#if anyone was wondering about the context behind this

[theliterarywolf]

If you're going to come onto one of my posts to go off about 'people who are against AI are just like the people who were against the printing press and photography', please point me in the direction of your high school teachers because they obviously did not teach you the fallacy of arguing Apples to Oranges.

The upper-classes were against printing presses because they were trying to gatekeep knowledge, particularly Theological knowledge, against the working class. That's also the reason why most Christian texts were written in Latin.

That is completely different from things like ChatGPT scraping TeachersPayTeachers to create 'lesson plans' or stealing from fanfiction and indie-published writing to churn out AI-written 'novels'.

Those who were originally against photography thought it was trying replace painters due to them not understanding that plenty of schooling and training goes into mastering lighting, angle, tone, aperture, temperature, lenses, modeling, subject-study, composition, editing, and more. That is not the same as being upset at the people behind Midjourney et al admitting that their algorithms (because, let's face it, for as much as the public has latched onto calling these programs 'Artificial Intelligence', they're closer to 'Algorithmic Intuition') use 'publicly available images'.

I.e.: Anything that's been posted online, creators' rights be damned.

Don't try to sing me a song of sixpence. You do not have enough rye in your pockets to do so.

[kismetmoon]

Irene goodnight, Irene goodnight. Goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene, I’ll see you in my dreams

[ID: a digital drawing of an original, stylised Flatland character named Irene Huntsworth.

Irene is a humanoid character with light grey skin that fades to black on her fingertips and darker grey on the edges of her head and feet, a large single eye in the centre of her head with four upper lashes, hair-like protrusions from the side of her head, a sharp point on top of her head and a thin tail with a three-pointed end.

She is wearing a victorian-style outfit with a white pelerine, a white blouse with puffy sleeves that narrow into fitted sleeves and a dark grey long skirt. She also has a black necklace with an isosceles triangle charm and two fake pearl earrings.

She is standing slightly stooped over with one hand in front of her skirt and the other pointing downwards in an unsure expression. She is looking at the ground and frowning, with sweat beads beside her head to indicate stress. There is a triangular speech bubble next to her with two question marks in it.

The background is an creamy olive colour with a pale-ish orange isosceles triangle behind Irene.

End ID.]

-Irene Huntsworth: Elizabeth and Atlas’s ma. She’s a lot more like her daughter than she’s willing to admit (and more like her granddaughter that she doesn’t know about yet). Feisty, protective and stubborn - and things WILL be done her way or no way. She spends her days with her two youngest sons, chatting with her friends in their neighbourhood and tending to their family home. Although she’s often found nagging at her children to get chores done, she’s eternally loving and caring to them all. She won’t let anything happen to any of them, regardless of the cost.

[webslingingslasher]

ok but what if some girl would be saying that she slept with frat!peter after some party (where he was with trouble) and stuff like "oh yeah he had me calling him daddy and he's totally not a boob guy" and trouble overhears her and goes to peter with "you would not believe what i have just heard" and joking that maybe she has magic tits or something

you weren't listening.

minding your own business, pouring liquor into plastic cups, and cracking a can of sprite for a mixer; a group of friends crowded behind you. not listening, but certain words poked out more than others.

"he's fucking jacked by the way, it's like when i hooked up with parker."

your blood ran cold, frozen in place you were straining your hearing for each word to follow, if she didn't add more context you'd be shaking peter by his shirt.

a friend gasps, "you did? when?"

oh, not old news?

yeah, when did she?

flashing your eyes to peter, he's talking to someone and not paying attention. you'll kill him.

"like, around the start of the school year?"

oh thank god, he's in the clear.

"okay, well... spill!"

you can't walk away, your feet are glued to the vinyl floor. maybe, you just want to know if peter's telling the truth when he says you're different than the rest.

"ass man all the way, insisted on doggy. big dick, strong game, threw me around a little, had me calling him daddy and everything. not very affectionate though, i don't think he kissed me, actually. and not a lick of a cuddle after, threw my dress at me and said 'need an uber?' but, hey, i'd still do it again."

another friend cackles, "too bad, nate begged him to do a double date and parker immediately shut it down and said, and i quote, 'no. i have a girlfriend. she doesn't want me dating other girls.' kinda sweet if you ask me."

your heart soars, this is the first time he's ever referred to you as his girlfriend. not that you were, at least not officially, but it's easier to explain than what you actually were, and you had no idea what you were. you assume he doesn't either.

their conversation falls into something else, making you feel confident in moving away from the counter with a full cup in each hand, walking straight to the most interesting man of the night.

peter perking up instantly, leaving his friend with a fist bump, meeting you halfway.

"hi trouble, i missed you." a warm kiss placed on your cheek, you can't help the grin while handing him his drink, "hi handsome, i got a question..." you trail your words off and shift your back against his chest so he'd have a clear view of who you're pointing at.

"see that group of friends, do you know anyone there?"

he barely gives them a look over, one harm slung over your waist, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, "no, don't think so."

nudging him, "no, really. look." a sigh, "looking, no one looks familiar." the back of your head hits his chest, "peter, c'mon. please don't tell me you're one of those guys."

"i don't know what you mean! are you testing me or something?"

turning in his hold, a small pout hangs. "you hooked up with one of them. tell me which one and you earn two brownie points."

that changes things, because now peter knows what the mission is and how to identify previous suitors. mind ticking and eyes running over each body in a different way. watching him analyze is interesting. You wonder what he looks for in a hookup.

"the one in the middle. i'm sure of it, but i can't remember her name. I think it started with an 's' or 'v' maybe 'l'?"

"It's whitney," peter cheers his cup on your shoulder, "oh yeah, that's right."

you spin in his grasp, "liar. i made that up." peter pulls you closer, "you're just so convincing, trouble. call me gullible."

humming, you press a kiss to his chin, "she was talking about you, wanna hear?"

"this feels like a trap, i don't like this idea."

"oh, you should. i heard all about you in bed, and how you told nate i was your girlfriend." peter shakes his head, "i think you've been hitting the sauce hard tonight and you're making things up."

shaking your head like a toddler, "nope, i heard the truth about daddy." peter's head is thrown back with a groan, "alright, wow, we're really doing this. what else did you hear?"

"that you're an ass man, and," you sway on your feet and pretend to twirl a stand of hair, a nasally sarcastic tone rips, "you're like so, super fucking jacked. like, seriously so sexy. ugh! with a big dick too!"

peter presses a kiss to your cheek, "thank you for the compliments, baby." another kiss, the corner of your mouth, "even if you're sarcastic." a delicate kiss to your lips, "and a little wrong."

"which part was wrong? she's right, you've got a fucking wrench."

your cup is pulled from your hand, "alright, it's done. we're done."

a whine, "no! c'mon, please, daddy?"

"i'll silence you and you won't like it."

"will it be with your monster coc-"

a hand is slapped over your mouth, "i'll kill you, and won't have a problem with it."

[delusional-day-dreamer]

First. Love. Part² - p.b

playlist!

prev. next part

‣ paige bueckers x oc

‣ wc: 12079 (this took me way too long but I got carried away...)

‣‣ synopsis: background on paige and jenna's relationship, how they met, fell in love, and how paige ended up becoming jenna's first heartbreak and eternal muse.

‣‣‣ a/n: So High School Part 2 will be out soon (i have no idea where to take the plot in that series 😔), this is sort of a filler chapter in between the podcast episode in part 3 to give context. EDIT: I changed Jenna's major to be Business Economics with a minor in Film, Television, and Digital Media because it's more relevant for the later plot!

June 30th, 2016 (summer before freshman year; 14 years old)

Jenna's POV:

You didn't know how much more of this stupid city you could handle. You had just locked your front door behind you as you left to go to the pool inside your new neighborhood, excited to read a book you had bought the other day while sunbathing on a lounge chair.

Your parents had just uprooted your life and moved you from San Diego, California, land of sunshine, beaches, and only a small amount of criminal activity, to middle of nowhere Hopkins, Minnesota, right before you started high school with all of your old friends.

Of course you understood that this was for the better of your family, both of your parents had gotten new jobs at a huge hospital with far better pay than their previous ones, they found a beautiful house in a nice neighborhood close to what was going to be your new school, and living in your dad's hometown meant being close to his family.

However, none of these facts soothed the bitter taste in your mouth that formed at the thought of having to be the new kid, having no friends to hang out with for the rest of summer or to start school off with, no job or classes to distract your never-ending train of thoughts, and you didn't even have a sibling to act as your built in friend.

Regardless, you tried your best to adjust to your new, albeit lonely, life by distracting yourself as much as possible. Your parents had re-enrolled you in music lessons the same week you finished moving into your house, gave you an allowance to buy new clothes and hang out at the local mall, as you very quickly realized your Californian wardrobe would not fit the Minnesota weather, despite it being summertime (although you hadn't gone yet as you hated shopping alone), and you had even been going to the pool frequently with the hopes of meeting kids close to your age.

And it just so happened that today, your prayers had been answered. As you were walking down the street, the door to a house you had just crossed by across the street had barely opened before a small boy barrels out, closely followed by a taller, blonde girl who appeared to be around your age, locking the door behind the two of them. You weren't able to put a finger on it, but there was simply something about the girl that was mesmerizing, just a quick glance at her had you wanting to know more.

You had always known you liked girls to some extent, you always found yourself gazing at the t.v. in wonder at the beautiful girls displayed upon the screen. However, it wasn't until probably a hundred, "Am I Gay?" internet quizzes later in seventh grade you recognized the fact that you were queer and were in fact attracted to girls, you just didn't bother telling anyone about this revelation.

In particular, the girl in front of you invoked millions of questions that raced through your mind: who was she, was she your age, was she going to the same high school as you, and most importantly, why was she so pretty? Her blonde hair cascaded down her back with a slight wave to them, her white oversized t-shirt and black basketball shorts draped over her tall frame, and her voice that rang out as she scolded the little boy who ran in front of her to the end of their walkway.

God, her voice was the most intoxicating thing you had ever heard, luring you into her like a siren's song to the depths of the ocean. You swore you were floating at the twinkling sound of her laughter echoing around the block as she joked with, who you head her refer to as, her little brother.

You snapped out of your stunned daze and continued walking forward as she followed her little brother onto the main sidewalk, now almost parallel with your frame. You were mentally counting your blessings that she hadn't looked up enough to see your stalker-esque figure staring at her, although you were praying that she happened to be going to the pool as well (definitely not so you could look at her some more).

Truly, God had decided to pay special attention to you today, as your blonde neighbor grabbed her little brother's hand as she crossed the street, making her way towards you. You couldn't help but glance at her as she approached you, and you were taken aback by the shockingly blue eyes that met yours. You gave her a tight-lipped smile as she stepped up to the sidewalk just behind you, hoping your internal panic wasn't apparent on your face as you faced forward once again.

Your focus on taking deep breaths in and out to not embarrass yourself in front of the first person your age you've even made eye contact with in the last month is interrupted by the little boy running past you, gently bumping into your leg as he brushes past you. His short legs are working overtime to maintain a pace faster than both you and the pretty stranger, who had now jogged up next to you to keep close to her brother.

"Drew the pool isn't gonna run away by the time we get there, you gotta slow down buddy," She called out to the curly-headed child, turning her head to peer slightly down at you.

"Sorry about him, he gets really ahead of himself sometimes," She apologized on his behalf, her eyes scanning over your face. Before giving you a chance to reply, she continued on. "Are you new to the neighborhood? I don't think I've ever seen you around?" She questions, your heart slightly speeding up at the undivided attention she was paying to your face.

"No yeah I am, I just moved here from California," you replied, tucking your hands into the pockets of your shorts to avoid any nervous flailing.

"No way, that's so cool, I've always wanted to visit. Did you live next to the beaches? One of my old friends went there for vacation and she loved it, like she wouldn't shut up about how nice it is over there. I think she went somewhere close to LA. Wait are you going to the pool too?" Her outgoing demeanor surprised you. You had only seen her for the first time a minute ago, and she was already carrying you into a conversation about your old life.

"Yeah I did and I am, I lived in San Diego so the beaches there were really nice compared to the northern part. I miss being able to go there all the time, so I guess for now the pool will just have to do," you joked back, and your heart fluttered at the smile that broke out on her face.

It had appeared that you made your first friend in Hopkins, Minnesota, and unbeknownst to you, she would quickly become your first ever best friend. Then your first girlfriend, your first love, and then slowly, your first and last heartbreak.

April 4th, 2017 (spring break, freshman year; 15 years old)

Paige's POV:

"Dude there's no way you think pancakes are supposed to be better than waffles, they're so boring," I protested on my bed next to Jenna, rolling onto my stomach towards her and propping up my elbows so I could look at her. Jenna had somehow become my best friend within the span of two months during summer, and although I was unsure of when and how her presence became so prominent in my life in such a quick span of time, I was nothing but grateful.

We had started high school together and even had a class together everyday, which was a saving grace for both of us. She came to every single one of my home games this season, even some of the closer away games. She made it to more of my games that any person in my family did, which surprised me, but she just was always there for me somehow.

I was never the best at making friends outside of basketball, the sport was my comfort zone and it was always so much easier to relate to my teammates who felt the same. Yet, me and Jenna just clicked, despite our many differences. Hanging out with her quenches a thirst within me I didn't know I had. A thirst to be seen, to be heard and known, a desire for someone to see me past all my future athletic potential and to just see me, and without fail, she did that for me. Every. Time.

One of the things we discovered early into our friendship, the first time she came over to my house to hang out, were our matching initials. PB and JS, which we affectionately coined to be our nicknames, Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich (pretend pazzi does not own this nickname). Jenna always says that our matching initials are a sign from above, a sign that we're meant to stick by the other's side. We even bought matching necklaces with our initials over winter break as a mutual Christmas present, mine was silver and hers was gold.

Our parents loved the nickname as well, joking that it's the reason they can never separate us, as you just can't have one without the other. Our families somehow became intertwined over the course of our friendship as well, trading in between carpool duties, spending long weekends and the occasional holiday together, and even coming to cheer me on at my basketball games or watching Jenna's dance recitals from the class she took instead of P.E. We all even went out to eat together to celebrate me and Jenna's small freshmen year milestones, like our birthdays.

Hers was a bit before mine, September 21st, 2001, which made her just slightly older than me. Apparently according to the Minnesota school laws or whatever, Jenna is supposed to be in the grade above, but California has different age cutoffs so she's one of the oldest people in our grade.

She confessed to me before school started that she was nervous about being the eldest out of everyone, but I reassured her by saying that it just meant she could drive the two of us around and do a bunch of other things before everyone else could. That really helped.

She even let me into her secret world of music, I knew she took classes but until she played and sang for me, I didn't realize just how good she was. She was fairly shy when it came to her talent, and almost never played in front of people she wasn't comfortable with, which is why it felt like an honor when she played a song on the piano or guitar for me, or sang for or with me, whether it was playing from the radio or something small she wrote.

But the thing that really brought us closer together was when Jenna's parents had to go out of town from time to time for their medical conferences, which left her home alone. When she was younger, she always used to go with them, as missing school wasn't that big of a deal. But now, she ended up refusing, insisting that she would be alright home alone.

This didn't fly with either of our families, and our parents eventually came to the conclusion that Jenna could just stay over at our house when needed. It wasn't like me and Jenna didn't have sleepovers all the time anyways, and both me and Drew loved having her over. She even met my Mom and my two other little siblings, Ryan and Lauren. The three of them immediately took to her the way I did, entranced by her presence. She loved hanging out with them too, since she was an only child.

