#except my text editor

[loycos]

So my tumblr has been in dark mode since forever and all of a sudden the posts arent dark anymore??? Is tumblr trying to blind me or something?

[booasaur]

Pinned post - F/F Fic Recs

  Anonymous asked:

Hi, I've see you saying that you're reading a lot of fic lately and I was wondering if you could rec some? I so trust your taste and I think we have so many fandons in common...

Hiya! So first, what I was reading over the summer were some new fandoms that I'm still mulling over. Those ships and fics, I'm not ready to recommend anything for, I'll come back to them later.

As you know, I find it hard to pick out faves and recommend things but coincidentally, some time back, when I hadn't read fics for years, I decided to see which I could easily remember. It’s not close to being an exhaustive list, I just noted down whatever came to me over a few hours, and almost all are pretty old, often from my first go-around in each fandom, but it’s a fair number. I've read other great ones that might not be as easily remembered for any number of reasons, like if I was in a particular frame of mind or if I read too many good ones at once so none really stood out, if I read them in between other things going on in life, etc. These ones slotted into the ole memory bank but that doesn't say anything about those left off.

I'm not sure how many of these are fandoms you're into, but when I'm in a real fic-reading mood I'll often try fandoms I don't know, so hopefully you can still give some of them a shot. I tried to organize by fandom though they're mostly in the order I remembered them, so it's not alphabetical or fave first--though it did end up being pretty chronologically backwards. I was literally going back through the years and I don't think I've read some of the anime ones in like, more than a decade? And while for my own list, I often was like oh, all of that author's fics for this ship and would know what I meant, here I tried to narrow it down to one fic per author, since it can be hard to know where to start, but definitely give their other fics a try if you liked that one.

Added a cut for length. All stories are f/f and complete unless specified. As I go through some of these, let me come back here to add that it’s worth keeping in mind as you read these that they are products of their time, some more than a decade ago. 

Gilmore Girls - Paris/Rory

The Best Of It - by dollsome - 74k words » Canon, fake dating, set after the original series (so ignoring A Year in the Life). To win a point on a talk show, Paris announces she's dating Rory. It's incredibly in voice and matches the show vibe so it's just so funny and sweet and just a plain delight. It's what actually made me create this list, I was idly wondering what else I'd read that brought me this much joy.  

Boston Marriage - by Jae - 5k words » Canon, college years, Paris has a proposal. The first fic for this ship I read, I think? Where I was like, oh, so it’s possible to be that in voice and replicate everything about a show even as distinct as this one. One of the ship’s classics (and being from 2005, just a f/f classic overall?).    

The Unbearable Weirdness of Being - by klynkey - 3k words » Canon, assumed high school years, Rory and Paris get into a debate. After having read the one above, I found this soon after and was like, okay, is everyone able to easily replicate that Gilmore Girls patter? (No.) Another ship classic.

Agents of Shield - Bobbi/Jemma

To Keep My Wolves From Your Door - by pirateygoodness - 41k words » Werewolf AU, so elaborate and for a ship so relatively rare, I’m not sure how this exists but I’m glad it does. It’s got some plot, a sweet romance, smut with feelings, just a rewarding read every time I go back to it, which is pretty often. Given my main audience, I’ll mention there are some flashbacks to Bobbi and her ex husband but that didn’t affect my enjoyment at all.  

Soulmate AUs (just chapter 2) - by alittleunstable - 3k words » Canon, cute little soulmate AU, which I’m always a sucker for. 

Star Trek Voyager - Janeway/Seven of Nine

Where the Dream Takes You - by nejvit - 27k words » Canon, one of the tamer getting together Trek setups, more introspective rather than caused by some alien tomfoolery, but I really like how it handles the very commonly featured J/7 conflict of Janeway dating someone in her crew. It is a bit dense but I found the character and dynamic exploration so insightful and interesting. When I first read J/7 fics years ago (in the late ‘00s), this author’s fics didn’t particularly stand out but when I came back to the fandom more recently, they were among my very favorite.  

The Rod and the Staff - by Trek in Tandem - 13k words » Canon, deals with the aftermath of an existing ep where Janeway went on a mission and ran into trouble. The religious stuff comes across as more the writer playing with the episode’s actual religious references than anything heavy-handed so I found it easily ignorable. Really great, clean prose, one of the writers who always stuck out to me for that.    

Not Just Strip Poker - by Pink Rabbit Productions - 15k words » Canon, a funny, lighter piece that definitely starts out as full comedy, after a misunderstanding, but there’s some deceptively interesting discussion later on in this one too.

Stargate SG-1 - Janet/Sam

Bits and Pieces series - by Pink Rabbit Productions - 278k words, WIP » Canon, this series integrates Sam/Janet into the first season of the show and I don't think it was ever finished, and the last one especially was left on a cliffhanger, but the rest of the “episodes” are worth the read. Also, when I put this down for my own list, I just said "Pink Rabbit's Sam/Janet stuff", because I remember going through all of them at some point, the stuff outside this series was fun too, and if this full incomplete series is too daunting, definitely some of the one-shots might be more fun.

The Devil Wears Prada - Andy/Miranda

Truth and Measure - by Telanu - 272k words » Canon, diverges from the end of the movie as Andy decides to stay with Miranda. What even is there to say about this one? A true f/f classic, has been in the top three of my general f/f recs for more than a decade and still holds up. Just a perfect continuation of the movie, same world, same characters, continuing growth and development of characters and dynamics, a true believable slow burn romance. And the author’s published it without taking down the fic. :)

Facts of Life - Jo/Blair

Ribbon - by Della Street - 15k words » Canon, diverging in the college years. This is the first of her fics I read for this pair and I fell in love with her writing. Back in an era when a lot of authors started off with lots of exposition and setting up the scenario, I was so impressed by how quickly and easily she did her worldbuilding and character development, and how in-voice and and close to the show everyone was. Definitely recommend going through the rest of her Jo/Blair fics.

Birds of Prey (2002) - Barbara/Helena

And Another Thing - by fembuck - 12k words » Canon, a straightforward getting together fic, things come to a head after Helena starts pulling away. After seeing which of the fics I remember best and like most here, I think I really just favor a great execution of a simple premise. And because this is fembuck, whose fic was a load bearing pillar of f/f fandom, there’s a nice balance of humor and angst with the romance.    

An Empirical Question - by harper_m - 30k words » Canon, an accidental fake dating situation spins out into something much more. In a funny coincidence, the same things I said about fembuck apply to harper_m, such a significant contributor to f/f fic over the years (see also this older archive account). This fic is again mostly a well done exploration of the characters and their dynamic if suddenly an explicitly romantic layer was added to canon.

Skins - Effy/Katie

An Imperfection in an Otherwise Perfect Plan - by harper_m - 21k words » WW1 AU, they’re nurses in the army. As with the Mockingnerd werewolf AU above, I’m surprised that for such a rare ship, there’s such a specific (and good) AU, but definitely not complaining. It feels that much nicer to find a true gem in such a tiny collection.    

fate is overgrown - by thememoriesfire - 53k words » Post-series, years later, Katie’s in a rut and stumbles into Effy again. I do find it funny that I have no Glee rec from TMF and instead went for the Skins fic that isn’t even transatlanticism but I really love this one, to the point where there were a couple of months where I just reread it constantly, even downloading my own version to fix formatting and typos. It’s almost slice of life, as Katie and Effy find themselves surprisingly healing together, after their fraught history. 

The Sarah Connor Chronicles - Sarah/Cameron

Resistance - by Anklebones - 120k words, WIP » Canon, diverges from season 2 as Cameron continues to glitch. Like a lot of the good Sarah/Cameron fics, this is a great dissection of AI and sentience and what it means to be human and have free will. I mean, within a great story, not just characters debating. It’s not finished but I really like what’s been written so far.   The author also has a three-part complete fic where Sarah and Cameron are already in a messy thing and then have to confront some things when there’s an attack at school: Just Another day in Paradise… 1 2 3 (19k words).    

No Rest for the Wicked - by InspectorBoxer - 172k words, WIP » Firefly AU, River Tam takes the place of Cameron while Sarah’s a new character to the universe. This is such a fun blend of the two universes and the romance is such a good slow build. As with most of the WIPs I’m linking, there’s enough to really enjoy even if not complete yet.

Once Upon a Time - Emma/Regina

The Secret's in the Telling - by pyrophoric - 250k words » Canon, set pretty early on but where Emma and Regina are at least nominally getting along. Things are set into motion when a mysterious thief shows up and keeps bullying Emma. This is one of my favorite iterations of their dynamic, with long-suffering secretly fond Regina and hapless too-earnest Emma.    

You do not have to walk on your knees - by dollsome - 10k words » Canon, mid-season 2, Regina and Emma learning to get along. As is dollsome’s specialty, a lot of character work and humor. Also would recommend Teenage ... Dream? (12k words), where Regina gets like...kind of emotionally aged down? You’ll see. The premise sounds cracky but again, the character exploration and humor and sweetness. :)

Once Upon a Time - Aurora/Mulan

a story, a tale - by maleficently - 27k words » AU where it’s Maleficent who casts the original curse on Aurora and her true love, not Regina on Snow and Charming. This is so fun because you can see all the similarities and differences in how the story unfolds compared to the show, including flashbacks to the fairy tale world before the curse is cast.    

Object Permanence - by badlance - 18k words » Canon, after Aurora and Phillip have made it to Storybrooke. Aurora’s still furious at Mulan for leaving them to go off with Robin Hood, but suddenly something happens to Mulan and Aurora can’t stop thinking about her. It starts off an interesting look at Aurora and how someone acclimatizes to the real world after Fairy Tale Land so like, therapy, jobs, but it’s quite romantic and sweet in the end.   Also Could Have Been A Year (5k words) and its sequel Bear It Out Even to the Edge (17k words), where Mulan learns the price of staying away from Aurora and gives up everything to make sure Aurora’s okay.

Wicked - Elphie/Glinda

Gelphie Trilogy: 1. Easier Said Than Done 2. Inevitabilities & Eventualities 3. Possibilities and Certainties - by mecelphie - 3.8m words » Rape trigger warning for the very first chapter: Elphie suffers a violent attack and much of the first story is her healing from that, though the other two stories also occasionally bring up the lingering effects on Elphie.     Back when I read it, the first story had some typos, missing punctuation and the like, that might also make it hard for some to get into it, but the world really unfolds into something incredibly rich and rewarding. Note that full series word count, it IS that detailed and extensive a story, almost slice of life, except for the precipitating event and things like homophobia and when Elphie's background is tackled. I haven't actually finished it yet, I pause every once in a while till I have a large chunk of chapters and then reread from the start and get sucked in anew each time.    

The Thrill, Basis Determined - by Ridiculous Mavis - 24k words » Bookverse, just delightful, beautifully written fluff. Everything this writer writes is beautiful. The further down I go on this list the less restraint I feel in linking multiple stories by the same author, so of her other Gelphie fics, I'll also specifically rec The Way Out of Myself (22k words), bookverse bodyswap with Avaric and Elphie where they both learn something about the other and Invitations Under False Pretences (27k words, WIP), bookverse fake dating, it's not marked as complete but it doesn't leave you hanging, if you know what I mean.    

The Week of Ill Repute - by Chudley Cannon - 37k words, WIP » Bookverse again, which, I don't prefer them over musicalverse, it's just worked out that I've remembered (liked?) these fics best. This one I remember from my very first Gelphie fic-reading tour and thinking, wow, this is so good. It never updated after that and I believe it actually does leave you hanging, but I mean, you specifically remember a fic more than 10 years later, it's gotta be on the list, right?

The Bletchley Circle - Millie/Susan

In the Blackout - by RidiculousMavis - 11k words » Canon, set during the Bletchley years, Susan’s just arrived and meets Millie, her flighty and irreverent roommate. A wonderful look at how they start to get along after their personalities and keen minds first clash.    

Clerical Work - by Kivrin - 3k words » Canon, also set during Bletchley, Susan tries to figure out her feelings the way she would a code and then things fall into place in a surprising way. Relatively short but I loved the sharp little characterizations of the main four, including Jean.

Legend of the Seeker - Cara/Kahlan

All the Days - by tcbg77 - 67k words » Post-series, some years after, everything seems to be going well until Richard and Kahlan’s child is kidnapped. Cara, now Richard’s general, sets off with Kahlan to rescue the child. I love the pacing of this one, the length allowing for a full quest and a slow burn, and combined with the well-written action makes it seem like a fantasy story with romance on its own. I basically treat it as exactly that and reread every few years.    

Within My Heart There Is Another Heart - by badlance and pirateygoodness - 26k words » Post-series as well, magic pregnancy. This is pretty in a way that makes my heart ache. i was surprised to see it was 26k words, since it feels so much longer and shorter than that at the same time.

The 100 - Clarke/Lexa

Within Me An Invincible Summer - by badlance - 62k words » Canon post-s2, Clarke gets over her anger at Lexa. One of the many great fics written during the hiatus, I’d put off reading it when I first got into the ship, during the start of s3, wanting to focus on what was canon at the time. And then of course 307 happened and I moved even farther away from canon, but this fic, its two-line summary, it showed up again and again in rec lists and bookmarks and was so haunting at the time, you know, seasons and people not changing, but finally I caved, and it was as wonderful as it had promised to be.    

Love on the Ground - by hedaswolf - 19k words » Also canon post-s2, taking the s3 knife scene from the trailer and again spinning it into eventual forgiveness. There’s a bit in it that is one of my favorite moments in fic ever.     

they take their shots but we're bulletproof - by nightshifted - 10k words » Again, canon post-s2, it’s like a whole genre of amazing fics just within one fandom, all the more precious for how that all turned out in canon. Like Within Me An Invincible Summer above, I couldn’t bear to read it for a long time but I knew it was one of the classics, I’d seen it pass by my dash very early on because of our shared Glee past. And yeah, it was very good, like all these post-s2 fics, allowed to be a little rougher and harsher because they didn’t yet know how much comforting the ship and fandom would need.    

More Women than Warriors - by steklir - 172k words » Boarding school AU, new American student Clarke arrives at a British boarding school where Lexa’s the Head Girl. I don’t know what was going through the author’s mind when they were writing this but given the timing and content, it felt like an extremely low stakes and ultimately fluffy take on these two kids. There’s a lot of the show’s language and customs worked into this school, so that only adds to the impression, but in the end I’ll remember this for being a rewarding sloooowwww burn and really flowery, pretty writing.    

Stud: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, Pride - by coeurdastronaute - 61k words » Modern AU, Clarke’s a teacher and Lexa’s a CEO. Really plays into the effortlessly cool Stud!Lexa thing that was going around at the time, but tbh, she was confident but nice, so I liked it. coeurdastronaute tends to write most chapters as self-contained, so it’s more like a string of connected stories than one long narrative. They’re super prolific and have a lot of stories I liked, I picked Stud as the one I remembered first, and then grabbed a few of the other more memorable ones, all modern AUs: Strip:  1, 2, 3 (10k words) -  Lexa gets a lapdance HSAU (37k words) - College AU, I’m kidding, high school AU Heart: 1, 2, 3, Thanksgiving (30k words) -  Lexa’s a heart transplant patient at the hospital where Clarke works    

Aftermath - by MaraudingTurkey - 8k words » Canon, diverging from the middle of s2, Clarke accidentally courting Lexa. It’s super charming and cute (and because of how early it was written, avoids a lot of the angst to come).    

Prompts Collection: Clexa - by nutalexfanfic - 114k words (as of 2022-12-30) » Lots of various short stories with all kinds of premises, canon and AUs. The author has several popular longer stories going as well, but they’re at various levels of completion and I actually remember really liking of the one-shots here. If interested in the longer ones, the firefighter AU Polis 433 (131k words, WIP) is quite popular, and I think the first one I read was the Olympic AU Individual Medley (95k words, WIP).    

Abby Doesn't Ask - by onlyasdark - 3k words » Canon, some vague point past 307 where Lexa doesn’t die, short vignettes in Abby’s POV. A great example of an external perspective on a ship, because you get deliberately limited glimpses, and in this case especially colored by Abby’s not exactly positive feelings about Lexa, but despite all that, the relationship shines through.    

The Library - by ethiobird - 55k words » College AU, they work at a bar (called The Library). I think what drew me to this one is that the Lexa characterization is more stoic than you often see in modern AUs, especially high school or college. I’ve ended up liking a lot of different takes on her but as much as it’s obviously nigh impossible to recreate the circumstances that created canon Lexa, I do have a particular fondness for that version so I like any fic that approaches it.    

although i'm not making plans (i hope you understand there's a reason why) - by brokendevil - 6k words » Modern AU, friends with benefits but secretly in love. The kind of second person fic that really lets you wallow in the angst before the rewarding payoff. The author has several other popular works, especially a year of sundays (98k words), a small town AU, but this one just stuck in my mind.   

To the Victor Go the Spoils - by exfactor - 11k words » College AU, Clarke and Lexa’s sororities are locked in a fierce competition. The author has some other very popular (and angstier) works but this one’s cute and fun as hell.    

the business of caring - by coldmackerel - 72k words » College AU, pretty much a workplace comedy set at campus police. Someone’s painting graffiti masterpieces all over the place and as the head of campus police it’s Lexa’s job (she thinks) to catch the culprit. This author is so good at humor, and also can be really poignant at times, like in it's called contraband for a reason (54k words), a jumbled up timeline of the two in prison. I’m told the canon amnesia fic is quite good but I’ve not yet felt emotionally up to it.    

The 300 - by Bucklethorpe - 66k words » Modern AU, Clarke accidentally burns down 300 of Lexa’s trees. This starts off as a bit of a joking take on canon, and is laugh out loud funny the whole way through, but also quite sweet. Definitely a frequent reread.    

sworn under an oath - by faithtastic - 14k words » Canon, diverges from 307, smut with feelings but the feelings are so good. This authors probably far more famous work is don't wanna be your girl (105k words), with one-shot extras and even AUs, in which Clarke is a porn star, and that is funny and hot, but this fix-it so soon after ep 307 will always be a particular balm.    

beat the devil's tattoo - by isawet - 53k words » Modern AU, they’re in college but Lexa’s secretly actually planning to take back the leadership of her small country. They fall in love anyway and it’s funny, hot, sweet, romantic, just a great well-written story with excellent reread value.    

Your Heart On My Sleeve - by aredpen - 58k words, WIP » Soulmate-marking AU set in canon, if that makes sense. Starts when Clarke’s still up in the Ark and it’s just an interesting exploration of how it all would work in those circumstances. I love the little details and insight into what would change and how.     

AGAINST THE MULTIVERSE - orphaned - 13k words » Modern AU, art student Clarke reads an article Lexa wrote and fires off an angry response, starting a correspondence. Despite not being particularly long or having a unique premise, I remember this one because the writing’s so confident and sure of what it wants to be. It feels like a lot of fics--most writing in general, really, tends to flatten itself to not stand out and it was nice to read something so strong.  

To Wear it Like a Crown - by Laney_builds_cathedrals - 42k words, WIP » Teacher/student, kinda, and definitely an age gap, so don’t read if that’s not your thing. Clarke’s the new art therapist at a school for troubled kids and realizes things aren’t quite right. It hasn’t been updated in years but the writing is just gorgeous and I couldn’t leave it off, it’ll always have a place in my lists.    

Remember Me. - by C_AND_B - 11k words » Amnesia AU, they were in a relationship and then Clarke gets in an accident. God, the perfect mix of angst and fluff. This writer has a bunch of adorable one-shots, so check the rest out too.     

tear down the walls - by wariangle - 5k words » Modern AU, Lexa’s an MMA fighter but it’s not really about that, just Clarke falling for her. Extremely hot in a very matter of fact way, but also plenty of feelings involved.    

five times clarke and lexa aren’t sure if they're a couple or not - by nutmeg101 - 8k words » College AU, everyone keeps on thinking Clarke and Lexa are together. They’re not so sure they aren’t. It’s cute! I mean, it’s exactly what a fic like this should be.    

Help, I Need Somebody (Not Just Anybody) - by thesummerofrain - 92k words, WIP » College AU, Clarke volunteers at the college helpline, Lexa writes in. It’s an anonymous line, so no worries about weird tracking or anything like that, things just organically progress so that they meet and slowly become friends. It’s mellow in general and includes lots of slice of life moments with other people as well, and of course the romance is slow burn as heck.

Maleficent - Aurora/Maleficent

The Queen of Sunshine and Bright Things - by alittlelesspain (oprhaned) - 31k words » Canon, after the first movie, Aurora has to learn how to rule while Maleficient has to learn what her place in Aurora’s life is now. Through time skips, distance, and political crises, they relearn how much they still mean to each other. It’s beautiful and romantic and a great fic for those who wanted their connection from the movie to go further.

Glee - Quinn/Rachel

This Kiss - by poetzproblem - 141k words » Canon, set in s2, starting from a game of spin the bottle. Rachel and Quinn are shaken by their kiss and Quinn especially doubles down on her mean girl persona. Faberry’s had a lot of great fics and I’ve loved so many but I remember thinking while reading this one that this is probably how it would go, if it ever happened. It’s patient and takes its time and is one of my definitive fics for them.     Also the Don’t Blink series (788k words as of 2023-01-13) is this expansive, ever-growing universe set after graduation. I haven’t read it all, but I’ve reread some of the earlier parts many times, for the super rewarding payoff to them realizing their feelings are mutual, and others finding out about them.    

A Family of Trees - by powergrapes - 8k words » Canon, diverging after s1, Quinn keeps Beth. Rachel’s somehow the only one the baby will calm down for and Quinn is reluctantly forced to call on her for help. It’s sweet and funny, my favorite from this writer but they’ve written several great fics, most popular being Head Full of Doubt, Road Full of Promise ( 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 - 60k words), a real Faberry classic, where to cheer up Quinn up after giving up Beth, the club goes on a road trip.     

Summer Mornings (oldest chapters at bottom) - by freshtilapia - 35k words » Canon, post-s1, we follow Rachel every morning of her summer vacation as she sees Quinn pass by on her daily run. Slowly they begin to hang out and bond. I think this was one of my first Faberry fics? I was a late bloomer, it took me a while to see their potential, but I really loved how authors saw their post-s1 dynamic and this was a super cute, endearing version of it.    

Boats in the Sky - by WaveGoodbye - 39k words » Canon, diverging after s3, now both in college, Rachel and Quinn are actually friends. Such good friends that Quinn’s roommate thinks maybe there’s something more. As with Clexa above, it’s so interesting how much character dynamics and fandom attitudes change depending on when a fic is written, because unlike the tension in s1 or s2 fics or Quinn being strung so tight with internalized homophobia, now she’s chill, they’re getting along. I love seeing a fic starting with them as friends, plus, a good chunk of it is external POV, which is a fave.    

Our Brilliantly Tangled Thanksgiving - by Elly-Bells - 4k words » Canon, diverging from s1, Quinn has kept Beth--actually, kind of AU too, because her parents are super nice here as well. But it’s just a super fluffy, super cute funny little fic. The author has a fair number of other fluffy fics of varying length to check out as well.    

Crazy on You -  by roxystyle011 - 82k words » Canon, futurefic written early on, Rachel’s a big celebrity now but gets into trouble and is court ordered to see a therapist, who turns out to be Quinn. This is written so early on I’m not sure if people would consider it the most in-character fic out there, though what is in-character when it comes to Glee, but it’s bold and fun and, as with the Clexa multiverse fic above, I just like when people take big swings with characters. There’s a moment near the end of the fic, when a certain page is turned, that still remains one of my favorite, most memorable reveals in fic to this day.

Dune - Chani/Irulan

Serendipity - by Tamoline - 26k words » Canon divergent, Duke Leto survives and Irulan ends up living in the Atreides household as a guest, while Paul is openly with Chani. When Irulan is called off world to testify, Paul sends Chani as her bodyguard. I’m always so grateful that I picked that year to randomly go through the f/f Yuletide entries because this is such a good fic and I could so easily have missed it completely. It’s got politics, action, enemies to lovers, just this great little novella that happens to be set in the world of Dune. It’s fics like this that have me going through the lesser kudosed out there because it’s a genuine fave.

Marvel - Carol Danvers/Jessica Drew

Smell Like I Sound - by Sineala - 7k words » Comicsverse, Carol meets Jess who’s great except Carol can’t shake an unpleasant feeling whenever she’s around. Mostly fluff surrounding the concept of pheromones.    

He Picked the Wrong One - by beckydawolf - 34k words » Comicsverse, Carol and Jess are knocked out in a battle and wake up in an alternate universe where most things are similar, except that Carol is dead and there’s no Jess. They have to figure out what happened and why they were brought there and certain feelings come to light. It’s plotty and fun and the reveal of why they were brought to the alt universe is actually pretty great.    

put them back in poetry (if only I knew how) - by singalellaby - 31k words » Coffee shop AU, Carol and Steve Rogers are best friends and come back from the army to open a bakery together. It’s a lot of slice of life stuff, making friends in the neighborhood, developing crushes on the regulars like one Jessica Drew, grad student, that kind of thing.

Teen Wolf - Allison/Lydia

Untitled - by elvesarebad - 13k words » Canon, post-s2, after recent reveals they’re no longer friends but Lydia asks Allison to help kill Peter. It’s angsty, a lot of raw edges and slow thawing of their frosty relationship in the middle of difficult circumstances, but the canon characters and friendship are so interesting and the writer captures that.

Bleach - Soi Fan/Yoruichi

The Art of Transformation - by siyentista - 30k words  » Mangaverse, mostly, Soi Fan is injured during a big battle and Yoruichi realizes how much Soi Fan means to her. Despite an action-filled start, it settles into more of a slower character-centric fic, lighter and often comical. Given their canon relationship, it’s refreshing to see the dynamic be more mutual and balanced, and despite the relatively short length, the story feels satisfyingly built up (perhaps because of how much history they already have in canon?).

Brooklyn Nine-Nine - Amy/Rosa

Farm-to-Table, Non-GMO, Responsibly Sourced - by impertinence - 6k words » Canon, going undercover as a couple to bust a maple syrup heist ring. I mean, what more is there to say, except that it’s appropriately funny and cute.     

Margin of Error - by idiopathicsmile - 8k words » Canon, Amy needs a place to stay and Rosa offers. The humor matches the show so well, and it’s great to see Rosa’s POV since she’s so deadpan.

Les Misérables - Cosette/Eponine

Any More Obvious - by idiopathicsmile - 2k words » High school AU, Cosette decides to befriend the school goth. It’s just sweet and cute.    

This Longing I Inherit - by myrmidryad - 44k words » College AU, Marius starts dating Cosette and brings her into the friend group. Cosette’s so shy and sheltered, she’s thrilled to meet new people, including the cool and intimidating Eponine. As they all become closer, Eponine realizes maybe she’s crushing on her friend’s gf. It’s much more gentle and sweet and friendship-focused than how soapy and angsty this description makes it sound, and the length allows it a slower burn. A frequent reread, especially to get to the payoff.     

she knows her way around - by lavendersgreen - 18k words » College AU, Marius is too nervous to talk to Cosette so Eponine, pining after him, volunteers to be their go-between. Cosette turns out to be surprisingly fun and as they become friends, Eponine starts to question some things about herself. The premise is already cute with even a but the characterizations and dialogue are so snappy and flow so easily, it’s a great execution of this trope.    

to be loved and to be in love - by missandrogyny - 7k words  » Soulmate-marking AU, they’re musical artists who meet at a concert and immediately get along. They start challenging each other to try songs outside their main genres, much to their fans’ excitement. The soulmate reveal is pretty satisfying as it’s seeded early, and the whole fic is sweet and cute.

The Lizzie Bennet Diaries - Gigi/Lydia

get loved, make more - by allthingsholy - 10k words » Post-series, Lydia feels uncomfortable around Gigi, given what they share in common and that everyone knows. In a series of vignettes over time, for each of the family events they meet up at, she slowly gets over it, given they have so many other things in common, including a love of gossip, fashion, and teasing their siblings. It’s a great character exploration and the writing’s so sharp and pretty.     

Searching For a Sound We Hadn't Heard Before - by Care - 13k words » Post-series, again things are uneasy at first but they thaw and the two end up taking a road trip. That’s a trope with a lot of potential, now that I’m thinking about it, the way people get to know each other under those very specific circumstances, and this is a great execution of it.    

from the dark with you above - by cairophoenix - 22k words » Post-series, again, an awkward meetup to slow friendship and in this case some prime pining afforded by the longer length. The strangers to friends to lovers pipeline just applies really well to these two, what can I say.    

Improvising - by krakens - 3k words » Post-series, some years after, Gigi decides to surprise Lizzy and Darcy with an epilogue posted on Lizzie’s vlog. She enlists Lydia’s help and things escalate. It’s cute and perfect for this particular series, it would have to be that vlog as the catalyst again.    

Candid - by rhymeswithblue - 5k words » Post-series, by simply hanging out with their famous siblings, Gigi and Lydia face some of the same online scrutiny. Again, I kind of love this aspect of a fic set in this world, because of course part it is that there’s a whole audience watching them and it influences them just as much they influence it.

She's the Man - Olivia/Viola

Loose Ends series - by fraidy_bat - 38k words » Post-movie, Olivia comes to terms with the fact that Sebastian isn’t Viola. By the time I was branching out and reading popular f/f fics many years ago, this was already a classic, both as a general f/f fic and in this particular fandom. One of those ships that makes so much sense, and this is an angsty but ultimately very rewarding take on what should have happened after the movie.

