#When she's done figuring out how to take a picture

[lesbo-tuliplvrr]

slumber party

bestfriend!abby x bestfriend!reader

summary: your best friend abby calls you up for a sleepover after having not spent time together in months.

clingy!abby, friends to lovers, college!abby, college!reader, fem!reader, y/n used once, medicalstudent!abby, fluff, minor angst but mostly it's one sided, no specific descriptions of reader other than them being shorter than abby and having their hair uncovered at night

wc: 3.2k

Abigail anderson. Your best friend since primary school. Your longest friendship. Your longest crush.

You hadn't always had a crush on Abby. Sure you loved her, but only really as a friend. That was, until junior year of highschool when her body had started noticeably changing. She started working out more, her biceps bulging through every tshirt. She had a growth spurt too, now almost towering over you. You yourself weren't that short but her stature made for a quite prominent difference.

You weren't usually shallow, But c'mon. Abby was already one of the best persons in your life; smart, caring, trustworthy. Turns out you only needed that little extra push to transform your platonic admiration for her into something else. This had been going on for 5 years and you had zero intention of ever letting her know.

It would just be way too risky, confessing something like that. What if she wanted to cut you off? What if she was disgusted by your feelings? What if being friends for so long bit you in the ass and she saw you more like a sister?!

And plus, dropping something like that on her when she was already swept up by her studies to become a doctor most of the time, would be horrible. You figured, you just had to let the feelings die. Of course it was taking much longer than expected, going onto the 6th year of having said crush, but it just had to be done.

So when Abby told you her dad would be out of town and that you should sleep over, you found yourself at a crossroads. You could go, and spend time with your best friend and it be a great night. Or you could go and be so incredibly uncomfortable hiding your feelings.

"Come on, we haven't had a slumber party in ages. I feel like we're always so busy we barely have any time for each other anymore. which is crazy for us!" Abby suggested as she spoke to you over the phone.

Yeah, totally not because I've been purposefully distancing myself to get rid of this festering crush.

You responded, "I mean , don't you have studying to do? I'll just distract you."

"Dont worry about me. Plus, you wouldn't distract me, you never do." She replied with her honey-like voice that would never cease to make you melt.

"We both know that's a lie but sure." You gave in. It was your best friend. Plus you really hadn't had time together in the past few months.

It was just a sleepover with Abby. All you had to do was act normal and it'd be fine. It's just Abby.

Abby answered the door when you arrived, immediately pulling you in a for a hug, stating how much she missed you and how long its been since you properly hung out, just the two of you.

"This place hasn't changed at all." you say, looking around at the familiar picture frames of her and her dad still plastered in their same spots on the walls.

"Yeah, we're both pretty busy all the time so," she trailed off. "You want anything to drink?" she asked, grabbing your overnight bag from you and heading to place it in her room.

"Nah, but I'll help myself, it's fine." you respond, following her into her room.

Her room has seen a few minor changes, none of which younwerent aware of though. It might have been years since you actually set foot into her bedroom, but you still saw it regularly. During your as frequent as possible facetime calls, you got to see through her camera the little changes she'd make to her walls. Even got to help in the decision process sometimes.

"It's been a while since you've been in here huh?" she asked, sitting on the edge of her bed, eyeing you as you peered at all her stuff.

"Yeah, cant believe how long it's been." you replied, distracted by the sheer amount of personality visible on her walls and desk.

Her college textbooks neatly tucked away on the side of her desk in a stack, near her pencil holder that held various shades of highlighters and pens. There were multiple pictures on the wall directly above her desk, along with many post it's of medical terms. Most of them were of her and her dad, or of her dog froma. few years ago, Alice. But right in the middle there were two of you and her. One from when you were much younger, closer to the time you first became friends and the other from your highschool graduation.

You made a mental note to take more pictures with her once you overcame your crush.

You looked around for a moment more, realising there was no mattress or anything on the ground. Sure, you slept on the same bed together before but that was when you were kids. Years ago.

"Soooo should I sleep on the couch or the ground?" you asked jokingly, secretly hoping she'd actually have an answer.

She laughed, "Oh come on, it might've been some time but we're not strangers." she joked with her beautiful smile.

Fuck.

You chuckled at this, hoping it seemed genuine and didn't expose the fear you felt of being so close to her for so long. Abby, however, noticed your shift in energy. Choosing not to say anything, she promptly changed the subject.

"Alright, what's for dinner?" she got up from the bed and led you both back out to the living room. Grabbing the TV remote, she put on one of her rnb playlists. "I was thinking we could cook something, chat and catch up for a bit then maybe watch a movie or something."

Gosh, she'd really thought this through. "Abby I hope that you don't have outstanding assignments due while you're doing all of this," you scolded her, already getting back into the groove of things.

She sighed, "Uugggghhh no, mom. I'll have you know that I am actually very ahead of my assignments. And even if I were behind, I'd still wanna be hanging with you tonight."

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she came around your frame to hug you from behind. You forgot how physically affectionate she was, and how much you missed it. You tried to not lean into it too much. The last thing you needed right now was to give yourself any false hope.

"I just- I really need this right now," she said with a sigh that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, dropping her head on your shoulder. You were so caught up in your own thoughts and feelings that you hadn't even stopped to think about how stressful school and everything must be for her. You turned your head slightly towards her, faces mere inches away from each other.

"I really need this right now and you're so fucking tense that I can't even give you a proper hug!" she stated, attacking you with tickles.

You screamed in laughter as she jammed her fingers into your sides, not giving up her mission to make you laugh. You tried running away but her grip on you was too strong, as expected of abby. Your attempts, however, did lead you to toppling over the couch, with her on top of you. She continued tickling you as you laughed, both smiling wide.

Through squeals and breaths you tried to reason it her, "Okay! Okay stop."

"There she is," she smiled, finally halting the tickles. You looked up at her, trying so very hard not to grab her by the collar and kiss her stupid.

She sat up, straddling your hips as you still lay on the couch, breathing heavily. You raised your head slightly, looking her directly in the eyes.

Gathering her breath, she started, "Okay. Now tell me, what's going on with you?" she asked, pushing her flyaways behind her ears.

Confused you asked, "Me?"

"Mhmm, you've been all distant and weird around me for quite some time." she supplied, hands resting on her thighs. her big, muscular thighs. snap out of it!

Shit, she noticed. "I-" you didn't know how to respond.

Worry evident on her face she continued, "Did I do something? Because if I did you gotta let me know, i- I've been so focused on school and-"

"No! no, n- it's not anything you've done. don't worry" you answered, "I guess I've just been feeling a bit...." you pulled something out your ass quickly, "lonely, lately."

Not entirely wrong. It was gonna have to work.

"I'm sorry." she replied, empathy clear on her face as she leaned forward to hold your arms. "But hey, I guess this came at the perfect time then huh? You won't be lonely tonight, I'll make sure of it. 'kay? Now let's go make something and you have to tell me everything that's been going on with you." she pat your thighs before coming off. Her weight would be a missed presence on your lap.

The music played at a comfortable volume as you two easily maneuver around the kitchen, cooking up a simple pasta dish. You talked about anything and everything, fully catching each other up on what the other had missed in their lives. In all your attempts at dodging her and keeping your distance, you'd forgotten why you two were best friends in the first place.

Abby was easy to talk to. She always knew how to cheer you up and how to comfort you. As did you to her. When you would hang out, there was always fun to ensue. Which is exactly why you fell in love with her. But as you were here, having chopped and prepared all the other ingredients and awaiting the water to boil, dancing and laughing around the kitchen hand in hand with Abby, you decided that just for tonight you could forget the complications that having a crush on Abby would cause and just lean into your best friend whom you missed so much.

When the meal was done, you both retreated to the couch where you sat closely next to each other in search of a movie to watch.

"I feel like nothing looks good," Abby stated, as she kept scrolling through the site.

"We could always hate watch something?" you suggested cheekliy, knowing that Abby was already not a big movie person and that it would be an utter waste of time for her to watch one that wasn't good.

"Ha ha very funny." she deadpanned, "What's that one you always wanted to watch when we were younger? Let's just watch that."

"Are you sure? Because you'll have to put up with me quoting almost the entire thing. And singing all of the songs." you weren't really asking seeing as she had already found the film, Tangled, and was ready to press play.

"I'll be fine pumpkin."

She hadn't called you that name in years. It was nice to hear it again.

As promised you quoted almost all of the movie, under your breath though, so as to not annoy Abby too much. It was more like a light whisper/lipsync. Unbeknownst to you, while you were thoroughly enjoying what was one of your favourite movies ever, Abby hadn't even been paying attention. She'd been looking at you for the majority of the film's runtime, only looking at the screen when you turned to look at her and found her not focused enough.

"You're missing important character development here Abby, he bought the apples for maximus!"

After the movie you both cleaned the dishes, then went to her room.

Another thing you forgot to consider in all your rumination, showering. You and Abby weren't the shower together type of best friends but it was definitely a 'not a big deal if we see each other naked' type of deal. So you'd often change into and out of clothes in front of each other with no problems. If the whole night so far wasn't gonna do it, this would be the fucking nail in the coffin. Abby, changing out of her clothes, right in front of you.

You didn't want to come off as suspicious by clearly turning away but you also didn't want to feel like a perv and look at her in her underwear, knowing full well that you wished it were under different circumstances. So you opted for casually directing your attention to somewhere else in the room as she stood naked a few feet in front of you.

"I guess I'll go in first," she annouced grabbing her towel and leaving the room.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you quickly undressed and wrapped your towel around your body. You sat at the edge of her bed and waited for her to be done as you tried to calm your nerves.

It absolutely did not help your nerves when she stepped out of the bathroom and into her room, glistening from the shower. Muscles on full display, unbraided hair cascading down her back while some stuck to her face. She looked like a goddess. You quickly got up and headed into the shower, leaving her in her room to change.

It was like the more you decided to just let go of your feelings for Abby, the more she'd do things that made you fall for her all over again. You ended up taking way longer than usual in the bathroom, mustering up the courage to face her again while also trying to steady your heart rate.

Finally exiting the bathroom, changed and ready for bed, she closed the door, took off her bedroom light and hopped in right next to you. At first you both stayed silent, staring up at the ceiling, before she broke the silence.

"I'm really glad you were able to come," she expressed, turning on her side to face you.

You mimicked her position, scooting a little closer to the middle of the bed. "I'm glad I did."

You stared into each other's eyes for a moment, really taking the other in, before you spoke up again.

"You said you really needed this, what's going on with you?" you asked, poking a finger into her arm.

She looked down at where you touched her arm then back up into your eyes. Sighing with a smile, she responded, "School has been kinda stressful I guess, but to tell you the truth, I just missed you." She scooted closer to you, moving her hand from under her head to caressing yours.

No. She meant that as a friend of course. Do not get your hopes up again.

"You're tense again." she pointed out, hand still laying on your hair.

God, why was she so perceptive?!

"No I'm not?" you scoffed. Your deflection did not work on her.

"Yes you are. You've got that look in your eye again," she continued caressing your hair, "What's going on up there?"

You sat up, pulling away from her touch. She followed you in sitting upright on the bed.

You knew that lying about everything being fine would not work any better than it's been all day, so you figured you'd at least give her something.

"If I tell you, you might not want to hang around me anymore."

She looked at you incredulously. How could you ever think something like that? "Did you kill someone or something?" she teasingly suggested with a laugh, that being the only plausible situation in her head. She didn't miss how you looked at her, amusement absent on your face.

"Sorry, I just- no matter what it is, I won't stop being your friend y/n." she said seriously, one hand moving to touch your thigh.

"Please don't, because if I tell you and you really don't wanna be associated with me anymore it'll just hurt more." you barely got out, eyes becoming teary. You knew you were scared of something like this happening. Your increasing heartbeat and glassy eyes further proved just how terrified this made you.

If Abby wasn't worried before, she certainly was now. "Hey, I get to decide who stays in my circle and who doesn't okay?" She cradled your face.

You shook your head, still not giving into confession. "Everything's gonna change and I don't want it to so let's just forget it."

"If things have to change...then I'll just make sure it's for the better." How could she be so reassuring without even knowing what was going to be said? She held your chin, tilting your head to look at her.

With a sigh, you finally gave in, "I feel so much..love.....for you..since high school. And it's only gotten worse recently. I swear I've tried making it go away, I've tried so much. I don't wanna be a bad friend by springing this on you but i also know that trying and failing to hide it isnt doing me any favours either so.." Tears were streaming down your face, your sniffles becoming the most prominent sound in the room.

"And now because you know, things are never gonna be the same and I just wish I'd been better at hiding it. I wish I never had these feelings in the first place. Then this wouldn't be happening and I wouldn't have to lose my best friend right after we had so much fun together."

Abby was silent. Staring into your eyes, her expression unreadable. She looked down into her lap, a small smile growing on her lips, before looking back up at you.

She leaned forward till there was barely space in between the two of you. Abby glanced down at your lips then back up to your eyes, making it clear what she was referring to. "Can I?"

Your heart rate was through the roof. There's no way she wanted this too. "Are you not.. worried about how things are gonna be between us now?"

"I said I'd make sure the change was for the better, didn't I?"

"You can."

In what felt like zero time, Abby carefully crashed her lips onto yours. Her lips were soft, her touch gentle. It was exactly what you imagined this to be like.

Gently pulling away, she wiped your tears with her thumb, looking at you with so much love in her eyes you swore the rest of the world would now be void of it.

Through sniffles and smiles you apologized, "Sorry hah, I'm a mess."

"Did you really think I couldn't love you?" Abby asked, holding your face in her hands. "I've loved you before I even knew what love was, pumpkin."