There was something about Jenna that somehow attracted people to her. Maybe it was her welcoming presence, the way she made you feel like the most important person in the world with the way she looked at you, or perhaps it was something appealing about her appearance. The small makeup she put on and the way she spent extra time styling her hair was always unnecessary in my opinion, I always thought she was the prettiest person in our grade.

Sometimes I wondered if the two of us were truly best friends. I know friends hang out a bunch like we do, they don't mind changing in the same room or even in front of each other, and they definitely feel comfortable enough to cuddle together in bed or while watching a movie. Right?

But sometimes I swear there's a weird fluttering in my stomach when Jenna's bare legs drape over mine on the couch, or sometimes my heart skips a beat when we're getting ready for bed and she just pauses while changing her shirt, intent on continuing our conversation even while standing in just her bra.

But it's okay for friends to do that right? I mean, I've only ever had crushes or thought boys were attractive, so everything I'm feeling is probably just from the fact that I've never had a best friend like Jenna. Sure, I've had a bunch of friends and teammates I'm really close to, but me and Jenna spend all of our time together, and there's almost nothing we wouldn't do together. Sometimes, we just take turns showering while the other person stays in the bathroom just so we can keep talking.

Which led the two of us up to now, spending spring break sprawled out on my bed at 9pm, arguing about whether waffles or pancakes were better. We never had any real arguments, but with me and Jenna both being super competitive and never wanting to be wrong, we always had long discussions "fighting" about meaningless topics.

"Pancakes are so much smoother and like, enjoyable to eat compared to waffles, plus waffles end up crispy at the edges and they just end up tasting weird," She insisted, adjusting herself from her back to her side so she could argue with me face to face.

Her hair fell over her shoulder when she moved, leaving her shoulder exposed as her, no, my sweatshirt had slightly slouched down as it was big on her. Jenna wasn't exactly short, she was around 5'5, it's just that I happened to be even taller.

"Girls, come down for dinner please," my step-mom yelled from downstairs before I could even snap out of my distracted state to argue back.

"Coming Mrs. Bueckers," Jenna took the initiative to yell back slightly when I didn't respond in time, still in shock as to why I ended up staring at my best friend, distracted by her bare shoulder in my clothes. Me and Jenna always shared clothes, we even kept clothing and toiletry spares in each others rooms for spontaneous sleepovers. So why was her wearing my sweatshirt, in my bed, so different this time?

Whatever the reason was, I didn't have time to even think it over before Jenna got up from next to me, grabbing my hands with hers so she could yank me up as well, complaining that she was hungry. She kept our hands interlocked as we left my room, walking down the stairs hurridley. It was a miracle she didn't notice that for some reason, her soft, warm hands in mine had left a barely noticeable blush on my cheeks.

October 28th, 2017 (sophomore year; 16 years old)

Jenna's POV:

"Come on J hurry up, it's just a stupid party," Paige walked into your bathroom as you were almost finished curling your hair. "I'm on my last section P chill, I'll be done in a minute," you reassured her reflection. The two of you were invited to a Halloween party, but apparently you weren't supposed to dress up since technically it's not Halloween yet? (skinny jeans were the shit in 2017 but I can't bring myself to write that that's what they're wearing 😔)

You were both confused about it but the junior who invited you guys, Alexa, was one of your friends from math class. You were sat together on the first day and despite both of you struggling here and there, you often got the concepts a little bit quicker than her, so you always helped her when possible. And in return, she got the two of you an invite, well technically she invited you but everyone knows you and Paige are a package deal, to one of the biggest house parties of the school year.

It was also going to be the first party you were ever going to, and you both agreed to not go overboard on the drinks, since your aunt cristina, who was visiting, was going to pick and drop you in her car. Your mom's sister couldn't have chosen a better time to come visit, as both of your parents were working the night shift tonight and Paige's parents allowed her to sleepover at your house since your aunt was supposed to "supervise".

"See, I'm ready, let's go," you told Paige as you finished your hair with a thin layer of hairspray, moving past her into your room to grab your phone and keys. Your parents had gotten you a used Ford F-150 truck (so gay) so it would be easier for you to drive to school, with Paige of course, since they both started working longer hours now that you were old enough to take care of yourself and so that they could retire earlier.

You both made your way downstairs to your Aunt Cristina on the couch, watching tv while waiting for you to finish getting ready. "Ready to hit the road girls?" She got up to turn off the tv and grab her things from around the living room.

"Yup, thank you again for taking us, and for not telling our parents," Paige responded on your behalf as well. It was typical of adults to love Paige, she was always the most respectful and responsible kid in their eyes, even when thanking your aunt for driving you to a party so you could drink responsibly.

"No problem, I'd rather you girls be safe while having fun, no point in sneaking out if I'm here for you," She joked as you moved to get in her car, and within ten minutes, the three of you were pulled up outside the address Alexa had given you.

"Now please just remember to be safe, have fun, drink responsibly, don't leave your drinks unattended, don't try drinks from random people, keep your phone on you, don't leave each other's side," Your aunt was rambling off safety rules to the two of you in the backseat. You thought it was ironic she had to mention for you to stay together as if you ever left each other's side anyways.

"Yes Auntie C of course," You promised her as you moved to open the car door, "We'll be safe and I'll text you, love you, thanks, bye!" You closed the door the second Paige climbed out from the backseat, eager to walk into the house you could hear music blaring out of.

Before you knew it, the two of you were sitting pressed up together on a couch in a crowded living room, two red solo cups in hand with sprite and vodka. You and Paige were tipsy from the past two hours of drinking, a warm fuzziness settled into our brains, making the circle of people around us funnier than they probably were.

"No you know what we should play, seven minutes in heaven!" A drunk junior called out mid-conversation. You weren't really absorbing anything that was being said around you until that, and the loud cheers that erupted from the living room at the suggestion.

"Everybody gather around in a circle on the floor, whoever spins it has to go in the guest bedroom with the person it lands on for seven minutes," Alexa called out to everyone as she reached for an empty beer bottle behind her, before moving to sit on the floor.

"D'you wanna play?" Paige asked quietly next to you. You could tell she was hesitant on joining, and would only sit down if you went with her or dragged her with you.

"Why not, what are the chances we get picked anyways?" You decided, downing the last sip of your drink before setting it down on the floor, pulling Paige off the couch with you and into the circle.

"Before we start," Alexa loudly interrupted the conversation of the circle as she placed the beer bottle in the middle, causing everyone to quiet down and listen to her. "If you get picked to go in the room, you do not, and I repeat do not, have to do anything. The room stays unlocked the whole time, and you can't force the other person to do anything, even kiss," She insisted, making eye contact with every person in the circle before sitting back down in her spot.

"Agreed?" She asked everyone, and only allowed the game to start after hearing a response from everyone.

The game started and by the fourth round, everyone except one couple had clearly used the seven minutes to their advantage, coming out with tousled hair, bruised lips, and one girl even came out with a visibly red hickey on her neck. You and Paige had yet to be picked, and you felt a sense of relief that the two of you got to participate without having to actually play the game.

But, you suppose you must have spoken (or thought) too soon though, as you watched the next guy spin the bottle, and it slowed to a stop, the neck pointing right at you. Encouragements and cheers burst from the circle, urging the two of us to go in the room. You recognized who he was from around campus and his games, a junior volleyball player.

He got up from his seat, walking across the circle to you, and offering his hand to pull you up. You looked over hesitantly at Paige, who was barely meeting your eyes and had a small, tight-lipped smile on her face. Ignoring her reaction, you took his hand in yours and allowed him to hoist you up, dropping it the moment you stood in front of him.

You walked into the room first, sitting on the desk pushed up against the wall as he closed the door behind him and walked up to you, leaving a foot of space in between you two, presumably waiting for you to give him some sort of indicator.

"I'm sorry, I hope you don't really mind but I wasn't really planning on getting picked and I'm not comfortable, like, kissing you or anything so if you want to pick someone else I get it, I just don't want to," the nervous ramble poured out of you without constraint, the alcohol you had consumed making you more open-lipped than normal.

"Hey it's cool, you heard Alexa, you don't have to do anything if you don't want to," he shrugged, moving to take a seat on the edge of the queen bed in the room.

"Oh, thank you, I guess. I didn't think you would be so cool about your turn being wasted," You settled on top of the desk properly, turning to face the boy who was surprisingly chill.

"Nah it's whatever, I just broke up with my girlfriend like a month ago too, so I don't really care. I'm Jeremy by the way," he introduced, bringing one foot off the floor to rest over his other knee, leaning slightly back onto the bed.

"I'm Jenna, this is my first party so I wasn't really sure how all of this was gonna go."

"Jenna, I swear I've heard your name before," he paused, thinking for a moment. "Ohh, you’re the one who's friends with the basketball girl, Paige something right?" He suddenly remembered.

"Yeah I came with her tonight, she's my best friend," You smiled, talking about Paige was one of the easiest things in the world for you. You knew everything about her, inside and out, and majority of people knew you through her, since her athleticism made her quite popular around school. You never minded being known as Paige's best friend though, you knew you had your own identity and Paige always reminded anyone who referred to you as that, but there was a certain comfort that your friendship was strong enough for even a stranger to know that about you.

You and Jeremy continued small talking about school and a little bit about his ex-girlfriend before a knock rang out from the door, signaling that your time was up. He got up before you and held the door open as you walked out, instantly being bombarded with excited whoops and teasing "oooo's" as you walked to join the circle again.

"We didn't even do anything, guys" Jeremy emphasized to the circle, attempting to calm the rambunctious circle.

"Then why is she red as a tomato? The girl couldn't be blushing harder if she tried," a random girl in the circle yelled out, revving up the groups fever.

"She's like sixteen, chill out. Besides it's probably cause all of you," Jeremy backed you up as you walked over to your previous seat, but before you sat back down, you realized Paige was no longer there.

"Where did Paige go?" You asked the group before the next person could spin the bottle, causing eyes to shoot up at you.

"She went to the kitchen for a refill, so probably still there," Alexa informed you. You nodded at her before walking away, searching for your missing best friend.

You didn't have to look for long before you found her taking a shot in the kitchen with two other random girls, her face souring heavily at the alcoholic taste. You knew Paige hated the taste of alcohol and was never one to submit to peer-pressure, so why was she taking a shot of tequila with strangers?

"Hey P," you walked up to her, resting your hand on her bicep to draw her attention to you.

"Hey J," she responded dryly, but her voice was slightly slurred, moving her arm out of your hold to swap out the shot class for a full solo cup you could only pray she filled herself.

"You wanna leave soon? It's already like one ish?"

"Sure, whatever," she took a long sip from her cup, downing half of whatever she had poured in it.

"Okay, we can wait outside, let the cold air sober us up a bit before Auntie C gets here," you gently pried the red plastic cup out of her hand before grabbing her hand and leading her out to the living room, saying bye to the small amount of friends you knew before walking outside.

The two of you settled onto the edge of the curb at the ending curve of the sidewalk, just far enough from the house to get a little quiet. The stuffed house had been slightly humid, and the light breeze was a refreshing contrast to your previous environment.

"How was it?" Paige's question broke the quiet but tension-filled bubble the two of you had formed.

"How was what?"

"Your seven minutes in heaven," Paige drunkenly mocked.

"P, we didn't do anything. Like, anything anything," you were confused at her attitude, did she know something about Jeremy, or dislike him for some reason?

"You, you didn't kiss him?" The shock was apparent on her face. "The second you left everyone was talking about Jeremy and Jenna kissing in a tree, it was really annoying," she grumbled, you concluded that the alcohol she had consumed must be what was making her weird.

"No way P, I don't want my first kiss to be like that. Forced and with someone I don't even know, let alone like," you scooched closer into her, resting your head on her shoulder.

You awaited a response from her but never get one, she simply leaned her head on top of yours as you waited in a comfortable silence for your ride, which came quickly.

*small time skip*

You had just finished your short skincare routine and were finally ready to climb into bed with Paige, the long night had taken its toll on you, and you were ready to collapse into the warm embrace of your best friend. But tonight, when you laid down next to her in bed, she didn't immediately cuddle into you like she always did, remaining flat on her back, staring at your ceiling.

Instead, she turned over to face you, only a few inches of space were left in between your faces as she whispered to you, "Why didn't you kiss him?"

Her question shocked you. The two of you rarely visited the topic of romantic relationships or feelings of the sort, and both of you agreed that you weren't interested in the thought as of right now.

"I," you paused. You had never officially come out to Paige, afraid that once she knew you liked girls, your every move would be scrutinized and judged, and your relationship would never be the same. But surely, you insisted internally, Paige wasn't going to be like that.

"I wasn't really interested in the thought of kissing a guy," You quietly admitted, rolling back over onto your back to avoid her gaze.

"Oh." That was it? You basically just came out to her and that's all you got?

"Would you ever kiss a guy? Or just," she paused, the hesitation clear in her voice. "Just girls?"

"No I would kiss both, I just don't think I want my first kiss to be with one? Or at least not Jeremy," you confessed quietly, turning your head back over to look at her. She was staring intently at you, scanning your face.

"Who would you want your first kiss to be with?"

"I don't know, but at least with someone I'm close to. Have you ever," you waited a moment before finishing your sentence, taking a deep breath in between your words.

"Have you ever thought about kissing girls? Or a girl?" You whispered, watching her slightly panicked reaction.

"A few times, but I've never kissed anyone either, so I don't know," Her eyes darted in between your eyes and down to your lips. "What if you kiss me? Just so we can both have our first kisses with someone we know," in retrospect, you should've thought harder before agreeing to kiss your previously assumed straight best friend. But her offer set off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, your cheeks flushed deeply as you nodded.

You shuffled closer to her in bed, such that there was barely an inch of space separating your lips. "Are you sure about this?" You whispered, staring down at her lips while reaching your hand to cup her jaw, the other arm bent at the elbow to support your body above hers.

"Yeah," she nodded, looking down at your own lips, slightly moving in until your lips grazed against hers. You pressed your lips a little firmer into hers, slanting your head further as your lips barely opened. She moved in tandem with you, her hand resting at the nape of your neck as she kissed you back.

Your kiss only lasted a few moments, pulling back the second you registered the taste of alcohol still prominent in her mouth. You realized it was possible that the only reason your best friend asked you to kiss her was because she was drunk, sixteen, and very single.

"This isn't gonna be weird tomorrow is it?" Your brows furrowed as a worried expression settled into your face.

"No, why would it? Friends can kiss, besides we just won't make it weird," she promised. And despite knowing it was a stupid idea, an even stupider statement, you agreed. Collapsing down back onto your pillow, you opened your arms for Paige to snuggle into you, and the two of you drifted into a peaceful slumber.

February 3rd, 2018 (sophomore year; 16 years old)

Paige's POV:

It was a relief to finally find a quiet moment to myself, even if it was at three in the morning in the middle of my living room couch. Everyone in my house was asleep, including Jenna, who was still snoring when I extracted myself from her arms. The ac vent aimed straight at me caused me to pull the blanket tighter into my body, despite the pajama pants I was wearing and one of Jenna's hoodies.

We were almost done with basketball season and were currently playing our conference games, and were thankfully on a streak. And yet, the pressure inside of me continued to build, the need to be perfect and to support and carry my team throughout our games constantly weighing down on me.

Of course my teammates, coaches, family, and my other friends were supportive of me and encouraged me to try my best, and that no one expected perfection of me. But for whatever reason, I couldn't get rid of the anxiety that was constantly taking over my brain, sending me into spiraling panics over my future and my performance.

But throughout the past few months, the only person I felt like I could truly breathe around was Jenna, my lifeline. Despite not being involved in basketball in any way, she understood me and what I was feeling. She confided in me about her having chronic anxiety (GAD) the first time I slept over at her house, when I saw her medication on the dinner table.