Tomb Raider (2013) - Lara/Sam

she traces your scars and rebuilds your world - by lescousinsdangereux - 18k words » Post-2013 game, Lara and Sam are still traumatized by what transpired on the island and lean heavily on each other, even as Lara heads off on another research mission. It’s a great character study at their PTSD but also building on the relationship from canon and sweet and romantic and funny. This was my definitive version of post-game canon, not the other games or the movie or the comics.

Game of Thrones - Margaery/Sansa

Keep the Bouquets series - by Netgirl_y2k - 7k words » Canon diverging...earlyish on, I don’t know the series, but most characters are still alive. Not thinking either’s worthy of Joffrey, the Lannisters arrange a marriage between Sansa and Margaery and they...make it work. Despite being relatively so short, each individual part under 3k words, they’re so effective, these two finding something in that brutal world.

St. Trinian's (2007) - Annabelle/Kelly

This Town We're Painting - by Fahye - 8k words » Post-movies, they’re an established couple, going about the not so normal lives of St. Trinian’s graduates. Funny and in the vein of the movies, bringing in many of the other former students, and solidifying the Annabelle/Kelly dynamic that seemed so full of potential.

Mai Hime - Natsuki/Shizuru

Inter Nos - by ethnewinter - 1.2m words, WIP » Ancient Rome AU, this very detailed, intricate story with all the Mai Hime characters, Shizuru’s a general and Natsuki’s assigned as her bodyguard during a visit to an allied kingdom. I’m gonna be honest, I haven’t read this in many, many years and definitely haven’t caught up, but even back then when it was a fraction of the size, it was already considered a classic. At this length, I feel like just reading what’s there is a reward in itself.

Kim Possible - Kim/Shego

Alone, Together - by Failte200 - 108k words » Canon, Kim and Shego accidentally get sent to an alternate dimension, same Earth, but no human. They have to get along to survive. Another f/f classic, I remember being much younger and the scale of the fic, the years they lived alone and grew older together, took my breath away.   

BSP01: Best Sidekick Possible - by Sobriety - 62k words » Canon, there's a King of Thieves competition and Shego wants the best sidekick possible, i.e., Kim. I think I ended up really liking the romance in this one.

Phoenix Wright - Adrian/Franziska

Follow the Fool - by CantFaketheFunk - 53k words » Canon, post-Phoenix Wright 2, Franziska feels guilty about advising Adrian to perjure herself so when Adrian asks to see her, she invites her to Germany to stay with her. The setting can be a bit goofy, as it is in the game, but the characters and relationship are taken seriously.

Sailor Moon - Haruka/Michiru

FwB - by harukaze - 321k words » AU, no powers, they meet as adults and decide to become friends with benefits. I remember this one Greyhound trip I took from NYC to Toronto, I was riveted to this fic and just read for most of the trip, wanting to see how it'd end. Soapy and angsty and very addicting.

Annnd then these two het fics:

The Big Bang Theory - Penny/Sheldon

The Paladin Protocol - by SpaceAnJL - 88k words » Canon, the guys take Penny LARPing and she ends up enjoying it, and bonding with Sheldon while Leonard feels left out. Very character driven slow burn romance while being funny and presumably true to the characters, I've not actually ever watched the show, but I've seen a few clips on Youtube. Just a great fic and one of the few m/f fics I've read more than once.

Star Trek (2009) - Spock/Uhura

The Place Between - by PsiCygni - 309k words » Canon, set before the movie, Uhura needs an advisor for her project and Commander Spock needs a partner while negotiating with a particular alien species. The only answer? Fake dating! Slowwww burn and since I like both the characters in all their forms, an enjoyable fic.

And ya know, however old some of these might be, if you liked them, think about leaving a nice review. I had a saved fic from a site that’d gone down and like, more than 10 years after it was written I sent an email to the address provided and actually got a reply! 

[dravidious]

Typing Tips That I Stumbled Upon Randomly:

The Ctrl key lets you jump between words really quickly. If you hold Ctrl and press the left or right arrow keys, instead of moving your cursor 1 character you'll move it a whole word; if you want to edit that word that's 3 words back, you can just hold Ctrl and left-left-left, and you're there.

Even more useful in my opinion, if you hold Ctrl and press Backspace you'll delete the entire word you're on. That's just really nifty because a lot of the time when you're deleting you want to delete the whole word, so this is much faster.

Also, idk how well-known this is but holding Shift and moving your cursor will make you highlight any characters you move over. That's useful on its own, but combining that with Ctrl lets you quickly highlight whole words or sentences, so you can easily copy+paste them. You can also hold Shift to edit any selections you made with your mouse or something.

Also it took me too long to realize that the Home and End keys are actually really nice sometimes. Home takes you to the start of the line you're on, and End takes you to the end. Hold Shift while doing that and you can highlight the whole line. Very nice for programming. Also holding Ctrl and pressing Home or End takes you to the top or bottom of the page, but I barely use that.

A similarly useful key that I also overlooked is the Delete key. It's like the Backspace key, but it deletes the character in front of your cursor instead of behind it. Just like with Backspace Ctrl+Delete lets you delete a whole word in front of your cursor.

Also Ctrl+A lets you highlight the whole page.

Also even when you're not typing and instead just browsing a web page or something, you still technically have a cursor; if you click a piece of text, then hold Shift and press the arrow keys, you'll start highlighting text.

Practice Exercise: Click on the t in this word, then hold Shift and press left and right on the arrow keys! Now try holding Ctrl+Shift while you press the arrow keys! Hold Shift and press Home or End! Hold Shift and use your mouse to left-click on different spots in the paragraph and see how your selection changes!

[prokopetz]

One of my perennial probably-never-gonna-do-it ideas for a tabletop RPG is... well, okay, have you ever heard of Chronica Feudalis? It's a tabletop RPG set in 12th Century England, except its central conceit is that it's actually from 12th Century England, in an alternative history in which tabletop roleplaying games were invented during the 12th Century rather than the 20th. The text is written entirely in character as a medieval English monk, with commentary by the contemporary editor who ostensibly translated it from the original Middle English.

Anyway, if I ever find the time to perform the historical research to properly do it justice, some day I want to write a Prohibition era hidden-world science fiction game (i.e., a superficially realistic setting with the science-fictional elements forming a "secret world" within the ostensibly mundane milieu), presented as a game written during the actual 1920s in an alternative history in which tabletop roleplaying games were invented and popularised by H G Wells.

[atlanticghostcrab]

As of today I finally have the new post editor (except for text posts, apparently).

):

[dduane]

I just received a copy of a book I've been very much looking forward to by a favorite author, but the quality of the book itself is... not great. Cheap paper, weak binding, even a weird illustration of the main character on the cover that I'm having trouble believing the author approved. Obviously, I don't want to leave a bad review on Amazon or GoodReads or anywhere, as I'm 100% certain the content is as excellent as her other work. But how can I best let the publisher (Baen) know I'm disappointed without threatening to never buy her books again? Because, well, if this is the only option, I'm gonna keep buying them even in my disappointment.

Well, the first thing I thought when I read this was "Wow, I'm really glad I don't have anything in print from Baen at the moment except a couple of anthologized short stories." :)

As for the rest of it, let's take it point by point.

Adding a cut here, because this will run a bit long. Caution: contains auctorial bitching and moaning, painful illustrations of cases in point, and brief advice on how to complain most effectively. (Also links to paintings of cats.)

Cheap paper: This has been an accurate complaint since well before COVID—and it's often been worse since, with supply chain issues also being involved. That said: one way publishers routinely save money on printing books, especially the bigger ones, is by going for thinner/cheaper paper. I remember one of our UK editors going on at great length and with huge annoyance—during one of those late-night convention-bar bitch sessions—over how the only way they could get some really good books published (because Upstairs insisted on reducing the per-copy production costs) was by reducing the paper quality to the point where you could nearly read through it. Sacrificing decent text size(s) also became part of this. Nobody in editorial was happy about the result: but there wasn't much they could do.

Bad bindings: Similar problem. Sewn bindings used to be a thing in paperbacks... but not any more: not for a good while, now. These days, it's all glue. Even hardcovers are showing up glued rather than sewn. Don't get me started. :/ (This is why I so treasure some of the oldest paperbacks I've acquired, which are actually sewn.)

Crap covers: I've had my share of these—though my share of some really good ones, too. And one of the endless frustrations of traditional publishing is that the writer routinely has little or even no influence over what the cover will look like... let alone how much will be spent on it, or (an often-related issue) how good the execution will be.

There are of course exceptions. If you're working at the, well, @neil-gaiman -esque level or similar in publishing, a lot more attention is going to be paid to your thoughts. You may even be able to get "cover veto" written into your contracts, so that if you disapprove, changes will get made. But without actual contractual stipulations, the writer has zero legal recourse or way to withhold approval. (And I bet even Neil has some horror stories.)

The normal workflow looks like this. After a book's purchased, its editor and the art director discuss what it's about and what the cover should look like. The art director then hires an artist and tells them what to do. After that, the artist executes their vision and gets paid. It is incredibly rare for a writer to have any significant input into this process. And as to whether or not they approve of the final result, well... the publisher mostly just shrugs and goes back to eyeing the bottom line, muttering "Who told them they get a vote?"

Now, I've been seriously lucky to occasionally be an exception in this regard. In particular, my editors at Harcourt (when Jane Yolen and Michael Stearns were editing Harcourt's Magic Carpet YA imprint) would ask me what I thought would be a good idea for the next Young Wizards cover, and I'd think about it a bit and send them back a paragraph or so about some core scene. They'd then talk to their art director, and after that send their notes and mine to Cliff Nielsen (who started doing the covers for the hardcover and mass-market paperback editions of the series in the mid-90s) or to Greg Swearingen (who was the artist on the digest-format editions). And the results, by and large, were pretty good. ...I also think affectionately of the UK artist Mick Posen, who insisted on seeing pictures of our cats before painting the covers for the Hodder editions of The Book of Night with Moon and On Her Majesty's Wizardly Service (the UK title for To Visit The Queen).

But this kind of treatment is a courtesy—not even vaguely suggested in the books' contracts, and very much the exception to the rule. And for every writer who's midlist, there are times when the luck runs out. For example: one time I wrote a book that was an AU-Earth-near-future fantasy police procedural, thematically pretty dark—dealing with issues of abuse of megacorporate power, institutionalized bigotry, and (explicitly) attempted genocide. And the cover, done by an artist who's a good friend and some of whose fabulous art hangs in our house, came out looking like this. It was... let's just say "not ideally representative."

So I was glad, when my local workflow allowed it, to recover the current, revised version of the book with something at least a little more apropos. But the original cover's not the artist's fault. He did what the art director told him... as a cover artist must do to get paid, and (ideally) to get hired again. At present, that's how the system works.

...So. You've got a badly-built and -presented book on your hands. How best to make your feelings known in some way that might make a difference down the line? (As you make it plain that you'll keep buying this author's books this way if you must.)

First of all: when (as part of my psych nursing training) we were taught how to complain most effectively, we were told that the first and most basic rule of the art is this:

Only Complain To Someone Who Can Actually Do Something About Your Problem

So I salute your desire not to waste your time taking the issue to the reviews on Amazon, or the pages of Goodreads... because they can't do anything. The odds that anyone from production at Baen is reading the comments there strike me as... well, not infinitesimally small, not being hit-by-a-meteorite-while-in-the-shopping-center-parking-lot small... but really low.

So: write to corporate.

In your place I would go online and rummage around a bit to find out who's on record as the publisher at Baen. I would then write them a letter on paper. And I would lay out the problem pretty much as you laid it out up at the top.

The tone I think I'd choose would be the more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger approach. I'd say, "I write to comment about your recently published book by [X Writer], whose work I love. I have to say, though, that I don't think the cover on [X Book] is terribly representative of the quality of the prose inside. And also, the construction and production quality of the book itself was a disappointment to me because [here spell out why].

"I'd really like to see [X. Writer's] books succeed with you, and I'd like to buy more of them without wondering whether I was going to be disappointed again. But if this is typical of how they're being produced, I'd also be concerned that the state of these books is setting up a situation in which the author's sales will be damaged, and you would stop publishing them... which would really be a shame. Whereas on the other hand, better production quality could keep previous purchasers coming back and buying, not only more books by this author, but books by others whom you publish."

This phrasing, as you'll have seen, walks a bit wide around the issue of your further purchases, while directing attention toward the bottom line... which will routinely be what the publisher's looking at from day to day. And—being, one has to hope, in possession of the wider picture as regards what's going on with their production costs—maybe they can actually do something about it.

Anyway, nothing ventured, nothing gained, yeah? It's worth a try. All you can do is hope for the best.

And finally: please know that I admire your commitment to the author: whoever she is, she's lucky to have you. It's a terrific thing to have readers who'll willing to spend the time to hunt you down, and who're willing not to judge a book by its cover. :)

[simplyanjuta]

Enhancing Sims Thumbnails 🖼️🔍👀

So I have received some questions regarding this post and had another look at the ThumbnailConfig.ini file to see if there is anything else worth tweaking to enhance sims thumbnails.

I also decided to share my settings (though not sure if this is a good idea, I'll see how it goes). Disclaimer, that what works well for me/on my screen, might not be the best solution for you and you might be better off with the default settings. Also remember that generating higher resolution thumbnails can slow down your game. I think that visually the settings (only) make a big difference if you play on a larger screen and/or with an upscaled UI (game accessibility settings).

You can try my settings or use the info shared below (I might update it in the future) to experiment with the settings yourself. You can find examples on how to edit the file in my previous posts here and here and you can use any text editor like Notepad or Notepad++ to do so.

Download and details below the cut ⤵️

Below you can see what I changed (marked in green) and for what purpose as well as what resolution settings there are in general. I only looked at sims thumbnails and ignored everything else. I also think some settings should not be messed with, like the ones affecting pictures that are uploaded to the Gallery (exception is if you wanna extract these pictures for editing purposes) and there are a few settings that are not relevant for gameplay. Some settings I'm not sure about (feel free to share any info).

📥Download:

Sim File Share

📒How to install:

This override does NOT go into your mods folder. Instead, you need to replace the original game file with it which you should find somewhere along a path like this:

C:\Program Files (x86)\Origin Games\The Sims 4\Game\Bin\res

The path might be slightly different for you and depends on where the game is installed on your computer. You can check the location in the EA app. To do so, select The Sims 4 ->  “Manage” -> “View properties” (there should be a similar option on Steam):

Locate the file ThumbnailConfig.ini as described above.

Save a copy of the original file somewhere on your computer in case you need to go back. (However, you can also run a game repair to restore the settings if needed.)

Replace the original file with the override (either with my file or with your own version).

Delete the file localthumbcache.package (see info here), so that the game can generate new thumbnails, then restart the game.

Note that you will need to repeat the steps/redo the changes whenever this file is overriden or updated or by the game.

[captdedeyes]

Friendly reminder that Wix.com is an Israeli-based company (& some website builders to look into instead)

I know the BDS movement is not targeting Wix.com specifically (see here for the companies they're currently boycotting) but since Wix originated in Israel as early as 2006, it would be best to drop them as soon as you can.

And while you're at it, you should leave DeviantArt too, since that company is owned by Wix. I deleted my DA account about a year ago not just because of their generative AI debacle but also because of their affiliation with their parent company. And just last month, DA has since shown their SUPPORT for Israel in the middle of Israel actively genociding the Palestinian people 😬

Anyway, I used to use Wix and I stopped using it around the same time that I left DA, but I never closed my Wix account until now. What WAS nice about Wix was how easy it was to build a site with nothing but a drag-and-drop system without any need to code.

So if you're using Wix for your portfolio, your school projects, or for anything else, then where can you go?

Here are some recommendations that you can look into for website builders that you can start for FREE and are NOT tied to a big, corporate entity (below the cut) 👇👇

Carrd.co

This is what I used to build my link hub and my portfolio, so I have the most experience with this platform.

It's highly customizable with a drag-and-drop arrangement system, but it's not as open-ended as Wix. Still though, it's easy to grasp & set up without requiring any coding knowledge. The most "coding" you may ever have to deal with is markdown formatting (carrd provides an on-screen cheatsheet whenever you're editing text!) and section breaks (which is used to define headers, footers, individual pages, sections of a page, etc.) which are EXTREMELY useful.

There's limits to using this site builder for free (max of 2 websites & a max of 100 elements per site), but even then you can get a lot of mileage out of carrd.

mmm.page

This is a VERY funny & charming website builder. The drag-and-drop system is just as open-ended as Wix, but it encourages you to get messy. Hell, you can make it just as messy as the early internet days, except the way you can arrange elements & images allows for more room for creativity.

Straw.page

This is an extremely simple website builder that you can start from scratch, except it's made to be accessible from your phone. As such, the controls are limited and intentionally simple, but I can see this being a decent website builder to start with if all you have is your phone. The other options above are also accessible from your phone, but this one is by far one of the the simplest website builders available.

Hotglue.me

This is also a very simple & rudimentary website builder that allows you to make a webpage from scratch, except it's not as easy to use on a mobile phone.

At a glance, its features are not as robust or easy to pick up like the previous options, but you can still create objects with a simple double click and drag them around, add text, and insert images or embeds.

Mind you, this launched in the 2010s and has likely stayed that way ever since, which means that it may not have support for mobile phone displays, so whether or not you wanna try your hand at building something on there is completely up to you!

Sadgrl's Layout Editor

sadgrl.online is where I gathered most of these no-code site builders! I highly recommend looking through the webmaster links for more website-building info.

This simple site builder is for use on Neocities, which is a website hosting service that you can start using for free. This is the closest thing to building a site that resembles the early internet days, but the sites you can make are also responsive to mobile devices! This can be a good place to start if this kind of thing is your jam and you have little to no coding experience.

Although I will say, even if it sounds daunting at first, learning how to code in HTML and CSS is one of the most liberating experiences that anyone can have, even if you don't come from a website scripting background. It's like cooking a meal for yourself. So if you want to take that route, then I encourage to you at least try it!

Most of these website builders I reviewed were largely done at a glance, so I'm certainly missing out on how deep they can go.

Oh, and of course as always, Free Palestine 🇵🇸

[calciumcryptid]

Fuck it, We Are Internet Famous AU. Let's go-

After his grandfather passed, Q entered a major depressive episode. He was close with his grandfather, a famous artist, who taught him everything he knew. In a way, he was raised more by his grandfather than his parents (although they deeply loved him). Q retains his desire to paint, to make art, but now it is bittersweet and his grandfather's shadow hangs over every studio session.

He starts streaming to the core five group chat to try and get into the groove. Tan, perpetual recorder, recorded the streams. One night, while bored, Tan edited one with inside jokes and references the group found funny. After a collective viewing experience, Chain suggested uploading the video to YouTube and its how Q's YouTube channel (MaestroQ) was born.

Q has two channels. One is for edited down and planned content, while the other contains his live streams. He gains a bit of a reputation as a semi-anti Bob Ross due to his more sarcastic and snarky remarks despite remaining calm throughout. The live streams gain popularity because people use them to fall asleep, and the shorter videos are edited down down to a process-video and a condensed highlight reel. Art has become fun for Q again.

Meanwhile, Fang and Phum have become popular because they are rich and attractive young men who do some modeling on the side. It doesn't help Phum (accidentally) befriended royalty (Damn Beer) and a popular streamer known for gaming (Mick), which increased the brothers fame.

Matt is another popular streamer known for gaming and art streams, and Toey is his roommate who is known through association. The two have been roommates for years, and Toey crashes Matt's streams constantly (which lead to an iconic series where Matt makes Toey play horror games, except Toey is completely unaffected). Toey finds Q's painting streams relaxing and falls asleep to them.

Now where do the ships fit into this?

Simple: TanFang.

In this universe, TanFang met when they were adults, post-graduation. While I don't have the exact details, their first meeting comes about because Tan approaches Fang due to Fang being vaguely familiar to him. Naturally, Tan assumes Fang went to high school wit him and thought he should say hi. Fang didn't, and is displeased about being interrupted for the fifth time that week. Naturally, this leads to some punches being thrown.

Of course, they get passive aggressive about it.

[ Pun here! Q is sorry about the delay, but we had to take Tan to the doctor. He got punched. Don't worry! He is fine! While he is out of commission, I thought I'd show him up with my editing skills! :D ]

Phum makes a post about taking his older brother to the doctor, and Fang follows up about making a smooth recovery.

Tan and Fang end up having their followup checkups on the same day, where they figure out the misunderstanding. Fang offers to treat Tan to lunch since he was the aggressor, and Tan agrees. Soon they are texting everyday, and a month later they are dating.

They soft launch their relationship and everyone in Fang's comments are commenting about it being the "Maestro Q Editor Guy".

It was a moment in social media.

Out of protectiveness and curiosity, Phum looks up the channel Tan edits for. He watches a couple of videos, but doesn't get that far into the catalogue before he goes to play football with Tan. If Phum got a little farther in the catalogue, he might have seen Peem's little side series where he goes to scenic water locations and does landscape paintings alongside Q.

Instead, Phum finds out about Peem the canon way where he accidentally destroys a painting Q and Peem finished for a video (or maybe a video card). Q and Tan watch in awe as Peem loses it on Phum, kicking him in the nuts, then running off.

Cue more passive aggressive vague posting.

(I think it would be funny if Phum and Q had Internet beef but their fans were unable to figure out why. Randomly one day this accidental influencer and the painter started to quote tweet each other.)

At this point, Toey is friends with Fang and Phum (through MickMatt) and gasps when he realizes Phum is why the latest video has been delayed and bullies his pseudo-older brother into apologizing ("I had a restless night of sleep. Why would you do that to me? *lethal puppy eyes*"). Phum, begrudgingly, does through Tan. Peem mocks him a little ("Now was that so hard?") and says Phum will be forgiven if he helps Peem with a video idea.

Phum agrees ("Whatever you say gorgeous.") and Peem uses Phum as a model for a portrait. Afterwards, Phum asks Peem on a date ("Since I am forgiven, can I take you on a date? *lethal puppy eyes*). Peem agrees because he thought Phum wasn't serious only to be thoroughly swept off his feet. Phum can't stop taking pictures of Peem, and he hard launches Peem as his boyfriend. Peem is pretty, and people need to know Phum scored.

It was also a moment in social media.

Afterwards, Peem becomes fond of Toey, and it (finally) clicks for Toey that he can meet Q through Peem and Tan. Tan is ecstatic for their friend groups to officially meet, unaware of Toey's mission. At the meet-up, Toey harnesses the power of the sun directly at Q. Q, naturally, becomes romantically constipated about this.

Toey suggest Matt should do an art stream with Q, and Matt agrees. The live stream goes well, and Q leaves. Toey notices Q left his pencil box behind, and rushes to give it back. After staring at his pencil box for a bit, Q admits he knows Toey has feelings for him but he has never returned anyones romantic desire before (oh no, where did these demiromantic feelings come from?) and he doesn't know what to do. The two promise to take it slow together, and start dating.

Chain and Pun were the first ones who got together in this timeline, because the viewers picked up on the undertones between and it opened Pun's eyes to his feelings being returned.

Mick and Matt were the second couple to get together in this timeline, as they were online gaming rivals who were teamed-up at a convention's live gaming event. After they won, they started dating. Toey has never third-wheeled harder.

[atzjieun]

best jieun moments from wanteez

[text in bold brackets denotes editor’s comments]

WANTEEZ EP.2 — TRANSFER STUDENT

jieun is committed to the bit

Everyone conversed amongst themselves as they waited patiently for the next member to appear at the door. After about a minute, the sound of the door being slid open caused them all to look over. 

Jieun pushed the door out of her way, carrying her bookbag in one hand and a black designer purse in the other. Black sunglasses were perched upon her nose with a silver necklace dangling from her neck.

[Who is this new transfer student?]

“Woah, is she a celebrity?” Someone asked. With a slight smirk, Jieun closed the door behind her and made her way to the front of the class.

“Hello everybody, my name is Sophie Song and I’m from Seongnam, South Korea,” she announced confidently in English, eliciting some surprised noises from the rest of the class. “But you can call me Jieun.” 

“She seems to be really rich,” Jongho commented. “Hey, Jieun. What do your parents do for work?” 

Jieun sighed as she took off her sunglasses, inspecting them.  

“My father is the CEO of a huge company,” she said as she put them on her head. 

“And what is the name of the company?” Wooyoung asked.

[What will be this heiress’ answer..?]

With a straight face, Jieun turned to the boy and answered. 

“KQ Entertainment.” 

“Oh? Isn’t that company poor?” One of the other classmates asked, causing them all to burst into laughter, including Jieun. She quickly composed herself and shook her head. 

“No, he built it from the ground up,” Jieun said. “Now the company is worth millions.” 

“Of cents.” 

Sighing, Jieun just nodded, muttering a “Yeah, sure,” as she made her way to her seat. 

[Heiress has given up] 

WANTEEZ EP.4 — ZOMBIE VIRUS

jieun proving she holds ateez’s single braincell 

“I think that the human zombie might not know whether they’re the zombie or not,” Jongho said sincerely, his forehead wrinkled as he tried to think about who it could be.

“Alright, it’s Jongho,” Wooyoung concluded suddenly, clearly fighting off a smirk. “It’s definitely him.”

As the other members agreed, Jieun remained still, her gaze locked on seemingly nothing. 

[Song Ice lost in thought] 

After about a minute of silence from the girl, Jieun suddenly looked up. Her eyebrows were raised as she brought herself to her feet. 

“It’s San.” The others turned to her in confusion, while the accused boy widened his eyes.

“What- me?” 

Jieun nodded and turned to him. 

“They said that the human zombie doesn’t get bitten, but when the Fever Time happened for the first time, all the zombies went towards me except for one who went to San. Wouldn’t more of them have gone to him because he was closer?” Her gaze cut into him like a knife, eyes narrowed. “And he didn’t have a big reaction when one of the zombies hugged him, but he usually would.”

[Good point…]

“I was so scared, honestly— I felt like I was frozen,” San explained earnestly, putting a hand over his heart. 

“But also,” Jieun said, still staring at him. “When all three of us were in the classroom, you were again closer to the zombie but instead he attacked Yunho.” 

At this, Yunho spoke up. “Although, San was kind of off to the side and the zombie was already walking towards me, so I think that’s why.” 

“And we all know that San is really a scaredy cat,” Yeosang added. “So I’m not surprised he froze.” 

Wooyoung just shook his head. “I still think we should vote Jongho out.”

“Me too,” agreed Hongjoong. 

“Yeah, same.”

Jieun looked around at her members for some confirmation, but it looked like everyone had already made up their minds. Her mouth straightened into a flat line as she looked directly at the camera with a tired look on her face. 

[…but it falls on deaf ears]

She let out a sigh, shrugging as she sat back down, “Alright, if that’s what the majority decides.”  

[Jieun-ah… fighting?] 

WANTEEZ EP.7 — FRIENDSHIP TEST

a (not so) rare moment of ateez adoring their youngest member turns into a jieun exposee 

“Now for our youngest, lovely Jieun!” Hongjoong announced. The girl smiled as she walked to the center, waiting for her song. 

[Patiently waiting…] 

“Ah-“ Jieun said, smiling when the pre-chorus Seventeen’s “Snap Shoot” started playing. She mouthed the lyrics for the rap section before starting the choreo. The other members cheered as she danced, even more so during the post-chorus where, on every “chal-kak”, Jieun struck a pose. First was a big heart, then she turned and blew a kiss towards the members, who all clutched their hearts. San even fell to the ground. 

[Jieun receiving lots of love from her brothers] 

When the music stopped, Jieun bowed to the camera before quickly retreating to her spot, using her hands to cover her face in embarrassment. 

“Our Jieunie is so cute,” Wooyoung said as he tried pinching her cheeks, but Jieun just pushed him away. Witnessing this, Jongho spoke up.

“You know, Jieun always acts like she hates aegyo but I think she secretly enjoys doing it.” The others nodded in agreement. 

“She’s so good at it too,” Mingi agreed. 

“Sometimes I see her practicing her aegyo at home,” Yeosang added. Everyone began laughing as Jieun’s eyebrows raised. She turned to the boy accusingly.

“I have never practiced aegyo before,” Jieun said, waving her hand at the camera crew, all of  whom looked amused. “That’s just a lie.” Seonghwa nodded in agreement. 

“I believe Jieunie,” he said. Jieun was relieved that someone was on her side, but the relief quickly dissipated as the oldest went on. “She wouldn’t need to practice aegyo because she’s naturally cute.” 

At that, the others started giggling, while Jieun simply stared at Seonghwa with her ice-cold gaze. 

[Song Ice is back]

WANTEEZ EP.10 — HEALTH CHECK-UP 

jieun’s state after waking up while being high on anesthesia

“Oh, Jieunie’s awake?” Seonghwa asked, raising his eyebrows. 

Yunho immediately stood up, grinning. “Let’s go visit her.” 

A few of the members made their way to the recovery room, careful as they filed inside so as to not make any noise. Jieun was laid on one of the beds, the blanket wrapped over her body and around her head so that you could only see her face. 

“Cute,” Seonghwa said with a soft smile when he saw her.

“Who’s there?” Jieun muttered. She raised her head slightly and opened one eye, smiling when she saw the others standing there. “Oh, hi oppas.” 