Her efforts to wipe your tears were now fruitless, your eyes pouring out streams of emotion.

She pulled you in for a hug. This time, a proper one, without the weight of what could have been laying on your entire being. You shared one more kiss, Abby then kissing your forehead as you both lay down to finally sleep. A sleep void of worries and stress.

You were actually hers.

soooo sorry if that was basically 95% buildup for 5% payoff. I totally wrote this in a whim at late hours of the night. anyway, hope you enjoy. requests are open! to those whove requested, I am working on your stuff so have no fear :>

[sugdenlovesdingle]

I see you're looking for prompts, so if you're still writing then how about:

Tommy comes over and accidentally interrupts Uncle Buck time.

Sorry it took so long! I hope you like it!

---

"Ok Jee, these need to cool off while the other batch is in the oven." Buck told his niece, putting their freshly baked cookies onto a wire cooling rack. He grabbed her hand and moved it away when she tried to grab one. "No, no, these are hot. You'll burn yourself. It'll hurt. Ouchie."

The girl tucked her hands against her chest and warily eyed the rack.

"They'll be cool enough to eat in a little while." he promised her. "And we can make the chocolate chip ones while we wait for the snickerdoodles to cool off."

"With extra chips!" Jee announced happily.

"Sure. Why not. We can even make some more so you can take them home with you when mommy and daddy come pick you up." Buck suggested. "And maybe some banana bread too..." he mumbled more to himself than to Jee.

He flicked through the cookbook he'd bought so he wouldn't have to look up recipes on his phone (and he'd be less tempted to check his text thread with Tommy) to find the right page, while Jee pointed out all of the other things she wanted to make.

"And this!" Jee pointed at a picture of a cake that looked like something out of a professional bakery and way above his skill level.

It was perfect. A complicated recipe meant his brain had no time go over that last conversation with Tommy again to try and figure out how and where he'd screwed up so spectacularly.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Buck glanced at the clock on the oven, but it wasn't anywhere near the time he expected Maddie and Chim to be back.

He quickly wiped his hands on his apron, deposited Jee on the sofa with the cookbook and rushed to open the door.

He expected to maybe find one of his neighbours on the other side, or someone trying to convince him to donate to some charity.

"Tommy?"

The other man looked about as well as he felt. Dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, and the same three day stubble that was currently on his own face.

"Hey... Uhm... I did text... And call... But you didn't reply."

"Oh uh... Yeah my uh phone is on silent..."

Tommy nodded, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket.

"C-can we talk?" Tommy stammered and Buck realised he was nervous. Cool and collected Tommy Kinard was nervous about talking to him.

Before Buck got the chance to answer, a loud beeping came from the kitchen and Jee excitedly ran up to the island.

"Uncle Buck! It's done!"

"Oh... Is this a bad time?"

"Uhm..." Buck desperately wanted to talk to Tommy, but at the same time he had to keep an eye on Jee and their baking adventures. "Just... Come on in. Close the door behind you." he rushed over to the kitchen to shut off the timer and check the cookies.

"I can just go... If I'm interrupting your time with your family..."

"No, it's fine. Stay. Please. We're baking. You can help." Buck said, almost pleading. "And when the sugar rush wears off and she's down for the count, we can talk."

"Ok." Tommy nodded and took off his jacket, hanging it on the hook by the door that had practically been his the past six months. Only this time there was no Air Ops uniform jacket next to it or a duffle on the floor.

"Jee, this is my friend Tommy, he's coming to help us." Buck announced as he took another batch of cookies out of the oven.

"Is that ok?" Tommy asked Jee, looking like he was afraid of her answer.

"We're making chocolate chip cookies." the girl told him like she was explaining the mysteries of the world. "With extra chips."

"Oh. Ok. Can I help with that?"

"Tommy is very good at baking." Buck told Jee. "Maybe he'll help us make that cake we found too."

"Sure. Just tell me what to do." Tommy said and Buck saw the exact moment the mask went on again. There was a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes and a fake cheery tone in his voice. "I'm happy to help where I can."

The three of them went to work and soon almost every available surface of the loft was covered in cooling cookies or ones ready to go into the oven.

Tommy had started to relax a little but there was still a tension to his shoulders Buck didn't like.

When he took the last batch of cookies out of the oven some time later, Jee was already out cold in the armchair and Tommy was sitting at the island with an almost perfect posture, like he was back in the army.

In the exact same place he'd sat when he'd broken both their hearts.

"So... That's the last of it." Buck wiped his hands on his apron before taking it off. "Maddie and Chim won't be back until 10... so we've got two hours."

Tommy nodded.

"Don't you want to clean up first? I can help." he offered but Buck shook his head and sat down too.

Somewhere in the back of his mind the irony of them being in the exact same place as when Tommy ended things between them did register, but he quickly pushed that thought away.

"No. Clean up can wait. I want answers." he looked Tommy in the eye. "I want to know why my boyfriend dumped me instead of telling me I was moving too fast and I freaked him out."

"I... I... I'm sorry." Tommy said eventually. "I did what I thought was best."

"For who? For me? For you? Because I haven't been doing so great these past few weeks."

"Neither have I..." Tommy admitted quietly.

"Then why did you do it? Why did you dump me?"

"I just... I'm not the last person kind of guy. People don't stay with me. I'm ok for a while... Until they get a better offer. I'm never anyone's mister right, only mister right now."

Buck frowned.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"That you're going to find someone you're going to want to settle down with and that someone is not me. And that... that hurts... but it's better to rip the band aid off now than 6 months or a year or maybe even longer if I'm lucky down the line. "

"What makes you so sure I'm going to meet someone else?"

Tommy gave him a sad smile.

"Because that's the way it always goes. It's fun for a while and then you meet the person you're meant to be with."

"What makes you think I haven't already met him?"

"Evan..."

"Don't Evan me." he took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts. He wanted to get this right. Make Tommy see he was serious. "I miss you." he started "You said you couldn't be my first and my last but I think you can. I want you to be. Ever since that first time you kissed me, I've felt more free and alive and... complete... than I ever have."

"Evan..." Tommy started again but Buck held up a hand to stop him.

"Just... let me get this out." he paused for a second "I'm a grown man, Tommy. I'm not some teenager with a crush who doesn't know what he wants. I've slept around plenty over the years... But I stopped doing that because it didn't make me happy. I wanted someone to come home to. Someone I could introduce to my friends and family. Someone who would listen to me talk about my day and tell me about theirs. Someone I could just be myself with. Who wouldn't get annoyed about my internet deep dives or if I had to cancel date night because I was too tired after a shift. "

"And you deserve that... And... And I hope you find that person."

"I already have." he grabbed Tommy's hands. "It's you. You know most of my friends and family, you've even already met my parents." he grinned, thinking back to Maddie and Chim's wedding day in the hospital. "You know the job, you even used to work at the same firehouse."

"That doesn't mean I'm good for you. Or good enough."

"Can I be the one to decide that?"

"I... I... what? I... of course... but..."

"Everyone keeps making decisions for me. Including you."

"I'm sorry..."

"No." Buck shook his head "I should stand up for myself more. Go after what I want."

"And what is it you want?" Tommy asked, trying not to get his hopes up.

"You." Buck said simply and leaned forward to kiss him, happy when Tommy didn't pull away or try to stop him. "I want you. All of you."

"I want that too but..."

"No buts. Whatever problem you think there is... we can work it out. I think what we have is worth fighting for, don't you?"

"I... Yes... Yeah it is..."

"But?"

"I'm kind of terrified." Tommy admitted. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. I've never been in a relationship where I fell so hard so fast... And that scared the hell out of me."

"That's ok. I can be brave for the both of us for now." Buck told him and kissed him again, just because he could. "But promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"Next time I move too fast or say something dumb that makes you freak out... talk to me instead of running away?"

Tommy took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

"Ok. I promise."

---

Send me a prompt and I'll write you a ficlet!

(if you've sent me one recently - I have seen it and it's most likely saved in my drafts, partially written, because I keep getting distracted - but I will finish it sooner or later!)

[dadbodbuck]

could it shine down here with you?

Rating: G | WC: 1.7k | Pairing: BuckTommy

Loosely based on this post by @loulovingho!

Summary:

Tommy doesn't realize until later that he already asked for Thanksgiving off.

Read it here on Ao3 or continue below!

Tommy is five, or maybe six, and he doesn’t like Thanksgiving. His dad is screaming at his mom because the turkey isn’t thawed. He’s calling her a lot of words that Tommy thinks are really mean. Tommy’s dad yells a lot, but it’s rarely this bad. Tommy’s mom usually waits for it to blow over, but this time, Tommy watches from the living room entry as her face crumbles and she shoulders past Tommy’s dad, breezes by Tommy, and flees into their bedroom.

Tommy wants to follow her, but his dad grabs his arm, too-tight, and tugs Tommy away towards where the half-thawed turkey is laying on the ground, cold and slimy. When they get there, Tommy’s dad hands him a garbage bag and a roll of paper towels and says “Your mom needs some time alone to think about what she’s done. Clean up this mess.”

It’s okay, because later his mom comes out of the bedroom and kneels down, her eyes red and puffy, and she tells him, “I’m so sorry you had to see that, honey. You did a good job cleaning the kitchen. It’s okay, we can still have dinner, even if I messed up the turkey,” and she makes Stovetop stuffing, and takes cranberry sauce out of a can, dishing them up on a plastic plate for Tommy, and a glass plate for her.

Tommy’s not sure where his dad went, but he’s glad it’s just him and his mom for a little while.

Tommy is twelve, and he hates Thanksgiving. He hates most holidays centered around football, actually. It’s a double-edged sword—his dad gets drunk, and his dad gets riled up, and he’s either too loud and happy, or too loud and mad. The Superbowl is Tommy’s least favorite time of the year. Especially when the Rams are playing.

The Rams aren’t playing this year, but that doesn’t mean Tommy’s off the hook. Tommy brings his dad beers when his dad calls for them, doesn’t say a word to his old man, carefully doesn’t flinch when his dad yells angrily at the screen.

For the most part, Tommy sits alone in his room and looks at the picture of his mom. It’s her high school graduation, she’s gleaming in her cap and gown. Tommy misses her.

Tommy knows that his family isn’t normal. That it’s fucked up. But he also knows how to deal with his dad, especially now that his mom isn’t around to instigate anymore. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen if he gets sent to foster care. He doesn’t want to know.

Tommy also knows, somewhere, that it’s partially his own fault. Maybe if he was a better kid—someone his dad could be proud of, this wouldn’t happen. He was always doing something to incur his father’s wrath. Plus, it’s not like his dad doesn’t love him, in his own way. Tommy loves his dad, too.

Tommy makes his own Stovetop stuffing and cranberry sauce from a can. His dad doesn’t eat it, but Tommy doesn’t care, because at least he survived Thanksgiving without any more bruises.

Tommy is eighteen, and twenty-three, and thirty-one. Thanksgiving is in a shitty barracks at the base, a tiny studio in downtown LA, and the 118 firehouse. It’s spent wolfing down an MRE, trying to figure out how to get his horrible stove to work, and eating Stovetop stuffing and cranberry sauce and praying that the alarm doesn’t go off. There are the other soldiers, and Tommy’s rescue cat Teddy, and Howie.

The MRE is as it always is. You get used to the weird textures and instant coffee and chemical heat smell of the food warmer. The funny thing about Iraq, the thing that will keep Tommy awake for years and years, is that it gets cold during the winter. Tommy knew before he shipped out that he didn’t know what much about the country, but now that he’s here, he’s stuck with sick realization after sick realization. The people here are scared, and the Army isn’t helping. Tommy looks at the other soldiers in a way he shouldn’t. Civilians are dying. War is messy in a way that allows people to excuse inexcusable violence. Tommy cannot speak the language, of either the Iraqi citizens or the people he was told would be his brothers. Iraq gets cold during the winter.

Teddy is an orange beauty, with long fluffy fur and a penchant for mischief. Tommy didn’t ask for Thanksgiving off, but it’s a holiday at the Academy, apparently. So, he’s here, listening to the click of the gas range as it tries to light. Teddy watches from the tiny countertop with uncharacteristic judgment in his eyes. When the flame finally catches, Tommy laughs victoriously, and gets to work making stuffing and cranberry sauce for the first time in years. It’s not gourmet by any means, just the Stovetop and the canned stuff, but it feels like his mom. It feels like he’s talking to her again. Tommy wonders if there’s a universe out there where his mom got help before it was too late. He eats his food in the camp chair that furnishes his pathetic living room, with Teddy invading his personal space and trying to sneak a bite for himself.

Tommy keeps the tradition of making himself Stovetop and canned cranberry sauce. He keeps it the year Howie shows up at the 118 and immediately proves himself braver and stronger than Tommy ever could be. While everyone else is busy whining about missing their grandma’s mashed potatoes, Tommy scrapes together his sacred traditional Thanksgiving feast. While Tommy’s not looking, Howie steals half of it.

“Mm!” Howie sighs, “That childhood nostalgia fakeness.”

“Hey! That was mine,” Tommy says, without any real heat. He hasn’t been able to muster anything beyond mild irritation for Howie since he saved his life.

“Oh, because you were going to eat all of that in one sitting,” Howie scoffs, “I’ll pay you back your dollar for my half if you really want.”

“No, it’s fine,” Tommy huffs, scraping out the other half for his own portion. They sit at the table and eat together, and it’s the closest Tommy’s ever had to spending Thanksgiving with someone.

It’s not until they finish eating and the bell rings that Tommy realizes Howie’s the only one who hasn’t asked Tommy if he’s sad he’s missing out on the holidays.