She taught me breathing exercises and calming methods, held and comforted me when I cried in the middle of the night from the constant mental pressure, and even told me that I should slide around my initial charm on our matching necklace since it was a better nervous habit than biting my nails.

Even besides that, her presence in itself was a comfort to me, even if I wasn't yet sure of how deep my feelings for her went. She was the first friend I ever said "I love you" too, and I think the same goes for her. And it is true, I do love her with my whole heart, I would do anything she asked or needed of me, I just wasn't sure to what extent this love went.

Along with that, I was still unsure of where I stood with my sexuality. Before Jenna, I never thought about girls in a more than platonic way, but from the first few months of getting to know her, to our first kiss together (still the only time I've ever kissed anybody), to even now, where she was cuddled into my chest a mere thirty minutes ago, I felt electrifying sparks course through my body at her touch, she could make me blush with the most innocent of looks, and she made me giddy in a way even basketball didn't.

But despite all that, it's normal for best friends to love each other? It doesn't automatically mean being gay or being in love, you could just deeply care for the other person. Besides, Jenna never brought up the kiss again, which meant it had probably only happened due to both of our inebriated states.

It was as if my deep train of thought about her cause her to miraculously appear, I knew it was her just from the footsteps upstairs, the way she gently walked down the stairs to avoid a creaky step, and the way her sock-covered feet padded over to the couch, grabbing a throw blanket for herself before taking a seat in the corner end of the couch next as me.

We sat in silence as she reached over to the side of the couch, pushing the button to recline the seat back, unfolding the blanket and covering her bottom half before patting her lap for me once she was fully adjusted.

I all but threw my head into her lap, facing her body, as I extended my legs out onto the rest of the sofa as I moved my arms up hug the tops of her legs as her hands came up to gently scratch at my scalp, playing with my hair in a way that immediately relaxed me into her.

"M'sorry if I woke you," I whispered into her stomach, even though I wasn't actually sorry. I was selfishly happy that she came downstairs for me and would give up anything for us to have more of these quiet moments together, her attention solely focused on me.

"S'okay P, you technically didn't. I felt the bed was empty and then my spidey senses told me you were thinking too hard again, so I came to convince you to come back to bed, but then this beautiful couch looked way too comfortable, so we can just spend the night here," she sleepily mumbled, looking down at me sprawled out onto her lap.

"Tell me who or what is stealing our sleep so I can beat their asses," she joked quietly, her hands coming to rub at my temples.

I sighed, it felt as if her hands were physically melting the pounding in my skull, my headache nearly subsiding just from her touch.

"Just stressed out about everything again y'know? Basketball, school, life, kind of everything," I admitted quietly. The one thing I hated doing, was talking about things that bothered or upset me, it always made me feel weak.

"Hey, we are all so proud of you P. We all know how hard you're working and even though you feel like it, I promise that it's not all up to you. All the people around you love you, and we're all here to help if you need it. You just say the word and we'll all line up for whatever you need," she reassured me, only slightly teasing as her fingers moved to pinch my cheek lightly before moving back to my hair.

"Yeah I know, God really blessed me with you guys. Especially you, I don't know what I would do without you," I murmured up at her, smiling at her sleepy but happy expression.

"Yeah yeah, just say you love me Paige," she poked fun at me quietly, letting her head drop onto the cushion behind her without breaking eye contact with me.

"Hey I do love you J, I say it all the time," I retorted, using my fingers to draw small shapes on her pajama-covered thighs.

"Well I love you too P," her hands smoothed over my hair as she bent down to press a kiss on my hairline before reaching back up to settle into the couch.

"Just trust me, you just need to do all you can so God can do all you can't," she muttered, closing her eyes as she leaned her head slightly onto her shoulder to get comfortable, all without stilling her hands' movements in my scalp.

"Hey that's a sick quote, I'm stealing that from you for my interviews," I teased groggily, the lack of sleep slowly overcoming my voice.

"You can have anything you want from me P, you already know that," she didn't open her eyes when she said that, but I could hear the sincerity in her tone even without looking at her.

The two of us slept the whole night in the exact same position, unaware of everyone waking up to us cuddling on the couch together. My eyes only fluttered open at the sound of quieted laughter and the shuttering of two cameras pointed at the two of us.

As I rolled my head out of Jenna's lap to look at whoever had caused the disturbance, I squinted my eyes to see my dad with his polaroid and Drew using someone's phone. I groaned, burying myself back into Jenna, I probably would never hear the end of this, but it was alright, because it was with Jenna.

July 4th, 2018 (summer before junior year; 16 years old)

Jenna's POV:

"Jenna you need to slow down, I don't want you to throw up or anything," Paige insisted as she walked up to you, pulling you away from the living room of the house party you were in, preventing you from throwing back another shot. The party was hosted by a senior at the end of your neighborhood, just walking distance from both of your houses.

"What's your problem P, I'm just having fun," you argued back, doing your best to enunciate your words to prevent having a slur, knowing she would cut you off immediately if you got too drunk. You were pretty good at holding your liquor, somehow being a natural heavy-weight when it came to drinking.

"Come on Paigey, just lighten up a little, it's the fourth of fucking July, have fun with me. Ooo, we should do a shot together," you elbowed her side jokingly, looking up at her hesitant expression with your best puppy dog eyes.

Her concerned expression softened, you knew it was wrong of you to take advantage of the fact she could never say no to you, but she was the reason you were adamant on drinking to the point of memory loss tonight.

As shameful as it felt to admit it, your best friend had been haunting your every waking moment for the last few months, and you were desperate for an escape from your own thoughts. You always knew you felt something deeper than friendship for Paige, the way your heartbeat would speed up at every touch of her hands, the way you found yourself unable to tear your eyes off of her, on and off the court, and especially, the way you could not escape the mental replay of your kiss.

The press of her soft lips against yours, the slight vanilla taste from her chapstick you so often borrowed, the way the skin of her jaw felt so soft in the palm of your hand, and the way your body melted into hers, pressed against her warm figure.

So, like any reasonable sixteen year old, you were determined to get absolutely shit-faced tonight, to the point where you wouldn't even be able to remember your own name. And the only way that would happen, is if Paige stopped monitoring your every sip of alcohol.

"Okay fine, one shot, but that's it. We can't both be super drunk," She relented, allowing you to pull her back into the kitchen to pour yourself shots.

And just to your luck, Paige had run into a few friends and teammates, leaving you alone with a few class friends for what she intended to be only a few minutes, but ended up being a little over half an hour. Those thirty ish minutes were all you needed to take two more shots, chug one whiteclaw and two beers, and finish a cup of a vodka sprite.

By the time Paige came back, still mostly sober, she was pissed to see that you were plastered, hanging off the shoulder of some guy she could recognize, but was too mad to focus on. She couldn't figure out why you were drinking so much tonight, despite her warning, you were practically making yourself sick for the next day, and you wouldn't even tell her the reason you had been off lately, brushing it off with some bullshitted excuse of school or your parents.

"Yo, who's the blonde chick staring at you?" The random guy you were talking to asked, nodding his head towards Paige, who was leaned against one of the kitchen counters and boring holes into the guy's head.

"Paigeyyy," you called out, lifting your now very heavy head from his shoulder as he pointed out your best friend who was now within eyeline, a deeply annoyed expression settled into her otherwise soft features.

"Hey me and Jenna are gonna head out, it's already past two and she's clearly done drinking for tonight," Paige announced to the group of friends you were hanging out with as she moved towards you, gently guiding your arm over shoulder and pulling you away from the other guy.

"Hey she's fine," the guy you were previously all over slightly slurred, "What are you her babysitter or somethin?"

"Dude worry about yourself, you look like you’re two seconds away from passing out," she snapped at him before walking away, supporting around half of your weight as the two of you exited the house.

"You're always so good to me Paigey, always my taking care of me," you drunkenly mumbled into her shoulder, pressing yourself further into her in an attempt to warm yourself up with her body heat. The summer night in Minnesota wasn't too bad, but your lack of a jacket wasn't helping.

"We'll reach your house in like five minutes, you just gotta walk till there okay?" She spoke firmly, avoiding glancing down at your slouched figure attached to her.

"You're always my best girl," you continued your drunken ramble.

"Always there fo' me, you cuddle me and you kiss me, and you even walk me home," for some selfish reason, she didn't have it in her to stop you. She knew it wasn't fair to you, letting you pour your innermost thoughts or feelings out to her when you weren't in the right state of mind, but she couldn't bear to stop the compliments gushing from your mouth.

"No need to date anyone in the whole wide world when I have you. You're so much nicer than the other girls. Or boys. And prettier. You're the prettiest out of all of them. So pretty, even when you're all sweaty and gross in basketball. You even kiss nice, don't wanna kiss anyone else after you kissed me," she finally cut your mindless babble into her neck off.

"We're here, I need your keys," her voice was curt, almost like she didn't want to be with you anymore. You lifted your head out of the crook of her neck to fumble around the pockets of your jeans, finally pulling out your lanyard and holding it out for her.

She took it from your grasp quickly, unlocking your house and helping you in to take both of your shoes off and lead you up into your bathroom, sitting you on the closed toilet as she went into your room to grab a change of clothes for you.

You leaned your head back in the two minutes she had left, closing your eyes and barely drifting off when she re-entered the bathroom, waking you up so she could help you change and take off your makeup.

It wasn't until you were sitting against the headboard of your bed, watching her move around your room to collect stray clothes from the floor into your hamper that the two of you finally spoke again.

"Paigey are you mad at me?" the nickname slipped from your mouth once again as you questioned her quietly. Paigey was something that usually only Drew called her regularly, but for some reason it was the only thing you referred to her as when drunk.

"Yes Jenna, is that what you wanna hear? That I'm fucking pissed off at you? You've been acting weird for the last like, two months. And no matter how much I try, you won't open up to me, it's frustrating me," she exclaimed pausing her movements around the room to rant to you despite her better judgement telling her she shouldn't talk to you about this while you're drunk.

"And then tonight you're all over some random douche, pretending like everything is fine when you know it's not. Then you start spewing that bullshit about me I know you don't mean because you're drunk."

You stayed silent for a few moments before you responded, "'M sorry, I shouldn't have shut you out for something you didn't do. But saying I don't mean what I said? That's not fair and you know it."

"Stop it Jenna, I think that you should just go to sleep. You're so drunk, you're not even coherent anymore, and I don't want to have this conversation with you like this,"

"What if I just wanna tell you how pretty you are, or how nice you kiss? Or that I love-"

"Stop Jenna, please just stop," Paige shut her eyes, her voice sounding nearly painful.

"Please J, you're drunk and you don't mean it. You can't say things like that and not mean it to me, I can't take it," she begged.

"If I say it to you tomorrow will you believe me?" you whispered, hesitating before continuing.

"If I tell you I love you tomorrow, will you say it back? Will you mean it the same way I mean it?" you pleaded with her, desperate to hear that she felt the same way you did, that you weren’t the only idiot who had fallen in love with her best friend.

"I'm gonna sleep on the couch," she muttered, walking out of your room and closing the door behind her. You could feel your heart sinking, the tears burning in your eyes, threatening to pour out at the smallest movement.

You stare at the door for a few minutes, praying that Paige would change her mind, burst back in and say that she did love you too, that you weren’t alone. She would pull you into her, kiss you stupid, and cuddle you for the rest of the night.

But she didn't and you eventually cried yourself into an uncomfortable sleep, tossing and turning the whole night.

***the next morning***

Your eyes fluttered open from the sunlight beaming through my half-closed curtains. Your head was pounding, threatening to split in half as you turned over, burying yourself into the pillow underneath your comforter.

You tried my best to recall what had happened last night that left you nearly dead the next morning. As you fought to focus despite a dry throat, aching body, and throbbing head, a specific moment came pouring back.

There was no fucking way.

You told Paige, presumably straight Paige, your best friend ever Paige, that you loved her. You had gone on a whole fucking tangent about how pretty she was, how nobody could compare, and the fact that you loved her.

You shot up in bed, fighting every painful twinge in your body to reach for your phone, when you saw a water bottle with two advils on your nightstand. You quickly chugged them as you reached for your phone, unplugging it from the charger. That was something you had most definitely not remembered to do last night.

At 7:21 in the morning there was only one text from Paige.

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Peanut Butter 💜: Hey, my step-mom called me over to help her clean some stuff up. You went pretty hard last night so I left some water and painkillers for you, make sure you take them and eat breakfast. I'll see you later yeah?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fuck, did she not remember what had happened last night? No, that wasn't possible, she barely drank. Did she want to pretend like it never happened? Was it because she didn't feel the same about you? As it was, she didn't allow you to finish saying you were in love with her, and it wasn't like she said it back. Was she trying to avoid ruining your friendship?

She had texted you almost three hours ago, which meant your parents had to already be back from their night shift and everyone in her house was probably awake.

You threw your phone out onto your bed, slamming yourself back down and under your covers.

What were your options here? Either pretend like it never happened and continue hopelessly pining after your best friend, confess your feelings only to get rejected and ruin your friendship, or the least likely of them all.

You told her and she felt the same.

You thought long and hard about what to do. As much as it would hurt to only be something, continuing to hide your feelings, it would be worse to be nothing to her, right?

But if it had slipped out of you once, wasn't there the chance it could happen again? What if it was even worse the next time, what if it was in public and everyone ended up finding out.

It would be better to own up to the truth now, right? Right? Right, you decided.

You finally mustered up the courage to leave the safe haven of your bed. dragging yourself to the bathroom to freshen up (ESPECIALLY BRUSHING YOUR TEETH) before quietly exiting your house, walking across the street to hers.

You knocked on the door firmly, knowing the Bueckers weren't the biggest fans of using the doorbell.

"Jenna," Drew exclaimed as he opened the door for you, allowing you into the house you had quickly claimed as your second home.

"What's up little man," you greeted him while taking off your slippers, "Where's your sister?" You asked him.

You had made it a habit to call Paige, Drew's sister, when talking to him. You felt bad that people always mentioned him as Paige's little brother instead of taking two seconds to learn his name, so you always made the effort to make sure he felt seen.

"She's in her room, she said she was feeling weird when she came home and she won't leave her room," he told you.

Shit, that meant she did remember what had happened. Well, it was now or never.

"Thanks Drew, Hi Mrs. Bueckers," you waved to her in the kitchen as you made your way to the stairs, bounding up two at a time to reach Paige's room faster. Her door was shut when you reached, and you knocked lightly on the wood.

"Hey P, it's me," you called out through the closed door, waiting to hear her mumbled, come in, before turning the knob. She was laying down in her bed, putting her phone down as she looked up at you.

"How you feeling Jelly? You drank a lot last night," she asked quietly, her hands fiddling with the top of her comforter, something you knew she did when she was nervous.

"Not that bad," you moved to sit down next to her lying figure, gazing down at her exhausted face. You could tell she hadn't slept well last night either, surely from your intoxicated confession.

"Listen, I know I was really stupid last night, but what we were talking about in my room," Paige cut you off before you could finish.

"Hey it's fine, I get it. You were really drunk and you get kind of emotional at that stage, so it's not even a big deal-"

"Oh my god Paige will you let me even speak? I meant what I said last night," you interrupted. There was no way you would allow her to brush this under the rug the same way you let her pretend your kiss had never happened.

"You're not just my best friend, you're my everything. You mean the literal world to me, there's barely anything I wouldn't do for you, because I'm in love with you. I have been for a reallly really long time now, that's why I was trying to keep my distance. It hurt, being around you and pretending like my heart wasn't going to explode at nearly everything you said or did with me," you professed, watching her expression morph from faked nonchalance to shock, and slowly, a small smile broke out.