[Too cute to handle] 

The members that had walked into the room immediately started smiling, some even turning away to hide their reddening faces. Jieun let out a small yawn as she curled into a tighter ball. 

“I’m glad you’re all here,” she said, closing her eyes again. “Thank you for taking care of me. Let’s all be happy and healthy in the new year, ok?” 

[The real Song Ice, everybody] 

“Yes, Jieunie,” Yunho said as he patted her head. “Take care of yourself too, ok?” Jieun hummed in response, giving a small nod before resting her head down again. 

“Jieun-ah, good night.” Wooyoung bent down, giving the girl a small peck on the head. He grinned as he stood up straight, causing Yeosang to laugh. 

“If Jieun wasn’t high right now, she would’ve stared at you like she was going to attack.”  

A clip of Jieun’s death glare from a previous episode plays

[A look that will curse the next 10 Jung generations]

“Let’s let her rest,” Seonghwa suggested. He turned, using his arms to quietly usher everyone out of the room. 

WANTEEZ EP.21 – DRINK TOUR

jieun being the only sober (kinda) member + scaring Wooyoung into sobriety 

Jieun watched in amusement as the other members yelled at each other, the chain not having yet gotten to her. As she waited, she reached over and grabbed a water bottle from the edge of the table, taking a quick drink for herself before grabbing an empty glass and pouring some out. She turned and handed the glass to San beside her, whose face had gotten significantly redder in the last three minutes since the yelling game had started. 

At first he refused, thinking it was more alcohol, but Jieun shook her head. 

“Don’t worry, it’s water,” she said. “Now drink.” San nodded, gratefully taking the glass from her hand and drinking it all in one gulp. She took the glass back from him, using her other hand to rub circles on his back. 

[Thoughtful Jieunie]

Unfortunately for her, Wooyoung saw the kind gesture and started complaining. 

“Hey, why are you only taking care of him?” 

[Burning with jealousy]

Jieun snapped her gaze towards him, staring at Wooyoung so intensely that he began shrinking into his seat. 

“Ah… I’m sorry.” 

The other members started laughing as Wooyoung looked down in embarrassment, quickly grabbing a glass and downing another shot. Jieun chuckled, shaking her head as she grabbed the water bottle and handed it to him. 

“I don’t think Wooyoung’s drunk anymore,” Mingi said, laughing. 

The shoot continued, Jieun occasionally pouring more glasses of water and forcing the other members to drink them in between shots. She took a few shots here and there, but mainly focused on making sure the members with low alcohol tolerance (re: San) didn’t drink anymore. 

“Hey, Jieun,” Wooyoung said when she refilled his glass of water. “Did you even drink anything tonight?” 

“Of courth I did,” she replied, eyes wide.

Jongho laughed, raising his eyebrows. “What’s with that pronunciation?” 

She looked over at him, bringing her pointer finger up to her lips to shush him. At that moment, San let out a loud yawn. He swayed side to side before eventually falling onto Jieun’s shoulder. She moved slightly, adjusting herself so that he could fully lay down and rest his head on her lap.  

“That’s how you know she’s drunk,” Yunho said, observing the whole interaction. “She’s not fighting him off.” 

Jieun just blinked at him before letting out a sigh. She turned her head to the front and stared straight at the camera with a tired expression. 

[Jieun-ah… fighting?] 

[pneuma-themes]

Theme #07: Clio by @pneuma-themes

Where you walk, my dearest friend, fate shall surely follow.

Live Preview (Temporary) / Static Preview: [Index] [Permalink] / Get the code: [pastebin] [github]

This is intended to be a fansite! I am finally happy with how this turned out after a few iterations. This theme features Emet-Selch from Final Fantasy XIV. Be warned going into the live preview as this theme heavily features content that can be found on various points of Shadowbringers and Endwalker, which may or may not be a spoiler!

Features:

Customizable post widths and font sizes. The live preview uses 650px post width and 13px font size. Enter the desired post width on the post width field and the desired font size on the font size field on the Customization page.

One accent color, 7 color options

Option for title alignment (centered/lefthand side/righthand side) to accommodate for the chosen header image.

Option to display or hide the blog title.

Built-in dual sidebar layout. All the boxes on the sidebar (members, events, updates, and site info) and the footer (disclaimer, about, and search box) can be edited from the code directly.

5 custom links at the topbar with additional 8 links on the navigation box.

Customizable photoset gutter. The live preview uses 10px gutter.

A header image. The size of the header (w x h) is the width of your screen x 350px. So if your screen width is 1900px, then the size of your header should be 1900 x 350px.

Notes:

This theme uses @eggdesign's NPF reverse-compatible template. Everything should be working as expected, except for some things noted below.

As we slowly transition into the new editor, posts made by the legacy editor will eventually break. This is particularly evident in a quote post reblogged via the new editor, in which the post will be rendered as a text post with blockquote and cannot be styled similarly to a legacy quote post. This is a Tumblr bug as far as I am concerned and from what other people have told me, so unfortunately there is nothing I can do about it.

I've written a short guide on how to set up this theme here. Everything else is annotated in the code, so do read through them before shooting me an ask!

Credits:

NPF reverse-compatible template: @eggdesign

Header: ユズリコ❂ (yuzuriko_red @ Twitter)

Icon font: Phosphor Icons

Icons (affiliates, members) and toggle tags on click: @alydae

Fonts: Nunito, Merriweather @ Google Fonts

customAudio.js: @annasthms

photoset.css with lightbox: @annasthms and @eggdesign

Search box, minified spotify player: @glenthemes

Toggle-able tumblr controls: @seyche

Shorten note count: @shythemes

Responsive video script: @nouvae

Please like and reblog if you like this theme or are using it!

[mendelpalace]

The “Illustrated Fantasy Book Guide” is a magazine-format book (or mook) released in 1989 by the publisher of ファミコン必勝本 “Famicon Winning Book”, an NES gaming magazine. The mook lists 37 works of fantasy originally written in English except for “Ficciones” by Borges. The editors of “Famicon Winning Book” were fond of the Wizardry port to the NES, which is my explanation for their interest in this stuff. In any case, they created the best Appendix N so to speak of fantasy translated into Japanese that I have yet found. The Japanese titles are provided below to aid the online searches of would-be buyers.

Images/Text courtesy of Japanese Tabletop RPG

I wish I could find a complete set of scans for this book!

Full list of books featured under the cut.

The Lord of the Rings 指輪物語 Earthsea Trilogy ゲド戦記 Chronicles of Narnia ナルニア国ものがたり Conan コナン・シリーズ The Worm Ouroboros ウロボロス The Wood Beyond the World 世界のかなたの森 Lilith リリス Nine Princess in Amber アンバーの九王子 The King of Elfland’s Daughter エルフランドの王女 Gormenghast Trilogy ゴーメンガスト Magic Kingdom for Sale-Sold! 魔法の王国売ります! The Chronicles of Castle Brass ブラス城年代記 Night’s Master 闇の公子 A Voyage to Arcturus アルクトゥルスへの旅 The Princess Bride プリンセス・ブライド Witch World ウィッチ・ワールド A Spell for Chameleon カメレオンの呪文 The Last Unicorn 最後のユニコーン At the Mountains of Madness 狂気の山脈にて Swords and Deviltry ファファード＆グレイ・マウザー The White Hart アイルの書 She 洞窟の女王 Charmed Life 魔女集会通り26番地 Darkover Series ダーコーヴァ年代記 The Riddle-Master of Hed イルスの竪琴 The Sorcerer’s Ship 魔法つかいの船 Dragonlance Chronicles ラゴンランス戦記 Pawn of Prophecy ベルガリアード物語 Dragon Flight パーンの竜騎士 The Lion of Boaz-Jachin and Jachin-Boaz ボアズ＝ヤキンのライオン Momo モモ The Magic Goes Away 魔法の国が消えていく Magician リフトウォー・サーガ The Ship of Ishtar イシュタルの船 Tea with the Black Dragon 黒龍とお茶を Ficciones 伝奇集 Dandelion Wine たんぽぽのお酒

[seeingteacupsindragons]

A Glossary of Commonly Confused/Misused Terms, Writer Edition

Alpha reader: Someone who reads along as you write a first draft of something to cheer you along and gas you up while you work. Sometimes they also provide suggestions of where to go or otherwise comment on what they’d like to see happen.

Beta reader: The writing equivalent of a beta tester. This is not someone who generally edits anything or tries to “fix” the story. They read and note how they feel and react to various things in the story so the writer can decide if it’s a “glitch” to fix. When I myself use these, I actually prefer they not be writers and in my target audience, because that’s the perspective I’m seeking for live reactions. Fanfiction betas tend to incorporate roles below this point because fanfiction is often a more casual environment with fewer people looking over the writing.

Proofreader: Prooooobably not what you think they do. A proofreader reads proofs. A proof is basically a “test” copy or a version of something. When you reformat a book from Scrivener or a Word document or Google Docs or whatever you wrote it in to something you can actually print as book-shaped or upload it as, sometimes weird things happen. A proofreader will compare these versions/formats to ensure that new formatting/file type/etc. didn’t mess up anything that actually matters. If you’re hired as a proofreader, you don’t usually edit anything (unless your employer is wildly misusing the term). These are not people who fix grammar or punctuation. They check for changes and to make sure everything came out the way it should have.

Copyeditor: What you probably think a proofreader does. Someone who edits copy. What is copy? Text, basically. Copyeditors edit grammar and punctuation and align the writing to whatever style guide is being used for some text and ensure the copy is clear and understandable. If they’re editing your voice regularly, they’re probably overstepping, but they will often suggest rearranging sentences or punctuating them differently. Professionally, this is a promotion from proofreading.

Developmental editors: People who suggest edits to the actual story—not word choices or grammar, but feedback on plot points and structure and characters arcs and how the story is being told and how it can be fixed. They are editing the story’s development. They provide what is called an "edit letter" that outlines changes to various aspects of the story.

Acquiring editors: The people who agree to buy your book at publishing companies. They usually do a dev editor’s job as well, but often specifically with an eye to making it more saleable.

Critique partner: A fellow writer with whom you exchange your writing for editing. Exactly what this entails depends on the people involved and what each wants, but this is someone who gives feedback on the book before an editor sees it and suggests how to fix the story as written. They can be any combination of the above terms depending on the partnership (except acquiring editors; they don't do that). Typically this will stray into developmental editing on some level.

[vintagerpg]

While I have a special affection for Jason Eckhardt’s work, it would be unfair to look at Necronomicon Press and not give some love to their other prolific house artist, Robert H. Knox. As luck would have it, he did all the art on the Clark Ashton Smith chapbooks — some of my all time Necropress faves.

Again, these feel important for their time. When I was getting into weird fiction in the early '90s, I had easy access to most of the important authors. The exception? Clark Ashton Smith. His dedicated collections were all out of print and scarce and a serious effort at definitive collection of his work didn’t get underway until the five-volume set from Nightshade, begun in 2007. Until then, it was the occasional anthologized story, or Necropress chapbooks.

Most of these represent efforts by series editor Steve Behrends to issue corrected texts of stories that better reflect CAS’ intentions. Xeethra (1988) is a melancholy Zothique story that weird tales deemed too poetic. Mother of Toads (1993), an Averoigne story, was too erotic. The Vaults of Yoh-Vombis (1993) is a tale of Mars that was heavily revised for print, which CAS was unhappy about. Another Martian tale, The Dweller in the Gulf (1993) was so tampered with that CAS stopped writing fiction for a time. The Hashish-Eater (1989) is a lengthy, cosmic poem, unbothered by editors during its author’s lifetime.

Knox’s covers are fantastic, but holy wow those interior illustrations for The Hashish-Eater are something else. Dripping, psychedelic vistas fit for Troika. I’ve loved flipping through this one for over three decades.

[makerofmadness]

itai itai no SICK SICK - a Cookie Run fanfic

(I spent like two months writing this whole thing lol. If you're wondering how long this is: I hit the text block limit [it's 1,000 in one post btw] and lagged out the post editor and my phone started heating up)

Warning for Heavy Angst & Whump, Hurt/Comfort, as in "a crap ton of hurt but eventually things get better"

Inspired by the song ベノム by Kairiki Bear (title comes from the lyrics)

Starring: Alchemist Cookie ft. Vampire Cookie and others

(Note: some implied Sparkvamp. Doesn't really go any further than the games themselves, though, so I didn't think it was worth tagging as ship but thought it was worth warning for)

TW: Alcoholism (or whatever Vampire is), (Self-Inflicted) Poisoning, Self-Harm (Via Poisoning), Suicidal Themes, (Cookiefied) Hematemesis

(Please tell me if more should be added to the TW, I will update accordingly)

Cover drawn by @driftwoodmfb (background by Nou/from the song's MV) and thanks to my friend @/sleep.starvedd from discord for the writing advice for one scene. And thanks to literally all my friends who read this before it was finished (@softichill @boom-fanfic-a-latta @organichotchoco and also @cosmoknightchaos who wasn't even in this fandom) couldn't have made it without ya.

(Story under the cut. Enjoy)

Grape juice.

She couldn't escape the smell of it within her home. Every day, every time she walked anywhere except for her room/lab, and especially any time she saw her own brother.

Alchemist Cookie's existence was less happy than it would've seemed from the outside, or than she really preferred to present it to others. And it all came down to one thing:

Vampire Cookie.

Embarrassing, was it not? How much he relied on her, his little sister, to keep him healthy, to keep the house tidy, to keep him together. He didn't ever take care of her, she wondered if he'd even notice if she were to ever fall sick and need taking care of, or if he'd just be happy to have that awful nagging away from him, as if she didn't nag with a purpose. 

As if he'd even have a long enough attention span to look after her. 

Ugh.

She shook the thought out of her head as she sat down at the table for dinner, alone. Vampire Cookie has gone out that night- he was always either at home or at Sparkling Cookie's juice bar, it was a struggle to get him to go anywhere else. She was half-considering calling Sparkling Cookie just to beg him to send her brother home, but she knew that would be unreasonable to ask of him like that.

Sparkling Cookie was nice. She liked Sparkling Cookie. He was kind to her; he showed her how to mix drinks once and she tried to apply that skill to her alchemy sometimes. She saw him too often. She somewhat resented him too. She would've resented him more if she hadn't met him.

It wasn't fun having to be called over so often, to pick her own brother up like that, to shoulder him home as he'd confusedly ramble about this and that, as he'd seem to have forgotten who she was...

It hurt. She felt sick just thinking about it.

It'd come back to him, it always did. He promised he always forgot everything from time to time like that, the times he'd forgotten his own name still scared her, but that he'd never really forget her.

She didn't believe it. One day he wouldn't see her every day, and then he wouldn't remember her when he sobered up. One day he'd be around and she wouldn't be. His lifespan would outlast hers. That was what little she really understood of his condition. And how she resented it.

She didn't really understand her brother and how he operated. She worried for his health as he seemed to only consume grape juice some days, and seemed bored or averse of normal sustenance. She tried everything in her power to get anything good into his diet, despite his resistance.

"I don't need that stuff, sis," he'd always tell her, "all I need is grape juice. That's what keeps me going."

She couldn't help but worry for him. He never seemed to worsen despite his diet being built on what should've been unstable grounds- the opposite was the case, actually: he was considered quite the strong and ethereally handsome Cookie by most. He was popular, he had many treasures, and nothing ever seemed to get to him. Everything was well with his life. "Cheers to a wonderful life!" He'd say sometimes.

Was she an afterthought, or did he just not see her distress?

As a Cookie, he was many things: Carelessfree. Unaffected by her pain. An immortal being who would outlive her.

Who would take care of him after that?

She had only ever talked about this to him once. And he told her she was "too young to start thinking about mortality." She was still what would be considered too young for that. But how could she not? Life was at alchemy's center, and her brother was an immortal vampire who would definitely outlive her.

And yet here she was, still trying to make him eat his vegetables because it was 'good for him' or make him go to check-ups with Dr. Bones Cookie because he was too lazy to bother going out that far for something without a promise of juice. He didn't need any of this. She really did know it deep down. But she kept doing it anyway.

She would never dare say it, but maybe deep down she just wanted to pretend he was normal.

...Her brother probably would've crumbled from juice overdose by now if he had been normal.

From that poison he sustained himself on.

But the alternative would've been...

She picked at her plate, having lost her appetite suddenly. She much preferred devoting as much time and energy as possible to shutting herself away in her lab, away from her brother and the grape juice smell that came off of his very dough, and endlessly researching and experimenting until he found his way in somehow and made her stop pushing herself so hard. Her life's work had been researching Life Potions. Her Life's work had been to extend her own lifespan

She got up from the table, leaving her plate untouched. Perhaps Vampire Cookie would just eat it for her. She knew he wouldn't bother. He didn't typically bother with normal Cookie meals, when he did it was either to please her, to participate with a group, to look normal at events, or for the flavor. He wouldn't be eating a random salad by himself.

...she decided to go over to the phone and make a call. To a number she had to have memorized by now:

"...hello? Sparkling Cookie? Yes, it's Alchemist Cookie, I was just wondering if my brother is going to come home soon... ... ...A party, huh? Well... Whatever. Just- If you don't mind me asking, could you, uh... cut him off sooner rather than later tonight...? I'm just- you see, I might be busy tonight, so I'd prefer it if he could come home by himself tonight, safely... ... ...Thank you. I knew you'd understand. Have a nice night."

She put the phone back on the wall and began walking away, but felt... hollow.

Of course he'd have gone to a party without telling her anything. It wasn't as if she'd be worried sick if he came home late...

Maybe he'd come home sooner if he couldn't have more, though...

Whatever. It didn't matter. He always had more lying around, anyway. In the cellar, or in his room, or in the kitchen, or wherever he could store it. He'd even tried to use her vials, more than once...

And then he'd just lie around and do nothing with her. They never really spent time together, it felt. Sometimes they'd go out and do things, social events and the like, but she craved something personal. Meaningful.

For their entire existence, had they ever really just hung out? One time, she had done a favor for Cherry Cookie, and said cookie had talked all about her plans that day with her sister, Cherry Blossom Cookie. Those two had been planning to go on a picnic together that day. And hearing about those plans, all Alchemist Cookie had thought was: Why didn't MY sibling do that with me...?

She sat down on the couch- and looking at the furniture she started to feel ashamed for not being happy. While she had specifically made sure that their home looked normal enough, it very obviously showed through that they had... more than average to spend, with how nice everything looked, shining and sparkling even within the dim lighting of most rooms.

She didn't know where he got it all from.

He didn't have to work, and she was more interested in her passions, and her working options were limited at her age anyway. No one made any money, really-

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, and a voice shouting for her:

"ALCHEMIST COOKIE~!!"

Before she even had the opportunity to say a word or leave the room, a certain fanged Cookie slumped in. She could smell the grape juice saturating his dough. She suppressed a gag. That smell had gotten stronger than usual. She could even see a stain on his coat.

...she wasn't surprised.

"So- *hiccup* 'scuse me-" he plopped himself down next to her, while she just tried to stare off onto space. She had better things to occupy her mind with, things that her brother wasn't interested in in the slightest except for maybe that one time. She'd just escape into her mind while her body would stand in until he either had his fill of rambling to her about 'the wonders of taking breaks' or-

"Sparkling Cookie said you called him, eh...?"

Her jam ran cold. Even though he had no anger in his voice.

"..." she avoided looking at him, knowing that the best she could really say was the truth, "I-I just- you see... I was going to go work in my lab, but I... wasn't expecting you to be home this soon-"

"I mean, duh. No juice, no Vampire Cookie."

He didn't even stick around just to talk to his friends...?

"But, why's that the issue...?"

"..." Was he really that oblivious? "If you had too much, I would have to help you come home... but if I'm working, then I won't be at the phone, so I won't even know-"

"Oh, I see: You're worried about me, aren't ya?"

She was torn between two responses: 'Yes. All the time. Every day. And I don't know how much longer I can take it for.' And 'Worried that you'll try to come home yourself anyway and end up in some stupid or dangerous or stupidly dangerous situation, yes.'

Both went unsaid. Instead, just:

"Yes."

"Awww, you know what I always tell you, sis..."

Vampire Cookie leaned into his sister, affectionately wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer to him. The warmth and love of a familial embrace could no longer reach her.

"Don't worry about everything so much! It'd do you wonders to-"

"How can I not?? I never asked to have to look after my big brother, just because HE can't put down the STUPID JUICE GLASS-"

She immediately slapped her hand over her mouth. That wasn't supposed to come out.

"..."

"...I-I'm going to my lab."

She got up with her brother's arm giving away from her surprisingly easily, given that he was usually slightly stronger than average, and walked away without looking back. 

She didn't even see the look on his face. But she could care less.

Alchemist Cookie just walked away, practically without thought, her legs carrying her all the way to the door to her lab. As she entered and shut it behind her, however, she suddenly lost her will to carry on.

...

Oh. Her eyes had sprung a leak. Embarrassing.

Alone, nothing and no one to grant her solace, something dark within her mind that had been brewing for a long time began to concoct an idea out of festered, fermented emotions:

If he was going to nourish himself on poison every day, she thought:

Two could play at that game.

It took about a week to gather the ingredients. In that time, somewhere deep down, she had been hoping that something would happen to change her mind. It was a decent amount of time, she thought, looking at the grand scheme of her pathetically short existence. 

But nothing did. In fact, she only had her current thoughts affirmed.

Not by any change, but by a lack thereof: by stagnation. 

By that stagnant grape juice her life had been drowned by.

She couldn't even really focus on or enjoy her work anymore because whenever she tried to get 'in the zone,' her thoughts would always go back to her brother.

One day, which she had spent almost entirely in her lab, her brother came home from the bar- not by himself, but being shouldered by his acquaintance Cinnamon Cookie- who interrupted her planning just to inform her that her brother was home. The nerve of that Cookie. (...she had to have gotten a call, right? She didn't leave her lab the whole day, so...)

"*sigh* How much did Vampire Cookie drink...?"

"...uh- N-nobody knows..."

"...ugh. Whatever."

No one ever kept track.

Days went by and her brother was none-the-wiser to what she was planning. Despite all the time he spent at home...

She had a hard time keeping him out of her room, though. She couldn't lock the door to her lab, so he'd always get in. But her reagent-gathering was sporadic and unplanned, she had nothing written down...

Then came the day she finally decided that she was ready.

This would be the perfect concoction. Acridly flavored. She was turning it into an experimental melting pot, a pot of completely random reagents. Not really. She was very much aiming for the most toxic ingredients she had as she grabbed them from around the room. With the test subject being herself. 

By the end, once she'd had enough of tossing things in the pot, she watched the final color end up as a vivid pink. The mixture had bubbled and fizzed during the mixing process, but now it was... completely still.

Deathly still.

It was almost tranquil, the way it sat. She stared at it for a moment, before scooping some of it into an empty flask she had laying around.

She swished it around a little, staring blankly. Nothing changed about it.

Whatever this nocuous cocktail would do, it wouldn't be anything good for her...

She knew this would be it. This would show him. He'd finally understand. This would teach him a lesson.

She wanted to -------

She slowly took the flask up to her lips.

Bottoms up.

Immediately she felt it burn as it rushed down her throat.

It hurt. It tasted foul. She made sure to get down every last drop, swallowing a steady stream of death-

Something inside her told her to spit it out. But she was set, she refused to go back: She would show him. 

Once she'd gulped it all down, she put the flask down on her work table. Already she could feel the effects: A stomachache was setting in, she felt incredibly nauseous and dizzy, a pain began to burn her chest from the inside, her eyes began to spill water and something buried within her once-logical mind was still yelling at her SPIT IT OUT-

But she couldn't. It was far too late for that.