For the most part, his Thanksgivings after the 118 are spent much the same way, but at Harbor, and alone. He gets to put his leftovers in the fridge and eat off them for a few days. Thanksgiving (save for deep fried turkey incidents) is a relatively tame holiday. No fireworks, at least.

Then, Evan.

A lot of things change for Tommy when Evan crashes into his life, all legs and a blinding smile. Evan is a whirlwind and the most beautiful man Tommy has ever seen. Evan is kind of everything.

When Tommy realizes he’s falling in love, it makes him sick to his stomach. He remembers loving his dad enough to excuse his anger, loving his mom enough to let her slip away, loving a country enough to enact its violence, loving the sense of belonging at the 118 enough to allow the kindest people he’s ever met to suffer. Tommy doesn’t love right. He can’t let Evan get tired of him and leave. He can’t poison Evan until he turns into something cruel. So Tommy breaks up with him. Evan asks him to move in, and he can feel the iron jaws of a bear trap closing around his throat, so he breaks up with him.

Tommy doesn’t realize until later that he already asked for Thanksgiving off.

(Thanksgiving came up between them for the first time when Evan asked if he wanted to do their own thing or go over to the grand 118 Thanksgiving Feast.

“I don’t know,” Evan has shrugged, “I mean, I want to spend it with you. I don’t want to pressure you into a big thing if you don’t want to, or if—if you’re used to smaller Thanksgivings. What does your family do for Thanksgiving?”

“Um,” Tommy had said, a little caught off-guard like he was every time they brushed up against the topic of family, “We didn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving. I usually just get a box of Stovetop stuffing and a can of cranberry sauce and call it a day.”

Evan had scoffed, mock-offended. “Well! In that case, we’re going. Mark your calendar. You’re going to cream your pants when you try Bobby’s turkey.”

Tommy had smiled and thought maybe. Maybe this will be the year.)

Tommy sighs and opens the box of Stovetop stuffing. His water and butter are already boiling, so he pours the mix in and watches it saturate. He stirs it and takes it off the heat to sit. A strange, painful sadness claws at the inside of his throat. It hurts. It hurts worse than it usually does.

He doesn’t think about Evan and Bobby’s allegedly orgasm-worthy turkey and Howie introducing Tommy to Jee-yun and how close they had all seemed at the hospital for Denny. He walks over to the mantle above his fireplace, with a small, framed pawprint inside, and Teddy 2021 written underneath.

Five minutes passes slowly without anyone to distract him. Tommy tries and fails not to think about every holiday he’s spent alone, or wishing he was alone. This is the first holiday he’s wished for someone in particular who wasn’t his mom or Teddy.

Tommy eats stuffing and canned cranberry sauce at his kitchen table. Somewhere, Evan is in a house warm with love. Somewhere, Evan is loved, wholly and unconditionally. Tommy’s glad people love him. He deserves to be loved.

Tommy doesn’t like watching football on Thanksgiving, so instead he puts on Mean Girls. After his stomach settles, he’s too tired to do anything but crawl into bed and sleep until his shift in the morning.

When Tommy gets to work, he’s surprised when Lucy says, “Delivery for you in the fridge, Kinard, you better eat it before I can get my hands on it.”

Inside the fridge is a glass Tupperware container wrapped in a plastic Chinese takeout bag. There’s a sticky note attached to it that says Bobby’s turkey is even better the next day.

Tommy texts Evan and asks about it. Evan doesn’t say anything back.

But he does get a text from Howie, and the timing is too quick to be coincidence. When you’re reheating it, remember to put half a teaspoon of water in the dish so it doesn’t dry everything out in the microwave.

[webanglikethat]

things ram and devi have done and said without even saying they’re in love / being in a relationship because they drive me insane:

Ram defied orders from the LITERAL goddess because he didn’t want Devi to die, thus ignoring his duties

-> like …. he willingly let another woman DIE in Devi’s place and !!!! this act had been committed five years ago, when the affection between the two had BARELY begun blossoming

-> “Why bother when the goddess herself allows you to decide people’s fate?” had been Devi’s question to him, but little did she know, he already defied every rule for her, going against literal fate

he saved Devi during the arson, putting her before his own BROTHER

he went after Devi when she took off on an horse during the attack, and carried her in his arms back to safety (which he realllyy didn’t have to do 🤭)

it’s revealed he would purposefully change his route to catch a glimpse of Devi

-> Ram’s wishful desire was to see her at every service; just hoping to catch her smile along the hallowed halls where once they met

he “noticed an unfamiliar feeling rising inside him” when he met her again

Ram always found an excuse to touch Deviya — holding her hand to lead her somewhere, brushing his fingers over her cheek to calm her, cupping her face, putting a hand on her waist, trapping her against the wall, his finger on her lips, holding her hands tighter as if it could heal her holding her waist as she straddled him

he said he “missed her smiling at him”

he kissed her neck (quite literally marking her) while thinking of how De Clare would react, not realizing the jealousy that was growing in his heart at the thought of losing her to him

-> which he then said (in season 2) he’d do it on her wedding day too !!

-> in the same episode he tried to pretend he doesn’t care about their engagement 💀, mission failed my dude 🤭

“That. The way he felt when she was near him. The reason he always looked for her in the crowd and couldn’t stop teasing her”

ram always thought of marriage as a transaction, a duty to be fulfilled, something he simply had to do. and love? love wasn’t a necessary equation. that’s what his family line looked like — alliances, partnership, all devoid of tenderness. but Deviya awakened something in Ram — and for the first time, he was confused and lost

“It’s ironic that even with all the knowledge and wisdom of the world at my disposal, I still can’t figure this out on my own. I’m almost thirty, and for all of my life I have denied myself what I wanted because the greater good was more important. And in all this time… no one has ever been able to enchant me as much as…”

Ram talked Devi through her anger at the reception so she wouldn’t make a mistake in front of her guests and lose the position she had so long worked for (he helps her see the bigger picture)

Ram told her their connection wasn’t for nothing. they were fated for a reason

the less often he saw her, the more he wanted to see her

-> and if she didn’t came, he would wait for her

he noticed everything she did — be it the way she shifted from foot to foot when she was nervous or how she looked at him in fear (from the subtlest of things to the most obvious, he noticed it always)

he teased her about how much she liked him but then said:

“such a rakhasi cannot possibly die. I need her”

admitting, even if it was meant as a tease, that he could no longer exist in a world in which her presence didn’t fill his heart’s pages

he comforted her on the day of her death, quickly realizing that:

“/ wish this had happened to me instead... hasn't she been dealt enough pain already, in her life?”

“when Ram realized how sincere his desire to take all Deviya's troubles for himself was, it quickly became clear that their secret relationship had taken on a new meaning … growing into something profound”.

what started as a perhaps meaningless, fleeting, teasing affair quickly turned into something more — something he couldn’t put a name to, but he could feel encompassing his body every single second

he could no longer pretend it was just for fun or a distraction

so he finally mustered up the courage to ask Devi to be with him (but not officially 😔) even if it was in secret — for he would rather have her in secret, than lose her be it to death or another man. 

noticing how distressed she was, he closed his eyes and then slowly began kissing her fingers. Devi noticed that his eyelashes were trembling. “he’s nervous as well, but once again he tries to reassure me first, even though he could use some support himself."

he always put her before himself, over and over again. this isn’t something he was taught, like I mentioned before. for him, marriage or love was based on children, mutual respect and the husband’s views. yet he interminably put himself in the background, just to help Devi shine

“they kissed each other gently and yet desperately at the same time, as only doomed lovers can kiss.”

“he was with her right at that moment. sharing her pain and fear... would that have been possible if what they had was fleeting? he always chose her, no matter what.”

Ram: “I'll be with you. no matter what.” Devi: “I know”

he fought for her, allowing her to escape

and her thoughts led to him, even as she bled out

“the very thought of losing him was unbearable. and just as things were beginning to blossom between them.” “dying would be a little easier if you were holding my hand right now”

"I'm with him in my thoughts, heart, and soul." // "even if it doesn't make any real sense, it does for me. l feel calmer this way."

being away from her, when she was in a coma, made Ram feel like he was dying too // the thought of losing him (as she actively died) felt even worse than death

-> his biggest dream was being able to touch her again, to gaze into her eyes, to see his affection being mirrored in hers. to hear her laughter again was all he could hope for

they risked MULTIPLE times to be caught just to bask in each other’s presence — even if it was only for a few moments because the risk was worth it — they are worth it to each other

his face “instantly lost colour” when she mentioned her wedding

he tried pretending it didn’t hurt him — that he could accept it, that he could have a part of her and let it be enough, but they both knew the truth

so she laid out her future: her married to De Clare, visiting India from time to time, meeting Ram’s wife — but not him because he would still remain a coward who couldn’t voice what he wanted

so he finally let his feelings free and kissed her, marking her neck (in the middle of the hall where everyone could’ve caught them)

he touched her under the table — at dinner, where again, anyone could’ve seen them !!!

the moment Devi’s smile faded, Ram noticed immediately and shifted his tone, asking softly, “is something wrong?” -> he is SO attuned to her emotions, so skilled at noticing even the slightest change — which is especially important since Ram isn’t portrayed as someone who does this for just anyone

they know each other well enough to play off each other’s words without malice — their banter is so much fun (especially on passion route)

he fingers her in the library 🤭 he’s SO careful with her even though it’s obvious they’re both overwhelmed by the connection — he’s letting her set the pace and the fact that Ram doesn't push, but instead allows her to slowly move at her own pace, amplifies her vulnerability and makes her every move feel more significant. she’s still confused on what she wants and he lets her explore it on her own, and she knows he will wait for her

he wanted to dance with her despite not knowing how to — and in front of everyone too !! he was ready to embarrass himself for her

-> he is so caught up in her that he’s willing to push past his own comfort zone, even if it means embarrassing himself a little; as long as he can witness her smile

now she is the one who takes the power and kisses him, marking HIS neck — and so they imagine each other naked, finally taking the next step and ….

he finally admits it to himself.

He wanted to finally understand what it meant to connect with the woman he loved with all his heart.

Ram Doobay is in love with Deviya Sharma.

[somegrumpynerd]

Y'know when a cat falls asleep on you and you can't move? That rule also applies to henchmen and now Nightmare is trapped. Kind of a part 2 to this

At least Lyra is having fun

[hasnomoxxie]

PLEASE SHOW US AUTHOR MABEL FROM LEVITY RISES PLEASE

Okay!

My inbox is flooded with messages like these, fun fact- when I started the designs I actually didn't know what to do with her- BUT NOW IK (at least some) OF WHAT I WANNA DO WITH HER.

Still trying to figure out what I wanna do with the design and lore of the bill replacement though- Still a heavy wip!

MABEL ⇆ STANFORD

Mabel takes the role of Stanford in this au! Fun loving and enthusiastic since birth, Mabel was once a budding young photographer who eventually found her way as a newspaper journalist for Levity Rises. She quickly began to notice some of the strange things happening in the town, taking pictures and objects to create her own scrapbooks. She didn't think much of it at the time, but she was certain her brother would've liked the scrapbooks. Maybe if she'd done something earlier, she wouldn't have accidentally ended up in another dimension for 30 years- oh well- at least she knows how to kick ass across 7 different dimensions. Not sure how the identity theft is gonna work yet-

OK REFRESHER ON THE OLD CAST and added Grauntie Mabel too! One of my friends suggested to call Ford 'Sixer' the same way Dipper is named, so that's what's gonna happen going forward just cause it's a cool lil detail (plus in this au Six hides his hands in a similar way to Dipper hiding his birthmark so I think it works). Notes as per usual :]

Also yeah, I put my ussy into that logo, you're gonna see it a bit

I'll still keep thinking of stuff for this au! I have a few screenshot edits planned :D

[sunarc]

Dilf Toji fucks you nice and slow when you’re done putting Megumi down for bed. He wants to thank you for being so good to him and his son. As a single dad it gets hard so when you came into the picture offering your services it was hard to deny such a genuine offer. You’re so good to Megumi, gentle, kind and patient. Toji can’t help the growing bulge in his pants when he sees you being such a strong mother figure. He has to show you his gratitude. The best way he can do that is by having you in a mating press so he can fuck you nice and deep. 

“You like that?” his voice is a soft hum. 

You feel dizzy. His cock feels so deep. He’s stretching you out more than ever before. You call out his name in a soft whimper.

“Yeah? I’m right here doll don't worry I’m not going anywhere” he groans.

Toji’s obsessed with the way you look taking his cock. Your hole looks so perfect clenching, barely able to fit all of him. You look so full, Toji can’t help but imagine how full you would look with his cum drooling out of you. He has to see it. He’s determined to fuck you full of his cum. His cock plunges in and out of you creating a pattern. Your moans fall past your lips making a tune Toji never wants to forget. 

“That’s it, good girl, say my name” you sound so pretty to him. “Tell me who fucks you this good, say it , tell me no one can make you shake like this, no one can fill this pussy up the way i can”

He’s never felt himself lose control like this before. There’s something about you, something that leaves him desperate for more. He craves you, desires you every waking second. The way your lips part letting pleads and moans drip off your tongue has him losing his mind. He can’t get enough of you. He knows he should be quiet but the way your cunt feels squeezing him so tight he thinks he just might lose his mind. “That feel good baby? Yeah I know” he coos “I’m gonna fuck you so full” his pace is picking up speed. 

His mind is practically blank thinking of how he wants to fill you to the brim with his cum. No that’s not enough he needs to give you every last drop he has. 

“You need my cum don’t you” he’s desperate to hear you say it. He’s practically begging to hear you asking for his cum. Tell him how much you want his babies. He can make you a mommy. Don’t you want him to make you a mommy?