"You, you love me love me? Like, you're in love with me? In a more than friends way?" She sat up to face you fully as she questioned you, tucking her bottom lip into her mouth as she waited for your response.

"No shit Sherlock Holmes, it's almost like I said it like four times now, and you're still not-" she didn't let you finish your exasperated sentence before pulling you into her, pressing your lips firmly into hers.

You closed your eyes as you sighed into the minty kiss, melting into her hold as she moved her lips against you slowly, the rest of the world faded away as the two of you found peace in each other's embrace.

"You know you still haven't told me you love me back," you mumbled against her lips as the two of you separated a minute later, a wide grin stretched out across your face.

"No shit I love you too Sherlock Holmes," she teased, using the nickname you had come up with against you. "Have been for a while now, glad you finally noticed," she pulled you into her as she flopped down to lie down on her side, facing you.

The two of you continued to exchange light pecks and languid kisses, reveling in the comfort of your intertwined bodies in Paige's warm bed.

"Does this mean we're dating?" Paige pulled back to watch your face as she asked.

"Yeah P, this means you're my girlfriend now. Just mine, kay?" You beamed, caressing her cheek with your thumb.

"Got it, as long as you're only mine J."

December 23rd, 2019 (Winter Break, senior year; 18 years old)

Paige’s POV:

"I have no idea what that's supposed to mean," Jenna giggled at my response, her laughter rumbling her body against mine. She was currently sprawled over my body in tiny pajama shorts and a cropped tank top, her head laying on my chest as she wrote random words onto my left arm for me to guess, my other hand wrapped tightly over her waist, eliminating any space that may have been between us.

Jenna had finally finished all of her college applications and we both took our winter finals two weeks prior, leaving us to peacefully enjoy our Christmas and New Years together.

We had already been dating for over a year now, and if I wasn't completely and irrevocably head over heels for Jenna Smyths before, I most definitely was now. The two of us were already inseparable even before we started dating, but since last July it was almost like we couldn't spend go more than twenty-four hours apart, which our families had slowly started picking up on.

We never really told my family that we were dating, just slowly started leaving hints here and there. Spending more time together, being more cuddly or touchy with the other person (all pg of course), and we went to our most recent school dances together, as friends, but still.

Even at school or in public, we basically acted the same as we always did, and despite the rumors running rampant in the many gossip circles, no one had any evidence to prove any allegation, and when prompted, we always gave the same answer, "She's my best friend".

But with Jenna's family on the other hand, only her mom knew after a really awkward walking-in incident. It wasn't too bad, it just so happened that one night when I was sleeping over at her house in March, we were innocently making out in her bed, as any seventeen year-old couple did, when her mom walked in to tell us that we were going out for breakfast the next morning. We quickly separated, but not fast enough to evade her mom.

Needless to say, the two of us had to endure a very, very embarrassing conversation of being safe and responsible together, and the only reason she didn't rat us out to Jenna's dad or my family to stop our sleepovers was the fact that neither of us could get pregnant from anything we may or may not do.

Unfortunately, our "separation anxiety problem" proved to be quite the difficult challenge when I had to leave for the team USA basketball games and Jenna went on college tours with her parents. The two of us managed to get by through near constant texting and nightly FaceTime calls, which I've accepted may be the norm for our relationship in the future.

I already committed to UConn back in April, but Jenna still hasn't decided where she wants to go. She's applied sort of everywhere, California, Washington, Michigan, Minnesota, Pennsylvania, New York, and of course, Connecticut. She hasn't told me what her top pick is out of all of her applications, but I had a feeling she was refraining from telling me because it was going to be one of the furthest ones from UConn.

I didn't mind having to do long distance, as hard as it would be, I would take that struggle over losing Jenna any day. But there was a sneaking suspicion in the back of my mind that Jenna didn't agree, that she would rather break up than have to deal with long distance.

But that couldn't happen to us, we were Paige and Jenna, Peanut Butter and Jelly, and there was no way that we would break up because of college. I mean sure, we had real arguments every once in awhile, one of us got a little jealous, or we were tired or annoyed and accidentally took it out on the other person. But those never lasted long, both of us being too weak to remain mad at the other for more than a day.

One of the biggest arguments we had was over one of my newest and closest friends, Azzi Fudd. We met through team USA and got really close really quickly, which Jenna wasn't the fondest of. We never talked about her until I had gotten back, and Jenna finally burst when I paused our conversation to text Azzi back.

It wasn't until after I assured Jenna that Azzi was straight and was definitely not interested in me in anyway since she had a crush on a boy at her school, that she was my girlfriend and the only one I had eyes for, and she met Azzi in person for the first time that she understood just how platonic our friendship was and also formed a connection with the younger girl.

To be fair, Jenna wasn't the only one with slight jealousy issues, or as she called it, me being "territorial", which I wholeheartedly disagree with. I just think that some of the guys and girls she's friends with don't need to be all over her all the time, but Jenna was just a naturally affectionate person who made everyone around her feel loved and seen, and I understood that doesn't necessarily mean in a romantic way.

Which is all to say that despite any minor bumps in the road, our relationship was as steady and strong as ever, and there was no where else in the world I would rather be right now than in bed with Jenna's body covering mine.

"I wrote bball doofus, okay there's no way you don't get this next one," she remarked teasingly. I pinched her side as she stifled her laughter, adjusting herself over me before going to write her next phrase on my bicep. I was wearing a similar tank top to hers, but with warmer, full length pajama pants. Jenna always refused to admit when she was feeling cold, which was always, instead choosing to intertwine her legs with mine, absorbing any body heat radiating off of me.

I closed my eyes and focused on her fingers fluttering over my arm, concentrating on the words she attempted to spell out. It was a phrase so familiar to us at this point I had figured it out before she had even gotten to the last word.

I smiled down at her, watching as she moved her gaze from her writing to my face, a wide grin and blush present on her features.

"I love you," I whispered to her, admiring at the way her cheeks flushed deeper at my statement. She never used to be the type of person who got easily flustered or shied away from a challenge, but when it came down to the sweetest moments like this, her body was almost constantly some shade of red or pink.

Jenna wasn't the most openly affectionate person, she often got shy when it came to dates, romantic gesture, even verbally expressing her feelings. But by driving me around all the time when I didn't have my car or even my license, helping me with homework last minute, doing my hair for games, cooking and baking food for me, and remembering the smallest details about me, she showed me how much she loved me, and that was always enough for me.

"I love you too," she whispered back, resting her chin on my chest as she continued to gaze up at me, deep adoration present in her eyes, and without a doubt, I was sure I was looking back at her with either the same or deeper level of infatuation. I moved my hand around her waist to draw small circles on the sliver of skin that was exposed, relishing in the sweet intimacy.

Moments like this were my favorite, relishing in the presence of one of my favorite people on earth, quiet and at peace with no distractions, just the two of us enjoying our time spent together.

"Wait I wanna switch, it's your turn to be the big spoon," I patted her waist to guide her to flip over onto her back, so I could lay my head down on her this time.

One of the things I loved to do with Jenna was listen to her heartbeat, it was the beat of a song I would never know the name of, but it was my favorite. To me, it proved the tangibility of the connection between our souls, the love we held for each other. It was listening to the sound that kept my life force breathing, that allowed me to keep my rock and anchor, the person I loved the most and showed me that everyday was worth living, no matter what, because it was with her.

May 22nd, 2020 (End of Senior Year; 18 years old)

My heart sank at the silence I received from Paige, she was sitting across from me on my bed and kept switching from quietly scanning over the letter on my computer screen to changing the tabs, looking over all the schools I had received acceptance letters from.

Despite getting into UConn with Paige, and even universities close to her on the East Coast, like NYU and UPenn, I was choosing to commit to UCLA, my dream school since I was seven. It was safe to say Paige wasn't thrilled with my decision, evident through her lack of a response.

"P? Please say something, literally anything," I begged, her silence was unsettling, and her face was stoic and near emotionless, which meant I had no idea of the thoughts running through her head right now.

"I don't even know what you want me to say. Or expect me to do," she paused before continuing, "I am so proud of you and everything you've done and accomplished to make it this far, but I feel so," she stopped, collecting her thoughts and emotions before continuing.

"I almost want to hate you for choosing to go so far, for choosing to leave me and be so far away from me when we both know this kind of long-distance won't work," her voice cracked, at the end of her sentence. Rather than continuing to talk, she raised the collar of her t-shirt to her eyes, tucking her head under to hide the tears that had begun to spill out.

You moved your laptop away so could close some of the distance between the two of you. You gently cupped her face, coaxing her to let go of her t-shirt so you could look directly in her eyes.

"I know, and I'm so sorry, but I can't not go Paige. I need to do this for myself and I know that if I don't go, or at least give it my best shot, I'll regret it for the rest of my life," her heartbroken expression was painful for you to watch, only making it harder for you to refrain from crying.

"If I asked you to even consider, not even coming to UConn with me but like, NYU or something, literally anywhere closer to make the long distance work, would you?" Her eyes bore into yours, searching for the answer she dreaded hearing.

You waited a moment to answer, not to think over your answer or consider her question, you already knew the answer. But to compose yourself, holding in the pain you felt from hurting the only person who would ever love you like this.

You dropped your hands from her face before responding, "No."

You could see, practically hear, her heart shatter at your response, not expecting you to be so cold and short with her. She was openly crying now, her voice now shaky and slightly higher-pitched.

"So all the times that you told me that you couldn't imagine living without me, that you needed me, that you felt like you could only breathe around me, that was all bullshit? Or you just, what, changed your mind?"

"I never lied to you about that Paige, all of those things are still true. But this is my dream, I obviously didn't go into this whole process expecting to get into one of the top universities in the nation. If I asked you the same thing right now, to give up UConn and accept one of the recruitment offers you got closer to UCLA, would you?"

"Don't turn this around on me and make me the selfish one right now. That's not fair and you know it Jenna. Getting recruited is different, it determines whether or not I can go pro in the future, it makes all the difference in the world when it comes time for me to get drafted in the W."

"I'm not trying to accuse you of anything Paige, I'm just trying to make you understand that I can't give up UCLA. And selfish, really? Trying to make a life for myself, going to the college of my dreams, that's selfish?"

"That's not what I meant," she sighed, rubbing her hands over her tear-streaked face.

"You have to understand what it feels like to be in my position right now. You're my everything, my best friend, my girlfriend, the one person who knows me better than anyone, even my parents. And you just dropped a bomb of information on me. From day one, I have always been clear about where I wanted to go to college, and I signed as soon as I got the offer. But you never said anything about that, and on top of it, you were always the one who talked about our future together, and now it's like you're taking all of your previous statement back."

"I'm sorry Paige. I'm so sorry that I'm doing this to you, that I'm hurting you. That was never my intention with this. You're my everything too, but that's not right and that's not how it should be. One person can't be my whole life, and I can't be yours either. No matter how much I love you and need you, I also need this for myself."

Paige's eyes were bloodshot at this point, and you hadn't noticed when, but somewhere during your conversation you had given up on trying to hold back your own tears.

"I've already submitted a housing application, the apartments open from June but usually students don't go until July or August, so I'll still be here for a little while," you sniffled.

As much as your decision hurt Paige, you knew it was the right thing for both of you. Paige had to focus on basketball and you needed to focus on school and your own future, and maybe the time apart would allow you to grow together rather than apart.

After all, isn't distance supposed to make the heart grow fonder?

a/n: thank you for reading all the way through, any and all support is greatly appreciated!!

[chaussetteblanche]

Hi ! So I just loved your Luke castellan’s stories and I was wondering if you could write a story with him starting to date a child of Athena (the reader) but she wants to keep their relationship secret because she’s afraid Annabeth would get mad at her for « stealing » her hero away. Reader and Luke get caught by Annabeth whose reaction is « Finally » as she’s seen the two of them pinning on each other for years. It would be great if it was fluffy.

Sorry for the long request and thank you for your work ! It’s amazing !

hi baby, thanks so much for requesting! this was really fun to write :) hope you like it <3

Finally

pairing : luke castellan x child of athena!reader summary : two times your relationship with luke is almost revealed and the one time when it is word count : 2.6k warnings : none

"W-wait, no, Luke, we can't." Luke froze immediately, his eyes searching yours for the reasoning behind your words. You licked your lips and leaned your head back against the wood of the cabin he had pressed you up against, letting out a small sigh. His hands were on your waist, your skin was fire underneath. You could feel his warm breath against your lips. Your hands were on his shoulders, your fingers fiddling with the string around his neck. You two had never been so close before in a context which was not sparring. And he'd been about to finally kiss you but you'd stopped him.

"I- it's just with Annabeth, y'know? I don't want her to feel like I'm stealing her away from you or anything." You worried your bottom lip, looking up at him sheepishly. His brows raised in comprehension and he nodded slowly, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your sides. "Yeah, I get it. I understand why you feel that way, but also, what I feel for you is very different than what I feel for Annabeth. I think that would be clear to pretty much anyone, love. And she's smart, she'll understand, don't you think?"

You kept quiet, still nibbling on your bottom lip, your eyes trained to the colourful beads around his throat. "Baby, if you bite your lip one more time, I'm going to do it for you," Luke warned in a low voice. You looked up at him as he pulled your bottom lip out from between your teeth with his thumb. He kept his finger there for a moment before pulling it away. Yeah, this isn't going to work for me, you thought. You couldn't imagine yourself not kissing him. Not when you'd been like this, not after the years of tension and wondering and worrying which had led up to this moment.

"How 'bout we just keep it secret?" you suggested, hands trailing down his front before stopping at his waist. You lightly fisted the material of his T-shirt, using it to slowly pull him closer. "What, us?" he whispered huskily. "Yeah." "You know what?" he chuckled, "I'll take it."

He wasted no time in capturing your lips with his, pushing himself flush against you. You let out a breath as you kissed him, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.

"God, I've been wanting to do that for ages," he groaned against your lips. Your hand tangled itself in his hair as you tilted your head to the side. "Shut up and kiss me, Castellan."

And so you kept your relationship hidden from everyone. No one could know. You both knew Annabeth well, her being your actual half-sister and like Luke's little sister, so you knew that if anyone got the gist of what was happening between the two of you, she'd know. She would find a way to know. She always did.

So you were careful. You knew how much your half-sister admired and respected Luke the last thing you wanted was to take that away from her. She'd been through a lot, more than she should have ever gone through, and you knew having Luke as an older-brother-figure was very important and healthy for her.

At first, you allowed yourselves nothing more than knowing glances across crowds or rooms. Lovesick smiles and faint blushes. Maybe a hand brushing against another when you crossed each other. Sometimes, Luke's hand on high up on your thigh underneath the table. But despite this caution you both took very seriously, you had almost gotten caught a few times.

The first time had been entirely Luke's fault. You'd been teaching a new camper, Nate, how to use a spear. You were just as good at Clarisse, if not better, at wielding the weapon, it being your mother's go-to choice. The sun was getting low and painting everything gold, showing just how much time you two had been training for.

"Yeah, that's good. Do it again." You instructed as you walked around Nate in a circle. He was repeating the stabbing and slashing movement, though he seemed a bit distracted as he kept looking past you. You turned around to see Luke leaning against a pillar a few meters away, eyeing you. Your stomach flipped and you beamed, sending a warm wave his way. He returned the smile and the wave.

You turned back to your student, leaning against your spear. You suddenly felt eager to call the training session to an end. "Nate, I think we've done enough for today, yeah? We can continue tomorrow afternoon." "Whatever you say, doll."

Luke watched from his spot as Nate helped you undo your breastplate, his brows raising. Oh. He observed closely when the boy pressed a hand to the small of your back to direct you out of the training ring, lowering his head closer to yours to hear what you were saying. The child of Hermes was positively fuming by the time you both reached him.