There was no going back.

~~~

She staggered out of her room with an aching sensation filling every inch of her dough. Her head especially was beginning to throb with pain- but really, her entire body was in general agony.

Her head was spinning, to the point she was starting to see double, and this combined with the sudden shortness of her breath that she couldn't tell if it was just her panicking or if it had been yet another effect of her concoction made walking to the living room take...

She didn't know how long.

The numbers on the clock, she couldn't read them anymore. She couldn't recognize them. She couldn't process any of them. 

Her head hurt even more trying to do so.

But she eventually found her way in, and, after further difficulty bumping into the furniture, finally managed to sit herself down.

She lay back on the sofa, but even cessation of action did nothing to make breathing an easier task. She could feel her heart beating in her head chest. It was speaking over her reason. Shouting over it.

'Why even bother sitting out here? You know he's not going to notice. Even if he does, he won't be concerned. Get to work; Be productive with your time at least...'

She shook any thought from her mind the moment her brother came into the room. She felt too weak to even spend the energy talking to him, she wasn't even sure if she would be able to get a coherent word out anyway, but surely he'd at least ask how she was doing. And then when she didn't answer, he'd look at her, and then he'd notice something was wrong-

But he just walked on by.

He said something, but she couldn't focus on the words. And it didn't change the fact that he just left the room anyway.

(Maybe it sounded like "Love ya, sis" but she couldn't tell. She wouldn't have believed it, anyway.)

That woefully familiar miasma of grape juice hit her senses, worsening that already overwhelming nausea of hers. Stronger than ever. Or was it the same as usual...? Everything just felt worse like this...

'...what a joke. He just walked right past you. He probably didn't even realize you're here. He probably forgot you again.'

The leaks were back, gushing, overflowing- and she didn't have the energy to fix them. Agonizing all alone, with this toxin eating away at her system...

If it didn't crumble her tonight, she'd try again tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. And over and over again until he finally noticed that something was wrong...

She slept unrestfully that night, and even though the effects of the concoction had mostly subsided by the afternoon when she woke up, she still felt tired.

She planned her routine out from there: Every day, once she woke up (frustratingly, it was already difficult to keep to her usual schedule), she would immediately take a drink of the poison before she even went to eat breakfast. She'd then just let the day play out as she rapidly grew ill, and see if her brother ever asked about her health.

He didn't ask her. One day, two days, three days- she seldom spoke to him, as he'd be either in his room lazing around or indulging in the one thing he cared about in the world, or at Sparkling Cookie's- and she was just exuberant to see the look on his and Vampire Cookie's faces the inevitable day she'd come in to do her usual 'nag-and-drag' routine and at best not even have the physical strength to get her brother off the floor and at worst-

'You could crumble right in front of him and he wouldn't say a thing. He doesn't care about you. He's NEVER cared about you.'

She didn't care anymore.  That night, though- her brother staggered home with his arm over another Cookie's shoulder again. This time, however, it was Sparkling Cookie himself who accompanied the drunken Cookie through the door.

She didn't know this until the two of them walked into the living room, where she was leaning over the left side of the couch trying not to pass out from exhaustion.

"Oh. Well, hello there, Alchemist Cookie!" Sparkling Cookie smiled at her with a warmth that she couldn't feel.

"He-ey, lil sis! *hic*" Vampire Cookie gave a loose, lazy wave. "How ya doin???"

Alchemist Cookie didn't want to speak to either of them. Tiredness was the bulk of the reason, she really hadn't vocalized much at all in the past few days since her experiment had begun, but really what could she have said to either of these Cookies?

Sparkling Cookie. The Cookie that ran the juice bar. The Cookie that called her on the phone at bare minimum three times per week just to pick her brother up from said juice bar. The Cookie who did nothing but serve that disgusting, baneful juice. 

She really resented Sparkling Cookie.

And her brother... 

Immediately flopped himself next to her, as close as possible, forcing her to take in that grossly prominent grape juice smell, as if it weren't hard enough to breathe already. And lovingly, he started clinging to her side by the arm, practically leaning all of his weight into her as if he hadn't been a heavy enough burden-

His body was as cold as always. She knew to expect that from him. She was always prepared to feel that. And normally the physical cold was easy to ignore thanks to the emotional warmth. But she just couldn't feel that anymore...

She was so, so cold.

"Alchemist Cookie? You're shivering... are you alright?" Sparkling Cookie looked at her carefully and with concern, coming closer to her. She couldn't get up. "You look... unwell..."

...

She tried to say something, but all she could get out were wheezing breaths and a hacking cough she couldn't cover up.

Sparkling Cookie put his hand to her forehead. She didn't have the energy to get it away.

"Hmmm... you're not burning up, but you sure look sick. And you sound sick, too..."

"Yeeeeaaaahhhh... ya look kinda funny..."

Her brother's face was practically pressed into hers as his spacey eyes made direct contact with hersand she hoped he would notice how they had dulled to lifelessness by now as she turned her head too, and even just that caused her a splitting headache that she did her best to ignore because she wasn't going to let Sparkling Cookie see that.

"...eh, doesn't look like much. Looks like Alchemist Cookie like always. *hiccup* You're fiiiiiiine~ It's whateeeeeeever~"

He didn't notice. He didn't care.

Sparkling Cookie sighed and pried Vampire Cookie from her, gently but still causing her pain yet again. Vampire Cookie just leaned to the other side of the couch, oblivious just as he always was.

"Don't be a buzzkill, Sparkling Cookie!! *hiccup* I was all nice and comfy right there... Can't a Cookie just give his lil sis a hug in peace?? What's this world come to... *sigh*"

The look on Sparkling Cookie's face seemed disappointed but unsurprised before his attention shifted back to Alchemist Cookie:

"Thank goodness it was a slow day at the bar tonight. There's no way Vampire Cookie would be able to take care of you like this..."

If he was implying what she thought he was implying, then she wished she could just get up and run away, but she knew the air would leave her faster than it could get to her.

She didn't want him hanging around her house. Her brother had enough access to grape juice already. She wasn't going to let him have the idea of bringing bar nights into their house. She already couldn't escape them normally.

She just barely scraped together enough energy to shake her head, weakly. She tried to get up, now that her brother was off of her and couldn't weigh her down.

The dizziness set in immediately as she could barely find balance in her feet, waving her arms around trying to find a support-

Sparkling Cookie's hands approached to help stabilize her, but she slapped them away before they could make contact. Purposefully.

"A-Alchemist Cookie, let me help you to your room, please. You're clearly too weak to stand on your own..."

As she tottered towards the wall to lean against it, she glared back at him and tried to mouth her answer: 

I want you gone.

She knew he could lip-read decently enough. She knew the way she mouthed it was obvious enough.

She didn't care.

She saw his feelings on his face. In his eyes. The shock, confusion, worry. Hurt. She didn't feel bad. Not for the barkeep that drove her and her brother only further apart. Maybe a little, for the mixologist that'd always bring out some set of old alchemy textbooks from the back when she needed to hang around, that she'd practically had memorized from the amount of times she'd read them all front to back. She turned away before staggering over to the hallway. 

"G'nighty night, sis~, don't *hic* don't let the... what's the sayin again? Whatever, sweet dreams..."

She turned in early that night. She didn't have anything better to do anyway. She couldn't do anything else like this. She couldn't do alchemy anymore. But she didn't care.

She was beginning to accept the struggle to sit up or even just to open her eyes in the morning, the way her vision would still be so blurry and unfocused even after putting her glasses on that she wasn't certain they were even on her face, the lingering aches and pains that hung over every moment...

"...Alchemist Cookie...? Alchemist Cookie!"

This wasn't part of the routine.

She had been sitting there at the edge of her bed for who-knows-how-long likely a minute before she realized a voice she knew all too well was inside her room.

Vampire Cookie.

She looked over to see him leaning with his back to the side of her cauldron pot, holding one of her vials.

She just barely mustered the words with airy breaths in-between: "Wh-what are... you doing... up... this ear...ly!?" 

"Uhhh... first of all, it's 4 in the afternoon." He walked to her as she sulked in place without energy to move. "Second of all, Sparkling Cookie told me that last night, he noticed you were feeling... more than a little under-the-weather. So I came in here to check on you, and I saw... whatever that is."

He pointed over to the cauldron. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Well, I looked at it and thought that maybe you'd finally made more of that wonderful pink juice that you'd kept insisting was 'just an accident' and 'you didn't have the recipe for.' So, I couldn't help but have a little drink..."

Ah, yes, the 'Pink Juice Incident.' The one that had dyed most of the kingdom pink with love. She had been so confused that night when both her brother and Sparkling Cookie came and started thanking her profusely for "that delicious rosé juice" and "the boost in business for the day." That was the first time Sparkling Cookie had ever been over at their home. (And she wished the two of them could've been a little less... excessively romantic.)

...but her brother had been so sweet that night. When he wasn't rambling on and on about how debonair Sparkling Cookie looked in pink, he was giving her a pat on the head or saying about five times total "cheers to my brilliant sister and her alchemy!" despite no one else raising a glass with him, and she'd felt all warm and fuzzy on the inside...

It almost made her wish, in some deep selfish recess of her mind, that she could make it again. Just so he would praise her some more. She craved that validation.

...but she couldn't. And even if she could, she wouldn't. She couldn't poison him like that just for her own needs.

Wait...

He drank the poison...? He drank her concoction!?

The look on his face changed from pleasant reminiscence to light disgust.

"But that stuff tastes awful...! What did you even put in there?"

...of course he wouldn't be affected. Her potions never worked on him. Even when she wanted them to.The 'Pink Juice' affecting him was only a result of how haphazard that entire concoction had been.

She had once sought out to transmute her brother alchemically, to create some kind of potion that could eliminate that listless juice addiction of his. And yet none of them ever worked on anything but a normal Cookie.

There was that one time his personality seemingly inverted out of nowhere, where he started dressing and acting like her for a few days and even researching alchemy (...seemingly), that she never got an explanation for, until she came up with a potion to put him back to normal...

No. She knew her potions wouldn't have suddenly started working on him. She made all her concoctions with the reference of how to affect a normal Cookie, all the way down to composition. He wasn't normal. She had a whole pile of failed attempts at a working Flavor Reversal Potion by the end of her prior experiments in futility, after all. And she used them as the basis for the cure.

...in which case, she certainly couldn't have 'fixed him' by the end of it when he encroached on her field, so how did he return to normal...?

...

Had he really just been messing with her the whole time...?

She'd somewhat started to appreciate him more after that incident. At least, she realized her problem with him was less about him and more...

Whatever. She didn't care anymore. "No juice, no Vampire Cookie," in his own words.

She tried to get up to her feet- and immediately she envied her brother's ability to levitate as the pain shot up through her legs.

"OW!!"

"Alchemist Cookie??" 

"You... you drank my... my poi- my potion...!?"

"Yeah. So?"

"...grrrr..." she didn't look at him, but felt a sudden burst of... not as much as strength as it was anger,and yet it still wasn't enough to give her hands the strength for fists, "why... why can't you... why can't you just control yourself for once!?"

It could hardly be called a shout, but she couldn't do that anymore. 

But she could spit venom just fine.

"...sis, what do you-"

"It's always drink this, drink that...!! All for you, you, YOU...!!!" She pushed him to the side and dragged her legs over to her prized pot. Looking into it, it didn't seem to have had much taken out of it, and yet she still felt furious that he had taken what was hers. As she turned back around and made sure to make direct eye contact, further infuriated by the confusion that met her, she put on a sarcastic tone and gestured sloppily as she mimicked her brother's voice: "Can't you make some juice with your alchemy?' this and 'Can you stop bothering me about alchemy when I'm trying to enjoy my juice?" that *pant*... and then you have the gall, to come into my room, and try to just drink anything that wasn't meant for you... and when it's not that, you're looking through my research notes, to see if they have anything about juice... because THAT'S ALL YOU EVER CARE ABOUT-"

Unable to keep up with her own shouting, she suddenly entered a violent coughing fit. She couldn't breathe. Vampire Cookie looked a mix of horrified and... mortified.

She had to support herself on the side of the cauldron to prevent herself from keeling over, with how light-headed she was getting. She'd started spitting venom, but she felt as if she were going to start spitting jam.

As soon as she could get a breath back in, as she saw that fanged Cookie take just a few quivering steps toward her with a face of remorseful shock, she shot a glare in his direction and finally gasped out:

"Why, does everything, have to be, about you...!? You... about your juice... is that... all I'm good for, to you...? Making juice, for you...? Taking care, of you...?? Catering, to you...!?!"

"..." Her brother stood frozen by her cold words. "...A-Alchemist Cookie, you know that's not true, you're not-"

"It's always, juice for you, juice for you..." As she gazed fondly into the contents of the cauldron, her mouth formed a twisted, broken facade of a smile: "But this, is for ME... this... makes me... feel better..."

It was funny to her, almost. The purpose of this entire experiment had once been to make her brother see what he was doing to her himself. Nourishing himself on that poison of his every day. 

That crimson venom dripping from his fangs as he bit into her life.

But she didn't care anymore. She wasn't doing this for him anymore.

She had long lost her original intent.

But really, her intentions now had always been there, lurking deep down within the darkest crevices of her mind. Just waiting to bubble to the surface.

Her routine poisonings had begun to feel almost comforting to her, in some form. Because at the very least, it was something she had control over. She could control her own degradation except she knew it was progressing at an uncontrolled rate. She was doing this to herself. No one else was. She took a sense of pride in that, a sense of power, a sense of control.

Control. She needed control. She couldn't control her own mortality, she couldn't control her brother and his behavior. This pernicious potion was the only way to control anything, she thought...

So what if her health was deteriorating? She had every right to make it deteriorate.

This wasn't right

"(Feel better...?) Is it... a cure or something...?"

The inquiry snapped her out of her blissful thought, but she didn't look at him. She just thought:

He was right about that one thing: That this was, to her, more nostrum than noxious in the grand scheme of things.

She'd prescribed it herself to her own heart, the one true remedy for its malaise: Her own personal, hand-crafted, home-brewed panacea. 

This would make everything better.

And so, she answered accordingly:

"Yes..."

"(...well, guess I shouldn't be surprised about medicine tasting bad...) Sis... I-"

"Sh-Shut up..."

Her head snapped to look at him and it hurt so much to make such a sudden movement, and she ignored the guilt that had been shining in his eyes and glared as she panted out:

"Get out... of my room... I'm done, talking... and, give me back, my vial, now...! *gasp* And then get out...!!"

She held out her hand. She would've pointed to the door with the other if she could trust her legs to keep themselves standing on their own, without propping herself up still. Vampire Cookie looked at her dejectedly before making his way toward the door, handing her the vial as he walked past but otherwise not stopping to look back...

Until he was at the door.

Just before he left through it, just before he could give her privacy, he looked back at her and said:

"...Could... could you at least... air out the room a little...? I-I just noticed that it's a little... I don't know, mephitic in here...? And you know I'll be able to smell this from-"

"Out...!!

"(...I-I'm sorry...)"

He shut the door, leaving her alone to her own devices in her ill-lit, shadow-casted room where the curtains hadn't been touched in days. She sighed.

'Finally. Almost thought he'd never go away...'

Now there was nothing keeping her from her precious elixir of death life... so-to-speak. 

She didn't want to miss a dose. She rationalized it in her head, one should never skip even just a day's dose of their medication, after all. It just wasn't healthy...

She was really becoming an addict of her own. Addicted to her own misery. Pushing away, hitting away even the very idea of relief. She didn't even do anything of worth anymore, passing through life devoid of passion, of her passion- once she had dreamed of making great discoveries, but now what knowledge could be held in a mind too tired to think...? She reminded herself so much of her brother: Drinking, doing nothing, and decaying in her room; Dozing off in dreamless sleep and waiting for her doom; Hardly ever leaving, barely living in this tomb.

What a miserable creature she was. Maybe she deserved this anyway.

Bottoms up.

Over the next few days, she'd stopped keeping at some point. Of how long it had been since she'd started her slow march toward the end experiment. The days were all congealing into a mass of constant fatigue languor, not helped by her now inconsistent sleep schedule... most of her schedule was 'sleep' now, really, or a state between sleep and awake that she couldn't tell the difference between anymore because she just couldn't do anything else and even thinking was becoming too much of an energy sink sometimes.

She didn't even really have the energy to make her meals anymore. Sometimes she was too queasy to stomach anything. Sometimes she struggled to leave her room in the first place. The times she had done so, when the hunger got too much to bear, she'd noticed that her brother had started waiting around the kitchen more. Sitting at the table sometimes, trying to coax her into joining. "Are you going to keep me waiting for lunch?" or "Don't you think a sandwich would be nice right about now...?" ...he wasn't very subtle.

...one time he got desperate enough to try cooking something. It wasn't very good, he really had no idea how to prepare a salad if burning it was ever a possibility and especially in the way he did it, but...

The only thing she could easily put down was that burning potion of hers. But she was finding the simple act of swallowing to become more and more difficult thanks to the sheer pain of everything in her body.

And it was just another late afternoon, who-knows-how-long after this had all began, after her heart had crumbled and fallen apart, and she was about to take her potion again. Up to her mouth, running down her throat...

But she had to spit it out halfway through because she couldn't swallow it.

"ACK!!"

Something was wrong. More wrong than ever before.

It hurt.

It hurt.

She'd never felt more SICK.

She started coughing, forcefully, oxygen making its escape. Her body was trying to expel something.There was something in her that needed to get out.

And it came out.

Onto the floor and her hands as she dropped her flask, causing it to shatter there with the mess of...

Strawberry jam.

Nausea, pain, vertigo- everything was making her head spin, the room was spinning all around her, her vision was doubling, tripling in an instant and she could hardly keep her balance on her feet, her head was growing light and yet it was still heavy with soreness, everything was in pain-

She fell over onto her back. The lights above her looked all the brighter and stung her eyes. She could hardly keep them open; she didn't want to. She was beginning to fade in and out of conscious, anyway. Her consciousness was beginning to fade in and out of being, anyway.

This was it. The culmination of her experiment: A date alone with death, with toxins flowing through her.

Her crumbled body would lie alone within her room, not to be found for days. Weeks. Months. YEARS.

...

She was full of fear. 

Those leaky eyes of her wouldn't stop, not when this wasn't what she had really wanted, deep down in the crumbled pieces of her heart, though she had long stopped admitting it to herself.

The one thing she'd wanted, needed, was...

Something she'd never get to see herself have, if she were to crumble now.

But she had no way to control the outcome of this. She never had. That cocktail of death had been dooming her every day she drank it. There was no going back.

'This is goodbye...'

~~~

"...Al...mi...C..ki....?... 

(Why did this have to be such a slow process...? Why hadn't she crumbled yet? Was there something keeping her alive, some force of will? Was that really powerful enough to keep her from the brink...?)

(...she didn't want to crumble, but she had gone too far to save herself. And no one else was there to save her. Now she was stuck in a slow atrophy from the inside-out. 

She could feel her insides crumbling. 

Jam and leftover poison still oozed from her mouth, dripping down her face- and within her mouth just tasted so odiously foul and yet she couldn't spit any of it out. Her eyes could hardly keep open. She was just about to let them close, finally, to plug up that incessant leakage, even if she feared she may never open them again...)

"ALCHEMIST COOKIE?!!"

(Wait...)

(There was a voice, and footsteps that, even with the ringing in her ears, were close enough to make out, and they sounded far too fast for any normal Cookie to be running at...

She knew a Cookie who wasn't normal.

"Alchemist Cookie!? ALCHEMIST COOKIE!!!! WAKE UP, PLEASE!!!!!!!"

She just barely opened her eyes again as the ringing cleared to find the face of a Cookie staring down at her, that had gotten down next to her on the floor, that, even though her vision was blurry, she could make out had crimson hair and deep purple eyes...

Vampire Cookie...? 

"Alchemist Cookie!?!?! What on Earthbread happened to you...!?!"

(He... found her. He actually found her. That shouldn't have happened, and yet...)

"..." She was scared to even try speaking. It'd be a waste of what little breath she had, anyway. It wasn't as if he'd ever listen to her, right?

...could she even speak? Could she even breathe? Was she even still...

No. No, the agony was undeniable. It said everything without words. Even if her body had broken down, even if it wouldn't work as she wished, she was very much still in it.

"...N-nevermind, you can tell me later. J-just- just relax, okay?? Just stay... calm..."

He got up and ran away- and while she couldn't get up to watch him leave, she was already feeling no less than sheer despondency. It wasn't disappointment, no- that would imply she had expected better of him, that she had had any hope left in her that he wouldn't just tell her to 'chill out' like he always did and then abandon her there to break down in desolation-

She never heard the door close.

She was ready to let the darkness take over her field of view again. She didn't hear the footsteps returning...

But she heard the sound of wings flapping towards her.

Looking as far towards the door as she could in her position, with her blurring vision she could make out some small, round blob of red flying in through the door and stopping right beside her- and in a sudden 'poof' of smoke, what was left was the taller figure of her big brother.

He came back

?

"Help is on the way, sis...! We just have to... wait right here, not move... and I'll be right by your side, I promise..."

(...oh. She didn't have a phone in her room, did she...? He had... called for help...?)

He knelt down next to her and rested his hand on her forehead. Cold to the touch, as always. But something about it was... soothing, to the slightest extent. Maybe it was because of how much she had been burning up on the inside. Maybe it was just the feeling of care that she felt within those eyes that were finally looking at her with clarity.

(...just for once, she felt grateful she didn't have a lock on her door. That she hadn't been able to shut him out. Just this once. Otherwise, she would have...)

"...Alchemist Cookie... what even happened to you, sis...? D-did the medicine you make not work? (I should've known it wasn't working, why didn't I...) What kind of sickness do you even have??"

"..." She didn't know whether or not to tell him what she had really been doing at this point. Two parts of her were conflicting, fighting for dominance over her crumbled heart: One of them held her original intentions, the other held those that had been more latent. Neither of them really felt like 'her.'

"...you know what, I'll just... leave that to Dr. Bones Cookie to figure out. That's their problem, not yours. You probably... don't even know, do you...?"

She did know. She knew what she was sick with.

She knew what made her sick.

She would've been able to tell him right now, in perfect detail, if she could just speak, she thought.

(Wait... who did he say...? She had to have misheard that, he was way too lazy to go through that much trouble...)

"(...that look in your eyes...)" He sounded confused and... guilty. Since when did he feel guilty...? (...there was that one time...) "But..."

She couldn't tell if he was shocked or in shock, but whatever it was, it left him silent for a few seconds before he said, with an uncharacteristically perturbed voice:

"A-anyway, I'm just... lucky I could smell... all of this from my room, otherwise, uh... (Heh, maybe it's a good thing you didn't open the window when I asked you to, right...? Haha...)"

(Sometimes she forgot how good his senses were... when they weren't being fogged by his favorite intoxicant. Actually, maybe that was why she had forgotten: Because they were always too numbed to function to the fullest...)

...the one thing she could clearly see was the discomfort he was trying and failing to hide, trying to keep his eyes on her and away from the red, sticky, sweet substance spread on the floor...

Unfortunately, it was also on her- splattered on her dress and body, seeping into the undersides from where she had fallen into this red, disgusting mess, and there was still some left over around her mouth that she was unable to wipe off. 

She knew her brother could sometimes get a little squeamish- it only ever showed, really, when he was 'low on juice,' though. He didn't have the capacity for any such feeling otherwise, she thought. 

...he did tend to drink more after physical exertion, though...

She saw a mild burgundy glow coming from where she knew his eyes to be

"I'm... starting to wish I didn't take Sparkling Cookie's advice right about now..." His stomach growled like some kind of animal. What did he mean by that...? "Uh... (good thing I don't like jam as much as juice, otherwise I would've... n-no, no need to think about that...) Rushing around sure works up a thirst, huh? Let's just, hope they... get here, in time..."

("like jam")

(...the alternative...)

...

Seconds passed, maybe a minute, and the two of them just stayed together in silence. It felt like an eternity. What was taking so long...?

...

Alchemist Cookie's body was so ridden with toxin at this point, she didn't know if she even had enough time to wait for them. It was so unfair. Why did she have to change her mind? Why did she have to feel so conflicted? She didn't understand herself. She didn't understand anything. 

...

"...V...Vam...pire... C-C-Coo...kie...?"

The words fought to escape her throat. Vampire Cookie immediately snapped to full focus:

"Wh-What is it, sis...??"

"...A...am, I... g...gon-gonna..."

She gasped for air as she tried to communicate. It was taking so much of her breath. She hadn't spoken in so long, too, that she wondered if her difficulty forming the words was because of her fatigued and deteriorating condition or if she just didn't know how to anymore, if that were even possible.

But with her brother's full concern attention, she choked out the final words as those annoying leaks in her eyes outflowed, for what she knew could be the final time they ever would:

"...crum...ble...?"

Why was she even asking him this?

Why was she even asking him this...?

..why did she want to hear what he had to say...? To a question that was surely unanswerable for him?

...

Was it just to see how he'd react...?

(...just to see if he'd react...?)

His eyes widened as soon as the words escaped her mouth.

"N-NO, NO!!! I-I mean, no!! Don't- That'll never happen, I won't let it...!" She could just make out the white of his fangs... as he was giving her some attempt at a comforting smile, even if she could tell despite the fading of her sight that it was faltering. "Don't even think about that, sis!! J-j-just- just relax, like I said, and everything will be fine... you hear me? You'll be fine, you'll be a-okay, please, I- I won't let anything happen to you, just... just hang in there, I... I..."

She felt a few drops of something slowly drip onto her face. That facsimile smile came to grief.  

"...I-I don't know, if I can do anything... Please, just, hang on... I can't lose you, sis..."

He was...

He was crying.

His voice was breaking up as he desperately sobbed out his pleas: "D-don't make me lose you like this, sis, not like this, not this early... p-p-please, you have to hang on, just hang on... you- you know I really- you know I love you, y'know..."

I love you

Hearing those words, she finally felt a wave of peace wash over her, gently lighting up the darkness that had veiled her world of hurt all this time.

All this time, those were the words she had been crumbling to hear. The words she had wanted, needed to hear.

The words her body was currently breaking down over.

She was beginning to wonder if it really had to come to this just to hear them.

The exhaustion had finally worn down on her too far to persevere. Her muddied eyes so dull and lifeless were coming to a close.

"A-Alchemist Cookie!?!?!?! N-No, stay with me, STAY WITH ME!!!! ALCHEMIST COOKIE!!!!!"

Her hearing was fading away, and the last thing she heard was:

"...I need to go make another call, or three..."

"...when is she going to wake up?? IS she going to wake up!?!"

"S-slow down, slow down!! I'm doing everything I can!!"

Alchemist Cookie's eyes just barely cracked open. It was so... bright. 

Was she...?

...she was lying in a bed, under the covers- she could recognize that feeling. She wasn't wearing her usual clothes, either- she couldn't feel those. And the smell of the room was very... antiseptic. And... like ice cream...?

She was still in pain, she was still sick, but it felt... less so than before. 

(...she could hear a beeping sound...)

Her head felt lighter, but not light-headed. More so, as if a weight had been taken off... 

Her hat was gone.

She was...

...finally beginning to see clearly...

It was so brightly lit, the entire room. Bright and clean, white and lighter blues all over the room... 

After a few blinks, she began to make out her surroundings in more detail: There was a sink in one corner, a chair and a table in the other. Looking down without moving her head she saw she was... definitely in a bed, just as she'd felt. With calming blue covers pulled up to her waist.

...She was wearing some kind of pale blue outfit with darker dots. She couldn't feel much covering her arms beyond the shoulders.

Finally budging her head just slightly to the left, ignoring the aching that still followed her head's movement (yet it still somehow still felt less than how much it had hurt to move before), she saw her arm lying out to the side, and...

There was... an IV tube, hooked up to...

Some kind of... heart-shaped plastic bag...? A bag full of... red, on some kind of white and cyan-striped stand, hooked on by... bones?

She heard the beeping coming from next to the head of her bed, out of her field of view, but she could tell what it sounded like. (She wasn't sure if it sounded... right or not... She wouldn't be surprised.)

There was only one place this could be:

Dr. Bones Cookie's clinic... which was more like a fun-sized hospital, really. It was located at the opposite corner of the kingdom as her and her brother's home (Dr. Bones Cookie had expressed their wishes to have it built more toward the center of the kingdom when they moved in, but there wasn't any room.)

And looking to her right, she saw her brother and the doctor themself chatting away... closer to 'frantic bickering' than 'chatting.'

"C'mon, Doc, just tell me she's going to be okay, tell me she'll wake up-"

"H-hold on!! I'm a doctor, not a miracle-worker! And, to be frank, a miracle's the exact kind of thing we need right now..."

They looked down at their clipboard as her brother crossed his arms, seeming uncharacteristically on-edge. The doctor looked over in her direction, and...

"...Oh, my. Well, we officially have a miracle on our hands...!"

Vampire Cookie turned over towards her, locking eyes with her, and gasped.

Alchemist Cookie could immediately see her brother's dark eyes light up with emotion like a moonlit night sky through a window, despite the bags under his eyes that she never would have imagined him with (at least his eyes were their normal hue). His mouth grew into a smile so visibly brimming with... elation and relief. He didn't seem to be able to hold back:

"ALCHEMIST COOKIE!!!"

Vampire Cookie transformed in a poof and flew right at her, rattling the poor doctor's bones.

"C-CAREFUL!!" Dr. Bones Cookie cried. "Bats are known for spreading diseases, you know...!!"

Her brother ignored them and landed next to her head with maybe a little too much impact (but it didn't hurt more than she could ignore), immediately snuggling into her. That round, red juice bat with pointed ears and sleepy eyes- his body was as cool as ever, even in this form...

And yet it was just barely warm enough that she almost smiled. Almost.

"You're okay! You're actually okay....!"

"...I'm... here...?"

Dr. Bones Cookie grabbed her brother by the wing, lifting him up and away from her. Standing right next to the side of the bed, they held the bat up to their eye socket level, squinting at him with an annoyed look.

"Be careful!!" they warned.

"Well, sorry..." Vampire Cookie said sarcastically before poofing back into his usual form, which visibly startled the poor doctor. "But my dear sister almost crumbled..." he continued, and shrugged, "can't I celebrate that that didn't happen...?"

The doctor pointed at him with their pen and said: "A-as long as you don't touch her until I'm certain her condition is stable!! Do you even realize how brittle her dough was back there!? I'm surprised she didn't crumble before-"

"Okay, okay!! *sigh* I'll just, stand here, just... let me talk to her for a second, okay...?"

"..." They said nothing, but backed up slightly, nodded their head, and motioned as if to say go ahead before turning away to look at their clipboard papers. Probably something to do with her.

Alchemist Cookie looked at her brother, and he looked at her- eye to eye in complete reticence, and the uncertainty hanging in the air applied pressure, for someone to make the first move. She couldn't move her limbs, and her mouth tasted bittersweet. She just lay there, trying to communicate with her eyes to just go on and say it- whatever it was he had to say.

Her brother's expression became more somber as he finally shattered that tension looming between the two of them:

"Sis... why did you do it?"

"...?"

"Why did you..." the words came out of his mouth with an unsteady, shrinking tone: "poison... yourself?"

...it wasn't possible. He'd thought it was medicine. She'd told him it was medicine.

"...you... know...?"

"..."

The two of them just stared at each other, in seconds on end of uncomfortable eye contact and silence except in the midst of it she could hear Vampire Cookie mumble under his breath, something like "where did that spark in your eyes go...?" (and... she didn't know how to answer.)

"...Sparkling Cookie saw some... things around your room... put two and two together."

"...?" Sparkling Cookie had been there...? When??

Seeming to read her confusion, he went on: 

"...I... called him, Herb Cookie and Mint Choco Cookie over when you passed out... I-I didn't know what else to do, they know more about that 'healing' stuff than I do..."

(...That was how she made it, wasn't it...?)

"...T-turns out, Sparkling Cookie couldn't really do anything for you since you were... not awake, you know. Can't give a drink to an unconscious Cookie and all..."

She was glad he didn't get to. The thought of it made her sick to her stomach... 

(How was her stomach faring...?)

"So, he ended up, uh, looking around your room, 'cause we didn't, uh, kn-know what happened, and, uh... yeah."

He seemed... increasingly unsettled the more he recounted. She had a feeling she knew why.

"...He... said he recognized some of the things you had in there from what he read in some books. I think he meant the books he keeps checking out of the library for ya, 'cause he... said you absolutelywould have known, what those things would do to you, s-s-so..."

 "..."

She didn't really know what to say to him. She hadn't planned for anyone to recognize her reagents and their uses... or lack thereof. She didn't have an excuse planned. 

Vampire Cookie stared at her, contemplating, before he took a deep breath and said: 

"...why did you do it? Why would you ever... do that, to yourself...? I just- I, I don't understand..."

She could see the tears beginning to pile up at the corners of his eyes, and it... still perplexed her, to some degree. As she readjusted to speaking, she blankly queried:

"You... care...?"

"...th-that shouldn't be a question..."

Alchemist Cookie looked away: "I... thought you didn't."

"...Wh-wh-what made you... what made you... think that...?"

(Her eyes looked back at him again. The look on his face... why did he seem so... upset?)

"..."

This was it, this was the moment she had been waiting for this entire time: The moment when she would look her brother dead in the eyes and finally divulge to him the disease that had been plaguing her mind, say the words, "you did."

"You did this to me."

...

But as much as it burned the back of her throat, the words just never came. And her head ached with the thoughts that she couldn't express.

She couldn't bring herself to say that.

She felt something burst in her eyes again. Embarrassing; there was no way to hide it this time.

Why did things always have to be so UNFIXABLE...?

"A-Alchemist Cookie, you're... y-you're crying..."

"I-I... I..." The words were so, so hard to form. Nothing felt right. Everything felt wrong. She felt so, sowrong. She couldn't take being wrong. But... her feelings had to come out. And they came out; she finally managed to spit it all out: "...I just... I couldn't... I couldn't take it anymore... I can't take it anymore..."

"...take... what...?"

She sniffled: "...you're always... it's always grape juice, it's all... it's everything to you, it's everywhere,every day, all the time, and I... I-I just feel like I'm nothing to you... I have to take care of you, when you get drunk and that's all the time... you can never take care of yourself or come home by yourself or do anything yourself... and you pass out and say weird things and you forget your own name and you forget my name a-and-"

Her voice was collapsing in on itself like a buckled floor, but she fought weary and bleary through the instability:

"A-a-and that's all I ever... all we ever do together is... because you're always so... intoxicated... it's like you forget about everything else... you forget about me... and you're always just..." She was breathing so hard that it hurt, "you never spend real time with me. It's always either at the bar o-or, or when you're at home you're still just drinking and drinking and..."

A heavy acid rain was drowning her voice and face. She didn't know if she was able to purge everything that had ravaged her on the inside, if she could get everything out in the right words, if her words would be right at all...

But... those feelings needed to get out.

She needed to get those feelings out.