“Our baby is gonna be so beautiful” he whispers. He isn’t sure if you can hear him but he doesn’t mind as long as you’re still losing your mind calling out his name. 

“That’s right” he growls “Say my name while I fuck a baby into you”

His hand push your thighs further down so he can reach deeper. The way he drags his cock past you slick walls has you shaking. Your words come out slurred. 

“It’s too big” you whine as he goes deeper

“No no you can take it.” he bites he lips continuing his long deep strokes. He knows you can take it. Your eyes roll back when he begins grinding his hips into you. He knows he’s hit the spot he’s been searching for. 

“There she is” he chuckles. 

You can barely contain the moans now. Your body is shaking uncontrollably. 

“Please” you gasp “S-slow down, I’m gonna make a mess” you cry.

Toji loves the sound of that. He thrust pick up speed, fucking into you even harder. 

“That’s it, just like that, make a mess on my cock.”

He’s desperately chasing after his own orgasm. He wants to cum with you. His thrust are sloppy. He’s moaning your name pleading for you to cum for him. 

“Cum-fuck Now” he demands. 

You can’t help the juices the splatter against his abs as he fucks his load into you. The two of you are a moaning mess. You ramble incoherent words paired with his name. His eyes are glued on the sticky mess between the two of you. The squelching sounds of his cock fucking his cum back in fill the room. 

“What a pretty sight this is. I hope it’s a girl” he moans “She’ll have your eyes” 

You can barely give him a reply to focused on the way his cock is still plunging in and out. 

“It’s too much” you slur.

“No baby it’s not enough” he groans “I gotta make sure this tummy is full of my cum. One more just one more okay”

Toji has plans on fucking way more than just one more load into you. He has to fuck you full until he’s sure of it you’ll be the one carrying Megumi’s little sister.

[dekuneho]

sober ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x reader ) mdni | suggestive — liquid courage failed you before, too many times to count. this time, you're staying sharp.

mature content, alcohol/drinking, getting together, katsuki is such a boyfriend for someone who isnt your boyfriend, whipped katsuki my favorite, pov switching, 4k words

Katsuki grunts, scowling at nothing in particular. “Stupid.”

His phone vibrates in his pocket. Katsuki, pissed enough as he is, shoves a hand to squint at the message.

where r u???? hurry the fuck up. pleasee omfg

It’s from Flat Face. Figures.

eat shit and die im almost there

Without Katsuki to play the adult supervision, Sero remains the sober friend in outings, mostly because he can handle his liquor well. Sero badgers on with his texts, begging for Katsuki to hurry before they’re permanently banned at their favorite karaoke bar.

Sero follows up on a recent message with an image attached. Katsuki slows his steps to glare down at his phone. Sero’s real shitty at taking pictures, or it could be someone’s jostling him from the side. None of it matters — Katsuki’s eyes zero in on you lying on Mina’s lap, where the camera had captured you mid-laugh.

“Stupid,” Katsuki repeats, unable to tear his eyes away from your glee for a moment too long. He only snaps back to reality when his phone dims. He must’ve painted a manic picture, staring at his phone like a damn creep. Fuck.

He’ll see the real deal in a minute, but still, he saves the image in his phone gallery. That’s between him and his phone.

Katsuki ignores the crisp breeze brushing his bare face. His nose twitches, growing numb; he feels his hands ache in traces of pain that come to bloom when it’s met with a sharp chill. This feeds his irritation further, yet it’s telling that he continues to walk down the road, as if turning back home was never an option in his head.

The attendant appears relieved to see him; whether it’s from recognition of the #5 hero or the acknowledgment of this establishment’s savior from rowdy pro heroes, Katsuki will never know. Katsuki doesn’t even need to ask — she just hurries him to the far corner room where his shitty friends are situated. He mutters his thanks. She just tells him good luck. Damn.

Katsuki pulls the sliding door open and is instantly greeted by the stench of alcohol. Sero’s picture hadn’t done enough justice; seeing it in real life is worse. It’s like the aftermath of a nasty villain attack if it came in the form of piles and piles of beer and alcohol puddles and bar snacks all over the table. Kirishima’s knocked out on Sero’s shoulder, drooling. Jirou is also fast asleep, taking an entire couch, leaving Sero to huddle uncomfortably on the edge of a corner. Mina’s holding the microphone, but nothing’s playing; she’s just singing shit. You’re laughing at Mina, clutching your stomach.

He nearly stumbles over a leg belonging to Kaminari, who’s sprawled on the floor for some fucking reason.

“The fuck happened?” he hisses, narrowly missing Kaminari's arm swinging to latch onto his ankle.

Cheers erupt from all around the table when they register Katsuki’s arrival. Sero looks like a single parent of five — which may just be the case.

Sero sighs. “It’s like I blinked and was left with this.”

Katsuki snorts. At least he knows how it feels. He's felt that way since year fucking one.

He steps over Kaminari's body, ignoring his cry, heading straight towards you. Raccoon eyes is talking to Katsuki — something about him being a jackass for bailing on tonight, not that Katsuki gives a single fuck.

“Killjoy. Boring. You’re getting boring, old man!” Mina yells at his face.

“Fuck off,” Katsuki says reflexively. “We’re celebrating again next week anyway. Don’t start with me.”

You beam at him, hands reaching out like a fucking child or something. He begins to pry you off Mina’s lap, but his hold under your arms gives notice to how you’re shivering.

Katsuki shrugs his coat off and drapes it over you. Looks like he’ll have to take you home himself.

“Sero,” Katsuki voices in a bite, glaring over his shoulder.

Sero rushes to service as Katsuki shifts to his back, leaving Kirishima to sag beside Jirou, their snores harmonizing. Sero drags you to settle on Katsuki’s back, where Katsuki quickly hunches over and shifts his palms under your thighs. You mumble happily, burrowing your nose into the nape of his neck.

Katsuki slings a heated warning in Sero’s direction before the bastard can laugh about it.

“Call a cab,” he grunts out. “Wake Shitty Hair up; he can help you with those shits.”

Sero flicks a hand in a mock salute.

It was a tedious process, but everyone managed, eventually. They all crash at Kirishima’s house. They’ll be fine. And if someone’s house burns down — well… they’re heroes, they’ll still be fine.

Katsuki adjusts his hold, exiting the bar as the cab drives off. He walks, the cold billowing a soft cloud in each breath.

“You awake back there?” he asks, staring ahead.

“Mm, you take such good care of me, Katsukiii,” you coo in his ear, your lips brushing over the shell of his ear.

He shivers, feeling warmth creep up the back of his neck. You laugh irritatingly, grating his nerves and fluttering his stomach. He bristles at the sensation, snarling nonsense that you don’t even listen to, too busy giggling over damn who-knows-what.

“Walking me back to your home, huh? What are you, my bodyguard? You big, strong … hunk of a man…”

Katsuki huffs in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Katsuki,” you drawl, your hand sliding over his bicep. “You’re so good to me. You take care of me, y’know?”

“I know,” Katsuki says, devoid of its usual snark. “‘s ‘cause you can’t do it yourself.”

“Ha-ha!” You lean your chin on his shoulder. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right. Wish you could … take care of me like this … forever.”

“Idiot,” Katsuki says, mostly to himself. You don’t respond either way.

Katsuki can fucking smell the alcohol reeking from your mouth. He’s about to tell you off, complain about your goddamn stink, but you’ve gone limp in his hold.

“Do you mean that?” Katsuki starts, and it’s met with silence. Then, snoring.

Katsuki doesn’t smile, but the by-passers would argue otherwise.

This is bad. Starting to get bad.

You got somewhat shit-faced drunk in hopes of making a move on Katsuki with liquid courage, but he’d taken care of you so well that you didn’t even have a hangover as an excuse the moment you jolted to consciousness. Your head is starting to clear up, losing its fog and illusion of confidence, and your brain is running off at full speed.

This isn’t the first time you’ve sobered up while in the warmth of Katsuki’s bed, an hour or so after he whisked you away from your shared friend group.

What the fuck am I doing? You want to punch something and scream, ideally where Katsuki can’t see you throwing a tantrum.

You turn to your side where Katsuki’s still in deep sleep, shoulders rising and falling at once like a decrescendo, slow and steady. It’s a heart-aching sight — achingly bare.

He has his back turned. You hold your breath and peek over, hands catching an inch away from Katsuki’s face, catching a view of his mouth open just a tiny bit for quiet snores to come out. It’s unbearably cute. He must’ve been tired, having to take care of your careless drunk ass all night, and it’s not even the first time.

This isn't anything new either — sleeping on the same bed. You remember it from the first night. He shrugged it off, saying he didn't want to carry your ass anymore. You're already makin' me take care of your dumb ass every time this shit happens — you expected me to go 'n sacrifice the bed I bought with my own money?

"Scandalous," you said, at the time, reeling from how defensive Katsuki had been.

"Not like I'm gonna do anythin' to you." Katsuki stared you down. "Why? You wanted me to?"

How embarrassing to resort to liquid courage and still fail.

This has to end. You are definitely not aiming to become a drunkard just to have a chance with your crush.

“Morning,” a gravelly voice mutters, breath hot on your face.

You come to the startling realization that you've been hovering over Katsuki for longer than you intended. His intense gaze arrests yours, tension hanging in the hair. Like doused in a bucket of cold water, you jerk away and flounder, half-baked syllables spilling as some attempt of an excuse. There is no other explanation for that — you were ogling Katsuki in his sleep.

Katsuki doesn’t smirk, but the mirth lighting in his eyes comes very close to it. He pulls you to his side, gripping one of your wrists and positioning it on the other side of his head. He adjusts your hold until you’re pinning him down.

You choke on your breath. “What—”

This time, Katsuki grins. “You're gonna strain your shoulders, idiot.”

Dangerous man, the primal instincts of your brain scream, flinching away, hissing. The hormonal side begs you to pounce on him and wipe that smug expression off his handsome face.

You quickly pull back, recoiling away, only to find yourself back up to the firm surface of Katsuki’s thigh, where he had lifted it in his wake. The shock sends a sharp jolt of aching pain at your violent reaction. You whimper and clutch at your head, dizziness inciting a pathetic: Owww.

“Don’t move so much, fucking dipshit,” Katsuki hisses, easing your hips down on his other thigh that’s laid flat on the bed. “Don’t you fuckin' dare throw up so goddamn early. Shit, it’s like, what, four AM?”

You sag against him, feeling at ease without the strain of your muscles holding your weight up. Katsuki’s like a mountain mass furnace — how nice. You don’t even register that you’re all but straddled on his thigh; if anyone were to walk in, they’d be well within their rights to assume the worst.

Katsuki cranes his neck as he reaches for a glass. You jostle at the movement, grumbling, and Katsuki mutters a quiet ‘sorry,' holding the water to your lips. You take gulps of water slowly, careful not to spill and ruin Katsuki’s strangely soft mood.

“Thanks,” you say. Katsuki’s actions and the weight of his tone — everything is off-kilter with the mood that’s just set. He’s really… “Sorry for the trouble,” you say in a hushed whisper, guilt settling in.

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t,” Katsuki snaps, frown deepening. His eyes don’t convey the same ire.

“Yeah.” You nod, fond. “You don’t do anything you don’t want to, huh?”

Katsuki’s expression shifts. Just slightly, before it melts back into practiced blankness. “So?”

Everything’s straightforward with Katsuki. But even then — even then, he might not mean it in the same way as you’re hoping.

“I wasn’t that drunk, you know.” You want to look away, but you’re finding it difficult to even try. “I never was. I — I know this is the third time this happened.”

Katsuki lifts a brow. “You remember the first time you threw up in my car then?”

Your face erupts in flames. “I’m so sorry.”

Katsuki pushes you by the small of your back, closer to him. You swallow back an embarrassing noise, somehow quick enough to balance yourself on his chest before you plant your nose to his face. Katsuki’s ruby gaze pins you down, even when you’re the one on top of him. Dangerous, dangerous, leave, your brain yowls. Your body, your heart — stays incredibly still, obedient in the face of the man who's got you weak.

“Do you remember what you said last night?” Katsuki asks, several octaves deep. Roused freshly from slumber.

You squirm. His skin feels hot to the touch, even through his fucking black tank top. “I said a lot of dumb shit, Katsuki.”

“Do you mean them, then?”

You file through your memories, trying to pinpoint precisely what he’s talking about. Katsuki’s patient, seemingly content with keeping you on his lap, staring. You’re the humiliated one here.

“What did I say?” you demand, nerves constricting in your chest.

Katsuki pushes his torso up with a hand, inching his face impossibly close. The heat of his gaze spreads through your entire body. You’re sure he can feel it, too — hard to miss when you’re a lapful of a flighty cat perched on him.

His nose brushes against yours, eyes flickering down. Your breath hitches, caught in the hush of the moment.

“Katsuki?” you ask in a fearful whisper. Katsuki’s eyes snap back to meet your gaze.

“‘m hungry,” Katsuki mutters, leaning back.

Your face burns, his warmth lingering on the space before you. Your hands touch over your face, winded. Still aware of Katsuki’s intense gaze, you pull off from his lap, ignoring the scream of your headache as you dash to the kitchen.

You really thought he was going to kiss you.

No, maybe it's more accurate to say you were hoping for it. You almost pleaded for him to. Had he lingered, you would’ve thrown yourself all over him, begging, Please, please, Katsuki kiss me — I need you. How embarrassing is that? To need someone so badly that he's your waking thought, and yet you hate seeing him around?

Instead, the morning ended with Katsuki lending his shirt and driving you back to your apartment — a set routine — the third time. You talked to ease the tension, but it was a fruitless attempt at the question hanging in the air, dangling in front of both your faces. Katsuki doesn’t bring it up, so you hang onto the sliver of mercy he’s granted.

