased Kel.

“And you’re a moron—especially if you think that another girl wouldn’t take your invitation to dancing lessons in a romantic way.”

Kel just shrugged and admitted, “I don’t get it.”

“Well…what if you had danced with that girl, the one you actually wanted to take as your prom date? Don’t you think that would’ve been special?”

“I didn’t get to dance with her—ever actually, but I don’t think it would’ve changed anything. A dance is just dance, isn’t it?” He tilted his head as a bantering smile tugged at his lips. “You’re acting like if I just started dancing with you right now, you’d—?”

“K—Kel?” Aubrey’s breath hitched as he slipped his arms around her waist. “What are you doing?”

“Proving a point,” he insisted with a shrug.

Aubrey huffed. “There isn’t even any music.”

“Oh.” Kel absentmindedly tilted his head before pulling out his phone, presumably choosing a song to play. As the song’s intro began to play, he set his phone on the counter and held out his hand to her.

“Can I have this dance?” he asked with a playfully melodramatic bow, and Aubrey sighed with a somewhat affectionate roll of her eyes.

“Fine,” she sighed. “Whatever will get you to focus on cooking again.”

Kel smiled brightly as he wrapped his arms around her waist again. As he met her eyes, she looked away abruptly—clearing her throat as she snaked her arms around his neck. He was so close to her. Her cheeks felt warm, and she swallowed hard, pushing the thought away. ‘It’s just Kel,’ she reminded herself.

He began swaying—Aubrey shook her head—off tempo with the music. “You really can use those dance lessons,” she teased though there was a certain, uncharacteristic shakiness that seeped into her words. She pursed her lips and mentally kicked herself. What was wrong with her all of a sudden?

She could almost feel Kel’s chuckle reverberating in his chest. “Yeah, well I guess it’s good I won them then.” He smiled at her, and as he met her eyes, Aubrey shuddered in spite of herself.

Kel pulled her closer to him—almost pressing his cheek against hers and began to quietly sing along to the music. Aubrey’s face flushed. Knowing Kel he probably wasn’t even aware that he was singing, but she could feel his warm breath, those affectionate words almost whispered in her ear. For the life of her she couldn’t even begin to guess why Kel had picked what was probably one of the most romantic songs in the universe. The slow crooning of the melody alone screamed romance, but there was so much devotion, so much longing in the lyrics—and to hear them in Kel’s voice... Aubrey inhaled sharply—hoping her face wasn’t nearly as red as she feared.

“How”—her voice hitched, and she pulled away from him—“How do you even know this song?”

Kel just shrugged. “Hero showed it to me. He likes all those old songs, you know? And I thought it would be good for this.” He paused. “Why? Do you like it?”

“It’s fine,” shrugged Aubrey though she found she couldn’t look at Kel for some reason.

When she finally met his gaze again, there was something so warm, so gentle in his expression, and his dark eyes seemed to glisten with an emotion that she couldn’t begin to describe but which made her heart pound all the same. He lifted his hand from her waist and gently pressed his palm to her cheek.

“If this was a movie, this is probably the point when I’d say something corny like…” Kel paused, blinking at her with heavy-lidded eyes before he continued with a gentle sincerity that made her breath catch in her throat, ”‘You are so beautiful.’” He stroked her cheek with his thumb, and as his eyes fluttered closed, he sighed, “‘I’ve wanted this for a long time.’”

Aubrey swallowed hard. She tried to frown even though she was sure her face was bright red from that…that pining underscoring his voice. ‘This is just a game,’ she reminded herself—one that Kel seemed to be getting extremely into, but a game all the same. Still... the way his voice faltered, the earnestness in his eyes made it easy to forget.

“You’ve been watching too many romance movies with Hero…” she quipped, but her voice wavered.

Kel chuckled lightly. “Maybe…”

His hand softly stroked the side of her cheek until the tips of his long fingers began to tangle in her hair. She shivered as she took a long, shaky breath. His lips parted slightly as his mouth relaxed. She bit her lip and watched as Kel did the same.