It wasn't wrong just to feel, was it? When these feelings were designed to tell that something was wrong.

"I just... just... wanted, f-for you... to care about me... I-I couldn't take that, that... that I didn't matter as much, to you..."

"Alchemist Cookie..." he was trying to cover his face with his hands, she could see the glimmers of guilt in his tears, but he didn't look away from her. Contrarily, his stare became much more fixed as the words solemnly spilled from his heart mouth: "...you... you mean more to me than I can... I-I don't know what I'd do without you-"

"I know, s...someone has to ta-ake care of you... that's, the problem... I have to, but I can't... I can't take it..."

"Th-that's not what I... (crumbs, I didn't mean it like-)"

"I can't... I can't keep taking care of you... I'm sick of it... I'm sick of grape juice... I'm sick of seeing you drunk all the time... I'm sick of LIVING LIKE THIS...!" She coughed, but she could still breathe. She persisted: "I- I- I can't- I can't... I can't keep doing this... for the rest of my life... knowing that I'm going to crumble before you ever will eventually and then who will take care of you after that??" She took a deep breath. "I-I-I... I'm just a normal Cookie and you're not... Wh-why do we have to be so unequal...?Wh-why- why do I have to be to be so INADEQUATE...!?"

"D-don't say that, STOP!!!" He slapped his hands over his mouth immediately, his eyes widening and looking down at them. After seconds of evident processing, slowly returning to meet her gaze again, his next words were immediately at a lower volume and gentler tone: "...Please..." He almost reached one hand out at her before stopping himself, "Alchemist Cookie, you're my little sister, you shouldn't beworrying about... stuff like this, you shouldn't be thinking anything like this, you're... you're too young for that, you... you're..."

His hands went back up to his face again, this time burying himself enough to muffle his voice just slightly.

"You're too young to crumble... I don't- You have a whole life ahead of you, you have- you have so much time left, why would you... wh-why cut it short...?" 

(...why was that his fixation...?)

"..." the waterworks still welled in her eyes, but her voice grew stabler yet also quieter, colder just like his hugs. But she couldn't move. "...I just... wanted things to change. I wanted to be happy."

"...you weren't happy..."

It wasn't a question.

Vampire Cookie folded his arms, eyes cast down, tears trickling and... contemplative.

"...I... didn't even realize... I-I mean, I guess I started to-"

(Started to...?)

She cut him off:

"Of course you didn't notice, with how happy you are all the time. You're really lucky, aren't you? Life's so good to you all the time... Everyone wants to be friends with you, you just have everything and you never have to work for it, you never have to care about your health because you're special... and you tell me I need to stop worrying about things, but I have to worry about you because you don't worry about anything, but I- I need to worry about you because you'll probably get into something stupid while you're drunk or just stop... stop taking care of yourself everywhere that matters and, I can't let you do that, I can't let you be alone when someone has to take you home and... and..."

She felt as if a world's worth of weight was upon her, a world of pain that she was forced to live in. Alone.

"I just don't understand, why you get to be so happy, when I don't..."

"...I'm not."

"...wh-what?"

"Alchemist Cookie, I... it's not like that, but..." as he stared into her eyes again, he sighed: "...I don't never worry about anything, I'll admit it. The truth is... I'm... always kinda worried... sorta... you know..."

He looked over to something out of her field of view- by the head of her bed. It was where she heard the beeping sound coming from.

"...you're always working yourself so hard, sis... too hard... you basically never relax, I have to remind you to sleep half the time. You think I don't get worried about you...?" He paused before continuing: "I... kinda always felt like something like this would happen someday- not the same thing, but... that you'd just give up taking care of yourself because you're so dedicated to your work. Or that one day I'd just come into your room and see that some experiment gone wrong did you in, and..."

(His breathing hitched...?)

"...I-I... I can't lose you like that..."

"..." Alchemist Cookie blinked away any remaining droplets. Still processing what she was hearing, her only words were: "You're going to lose me eventually..."

"...I- I know. I don't like to- I don't want to think about that... any of this... I-I've always tried to not think about it..."

"...is that why you drink juice all the time?"

He attempted to mumble something under his breath- but he was just loud enough and he was just close enough that she could just barely make it out:

"(I don't know. Maybe more than I need to, I guess...)"

"..."

...

As the saying went: "The first step is admitting you have a problem."

He started speaking clearly again, looking back to her yet another time- and he looked just a little more regretful than even before:

"...I know it's nothing like... what you've been going through, I'm not trying to compare that, I just... want you to know that I do care about you, sis, I just... gosh, when you yelled at me that one time- what was it, two weeks ago now?- I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know it was this much-"

"You mean... the time I yelled at you, in my room...?"

(...she felt just a small pang of guilt about the intensity of her ire in that moment...)

"Hmm? Oh, that was... that too I guess, but I mean earlier than that. Where was it again? Living room, I think...? Yeah, that! Probably two and a half weeks ago, I think..." 

"...that was..."

...two and a half weeks ago...?

...she hadn't even been poisoning herself for that long, and things had escalated this far...?

How potent was that solution of hers...? 

...

Despite the nagging of her own insatiable interest, she knew that, perhaps, this was a knowledge that was better of not known, to herself at the very least. For her own sake. She didn't want to stare into that abyss again.

...

Two and a half weeks ago. She had outpoured her anger two and a half weeks ago.

Two and a half weeks ago, her feelings had finally boiled over. She had gotten to concocting her plan to poison herself with that sick solution...

And for what? For what had all of this been?

Would this have really been the solution to all her problems?

...

If she hadn't survived to explain everything to Vampire Cookie, he wouldn't have realized a thing. He wouldn't have stopped drinking grape juice. He probably would've started drinking more of it just to cope with the loss...

...

Two and a half weeks ago.

Somehow, he had kept track of the time.

And he remembered. He remembered her outburst.

He remembered her.

...

While she was beginning to think back on those weeks, on everything she hadn't paid attention to before, her brother kept on talking:

"That was when you told me you didn't want to, uh, look after me..." he hugged his arms around himself and looked down to the side, embarrassment showing through the regretful smile he was trying to put up, "I, uh, didn't even really get it fully until I was talking to Sparkling Cookie one night, when I went out... and uh, he told me that he always calls you to take me home when I, can't do it myself... and I didn't even realize how often you had to do that, I thought it was just a few times, haha..." his laugh didn't really sound amused as he brought one hand up to his face, "...I didn't even... remember half of those times..."

"...yeah. I can guess."

"And I thought that was all that you meant. So, I told him to stop calling you, and-"

"You... got your friends to take you home, didn't you...?"

That night Cinnamon Cookie had carried her brother home, then the other time that Sparkling Cookie did the same... How could she have been so oblivious...? 

"...I... didn't even realize you had done that... I even talked to them, but..." her eyes turned away from him, "I... guess I was just so focused on how you were still drinking grape juice, I didn't feel like anything was changing..."

"...I...is that why you did it, then...? Above everything else? Because I have to drink juice?"

"..."

She fell more silent than she would have expected to be at this question. She was imagining, over and over again in her head, the various reasons she could give for why she had done what she did- many of which had something to do with grape juice- and the exact ways to lay it out, to get the perfect emotional response, but...

No. None of it felt right, really. None of it was perfect.

Even now, with them spilling everything within their hearts to each other- none of it was perfect. She knew she had so much more to say, and he probably had more too, but the flow of conversation would carry them away before they could get it all across, when they weren't holding themselves back. How long would it take of conveying these ill-defined feelings in words, over and over again, until they finally understood each other? Would it be days? Weeks? Months? Years?

"...I-I don't know..."

Really, that was both true and untrue- she had a multitude of reasons, compounding upon each other to poison her mind- but...

None of her reasons were right. Nothing. The action she had taken in and of itself was just so wrong, there was no way she could justify it anymore. Why had she done that to herself!? It hadn't done any good in the end. Things had been changing for the better around her, Cookies had been caring for her well-being, and it was exactly because she had been so dedicated to her own self-destruction that she had not seen any of it...

(...she really needed to apologize to Sparkling Cookie, didn't she...?)

And to her brother...

She knew it would be foolish of her to tell him, "it's because you don't care."

Because she knew that was wrong.

She was seeing that on full display right now.

She had seen it the entire time.

But it was only now beginning to click.

"...you were... you were actually trying to care for me when I... started doing this, weren't you? When you checked in on me... and I yelled at you..."

"Oh. Yeah. Uh, when Sparkling Cookie told me you were... 'sick,' he pretty much... banned me from the juice bar, temporarily. And told me to cut back on the juice until you were better. And... I knew he was probably right by that. How was I supposed to take care of you if I couldn't even take care of myself?Uh... yeah. But I don't really know how to 'cut back,' so I kinda... went back and forth on too much and too little. Left me really thirsty a lot. Thought it'd be fine to try and look for a drink around your room that one time, but... (gosh, the stuff you said there was... I probably should've seen all of this coming...) I didn't want to..."

He seemed to grow more uncomfortable talking about this, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"I knew I wouldn't be able to resist. So, I just... decided to stay out of your room, after that. You know how I get when I'm... 'low on juice,' right...?"

(He hadn't kept trying to check up on her in her room after that, but she had noticed him hanging out around her more anyway, the few times she left the room. He had... tried to make sure she was nourishing herself...

...Those two and a half weeks, he really had been able to tell she was sick... No thanks to any toxicant, but the few times she'd communicated with other Cookies... and he had done what he could with what he was given, each time...

She really never had needed to dance so close with death, had she...?)

"..."

He always drank more after physical exertion.

But she could only really think of one time she had seen him get ravenous

The day he became abnormal.

Split wood on the floor

Spilled puddles of red

Desperation dripping with hunger

Violet consumed by burgundy 

"...yes. I don't want to think about that..."

"...am I really that scary...? Well, I guess if Dr. Bones Cookie's a good metric to judge by, then... (heh...)"

Alchemist Cookie's eyes moved to the other Cookie in the room. She could see that Dr. Bones Cookie was trying to let the two have their moment and focus on whatever papers were on their clipboard, but couldn't do much to hide the anxiousness on their face looking back and forth between those and the siblings.

She knew that they'd always expressed their own concerns about Vampire Cookie and his condition, but they certainly seemed to know more about the type of Cookie he was, about his needs, about how he functioned in general... but Vampire Cookie would rarely ever show up for scheduled checkups. Alchemist Cookie always did for her own, and she... hadn't considered asking them about him. 

...how had she missed something so obvious?

(...she'd been missing obvious things for the past two and a half weeks...)

"...Dr. Bones Cookie?"

"H-huh!?"

The doctor, startled at the mention of their name, almost dropped their clipboard but managed to catch it in the nick of time. Vampire Cookie tilted his head, but said nothing.

"G-Good Tingly-Bones! Is there something wrong???" the doctor asked as they checked through their papers, making sure they were still in order. (Alchemist Cookie was dreading when she would have to hear whatever those said...)

"No. I just... I know my brother has to drink juice to sustain himself, right...? But... is that really true? Is there really nothing else he can-"

They immediately sighed, as Vampire Cookie shifted uncomfortably in place but didn't say a word. They started to explain:

"Err, your brother is an... interesting Cookie. His dough contains around 10% strong grape juice- that would be strawberry jam in any other grown Cookie, but-"

"He's different. In a lot of ways. I know already."

She didn't intend for that to sound so bitter.

"...w-well," they continued, "they don't exactly put too much about vampires in medical literature, so what I do know is limited, but... normally they have to drink the jam of other desserts... but if his body's composition substitutes juice for jam, then-"

"My brother substitutes juice for jam as well..."

Vampires were jamsuckers- She'd heard about that. She'd never seen her brother personally do such a thing... except in a few scuffles, but that was just the way he fought dessert monsters and such- he didn't do such things recreationally, and never to another Cookie.

...But what she saw in movies and read and novels, heard about in horror stories, about Cookies like him, the things she tried to deny due to the occasional discrepancy and knowing her brother wasn't a monster...

How could she keep denying her brother's namesake at that point...?

Vampire Cookie turned his back to the other two, as if he didn't want any attention paid to him. 

(...they were kinda talking about him as if he weren't right there in the room, weren't they...?)

Dr. Bones Cookie paid him no mind:

"That's my theory, at least. But make no bones about it, he certainly does have it in him to drink jam if he's desperate enough..." they shot a mildly disgruntled look in her brother's direction, "Never set up a jam transfusion with a starving vampire in the room, if I've learned anything..."

She could see shivers travel up her brother's back, and his face turned redder than its usual tinge- but the way it burned his cheeks was unfamiliar compared to the drunken flush she was accustomed to seeing him with. He whispered a "sorry" under his breath with his eyes pointed towards her.  Dr. Bones Cookie's focus appeared to shift before Alchemist Cookie could bargain ask any further questions:

"Speaking of which: Vampire Cookie, I need to discuss a few things with you..."

Dr. Bones Cookie pulled Vampire Cookie to the side- or at least, they tried to. Vampire Cookie wasn't so easily moved. 

"What things...?"

"Err, concerning the patient. I-I know this isn't my field of expertise, but I... I just have a few concerns, and, um..." the doctor glanced over at Alchemist Cookie for a moment, and then returned their attention to Vampire Cookie as they lowered their voice to a whisper that was still not low enough for her not to hear: "(have you thought about signing her up for counseling with Chamomile Cookie...??)"

"..."

Vampire Cookie seemed more compliant after that. The two stepped a bit further away- just far enough that as they talked to each other quietly, she couldn't hear a single word they were saying. Probably something about her that they didn't want her to hear just yet, she assumed...

(...counseling... they were going to put her into counseling...

Something about that knotted up her stomach further than it had already been twisted. Counseling was for Cookies who needed help, for Cookies who cried. Alchemist Cookie didn't need help, she didn't cry.

...

Oh, who was she even kidding at this point?

Gosh, she was really SICK, wasn't she...?)

...she was caught between a rock and a hard place.

Juice or jam.

...

Nothing could ever be perfect, could it? He seemed so deeply discomforted with just the sight of strawberry jam, and of course he'd be: Hungering for the lifeblood of another living being, that was... a disturbing idea, even to her. It wasn't even up for consideration.

Neither of them would be happy like that. 

She didn't want him to be unhappy like that. 

...in the back of her head, she did ponder what life would be like like that, if he drank jam instead of juice. But the reveries of her brother being more active, more aware, more... there were quickly broken by visions of him sucking the life out of other Cookies' necks like a scene right out of a horror movie.

She didn't think he would hurt her... maybe. Otherwise she probably wouldn't be alive right now.

(...once she thought about it, what she pictured of her brother acting ideally... wasn't even that different from the way he was acting right now, or... even how he acted normally... when he wasn't too drunk, at least...)

That grape juice aroma that had lingered around their lives, it was by no means a good thing. It would've been so much better if they could just be rid of it entirely. But they couldn't have that. Life would never be perfect. But for what they could do, for what they did have, it was just something they had to put up with.

'It could've been worse' was never the best thought to turn to- but even it had its uses...

...

It could've been worse.

He could've been so much worse

He could've been like those vampires from the movies and myths, cruel and uncaring and violent- some cold count, creeping around the darkness, hunting unsuspecting Cookies like a predator stalking its prey...

But for all his flaws, all his shortcomings, everything he could improve on, everything he should improve on...

He cared about her. Enough to try cutting back on juice by himself. Enough that he cared about her happiness even when he didn't know the full extent of her pain. 

He came all the way out here to the hospital just to be by her side, when normally such a thing was too much work to him. He tried to respect her boundaries when he saw it was getting to her. He tried to cook for her, when he had never touched a stove, because she wouldn't eat...

She'd thought he wouldn't have cared if she were to crumble right before his eyes. 

Those same eyes had dampened her crumbling face with a gentle rain of tears as he said "I love you..."

(He loved her enough that he was willing to put in the effort to make a change.

He didn't really know how to do it the best way, and maybe things could never go as far as she'd have dreamed of, but... maybe, they could work it out...)

"Alchemist Cookie?"

She had been lost in her thoughts for long enough that the other two had finished their conversation and walked back to the side of her bed. Dr. Bones Cookie was trying to address her while her brother was standing next to them... and while she couldn't read his expression, it didn't seem very joyous.

"...what is it?"

She could read their deliberation in the stuttering of false starts, of "well"s and "you see"s, as they struggled for words, nervous sweat running down, before they at last got a sentence going:

"(How do I say this...) S-so, from the jam test results and what your brother said was found in your room... Good Tingly-Bones, kid, you shouldn't even be alive right now!! H-How much of that mixture of yours did you drink!?"

She wasn't shocked by their disbelief- she'd felt about the same way, after all. But what surprised her, thinking about how to answer their question... was the answer she ended up giving:

"I-I... don't know... I think it was... I drank it every day, for... a week, and a half...?"

(Two and a half weeks didn't leave much up to interpretation. But it still just felt too short... but... no, no, things had really just deteriorated that quickly. And that was what confounded her so. And yet it all blurred together in her head and dragged on for so long...)

"...how much of it every day, exactly...?"

"...I-I wasn't keeping track, I just filled the vial in my room, I think..."

She could hardly fathom the lack of plan or reason in what she had no way of denying had been her own fully conscious actions. She wasn't even sure what to think of herself at this point.

Dr. Bones Cookie sighed, murmuring something about 'treatment' before speaking with a resigned voice: "I-I'll just... keep it brief: That concoction contained some of the most dangerously toxic substances known to Cookiekind... and those substances are all over your body right now. Most of them don't even have known antidotes...! I've given you what I could, but most of what I can do is treat the symptoms until this clears out of your body on its own... (hopefully). You'll be staying here until I'm certain you're in a good condition...!"

None of this was anything she didn't either already know or couldn't have figured out on her own. And yet, hearing the words said out loud, she felt the weight of her circumstances really sink in.

...but one thing stood out to her, regardless:

"...I-I can't go home...?"

"Your body can't fight this on its own. I-it's going Tibia LONG road to recovery, but with proper care... (well, let's just hope your condition stays stable, at least...)."

Alchemist Cookie frowned. Did they really have to try lightening the mood like that...?

"...Dr. Bones Cookie...? How long will it be...?"

"...my best guess right now is at least a month..."

(...that didn't sound like a concrete estimate...)

Vampire Cookie pulled his cape over his face. 

"D-D-Doc said that..." he started with a lachrymose voice, "that no one can really do anything but hope for the best right now. Nothing else. We c...can't control what happens, s-so..."

He turned away and began walking towards the door sulkily.

"I should get going, visiting hours are over. I'm taking too much of their time anyways..."

It didn't even feel as if it had been that long. Were visiting hours that short? Or... how long had he been waiting for her to wake up...?

The sound of his footsteps as he trudged to the door made Alchemist Cookie feel... something that called her to ask, just to make sure:

"You'll come back tomorrow, right...?"

He stopped just before he could touch the handle, at first seeming completely frozen for a few seconds before he at last responded:

"...y-yeah, of course...! Just..." he looked back at her, "don't go anywhere! Okay?"

And with that, he opened the door and staggered out, letting it slam shut behind him.

The weeping was loud enough she could still hear it, unmoving for minutes until finally fading away.

And thus, Alchemist Cookie was left to intensive care. 

Not exactly the intensive care unit, but she couldn't be picky like this.

"...Dr. Bones Cookie?" Alchemist Cookie said. "...when do you think I'll be able to move, or... touch things.... or do anything again?

"Hmm... well... you're able to communicate. That's a good start."

The recovery process over the next few days didn't have a lot to do, with her being stationary as Dr. Bones Cookie managed her condition and kept it from worsening. Even just the fact she hadn't been able to eat for those days was causing problems; Dr. Bones Cookie explained to her that had her brother not told them at the scene about her malnourished state, they would've immediately put her onto parenteral nutrition... which would've triggered refeeding syndrome. She had to be slowly and carefully replenished, gradually increasing back to normal amounts... via catheter in the arm. It wasn't even certain if the damage to her stomach could heal in full.

(She asked them to give it to her while she was asleep. She wanted to be able to move freely the moment she recovered)

Despite this lack of action, her second day of regained consciousness was... not what she would call boring, with a curiosity like hers. She was constantly asking questions about her condition, and when she wasn't doing that, she was thinking over it herself. After all, medicine was a key facet of alchemy.

Would she ever be able to do alchemy again? Was she still even Alchemist Cookie without that? She didn't have anything else that had defined her at this point. She didn't know what to think of herself.

As promised, Vampire Cookie came to visit, more punctual than she had ever seen him been in her life. He seemed a bit less 'out of it' than when he had left, from the moment he was allowed into the room. But he still seemed a little off, the way he was so obviously catching his breath, sweating, as if he had ran all the way there from their home.

...

That was it, wasn't it.

That wasn't it for the odd behavior, though- as soon as he could breathe, he immediately went on questioning her about how the doctor was treating her (well), how comfortable she was (as much as she could be), if she was doing any better (...)...

...he was more alert than usual, more agitated. It was apparent to her that he was still depriving himself, even though she was no longer in his care. He kept pulling his cape over his mouth whenever he wasn't speaking, and when he did speak, she couldn't help but notice that faltering tone of his voice. That barely noticeable reddish tinge tainting his eyes, threatening to consume

...he seemed hesitant to stand too close to her. Whenever even just a hand or a foot would cross some theoretical line, he'd pull it back immediately, as if he couldn't be near her. 

...

That conversation she had had with Dr. Bones Cookie must have really gotten to him, hadn't it? Everything she had said that day in general, to the point he's ended up in a situation like this: denying himself the satiation that would give himself security here.

"I-I'm sorry if I'm a bit... antsy today, I just... i-it's just been really stressful with everything happening, I just-"

His stomach grumbled, shutting him up and putting a look of apprehension clear on his face. He backed a few steps away from her. 

She rolled her eyes, just as a gesture to tell him that his fears were all in his mind: He wouldn't do anything to her; it simply wasn't in his nature.

She trusted him.

She wasn't used to doing that, now that she thought about it. But after what happened in her lab, she felt she could start.

...

The following days of slow recovery, each and every one, he would come in like this. Every single day, for every last minute allotted to visit, he would keep his distance from her, yet still question her as much as possible. She could tell this was eating him up, but she didn't really know how to address it. She didn't want him to be unhealthy.

"...just remember to feed yourself, silly," she said abruptly one day as he left.

"Huh? O-of course I will, I haven't been... d-don't worry about it, sis. It's your turn to relax, anyways."

"But-"

The door cut her off. She made a mental note to shift her research into vampirism the moment she could pick up a book again. Whenever that day would be. If that day would ever come. Every single night, as she was dragged down into sleep, her greatest fear was that she wouldn't rise the next day. 

It was the very next day that she would finally regain the strength to move. She didn't try to sit up without the support of the bed- she wasn't sure she was quite ready for that yet- but she could finally lift her arms. Every movement ached, and it was clear her mobility still had a lot to improve on, but it was there. 

After some discussion and a close examination of her dough, Dr. Bones Cookie finally supposed they could relent on the 'no touch'

She saved her energy for when her brother arrived, and the moment he sauntered in looking in much better shape than when she had last seen him. He seemed less tired, no signs that he had ran- probably started walking sooner, given he still arrived on time- and he immediately was much more comfortable standing close to her. His eyes were perfectly purple, too. Calling him out must have made him get himself together, she supposed.

It was almost jarring to see how much more relaxed his demeanor had become, however.

"Alchemist Cookie, hey! What's up? How's it been?"

...well, he was acting more like his usual self, at least. Casually leaning against the air, floating next to her with his arms behind his head- it was the grape juice smell that confirmed it to her, though: He really had listened to her this time.

She felt nihility creeping up on her. Even though she had been the one to tell him to do it, she still felt this bitter-tasting fear in her that now she had been stable for long enough, things would just go back to the way they had been before. That he would forget this had ever happened. That he'd stop caring again...

"I'm still stuck here. Not much has changed... except for this:"

After some struggle to muster up her energy, she lifted her arms up and held them out and open. And immediately, Vampire Cookie gasped:

"Wait... does this mean what I think it means...?"

He tossed a look at Dr. Bones Cookie, who, after a moment's pondering, seemed to realize what he was referencing and answered:

"W-well, I suppose so... but if you're going to do that again, then you at least need a SHOWER first for sanitation's sake-"

"I washed my hands, that's good enough for me!!"

"H-hey!!!"

Paranoid as they were well-meaning, the doctor tried to grab hold of his cape, but he had already poofed into his smaller form before they could stop him (and all they could do was sigh in resignation). And before Alchemist Cookie could react, she found herself hit square in the chest by the force of what could've easily been mistaken for a baseball if he hadn't been so soft. 

She took the smaller juice bat into her hands gently, holding him out in front of her. The smile on his face was almost infectious... 

"You look so stupid right now, you know."

She couldn't help it. It was such a big, dumb smile.

A big, dumb, warm and loving smile.

"You really..."

Her mouth twitched and her eyes softened. He really was that happy to see her get better. He really cared that much.

"You..."

She took him up closer to her face, and as he nuzzled against her cheek...

She smiled.

She hadn't had a true, happy smile on her face in so, so long.

She hadn't felt truly happy in so, so long.

She had forgotten what it had felt like, to feel secure in the world, that others loved her; to feel that love as it existed right next to her in all its warmth without obstruction or oblivion; to feel all warmth of emotion through the cold of the physical body. She felt that emptiness being filled.

He felt warm to her. She didn't mind if he was cold to the dough. The warmth and love of a familial embrace had finally reached her, and she felt happier than she could ever remember being in recent times. Maybe ever. She didn't know anymore, and she didn't need to; It didn't matter. She was just so happy to have this moment, to have her brother here with her, to be here right now and to experience this joy.

This love.

"...sis? You're crying all over me, y'know... are you alright?"

"Y-yeah, this is... *sniffles* I've never been better..."

She hugged him close to her chest, with all of her limited strength. As limp as her arms were... perhaps that was a good thing: She likely would've crushed him otherwise. She was squeezing him as if she'd never gotten a hug before, as if he hadn't given her one a million times over. 

...he had. But this time, it just felt different. She wasn't being clung to obnoxiously by a tipsy Cookie; this was a genuine moment of reciprocal tenderness, where everything felt just right.

This was something personal. Meaningful. 

"...well, I'm not complaining."

"I-I can't remember the last time I was this happy..."

She felt all warm and fuzzy inside...

She felt so happy to be alive.

"(...maybe Dr. Bones Cookie was right...)"

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

(She had a feeling she knew what he meant... and maybe she didn't have to worry about it. It would spoil the moment, anyways.)

Her recovery seemed to go by a lot faster after this, with her gradually regaining strength in her limbs even if the pain remained. Her brother continued visiting everyday, and now she was the one asking him questions- making sure he was still taking care of his own needs (even if he looked like it already), that they would be hanging out as much as possible the moment she was out of there (she already had several activities planned out), and...

With his little juice bat self nestled in her hair, she asked:

"...why didn't you ever tell me you weren't happy?"

"...hmm?"

"I remember what you said, you know. You said you aren't really that happy."

"...well, why didn't you ever tell me you're never happy?"

"..."

"Besides-"

"I just didn't think you'd care, I guess."

"...Alchemist Cookie-"

"B-but, you always talk about how much you love your life, right...? How do you love your life if you aren't happy??"

"...you know, sis, there's always going to be stuff that makes you unhappy. And sometimes you can't do anything about it. But... I guess what I've learned is... not to think about it all the time. You just have to think about the stuff that makes you happy instead, y'know...? Like, say..." 

She felt his wings pressed down on her head.

"My most precious treasure."

"...what would that be?"

She tilted her head, her eyes shifting upwards despite not making him more visible. He replied, shortly yet sweetly:

"My brilliant little sister who's the smartest Cookie on Earthbread."

"..."

She didn't feel as if she deserved to be called that. But... it felt good hearing someone say it. 

Hearing him say it.

"Love ya, sis."

"...love you too."