The week passes, and still, you aren't quite ready when another chance comes again.

You wonder if he’ll bring it up tonight.

This time, the party is in honor of celebrating Katsuki’s — Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight — ascension to the Top 5 in the Pro Hero ranking. Katsuki’s not surprised, but most of the class is; he hasn’t laid off on the crude language, so it’s a wonder he even got into the Top 10 at all.

Most of your former classmates are busy with their duties and patrol, and Katsuki isn’t keen on inviting more than five people to his house. Unfortunately for him, Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero, Jirou, and Kaminari wouldn’t miss this celebration for the world — Villains be damned, it’s Bakugou Katsuki’s big day. It’s an unspoken agreement that you tag along. Katsuki also texted you that you were late an hour ago, so it’d be no use for anyone to upset Katsuki.

Of course, parties go hand-in-hand with alcohol. You had been avoiding Katsuki since that night, fleeing at every glimpse of blond hair. No one has noticed, except maybe Katsuki, whose eyes linger on you for five seconds longer than usual when you knock on his door.

His gaze sends a lick of heat down your spine, and the night’s just starting.

There needs to be a change of plans. If trapping him drunk doesn’t work after three failed attempts, then you have no choice but to do it sober.

That scrap of interest Katsuki had shown last week was more than enough encouragement. If you don’t end up confessing your feelings tonight, then that just means you’re never meant to do it at all — which would’ve been the easiest way out if Katsuki didn’t make it so hard.

“Hey,” you say. "I'm here."

“Finally,” he mutters. Your lips quirk up in humor.

Katsuki’s gaze slips from your collarbone to your thighs before flicking back up. A flame of interest makes itself known to you, to your chagrin. You’re no better: Katsuki’s dressed in low-hung jeans and a black fitted tank top under a striking red button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. How can he make a simple nothing look so sinful?

Katsuki steps back, presenting the surprisingly neat get-together your friends have set up. There’s a buffet of food spread across Katsuki’s dining table — and because you know Katsuki well enough to be privy to his skills in the kitchen, you can tell he cooked all of them. There are banners spelling his name out beside Congratulations!, which must be Katsuki’s limit, seeing the lack of confetti.

“You’re here!” Mina shrieks, bounding over to encase you in a tight hug.

Air knocks out of your lungs as she squeezes your neck. You tap Mina’s back in distress. The room lights up with laughter, greeting you in turn. Kaminari moves to ruffle your hair, but his eyes catch on something behind you, and he pales and hides behind an amused Kirishima.

Katsuki heads to the kitchen island, alcohol lined up in a neat pile. You decide firmly that you are not getting drunk — you will power through with your plan, and that’s your mission for the day.

You pump your fist once and exhale roughly. Plus Ultra! Mina says you look stupid, dragging you off to the living room.

You’re squished between Kaminari and Mina, who throw their heads back for a shot.

True to your word, you denied any shot glasses offered, instead busying your mouth with the food Katsuki cooked. It's too bad you can't shut your brain the same way.

It’s tempting — really, really tempting. You haven’t been able to approach Katsuki, feeling too much like you should just forget about whatever plan you had for a confession and ride the tide back to normalcy. To get shitfaced drunk and leave it for you to deal with in the morning. But whenever you meet Katsuki’s eyes — it’s like you’re back on his bed, he’s too close for comfort, and you're reminded of all those mornings you wished was so much more last night, and the itch for alcohol is swept away.

Mina rests her head on the curve of your shoulder, her hair tickling your cheek. She asks, too nonchalantly for your liking—

“Have you and Katsuki fucked this week yet?”

You’re fortunate enough to have decided to skip alcohol for tonight, or else you would’ve died from choking on it. You glance over, hoping Katsuki hadn't been paying attention, but to your relief, he was absorbed in a discussion with Kirishima. “I’m — Have we — What?!”

Mina barrels on obliviously. “Had sex. Gotten busy. Under the covers. Hands-on learning—”

“No, I — What the fuck!” You shove her off. Mina sways in place; you'd feel sorry if you weren’t so scandalized. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Oh.” Mina tilts her head and watches your reaction thoughtfully. “No wonder why. Katsuki’s looking all tense lately.”

What the hell. “So?!”

Your shriek disturbs the peace of the party.

Kaminari chimes in to add to the blow. You lock eyes with Katsuki from across the room — must be the ninth time this evening — while Mina and Kaminari crowd in on you, relentless with probing curiosity. “I also thought he was acting like he was lacking some action—”

Blood rushes to your cheeks as you rip your gaze off Katsuki’s questioning stare. Then, in a low whisper, “Katsuki and I have never — we aren’t even—”

Kaminari turns his head, presumably to eye Katsuki. “Why does he look like he’s about to eat you up?”

“Do I look like I can read his mind?” You feel irritation like a blade on your nerves. “If he’s all tense, then he should get his dick wet — and I’m not involved in any of that.”

Mina gapes, disgusted. “What? You’d just let him fool around with someone else?”

“Why would that be my issue?”

Mina and Kaminari share a look. “Oh my god.” 

“You’re actually not together? Not even, like — just fooling around as friends?”

“No, Kaminari.” You hate how you sound defeated admitting that. “No, we’re not.”

“Fuck,” says Mina emphatically. “Fuck! You’ve got to fuck!”

“What — Why is this my responsibility? If he’s happy fucking someone else, let him be — You want him to loosen up, don’t you?”

Mina’s face shifts into a devious little thing. “You look like you want him to loosen you up.”

"That's so gross, Ashido."

Kaminari grins knowingly. “You jealous? Why’s that, huh?”

“Because I’ve been wanting to confess to him for two months now, and my liquid courage is nothing but a fucking cock-blocker!” you hiss in a frantic whisper.

“We’ve got to fix this!” Mina says, the hero that she is. “We need you to get laid!”

“Please tone it down,” you plead.

Kaminari tugs you down in a mock of a team huddle. You squirm uncomfortably; you can taste the liquor in their breaths. “What’s your game plan?” he asks. “Seduce him? Lock him up in his room, maybe?”

“I guess? I just want to do it sober.”

Mina suddenly leaps to her feet, yelling like a soldier. “Isolate him, then force your love!”

“Sober and preferably not unhero-like.”

Mina squeals, cupping your cheeks. “Do it tonight. He’s ready, I can feel it. He’s looking at you.”

Everyone in the room is casting glances at the three of you, but thankfully, Sero, Jirou, and Kirishima are respectful enough not to approach and disrupt the troubling conversation for your dignity’s sake.

“Of course he’s looking at me,” you wallow in mortification. “You’re making it too obvious. I’m going to get bullied.”

Mina smirks, her gaze trained ahead. “Yeah, you’re going to get bullied alright.”

You splutter, “What do you mean—”

Katsuki hovers over you three. “Let’s talk,” he demands, glaring hotly.

You’re back in Katsuki’s room, this damned space — the source of all your longing dreams and fantasies. The music from downstairs dials up, though it seems like it’s more out of consideration for you both. You’d been whisked away by Bakugou Katsuki once again, both of you blatantly disregarding the obscene gestures Mina and Kaminari were making as he pulled you upstairs. This time, however, you’re as sober as ever. It feels so different, like you're pulled out after submerging in the water for too long. Everything is so loud and clear.

Katsuki cages you against his door, never one to mess around.

“If I made you uncomfortable, punch me,” Katsuki says out of nowhere.

You’re speechless. “What?”

“Just — yell at me or some shit. Don’t start avoidin’ me, and don’t just move on to some other extra,” Katsuki mutters, deliberately averting your wide eyes. Move on to another— "I'll leave you alone."

"Why would I…" Move on to someone else? That's almost disrespectful to all the pining that's fucked with your head since this crap started. Move on? From Bakugou Katsuki?

"You were talking about it with those assholes."

Oh. He overheard all the wrong parts.

"I'm not gonna hook up with anyone else!"

The tension that has coiled tightly around his shoulders eases. Yet, despite this, he still hadn't made any bold moves to lead you to his bed, holding onto a fragile thread of hesitation that lingered in the air between you. Like you didn't just admit you're exclusively waiting for him.

His face twists up. “And, about that night, I wasn’t gonna — fuck, I’m not gonna do shit you don’t want, but I can’t read your mind. I don't wanna fuck this up.”

“What are we talking about?”

“The kiss, dammit — shit. Get it straight before I get the wrong idea.” Katsuki groans, resting an arm above your head. Is it wrong to be so endeared by someone clearly struggling to get his point across? “Do you mean it?”

You furrow your brows, arms crossed. This again. “What did I say, Katsuki?”

“When you said you wanted me to take care of you forever.”

What the hell? Did you really say that? Screw the exclusiveness of sex, that was basically a proposal!

Katsuki hooks a finger on your chin and forces your gaze back to him. Pay attention to me. Your eyes drift away for a second, catching on his ears, tinted ears — in contrast to his fierce scowl.

Your shoulders relax somewhat. Then you can't help but laugh.

Right, this is still just Katsuki. Your best friend, crush since forever; the guy who took care of you without even asking for anything in return. The guy who apparently has been considering your boundaries even though you've been seducing him drunk too many times.

“Why are you laughing,” Katsuki hisses; his frustration sounds more agitated than furious.

“So you did want to kiss me that morning?”

“No shit,” Katsuki huffs in a humorless laugh. “But, fuck, I’m not shitty enough to force you—”

“Katsuki,” you interrupt, “you should’ve.”

He falls silent, red eyes piercing yours searchingly.

Dangerous, your mind whispers, but you’ve never wanted to experience a thrill like this in your life. “I really wanted you to.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re lucky you took good care of me before I pounced on you drunk,” you say, and you mean it too. Your hands snake over his shoulder, tugging him down.

Katsuki’s breath catches in his throat, looking caught off guard. Wide-eyed and unsure. Cute. “Are you drunk right now?” he asks carefully.

“Never been more sober in my life,” you breathe.

He dives in for a rough kiss, one hand on the back of your head to push you deeper into him. You tilt your head to the side and — yeah, that’s better. Katsuki pries your mouth open, coaxing noises out of you that he each answers with a groan.

He smells like alcohol in his breath. It mixes with the scent of smoke — a dizzying, cloying scent that screams Katsuki. You want this more than Katsuki realizes. You want to sleep with it, to wake up to it.

“How much did you drink?” you ask.

“Just two light ones,” Katsuki says, and then one side of his lip quirks up. “Thought I had to take your ass home again.”

You smile coyly, tracing a finger over his bicep. “We can skip the foreplay — I'm already in your home, aren't I?”

Katsuki goes very, very still. Staring blankly. You hope you can convey it — you hope he doesn’t back out and pull away. You know he’ll get it. Katsuki is smart enough to pick up on your pleading gaze. His eyes burn; clearer, now, bright with understanding. 

I want this, too. You’re not sure if you or Katsuki said it.

You take his daze as a chance to push him to his bed, with you straddling legs as his eyes devour every inch of you.

“Get the fuck out of here if you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” Katsuki says seriously.

You settle over his thigh, mimicking that morning, hands splayed on his chest. Katsuki wheezes out a breath that sounds like he’s been slammed onto a wall, his grip latching onto either side of your hips right away.

“Take care of me again?” you ask.

“Holy fuck,” Katsuki says.

© dekuneho 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate. do not input this to AI.

if you read my previous drabble ik i recycled it… but in my defense this one came first. thanks for reading mwa

[fruithoughts]

PRINCESS TREATMENT

‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤh. joshua x fem!reader  ⪩⪨

01.ㅤۗㅤ𝙼ember .  ⎯⎯⎯  joshua.

02.ㅤۗㅤ𝙲𝚆 .  ⎯⎯⎯ multiple pet names, possessive thoughts, mentions of blowjobs(m.) and sex, just a very gentle guy who loves his girl more than anything.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua whose instagram is filled to the brim with pictures of his beautiful girl, sometimes he forgets to tag you but it’s okay because it takes no sherlock holmes to figure out your username since he only follows your account and a naruto fanpage. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who wants you to meet his parents in less than a month into the relationship, it’s extremely important to him to make it as clear as possible that he is serious about you, leaves no room for overthinking at all, always a step ahead of you in the “would you still love me if i was a worm?” department, the best boy indeed. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who would rather take a bullet than let you pay for literally anything, because how dare you even suggest paying for your own things? as if you don’t know the only reason he works so hard it’s exactly so he can pamper you endlessly? the absolute nerve of you, better get on your knees and start apologizing.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who is the sassiest and most dramatic guy you’ve ever been with, but can not for the life of him handle the thought of you doing any work at all, in every aspect, which, ironically, sometimes makes you work even harder to get what you want.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who makes it the world’s most difficult challenge to accept receiving head from you for the first time, he enjoys being the one doing all of the work to make you feel good, he just couldn’t see how blowing him off would please you at all so he kept denying(while completely ignoring the tent forming rapidly in his grey sweatpants) until you begged too sweetly, so softly, looking at him with so much adoration and love, like you wanted nothing more than to please him, he could have finished right there but instead he shook his head and sat down in the bed, ready to give his princess anything she could ever want, just like he promised he would! even if what she wanted was to kneel in front of him and try to fit his thick cock into her little mouth for a while.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who uses every opportunity that stumbles across his way to show off his huge arms, it’s a win-win scenario, he gets to feel all hot and manly and you get to hold onto your boyfriend’s strong biceps everywhere you go and get carried on bride style after a night out that, honestly, didn’t even leave you that drunk, but since he offered to carry you, who would ever say no?