“Aubrey…” he whispered as she tangled her trembling hand in the hair at the nape of his neck and gently pulled him towards her in slow, deliberate movements that didn’t feel like her own. His long, dark eyelashes fluttered. He was close enough to her now that she could almost feel them against her skin.

Her heart pounded. Her hands shook. He hovered in front of her mere inches away from her face. When he whispered her name again, she realized they had stopped dancing.

As Kel’s eyes fluttered closed, he tilted his head and cupped her face with his hands. His breath was warm against her skin, so close Aubrey could almost taste the coffee and citrus lingering from that awful Orange Joe he loved so much. As she began to lean closer to him, her hand curled around the unruly strands of his hair, and she pressed her palm to the back of his head—pulling him in. Closer. Closer.

He began to lean forward. That space between them was almost non-existent now. Aubrey froze—unable to move, unable to breath. Her heartbeat raced, and she could almost feel Kel’s heart pounding as he stopped, a breath away from her. She gripped the soft fabric of his shirt and shut her eyes tightly. Waiting. Waiting until…

BEEP! BEEP! The sound of the oven timer rang through the living room. Aubrey exhaled deeply though her cheeks flushed. What had just happened?

Kel startled, pulling away from her abruptly. “Oh! The lasagna!” he exclaimed with a bright smile, seemingly, completely unphased by what had just happened, by the fact that they had almost…

Aubrey inhaled sharply, then took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. She bit down hard on her lip. It was just a game to him. Of course it was.

“Alright fine, Kel…” she laughed it off with as much of a frown as she could muster as the music stopped. Her racing heartbeat and wavering tone of voice didn’t seemed to get the memo, however. “You’re right.”

His face beamed. “Seriously?” He chuckled, playfully poking her in the arm. “See, I told you that you didn’t miss out on anything at the prom.”

Aubrey sighed—willing that blush she could still feel in her face away. “Yeah… It’s just a dance—nothing necessarily romantic about that. But you know I agreed with you from the beginning, right? So don’t get too excited about it. I just meant a lot of other girls might get the wrong impression.” ‘Especially if you dance with them like that,’ she mentally added, barely managing to stop herself before the words tumbled out of her mouth.

“Yeah, alright. You know, honestly, I actually kinda see your point now too.” Kel tilted his head and chuckled breathily though his expression was unreadable. Aubrey’s heart raced in spite of herself as she tried to push these thoughts, these feelings, whatever they were away for good.

*-*-*

Aubrey let out a long and heavy sigh. She could feel the blush in her cheeks even now just thinking about it. She hadn’t done a very good job of pushing the memory away. Even though they had never talked about that dance, about that almost-kiss ever again, Aubrey had mulled it over in her mind more times than she could count, until she could almost believe that she had been imagining things, that she had just gotten caught up in the music and dancing and that nothing had actually almost happened. But…—Aubrey sighed—the way he had looked at her…

She swallowed hard and pushed the thought away. This was Kel. Kel—dopey, happy-go-lucky Kel who used to eat spray cheese directly out of the can until she and Hero staged an intervention to ask him to stop and who once got a popsicle stick stuck up his nose because he wanted to see if he could touch his brain with it. Granted he was seven at the time, but still… this was Kel, and Kel was…was…

Aubrey sighed. Kel was sweet and thoughtful. He’d do anything to make his friends and family happy, and he loved making people laugh. He could make friends anywhere he went, and he always found things to smile about. And yeah, he could be awkward sometimes, airheaded, oblivious, and occasionally stubborn, but he had a big heart and even if his words didn’t always come out the way he wanted them to, she never doubted how much he cared. He was a great friend—her best friend, probably if she was being honest, but she wasn’t about to waste another minute of her life sitting around analyzing whether she may or may not have almost kissed him once. And she especially wasn’t going to sit around analyzing whether or not she should have or, worst of all, whether she had wanted to.

“You will dance with me again, won’t you?” asked Kel’s voice through the phone. “I gave those dancing lessons to my parents as a gift, but Hero was helping me practice a little bit, so I think I’ve gotten a lot better.”

“Uh…yeah…sure Kel…” stumbled Aubrey trying her best not to think anything of it.

“Okay, great! I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you soon, okay? Bye.”