For a moment, she didn't really feel sick anymore.

~~~

The poison was finally clearing out of her system; the battle was over, and she had been victorious. But alas, war was not without its casualties:

Dr. Bones Cookie had been quite apologetic, and very apparently frustrated about their own limitations the entire time, even if no one held it against them that they were essentially running an entire miniature hospital by themself. When Alchemist Cookie was finally discharged, she was essentially wheelchair-bound. She wasn't incapable of walking, but the pain and fatigue that it brought was too much to be reasonable, and she was far too at risk of stumbling, falling, getting hurt-

The amount of time it would take to recover her walking ability was uncertain. If she ever did, then the disuse of her legs would likely mean she'd need physical therapy to be able to use them again. But at this point, she was just happy to go home...

Even if she would still need some degree of taking care of. The doctor still recommended she spend most of the day resting at the very least. Her brother would have to take care of her, against all protests of hers. She had been taken care of for long enough. 

She was certain it made him no better than what he had been. 

But he seemed... just fine with this prospect...?

"What if I never get better...? What if you're stuck taking care of me for the rest of my life?"

"C'mon, sis, aren't you the one who goes on about giving stuff in return...? Honestly, you shouldn't have been giving it in the first place, but... hey, at least now you get to sit back and relax, right?"

"..."

"...come on, give yourself a break for once. You deserve it, you know."

...

Recovery really was going to be a long process...

But she had her brother, and he was actually going to put in the effort to moderate himself. And she had never been more happy to be in those grape juice-smelling rooms of their home again.  

(The smell had just barely begun to fade...)

And there at home at last, they were surprised by her brother's friends- Sparkling Cookie had been trusted to watch the house for all the times her brother was out to see her, and with how Vampire Cookie had so excitedly relayed the news to him that she was coming home that day, he had invited Herb Cookie and Mint Choco Cookie over to welcome them home. 

...the latter two were clearly more there for her brother, and she supposed she couldn't blame them as beyond the belated 'thank you's for keeping her alive until the ambulance had arrived, she didn't really have anything to say to them either. They just didn't really know each other that well. 

...

But the former, sitting to the side and patiently listening to the rest, chiming in here and there- she wheeled right up to him and plainly stated:

"I'm sorry."

"...for what?" He tilted his head slightly.

"..." she took a deep breath, in and out: "you were just trying to help me, and I was... really mad at you. You didn't deserve... that."

"...oh. Oh. I see... It's alright, Alchemist Cookie. I'm just happy to see you've recovered from your... sickness..."

He looked deeply uncomfortable with just that one last word. 

"...you don't have to sugarcoat it, you know. I know you're the one who found out."

"..." his smile fell: "I won't pry, but... just know," he said with a gentle tone as he pushed some of her hair away from her face, "you can always come talk to me if you need someone to listen."

"..."

She smiled.

"...thanks, Sparkling Cookie." 

That very night when they had come home together, once everyone else had left and it was just her and her brother again, as she was still getting used to her new mode of movement, Alchemist Cookie found she had trouble getting through the door to her own room. She would be able to just barely reach the doorknob, but the true problem lay in that her door opened outwards... and she wasn't that good at maneuvering herself, thus she didn't know if she could find a way to get around the door hitting her when it opened. She didn't know how to keep it open as she entered, either.

...she ended up having to ask Vampire Cookie for help, already. Just to get the door for her.

(...maybe asking for help wasn't so bad after all...)

She realized immediately upon entering the room how much tidier it was compared to how she had left it, after she had messed it up creating her concoction and neglected to clean up after herself. But now, even that poison of hers had been scrubbed from the cauldron, and under the moonlight through the now open curtains she could see: Neither jam nor venom spat smeared the floor...

Good riddance, she thought.

(She'd have to thank Sparkling Cookie for this, most likely...)

Stains were left behind- forever to remind of that incident, never able to be scrubbed clean. But perhaps some things were best left unforgotten.

Once she was close enough to her bed, she was able to use her limited walking ability to get herself into it. Crumbs, that hurt really bad. 

...and her brother came to tuck her in, even though she tried to reject it. 

"This is humiliating...!"

"There's nothing humiliating about a little TLC, sis."

"It just feels so... It's like you're treating me like a kid."

"...Alchemist Cookie, you are a kid."

"..."

She'd never really thought about it before, but...

She was a kid. Yet she'd never really gotten to be one. Always at work in her lab, always worrying about things she couldn't control... and always taking care of an adult who wouldn't care for himself. That had been her life for so long. That had been her 'normal.'

She didn't know how to live without asphyxia. She had always wanted to breathe, but now that she could, she didn't really know what to do with herself. Everything she could do had long since faded to obscurity in her mind. All those hobbies of hers had grown dusty, forgotten...

But... she could work on it now. She could go out and make friends and read books and look at the stars and do anything she wanted. She could finally enjoy alchemy again.

She had made a mental note earlier, hadn't she...? To get to work on something?

...she could throw that aside for now. Right now wasn't the time for that.

...she could spend quality time with her brother and he wouldn't be too drunk to remember, maybe. A lot of the plans she had come up with for them would probably need modification, given her current indefinite condition, but she wouldn't let anything stop her from having this, now that she had it. 

She knew she could've had it more smoothly, but there was no going back. Things could've been worse, anyways. Better not worrying about things out of her control.

She had bettering things to think about now.

That very second day she was home, after getting changed out of that hospital gown she had left on (getting dressed was difficult, but it was something she could do by herself, lying on her bed...)- which she would have to wash and return later- she had her first real meal in a long time, and he was the one who cooked it. He insisted on learning this on his own, on learning to do things for himself. 

For her.

(He was adamant on washing that hospital gown too)

It tasted... not too bad, really. She could appreciate the effort this time. She put on her best smile, and happily ate away. Even if it wasn't the best.

Maybe someday it could be great.

Just watching her eat seemed to overwhelm her brother with so much emotion, that before she could even take her last bite she found him crying over her shoulder with nothing but pure joy.

"W-welcome back, sis...!"

It had been so long since she had been in another Cookie's embrace and really embraced it for herself; something about it just brought her own emotions out. And the two of them spent a good minute or two crying in that awkward position, him standing next to her sitting at the table by that mediocre meal still cooked with love, just grateful that they were both alive and had each other and that they could finally communicate.

And it was their unspoken promise to put communication above all, because that could've saved them so much hardship in the first place.

And they were never going to let anything like this happen ever again.

Over the course of the month, healing had its bumps in the road. Alchemist Cookie and Vampire Cookie were trying their hardest to get better, to make things better- and they were getting better, of course. But both of them would sometimes fall back into old habits: Vampire Cookie would occasionally fail to keep himself in check, and Alchemist Cookie's issues were a chronic mess. He'd sometimes fall to temptation and drink enough to forget, and in turn she would cry her eyes out and sometimes fall to her darker urges, and he would cry his own eyes out the moment he saw what he caused.

But they were both aware, willing to communicate, and ready to work on it all; For themselves, for each other, for family. They'd try to keep an eye on each other, to keep an eye on themselves- Vampire Cookie especially. And the day he was able to go out to the bar and come home by himself, without needing another Cookie to cut him off- the two of them couldn't have been happier. 

Beginning about a week and a half after she came home, her sessions with Chamomile Cookie were... cathartic, in a sense. She had been hesitant to spill to some Cookie that she didn't know, but the soothing, floral aroma of the cabin was enough to put her mind at ease, and she was assured that she could talk about anything on her mind. Knowing she wasn't forced to wrench things out against her will, she just started talking about her day. 

...and eventually, she started loosening up, started spilling her feelings out over a cup of tea, and she found that a burden had been lifted. Chamomile Cookie would listen to her; that Cookie wasn't that conversational, but she was a Cookie who Alchemist Cookie could confide in. 

She was able to engage more socially with other Cookies again. Pretty much the moment her acquaintances had found out she had 'been sick' (of course, certain details were never to be disclosed) and saw the lingering effects, they were all over her, so to speak. Always well-meaning, but sometimes they were a bit much. 

...she'd never really thought of herself as having many real friends. Maybe really any. She just didn't keep in touch enough. She loved having friends, but they always came and went. But seeing so many Cookies going out of their way to talk to her again made her think, perhaps the problem was just that she hadn't been able to see them.

Gingerbrave was ever the friend to all, of course- the moment he'd seen her rolling around the Cookie Kingdom, he had so many questions about what happened to her and if she was healthy and, really, she didn't want to answer most of them. Fortunately, he wouldn't keeping pressing after she asked him to stop. 

He tried to make an effort to include her in any big events- even if he didn't know too much about how wheelchairs worked or how to accommodate for them. But she did notice some construction work being done on the library for a while, and by the end of it a ramp had been installed. 

She just had a hunch on who ordered that, even if it never directly came up between them. But she had it in her head to repay him someday, whenever she could figure out something suitable.

She was happy to go to the library again. She used to spend so much time there, immersing herself in stacks of books from opening to closing while the the smell of paper would stimulate her hunger for knowledge... 

She decided to try actually checking out the books she'd read this time, to read at home for a change. Things had gotten much brighter around the house anyway; she actually had enough lighting to read, now. She wasn't sure if it was just from opening the curtains or what, but...

One day, she ran into Sparkling Cookie, returning those old textbooks she had memorized over. It... made her laugh once she realized what he'd been doing. Even if she had to thank him again. 

(When had she last laughed, again...?)

Once, and only once, she even had Wizard Cookie of all Cookies just walk up to her out of the blue and hand her a 'get well soon' card, muttering something into his scarf that she couldn't quite make out.

...she couldn't exactly call it a half-hearted effort considering he left an entire hand-written message, but...

'Dear Alchemist Cookie,'

He had written that above the card's printed-on 'Get Well Soon!' message. The rest continued below:

'I sincerely hope that you're in good health right now.

What happened to you? Did you get injured or something? Some kind of alchemical accident?

(P.S. if that's what happened, maybe try MAGIC next 

Actually whatever happened, just get better, will you? It's so BORING without you around! I miss debating with you, honestly. (Don't tell anyone I said that or you're as good as crumbled)

Sincerely,

Wizard Cookie'

...it was so funny to her, she had to stifle a laugh when she read it. This was his best attempt, just to say that he cared...?

...he cared...

Even her bitter rival cared.

...Cookies cared about her. Cookies looked at her when she came by, smiled at her, listened to her speak about alchemy on end...

(And maybe they'd always done that. But she'd never looked for it until now.)

And if no one else had time for her some days, she could always come home and cozy up to her brother on the couch at night, and he'd wrap an arm or his cape around her while she read herself to sleep or ramble to him and he'd try to keep up. And he was so pleasantly cool, just enough to warm her heart.

And whatever the future would be, however much she'd recover in the months proceeding, she knew: It was better.

[garbagevanfleet]

Pink Lemonade (series)

PART NINE

Pairing: Sam x female!reader

Word Count: 18k words (my longest chapter of anything, ever)

Summary: Being a counselor at your childhood summer camp had been your dream since you were little and you had a specific vision of how it would go when it finally happened. You had not, however, planned to make an immediate enemy.

WARNINGS (this chapter): EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT - 18+ ONLY, tobacco use, feelings, suspense, talk of drugs.

Editor in Chief (and creator of the moodboard on each chapter): @gardenvanfleet

MASTERPOST

Special Playlist here

You were living in a state of bliss - puppy love, sun-kissed bliss. If your infatuation for Sam weren’t all-consuming, you’d probably feel some form of regret for rejecting this kind of thing all throughout your teenage years - all the missed opportunities. But, as it were, he was all you could think about. You found yourself staring longingly at him across the table at breakfast the next morning, as if your pillow didn’t still smell like him from the night before.

With a little work, you were able to convince him to hang out with you at the lake that day, which served as the perfect excuse to show off a swimsuit you’d packed for camp that was just barely on the wrong side of modest. The Rayban’s he’d worn hid his eyes pretty well, but it pleased you to imagine they were glued to you as you laid out next to him in the sun.

The end of your break was quickly approaching; soon, the grounds would be swarming with kids and counselors again, so you took every opportunity you could to be physically close to him. When the break had started, the five days felt like they’d stretch on endlessly, but you knew everything had an end, so you tried not to mourn its passing before it was even over. 

For once, the need to clean the sunscreen and sweat off your skin had outweighed the desire to be intimately close to him, so when you were done at the beach, you and Sam agreed to part ways to shower in your separate cabins with the agreement that you’d meet up again before dinner. You were toweling off when you heard your phone buzz on the lip of the sink, the vibrations sending it sliding into the basin. 

You’d been expecting a text from Sam - maybe a check-in from Josh - so you were a little puzzled to see it was from the director, asking you to report to his office for a meeting at your earliest convenience. You immediately threw your hair up and assured him you’d be there in just a few moments. 

When you knocked on the director’s door, it only took a few seconds for him to call you in. You had those butterflies you’d get any time you were summoned by authority, but nothing about his body language seemed to be out of the ordinary yet. You sat in the leather chair in front of his desk and offered him a smile when he greeted you. 

“How is this summer going for you?” he asked, though you couldn’t tell if it was just small talk, so you kept your response brief. 

“Very well, I think. I’m really enjoying it the more I get comfortable with the role.”

He nodded curtly. “You’re doing an excellent job.” 

You were aware that he wasn’t the type of man to dole out undue compliments, so you let yourself feel pride in his praise as you thanked him. 

“I called you in today because there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you. Has Sam made you aware of his situation?”

Your stomach sank, leaving you with a sharp panic. You tried to shove the feeling down. Though you were terrified he was going to address the very obvious relationship you’d gotten swept up in, he could just as well be checking up on Sam’s performance. 

“No, sir,” you declined, shaking your head to sell what technically wasn’t a lie.

He hummed. “I had suspected as much. Normally it would be strictly against my policies - personal and otherwise - to share personal information about a counselor, but I think you’ll agree that this is an exception.” He leaned forward in his chair, resting his folded hands on his desktop in a way that told you he wished he didn’t have to have this conversation. “Sam is here as a condition of legal sentencing. Obviously, I won’t disclose any more information about the crime itself, but he’s a counselor with us this summer because he’s serving a sentence.”

It wasn’t tough to keep a straight face since he hadn’t given you anything you didn’t already know, but you braced yourself as you nodded for him to continue.

“I speak regularly with his parole officer - a check-in to ensure everything is going as planned, and from what I’ve seen thus far, he’s been a perfectly adequate counselor. Having had a closer eye on him, would you agree?” 

“Absolutely,” you agreed instantly. You knew Clarence Graywater well enough to know he valued professionalism above anything else, so you tried to approach the subject with a sterile tone instead of gushing the way you’d become accustomed to. “Sam is actually a great counselor. Every cycle of kids has loved him and he’s been a great partner to have - very easy to work with.”

The dark humor behind the situation wasn’t lost on you; if he’d asked you the same question a few weeks ago, who knows how you would have responded. 

“Very well,” he allowed. You might have been able to convince yourself that this was nothing more than a routine evaluation of Sam’s work if it weren’t for the way the director’s mouth tightened at the corners. 

He fixed his eyes on the desk for a beat as he seemed to consider his next words. “Since we can’t very well monitor his behavior for the court if he isn’t here, another condition of Sam’s parole is that he be strictly forbidden from leaving the camp grounds.” After a brief pause for you to process what he was saying, he continued. “That being said, did you and Sam leave the grounds yesterday?” 

You tried as hard as you could to keep the disappointment from your face, but you knew he could see it. Your stomach was in knots as you swallowed back the nervous lump at the back of your throat and nodded. “We did.” You had to force yourself to cautiously ask, “What’s going to happen?”

The director wasn’t one to let his emotions get the better of him, but for the first time since you’d known him, the frown he was wearing showed genuine sympathy for your situation. “I’m sure you understand how serious this is. I don’t see any other choice but to report this back to the proper authorities. Please get yourself prepared to proceed without a partner for the last two cycles - we’ll split his future campers up amongst other counselors.” 

You liked to think you could handle a lot. You’d always been able to stay cool under pressure, but you could feel your bottom lip starting to quiver pathetically. Unable to fully control your volume, you blurted, “No, wait. Please - this isn’t Sam’s fault.” 

“Then who would you place the blame on?” he asked, though hadn’t seemed to make a firm decision, leaving you to hope that you could reason with him. 

“Me. I was the one that asked him to go to town with me. We went there to get supplies for the campers - little stuff like snacks and prizes for the games we play with the kids. I asked him to go because I thought he’d know what to pick out for his boys better than I would.” Again, not technically a lie. 

“Sam was well aware of the conditions of his sentencing,” the director replied, shocking you by still keeping a sympathetic approach. 

“But I was the one-” You cut yourself off in frustration before trying again. “You have to agree that there’s a power imbalance between us - even though we’re both new counselors here this summer, I’m the one that’s familiar with how everything works. I’m positive he felt as though he couldn’t say no. He may not have even really considered it ‘leaving the grounds’, since we were going to get supplies for the campers here. It’s a moral gray area at best.”

He was visibly struggling with the decision as he stared at nothing in particular. “What would you have me do then?”

You let your eyes slip shut as you tried to banish the emotions that were swallowing you up. “Please. Please, consider not reporting this. He’s more than halfway through this summer. I don’t want to have to do this alone, and I don’t want to have to get familiar with a new partner.” 

He remained stony-faced with his eyes fixed on you. “You’re proposing I let Sam break the terms of a legal sentence?”

“Please. This is my fault and I’ll take full responsibility for it,” you stated. “I never break rules, but I can’t see the harm in letting this one slide. You’re the director of this camp; if you feel like you must report this to his officer, you could explain that you assigned us to get supplies and he was monitored the whole time by a trusted member of your staff - because he was. I was with him every second that we were away from here.” 

A few long seconds passed by, marked by the rhythmic ticking of the antique standing clock against the far wall of his office. You held your breath until your lungs started to ache for air as you awaited his final judgment, and finally, he cleared his throat to speak. 

“I’m not going to report this, but believe me when I say I don’t enjoy being put in this position. If anything like this happens again, I won’t hesitate to take action.”

This time you didn’t even try to disguise the relief you felt as you heaved out a breath. “Thank you so much.” 

“Find something for the two of you to do as adequate punishment,” he instructed, leaning back in his chair as the heavy cloud hanging over the room dissipated. He waved you out with a little smile, letting you know he still had a soft spot for you as a counselor. Still, you didn’t waste any time getting out of his line of sight, lest he change his mind. 

It wasn’t until you got out of the building and onto the dirt path that you started to feel it - this crippling anger weighing you down. It was different than the frustrated jealousy you’d felt not that long ago at breakfast. This felt more like true betrayal. 

You let yourself soak in it on the walk back to your cabin. Sam was conveniently standing just outside his door, so clearly unsuspecting as he stamped out his cigarette with a pleased smile. “There you are. I was wondering where you could have snuck off to.” 

You reached past him and opened his cabin door, planted a hand on his chest, and guided him inside, all without saying a word; you knew there weren’t a lot of people around, but you didn’t want to risk the off chance that someone would hear you lay into him.

“Sam, I just got back from the director’s office,” you stated firmly.

Instantly, you could see it click into place for him as a worried frown formed over his features. Still, he had the audacity to ask, “What- Why?” 

“You know why,” you snapped, not bothering to dampen the acid in your tone.

He bit into his bottom lip and muttered a curse in dread for what you were about to say to him.

“Why would you do something like that?!”

He flinched just slightly at your volume, but you could see his posture hardening in defense. “Why the fuck would he have called you in and not me?”

Ignoring his question, you demanded, “Why would you put me in a position like that? Why wouldn’t you have just said no when I asked if you wanted to go into town?” 

“I don’t know, you just looked so hopeful-”

You shook your head. “No, don’t you dare put this on me. You could have just told me you weren’t allowed to leave the fucking grounds - that you were breaking the fucking law!” 

“It’s embarrassing,” he reasoned with a deep-set frown. “I honestly figured that since everyone was gone and we were on break, no one would notice if I was gone for a couple of hours.”

“That’s stupid, and you know it.”

He didn’t bother denying it. Instead he just quietly asked, “So, I’m leaving then? They’re sending me back?” 

A bitter laugh escaped you. “No, Sam, you’re not. You’re not, because I talked him out of reporting it - because I took responsibility for it.” 

You’d been expecting him to look relieved, but instead, he adopted a frustrated expression. With a tight-set jaw and a quiet kind of outrage, he asked, “What?”

“I took responsibility for your stupid choice,” you snarled unforgivingly. “I’ve worked hard to earn the director’s trust and I’m so humiliated, Sam.” 

Behind his eyes, you could see him sorting through his emotions, trying to figure out how he should feel. You were hopeful for a second that he’d come to his senses - that he’d apologize and thank you profusely and recognize your sacrifice for what it was, but your stomach sunk as his eyebrows threaded together in a deep frown. He snapped, cold and petulant, “No one asked you to do that. I don’t need you to speak for me, nor do I want it.”

The response felt like a kick in the teeth, forcing you to take a second to gather your thoughts back up. When you could speak, you found that it came out as a jagged cry. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be going to fucking jail, Sam! The very least you could do is thank me and apologize, but honestly, I’d expect something closer to groveling.” 

There was a fire burning in him, making his normally soft, brown eyes look sharp and spiteful. “I’m not a fucking child. I didn’t ask you to take the fall for me - you did that all on your own. I made my choice and you made yours.” 

You just stared at him, slowly shaking your head in disbelief. The few seconds of silence in the room was crushingly heavy as all the fight drained from you, leaving you feeling empty. You couldn’t see the point in wasting any more emotional energy on him, so your voice was calm and small as you told him, “You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met in my life. I guess this is for the best.”

The sudden lack of hostility seemed to sober him. Once the outrage cleared and he got a look of just how disappointed you were, he softened, ripping his eyes away and casting them elsewhere. In your infinite naivety, you gave him a couple of seconds to apologize - to make it even a little bit better - but, he faltered. 

You decided you didn’t want to wait for him to slap together some pitiful explanation. He called your name as you turned around and left him there, but you answered only by shutting the door hard behind you. You hoped that the lack of closure would haunt him. Just a few hours ago, he’d had access to nearly every single part of you, but the one thing you weren’t willing to give him was the satisfaction of seeing you cry. 

❀❀❀

The next few hours felt like months - they crawled by with a frustrating reluctance as you sat with your back against the headboard of your bed and your face buried in your bent knees. 

Just like that, you’d run the entire gamut of a romantic relationship - start to finish. This was just the bookend. The after.  

You knew there were people in the world that experienced real tragedy, but this hurt. In that moment, the only thing you could feel was the ache - the loss and betrayal, leaving you without any perspective on just how mundane an issue it actually was.  

You were able to find a little comfort in reminding yourself that Josh would be back sometime the following day, and whether it was true or not, you assured yourself that he’d know how to help. 

He showed up early the next day, some time shortly after breakfast (which Sam was predictably absent for). When he knocked on your cabin door, you’d had a fleeting moment of hopeful panic that it would be Sam. 

Josh was wearing a little smile when you opened the door, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coral-colored shorts as he absently rocked on his white sneakers. He greeted you with a side hug, and you hadn’t been intending to, but you pulled him in fully, a little too tight to just be casually happy to see someone. 

The truth was that it was such a relief to not be alone with your thoughts, and the comforting presence of your best friend was exactly what you’d needed.

There was the slightest hesitation, like he was trying to figure out if he was missing something, before he gave a confused laugh and hugged you back. “It’s nice to see you too,” he joked, but he tensed entirely when you pulled away and he got a good look at you. 

Josh’s brown eyes scanned over your defeated posture, his expression slipping into one of concern when he recognized the state you were in. “Are you alright?” he asked, following you back to your room. 

With how tight your throat felt, you knew you couldn’t trust your voice to not make a fool of you, so you settled for shrugging at him. It obviously wasn’t a satisfying answer, so he repeated the question, a little more pointedly as he sat next to you on your bed. 

After deciding there was no point in lying to him by playing it off, you pursed your lips and shook your head. 

There was a genuine sympathy behind the way he cautiously placed a hand in the center of your back, between your shoulder blades, reminding you that this was your friend - that he was just about the safest person on earth to confide in. 

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he prompted, using a tone of voice that gave you an out in case you wanted to say no. 

It took a few good seconds for you to gather enough courage to speak after you parted your lips. You couldn’t quite meet his eyes, so you fixed them on a knot in the hardwood floor boards as you admitted to him, “Everything fell apart.” 

“With Sam?” 

You nodded. “Yeah.” 

Josh hadn’t known you for that long, and going through heartbreak together was uncharted territory; there was a bit of uncertainty in guessing how you liked to be comforted. It was clear that he wasn’t sure in his decision to hold out his hand for you, but you took it without hesitation, using it to pull yourself closer to him until your side was pressed to his. 

You felt him let out a little breath in preparation before requesting, “Tell me what happened.”  

“He’s just so fucking-” You started off with a harsh, bitter tone, but cut yourself off instantly - despite how he’d hurt you, Sam was still Josh’s brother and it didn’t feel right. When you spoke again, it was more restrained and collected. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to leave and so we went into town on a date- I asked him if he wanted to and he didn’t tell me he couldn’t, Josh.” 

He stiffened next to you, wearing a frightened look when you met his eyes. “Fuck. Is he okay- Is he still here?” 

You closed your eyes and nodded. For some reason, the thing that suddenly choked you up was that you’d never heard Josh swear like that until it came to concern for his brother. 

Since the fight with Sam, you’d been counting down the seconds until you could talk to Josh about it, but now that the moment was upon you, all you could muster was a weak, flat tone of explanation.

“Yes, he’s still here. Graywater called me into his office yesterday to question me about it. He was going to report it, but I convinced him not to.”

Josh’s features sloped into a puzzled frown as he cautiously asked, “Sam’s not in trouble at all?” 

You breathed a humorless laugh and shook your head. “No.” 

You tried not to feel upset at the relieved exhale Josh gave upon hearing that confirmation. “You took the blame for him?” 

“Yep.” 

There was a silent pause before he chanced, “And how did he take it?” 

“Not well, Josh,” you stated sourly. 

Josh let his eyes slip shut as he let out a long, frustrated sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and, in an exasperated whisper, he breathed to no one in particular, “Oh, no...Sam.”

“He was genuinely angry.” You waited a beat before admitting, “Granted, I was fucking mad at him for not telling me and putting me in that position in the first place, but I’m fucking stupid for expecting him to apologize.” 

He shook his head at you, half-pleading, “Don’t do that to yourself. This isn’t your fault.” 

You swallowed back a sob; you’d been carrying around so much guilt, that hearing him absolve you of it was like the snap of a rubber band. When he heard it, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“It’s okay.” A deep frown was audible behind the assurance as he offered it to you.

You shook your head as best you could with your cheek against his shoulder. “It’s not.” 

“Listen, I know this hurts - I can only imagine, but take a deep breath,” he requested, waiting until you did so to continue. “You’ve got a choice to make now. You can pack it up and walk away from whatever it is you two have - no one on earth could blame you for that. The summer will come to an end, you’ll go home, and you probably won’t ever see him again. This’ll all just morph into a fond memory some day.”

You should find that idea comforting, but instead, after a couple of silent seconds, you prompted, “Or?”

“Or, you could forgive him.”

You huffed exasperatedly. “It’s kinda hard to forgive someone that doesn’t understand how he’s fucked up.”

Josh shook his head and warned, “No, no. Don’t mistake his stubbornness for stupidity - he’s not stupid. I promise you that Sam knows exactly what he’s done. I’m willing to bet he’s sitting in his cabin beating the shit out of himself right now.” 

“I don’t care,” you informed him flatly, prompting him to hum in amusement. 

“I don’t either,” he agreed, making you crack a smile that he couldn’t see thanks to the position you were sitting in, leaning against him. “But, my point is - he does care. Despite his very poor choices, he cares about you a lot, which lands you on the very short list of people that can claim the same.”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, feeling the ache of grief at the thought. “Sometimes I think he only cares about himself.” 

“I didn’t ask him to stay with you that night of the party,” he admitted after a silent moment of consideration, wearing a little smile. “I am guilty of some meddling between you two, but not that.”

You frowned, pulling your cheek off his shoulder so you could look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I asked him to walk you back to your cabin that night because I was trying to see how much he’d do for you. I knew he was soft for you, but I wanted to know just how bad it was.” 

“Did he tell you he liked me?” you tried, grasping for something to help you understand.

Josh snickered at you. “C’mon - he didn’t have to. I’ve seen the way he treats people he actually dislikes. If you genuinely don’t like someone, you go out of your way to not be around them. If you don’t like them, you don’t pick on them. All you two ever did was just rough flirting, as far as I could tell.” 

Your eyes narrowed accusingly as you felt your face flush pink. “There were times when he was genuinely kinda mean to me.” 

He rolled his eyes fondly, but you weren’t sure if it was meant for you or Sam. “That’s because he’s lousy at letting people in. I think he panicked when he realized how close he was to getting what he wanted.” He paused for a second and then pointedly added, “Which is obviously you.” 

You stared at him as you tried to process what he was saying, but when you realized you didn’t have the energy or time necessary to do so, you asked, “So...the party?” 

“Ah, right. So, when I asked him to walk you back to your cabin, I was hoping maybe it would help him realize that he had feelings for you, but I never expected him to stay with you,” Josh explained and then snorted a laugh. “You should have seen his face - the moment when he realized you’d told me he lied and said I made him stay. I swear to god he was ready to physically fight me if I brought it up to him, but I never did.” 

“Are you gonna talk to him now?” you asked carefully, dreading the answer. The last thing you wanted was to create tension between the two of them, and you knew Sam would take that confrontation even more poorly than he had with you.

“No,” he assured. “I’m going to try as hard as I can to stay out of it unless he directly asks me for advice, but he won’t.” 

You hummed, considering. “What if I never want to see him again? Can you and I still be friends?” 

He frowned and then took your hand to give it a little squeeze. “Of course. We were friends before him.” 