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who adores your nails and is always super excited to see the results of your nail appointments, asks for pictures during the whole process, sends you food when it’s taking too long, and finally when the nails are done, he’s there to pick you up in his shiny car, more than ready to do the last step of your nail day, which is putting them to the test, the scratch test. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who just can’t help but adore when you leave him all marked up, he loves it, and how can you blame him? was he supposed to be normal about having proof straight on his body of just how good he made you feel last night? how could you even consider he'd do such a thing? this man is not normal about you in general. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who knows your entire wardrobe like the back of his hand, half of it because he bought it, the other half because of how often he’s watching you, definitely a “i look at you more often than you think” kinda guy. he’s very proud of just how well he knows his baby.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who remembers all of your food preferences and orders, knows all of your allergies, all of your icks and all of your friend’s gossips because he’s just so well behaved! he won't tell anyone, he never would! he's your joshy! you can trust him to keep all of your secrets, forever.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who’s very open about the fact that he wants to marry you, live the rest of your lives together, maybe with a kid if you’re into that, maybe just dogs if that’s better for you, he got his own wishes when it comes to creating a family, but at the end of the day; this man has one priority, and she has a name. whatever is best for you, it’s the best for him.

⪩⪨ husband!joshua who no matter how long it has passed since you got married, has not lost even a little bit of his obsession with you. his precious flower, his cute little thing, his darling, his sweet girl, that’s all you’ll ever be to him, all his to love and protect, forever.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝟴 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗨𝗧𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where a fan made an 8-minute video with a compilation of Chris and Y/N being in love.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @lightsgore

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The fans of the triplets simply adored Y/N and Chris together, and that wasn't news. The number of comments and likes doubled whenever the girl appeared with her boyfriend in a random picture in a photo dump on Instagram or when her voice sounded in the background of a video.

But what they loved most was when a cute moment of the two of them together was captured during a video on the Sturniolo channel or in a fraction of seconds on Y/N's TikTok, and they made this clear by making thousands of compilations of these little moments, long enough to even post on YouTube.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

8 minutes of cute moments between Chris Sturniolo and his girlfriend, Y/N.

1st minute:

The triplets and Y/N were walking down the sidewalk near the arena in Boston, where they played hockey with Nate.

Nick was recording himself with his phone, talking about how he had almost slipped on the ice several times, when Chris and Y/N's voices sounded, interrupting him. He focused the front camera on the two behind him, surreptitiously recording them.

"... But baby, it wasn't my fault." Y/N complained, her lips forming a pout as her eyes focused on the floor.

"Babe, I asked you to record the game, right?" Chris asked, an amused smile on his face.

They walked side by side, the girl's right arm around her boyfriend's slightly sweaty waist, while Chris's left arm rested on Y/N's shoulders, his fingers caressing her left bicep lightly.

"Yes, and I recorded it!" Her voice came out high-pitched.

"Okay, and how many times did I make a goal?" The boy asked again, raising his right eyebrow.

"Three." Y/N replied in an obvious tone, raising her eyes to look into the blue ones she loved so much. "You kissed me every time you did it." She smiles proudly.

"Yes, and how many of those three did you record?"

"None." She looked down again, her pout deepening. "But-"

Chris threw his head back, his laughter echoing through the night, interrupting his girlfriend's defense.

He leaned down slightly, sealing his lips over Y/N's head, an amused smile still on his face. Oh, how he loved his girlfriend.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

2nd minute:

The triplets were filming the video "A night at the North Pole with Larray and Nai!". The camera was positioned in a strategic point so that the lens captured all the camping items around the room, as well as the brothers and the two guests.

Y/N was in her shared room with Chris, already dressed in her - his - pajamas and with her skincare done, ready for bed. But sleep never came.

She knew she had trouble sleeping without Chris after her body got used to the boy's presence pressed against hers every night for 5 years, so her mind didn't seem to give in, begging for the warmth that Chris's larger body provided.

After a few long minutes of turning from side to side, Y/N gave up trying. Sleep was taking over her, and she was feeling more and more stressed for not being able to go into dream land, so she decided to just go to her boyfriend.

Y/N rose from the bed, their duvet wrapped around her body like a cape. Her hands reached for the handle of the white door, closing it behind her and climbing the stairs in slow, silent steps caused by the fluffy socks that covered her feet.

Larray was the first to notice her - sitting facing the top of the stairs. He smiled, amused by his friend's condition; her eyes slightly closed from sleep, her hair high in a messy bun, and her hands gripping the edges of the duvet tightly.

Not many seconds passed, and Y/N's figure was finally caught by the camera, the girl having entered the frame.

"Hey, zombie girl." Nick joked when he noticed her, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

Y/N completely ignored him, walking towards her boyfriend from behind the triplets, not wanting to step on the food that was on the floor between the five of them.

Chris's face automatically lit up when he noticed her after hearing his brother, a big smile taking over as his eyes sparkled. He opened his arms, already waiting for his girlfriend's next move.

The girl smiled lazily back, planting her feet on the floor on either side of her boyfriend's hips, before lowering herself with Chris's help, sitting on his lap.

The brunette quickly wrapped her in his arms, surrounding her torso covered by the fluffy duvet. He hugged her tightly, laying his head in the crook of her neck and exhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo momentarily, before resting his chin on her shoulder, being able to see everything in front of him.

"Sleep, pretty girl."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

3rd minute:

Chris was playing Fortnite live on Twitch. His camera was on and focused on his upper body. His head was covered by the hood of his hoodie, pressed against his ears by the headphone, from where muffled sounds from the video game were coming out.

Within 30 minutes of streaming, Y/N's figure shyly appeared behind Chris. Her hands held a tray with some snacks and an already opened can of Pepsi.

She walked towards her boyfriend, curving her spine slightly forward so that her face came into his field of vision, alerting him to her presence.

The boy's blue eyes widened in excitement almost instantly, a smile stretching across his face as his right hand worked on pausing the game, using the soles of his feet against the floor to turn his body towards her.

"Hi bubba, I just came to drop off some snacks for you. It's been a while since you had dinner, I thought you could be hungry." Y/N counted in a low tone, momentarily forgetting that Chris's headphones were of the highest quality, meaning it caught her every word.

The couple didn't notice the chaos in the chat, too focused on each other.

Chris bit his lower lip in an attempt to stop his smile from growing any wider, taking the tray from Y/N's hands and placing it on the free space on his computer desk.

He lifted his chin slightly in the air so that he brought his lips closer to hers, sealing them in a quick kiss, his eyes shining with intense love.

"Thank you, babe." Chris thanked in an equally low tone, adjusting himself in his chair again, ready to go back to playing.

Y/N smiled, caressing his shoulder lightly before turning to leave the room.

"I love you." The brunette shouted quickly before his girlfriend could close the door, receiving an "I love you more" in return.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

4th minute:

The triplets and Y/N were at an Italian restaurant, having decided to go out to dinner together that day.

Y/N was talking to Matt about one of the random facts that the boy knew and blurted out of nowhere, the two deeply involved in the conversation.

The dishes had just been delivered by the waiter, who placed them respectively in front of the person who ordered, leaving shortly afterward.

Chris quickly pulled Y/N's plate towards himself, grabbing his own knife and fork and cutting the sirloin steak into small pieces and separating them from the pasta, knowing how much his girl hated cutting meat and how she always ate too quickly.

What he didn't notice was that Nick took out his phone the moment he started the gesture, closely recording his brother cutting his girlfriend's food, practicing the act of service.

After finishing, Chris lightly pushed the plate in front of his girl, turning around to start eating his own.

The girl smiled shyly, turning to Chris momentarily, sealing her lips over his cheek before murmuring a "thank you, babe" against his skin, turning her attention back to Matt.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

5th minute:

The triplets were in their car, recording another car video. Y/N was their special guest, sitting in the backseat next to Chris, who chose to sit there just to be close to his girlfriend.

Y/N had just taken a bite of the pepperoni pizza that Nick took from the trunk, finishing chewing quickly so she could bring her point of view on something Nick was saying, gesturing with her right hand while her left held the piece carefully.

Chris watched her closely, his eyes fixed on her side profile as he listened, nodding his head.

Something the fandom loved was how Y/N was the only person Chris didn't interrupt all the time, showing himself completely interested in hearing anything his girl was saying, regardless of whether it made sense or not.

At one point, the boy lowered his eyes, stretching his right arm and taking one of the napkins that was on the car console, bringing it to Y/N's mouth, lightly wiping the corner of her lip that was dirty with sauce, but without interrupting her.

Chris folded the napkin, leaving it on his lap, knowing he would have to use it again soon.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

6th minute:

"Look, boys, learn from Chris how to treat a girl right." Nick whispered from behind his phone.

He was standing behind the kitchen table, holding his cell in his right hand, the rear camera focused on the living room couch, where Y/N was.

The girl was lying on her side, her knees bent so that her thighs touched her chest. Her back was facing the room, while her face was lightly pressed against the back of the couch. A Fresh Love sweatshirt set covered her body, keeping her warm.

Small sighs escaped her half-open mouth, her eyes moving behind her eyelids, showing how deep her sleep was.

Chris, who was sitting with her feet on his lap seconds ago, was now standing in front of the couch, curving his spine down so that he could reach his girlfriend, slowly passing his arms under her neck and bent knees, pulling her up.

On instinct, Y/N raised her left arm, surrounding Chris's neck and laying her head on his chest, waking up for just a few seconds, caressing his covered skin with the tip of her nose.

"Shh, sleep baby. I'm right here." Chris murmured in a low tone, sealing her forehead lightly, stopping his movements as he watched her close her eyes again, falling back to sleep.

Chris moved slowly, hugging Y/N's body against his as he walked towards the stairs, not noticing Nick recording them from afar.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

7th minute:

Y/N was sitting on the puff in front of her makeshift dressing table. Her phone was resting on it horizontally while her front camera recorded herself.

She was talking about the new trend in the fashion world, having as a hobby making videos for TikTok about fashion and makeup. While the girl explained in detail, her hands worked on doing her nighttime skincare, gesturing, and changing products alternately.

Chris's figure appeared behind her a few seconds after she started it, his hands holding Y/N's hairbrush. He was already ready to sleep, his eyes half closed with sleep and his hair slightly messy.

A habit created by the couple was that, while Y/N did her skincare before bed, Chris would carefully comb her hair, having always had a great love for her locks.

The boy approached his girlfriend, smiling quickly at the camera before stopping behind Y/N. His free hand parted her hair so he could comb it without hurting her or leaving any part behind.

Chris raised his hand with the hairbrush, starting to do it gently, untangling the knots created throughout the day and aligning the strands.

His eyes met Y/N's from time to time through the mirror, a small smile resting on his lips, adorning his passionate features.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

8th minute:

It was the Versus Tour; Matt, Chris, and Nick were playing the last round of Giant Jenga when Chris spotted a fan with a sign held up.

"Wait, before we continue, can I read a sign from a fan real quick?" The brunette interrupted the group, holding his microphone with his right hand and pointing at the crowd with his left one, receiving absurdly loud screams in response.

Matt shrugged, looking at Nick, who nodded, making a go-ahead gesture with his hands.

"Hi! Can I read your sign?" Chris turned back to the audience, pointing to a specific girl. The girl's eyes widened, her mouth opening in shock at being noticed by her idol, taking a few seconds to finally nod her head repeatedly. "Your sign says, "I'm only here for Y/N"-"

Loud screams interrupted Chris, fans going wild at the mention of his girlfriend's name. The brunette took the microphone away from his mouth, laughing in disbelief and looking at a specific area on the right side of the stage.

A fan, who was in the audience and recording the moment, focused the rear camera of her phone on the place where Chris looked, being able to capture the figure of Y/N, who was laughing loudly and clapping her hands in amusement, shaking her head.

"Well, I can't judge you. Everywhere I am, I only go for Y/N, too." Chris muttered into his microphone again, laughing as he received even louder screams in response.

His eyes met his girlfriend's, throwing an air kiss and an "I love you" with just a movement of his lips, before turning his attention back to the game.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra minute:

The triplets and Y/N were at their house with Nate and Madi. Everyone was in the living room, talking about random topics while a movie played on the television at low volume, serving as ambient sound. Some board games were scattered on the floor, next to unopened or already eaten snacks.

Chris was sitting on a puff in front of the big windows while Y/N was on his lap. She had her legs thrown to one side while her torso was on the other, sitting sideways on Chris's thighs with her right shoulder resting on his chest.

Chris's arms encircled her body, his right one holding her waist while his left one caressed her thighs lightly.

The girl was talking about a situation she witnessed between a group of third-party friends, always keeping her boyfriend updated on the gossip.

What they didn't know was that Madi was recording their cute moment.

As Y/N spoke, Chris looked into her eyes intently, his gaze so full of love that Madi thought she could see hearts in the place of his pupils.

The brunette nodded from time to time, making it clear that he had his attention on her and understood everything she was saying, an almost imperceptible smile resting on the corner of his lips.

The two seemed to be surrounded by a bubble created just for them, the entire outside world completely forgotten.

That was their dynamic, and the triplets fandom loved it.

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[maiiuelle]

what if rafe and reader are more than friends but they didn’t really put a label on it and even top and kelce noticed but rafe still has the occasional hookup and one night when reader was js thinking abt stuff and then she realizes that shes inlove with rafe but when she came over to tannyhill to confess and rafe answered with his hair all messed up and him shirtless and he basically smelled like sex and when rafe asks why shes there she randomly just runs away and cries in her car while driving home so basically just angst (does that make sense idk)

you feel like your going crazy, standing at tannyhill’s front stoop twiddling your thumbs.

your relationship with rafe cameron is complicated; you’d almost call it a situationship, but you couldn’t put a label on it. you’d been going to all of his parties to serve as arm candy, posed with him at the golf course, and hooked up with him more than once. it’s beyond casual, but he has yet to pop the girlfriend question. even with his little commitment, you’d been finding it hard to keep your mind off of him — or rather, what the two of you had done together. you have to mean more to him than he’s letting on.

so, you knock on tannyhill’s giant glass front door again, biting your lip nervously as you look over the texts you’d already sent him to let him know you were coming.