“…Bye…” mumbled Aubrey. She let out a long and heavy sigh, shaking her head and mentally kicking herself for getting so flustered about Kel of all people. It was nothing, clearly…given the way he could mention it so nonchalantly like that. She should just stop thinking about it and worrying that it was something that it wasn’t.

She pushed the thought away—trying her best to think about something else, anything else. What was everyone going to wear tonight? Sally would probably look adorable all dressed up in party dress or a costume if she wanted to be an actual princess—though Aubrey supposed Kel had specifically used the word “prom” rather than “ball” so Sally might not want a princess dress. Would Kel and Hero go all out and rent tuxes or just wear nice suits? Maybe Kel would bring back that bright pink tie from their prom…

Aubrey stopped. That tie. She hadn’t thought about it in years until it got brought up a couple of weeks ago when she and Kel were going shopping at the outlet mall with Sally.

*-*-*

“They’re so pretty,” Sally sighed wistfully with a little twirl as they passed some of the clothing racks filled with sparkly prom dresses. “I can’t wait ‘til I’m old enough to go to the prom.” She giggled and squeezed Aubrey’s hand. “What was it like? Did you get to wear a pretty dress like that, Aubbie?”

Aubrey smiled. Sally had given her that nickname years ago when she was a little toddler who struggled with her “r”s, and it made it happy to think that it had somehow stuck all these years. Her smile quickly faded however, as she awkwardly replied, “Well…Sally…I didn’t actually go to my prom.”

“Oh…” Sally’s eyes widened sadly, and she tilted her head. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she reassured her, giving her a gentle smile and a reassuring pat on the head. “Your brother went though—to part of it. He wore this bright pink tie.”

Kel laughed and playfully poked her in the arm. “You remember my tie?”

Aubrey’s face flushed, but she bantered. “It was kind of hard to forget. Why’d you pick a color like that anyway?”

“Oh uh…” Chuckling, he scratched the back of his neck. “I never told you?”

“No…” Aubrey quirked an eyebrow at him, but Sally giggled.

“I wanna hear about it.”

“Well, okay, just for you Sally,” Kel’s expression softened, but he shrugged his shoulders. “But I’m warning you, it’s…kind of silly now that I’m thinking about it…” He sighed. “There was this girl…She was really amazing. I wanted to ask her to prom, but I was really afraid she would say ‘no’ so I kind of chickened out. But she really liked pink so…I thought maybe she’d like that pink tie. Kind of silly, right?” He laughed it off, but his cheeks flushed.

“Did she like it?” asked Sally, curiously blinking up at her older brother.

Kel’s mouth curved into a smile, and—Aubrey blushed—she could have almost sworn he glanced over at her when he said, “Yeah. I think she did…”

“You know, you never told me—that girl, did she go with someone else?” The question slipped out before Aubrey could stop it. She had spent years wondering, worrying if she had ruined Kel’s prom with her own problems or if he was nursing a broken heart of his own that had nothing to do with her grief. It was probably selfish to be bringing it up now after all these years, but she couldn’t give up the opportunity to find out for sure if Kel would have left the prom early anyway, even if she had been there.

“Nope,” Kel shook his head with a sigh, and Aubrey swallowed hard.

“Did you get to dance with her, then?”

A smile twitched in the corners of Kel’s mouth—something unreadable but undeniably affectionate flashing across his eyes. “Eventually…”

“Was she a good dancer?” giggled Sally.

“Better than me.” Kel shrugged, but he reached out to take Sally’s hand and gave his sister a little twirl. “But I am getting better.”

He flashed Aubrey a teasing smile, and she shook her head at him as she stifled a laugh. She knew it was a sign that this conversation was over, but it nagged at the back of her brain for the rest of the day as they absentmindedly wandered from store to store, eventually stopping for soft pretzels at the food court and surprising Sally with a bright yellow bow for her hair. There was no more talk of prom.