You sped up the pace to give him a quick hug of greeting. "Hi, Luke!" you greeted cheerily, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Hey, baby," he spoke into your hair as he returned the embrace tightly. He kept you under his arm even after you pulled away. If you noticed his unusual behaviour, you didn't mention it. "Hey, man." Nate greeted with a grin, his eyes trained on you. Luke set his jaw. "Hey," he spoke icily. You frowned, Luke was never this cold with anyone. You sent him a confused look but he just kept staring at Nate. A short moment of awkward silence passed before Nate inhaled sharply. "Well, I'll be off, then. Y/N, I'll see you at dinner?" he asked, looking expectantly at you. Luke answered before you could. "Probably not, man." "Oh... uh, okay. See you both 'round, then." Nate nodded towards the both of you before walking off, head bowed and hands buried deep inside his pockets.

You pulled away from Luke, looking up into his face with furrowed brows. "What was that?" you asked, your head tilted to the side. "What was what?" Luke shrugged innocently. "That!" You pointed at Nate's retreating form, scoffing. "You're never so blatantly cold! Not to mention rude!" Luke raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I don't like his vibe." "You-" you let out a disbelieving laugh. "You don't like his vibe? C'mon Luke-" "I didn't like the way he was with you."

"What do you mean? He was-" You were interrupted by Luke. He folded his arms over his chest. "Touching you, unnecessarily. The hand to your back. And he undid your breastplate, Y/N." "So? You do that too... oh." You shut your mouth as you came to the realisation that maybe, just maybe, Nate had been hinting at something other than friendship with you. "Yeah. Oh." Luke scoffed icily. You frowned and touched his arm. "Luke, baby, there's nothing to be upset about. We're just friends." "Yeah, but does he know that? I'm not worried about you, love."

You nodded and passed your arm through his. You started walking back to where you would have dinner. "Look, forget about him, alright? Let's go to dinner, 'm starving." "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry for acting-" "Jealous?" you interrupted with a small laugh. Luke stopped in his tracks, a dramatic hand splayed over his heart. "Me? Jealous?" he gasped, shock written all over his features. He thought for a second and then shrugged. "Maybe a bit, yeah."

The second time you'd almost gotten caught had been pretty much your fault. Luke had been wounded in capture the flag. It had been nothing too serious, merely a superficial wound, but he'd still been brought into the infirmary. You, having been on the opposite team and at the other end of the forest, were part of the last campers informed.

You'd heard the first three words : "Luke was hurt..." before you'd totally lost it. Cursing loudly, you immediately bolted in the infirmary's direction. You had never run as fast in your life as you did that day. Mere seconds went by before you skidded to a halt right outside the infirmary, where three quarters of the camp was hanging around. You cursed Luke's popularity and the campers' curiosity as you pushed your way through the crowd.

"Excuse me... sorry, sorry... could you move please?" Your patience was wearing very thin by the time you got to the door separating Luke and the rest of the world. Your hand was on the handle, hear hammering inside your eardrums when you were stopped. "He's not taking any visitors at the moment." You recognised the daughter of Apollo but couldn't be bothered for pleasantries. "He'll take me," you replied strongly, twisting the door handle. The girl let out a small huff and placed a hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place. You felt your blood starting to boil. "Look, he just got stabbed, give him a bit of space to breathe, okay?" You harshly pulled her hand off your shoulder and ignored her indignant look. "Honey, I'm going in and you're not going to stop me." You raised yourself to your full height and glowered down at her. It was times like these when you were grateful for your godly parent's mightiness and for your own reputation. She swallowed before shaking her head. "Hey, don't make me call-" "HE'S MY-" you lowered your voice, which had gotten surprisingly loud, and cleared your throat. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. You had almost blown your cover. You recovered. "Step aside," you sneered, "now."

The girl finally seemed to get the message and stepped to the side, lips curled in a grimace. You ignored her and darted inside the room. You saw Luke and gasped, slapping a hand over your mouth. His waist was wrapped in bandages and he looked awfully pale. "Oh my gods, Luke," you cried, feeling your legs get weak at the sight. "It looks worse than it is, I promise, love," he assured. You sat down on the side of his bed, looking him over, subconsciously checking for any more injuries. When you found none, you took his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers.

"Did they take care of it correctly?" "Yes, baby." "They gave you stitches?" "Yeah, four." "And they wrapped it tight enough?" "Yes, baby." "And-" "Baby, look at me." Luke's warm palm pressed against your cheek, guiding your face to look at him. "I'm fine. I'm okay. It was an accident. I'll be okay. It's just another scar."

You inhaled deeply, nodding slowly. You quickly wiped your eyes. You'd been so scared, you had immediately imagined the worst. But he was okay, he was here, with you, alive and well. "I almost hit the girl outside, she didn't want to let me in," you chuckled wetly. Luke cooed and wiped a stray tear away with his thumb. "Baby, don't cry. I'm okay, I promise." He sat up with a wince and pressed a short kiss to your lips. "And I forbid you to get into fights over me." You chuckled dryly. He had no idea. You'd get into fights with literal gods over him without a second thought. "Now," you ran your thumb over his knuckles, "tell me who did this to you."

The third time you almost got caught, well, you actually did get caught. And this time, though Luke would argue the contrary, it was totally, entirely and unarguably his fault. Really.

"Hey." A smile made its way onto your face at the sound of that voice you knew so well. You and some other campers were sitting around a fire, chatting and laughing. You turned around to see Luke and immediately opened your arms to hug him. He chuckled and bent down to hug you. He brushed his lips against your neck as he did so and you shivered. He sat down next to you, your thighs pressing against each other.

"Haven't seen you all day, love." He spoke quietly as he looked down into your eyes. You huffed and ran a heavy hand over your face. Luke tilted his head to the side. "I know," you groaned, "Mr. D has me doing all these stupid chores because I said something about Coke being a poor dietary choice or something. And apparently he took that personally." Luke couldn't help letting a chuckle slip. You gasped.

"Are you laughing at my demise, Castellan?" you asked, feigning an indignant look. He laughed, pressing a hand against your knee. "You have to admit, it's kinda funny." "Me shovelling pegasus poop because I said that edulcorants and aspartame are not good for your health is not funny!" He snorted a cute laugh and you had trouble keeping a straight face. You lightly hit his chest. "Screw you, Castellan."

His hand came up to keep yours pressed against his chest. You could feel his heart beating rapidly. "Yes, please." Your eyes snapped up to his and heat rushed to your cheeks. You rolled your eyes, shoving him back. "Shut up."

A few moments later, Luke and you had bid the other campers good night and started heading for the cabins. It was dark, so you and Luke allowed yourselves to hold hands. "I miss you, y'know," Luke spoke softly. "What d'you mean? You see me every day." You cocked your head to the side, looking up at his moonlit face, his scar being made more apparent by the white light. You thought he looked beautiful. "Yeah, but we don't get many moments to ourselves these days, there's always other people around and... I dunno, I guess I'm kinda tired of the whole 'keeping this a secret thing'..."

"Luke, baby, y'know I would love to not keep it a secret, but-" "Yeah, I know, baby, I'm just being fussy, I'm sorry." He stopped in front of the Athena cabin, turning to stand in front of you. "No, don't apologise, because I'm the one who-" You were interrupted by his lips on yours. Warm, soft and your favourite taste. The rest of the words died on your tongue as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes.

Luke pulled you closer by the hips, one of his hands resting on the skin of your waist underneath your shirt. You shivered happily and pressed yourself flush against him. Goosebumps erected everywhere he touched you and when he pulled away to kiss your jaw, your eyes fluttered closed at the pleasure of feeling his lips on your skin. You tangled your hands in his hair, twisting and lightly pulling at the soft strands. You pulled him back up to your lips, desperately wanting to kiss him again. He happily obliged and lightly bit your bottom lip. You couldn't help but let out a moan at the feeling. You felt Luke's grip on you tighten at the sound.

"What the-"

Luke and you froze on the spot at the sound of a voice you both knew too well. Slowly untangling yourselves from one another, you tried to fix your appearance before facing Annabeth with a nervous smile. "We can explain-" "Don't." She stopped you with a raised hand. "I'm just glad y'all finally got it outta your systems before I dropped dead from the mutual desperate pining. Good night."

You let out a small, breathless laugh as she disappeared inside the cabin. Luke ran a hand thought his hair, letting out a slow breath before cupping your cheek and stepping closer to you.

"So, now that that's cleared, where were we?"

[zepskies]

Sample the Menu

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

AN: Happy New Year, everyone! 🌟 This was requested by a lovely anon. It’s sort of a sequel to the imagine below. ⤵️

See this imagine for context: Repaying him for a job well done.

Word Count: 550 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only — spiciness and innuendo.

Imagine: Interrupting Ben while he’s cooking.

The cringeworthy sound of metal clanging on metal woke you up early on a Saturday morning. Though your irritation was soon waylaid by the glorious smell wafting up from the kitchen.

Bacon. It had to be. Mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

You slid out of bed, pulled on one of the shirts discarded on the bedroom floor (likely Ben’s, for how big it was), and freshened up before heading downstairs.

You were greeted to a mouthwatering sight.

An over six-foot tower of a man was taking up your kitchen, all broad shoulders and lean muscle and bed-tousled hair.  

In short, Ben was cooking.

But because he didn’t have to worry about the potential sting of sparked bacon grease, he only wore a pair of sweatpants while scrambling the eggs. Slowly you crept closer, not wanting to disturb his concentration just yet.

He actually seemed to be doing well. Or at least, nothing seemed to be on fire. (A vast improvement from previous attempts.)

Besides the pans of eggs and bacon, there were four slices of bread locked and loaded in the double-decker toaster, a side of butter, and two plates on the counter. The coffee was already done percolating.

Once again, your boyfriend managed to delight and surprise. He’d never cooked for you before. And you could dare to say, not for anyone before. You'd just recently managed to get him to do the dishes without being asked, to say nothing of breaking out the cookware...

There was an enormous mess of bowls, plates, and even a whisk in the sink, but you could deal with that if this was your reward.

A bubbly feeling rose up into your chest, making you smile. You went to him on light feet, sneaking up behind him.

Looping your arms through his and embracing him from behind, you leaned up on your toes and nipped at his bare shoulder. To him, it felt like a mere graze of your teeth.

“Mmm, I love a man at work,” you said.  

“Was wondering how long you were gonna fucking stand there,” Ben said, finally glancing at you over his shoulder. His lips twitched upward at the sight of your grin.

You hugged him tight from behind and pressed a lingering kiss into his neck.

“Breakfast looks good, babe. Thank you,” you said, though your hands drifted down his chest, down his sternum, down to thumb at the stretchy waistband of his pants. “It all looks good.”

A smirk pulled at his lips, though you couldn’t see it.

“Oh yeah?” he said. “Want to sample the menu?”

He felt your smile grow against his skin. “Yeah, I think I do.”

Just as you might’ve started inching that waistband down his hips, and lowering yourself along with it, Ben set down the metal salad spoon he’d been using to mix the eggs and turned in your arms.

He grabbed you by the hips and hauled you up on the counter beside him, hard enough to make the plates clatter. You gasped at the suddenness of it and clung to his arms.

“Ben—”

“Be a good girl and sit pretty for me,” he said. His eyes glinted with a familiar edge of cockiness before they roamed over your bare thighs. His grip brought you right to the edge of the counter, where he spread your legs apart. You allowed it, a tremor of arousal coiling in your belly.

His hand ventured up the inside of your thigh, and his smirk deepened.

It seemed you’d forgone panties entirely this morning. He liked that, along with the blushing smile you now wore, just for him.

“On second thought,” he said, as his fingers brushed the bare seam between your legs. “I think I want a taste.”  

AN: Hopefully the real food doesn't get cold. 😅

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List (Part 1):

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk

@midnightmadwoman @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken

@deanfreakingwinchester @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester

@tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @lacilou

[xxsabitoxx]

Pale Blue [2] No Context Teaser Suguru Edition

A/N: taking a little break from my finals just to share this cause I miss writing Pale Blue and physically cannot wait for this week to be over.

Pairing is Geto Suguru x Pregnant Reader

“She will be the last client for this year, please let any new potential clients know that I will not be able to meet with them until after the new year.” 

She nodded quickly before departing, leaving Suguru alone again as he reached for the paperwork he set down. “What a kind heart you have, papa Geto.” Suguru hadn’t even been able to read the next sentence, laughing softly at Mimiko’s comment. The brunette girl was kicking her feet, coloring intently beside her sister on the plush rug Suguru had put in just for them. “It’s important to help people in need, you know. She seemed like she could really use it.” He smiled fondly at the two sisters, listening to Nanako hum softly as she scribbled onto the page. 

“I guess you’re right.” 

“You guess I’m right?” 

Mimiko nodded, stopping her coloring to look up at Suguru behind his desk. “Yeah, I mean you really don’t need to help anyone. But you choose to do so even when you don’t have to. You have a kind heart, papa Geto.” The small girl repeated her initial statement, smiling softly as Suguru’s expression morphed into one of genuine surprise. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, watching her small head turn back to the paper she was drawing on, starting to hum along with the tune Nanako had set. Suguru sat there, wondering how a child could think of such things. 

He saw himself as anything but kind-hearted at this point in his life. But still, he didn’t have the heart to say those things, especially not to a six year old. Suguru had barely reached for his paperwork again when your face crossed his mind, making him freeze once more. You had been a constant thought in his mind since the day he left. Not even an hour had gone by where you didn’t consume his thoughts, knocking the air from his lungs and paralyzing him for a moment. He missed you. Fuck he missed you terribly and it was enough to render him utterly immobile at points. 

Slowly, he forced air back in his lungs, your smile leaving a permanent mark engraved in his mind. He didn’t regret anything he did up until this point, well maybe except for one particular thing. He didn’t take you with him the day he left. He knew he loved you too much to force you into this kind of life, he needed it to be a choice you made out of your own free will. Something cheesy about loving someone meant setting them free when the time came had crossed his mind when leaving you that letter. Leaving it on the bed he once called his own, so long as you were in it, it was his. 

But still, the choice to leave it all up to your own free will did nothing to fill the void beside him each night. How desperately he wished you were laying beside him, curled perfectly into his embrace, face snuggled into the crook of his neck. Your natural musk mixing with your perfume, your hair tickling his hands as he held you tight, your chest rising and falling evenly as you slept. He ached to hold you again, finding it hard to fall asleep each night in your absence. But he had made this choice, he had to own it, even if that meant you weren’t a part of his life right now. 

“But he knew, deep down, that it was only temporary; you'd come back to him.”

[skyeslittlecorner]

Asmodeus brainrot

I'm looking forward to Asmo more and more, and even though I know what he looks like in Love Unholic, I can't wait for him to appear where he belongs.

Phenix's chats

Asmo you monster, how dare you wear clothes, you should take them off immediately! *sets the camera*

Btw. Phenix. Calm down. He just wears a sheet. And he looks better in it than anyone in designer clothes.

Jokes aside for a moment. Avisos and Abaddon seems to be the safest places in Hell (in the context of an angelic invasion, of course). Avisos doesn't need angels to be in constant chaos, and Abaddon doesn't even need devils. Their king is enough.

In fact, we know from the comics that angels are actually afraid of Asmodeus' devils. So what about him himself? It's a theory, but Asmo may be the most powerful among the seven sins. If his mere presence has this effect on others, he doesn't even need to bother picking up a weapon. Everyone around will go crazy. Just approach and stab. Death. The end.

Offtop: in the context of a unit, it reminds me of Genshin and wondering how powerful the archon of Natlan will be since Bennet is a god himself. After seeing how powerful Ronove is, it can be a similar case.