“hey! just thinking ab u.. are u free tn? <3” you asked right after work, hopping in the shower in hopes you could head straight to his place after.

“busy. work shit. u free on friday?”

“oh idk. sucks we cant do tn, i miss u.” you followed your message with a picture of you sitting on your pink bedsheets, posing in the mirror to show off your silky pajamas. you thought he just needed a little convincing, but he didn’t respond.

“can u call me before bed? sorry, i know u said ur busy.”

by then it had been an hour or two, still no response from rafe. you were pacing around your room. all you wanted was to spend time with him, even if that meant lounging around while he works. anything would do, you just couldn’t stay away.

you came to the conclusion had to show him how much you care somehow, and what better way than to go to tannyhill and confess your love for him — it would be like a romance movie, he’d probably be exhausted from work and happy to see you by then!

“i’m sorry if this is sudden, i just feel like i really need to see you. i’ll just drop by for a second xoxo see u soon”

suddenly, the front door swings open, revealing a very disheveled rafe cameron. his bangs are a mess, sweaty and strewn across his forehead. his whole face is red, his lips swollen, and all he’s wearing are blue flannel pajama pants. you’d seen him like this before, pussy drunk and stumbling around a dark room. your heart deflates as he pushes open the front door, familiar blue eyes squinting at you through the night. “the fuck are you doing? you’re gonna wake up my fuckin’ dad.”

“work shit, huh? really, rafe?” you snap, looking him over completely disgusted. “what’re you d—”

“nah, nah. i told you i was busy — did i not?” he cuts you off, holding a finger in your face and grabbing your upper arm with the other hand, making you jump. “could’a kept yourself from all this if you just listened to me, right? right?” he jostles you, like he could shake a response out of you, but you’re frozen. he lets you go at the sight of your face, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “fuckin’ figures.”

“are you.. high?” you pull your knit cardigan tighter around your shoulders, tears already beginning to brim your waterline at the utter betrayal.

rafe recoils, acting overly offended to take the heat off his obvious cheating. “you’re gonna talk to me like that at my own goddamn house? do me a favor — go home, and i’ll think about callin’ you.”

“don’t bother. asshole.” you cry, turning away. the last glimmer of hope you have is snuffed out when you hear the glass door slam behind him, leaving you alone once again.

defeated, you retreat back to your car, wiping your tear stained cheeks pitifully. you should have known, rafe cameron is a player.

➺ do you…

⟡ hear out rafe’s apology

OR

⟡ tell jj what rafe did

[jjkamochoso]

Matchmaking Mina

Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Your kind-hearted captain has taken it upon herself to stoke the flames of love between you and Soshiro!

Warnings: none

Captain Mina Ashiro may act aloof, but she wasn’t blind. Anyone in the Third Division could see that you and Soshiro were the perfect match for each other. If neither of you were going to make the first move, it was only right that she, as your trusted leader, guided you in the right direction. Only, of course, after assessing the situation to make sure you two really did like one another.

*Click*

Her phone captured a snapshot of you at lunch one day, laughing at something Kafka had said. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were creased with joy—you looked positively radiant. Mina made her way to Soshiro’s office, eager to begin her investigation.

“Captain,” Soshiro saluted, “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

“Just stopping by. Checking on the status of your report from last week.”

“It’s almost done. I’ve been hard at work,” Soshiro grinned, sticking his pointer fingers out.

He’s in a pleasant mood. Let’s see if that changes.

“Good. I also came to show you a new picture of Bakko from the other day.”

It was a plausible excuse; Soshiro was a fan of cats as well and Mina was known for subjecting her friends and subordinates to monologues about how cute Bakko was. The vice captain was now standing by her side, peering over her shoulder at the phone in her hand.

“Here it is—oops! Wrong picture.”

Your picture was the one currently being displayed and from her peripheral vision, she saw Soshiro gulp ever so slightly, his eyes opened a bit wider. She was in no hurry, taking her time to slide her finger over the screen to the “correct” photo.

“Sorry about that. It was a cute photo, though, wasn’t it? Didn’t y/n look nice?”

“Huh? Yeah. I mean, sure,” he mumbled, the tips of his ears a rosy hue.

Now for the real test.

“I’d never seen her laugh so hard, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re around Kafka, right?”

There was an immediate shift of mood in the room, tension filling the open space like a dam had burst. Soshiro had gone from blushing to bloodthirsty in a millisecond and Mina was thankful she’d been blessed with a poker face or else she’d be bursting in laughter at his very apparent jealousy.

“If you’ll excuse me, Captain, I should finish this report.”

Soshiro saluted her again before sitting at his desk and Mina took her leave.

Well, that was informative.

Now she knew that Soshiro definitely harbored a crush for you and a hatred for Hibino. As she walked down the empty hallway, she let a small smile grace her lips.

She loved love.

Mina did the exact same experiment to you a few days later. As a fellow cat enthusiast, you were very excited at the prospect of seeing new Bakko content, quickly taking a seat next to your captain. This time around, she had managed to take an extremely flattering picture of Soshiro during training. He was standing outside, slightly flushed from the previous physical exertion, with one hand on his hip and the other pushing his hair out of his face.

Maybe if I ever retire I’ll become a photographer.

“…and there’s Bakko-oops. Not this.”

Your mouth was partially agape and she spied how you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the man on the screen. His tight fitting shirt hugged every curve of every muscle. His physique and pose were reminiscent of a model you’d see on a billboard in downtown Tokyo or on a runway in Paris.

“T-that’s a great picture you got of Vice Captain,” you breathed out in awe. “He looks so… hot.”

“If you’re into that sort of look, sure,” she answered.

“I definitely am,” you said dreamily, clearing your throat with embarrassment when you realized you said that out loud. “I mean, yeah. If someone was… hypothetically, like… into that sort of… thing.”

Mission 100% accomplished; they’re very much into each other.

Next up was the hard part of figuring out how to get confessions from the two of you without meddling too much. That’s why she was hoping today’s training, with you being partnered with Kafka, would be enough to stir up those same feelings and visceral reactions you both had while looking at the photos of each other not that long ago. So far, it was working splendidly. Kafka would say or do something ridiculous, causing you to howl with laughter and Soshiro to shoot Kafka a burning glare that could rival the intensity of a wildfire. Meanwhile, Soshiro would take his frustration out on the sparring training dummies, in turn leaving you dumbstruck at the way he moved so majestically and remained the most handsome man on earth, even in a state of sweaty exhaustion. When training was finally over, Mina couldn’t slow the buildup of anticipation deep inside her, eager to see the lovebirds admit their feelings, or at the very least, converse with each other. Neither of those things happened; you and Soshiro didn’t even exchange eye contact before going your separate ways.

Mina frowned. Didn’t she plant the seeds of attraction, water the foundations of a relationship, nurture the-

Looking back, I guess I didn’t do all that much.

“L/n.”

You turned around immediately at the sound of your captain’s voice, saluting as the dark haired woman approached you. You had just finished showering after a grueling day of exercise and were on your way to your room to get some much needed rest

“Come with me, please.”

“Right now?” you asked incredulously, eyes raking over the cat pajamas you were sporting. “Should I change into my uniform really quick?”

“No need,” she replied, “it’ll only be a moment:”

“Alright then.”

You were thoroughly confused but who were you to question your captain? You followed behind her dutifully, like a child following their mother to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk after a nightmare. Your eyebrows knit in confusion as she brought you into Soshiro’s office. He, too, had just showered, but he had changed into a fresh tracksuit, presumably because he never stopped working.

“Captain! What can I do for… you?” Soshiro faltered when he saw you peek out from behind Mina.

“I’m horribly underdressed for whatever’s happening. I sincerely apologize,” you said, bowing your head as to not meet his eyes. You weren’t that far below Soshiro’s rank, being a Platoon Leader, but you didn’t want your superior seeing you in such a state of disarray with your wet hair and casual attire in the office. Soshiro, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Y/n! I didn’t see you back there at first. I like your pajamas, cats are always a good choice.” His fanged smile brought you a sense of comfort,

“Thank you.”

You two would’ve gotten lost in each other’s eyes if it weren’t for Mina reminding you she was still there.

“Let me explain what’s going on. Y/n, Soshiro likes you. Soshiro, y/n likes you.”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop from across the base. You and Soshiro broke eye contact at breakneck speed, becoming self conscious and wary.

Mina was confused. Weird. Aren’t they supposed to kiss or something, like how it happens in books?

“I’ll leave you to it. Good night.”

Mina practically ran out of Soshiro’s office, getting hit with a whole slew of mixed emotions as she made her way to her own office. Was she wrong for getting involved in her subordinates’ love lives? Did she somehow misread the signals you both were giving off? Was her conclusion incorrect, leading her to be labeled a fool, unfit for a leadership position? She fretted all night thinking about the lack of response you and Soshiro had about the great news. The next morning, as she got ready, she thought of all the ways she could explain her behavior and hoped this situation wouldn’t lead to her getting fired (worst case scenario) or you and Soshiro feeling awkward around each other (bad case scenario). You two worked extremely well together, neutralizing kaiju with just glances and nods, no words needed, and she’d never forgive herself for ruining such a good team.

Mina fiddled with her jacket one last time before lifting her chin up and making the trek to her office to start the day. To her surprise, the door was ajar, you and Soshiro apparently waiting for her arrival.

Goodbye Third Division, hello HR…

“Captain,” you began, “Soshiro and I really appreciate what you were trying to do for us, but-”

“I overstepped my boundary,” she cut in. “I’m ashamed that I let my self control slip and I put my subordinates, the people in my care, in an uncomfortable position. I don’t know if I can ever regain your trust again, but I swear that I-”

“Captain.”

This time it was Soshiro who spoke out of turn. “My deepest apologies for interrupting you, but you don’t need to be sorry. Your intuition was correct—y/n and I do like each other.”

Mins could’ve cried tears of happiness hearing that, especially knowing that her job wasn’t at stake anymore, but her joy was turned to confusion when she noticed you and Soshiro share a glance, making a wordless agreement, and then both reaching into your shirts…?

She watched with curious eyes as a chain entered your grasp, previously hidden from view under your shirt, a small ring hanging down from it. Soshiro did the same, a matching ring gleaming under the fluorescent lights. It was then that the inquisitive, intelligent, intuitive captain made the connection—

“Soshiro and I are married,” you said, sheepishly glancing over at your husband. Now it was Mina’s turn to be deadly silent. However, you could tell she wasn’t upset, she was busy comprehending everything that was revealed to her.

“We didn’t tell anyone,” explained Soshiro, “because we didn’t want it to become an issue at work. In retrospect, we could’ve hidden it a bit better.”

He scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “Though Kafka doesn’t ever seem to get the hint.”

“But we know we can trust you with our lives and we should’ve at least told you. I’m sorry for lying to you, Captain Ashiro,” you said, your head hanging low.

That’s when you heard the strangest sound.

Captain Mina Ashiro… was laughing?

“This was an interesting turn of events,” she eventually said, catching her breath. “It turns out I was correct, but not in the way I thought.”

She strutted over to her desk, sitting down and starting the computer. “If that’s all you had to report, then you’re dismissed. It’s time to go to work.”

She looked up one last time, quirking an eyebrow. “Or are you on your honeymoon?”

[atlabeth]

geyser

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.

a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song

wc: 6.5k

warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs

also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on

Percy thought that his head might explode. 

He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 

At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.

All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 

“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 

“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 

“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 

Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 

“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 

“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 

“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 

Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”

Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 

But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 

The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 

His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.

There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 

Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”

That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 

“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”

“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 

“She did.” 

He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 

“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 

“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 

Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 

Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 

“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”

Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”

“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”

Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 

“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”

An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 

Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 

He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 

Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 

…Gods. 

Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 

-

“Luke—” 

“No!” 

“Luke, please!” 

“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 

“She won’t know!” 

“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 

Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 

“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 

“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 

“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 

“If you say a single word—” 

“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 

“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 

“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 

“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 

“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”

“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 

“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 

“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 

To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 

“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 

Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 

You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 

Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 

Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 

Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.

But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 

Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 

Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 

“Never better.” 

-

“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 

Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 

“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 

Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 

He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 

He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 

Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 

He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 

“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  

Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 

“I’m curious,” he decided. 

Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…

Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 

“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 

“And how it killed the cat?” 

He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 

“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 

Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 

“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Who’s her parent?” 

Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 

“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 

Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 

He had a sister? 

“I have a sister?” 

“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 

A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 

He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 

Gods. 

“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 

Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 

One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 

“How did you meet her?” 

“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”

Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 

“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 

Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 

Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  

“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  

Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 

“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 

The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 

Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 

Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 

-

Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 

He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 

“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 

“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 

Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 

“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 

“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 

Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 

“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  

Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 

“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 

Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  

Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 

He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 

“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 

“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 

Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 

Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 

Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 

Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.

“A happier part, then,” he suggested.

“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 

In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 

A letter. 

“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 

Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 

So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 

To the one and only Luke Castellan, 

My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.

I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 

Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 

But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 

Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 

I can’t wait to see you again.

Your hurricane.  

It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 

Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 

“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 

Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 

“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 

“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”

Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 

I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 

“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”

Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 

He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 

Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 

“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 

Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 

“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 

He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 

“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 

-

After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 

Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 

Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 

“You’re awake,” she said. 