When it started storming, they decided to call it a day and headed back to Faraway Town. It wasn’t long before Sally fell asleep in the back seat of her car, exhausted from the long and exciting day of shopping. Aubrey dreaded the silence left by the absence of Sally and Kel’s cheerful prattling, but she was grateful for the opportunity to focus on driving rather than on mulling Kel’s words over in her head. That guilt she had been feeling ever since he had had to skip out on their prom on her account was suddenly fresh again, gnawing at her, getting harder and harder to push away.

“Hey…uh…Aubrey? Are you okay?” asked Kel quietly enough so as not to wake up the napping Sally. “You’ve been kind of quiet…”

“Well Sally’s asleep Kel,” she replied with a tilt of her head as she glanced in her rearview mirror.

“Yeah, but I meant before that…Ever since we were in that department store…”

Aubrey took a deep breath and tried to muster a, “Yeah…I’m just…”

She stopped abruptly. Even if she didn’t take her eyes off the road, she could almost picture Kel’s reassuring smile, encouraging her that she could tell him anything. Maybe it would be best to ask him now when she didn’t have to look in his face...

Before she could decide, however, she pulled into the driveway of Kel’s parents’ house. Grabbing a nearby umbrella, Kel got out of the car and gently lifted a sleeping Sally, draping his jacket over her head so her face wouldn’t get wet from his attempts to carry her and the umbrella.

Kel fidgeted until he was shielding Sally completely with the umbrella, getting himself soaked in the process. Aubrey sighed and shook her head with a somewhat affectionate smile. He was going to be sopping wet by the time he got back to the car, but if Aubrey was being honest, she didn’t mind. It was sweet how much Kel cared about his sister. Aubrey supposed that was really just Kel—he always thought about everybody else and how to make them happy. He’d give a stranger his umbrella if they needed it, even if that meant he’d get himself soaked. It was something Aubrey admired most about him.

Her face felt suddenly warm, and she pushed the thought away, watching as Kel handed Sally off to his mom on the porch. She gave Aubrey a bright smile and a cheerful wave as Kel rushed back across yard. Aubrey waved back.

Sure enough, when Kel got back inside the car, he was dripping water. He ran his hand through his sopping hair.

“Sorry, Aubrey. I’ll clean it up when you drop me off,” he insisted with a sheepish smile, but Aubrey waved her hand.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just water.”

Chuckling, Kel’s mouth twitched into a lopsided grin, and he shrugged his shoulders, “Okay, now that Sally’s inside…what’s up? Something’s bugging you.”

“I’m fine,” Aubrey said, but she knew Kel knew her too well to believe that.

He sighed, a look of concern passing over his eyes. “Are you sure? Is it something I said…?”

“No…” She bit her lip. “It’s not you. It’s just…”

“You’ll feel better if you just tell me. I know you will,” he teased with a kind smile.

Aubrey huffed. He was right, of course, but she didn’t really want to admit that.

“Why did you leave our prom?”

Kel’s brow furrowed, and his eyes widened in confusion. “What?”

“You know…was it for that girl you wanted to take but didn’t end up asking or was it for…?” She stopped and cleared her throat.

“Well…actually…” Kel stumbled, his face flushing. Aubrey sighed guiltily. She didn’t mean to fluster him like this—it wasn’t fair.

“I just…I know it’s none of my business, and I feel bad asking but I just don’t want to be reason that you had to skip out on our prom, you know? So if you left because you were heartbroken or…”

“Oh,” Kel interrupted. Clearing his throat, he rubbed his hand across the nape of his neck. “Uh…I wasn’t heartbroken or anything, but…yeah, I did leave because of that girl—the one I wanted to ask…”

Aubrey sighed. She didn’t feel as relieved to hear this as she had always imagined she would. She felt almost…sad…

“Do you regret it?” she asked quietly, staring at her hands. “Leaving her there at the prom?”

“What?”

“You know, you could’ve stayed. You didn’t have to miss out on it, especially not to just waste the whole night sitting on my porch…” She cleared her throat though she twisted her hands around the steering wheel, staring intently at the swaying windshield wipers. “Do you ever wish that…things had been different?”

“I mean…I guess sometimes, maybe, but only to wish that you had been there and that everyone had been there to come with us.” Sighing bittersweetly, Kel paused. “Why? Do you?”