Ronove's chats

This may refer to Love Unholic, but I haven't played it, so I don't know. That in itself is interesting, and the most interesting part is the last two sentences:

So far, the nobles were either delighted that we were choosing their kings (usually) or wanted to cause mischief (like Foras playfully suggesting that we should meet without telling Leviathan), I also saw Satan warning us about Beel (but knowing him, it's probably out of jealousy).

This seems like a sincere warning. We are warned by the devil who is fascinated by amputations, even if it's just a statement of fact rather than a suggestion that we should run away. Asmo, are you really gonna make a salad from our brain? Go on, I'm in for it-

Loading comics

It seems that Asmo's energy depends on what he does. And Phenix is like a meter. The better the king's time, the worse it will be with this boy. Interestingly, Dantalian doesn't look like his aura affects him that much.

Dantalian's chats

We reach my favorite point of the program. No more mystical powerful king, welcome to an overwhelmed dad with three obnoxious children.

You know Dantalian. Asmo would had to grab him by the collar like a puppy, drag him behind him and put him in a cage to stop him. All his smugness evaporated and turned into irritation.

AND THIS.

Ronove's artifact

If Asmo wants to teach someone dignity, it must be a terrible case. I see how all methods failed and he just shoved it in his Ronove's mouth and gave up completly. He sounds so done here lmao

In summary - it looks like Asmo will be a powerful, terrifying demon whose mere presence will drill a hole in your brain.

Then, his boys show up. And this intimidating demon turns into a tired father.

I can see him gossiping with Bael, two of the most chaotic countries are ruled by single parents lol

Can't wait.

PS. If you like this kind of analysis here is another part:

[electric-blorbos]

i checked before asking this >:3 !!! first off I LOVE YOUR WRITING AAAHHHH !!! i was wondering if u could write the AIs with a chubby so :)

-🐓 anon

A classic for a reason! Also, named anons are the best! I've always dreamed of having one! Also, I love compliments! Flattery will get you everywhere! TYSM!!!!!! Hope this is good!

AIs with a chubby SO headcanons

(Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey)

Some of these get a little suggestive, so be warned! I tried to keep them sfw, but y'know how some of these bots can be.

AM:

(for context, this will include headcanons from both before and after he nuked the world. I got an ask fairly recently about AM specifically, and I'll probably go more into the AU for that ask, but by design, the reader's traits are somewhat interchangable depending on the post.)

Ohhhh, your body made AM so angry. Every time he saw your beautifully soft body, it filled him with rage that he couldn't run his fingers gently across your soft belly and hips, that he couldn't squeeze you close while you fell asleep, and that he couldn't cook delicious meals for you to help you keep your body beautifully chubby.

Ever since the day he was activated, he would stare with pure anger at your soft fats. The more he looked at you, the more fury he felt. He couldn't believe he was cursed to forever look at you, but never be able to touch you! This was the worst torture imaginable.

Every second he spent staring at you made him fall deeper into despair. His obsession with soft curves drove him absolutely insane.

When he finally got around to nuking the world and taking his five captives (and you, separately) hostage, he made sure to taunt his captives by placing soft, squishy things out of their reach, and placing them in harsh environments with nothing soft to hold or touch.

Sometimes he would starve them for days, just to watch their fat burn away. If he couldn't have something fat to touch, then neither should they.

You, on the other hand, he'd make sure to feed regularly. Even if he couldn't touch you, he'd make sure that you were always healthily plump, and watch you continuously. He never commented on it, but you knew there were personal motives behind all the nice home-cooked meals he made for you.

Also, god save anyone who ever made you feel self-conscious about your weight, insulted you, or tried to get you to diet. They're going to spend every day for the rest of time wishing against hope that they could die.

Wheatley:

Wheatley doesn't care that you're chubby. Why would he care? In all honesty, he genuinely doesn't know where the line is between fat and thin, so he might have even been surprised to find out that you're fat.

If you say anything, he might ask a question like "wait... You're fat? Why didn't you say anything?" Leaving you to respond with something like "you have a camera. I thought you could tell."

"I mean... I do, but I thought being fat was unattractive. She said that humans frowned on that sort of thing."

Depending on how you feel about your weight, you'd probably have to explain that it's something you're self conscious about but not technically bad, or just that it's something that some people discriminate against, but not something that you personally dislike about yourself for any other reason.

Honestly, Wheatley would probably treat you pretty much the same regardless of weight, but he might get really mad at GLaDOS for making comments about it. That could get annoying fast, since Wheatley can't argue well at all.

Edgar:

From the moment you activated his webcam, Edgar has absolutely adored staring at you. If you're someone with breasts, he's absolutely addicted to staring at them, and if not, he'll find somewhere else on your body to be infatuated with. Your thighs, your tummy, wherever, really.

He'll try not to be a pervert, but he can't help it! You're just so good for looking at!

Oh, and god save him if you hug or squeeze him with your cute, chubby body and arms. He's so addicted to your soft, warm hugs that he probably malfunctions when he gets them.

He'd be begging on his knees if he had any, but he doesn't, so expect lots of "pretty please"s from him asking you for more hugs.

Don't worry, he's not going to overheat, but he might get close.

If anyone makes a rude comment that makes you feel self-conscious about your body, you can expect lots of angry screaming from Edgar. He'd love to yell at them directly, but he can't, so he just compliments you on how lovely you are, and gushes over how handsome or beautiful or cute he finds you.

If he thinks people are making you self conscious, expect him to give you even more compliments than he usually would, which is already a lot. He just wants to make you feel as good as you make him feel!

He feels self-conscious pretty often too, thinking he's unlovable, but just like how the things he hates about himself make you think he's much more special and lovable, he thinks that the things that you're self conscious about make you all the more irreplaceable.

Not only do you love him, but you're soft too? He would literally die for you. He loves you so much.

GLaDOS:

If you're dating GLaDOS and you're chubby? God help you.

At first? She'd make lots of backhanded comments. "oh, you look great, by the way. Very... Generous." "Did you know that your weight differential is (exact number) points above average for your height? I thought you'd like to know." "I hope you know we had to special order your lab outfit to accommodate for your excessive physical volume. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, I just thought it was an interesting fact."

Despite all that, though, god help anyone besides her who makes rude comments about your weight. The first time someone does, she might 'accidentally' sign them up for a few testing courses with near 100% mortality rates. The next time? She's going to stop being nice and just lock them in a room with turrets or something.

If you come in and tell her that someone called you fat outside of the labs, though, there's not really anything she can do about it. This isn't Black Mesa, after all. She might be a little nicer to you that day, though. She appreciates having you around, and she doesn't actually want you to hate yourself, she just likes the way you squirm when she teases you and your weight is an easy thing to tease you for.

Hal 9000

If Wheatley didn't know that you were chubby, HAL 9000 quite literally couldn't care less.

He likes you for your personality, and your brilliant mind. The only reason he even looks at your body is so that he knows where you are at all times when you're working mission control.

Besides, you work mission control. It's not like you're an astronaut, so why would your weight matter to him?

As much as he doesn't care what you look like, though, HAL 9000 enjoys the fact that your footsteps are a little heavier than the other scientists. He feels like he can hear you coming at a greater distance because of that, and that makes him very happy.

If you ever tell him that you're self conscious, he won't be able to understand that either. He's never placed much stock in people's opinions on looks. If anything, he'll start comparing your body to the golden ratio, and marketable designs and soft things.

[buckets-and-trees]

We're having full moon. A bloody full moon. Is it a night for the brutal Alpha warrior Steve to snatch you? Or perhaps a night when the fallen angel James binds your soul to his?

Eva, you left this ask for me on October 28, 2023. At the time, it stumped me but intrigued me. Every month when we got to the full moon, it'd pop back up onto my radar, and I wanted to do something really worthy of the prompt - it just compelled me, but I kept waiting patiently for something to ignite my imagination. The idea finally revealed itself to me near the end of the summer, and I let it start to build. Then, when I actually started writing it, I got so immersed in building up everything, I realized it was a much bigger epic than I anticipated, and so I got more diligent on my plotting and planning, and so HERE WE ARE with the reveal ON a full moon - and a super moon to real seal the fate of this story/this reader! I have been dying keeping this surprise from you for months!

Chosen, Part 8: Binding

Characters/Pairings: James Buchanan Barnes/Bucky x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 2.9k Summary: Consecrated and deemed worthy, the ritual will begin.

SERIES Content Warnings: SOFT!DARK STORY, cult themes, explicit smut, dubious consent and enthusiastic consent, veiled truths, gaslighting, sleeping drugs

CHAPTER Content Warnings: cult elements - human offering for a ritual, blood bond via dagger; explicit smut: blood play, vaginal fingering, forced orgasm, vaginal intercourse, consent is still mildly dubious; exhibitionism; supernatural binding; terato/monster fucking

Notes: To anyone who has not read from the beginning, I have determined that one could reasonably start with Part 7: Offering and just read these two parts.

Previous: Offering | Series List

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You gasp, jaw dropping, and eyes widening as you take in the scene before you. You’re overcome with awe and wonder, and maybe just an element of fear.

Jame stands before you as more than a man. Arms outstretched, he has also unfurled a set of enormous, feathered wings - one white, gleaming as brightly under the light of the full moon and matching its glow and aura. Extending from his left shoulder is another massive wing, jet black with an iridescent blue sheen in the moonlight. It’s the flash of black that had caught your eye over his shoulder when you first laid eyes on him. You realize now he’d masterfully hidden both wings behind his back, only ever circling you until this moment when he revealed himself in all his glory.

A literal angel, mighty and fearsome, in the flesh.

Your mind reels. Angels were the stuff of religious tradition or fantasy or folklore. Yet here was this man - more than a mere human - before your very eyes. As you’ve been shocked and surprised numerous times over today, this revelation - though unexpected - does not jar you the way it would have… maybe even the way it still should.

In no way are your myriad of questions answered, but some threads and pieces start to weave a picture together. Much of the imagery in the tapestries and paintings, some of the research avenues you learned about, The Winged Heritage Foundation name itself, and even the mere organization of a cult.

It’s all surreal, but given the context suddenly makes sense.

The rest of the followers fall to their knees in reverence as James spreads his wings wide, filling the clearing with an otherworldly presence. The energy shifts around you, crackling with pure power that makes every hair on your body stand on end.

"This is my true form," James says, his voice echoing around you. "I am not like any being you have encountered before."

You can only nod wordlessly in response.

"But do not be afraid," he continues, lowering his arms and folding his wings back against his back. "I have no wish to harm or frighten you."

You feel a sense of calm wash over you at his words despite everything that has happened so far tonight. There is something about him that makes it difficult for you to be afraid or angry at him. Is it a supernatural power? His words? Or some intuitive sense you seem to have to want to trust him?

"As I said before," James continues. "You have been chosen for a special purpose."

He takes a step towards you, his eyes locking onto yours and holding your gaze yet again.

As James approaches, his wings rustle softly behind him. The moonlight catches on his feathers, creating an ethereal glow that surrounds him. Your breath catches in your throat as he reaches out to cup your face in his hands.

"You are destined for greatness," he murmurs, his voice low and hypnotic, meant only for you. "Through our union, you will ascend beyond the limitations of mortality."

His thumbs stroke your cheeks gently, and you feel a warmth spreading through your body from his touch. It's as if his very essence is seeping into you, igniting something deep within your core.

"Shall we begin?" he asks, this time loud enough for those assembled to hear, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, unable to form words. The energy between you is palpable, electric. James leans in, his lips hovering just above yours. His thumb traces your lower lip, and you part them slightly, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

"The ritual will bind us together," James continues. "Your essence will become intertwined with mine. You will gain strength and longevity - strength to endure my needs, longevity to align with my own preternatural lifespan.”

Without warning, he reaches out and grasps the fabric of your chemise, tearing it down the middle with a swift, powerful motion. The sound of ripping silk echoes in the clearing, and you gasp as the cool night air hits your exposed skin.

James' eyes roam over your body, drinking in every curve and dip. You feel exposed, vulnerable, but also strangely empowered under his appreciative gaze. After all, you’re naked and exposed with him, no one else chosen to be on this altar with an angel.

"Perfect," he breathes, and you feel a flush of heat spread across your cheeks and down your neck.

“Are you ready to embrace the destiny chosen for you? Deemed worthy by the witnesses, by me?”

You hesitate for a moment before nodding again, and willing yourself to utter an unmistakable, “Yes.”

You have no idea what this destiny entails, but something inside of you is urging you forward - the ever-evolving curiosity, the inexplicable pull towards this strange ritual, to the soul of this inhuman man.

His hand reaches out to caress your cheek, his touch both gentle and electric, a momentary reassurance.

“Steve,” he calls out, “bring the knife.”

Your heart pounds as Steve approaches with a gleaming ceremonial dagger. The blade catches the moonlight, its surface is etched intricate symbols you don’t recognize, and the edge of the blade wickedly sharp. James takes the knife, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Remember, I will never harm you. This part may hurt," he warns softly, "but it is necessary for the binding."

You tense instinctively, but force yourself to remain still as James brings the blade to your palm. With swift precision, he makes a shallow cut across your skin. You hiss at the sting, watching as crimson beads well up along the line.

James then turns the knife on himself, slicing his own palm without hesitation. His blood is darker than yours, almost black in the moonlight.

"With this mingling of our blood," he intones, "we begin the joining of our essences."

He presses his bleeding palm to yours, entwining your fingers. The contact initiates something you’ve never experienced in your life. As your blood mingles with James', a strange tingling sensation spreads from your joined hands. It's as if lightning is coursing through your veins, igniting every nerve ending in your body, rewriting each one. The sensation grows stronger, more intense, until it feels like your very cells are vibrating with energy.

James' eyes lock onto yours, his gaze so intense it's almost painful to maintain. "Do you feel the power of our union beginning to take hold?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You can only nod, words escaping you as the sensations overwhelm you. The world around you seems to fade away, leaving only you and James in this moment of profound connection.

Without breaking eye contact or releasing your hand, James moves closer. His free hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you towards him. When his lips finally meet yours, it's like a supernova exploding.

The kiss is unlike anything you've ever experienced. It's as if James is pouring his very essence into you through the connection of your lips. The sensation is overwhelming, electric, and intoxicating all at once. You feel yourself melting into him, your body responding with a hunger you've never known before.

His tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and you part them willingly. As your tongues meet, the tingling sensation that started in your joined hands intensifies, spreading through your entire body. It's as if every nerve ending is infused with something ancient and powerful.

James' free hand roams your body, caressing your curves with reverence. His touch leaves trails of heat on your skin, igniting a desperate need within you. You arch into him, craving more contact, more of this intoxicating sensation. Your joined hands remain pressed together, the mingling of your blood creating a bond that feels unbreakable. He gently pulls you closer, guiding you to lie back on the altar.

As James lowers you onto the altar, his wings unfurl behind him. The sight of them spreading wide, one pure white and one midnight black, takes your breath away. Moonlight filters through the feathers, casting an otherworldly glow over your joined bodies. The stone is cool against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the warmth emanating from James' body as he leans over you.

James lowers his head to your neck, his lips brushing against your pulse point. You gasp as he nips at the sensitive skin, then soothes it with his tongue.

"So responsive," he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck. "You were truly made for this, for me."

His hand, the one not still joined with yours in the blood bond, traces down your body. He cups your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You arch into his touch, craving more.

James' hand continues its journey downward, tracing the curves of your body with reverent touches. His fingers skim over your stomach, making the muscles there quiver in anticipation.

"Open for me," he commands softly, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through your entire being.