“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 

“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 

“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 

They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 

“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 

“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 

“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 

Annabeth went silent. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 

“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 

“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 

Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 

That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 

“How did you meet her?” he asked. 

Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”

-

For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 

It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.

The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 

She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 

But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 

Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 

Where was Thalia? 

Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 

Thalia— 

“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 

“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 

Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 

“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 

Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?

You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 

“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 

“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 

“Annabeth!” 

Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 

“Luke, you’re hurt—” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 

“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 

Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 

When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 

“Luke?” you whispered. 

Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 

“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 

“My friends—” 

“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 

Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 

So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 

She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 

The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 

-

You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  

You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 

Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.

You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.

A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 

“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 

Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 

“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 

You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 

Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”

You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 

He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 

“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 

“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 

“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 

“The usual,” you mumbled. 

“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 

You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 

“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 

“Bullseye.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 

“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 

“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you murmured. 

You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 

That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 

“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 

“Just like old times,” you whispered. 

“Just like old times,” he agreed. 

Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 

There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 

How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 

Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 

“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 

And by the gods, you believed him. 

[ashfae]

The thing about romance is, it makes a good story.

As soon as Neil described season 2 as "quiet, gentle, romantic" I figured we'd be in for it, because as he's the first to point out, writers are liars. And the best way to deceive is with truth.

Season 2 is romantic. The trappings of romance are everywhere. Crowley tries to set up Nina and Maggie by trapping them under an awning during a rainstorm, a classic cinematic bonding technique. Aziraphale's chosen method comes from his beloved books: the ball, the dancing, appearing as a pair in public, hands held as you twirl gracefully with your heart thrilled and racing. If they can set up a sensational kiss that will unlock the happy ever after. They've lived on earth, they've studied the tropes, they know how romance works.

The problem is a story is only a story.

Nina and Maggie had the classic romantic setup completely by accident before Aziraphale and Crowley ever began trying to interfere with them. They get locked in Nina's coffeeshop. They can't escape or communicate with anyone else, they end up talking by candlelight because there's no electricity, Nina offers wine. Maggie mentions how she'd hoped for a chance to talk to Nina, and now here they are. It's every bit as much a standard as what Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to arrange. Blanket scenarios galore exist because of that starting point. We love that story. And there's nothing wrong with that.

But it's still only a story, it's not enough. Because once that moment of connection is over, however lovely it was, all the rest of the world comes flooding back in in the form of dozens of angry text messages. Nina's messy entrapping relationship hasn't magically gone away just because she and Maggie shared a romantic encounter.

And it's so tempting think oh well, that's easy. We'll just give them more romantic encounters and eventually those will overwhelm the rest of the baggage. Must do, because it'll make them fall in love, and once they realize they're in love that trumps all other considerations, right? So it'll be fine. Love Conquers All.

Neil also mentioned Pride and Prejudice.

Darcy knows he's in love early on and makes a disasterous proposal that shows that he has no understanding of Elizabeth's perspective, possibly hasn't even thought about it. They've been meeting in forest lanes for walks, conversing, had tete-a-tetes in the sitting room, danced at a ball. And while his turn of phrase isn't as flattering as he thinks, he's still offering her everything he thinks she wants and needs: affection, security, his good name, wealth, an escape from the embarrassments of her situation, the world. How can there be anything to object to? Why would anyone ever refuse so much of value?

Elizabeth quite rightly cuts him to pieces. He lashes back with a few hard truths of his own and they separate. During that separation, he thinks and he learns. He takes to heart the criticisms she offered, re-examines his assumptions, opens his eyes. Thinks about her perspective and how sometimes the only difference between pride and arrogance is where you're standing. He does the work. When they meet again he tries to demonstrate that he's learned--not in order to court her again (yet), but because the only real apology he can offer, the only one that would have weight, is to show that he's grown, he listened to her. He changed.

Elizabeth of course has her own journey, accepting that many of her own conclusions about Darcy were erroneous because they were formed without her having the full picture to hand, and once she's done that she has to apply it to her own situation as well. She loves her family, but they do place her at a disadvantage on a number of levels, leading eventually to full-out disaster as her younger sister carelessly ruins all of their reputations. It's hard to admit, it's mortifying, but Darcy was offering her a great deal she needs. His offer did have worth for all that she dismissed it as an insult. And as she learns to value his own character more highly, and then as she sees that he did listen to her even though she insulted him so thoroughly...well, she grows too. And when they do eventually come together it's not because of courting and balls. There's a big romantic gesture in his rescue of her sister but even that isn't why they'll get their happy ever after. It was just the catalyst for the conversation. They win because they've learned how to understand each other and how to communicate for the future. How they can strengthen and support each other, how to balance their strengths and weaknesses. The films leave them at the wedding, but the book shows a bit of their marriage too, and during it they keep learning from each other. Their relationship is held up as a superior love story for good reasons.

The end of season one was romantic too. Crowley stopped time rather than face a world where Aziraphale would never speak to him again, Aziraphale walked into hell to protect Crowley, they dined at the Ritz and toasted the world. But then they stopped. Sure they spent time together, talked, enjoyed each other's company. But if they were talking about important things would Crowley still be living in his car? They had a bit of respite but all that real world baggage that exists outside of the romantic moment hasn't been faced, none of it. Four or five years sounds like a long while but for beings who are quite literally older than the earth? That's just an intermission.

Nina's relationship ends, leaving her with a tangled mess; Maggie realises the sweet dream of love she's been longing for isn't as important as the real Nina. They talk. They plan. Nina will sort through her life, get closure, figure out what went wrong with Lindsay and what she wants from a relationship, learn how to ask for respect instead of just bending under her partner's demands. Maggie will support Nina the way Nina needs, which sometimes means helping her get oat milk for the shop and sometimes means giving her processing space. They're on the same page; they're going to do the work. That's why most likely they'll succeed. To quote one of my favourite fanfics: it's not happily ever after, but it's a chance. It's all going to be okay. (The Profane Comedy by Mussimm, who absolutely nailed this theme)

The romance is nice, it's lovely. We need it to keep ourselves going. To give ourselves the dreams that help us get through the days and nights. But it's not the relationship. It's not enough on its own. The wedding can be the grandest most beautiful ceremony ever with doves flying and sweeping music and bells ringing, but that doesn't guarantee the marriage will last.

Crowley and Aziraphale have had their romantic gestures, oodles of them. One wing raised to protect the other from falling stars, another from rain. Shared ground, shared interests, hands offered in friendship and held on a bus. They've tried to get to the same page, they really have. They just aren't there yet. The biggest most important things still haven't been talked about, and season 2 showed there are even more of those big important things than we'd realised.

The show paints Maggie as Aziraphale's foil and Nina as Crowley's, even to the point of Nina casually calling Maggie 'angel'. But Aziraphale's baggage is Nina's. The toxic relationship has to be processed and understood and closed, and it hasn't been, despite season one. Lindsay never really liked Nina very much, for all that they tried to keep her trapped; Heaven never really liked Aziraphale very much for all that he believed in it. They both let themselves be used. But Lindsay left Nina and went to their sister's, whereas now the head of Heaven has reached out to Aziraphale and said here, we can fix this, you can fix this, don't you want to fix this? Others are already writing about that and maybe I'll add to it later, not sure. And Crowley, like Maggie, has had a sweet dream that he has to set aside. Maybe he'll be able to pick it up again eventually, maybe not. But sometimes you offer support by buying oat milk or rescuing your beloved from the legions of hell, and sometimes you do it by standing back while they sort through their shit.

Quiet, gentle, romantic. It was.

But that's only part of the story. Now they have to do the work. They thought they had, but they were wrong, because there's so much they just hadn't touched yet and tried to cover over with relief and sleight of hand and alcohol and forgiveness. The apology dance doesn't mean much without showing that you listened and learned. They've faced so much trauma already and that should have been enough, we wanted it to be enough and so did they and it's such a blow for it to turn out that there's still more to do, that the baggage hasn't just gone away and can't be hidden under blankets or soothed with cocoa. The texts are still coming in and demanding answers.

But it'll be okay. It will. It's still a chance. And one that in the long run makes them better, builds something real that lasts.

The best stories, the ones that last longest and become classics, are the ones that don't end with the kiss under the awning or the blanket scenario or the wedding. They're the ones that heal us while the characters heal themselves. It's hard to accept that there's still more to do. Harder to imagine how it can possibly work out. And yes, bloody frustrating to wait and see.

And we'll get through that interim by telling even more stories. Because the story is never just a story. It's how we get through the work, it's what we tell ourselves so we can do the damn work. Stories are what we cling to and how we remind ourselves we're human and connect. A book is a person you can carry with you. We're not alone, none of us, stories connect us because we love them and see ourselves in them, which means we see each other.

Aziraphale's back up in Heaven to deal with his unfinished baggage; Crowley left his behind long ago and it's clearly going to come back and bite him in the arse however much he tries to go his own way. And they can't help each other with that. Not yet.

But they'll get there. So will we.

[rbfclassy]

GIRLS ON FILM! — CHOSO KAMO

photographer!choso who just graduated university, broke and has no money. He starts applying to any jobs that are hiring, in dire need for money. He hopes to put his photography skills to use as it was something he studied in school. After two weeks of waiting for any places to call him, he gets a gig at a small photography studio in Tokyo. He immediately takes the job, smile on his face as he walks in with his camera in hand. They didn’t even interview or ask to look at his portfolio, they instantly put him on set, directing him around and giving him orders. He thought nothing of it until he saw you walk out onto the set, covered in silk robe, makeup and hair done. You quite literally took his breath away when you undid the robe, letting it fall to the floor, revealing your nude body.

The place that had hired him was nude photography studio. He couldn’t think straight, eyes glued to you as they ordered you how to pose, putting you in lewd positions that only made choso imagine how’d you look with his cock stuffed in you. He blinks his thoughts away, blush spreading across his cheeks as he averts his gaze from you. He raises his camera, angling it just right as he captures you in your most divine. Half lidded eyes staring back at him as your hands cup your tits. He snaps several photos, gulping when you change positions and arch your back, ass high in the hair. He starts to feel hot, his dick straining against his jeans as he struggles to breathe correctly. God, you were beautiful.

The entire photo shoot he never took his eyes off of you, following your figure when you walked off set in your robe. He clenched his jaw, encapsulated by your essence. It almost felt like it was just you and him in the room every time he snapped a photo of you. “You have the photos?” One the of the editors asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Choso fumbled with his camera, nearly dropping it as he pulled out the sd card. Just as the editor was about to walk away, Choso asked, “who is that?”

“You mean y/n?” The editor furrowed her brows. “She’s an upcoming model.” They turned back around, walking away with the sd card. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl. He looked down at his camera, licking his lips.

Choso went back home that night, his thought plagued with images of you. “Shit,” he groaned, noticing the hard on in his sweats. He palmed his cock, clenching his eyes shut to try and get rid of these disgusting fantasies he had, but it only made him see you again. Bending you over and plowing into you until you cry, or ruining your makeup as he fucks your face, taking a picture of you after for memories. Snapping a photo while you ride his cock, tits bouncing in his face. He wonders how you feel and taste. How could he crave something he’s never had?

Next thing he knows, his fist is pumping his cock, moans falling past his plump limps as his eyes flutter shut. He imagines your wet cunt squeezing around him, milking him for what he’s worth. “Y/n, y/n, y/n,” he babbles, biting down on his bottom lip as he tries to suppress his moans. His breath gets caught his throat as his abs tenses up, feeling how close he was to cumming. “Mmmm, fuck,” he moans. His wrist moves in circular motions, from the base to the tip as he squeezes a little harder. As he pictures his cum filling you up, dripping from your pussy, his entire body quivers as spurts of thick cum shoot from his head, landing on his hand and stomach. “Nnnngh—shit!” He can’t stop moving his hand, tossing his back onto the pillow in pure ecstasy. “Fuck me, baby, please!” Oh how he wishes you could hear how desperate he was for you.

[homunculus-argument]

This is one of those ideas that someone's probably already done, but I came up with another concept for a game:

A game where most of the cutscenes are flashbacks of memories the protagonist has, and the "skip cutscene" button says "repress this memory". You can play through the whole game while skipping all of the cutscenes, you don't need to watch any of them to complete the main storyline and get the main intended ending.

But watching through them doesn't just give you a more thorough - and occasionally, even completely different - understanding of the whole game, and information that makes you see certain characters in a different light, but it unocks new options in the game. You watch through the cutscene flashback of the protagonist's mother doing something fucked up, and suddenly all your conversations with her now have the dialogue option to go "hey mom remember when [the fucked up thing] happened?"

This particular conversation branch doesn't seem to lead anywhere, she'll flat-out deny that the thing ever happened, and she calls you crazy for having ever imagined that, but later on you can stumble upon something else that you clearly saw in the flashback, that you couldn't have found out any other way. It's one thing to wonder why you would remember something that never happened, but how would you have known that this passageway was here, and opens exactly the same way you remembered it?

There are passages in the game that aren't required for the completion of the main storyline, that aren't blocked off by anything visible and obvious, but have text like "you cannot go through this way, this hallway is too noisy", and it takes a completely unrelated flashback for you to recognise what that specific sound reminds you of, which opens up a whole sidequest of you figuring out why you can't stand hearing that noise. Once you've made the connections and finally remember, you can go through the hallway. There's nothing on the other side that you need for the main quest, but things that may help unlock some other mysteries.

The main game is simple and straightforward, you can just play through that one and be done with it. But that's not the whole picture, the full story. There are answers peppered thorough the whole game, answers to questions you might not even think of to ask. Explanations of why the protagonist is the way they are, and things that make you see characters you interact with - and your interactions with them - in a completely different light. Most of the relevations are grim. The only question to ask yourself is

Do you want to remember?