Offering him a smile was really all you could think to do. The truth was that you didn’t know how you wanted to proceed with Sam, but it made you feel full and warm to know that you’d always have a friend like Josh. 

He did an excellent job of keeping you distracted for the rest of the day. You decided that, for your punishment, you’d work on cleaning up the beach; it wasn’t like people actively littered, but things would fall off boats or blow out of trash cans, make their way into the water, and inevitably end up strewn about the sand. Josh walked with you, picking up an odd piece of garbage here and there and tucking it into the bag you were carrying when you held it open for him. 

As nice as it felt to be doing something good with a person that always made you feel at ease, the weight of your problems had a physical effect on you, and that grew tenfold, the moment you’d gotten back to your cabin. The knowledge that new campers would be showing up in the morning was like a looming fist hanging over you - not because you didn’t want to do this job, but simply because that meant you’d be forced to interact with Sam again. 

The time came too soon. Counselors started getting lined up right after breakfast was finished, ready to be debriefed about the upcoming cycle of kids, but Sam didn’t show up until the last minute. You pointedly didn’t look at him directly, because, frankly, you didn’t want to know how he was doing. 

You weren’t sure whether or not he’d hold his head high and pretend like nothing had happened, or if he’d look a little downtrodden, maybe even apologetic, but you didn’t care to know. You told yourself it wouldn’t make a difference anyway - you’d be able to maintain your coldness towards him, no matter what he appeared to be feeling, but you knew it was a lie. You knew that if he did look sad, it would only leave you with unwarranted guilt, and you refused to let that happen. As Sam took his place beside you, you glanced up at Josh to catch him giving you a sympathetic, tight little smile that you forced yourself to return. 

The children were sweet and excited, which helped a great deal; it was hard to be angry when they were beaming toothy grins at each other. It served to remind you that, no matter what drama you were experiencing, it wasn’t fair to the children to let them shoulder the burden with you. They were there to have a fun, educational two weeks, and you decided then and there that you were going to set aside your issues with Sam whenever they were around, but that quickly proved to be easier said than done. 

For the first couple of hours, you were able to go off on your own with your girls, getting acquainted with them, but that could only last so long. One timeslot before dinner, you were set to do a forest foliage activity as a whole team, and the entire day, you kept looking at your schedule like it would magically change. You tried to hype yourself up on the walk to the meeting place. You told yourself it would be okay - that all you had to do was remember how shitty he’d been to you, and it would be easy to stay hating him, but you were fucking wrong. You kept your eyes anywhere else but on him as you approached the group of boys, but it didn’t matter how justified your anger was - the second you met his gaze, you lost your grip on it. 

He was standing with his hands in the pockets of his shorts, his hair tied back more carelessly than he usually opted for. If you hadn’t spent so much of the last few weeks studying his features, you surely wouldn’t have noticed the slight bags under his eyes. His face was void of an expression, but not in the controlled way he used to wear to convince you of how bored he was by it all - now, he just looked spent. He looked like a child’s toy that was nearing the end of its battery life. 

When he met your stare, you realized that Josh was right - Sam was visibly perfectly aware of how he’d hurt you. 

Naively, you’d been praying you’d look at him and feel disgusted. You’d sincerely hoped that you’d see his face and find that you didn’t want him anymore. You wanted the pain he’d inflicted to be enough to override the infatuation that once consumed your every passing second - but it didn’t. He let you hold his eyes for a few seconds before ripping them away to fix his focus on the ground, and that hurt so much worse than anything he’d done up to that point. 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting - it wasn’t like he was going to rush up to you and pull you into his arms. It wasn’t even reasonable for you to expect that he’d apologize - not in front of all of these unknowing kids. Still, you were learning, more and more every day, that emotions don’t abide by the rules of logic. It didn’t make a difference - it still hurt.

You introduced him to your girls as the boys’ counselor but didn’t speak a word to Sam directly as you walked them through the ins and outs of regional wild plants. You barely had to consult your manual to teach them what was poisonous and some history about what certain things were once used for, all the while, reminding them that it was never okay to eat anything you found in the forest. Sam seemed more or less content to just let you take over, which, stupidly, also upset you. It was starting to become clear that there was nothing he could have done that wouldn’t piss you off - you’d have been seething if he’d chimed in without prompting. 

At the end of the activity, you left any parting nicety unsaid and headed off to dinner separately. True to “first day” form, your girls stuck close to your side, carrying on a riveting conversation about iceberg lettuce as you lead them through the food line, and when it came time to pick a table, you breathed a sigh of relief to find that Josh was alone at a table with a few of his boys, working on opening milk cartons and sauce packets for them. 

“Can we sit?” you asked him, receiving a slightly-confused smile back. 

“Of course, make yourselves comfy.” 

Quiet enough that only a few kids and Josh could hear, you added, “I guess I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to sit with Sam.” 

He took on a sympathetic expression as he flicked his eyes across the room. You followed the direction to see Sam, sitting with his boys pooled around him towards the back corner of the hall. Another counselor you didn’t recognize was at the table too, but they weren’t interacting with anyone but their own campers.

Deep, deep within you, you felt bad, but you put on a cold expression, deciding to say nothing, lest something truly mean accidentally slip out. You were sure that it would only be a couple of days before his campers were off on their own and Sam was back to eating in his cabin. 

For the rest of the meal, he went unmentioned. Instead, the Maple boys excitedly told you and your girls all about the farmette activity they’d just had with Josh, melting your chilled heart by gushing excitedly about the baby animals. 

You leaned across the table towards a couple of them. Employing a playful, hushed tone as if it were a secret, you asked them, “Josh didn’t steal any kittens, did he?”

Josh let out a gasp of faux offense, putting his hand on his chest to exaggeratedly object. “I would never. How could you accuse me of something like that?” 

Just as you’d hoped, that sent the group of kids sitting around you into fits of giggles, and for the first time in too long, everything felt okay. 

❀❀❀

For the remainder of that week, you were successfully able to avoid speaking to Sam directly. Every day, he became less of a main character in your life, and every day, the anger subsided a little bit more. 

You were still upset, of course; what he’d done had been shitty and wrong, but it wasn’t weighing you down like it once had. It used to feel like that fight had left you with a kind of heartache plague, but you found yourself going whole days without thinking of him unless your eyes were on him directly. 

Your logical brain thought it would be efficient to plan it all out - if you kept letting go of a little anger at a time, you’d likely feel perfectly okay by the end of the summer. You still expected it would hurt when you dug into the memory of it, but that’s all he’d be - a memory.

Except, shit never works that way, and you, apparently, never learn. During a free period, you were getting some of your things organized in your room when there was a gentle knock on the door. 

In honesty, you had such faith in it being Josh, that you hadn’t even considered you’d answer the door to see Sam standing in front of you in a pair of jean shorts and his yellow camp shirt. 

“What?” You shocked yourself with how sharp your tone was, and you were suddenly grateful that all your girls were off on their own - they didn’t need to see you act like this. 

In the opposite direction, he used a sheepish demeanor that was so unlike him that it took you off guard. “Hey,” he offered simply. “Should we go pack for the trip?” 

You let your eyes slip shut in exasperation. In the pursuit of getting him off your mind, you’d forgotten all about the camping trip - it had slipped your thoughts so thoroughly, that you assumed he was there to apologize. 

Instead of actively addressing the fact that you’d forgotten, you just shook your head, just on the wrong side of bitterness as you declined. “No, I’ll do it alone in a bit.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you and asked, “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

He pulled his eyes from your to roll them tiredly. “You’re really going to do all this work by yourself because you don’t want to be in the same room as me?” 

“Yep. How does it feel?” you spat back, clearly referencing how he used to do the same to you. 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t the way his shoulders slumped. You’d never seen him look so dejected, but it was pretty easy to deduce that he wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty - he was just past the point of being able to hold back his guilt. 

“Bad,” he admitted simply. “But I’m not going to let you pack all that shit alone.”

Just like that, the fire was lit again. Your hands balled into fists as you sarcastically drawled, “Oh, you’re not going to let me?” 

Shocking you, yet again, Sam offered no hostility to match yours; if he was angry, you saw no evidence of it. He put his hands up in surrender. 

“Listen, let’s just go do this and get it over with. You don’t have to like me - you don’t even have to be cordial, but I’m here to help.”

As much as it pained you to acknowledge, even in your own head, he was right. But, who the fuck was he to suddenly be acting like a responsible adult? That’s what you’d wanted from day one, but the character development now?

It felt like a slight. 

You let out a suspiciously tight scoff, and you rolled your eyes dramatically to hide the fact that they were starting to water. 

“Fine, whatever. I’ll meet you down there in fifteen,” you informed him coldly, turning on your heel and shutting the door in his face. 

You heard his shoes crunching up the rocky dirt as he walked away from the cabins, and you waited until the sound was faint enough before letting out a choked-back sob. You counted yourself lucky that it was solitary - you were able to push everything else back after you dabbed at your eyes. 

You considered standing him up as you surveyed yourself in your bathroom mirror, just to make damn sure he wasn’t clued into how that interaction had affected you. In the end, you decided it would be beyond childish - you were still a counselor, this was still your job, and he was still your partner, no matter how deeply and thoroughly you lamented it. 

When you showed up to the dining hall, he was already in the kitchen, pulling down the familiar red cooler from the shelves. The only acknowledgment you received upon entering was his eyes flicking up from his task to meet yours, and only for a split second, but that was fine by you. 

The room was tense and uncomfortable as you both silently packed. You made sure to be conscious of where he was so you could keep a good distance between the two of you, but you must have lost track of him at some point - you turned to grab the ice packs out of the freezer and ran directly into him. Your chests collided, knocking the breath from your lungs and sending the ice packs skittering across the tile with the solid impact.

It was exactly like that first day of camp, except this time, he was the one wearing an apologetic grimace, waiting for you to snap. He had ahold of your arms as he steadied you, but you pulled away from his touch out of panic and stumbled back against the island in the middle of the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, causing you to exasperatedly shake your head. 

“It’s fine,” you dismissed flatly, nodding your chin towards the door. “Go. I can get the rest.” 

Out of your peripheral vision, you could see him staring at you in disappointed uncertainty for a few prolonged seconds before exiting the room. To your deep dismay, soon after he was gone, you found that it didn’t feel as satisfying to be alone as you hoped it would. 

The next day was the worst you’d had on the grounds of Camp Forest Springs. From the moment breakfast was over, you were stuck with Sam. He was with you while you collected the packed coolers, and he brought up the rear on the walk out to the campsite. He was there, falling into the routine of crafting a fire in the pit and right by your side as you prepared the food, and you were forced into learning a tough lesson: All the progress you’d thought you’d made with unraveling your feelings for him was simply because you’d been able to create physical distance between the two of you. You hadn’t had to see him. Or hear his voice. Or smell him when he was close enough, but suddenly, it was like you were bound to him. 

The entire time you were out there, you’d been dreading bedtime. On one hand, going to bed would mean that this experience was almost over. On the other, it meant you were nearing a milestone; for the past three cycles, you’d met him outside in the middle of the night. It had become an unspoken tradition that you once looked forward to.

But, as you slipped into your sleeping bag, the only thing you could think of was the conversation you’d had with Josh when he got back from break. You had a choice to make. Foolishly, you hoped maybe Sam wouldn’t do it - that maybe he’d spare you the burden, but there was no such luck; about an hour after you’d gone to bed, you heard the tell-tale rustling sound of him sneaking out of his tent. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, pursing your lips anxiously. Multiple times, you considered going out to talk to him - just because you would meet him out there didn’t mean you’d have to forgive him, right? You could have it both ways - you could keep your dignity by staying mad and still go out to see him, right?

It was nothing but a pretty lie you were trying to convince yourself of. You wanted to forgive him - you missed him and the way he talked and his unguarded, goofy laugh, but you had to protect yourself. 

With your face buried into the fabric of your pillow, you tried to keep quiet as you cried, but it became increasingly difficult when, after about twenty minutes of waiting for you, he made his way back to his tent and slipped inside. You weren’t sure how long you laid there, struggling to breathe through your choked sobbing, but one thing was for sure - you’d certainly made a choice. 

❀❀❀

You couldn’t bring yourself to meet Sam’s eyes the next morning, but he didn’t seem to be going out of his way to get your attention. Maybe he was hoping you hadn’t heard him last night, either to spare himself the embarrassment of being rejected or to hold onto the hope that everything was still going to work itself out. 

The guilt ate you alive to the point that you texted Josh to come to your cabin during your first free period the following day. He arrived chipper as usual but his expression fell the second he realized you’d been crying again. 

You did your best to explain it all to him, but he had to put in some effort to make out certain parts when you got too choked up to speak properly.

“I feel so fucking bad,” you told him once you felt like you could catch your breath. “How do people get through this and still function?” 

He hummed through a sympathetic smile. “Love’s just like that. But, I would like to also point out - you’re getting through it and functioning.”

You barked out a humorless laugh. “Barely. If you could call this ‘functioning’.”

“Well, I’ve yet to see you let the quality of your work slip. But, maybe you should think about what this means. Maybe you feel this bad right now because you don’t want to let him go.” While he spoke, he rubbed comforting circles into your back with a firm palm. 

You groaned, tipping your head back in frustration. “Don’t tell me that.” 

There was an amused little tilt to his lips as he replied, “I don’t think I have to. I think you already know.” He paused a second before cautiously continuing. “It hurts this bad because you love him.”

You shot him a look that was supposed to be an accusatory glare but ended up as a pleading frown. “I don’t know if I can do it.” 

“I’m not saying you have to or even should. I’m just saying - I think you should hear him out.” 

“Okay, but first he would actually have to apologize.” 

“If he apologizes,” Josh agreed with a nod. “But I have a feeling that he will.” 

You weren’t as sure, but in the moment, the affirmation helped ease a little of the ache, so you let it slide. 

❀❀❀

Sam stayed true to his unspoken stance on letting you eat your meals in peace, even when your and Josh’s kids started branching off on their own, leaving open seats at your table. Even you had to admit, it was kinda sweet. Whenever he’d avoided eating meals with you in the past, it was so he could be alone in his cabin, but he surprised you by sticking by his kids, letting them plant themselves next to him for every mealtime. 

More to his credit, even with you giving him the coldest possible atmosphere every time he was within twenty feet of you, he stayed cordial - open, even - to your attention, should you choose to give it to him. The dynamic stayed like that for a couple of days, but you could feel the tension starting to build. 

It didn’t feel hostile at all - at least, not on his part. You could feel him looking at you, either staring absently or sneaking quick peeks when he thought you were focused on something else. 

The dam finally broke on the last day of that cycle. The special activity was making tie-dyed t-shirts with your kids, and while it was fun to watch them get really excited about all the possible colors, you knew the second they announced it that it was going to be a monumental mess. Everyone was given rain ponchos and medical gloves, but that didn’t help with the kid that accidentally splashed lime green on your face as you were bent over to help her. 

She had obviously not done it on purpose and she was immediately apologetic, but you were left trying to wipe the little dots of pigment from your cheeks in the camera of your phone. You were so focused on yourself on the little screen that you hadn’t realized Sam was standing right in front of you until you heard him speak. 

“You should leave it - I think it suits you,” he suggested with a little smile, far too playful for what the nature of your current relationship called for. You lowered your phone to find him visibly questioning whether that was an okay thing to say, and it took everything in you to pretend it wasn’t charming, because you sure as fuck wished it weren’t. 

As punishment for cracking your resolve so easily, you kept a blank expression as you stared directly into his eyes and let him stew in the tense uncertainty for a few long seconds before asking, “What do you want?” 

He worried his lips together at your sharp tone before he worked up the courage to meekly joke, “All business these days, huh?” When he realized you were only going to stare impatiently for a few more fleeting moments before he would lose his chance, he cleared his throat and softly asked, “I’m just hoping- Can we talk?”

Despite Josh’s words about “hearing him out” ringing in your head, before you could stop it, you snapped, “No.” 

He frowned for only a second before breathing a nervous laugh and trying again. “Okay, can I talk and you listen?” 

After wrestling with yourself, you let out a long, relenting sigh. “Talk,” you allowed through an impatient tone. 

Looking genuinely relieved, he glanced around to make sure no campers were within earshot, but all of them were preoccupied, having spread out and spilled over into other groups to socialize. 

He briefly gathered his thoughts and then admitted, “I miss you. A lot.”

It wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, and you would have found it repulsively unacceptable if it weren’t for the genuine emotion behind it. It was quiet and breathy. Humble. He was lowering himself to you in a way he never had before. 

It didn’t make everything right, but it did get your attention. Still, you weren’t going to let him off the hook that easily, even if he did look particularly lovely with his hair freshly washed and wavy as the summer breeze brushed the tips of it against his collarbones. 

“Did Josh put you up to this?” you asked, keeping your tone from letting on that a part of you desperately wanted to forget every undesirable thing he’d ever said or done.

He drew in a slow breath as he figured out how he wanted to answer. “I was under the impression that the right way to approach the situation was to leave you alone. Y’know, since you really seemed like you wanted to be...left..alone.” 

The explanation was choppy as he pulled the thought from his lagging brain.  

“I just wanted to show you that I could respect that,” he continued, finally answering your question before adding, “But he told me that was ‘fucking stupid’ - his words, not mine.”

That was what did it. You weren’t quick enough to stop the smile that broke your façade but seeing it seemed to give him a cautious optimism that was almost worth it. You schooled your expression back to something serious just a second later to press him further. “Okay, but were you just not going to apologize to me?” 

“Honest to god, I really thought you’d see me coming to you to apologize as selfish - like you think I was only doing it so I could rid myself of some of the guilt.” 

You scanned his features for sincerity, not rushing yourself, even though he was visibly anxious. When you decided he was being genuine, you stated, “That’s also ‘fucking stupid’.”

A tired little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he nodded. “Yeah, he said the same thing.” After a beat of him realizing you were waiting on him to continue, he hurried to add, “So, I intended to come over here today to just apologize to you - I was going to tell you that you don’t have to be nice to me or forgive me, but- Well, I’m bad at this. So, when I opened my mouth, that’s...obviously not what came out.” 

You huffed a humorless laugh and rolled your eyes. “It still hasn’t come out, and I’ve been listening to you talk for like two minutes - which is a hell of a lot longer than you deserve.” 

He quickly nodded. “I know. I am sorry, but I don’t think I can give the heartfelt apology you deserve without attracting some attention. So, I was hoping we could talk again tomorrow. In private.” He paused for comedic effect and then playfully finished with, “Y’know, in case I cry.” 

He was right - if you were ever going to get the emotion from him that you were owed, you were going to have to have the comfort of privacy. Just because you didn’t want him thinking he was off the hook, you rolled your eyes, though there was a shade of fondness buried in the gesture despite your wishes. “Fine.” 

The breath he let out was visibly relieved as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jean shorts. You nodded at the bright purple dye splattered down his upper arm, visible due to him having ripped the sleeves off his t-shirt at some point in the past. 

“But, you’re probably gonna wanna wash that off sooner rather than later.”

He glanced down to the spot and a genuine smile spread across his mouth, like he was tickled-fucking-pink to be talking about literally anything else. You figured that was a pretty good time to make your exit, before he could coax any more niceties out of you. 

❀❀❀

You spent the next morning seeing your campers off, making sure to not meet Sam’s eyes from across the dirt pick-up area - you didn’t want him assuming he had any place in your thoughts, even though he was all you thought about half the time. 

He hadn’t given you any specific time he was planning to stop by, so after getting back to your cabin, you took a long shower, deciding that you weren’t going to plan your day around him. As you washed off all the sweat and dirt, you tried to mentally prepare yourself for whatever was going to spill out his mouth, and at the end, you had a renewed sense of confidence. You reminded yourself that he was just coming over to apologize. You were under no obligation to forgive him or even treat him kindly, even if he was making an honest effort. 

He finally showed up about halfway through the day, giving you a tight little smile as you swung open the cabin door. Instead of greeting him, you stepped aside as a prompt for him to enter, and he did so wordlessly. 

You leaned back against the shut door and stared at him until he figured out that you were waiting for him to speak, and upon that realization, he started in a haste. 

“Sorry that it took me so long. I wanted to give you time to enjoy being child-free again,” he explained and then continued with cautious hopefulness. “I think you’d be proud of me - I already took all the laundry down to be washed.” 

“I suppose I would be if circumstances were different,” you admitted, crossing your arms over your chest protectively. “But they’re not.”

He let out a long breath, cast his eyes to the knotted wooden floor and then nodded. “You’re right.” 

“You know, it’s not even about you not telling me you weren’t supposed to leave the grounds - that was obviously shitty of you, but I could have forgiven you easily enough. But, having you get angry at me for trying to help fix your fuck up was fucking heartbreaking, Sam.”

“I know,” he spoke softly, but you just shook your head at him. 

“No, I don’t think you do,” you objected, starting to feel your sinuses sting with the threat of tears that you immediately worked to fight off. “I thought we were so far past that. We’d been spending so much time together and everything felt so easy with you for the first time. I finally didn’t feel like I was walking on eggshells to try and stay in your good graces.” 

After taking some time to process what you were saying, he finally looked you in the eye and, in the most sincere tone you’d ever heard him use, he told you, “I’m sorry. You deserved better than that. There’s really no suitable excuse, so I won’t try to make one up, but I hate knowing I hurt you like that. I regretted it instantly but I was too much of a prideful jackass to apologize before you left.”

You were pretty sure he was done speaking until he seemed to remember something and then sucked in a quick breath before adding, “And, thank you. I know I would be sitting in a jail cell right now if it weren’t for you sticking your neck out.”

Admittedly, you weren’t sure what to say. You’d been worried you’d be tempted to forgive him instantly - without question, but you found no such temptation. You nodded at him, offering only a little “okay”. 

He looked just a little disappointed in this interaction ending this way, but he was making an honest effort to hide it, which you appreciated - you couldn’t handle having to feel guilty on top of everything else. Thankfully, he left without another word, only tossing you the same tight smile he’d been wearing upon entering your cabin. 

❀❀❀

When you told Josh all about what happened, he seemed earnestly happy for you and Sam both that the worst part was behind you. “It’s all uphill from here,” he’d said, but you weren’t so sure. Sure, maybe the worst part was behind you, but that didn’t mean anything past that would be pleasant. 

Sam stuck true to his word - you never felt like he was trying to butter you up or work his way back into your good graces. He actually hadn’t even addressed you about anything other than work until the day before this cycle’s camping trip. 

When he showed up at your door to ask if you were ready to pack up the food, he’d offered to meet you down in the kitchen like you had last time, but you declined. After all, it was silly to make you each walk there separately when you were headed to the same place at the same time. 

Neither of you said a word as you paced the trails, but it wasn’t uncomfortable the way it had been before. Finally, after months of this, he felt like your co-worker. Just your co-worker. It was what you’d thought you’d wanted from the beginning, but you found you didn’t like him like this very much either. Which left you with an odd dilemma. You hated having Sam as your adversary, but you didn’t like having him as a friend either - not after everything you’d experienced with him. It felt incomplete. 

But, you didn’t know if you had it in you to truly forgive him. Or to let yourself love him again, not in the unbridled way you had before.

As you pulled food from the cabinet and set it on the kitchen island to be sorted and packed away, for the first time in a while, you heard him let out a quiet sigh. You couldn’t see his expression because he was facing the fridge, but it was quick, as if he were preparing himself for something. 

He spun around on his heel and met your eyes, wearing a smile that didn’t quite cover the concern in his eyes. “I have something to say.” 

“I can see that,” you noted with a nod, keeping your tone a little flat but not cold. “Say it, then.” 

His eyes flicked around as he sunk his top row of teeth into his bottom lip. “Look, I’ve never been good at talking about my feelings. I’m kind of notorious for it actually,” he unnecessarily informed you with an anxious-sounding laugh. “I always trip myself up thinking that I’m not going to be able to put my thoughts to words so I just don’t even try.”

He saw your features slip into a slight frown in your confusion, so he rushed himself to figure out how to continue. 

“I guess I’m just trying to say that the thing we do on the camping night - where we slip out of our tents and meet- It’s something I...didn’t realize meant something to me until you didn’t show up last time and I guess I just wanted to know if we could...go back to doing that.” 

As you fixed your eyes on the floor, you licked your lips absently, having to use every bit of your brainpower to not show him what that question had done to you; you were feeling butterflies again. You’d really convinced yourself that you wouldn’t feel that way about him again, but it was always a lie and you knew it. The proof was in the way your heart was racing.

You’d been expecting him to walk it back as soon as he’d seen your hesitation, but, to his credit, he just waited patiently for your reply. 

You opened your mouth to tell him you weren’t sure, but what came out was a rather struggled admission of, “Sam, you’re fucking killing me.” It shocked you to have said it, but it shocked him enough that he sucked in a sharp breath and then let the stainless steel fridge door hold his weight as he concernedly but cautiously asked, “What do you mean?” 

As you stared at him, you could feel your eyebrows knitted together in a deep-set, distressed frown. “Do you really think I want nothing to do with you now? You think I went from wishing you were my honest-to-god boyfriend to suddenly actually despising you?” The tone of your voice came out desperate, but you didn’t have the capacity to care as his eyes widened. 

“Sam, it has taken everything I’ve got to keep you at a distance. Aside from the fact that we work together in close proximity every single day, I fucking miss you too.” In your despair, you’d said it all but the one thing that you’d been keeping for yourself, but you realized, at that exact moment, that you could never move forward until you told him, “I loved you, Sam. I- I still do, but I don’t think I can go through that again. I know it’s dramatic and it makes me sound crazy, which is why I decided to bury it all, but I’ve never experienced anything that hurt the way that did.”

He looked like he was barely breathing as he ran his hands through his hair, his breathing suddenly choppy and labored.  

“You’ve taught me a lot of hard lessons, Sam, and I am currently trying my very fucking best to learn them.” 

It fell silent between the two of you for just a second before he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Please don’t let that be what you take away from this.” He gestured between the two of you with his pointer finger.

The laugh you let out was tinged with just a shade of bitterness as you asked, “What do you want me to take from it?”

Even though it seemed like the logical next step in the conversation, the question took him off guard. He stared at you in silence for a few prolonged moments as his bottom lip hung open an inch or so. The moment he decided on an answer was visible, but even then, he had to take a quick breath before admitting, “Me.” 

Unsure as to what he was implying, you naturally took on a puzzled expression, forcing him to clarify, “I want you to take me with you. Even as ‘just a friend’.”

You pursed your lips together as you held his gaze - you were hoping to find some kind of deception behind his eyes so that you could reject him and still feel like you did the right thing, but the only thing you found was sincerity. Even though the shade of his eyes was altered by the harsh, fluorescent lighting, it was still Sam - the soft Sam that he’d accidentally let you get to know. 

It hurt. You suddenly felt so choked that you had to work on shoving back the lump in your throat. You shook your head at him, unsure to your very core about what your next step should be. 

“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t know if I can be ‘just your friend’,” you informed him sorrowfully. 

“Will you try?” he asked, the hope evident in both his eyes and his cadence. He was doing everything right - he wasn’t putting guilt or pressure on you. Nothing he was doing felt manipulative or as if there were an ulterior motive behind it. He was speaking with you in the most respectful manner possible and that realization put a sour look on your face. 

“Why couldn’t you have just done this in the first place?” you lamented, gesturing to him with an open palm. “Absolutely none of this would have had to happen if you’d just been this person with me. Why does it seem like this honesty is coming to you so easily now - after you’ve already done the damage?” 

He seemed to take the question to heart. He let his eyes slip shut and his head tip back as he took a deep, shaking breath, finally past the point of trying to control your perception of him. “I can’t take it back, babe,” he informed you apologetically but as soon as the term of endearment slipped from his mouth, he looked you over to make sure you didn’t react negatively. When he realized you were going to let it go unaddressed, he continued, “But you have to know I regret it, right?” 

“Of course, you do,” you agreed with a firm frown of grief, leaving all the rest unsaid. 

The room fell silent, save for the whirring sound of the refrigerator, leaving the two of you to feel the weight of the words you’d shared. After a while, he let out a sigh of surrender and anxiously scratched at the back of his neck. 

“Look, I’m going to be honest - I’m not sure what to do here. I don’t know where the line is between ‘communicating my regrets and trying to make amends’ and ‘being a fucking nuisance’ so...” He trailed off before starting again, his tone even more gentle this time. “I’ve laid it all out for you. You know I still want you - however you’ll take me. The rest is up to you.” 

He didn’t wait for a response before offering you a weak but honest smile and turning back to the task of collecting the condiments. For the next moment, he busied himself to show you he could respectfully move on from the moment, but you remained stagnant, just taking him in like this. 

Obviously unsure as to why you were just staring at him, unmoving, he snuck a look at you out of the corner of his eye and then curiously pivoted to face you again. 

You weren’t really sure what you were going to say when you opened your mouth, but it just naturally slipped out anyway. “I’ll think about it, Sam,” you stated, more confidently than you felt as you nodded tightly. 

You could see the way your assurance changed his posture - defeated and droopy to pulling in a hopeful breath until his lungs were full. Just because you felt like he’d truly earned it, you quietly told him, “And thank you. For trying.” 

As much as he was trying to downplay it, a wistful smile found his lips, effectively melting the ice you’d built around him in your mind just a little more. He gave you a nod and this time, when you both went back to packing, it didn’t feel quite so heavy. 

The trip out to the campsite felt easier this time around. It wasn’t as fun or exciting as it would have been if you were on the same terms with him as you’d been at any point before the fight, but it also didn’t feel like a grim death march like the last time either so you counted it as a win. 