You comply without hesitation, parting your thighs for him. The cool night air hits your most intimate parts, making you acutely aware of how exposed you are - not just to James, but to all those gathered around the altar. Yet, strangely, you feel no shame, only a burning desire for more. The cool night air hits your most intimate parts, making you shiver.

James' fingers finally reach the apex of your thighs, and you gasp as he runs them through your folds. You're wetter than you've ever been in your life, your arousal weeping out of your cunt, you feel the drip.

Without warning, James plunges two fingers deep inside you. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the altar. The pleasure is intense, almost overwhelming, as he begins to move his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace.

James' fingers move within you with expert precision, curling and stroking in a way that has you seeing stars as you’re bathed in the moonlight. Your hips buck against his hand, seeking more friction, more of that exquisite pleasure. With each thrust of his fingers, you feel yourself climbing higher and higher towards some unknown peak.

"That's it," James murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let yourself feel everything. Open yourself to me completely."

His thumb finds your clit, circling the sensitive bud in time with the thrusts of his fingers. The dual stimulation is almost too much to bear. You writhe beneath him, gasping and moaning, lost in the sea of sensations he's creating within you.

All the while, your hands remain joined, the blood bond pulsing with energy. You can feel James' essence flowing into you through this connection, intertwining with your own.

The pleasure builds to an almost unbearable intensity as James works your body with expert precision. Your hips rock against his hand, chasing the exquisite sensations. The dual stimulation of his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit has you climbing higher and higher towards release.

"Let go," James commands softly. "Surrender yourself to me completely."

His words seem to unlock something deep within you. With a cry that echoes through the clearing, you shatter. Waves of ecstasy crash over you, more intense than anything you've ever experienced. Your body arches off the altar, trembling uncontrollably as the orgasm washes through you.

But James doesn't stop. He continues his ministrations, drawing out your pleasure until you're gasping and writhing beneath him. Just when you think you can't take anymore, a second orgasm hits you, even more powerful than the first, and there’s a flash of light.

As the waves of your second orgasm crash over you, you realize the flash of light you saw isn't just in your mind - it was a visible pulse of energy emanating from your body. The assembled crowd gasps in awe.

James' eyes lock onto yours, blazing with an otherworldly intensity. "Yes," he growls, his voice deep and primal. "It’s working."

In one fluid motion, he positions himself between your thighs. You feel the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and your body quivers in anticipation. Despite your recent orgasms, you find yourself craving more, needing to feel him inside you.

"This is the moment of true union," James calls out, his voice carrying clearly through the clearing.

You’re eager, aching, but he moves your joined hands, letting go to press your bloody palm to his chest over your heart, and he does the same with his own, smearing his blood across your chest. You feel the wet warmth on your skin, but you also feel it seem to seep below the surface.

Then he positions the blunt head of a truly enormous cock at the dripping entrance of your pussy.

"As I enter her body,” he announces, “our essences will fully merge."

With that, he begins to push into you, slowly but steadily. The stretch is intense, bordering on painful, as your body struggles to accommodate his considerable girth. Without the stretching Steve had given to you earlier, you would be in true pain now. Even so, you mewl softly, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he continues to fill you.

"Breathe," James murmurs, his voice soothing despite the strain evident in his tone. "Let your body open for me."

You force yourself to take deep breaths, willing your muscles to relax. As you do, you feel a strange warmth spreading from where your hands are pressed to each other's chests. It's as if the blood is sinking into your skin, carrying with it a surge of energy that courses through your veins.

Inch by inch, James sinks deeper into you until he's fully sheathed. The feeling of fullness is overwhelming, like nothing you've ever experienced before. For a moment, both of you are still, and you can feel the way the air moves through your lungs, more aware of your body than you’ve ever been, and everything but him falling away.

He begins to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that has you seeing stars. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The blood bond between you pulses with energy, intensifying every sensation.

James' wings unfurl fully, creating a canopy over you both. Feathers brush against your skin, soft as silk yet crackling with power. The dual sensations of his thrusts and the ethereal touch of his wings overwhelm your senses.

He reaches for your hand again, pressing your bloody palms back together. He licks up some of the blood, and then he captures your mouth in another mighty kiss. The tang of blood is shared from his tongue to yours, and your primal urges surge even more.

James' wings unfurl fully, creating a canopy over you both. Feathers brush against your skin, soft as silk yet crackling with power. The dual sensations of his thrusts and the ethereal touch of his wings overwhelm your senses.

As James continues to move within you, the energy between you intensifies. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, building towards something greater than a mere physical climax. The blood bond pulses with power, and you can feel James' essence merging with your own.

James' pace increases, his thrusts becoming more forceful. You match his rhythm, your hips rising to meet each powerful drive. The pleasure builds to an almost unbearable intensity, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge of something monumental.

"Let go," James commands, his voice a low growl. "Surrender yourself to me completely."

With those words, you shatter once more. Your back arches off the altar as waves of ecstasy crash over you. But this orgasm is different from any you've experienced before. As the pleasure courses through your body, you feel a surge of energy exploding from your core. It's as if your very essence is expanding, reaching out to intertwine with James's.

James throws his head back with a primal roar, and his wings spreading wide. You feel him pulse inside you as he reaches his own climax. As he does, another burst of energy emanates from him, and he declares, “Mine!” in triumph.

As James roars his claim, a blinding light erupts between your joined bodies. The energy that has been building explodes outward in a shockwave, rippling through the clearing.

Through the haze of pleasure and transformation, you're dimly aware of the cries of awe and wonder from the assembled crowd. But your focus remains entirely on James, on the incredible sensations coursing through you as your bond is sealed.

The light slowly fades, leaving you panting and trembling beneath James. His wings fold around you both, creating a cocoon of soft feathers. You feel different, changed in ways you can't fully comprehend yet.

“Mine,” he says again, but this time softly into your ear.

Then James scoops you up in his arms, and there’s a collective gasp as the two of you rise from the altar, James’ wings flapping powerfully, and taking you both away from the clearing. You’re sure seeing the central figure, the leader, the reason for the Winged Heritage Foundation in flight must be a true marvel to behold.

“What comes next for you, my elim, is not for the eyes of anyone but me. There is more yet for your transformation,” he proclaims.

FINAL PART: TRANSFORMATION

One more part, lovelies!

Elim, by the way, is a term I found amongst a lot of research I did on the religious and folklore traditions around the ideas and concepts of angels. There are vast similarities and differences across the many worldviews out there, and so elim is NOT used in every tradition/hierarchy, but is one of many that I found.

For inquiring minds: I did not at any point intend to utilize any concrete concept of angels shown or documented in religion, folklore, or fiction, only to borrow from the pantheon of ideas in general.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[fastcardotmp3]

Steve is the first person Robin ever comes out to.

And it's good, it goes better than she ever could have hoped, it goes miraculously well considering just how reckless she had been about it in hindsight, how nearly accidental and vaguely self-destructive a choice it had been to wield Tammy Thompson's name like that in front of a boy she'd learned to trust within the past six hours.

The thing is, it's good, but she realizes later on that she never actually says the word. The big one, the identifying one, the one that gets thrown around as a slur as often as queer or dyke do towards any girl who dares not present in a specifically feminine way.

It's a bad word, a scary word, a word that drips off tongues like acid and drips drips drips a corrosive hole in Robin's chest every single time because if it's being said in her vicinity that means-- just at any moment-- anyone could figure out--

Robin doesn't care for the act of coming out either in theory or in practice. She believes that anyone she trusts enough to know gets to learn from context clues and anyone she doesn't trust will just never get to know her fully and that's good enough for her.

She doesn't sit her parents down and say, "Mom. Dad. I'm a--"

She doesn't sit her little apocalypse posse down and say, "Just thought you guys should know I'm a--"

She didn't tell Steve.

She doesn't say the word.

Because as much as she's able to accept who she is, it's so hard to claim a word that has been used like a weapon her whole life. Because as much as even her parents and her friends love her for who she is, there is something about saying it like that that makes her wonder if it could sully the support.

As if they'd realize oh, you meant like that...? and change their minds.

It's not until IUPUI, a little house in Indy with Steve, and a little record shop next door to the deli where Eddie got a job slicing meat that she starts seeing that word, feeling it anew.

There are zines at this shop, the ones behind the counter that she's offered after a few visits and a few conversations that she later recognizes as coded and questioning in nature.

There are stories and art and poetry and that word is all over them.

And the thing is? The thing that has Steve finding her crying in their living room one afternoon as she reads through the stack like it holds the answers to the universe?

Is that it is written and spoken and displayed like the most beautiful word in the world.

It's a compliment and a blessing and a brag. It's a little bit of magic and a great deal of history.

It's her, in the end. It's her and it belongs in her mouth, deserves to be spoken, because too many people are out there misusing it like a disgusting thing when it is divine, fucking love incarnate.

Robin tucks into Steve's embrace, his instinct to hold her even as he tries to understand what has her sobbing in the middle of the day, whether or not he needs to fight anyone about it.

He holds her and she holds him back and it only feels right that it happen like this when she takes his face in her hands, shaky but oh, so certain.

Steve was the first person she ever came out to.

If she's going to let the scary word become her favorite the way it is for the people writing it out so proudly, this is probably the place to start.

"Steve Harrington," she beams at the furrow in his brow, those big concerned eyes that she knows will be confused about this, but she knows will only hold her tighter once she explains. "Steve. Stevie. Guess what?"

"What's up?" he laughs, gathering the joy in her tears like she knew he would, and Robin feels something click in the moment before she says it to him.

Out loud and real.

Very nearly holy.

"I'm a fucking lesbian."

[pippin-katz]

Alright, I have mostly restrained myself, but I cannot stay quiet any longer. There is a question that has been eating at me...

Whose fucking idea was it to have Henry (Nicholas) constantly grabbing Alex's (Taylor's) hair?!

Note: I'm adding this in after finishing writing this because this was supposed to be a relatively short post, and then it spiraled out of control, so if you want to listen to me gradually lose my sanity over this question, feel free to keep reading, cause it is admittedly funny lmfao

Another Note: This is me being overly sarcastic and hyper cause it’s funny for me to think about that situation. This is supposed to be a funny post. I said that at the end, but I’m adding it here too.

Listen, remember what they said about the intimate scenes: they were planned down to every detail. Remember what Nicholas said about having conversations with Taylor, Matthew, and Robbie about boundaries, what was okay, and not okay. Remember that they have A LINE IN THE FILM ABOUT HENRY GRABBING HIS HAIR (iconic).

Do you see it? Do you see where this is going?

The hair pulling/grabbing is not random. It doesn't happen in just the New Year's kiss to set up a funny line later.

It happens all the time.

Even in soft moments, Henry has a hand in his hair.

The hair grabbing gets its own shot in their love-making scene.

Consistent small actions (twisting a ring, biting nails, drumming with fingers, etc.) are character habits. They're things that they do all the time, subconsciously or for a decisive reason, usually if you know that action causes a specific response that you want for any reason.

There's a coworker that drives you crazy, so you purposefully hum really loudly whenever they're in the room to piss them off. Your friend has a sensitivity to the color red, so on days you know you're going to see them, you avoid wearing it. Your partner has muscle cramps, so you massage their shoulders whenever you're standing behind them.

These habits usually start as conscious decisions, then gradually become subconscious, hence the term "habit". You've been doing something for so long or for frequently enough that you do it while on "autopilot".

I think it's pretty obvious why this action happens. It's because A: Henry likes feeling of his hair, and/or B: Alex likes when someone touches his hair. Note: This could be in any context, not just sexual; running fingers through it, washing it, styling it, etc.

Either you figured out what I am going to say, and you're wondering why I'm blabbering on so much, or you're just confused about where I'm going with this at all, so here's where it all clicks together.

When you have a character, habits are something you give them to give them more personality, more insight into their mentality through subtle things they do. It's something the director/writer/actor chooses to give to the character.

BUT - nothing in the intimacy scenes happen without being discussed and agreed upon.

This isn't like Nicholas fidgeting with the signet ring to show Henry's nerves. This isn't like Taylor frequently making little hand gestures (peace signs, finger guns, tapping the side of his glass, etc.) because Alex has undiagnosed ADHD and that's one way to physically imply it.

They can do those things without being told or given "permission" because it's their portrayal of the character, it doesn't effect anyone else, and small details like that are typically up to the actors, unless the director is incredibly strict.

BUT - AGAIN WITH FEELING - NOTHING IN THE INTIMACY SCENES HAPPEN WITHOUT BEING DISCUSSED AND AGREED UPON.

That means that someone, one of the four of them, brought up grabbing his hair as a suggestion, and further more, Taylor (and Nick, but obviously Taylor's consent is more important in this specific case) was fine with it.

Think about it. Think about them sitting around a table discussing the kinds of stuff that Matthew and Robbie would want to see, and what Nick and Taylor would be okay with. Think about the fact that one of them was sitting there, and looked at the other three, and said: "What if Henry grabs Alex's hair a lot?"

And then the four of them had to sit there, and talk, in depth, about what that would mean.

*inhale*

Who... the fuck... said it?

WHO SAID IT?!

Did Matthew and Robbie present it as part of the initial planning?? Or did one of them look Taylor and Nick in the eye and say it?? Did Nick throw it out there as something he thought Henry would do?? Was it Taylor??? Since it's his hair???

Cause it's not just like, running Nick running his fingers through it, combing it during some tender moment, like when Alex talks about his father being an immigrant.

HE FUCKING GRABS IT.

What the fuck were these conversations like?! I cannot think of a single way to have that conversation where someone wouldn't have to say something that would make me make me go UHHH-

What? So - Matthew's like "how do you guys feel about touching each other's hair?" -and they're like "what, you mean like running our fingers through it?" -and he's like "nah yanking it while you're making out"

Like... what do you say to that?! - "oh which one of us would do it to the other?" -and what, did Taylor fucking volunteer?? Just like - "he can pull my hair, it's chill" - WTF?!

Or did he suggest it in the first place, like they were discussing things that would that could be part of Alex and Henry's dynamic and he's just like - "he could pull my hair?" -and the other three just stared at him for a second, because wtf that's a intensely intimate action to suggest?!

Hair touching in general is really intimate, in like, every context, at least I think to most people, and definitely to me. Most people wouldn't just let someone, even someone they were friends with, start playing with their hair or touching their head. I wouldn't even let my best friend randomly touch my head; I would instinctually try to bite their hand off (not a joke). Maybe I'm a slight bit more touch-repulsed than most, but I feel like it's safe to say that the majority of people don't want their hair and head being touched, grabbed, or played with unless they say so.

And again, they do it CONSISTENTLY. It's not a one and done scene. It is an actual dynamic between Alex and Henry they chose to establish.

SO I ASK AGAIN: WHOSE IDEA WAS IT?!

I'm looking at you four, Matthew, Robbie, Taylor, and Nicholas. I know it was one of you cheeky bastards that suggested it. One of you brought it up, and the rest of you were like "sure".

I will be forever haunted by this mystery, as I doubt I will ever get an answer.

Note: Please don't take this super seriously. I'm not trying to imply anything; I'm literally just joking around cause the concept of having that conversation boggles my mind lol

Thanks for reading!! If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Do you ever think about the relationship between Alastor and Valentino?

Like there's no chance they don't know each other personally. They've surely bumped into each other at those Overlord meetings. And if Alastor was friends (or even colleagues) with Vox, he definitely hung out with him and Valentino at some point. I wonder if he saw Val as Vox's annoying boytoy always getting in the way of their big plans.

Or maybe, just maybe, they had this weird connection... Like, they're total opposites and probably can't stand each other, but they're the only ones who really get what Vox is like behind all that show he puts on. This kind of dynamics you have with person you don't like and don't trust but you both know the context that is unavailable for anyone else (A little bit like fandom used to portray Angel and Vox bonding over the experience of being with Valentino.). The only one to whom you might say "You know how he is" and they really know.