Aubrey sighed, adjusting her grip on the steering wheel even though the car was still parked. “Sometimes…” she admitted. “But for the same reason as you, I guess, and…” Her voice trailed, and she could feel Kel shift next to her.

“And what?”

“I’ve just…” Her face flushed as she took a deep breath. “I always felt guilty for making you miss it. I really am sorry about that.”

Kel chuckled lightly and placed his hand on her shoulder until she turned to look at him. “Aubrey, don’t worry about it. I already told you. I wanted to spend it with you.”

His smile was warm, and the look in his eyes was so tender that Aubrey’s hands began to shake as her cheeks blushed rose. She turned away from him, and he shrugged his shoulders and admitted, “I think about that night a lot, actually…in a good way. I don’t have regrets.”

He gently pushed a piece of hair out of her face, and Aubrey shivered but not from the cold and wet of the rain on his fingers. “Aubrey, I…There’s actually…” He stopped and pulled his hand away from her abruptly as water began to drip into her face. “Oh shoot. I’m sorry,” he stumbled, panicking over the damp streaks in her hair.

“It’s okay, Kel…” Aubrey sighed—politely failing to mention that his panicking over dripping water everywhere was just spraying water and making everything wetter. “Let’s just…get you home.”

“Okay…” Kel nodded, but his face was flushed. Aubrey was sure hers was bright red. She could only hope he wouldn’t notice.

*-*-*

Taking a deep breath, Aubrey parked her car on the street in front of Kel’s house. This was probably the worst possible thing she could have been thinking of right now. Why did she do this to herself?

She sighed heavily, burying her face in her hands before she composed herself, pushing all those thoughts away. She didn’t even know where they were coming from, and even if she did, now was definitely not the time to be thinking about any of that. She could almost guarantee that Kel certainly wasn’t. There was no way he was sitting around wondering what would have happened if the timer hadn’t gone off when they were dancing or if water hadn’t started to drip into her face when he was running his hand through her hair. These were just things Kel did without thinking—it didn’t mean anything more to him than that they were just friends, so why should it mean anything more to her? And…perhaps more importantly, why would she even want it to? Why would she want affection for him that would never be returned?  

Her shoes clicked across the pavement as she made her way down the sidewalk and up the driveway to the house where Kel lived with his brother, at least until Hero finished his final year of residency and paid off enough student loans to afford his own place. There was the faint sound of music echoing from the backyard and lights shimmering from what she assumed was probably their decorated porch. As soon as she walked through the gate to the yard, however, she realized she was wrong. There was a beautiful trellis canopy covered in Christmas lights with twinkling icicle lights hanging from the ceiling—underneath it was Hero’s record player, playing classic love songs.

Aubrey froze just staring at it—how it beautiful it was. She didn’t even notice Kel until he chuckled beside her.  

“Aubrey, you made it!” He paused, his expression softening. “You look beautiful. I’m glad I finally got to see your prom dress.”

Aubrey’s face flushed, and she curled her toes in her shoes both at the compliment,  and at the fact that Kel didn’t look too shabby himself dressed in his dark suit with combed hair and shiny dress shoes. “You look nice too, Kel. I see you’re wearing that tie—” she tried to tease him, but her voice cracked. Kel, however, just chuckled lightly.

“Oh yeah…well, you know…” With a slight shrug of his shoulders, he paused fidgeting with the bright pink tie around his neck. “Do you like it?”

Aubrey somehow managed a playful roll of her eyes. “It’s great, Kel.”

“I got you this,” he exclaimed excitedly, holding out a plastic container with a corsage inside.

“Wow, thank you,” she stumbled as he helped her slip it onto her wrist. “You really did go all out, huh?”

Kel hummed and nodded enthusiastically, but Aubrey’s brow furrowed as she glanced around. “So, uh…where are Hero and Sally?”

A faint flush of rose filled Kel’s cheeks. “Oh. Uh…well…about that. They’re not here.”

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t really a lie,” he tripped over his words. “I was just trying to surprise you, but I…I didn’t do this for Sally…”

As he met her eyes, Aubrey shivered and swallowed hard. Kel chuckled sheepishly. “I knew you were kind of upset that you missed your prom, and so I thought I’d make you your own prom. Surprise!”