He wasn’t as timid with you anymore either, which, to your deep surprise, was a relief. You’d thought it would be upsetting to look at him and not see him looking like a guilty puppy, but it wasn’t at all. That’s why, as you tucked into your sleeping bag for the night, you didn’t zip it - “just in case”, you’d told yourself. 

It felt a little like deja vu as you lay awake, waiting with bated breath as you strained your ears. The night was calm and quiet, but you were irrationally afraid you were going to miss it - you weren’t sure you even wanted to meet with him that night, but you didn’t want to be robbed of the decision either. 

You hadn’t realized you’d started to doze until you were swiftly pulled from your sleep by the familiar rustling, and the second you heard the sound of his footfall on the dirt, you started to shrug out of your sleeping bag.

Sam was sitting on the same log you always found him on, but he clearly was not expecting you - when he heard you slip through the tent flap, his head whipped around to show you his surprised face outlined by the moonlight. You kept a relatively flat expression as you sat next to him, leaving a few inches in between the two of you; then you just folded your hands in your lap and fixed your eyes on them. 

You could feel him studying your face, charmingly trying to figure out if it was safe to let himself feel hopeful, but the relief was audible, even through a whisper as he admitted, “I can’t believe you came.” 

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and cautiously allowed your lips to turn up into a little smile. “No? Do you think I shouldn’t have?” 

He immediately opened his mouth to reply but then stopped himself abruptly. After taking a second to chew it over, he let out the most sheepish laugh you’d ever heard from him, breathy and nervous. “I don’t think that’s for me to answer. Do I think I deserve whatever you’re giving me right now?” he asked rhetorically, and then instantly answered himself, “Probably not. But I’m...indescribably happy to see you.”  

There was something you had to get off your chest, but it was a struggle to get yourself to say it. You bit your lip and dug deep inside of yourself to admit, “I’m self-conscious that I’ve overreacting.” 

Once he realized what you were suggesting, he shook his head so quickly and fervently that you could only deduce that he was afraid to even let that idea hang in the air. Sam took a big, risky chance; without hesitation, he planted his hand on your jaw to turn your face to him, forcing you to look directly into his eyes and there was absolutely no way for you to voice what that did to you.

The wind picked up just then, graciously muffling the sounds of your voices and eliminating the risk of the kids hearing you over the rustling of debris and leaves. 

“Don’t,” he half-pleaded, innocently leaning in a little closer to you so you wouldn’t miss what he was saying. “Don’t do that. I hurt you. I knew how much this job meant to you- means to you and I still risked leaving the grounds without telling you what we were risking, and that’s bad enough.” He paused, grimacing as he considered the right words. “But, then, you put out the fucking fire for me. I can just hear you talking to the director in that way that you do - diplomatic and informed, reasoning with him to spare whatever punishment I undeniably deserve.” There was a hint of a dreamy tone under the desperation and haste to get it all out and the sound of it suddenly had you struggling to choke back tears.

“Just- Please, don’t blame yourself for this to justify wanting to forgive me. I hurt you. I’d love for us to be okay but that’s not the way to do it.”

You held his stare for too long, waiting for your tongue to speak without you having to come up with the right words. When that didn’t happen, all you could do was rasp out, “Okay.” 

His eyes darted back and forth between yours like he was searching for a thread - anything to give him clarity as to what that meant for the two of you, but even you didn’t know. You let him struggle for only a couple of seconds before cracking a smile that instantly softened him further.

“Okay?” he tried, hopeful despite himself. 

You nodded at him, slowly reaching to brush a strip of hair from where it had fallen from the lazy bun he’d tied it into. To your surprise, it didn’t hurt as much as you’d thought it would when you whispered, “I forgive you.” 

He froze as you watched him visibly wrestle with the choice before deciding to use his hand under your jaw to guide you to him. You held your breath, your heart racing as you realized he was probably about to kiss you, but he didn’t. He spared you the burden of having to make a split-second decision about whether or not it was appropriate for him to rush you into something so romantically intimate, and instead, he met you in the middle to lay his forehead against yours. 

You could feel him preparing to say something meaningful, but the moment slipped past in silence. The two of you stayed like that for a few prolonged moments until he pulled away. 

This time, looking at his face was different. It was almost as if speaking the intention to forgive him had magically pulled it into existence. Out of everything that had happened between you since your conversation in the kitchen, none of it made sense to your logical brain, but that was just another perfect bullet point for the lesson you were learning about how lawless emotions are by nature. 

“So, there’s this building on the edge of my hometown,” he started, piquing your interest with his casual tone. “And you know how every town has that one decrepit place that’s famously forbidden and you’ve heard twenty different stories about it? It’s always like ‘a guy went crazy and murdered his family in that house’ or ‘a kid got lost in this old mine and they never found him’.”

You hummed an agreement, giving him a confused look that caused him to chuckle, pursing his lips to muffle it lest the two of you get too loud. 

“So, in my hometown, that obligatory location is this shack-like building out in the woods. There’s so much bullshit lore that locals have tied to this place but the one thing we know is that it was a tiny church a long time ago. It hasn’t been maintained for decades - like, the wood siding is covered in moss and shit or has just degraded completely in some places. The windows are boarded over and it smells like mold inside and there’s broken glass and loose nails all over.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh at the absurdity of the situation, and he matched it, obviously finding amusement in stringing you along blindly. 

“Well, that lovely place I’m describing is apparently the perfect venue for parties, but the land it’s on is owned by the city now and the city is pretty serious about keeping people away from it because it’s obviously not a structurally safe place for anyone to be, let alone a bunch of drunken young people, but there’s no real way for the city to prevent people from partying there because any amount of money spent on security would be a waste. So, I’m sure you’re wondering why they haven’t just torn the shit hole down, right?” he prompted. 

Either Sam was just a great storyteller or the story itself was out of place enough to catch and hold your interest, but either way, you were invested. You took the moment to tease him by playing along and cheekily asking, “Sam, why haven’t they just torn the shit hole down?” 

You weren’t expecting it, but as he smirked at your antics, he took your chin between his fingers to hold you still as he answered. “Because, next to the church, there’s a little bitty cemetery. There are two slabs left that are obviously headstones - completely unreadable - but who knows how many people are actually buried there. In order for the city to be able to clear the lot, they’d have to find records of the bodies and remove them very carefully and then there’s the issue of how the fuck they’d even locate and get in touch with the families of these people- Anyway, the city just tacks up ‘No Trespassing’ signs all over the property and nails the door shut every now and again to discourage people from snooping, but other than that, they just leave the place alone and hope that the church will decay enough that it collapses of natural causes.” 

He let go of your chin somewhere in the middle of that last part of the explanation, but you could still feel the effects of being handled by him like that, making it difficult to function in the way you wanted to. You struggled to find the impressed tone that you were looking for, instead stumbling over the statement, “Wow. You know a lot about this building.”

His pink little smirk stretched into a satisfied smile as he nodded. Using an intentionally pointed tone, he sounded beyond pleased to inform you, “Well, I ought to, because I burned the place to the ground last year.” 

Before you’d even decided if you’d heard him right, your fingers anxiously found your lips as your eyes widened. “Oh my god,” was all you could think to say. 

He nodded, and there was a distinct lack of regret behind it. 

“Why?!” 

“I want to say it was all just bad luck, but that’d be a lie and, per Josh’s suggestion, I’m trying this new thing where I take responsibility for the shitty things I do,” he teased, making you breathe a laugh despite your shock. “So, a friend of a friend was having a going away party because he was joining the military. Or...maybe it was that he just got back from deployment? I can’t remember because I didn’t want to go, but I do remember thinking that it was a really bad idea from the start. Everything was really dry last summer - like we were nearing ‘drought’ territory during this period, and here these assholes were, lighting a fucking bonfire in the middle of this crispy-ass grass, surrounded by a dry forest. It was a tinderbox. Smokey the fucking bear couldn’t have come up with a better scenario for a fire-related mishap. And, I know you’re clever enough to figure out what happens next.”

You shook your head, giving him an expectant look. “I mean, obviously a fire breaks out, but was everyone okay?” 

“Yeah, mostly everyone bailed. It’s the rural Midwest, so I’m sure a lot of people had hard drugs on them or in them that they didn’t want to get caught with.”

You were stunned silent for a few moments. “You were worried that I was going to find your arrest boring?”

He nodded coyly, a bit too matter-of-fact for that to be the end of it. 

“Getting arrested for burning down a church is maybe the most interesting thing I can think of,” you argued, struggling to keep your voice low in your state of disbelief. 

“Well, that’s because I didn’t get arrested for burning down a church,” he informed you, making your expression fall flat quickly and dramatically enough to pull a laugh that threatened on “full volume” from his lips. 

“What the fuck do you mean?” 

With a faux-innocent smile as your own consolation, he stated, “I got arrested a month later for driving high.” 

You narrowed your eyes to stare at him accusingly. “Then what the fuck was the point of that whole long-ass story?” 

“Because I told myself if you met me out here tonight, I’d tell you what I got arrested for, but getting arrested for driving high is boring, so I thought I’d lead with the most interesting story I could think of - which is 100% true, by the way.”

Yet again, you wanted to be angry with yourself for finding the whole thing charming, but before you could say a word, he added, “Plus, I’ve missed being this physically close to you and I’m, admittedly, kind of selfish so I wanted to draw this moment out as long as possible.” 

Still in a state of disbelief, you sat up straight, fighting to keep a shocked smile from your lips and failing miserably. You shook your head at him disapprovingly but there wasn’t a single shred of hard feelings to grab at anymore, making his next line unnecessary. 

“Remember how you used to fish so hard for information about me? Well, you got some,” he stated, smirking. “And there’s plenty more to fish for if you’d still like to keep me around- As a friend.”

He’d added the last bit as an assurance, making sure you knew he wasn’t expecting anything from you, but you were digging your fingers into the meat of your leg to keep from touching him. 

Your throat was tight, giving your voice a rasp as you told him, “I don’t wanna be your friend.” 

His expression had just started slipping into a showcase of his disappointment when he realized what you were actually implying. You could feel him staring at you and how your eyes were fixed on his lips, making him sound a little desperate as he asked, “Can I kiss you?” 

You glanced over your shoulder towards the tents, but you wanted it just as badly as him, so you didn’t have to think about it too hard when he framed your face with his hands and half-pleaded, “One kiss isn’t going to hurt anything- Please.” 

You nodded at him fervently but you didn’t wait for him to make a move; instead, you just leaned in and pressed your lips to his. It was a little rough, but you weren’t complaining because the rush of serotonin through your veins felt like a wave of warm water. You chased the feeling by wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and found that, somehow, that felt even better. 

He didn’t show any signs of objection as you broke the kiss to hook your chin over his shoulder, feeling his nose nuzzle into the hair by your ear. You sat and soaked in the moment for a few long seconds before sitting up so you could look into his eyes.

You had to work to school your face into a serious, stern expression as you informed him, “If you ever hurt me like that again, I’m going to fuck your brother.” 

Just like you were hoping for, a deeply shocked smile found his lips, but before he could make any kind of quip, you added some comedic relief by clarifying, “Not Josh - the other one. Josh 2.” 

A hand flew up to catch a sharp laugh as it fell out of his mouth. “Jake, but okay. I guess that’s fair,” he informed you in the fondest tone. 

“Damn right,” you agreed and then stood, holding your hand out to pull him up too. “Well, Samuel, this was a shockingly pleasant way to kill half an hour or so, but we should get to bed.” 

He offered you only a smile in allowance, but you pulled him into another hug when you reached the tents that he returned in a way that you could only describe as grateful, but you’d only hugged him so you could press your lips to his ear. “Find me again when the kids are gone this weekend,” you instructed and felt his fingers flex against your back in a very uncontrolled way. 

You placed a kiss against his cheek that you could only assume he found frustratingly chaste and then slipped into your tent. 

❀❀❀

You arrived to dinner before Josh the next evening, giving you plenty of time to think. As your eyes scanned over the bustling dining hall and saw how many of the campers had formed their own groups, leaving their counselors to eat with their coworkers, you couldn’t help but feel the sting of the realization that it was almost over. In just a couple of weeks, you’d have to start looking for a different job - one that could never, ever compare. 

You tried to push the feeling down, lest your eyes start to water in such a public place. 

Luckily, you weren’t alone for too much longer; just a moment later, Josh opened the doors for his kids and ushered them all in with a sweet smile, pointing them towards the food line despite them having gotten the routine down a week and a half ago. His boys scattered to sit in their own little clusters but Josh could always be counted on to take the seat across from you. 

“So, how was the camping trip?” he asked, and something behind his chipper tone told you he was somehow more informed than he ought to be. 

You offered him a fond smile and shook your head. “It sounds like you already know how it went,” you replied before popping a slice of an orange into your mouth.

“I have a hunch,” he allowed cheekily. 

“How? How do you seem to know everything before I do?” 

He shrugged, though he looked proud despite his casual response. “A couple of reasons. One - neither of you are as difficult to read as you think you are. And, two - Sam asked for my advice on the subject.” 

“Oh?” you pressed, eliciting a nod of his head. 

“Well, I guess I kind of forced my advice on him, actually,” A grin spread across his lips and he split his dinner roll to butter it. “If I didn’t practically kick his butt after your fight, I’m not sure he would have made any moves to fix it. Not that he didn’t want to,” he quickly added. “I just know that, when he fucks up socially, he tends to remove himself from the equation so he can’t make it worse.”

“Or, perhaps because he’s too ashamed to confront it,” you suggested, trying to sound flat but accidentally letting a scolding fondness taint the words. 

“Sure,” Josh agreed, endearingly struggling to get the little packet of butter open. “I have no doubt that was part of it. All I’m saying is, I know he wanted to make it better - he just didn’t know how, so I gave him a...let’s say ‘gentle nudge’.”

You breathed a laugh. “Well, thank you. And, yes, things feel better,” you agreed, after a moment, adding, “I missed him a lot.” 

A smile, maybe too pleased for someone mostly unaffected by the situation, spread across his lips. 

When Sam walked in just a minute later, all his kids in tow, he met your eyes for only a second before helping his boys through the line, leaving you in your infatuation over what a good counselor he’d become over the last few weeks. He sat across from you, next to Josh, and you were relieved to find that it instantly felt comfortable, thanks to Josh’s flawless sense for directing conversation. 

The special activity for that cycle ended up being a hike out to a special location on the campgrounds that you’d always loved as a child, called Blueberry Bog. It was a glacially-formed kettle bog; the water was covered in soft, vibrant green moss that acted almost like a trampoline. The kids were pretty underwhelmed until they were informed that they didn’t have to stay on the wooden boardwalk - that they could go out onto the moss and explore. You watched with the kind of satisfaction you’d imagine a parent would have, listening to the kids squeal as their feet squished into the plush surface.

The following day was supposed to bring rain, and it didn’t disappoint in that regard. When you’d woken up to your alarm, you could hear the sound of thunder in the distance, and when you’d gotten out to the main room of your cabin, a few of the girls were already at the windows, watching the lightning streak across the sky. You’d all raced down to the dining hall with your coats over your heads to keep as dry as you could, and after breakfast, that was where their parents came to pick them up. The “goodbyes” were getting harder and harder, and this time you had to take deep breaths in between children to prevent yourself from crying. 

All of Sam’s campers were gone before the final stragglers of your group had been picked up, so you met his eyes across the room to share a look that he’d accurately interpreted as an invitation. 

He showed up at your cabin just a few minutes after you’d gotten back with a softness behind his eyes as you opened the door for him. 

You leaned against the doorframe, blocking his way in so you could playfully inquire, “Would you like to come inside?”

He nodded, breathing a curious laugh. 

You hummed in consideration, smirking along with him as he realized that you were intentionally keeping him out in the rain. “Ask nicely.”

He appeared to chew it over before smugly declaring, “No.” Sam placed his hand in the center of your chest and guided you out of the way with ease, despite your efforts to anchor yourself in place with shocked giggles spilling from your mouth. 

“You’d think you’d be doing whatever you possibly could to win me over again,” you scoffed teasingly, crossing your arms over your chest as a statement. 

He shut the door behind him and wrapped his hands around your biceps so he could move you, yet again. When he had your back against the door, he was wearing a fond expression to note, “I suspect I already have.”

You’d been intending to take the joke further - to play along for as long as he’d allow - but you couldn’t seem to find the drive after that. The ache in your chest reminded you just how much you missed interacting with him like this again. As awful as the admission was, you were suddenly aware of just how different your summer would have been without him - borderline boring, if you had to guess.  

You cupped his jaw in your hands, your voice cracking a little as you admitted, “You never really lost me.”

As easy as it would have been for him to kiss you then - to lead you into a sexual tryst - instead, he leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours like he had at the campsite. 

You let the softness of the moment settle over you as you matched his breathing. The silence remained until you broke it, in the most cautious way you could manage. 

“Sam, what’s going to happen when the summer’s over?” 

He withdrew just enough that he could see your face as a pensive expression masked his features. 

“I’m not sure.” 

Your stomach sank just a little. You tried again, “In the kitchen, you said that you wanted me to take you with me.”

While he pressed the pad of his thumb to your bottom lip, his eyebrows furrowed into a troubled look. “I want to keep seeing you - of course. I just haven’t worked out the details yet.” 

As unsatisfying as that answer was, you knew it was as much as he could offer you at that moment, so you let him know there were no hard feelings by pecking a kiss on his thumb. 

“Well, no need to try and sort it all out right now.” You looked him up and down, putting on a little smirk as you suggested, “I think we have some catching up to do, Sam.” 

The breath he let out held a surprising amount of relief - like he’d been waiting for your cue. Without wasting a second, he gripped your waist, spinning you around and pointing you towards your bedroom door with a nod of his chin. You huffed a laugh, reaching to thread your fingers through his so you could lead him, but he pulled his hand away before you could. 

He only let you feel the sting of rejection for a split second before he was wrapping his arms around your chest from behind, playfully lifting you, mid-step. The surprise of it drew a pitchy squeal from your grinning lips, but he never pulled you fully off your feet. The gesture was simply meant to be a teasing prompt to rush you along, though you had a suspicion that he was only half-joking. 

You’d thought he’d want you on the bed immediately, but you’d barely made it into your room before you felt him anchor you in place. The heat from his mouth as he pressed his lips into the crook of your neck made you physically melt, relying on him to help hold your weight as you leaned back against him. 

You reached over your shoulder to wind your fingers in his hair, deciding then that he must have washed it earlier that morning, as you were able to rake through the silky strands with ease. He let out a soft, absent hum that vibrated against your neck as you gently scratched your nails over his scalp.

The edges of his teeth dragging over your delicate, thin skin made you shiver as goosebumps rose down your arms. His fingers were slipping around your body, dipping under the hem of your shirt to tease along your navel, which only worsened your sensitivity. 

You didn’t want to pull away from him, but you wanted to see his face. You used to see his angular features as intimidating, but you’d gotten lucky - lucky enough to have seen the truly soft side of him. Looking into his eyes used to leave you feeling utterly insignificant, but you could feel your chest swell hopelessly at the depth behind them now; even in the dim, cool light of the grey sky filtering in through your bedroom window, there was a warmth. The moment his lips touched yours, you felt the spark in your chest as if you were experiencing it for the first time, all over again.

Facing him now, you pressed your body flush to his, planting your hands on his chest as your fingers grasped at his shirt. You realized that being able to feel his body heat - his skin on yours - felt right. Like a muscle memory. 

He directed you to sit on the edge of the bed and then bent at the waist to kiss you. You were distracted enough by his tongue swiping out across your bottom lip that you didn’t realize he was sinking to his knees until you felt his hand on your stomach, gently pushing you back. 

You were going to give him a questioning look until you felt his fingers unsnapping the button on your pants. It was setting in, what was about to happen, and you had to take a few deep, controlled breaths to try to still your pounding heart as he slid your panties down.

His fingers almost felt cool when he stroked them over your skin, using a gentle, mindful touch. He gave you plenty of time to get comfortable, directing your focus on where his lips connected with your thigh. You could feel the pleasant burn when he sucked the muscle into his mouth, no doubt intending to leave you with a fuschia-pink bloom to remember this moment by. 

After seemingly avoiding the area up until then, it was the pointed tip of his nose brushing against your clit that made you gasp. Your fingers twisted into the duvet as his considered dipping into you, just barely sliding in to the first knuckle as a tease before withdrawing. 

Sam’s tongue was hot as he ran the flat of it over your skin, slow and languid like a dance. He opted to not use much pressure at first, but instead, letting it build with each lap over your clit. 

Your teeth were sunken into your bottom lip, mindlessly rolling it between your bite until it was tender. A dreamy hum or two escaped you as you pictured the scene behind your eyelids, but when you decided that wasn’t enough, you sat up, propping yourself on your elbows to take it all in. 

He looked lovely with his face buried between your thighs and when he saw you watching him, he met your eyes, planting his hands on the small of your waist to keep you in place. 

Despite the obscenity of the situation, he looked so soft and sweet that you didn’t think twice before reaching to tuck a strip of his hair behind his ear. To your surprise, he careened into the touch absently, pulling his mouth from your pussy so he could press a chaste kiss to the meat of your thumb. 

Before you could retract it, the fingers of his left hand wrapped around your wrist as he sucked your thumb into his mouth, and the fingers of his right hand finally slipped into you to the hilt. A tide of warmth spread through your abdomen as he worked the digits into you to the hilt, but you had to suck in a sharp gasp when his tongue flicked over your clit again. It felt like an electric shock that had your eyes squeezing shut, so you couldn’t protest when he coaxed you into laying back again. 

You wound your grip into his hair, trying to remain mindful of being too rough, but you couldn’t quite reach the thought. You knew you were tugging too harshly on the strands as he seemed to decide to draw you to the edge, but you couldn’t care, because you were peering over it in a matter of minutes. 

You were entirely lost in the sensation; it was all-consuming as it dragged you down into it. The resulting orgasm had you panting as you rode it out, barely conscious of your hips moving to grind yourself against Sam’s tongue. 

At the end of it, all of your muscles untensed at once, allowing you to let go of Sam’s hair as you sunk back into the mattress from your rigid position. 

A content hum slipped from Sam’s lips as he pressed a kiss to the spot on your thigh he’d been bothering earlier, and you could tell by the warmth of the sound that he was smiling proudly. 

He didn’t let you say anything as he guided you further up the bed, which was good, because you weren’t sure you could form an intelligent sentence - at least, not for a couple of minutes. 

He stripped down, not spending a lot of time on the show of it until he realized you were watching him. Once he had your eyes, he stroked over himself a couple of times for you. 

As he settled over you, he helped you sit up enough that he could slip your shirt off, leaving you both entirely unclothed. A warmth spread over your face when you realized you could taste yourself on his tongue, but he effectively erased the thought from your mind by parting your legs and slipped himself in between them. 

Your lips were connected in a kiss, but that didn’t stop you from moaning into each other’s mouths as he slid in. He had clearly been intending to take it slow and let you adjust, but he couldn’t seem to help himself from instantly falling into a rhythm with his little rocking motion. Luckily, you were more than ready. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down onto you, feeling almost cozy under the weight of him. The heat of his body perfectly mirrored the warm feeling you were left with as he slid in and out of you. You tried to bury your sounds into the crook of his neck, but you knew he could hear them perfectly, even over the sound of the relentless rain and the occasional rolling thunder outside.

Over your head, his arm reached to anchor himself on the edge of your headboard, giving him more leverage to work his hips against yours without having to pull away from you much. Without your conscious permission, your teeth nipped into the skin of his bicep, spurring him into a rougher motion that you instantly fell in love with. 

The sound of his breathing, quick and labored, made your eyes roll back into their sockets. You could tell he was getting closer to his end as his movements became less controlled, and even as present as you were in the moment, you took the opportunity to recognize how lucky you were to get him like this - so unguarded and raw. 

His eyes were squeezed shut, letting out an almost pained little whimper as he came and you could feel the shudder through his whole body. You cupped his face, thumbing over his cheekbone and enjoying the blissfully peaceful moment as he grounded himself again. Once he was conscious enough, he rested his forehead against yours, sweetly nuzzling his nose against yours. 

“I missed you,” he whispered under his breath. There was a vulnerability to the admission - just by the tone of it, you knew it was one of the most honest things he’d said to you thus far. 

“I’m right here,” you stated in return. 

❀❀❀

The next two weeks were unspeakably pleasant. 

You realized that, for the first time since the beginning of the summer, interacting with Sam was truly easy. As much as you’d love to say it felt like there had never been any bad blood between you and him in the first place, that wasn’t quite true; you could feel the scar tissue of a wound fully healed, but that made it even more satisfying, knowing that you’d worked through it together.

On the last day of the last cycle, you were proud to admit that you made it through the process of parting with your campers, completely tear-free, even though you caught Josh getting a little watery-eyed with every crouched hug he gave. 

After the campers were gone for the year, the counselors got to stay on the grounds for the remaining two days of the weekend, with the promise of a celebration that Saturday evening. Not everyone stayed - there were some counselors that saw more value in getting home, and you couldn’t blame them, but you were desperate to milk this experience for all it was worth. After all, even though you’d have to be dead before you’d miss doing this again the following year, you’d never be a first time counselor again. 

You and all the other counselors were informed that there would be fireworks after sundown, and you were free to go wherever you’d like on the grounds to watch, but Josh was quick to inform you that he already had the perfect spot. 

He led you and Sam on quite the hike that afternoon, and even though there was a vague trail to follow, it was clear people didn’t take it very often. 

As a branch of thorns grabbed onto your bare leg, you let out a hissing curse and then annoyedly asked, “Josh, where the fuck are we even going? There’s absolutely no way this spot is worth it right? I’m sure we could have seen perfectly fine from the beach.” 

He snickered, glancing back over his shoulder to remind you, “I told you to prepare for a little hike.”

“This is not a ‘little hike’, you jackass,” Sam muttered, cautiously side-stepping a sharp-looking branch. 

“You’re bitching now, but I promise it’ll be worth it,” Josh quipped back, completely unbothered, if the grin he was wearing was anything to judge by. 

“Oh, yeah? Then why did Ashley opt out of this trip?” you challenged. 

“Ah, because in the midst of the drama between you two,” Josh started, pausing to gesture to you and Sam. “You missed her whole story arc. I think she’s kinda been seeing a guy from Birch.”

You tried not to sound too disbelieving as you asked, “Really? Because I honestly thought you’d end up hooking up with her?” 

Josh snorted, flashing his white teeth. “Absolutely not. Unlike the rest of you, I know how to keep things professional.”

Either not buying his story or not willing to let the dig slide, Sam snarkily retorted, “Don’t worry, Josh - I’m sure you’ll get one next year.” 

The sun was mid-way through setting when you finally reached your destination. You’d been able to tell you were hiking at an incline on the way up, but you weren’t expecting for the woods to open up and show you a view of the grounds from one of the surrounding bluffs. 

The entire perimeter of the lake was visible to you, completely unobscured. Seeing your favorite place on earth spread out for you on a platter like that almost choked you up until you felt Sam’s hand on your lower back, giving you a knowing smile when you met his eyes. 

“Okay, Josh. I’m not too proud to admit when I’m wrong. This is a primo spot,” you surrendered, prompting him to beam at you proudly as he pulled a folded blanket from his backpack to spread out over the grass. 

“Thank you, thank you.” 

“Yeah, except I think you’re both forgetting that we’ll have to navigate our way back down in the dark,” Sam informed you smugly, but Josh just waved him off. 

“Let’s worry about that when we get to it.” 

The three of you got comfy on the blanket, settling into each other in a little bundle as you prepared for the show. 

“So, when are you coming to visit?” Josh asked you, and your confused little smile caused him to elaborate. “I mean, I just assumed you’d be coming to stay with us for a while, right?” 

You and Sam shared a blank look before you admitted, “I honestly hadn’t thought about it.” 

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be able to go off to school for the fall semester,” Sam half-agreed, sounding like he was weighing the idea in his head. 

“I’m sure you’ll get there next year,” Josh assured without concern. He finished with a sly grin, “Y’know, assuming you can change your hardcore criminal ways and not land yourself in jail.” He met your eyes and teasingly informed you, “Did you know that Sam was arrested for trafficking exotic animals? When the FBI caught him, he was trying to smuggle a pangolin across the border.”

“Oh, wow, dreamy,” you quipped, playing along as Sam lovingly rolled his eyes. 

“I already told her all about it.” 

Josh hummed, looking pleased with the development. “I figured, but I had to try.”

After a comfortable pause, he put on a playful grin and asked, “So, Sam. Think you’ll come back next year?” 

Sam looked like he wanted to say no, if not just for the principal. You could only imagine that they’d had this conversation a few times before, and Sam had given him a firm declination, but there was a hint of a smile to Sam’s tilted lips now as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes. 

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tilting you towards him until you laid your head on his shoulder. 

“We’ll see,” he replied, pulling a contented hum from his brother’s upturned mouth.

There was a certain kind of peace you’d come to know when you were a camper at Forest Springs - the kind of happiness you can only get from the bliss of a responsibility-free childhood. Those two weeks in the summer always simultaneously felt like they went on for months and flew by in a single breath. You couldn’t put a price on the freedom to do whatever your little heart desired and the comfort of knowing you were safe and sound under the care of an adult. To say you missed that feeling would be a criminally-steep understatement. You ached for it. 

Somewhere, deep, deep inside, you had come back to Camp Forest Springs this summer in hopes of feeling it again, but you were wise enough to know that no matter how badly you wanted it back, that time in your life had passed, and that was truly okay. 

Instead, you’d get to pack up and end your first year as a counselor with three different prizes - a love, a new best friend, and the knowledge that you’d been able to gift that same feeling to your campers. 

That was more than enough.

_____________ I just wanted to say a whole-hearted thank you to everyone that stuck with me through this story. It was a big challenge to write believable pacing and dialog, but I’m proud of us for sticking it out to the end! 

As always, your comments, tweets, replies, and asks mean the world, but if you feel like you’d like to show your appreciation in an even more meaningful way, you could always buy me a coffee <3 

Thanks again, Alana 

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