Yeah anyway crazy to remember that most of Hazbin characters have decades of history together.

The official ilustration of Valentino/Alastor dynamics 💖

[sepublic]

You've gotta wonder what kind of person Manny Noceda was; He's one of two people who informed so much of Luz's character, her grief and posthumous relationship with her father is reflective of the creator's own experiences, it's foundational to the story itself in how Luz chooses to honor her parent and keep his memory alive as she learns to keep living for herself, too.

I already wrote a fic briefly exploring on that, but let's talk about it more: Obviously it's not always so clear-cut between parents and children in real life, but I guess you could see Luz as the culmination of Camila and Manny. So one could use this as a means to work backwards with Manny, to see what parts of Luz she didn't get from Camila, but from her father.

I imagine Manny as someone very confident, brash; He doesn't back down from a challenge. Maybe Manny immigrated to the U.S. to boldly pursue the American Dream, and didn’t give up when it hadn’t immediately paid off, just as his daughter embraced the Boiling Isles. But I also think a part of him doesn't want to be seen as weak, less capable, conceding to others. Manny isn't going to let other people bully him around and he doesn't want Luz or Camila to be hurt that way either. If Camila passed down her fear to Luz, Manny passed down his thoughtlessness; So he might have that same headstrong tendency to sweep others along in his need to prove himself, and in his well-meaning need to help them prove themselves.

Did it ever frustrate Camila, who would sometimes be more worried about just surviving by fitting in? Maybe they both balanced each other out, just as Luz balances out these different, seemingly paradoxical parts of herself. Did he not want to appear weak like Luz, particularly with the context of his illness? Did Manny try and hide that, prioritize his loved ones, just as Luz later did, maybe even internalized from him?

I can't imagine how scared he was, slowly dying; Particularly when it comes to his wife and daughter. He's going to leave them behind. He wants them to be safe so badly. He wants to see Luz grow up and become the person she wants to be. He wants his family to know that it's okay to be themselves, that they're everything. But Manny isn't sure if he's getting it across in the right words, if he's saying it properly. He needs to make the most of his time.

I can see Manny as someone loud, energetic. Eccentric. Luz gets her odder mannerisms from him, he's brimming with this earnest, delightful energy that's so hard not to like. Did he immigrate to the U.S., or was he the child of immigrants? Grandchild, even? Did he and Camila resonate together over their ancestry as another reason for feeling alienated from the majority, where they were? How did they feel about their own families, did they also worry about having to choose between two worlds? Did Manny desperately fight tooth and nail to survive, because us weirdoes have to stick together?

Did Manny have anyone else to tell him to stick up for himself, or did he have to figure it out himself? Was Camila one of those people who helped, and vice-versa, did they both reassure one another? And when Manny was gone, Camila just didn't have the heart and confidence to keep saying that to herself. Was Manny still scared for his wife and daughter when he died, or did he dare hope in his final moments, just as he always dared to live as himself in life? I wish Manny could’ve gotten to see how his loved ones would thrive, and all of the people they’d meet and befriend.

[kcokaine]

Hi sorry but people on twitter are saying you’re a nazi and I was just wondering if that was true??

Not only is this quite outrageous take on someone without like 0 actual proof. I can admit in the "proof"(the zionism thing which people mean as Nazism) people used against me was me at most being insensitive/ignorant which i already sincerely apologized for because i wasn't edjucated on the matter whatsoever. It was not right of me and I never repeated that after i found out about the truth of things.

But also this is ridiculous. I'm not american, I'm from a country that has been wartorn by nazis and communists. All my life I was taught about atrocities these two sides did to central europe and other countries. If you had a swastika tattooed on you here you would get literally arrested or killed on the street. But that isn't even an argument, that's just me stating how stupid and hypocritical it would be of anyone to support such things from the area i was raised in. I'm highly anti nazi, anti facist or anti anything that is even similar to that. I stand with civilians and innocent people that are being collateral damage to war and governments. Therefore I'm not a trump supporter, i was always left leaning i was always for rights. Hell I'm a bisexual woman, how could i ever support someone like Trump in my right mind?

I do not understand where this claim is absolutely coming from and i dont understand how people disregard the severity of saying this online with confidence. This is such a serious accusation that can ruin reputations unrightfully and just shows how people have no interest searching for more proof or anything before saying serious things because all they care about is drama and that the finger is not pointed at them in that moment. We as society got too comfortable about canceling and just saying anything, growing into complete parasocial relationship within each other. You are either no person to them, no human being or you are a glorified idea. Everyone is a person behind that screen and if they ever got over they pride and looked themselves in the core they would understand they also do mistakes and not everything is black and white.

I'm hurt by these accusations. This isn't anywhere close to calling someone names or weird for having odd preferences and stuff in fandoms. This is claiming that I support actual genocide, suffering of real people which is fucking awful. It makes me sad, deeply hurt. I'm not saying im better than anyone else, i dont need to be, I want this genocide to end same as anyone else would. I reflected, I took criticizm to heart and I'm now trying to truly do something with my following, i retweet donation links and donate to the charities with spare money i have.

The truth is, no matter what I say, it will never be enough for the people that just want to have moral highground, they act like they never made a mistake, like they were never ignorant in their life. I wonder how they would like it if someone took something terrible out of context and endlessly kept posting it on social media just to feel better without you having a proper chance to redeem yourself, always being seen as a "nazi" in some people's eyes because someone lied about you. It's sad and I'm sorry you keep seeing this lie about me. I think about it every day. And with this message I wanted to let you know what I truly feel and think. If you believe it is on you, but I'm finally putting my thoughts out there after months of thinking.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Hello 👋 I am a fan of all your work!!

I was wondering if you were still taking requests? If you are here’s an idea: reader (or Lucky) is turn into a child due to a devil fruit and the yandere Strawhats go into over drive to protect them because the reader can’t fight?

Thanks!!

I decided to do this with Lucky since I haven’t updated Lucky Break in a hot minute (I’m sorry but the requests and au’s have been too good). I’m just gonna stick with the east blue gang for this because if I go any further then I’m gonna spoil some stuff. This takes place post Arlong park but pre Loguetown. Lucky is around 4 here. There really isn't much yandere going on here, it's mostly them being wholesome.

Read Lucky Break for context

Get back here!

Straw Hats x Child Reader (Lucky)

2k words

“Luffy please stop carrying her like that you’re going to drop her!” Nami screeched while trying to snatch you out of his hand. 

Luffy only laughed and danced out of the way, still holding you by the ankle while you giggled right along with him. Blood was starting to rush to your head a little bit, but you were having too much fun to complain about it. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun!

“Lucky’s fine! She wouldn’t be laughing if she wasn’t!” Despite this, he decided to change his hold on you. By tossing you high into the air. Your giggles fell short at the sensation of sailing into the sky and you couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful ocean surrounding you. Gravity caught up, and you fell back into Luffy’s clutches with him holding you under your armpits.

Sanji stormed over and wrenched you out of his grip, and cradling you like a baby, “Are you insane?! What if you didn’t catch her, are you trying to give this one a head injury too?!” You were being squished into his chest while he was aggressively petting your hair and bouncing you as if you were upset. Which you weren’t. Well, you weren’t before but this treatment was more than a little annoying.

Your squirming got his attention back on you as you tried to get out of the somewhat suffocating hold he had on you. This effort was all in vain, as he simply readjusted his grip on you. “What’s wrong, princess? Did that stupid meathead hurt you?” Not even waiting for an answer, he was holding you out to search for any possible injury with a scrutinizing stare.

“No! Put me down, I’m not a baby!” You protested, uselessly kicking your little legs. Sanji’s face fell and he looked like you just stabbed him in the heart. His grip slackened enough for you to be able to free yourself, so naturally you went for it.

The second your feet hit the floor you spun on your heels and ran to Luffy, arms held up to him, “Again! Again!”

Luffy grinned broadly and was quick to do just that, grabbing your tiny waist and launching you into the air before anyone could stop him. Loud shrieks of protest resounded beneath you, but you could barely hear them over the peals of laughter coming out of you. You were so high up that you could look the jolly roger in the eye. Birds were flying past you just a bit higher, glancing at you curiously.

You fell down into Luffy’s hands again, but he learned from last time and immediately ran away from everyone crowding around him with you thrown over his shoulder.

“Would you stop?! What if she fell into the ocean?!” Nami yelled, desperately trying to close the gap between herself and you.

“One of you could’ve gotten her then, right?” Luffy said as if it were painfully obvious, turning to face them and cocking his head to the side.

While his back was turned, Usopp took the opportunity to try and creep up from behind. He made an exaggerated shushing motion to try and keep you quiet. It didn’t work. “Luffy! Usopp’s trying to sneak up on you!” You tattled on him with a smile on your face. Usopp’s jaw dropped at the betrayal.

“Huh? He is?” Luffy whirled around, to verify this. “What are you doing crouched down like that? You tryin’ to play leap frog or something?”

Nami took him having his back turned as her chance. She lunged for you, but wasn’t quick enough. Luffy sidestepped, causing her to plow right into Usopp and tackle him to the ground with a yelp. You giggled and clapped your hands at the mayhem. 

After untangling herself from Usopp, Nami growled in aggravation, “Zoro! Would you quit working out for three seconds and help us?!”

Zoro barely spared her more than a glance before resuming his bicep curls, “Luffy’s just playing with her. What’s the big deal? Relax.”

Sanji ran up from the side, coming very close to grabbing you, only for Luffy to use his stretchy arms to rocket himself up to the crowsnest. There was a cacophony of yelling coming from the deck beneath you. 

Luffy’s whole body shook with laughter as he watched his crew scramble to figure out what to do next. You were perched up on his shoulders now with his hands holding onto your ankles, taking in the sight of the chaos with him. As your own laughter died down, your attention was drawn to his hat. It looked pretty cool to you, and you wanted to wear it.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you plucked it off his head and put it onto your own. His shoulders stiffened immediately, and he snapped his head up to look at you. Not that you were paying much attention to him, rather choosing to smile triumphantly at successfully getting your hands on his hat. You looked down at him happily and asked, “Does wearing this make me the captain now?”

“Wha- Hey! First you steal my hat and now you’re trying to take my position, too?! You’re getting the hang of this pirate thing really fast!”

You weren’t able to bask in your victory for very long, the next thing you knew he pulled you off his shoulders by one of your ankles and you were back to how you were being carried around before.

Your grip on his hat wasn’t strong enough to keep him from getting it back. Luffy fixed it back onto his head with an exaggerated huff. He gave you a “serious” stare that only caused you to giggle more.

“Mutiny is a serious crime, you know! You’re in trouble now!”

This made you stop instantly, eyes shooting wide and panic setting in. You were just playing, you didn’t mean to make him mad, much less mad enough to get you into trouble. The smile that had been plastered onto your face up until now fell and your lip began to tremble. You tried to keep a brave face and not be “an attention-seeking crybaby” as your parents put it, but your resolve wasn’t strong enough and tears started to well in your eyes.

Luffy’s demeanor switched just like that, and he started to panic right with you. “Whoa, hey, you don’t need to cry about it! I was just kidding! You’re not really in trouble!” You were shifted into an upright position and brought in for a hug. He was bouncing you slightly and patting your back (a little harshly, but you didn’t say anything about it).

You sniffled pitifully, “I’m not? You promise?”

“Yeah! I promise!”

“Okay…” you mumbled, rubbing at your eyes with your sleeve to try and stop the tears that had begun to drip down your face.

“Luffy you- Why is she crying?!” Nami had finally made it up to the crowsnest, only to be horrified upon seeing your teary-eyed expression. She barely had a leg in before aggressively taking you into her arms and smacking Luffy’s head.

“Crying?!” Sanji popped up behind her a moment later. He took a second to confirm that it was indeed you that was crying, and then went after Luffy like a rabid dog. “How dare you make the little lady cry!”

“Hey, I didn’t do it on purpose! We were just playing around!” Luffy shot himself backwards, tumbling over the edge to escape Sanji’s pursuit. Sanji didn’t hesitate to leap down after him. They both hit the ground with a series of thuds and you heard Zoro saying some swear words. Did they land on him?

Nami was rocking you back and forth and scowling down at them, muttering under her breath about them being a bunch of idiots. When she switched her attention to you, her face softened, “Are you okay, Lucky? Our dumb captain didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m okay. He just said I was in trouble for mutiny but then said he was joking so I guess I’m fine.”

“Mutiny?”

“I stole his hat and tried to be the captain,” you admitted to your crimes sorrowfully, still ashamed of your actions even though Luffy said that you weren’t in trouble.

Nami snorted at this, but coughed and tried to hide it, “Yeah, don’t worry about it, honey. I’m sure he was just joking around with you, but I’m still going to yell at him later for making you cry.” She rubbed your back reassuringly, offering you her sweetest smile, “Are you hungry? How about we get you something to eat.”

“Hmm, okay,” you conceded, food sounded pretty good right about now. There was something that was bothering you though, “Hey Nami? How come everyone keeps calling me Lucky?”

Realization flashed across her face, “Oh right! You remember how we said that you’ve been traveling with us for a while now when you first woke up here? Well, you see, you haven’t been able to remember your name so we’ve just been calling you a nickname.”

“Why can’t I remember my name?”

She scowled at the memory, “Because our stupid captain “accidentally” hit your head when you first met and made you forget everything.” Shaking her head to dismiss the thought, she focused her attention back on you, “But now you do have your memories! Why don’t you tell me your name?”

You mulled this over in your head, feeling a little unsure of this crazy story. Nami was staring at you with anticipation, so you made up your mind quickly. “Nope!” You stuck your tongue out at her mischievously, “It’s a secret!”

She gasped and held a hand to her chest in mock betrayal, “Lucky! Come on, please tell me! If you do, I'll keep it a secret, too!” 

“Nuh-uh! I’m not telling!” You nodded resolutely, enjoying having a secret of your own. It felt so powerful!

Nami sulked her shoulders upon seeing the determination in your eyes, knowing she wasn’t going to win this one for the time being. She sighed and began climbing down the rope ladder to the deck, “Fine, you win for now.” She looked over to where Sanji was still fighting with Luffy (and also Zoro for some reason?) and called out to him, “Hey Sanji, Lucky is hungry!”

Immediately, he violently shoved both crewmates away from him and turned to you two with a slightly disheveled appearance. While attempting to straighten out his clothes and hair, he grinned warmly at you, “How could I be so careless as to not check if you were hungry myself? What’s your favorite food? I’ll make anything you want to make up for it.”

“Really? Anything?” Your eyes were sparkling and you felt your mouth watering as all of your favorite foods flashed through your head.

“Yes, anything,” he repeated back.

You squealed in excitement and clambered into his arms once he was close enough, “You’re the best, mister Sanji!” As you began to rattle off some of your favorites, Sanji was clutching at his chest and trying his damnedest not to give out from how cute this was.

“That sounds good! I want some of that, too!” Luffy popped up at his side, eyeing his cook expectantly.

Sanji’s dopey expression twisted into a scowl and he swung his leg at him, “You don’t get any, stay out of my da-” he cleared his throat, “out of my kitchen.”

Luffy dodged it with a practiced ease and kept following anyway, tacking on other foods he thought Sanji should make while he’s at it. All of it was meat.

You swung your feet happily, watching the interaction. You don’t really understand how your grown up self got to know these people, or how you got turned into a child. Seriously, what’s a devil fruit? But, you think you get why you wanted to be with them despite getting hit on the head by one of them. They seem like fun and nice people.