Aubrey looked around the yard—at the twinkling lights, the trellis, Hero’s record player, then at Kel, all dressed up in his best suit with his pink tie, the kindest look in his eyes and the brightest, beaming smile on his face.

“You...”—she inhaled sharply—“You did all this…for me?”

“Yeah…Is it overboard? I was worried it might be a little overboard.”

Aubrey could scarcely put coherent sentences together—her head was spinning. Kel…Kel had done all of this…for her…? “Why?”

“Why?” Kel repeated with wide eyes. “Well…because it’s a lot…with the music and the fancy clothes and the decorations…”

“No, uh—” she stumbled. “Why did you do this for me, Kel?”

“Oh…well I thought you were upset about our prom ever since we went to the outlet mall, and I thought maybe a ‘do-over’ prom would make you happy.”

Aubrey’s blush deepened as she stared down at her feet. “You…you really didn’t have to do this Kel. Especially since I’m the one who basically ruined your prom in the first place.”

“Aubrey…” He pressed his palm to her cheek—smiling, waiting until she finally looked up at him. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time. You didn’t ruin my prom—not at all. I wanted to spend it with you. I know I probably should’ve just asked you, but I don’t know, I was just…I had never felt so close to anybody in my whole life, and I thought you were so amazing, I didn’t know what to do with myself…” He paused, chuckling awkwardly with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.

“Wait…you…you…” she stammered trying to make sense of what she was hearing. He couldn’t have possibly just said…? “You wanted to take me to our prom? I’m the girl?”

Kel’s cheeks blushed red, but he nodded. “You’re the girl.” Aubrey could only blink at him as he chuckled lightly, awkwardly again and joked as he fidgeted with his hands, “You know…if this was a movie, this is probably the part where I’d say something really corny like ‘You’ve always been the girl.’”

As he met her eyes, Aubrey froze. His words may have been corny, but the look in his eyes was so sincere, so…affectionate. She swallowed hard—sure her face must be bright red by now, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She tried her best to take a deep breath and shakily tease him but her voice was wavering, breathy—it almost didn’t sound like her. “Yeah…that’s—that’s really corny…”

“Yeah, I’m no Hero…” Kel chuckled self-deprecatingly. “I’m really not good at any of this stuff…” He bit his lip and looked back up at her with a gaze that made her shiver. “But I really do think you’re great—probably the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I’m sorry for not saying it before.”

“Kel, I…” Her voice hitched. “I had no idea you felt this way…”

“That’s okay,” shrugged Kel. “To be honest, I didn’t even know I felt this way for a long time. It took me a while to figure it out…I was just kind of dense, I guess.” He laughed with a sheepish grin. “When I finally mentioned it to Hero, he gave me this look like ‘it’s about time…’ Then he was the one who was really encouraging me to tell you, but I just never really could figure out how and…then I was worried I was going to mess up our friendship and I didn’t want to make things awkward…But I guess this is kinda awkward, huh? All the movies make it look so easy…”

Aubrey blushed. If one of them should be feeling dense right now, it really should be her. Kel was…Was he really…?

“Listen, uh…you’re really quiet right now. You don’t have to say anything. We can just pretend that I never said anything,” he began to ramble quickly, nervously. “I didn’t want to put you on the spot, I just—I thought that was something you should probably know about me, er, about you, er how I feel about you because I—I really like you and I think you are really great and if you ever talk to me again after this, I would really like to take you to dinner and…”

Aubrey could only blink at him, unable to get a word in edgewise as he let out a long heavy sigh. “And I am totally messing this up…” Sighing heavily again, he ran his hand through his hair, before he met her eyes. “Aubrey…I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be…” Aubrey interrupted, reaching up to stroke Kel’s cheek with her hand. “I know it’s not an easy thing to say…”

“No, but you don’t understand. I tried to practice and everything. I was going to say all kinds of really nice stuff like that you’re probably the most important person in the world to me, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. After Mari and Sunny and Basil…”—his voice hitched—”Things were so dark and so sad…it was probably one of the worst times in my life, and I felt so alone, but then, you found me…and you showed me that even if this world without them is always going to be a little sadder than it was, that doesn’t mean that there aren’t still good things in it too. And a lot of those good things were because of you—when we tease each other and we’re throwing popcorn at each other or I’m wiping frosting on your nose or splashing water at you at the beach—when we laugh about corny movies or dance in the kitchen or when we just talk for hours and completely forget about the time…or when your face turns all red when you’re trying not to smile or the way your nose wrinkles when you laugh. And you”—he cupped her face in his hands—“You’re the best thing.”

“Kel—I…I…” Aubrey began to trip over her words, unsure what she even wanted to say.

Kel sighed, his face blushing red as he pulled his hands away from her, and mumbled, “I don’t even know if that makes sense…”

“No, it…it does,” Aubrey said with a reassuring smile. “I…I completely…” She stopped. “Back then, I…I never thought I could ever be happy again, but you showed me I could be, that there’s still…happiness…” Her voice trailed, but Kel wrapped his arms around her and pulled into a tight hug.  

“Aubrey…I’m…I’m so glad…I…”—Kel’s voice hitched—“I just want you to be happy. I want you to be so, so happy. I just never thought I’d ever be lucky enough that you could be happy with me.”

“I am happy, Kel,” Aubrey whispered, unable to think, unable to breath. Something she couldn’t even begin to describe seemed to propel her forward—her whole body almost moving on its own as she pulled back from him just enough to close her eyes and brush her lips against his.

“A—Aubrey?” stumbled Kel with a look more akin to having been whacked on the back of the head rather than kissed.

“Kel, uh…sorry…” she began staring off over his shoulder. “I just um…”

“No, I’m sorry, I just…I wasn’t ready.” Aubrey’s eyes widened, but Kel hurriedly added, “Ready as in prepared not as in ready like I—I didn’t want…because I—I do…”

A playful smile tugged at Aubrey’s lips, but she was blushing too much to actually tease him.

“I—I…” Kel began to stumble again, and Aubrey could have sworn she heard him mumble, “Oh forget it…” under his breath before he finally just threw his arms around her neck and kissed her. His hands tangled in her hair as hers gripped the collar of his suit pulling him even closer to her. She could taste that sickeningly sweet Orange Joe on his breath, but she didn’t even care.

When they finally broke apart from each other, red-faced and breathless. Kel chuckled teasingly, “I guess I should probably ask you to dance now, huh?”

As that familiar song began to play, Kel wrapped his arms around her, and Aubrey slipped her hands around his neck. They swayed in time to the music, and neither one of them could hold back their smiles.

As Aubrey nestled into Kel’s chest, she could feel him chuckling lightly to himself.

“What?” she asked quietly.  

“Nothing it’s just…” Kel pulled away just enough to look at her and meet her eyes as his mouth twitched into a soft, playful smile. “Maybe it really is true what everyone says about prom after all…”

[ecreau]

Better days are coming.

We are our own little fighters. Soon, things will be brighter. You’ve worked hard enough to keep pushing through; do not give up.

-

Do things get better? I would say, yes.

A few years ago, I could not imagine myself posting more drawings and creating simple gifs. I was too harsh on myself, especially regarding my drawing and design skills. I often got sad and didn’t finish what I started. Fast forward to today, and I am happy with my progress. There are still things that need improvement, but I am okay with slowly learning and giving myself a pat on the back for doing great.

Another thing is moving on from anything—love, friendship, work, and any life experiences. A few years ago, I fought for any connection, whether it was hurting me or not because I was afraid of losing. Now, I’d rather lose a connection and burn bridges if it’s affecting my mental health because I know I have people who genuinely care about me. I would end my story by adding this quote I saw.

“When a chapter unexpectedly closes in our lives, always trust and believe that there is something better right around the corner.”

A gentle reminder, better days are coming.

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I finally discovered how to add text on Procreate—gosh, I was blind, haha! I’m happy with the improvements I made to this GIF version.

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Please do not repost my artwork/design. Ask me first.

Thank you!⁠

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“Beautiful Things Blossom”