What The Whole "please Comment On Fic You Like, It Will Encourage More Writing" Vs. "fic Writers Shouldn't

"youve already written that trope" yesss. i like it a lots. i will be writing it again. 1000 stories of the same trope over and over again for ten million years

pls can I get a lonely cassette!reader being taken in by soundwave???? i need that man carnally and i need to be inside his boobs even more 💥💥💥

The city is burning. It's been on fire for days, the skyline you loved nothing but smoke and ash, and there is no relief in sight. Metal melting into itself and the surroundings, buildings merged together, until it looks like a great beast crying in agony. Fighting to pull itself out from it's own destruction. Your cassette-player is among those trapped under the rubble, squeezed beneath concrete and metal. Perhaps it's fortunate, then, that you know he's dead. You were his only companion, and now you're alone. It gives you comfort knowing he's not the one in your place.

There is no one coming to save you. The Decepticons and Autobots have torn Cybertron apart, your home just collateral among the list of casualties. It had filled you with rage when you saw the way they would cast anything in the way to achieve victory, but your anger is hollow now. You're not even sure you can feel anything at all. All you can think about is where you will find energon next.

There are no more relief stations near you, no more safe encampments that can take you in. All neutral parties, all crisis servants, have been pushed to the very edges of Cybertron where there is still just a bit of energon to mine. It wouldn't matter if you could get to them, anyway. Most have picked their side and will push recruitment if you come looking for aid, ensuring you will be safe if only you will be their fodder.

And you can't leave your home. Even when it is unrecognizable, the bright city lights long since blown out. This is where you want to be, the only place for you. You slowly duck and trudge between buildings, dirt settling in your joints and making the ache of your frame worse. You scan for any sign of energy, a leak of oil even, but it is bare here.

So lost in your HUD, you don't hear the clink of pedes on concrete, the glitching of your processor getting worse and more obstructive by the cycle. You try tapping at settings on your helm, but the static clears minimally. A giant blue mech stands in front of you when your vision clears of errors. You jump back, stumbling over your pedes to stay upright, and lean back to take in the intimidating bot before you.

His face is covered and his visor is red. So red against the white and blue of his paintjob. The blue gleams beautifully under the muffled sunlight, just barely able to break through the ash covering the sky. He must be important, or was. You could have never afforded a polish so uniform and bright. His chest is a window into a docked and rather comfortable looking cassette. You could laugh from how fortuitous this oasis is.

The purple of his insignia almost misses your awareness, but it is an ugly symbol and it hurts your optics to look upon it. You should be angry, but there is nothing. Perhaps this meeting is Primus' mercy, no matter how cold.

The large mech kneels in front of you, his helm still looming above your own, as his servo comes to rub dirt away from your faceplate. You don't shy away, despite the true dirtiness being in his allegiance. It's nice to feel a friendly touch. You eye his tapedeck enviously, like you want to rip the mech out of there and settle in its place. It's a horrible feeling that leaves a pit of shame in your tank. The fear and grief has turned you into an animal hungry for any sign of salvation.

The intimidating mech pulls from his subspace a wrapped packet: energon rations. Meager and half-eaten, it wouldn't be the best you've ever tasted, but you're grateful for the pity. It's hardly two bites before you're done. Despite the quality, it's the sweetest energon that's ever touched your glossa. Lubricant tracks down your cheekplates.

And despite it all, you want to live. A feeling that builds in your chassis and sings in your spark. You want to live, you want to leave this place. You don't care what you have to do. All you want is to tear free of the rubble and rip yourself from the metal melting down around you.

"Inquiry: Free to dock?" You grasp the opportunity with firm servos.

Me and @bibicalico were talking about Kusuriuri and Ginko the other day and how they'd have so many interesting stories and trinkets to tell each other, so I made this crossover drawing :3

Big thank you for the concept inspiration, pal! ✨

Law Textposts

Masterlist of other textposts and memes

This is me. Kinda jealous of all the writers who can write quickly because I can't.

more strawheart alliance shenanigans

Hours in the Kitchen are Spent Warmer With You

Worick Arcangelo x Reader x Nicolas Brown

The apartment may be old, the halls run down, but even with the two of them in the cramped kitchen with you, it filled your heart with incredible fondness.

The pan sizzled threateningly as you dumped in the vegetables, water from those and your hands making the oil pop as you hissed and jerked back. On the other stove top, a second pan held cutlets of chicken being seared into golden brown. The knife in your hands glinted as you brought it down on some mushrooms, clicking your tongue in annoyance as the dull blade made a mess of your ingredients. You’d have to ask Nic where he left the whetstone again, but for now, they’d have sloppily cut mushrooms in their vegetable. And considering they weren’t the ones cooking, they had no right to complain.

Dumping in the mushrooms with the other greens, you gave the pan a few good shakes with one hand while the other went to lower the heat. Busy with your one-man show, you missed the racket of the door opening and Nicolas and Worick’s arrival as the latter announced their presence home. Seasonings were just about to go into the pan when you sensed someone popping up right behind you, just before a warm breath ghosted over your ear.

“Boo.”

The wooden spoon in your hand cracked over a mop of blonde hair, instincts faster than reason as your senses kicked into high gear at the perceived intruder. It hit you a split second later as the blonde stumbled back with a groan, clutching the spot on his head where you struck him.

“Worick!” You exclaimed, part exasperation and part mortification.

“Oi!!” he grunted. “Why did that hurt so much?!?”

You weren’t quick enough to dodge as he grabbed your wrist holding the spoon, inspecting the utensil in your grip.

“Let go! The food’s gonna burn!”

“Don’t use it as a weapon next time!”

Baring your teeth at him, you kicked his shins. “I’ll take a chunk out of your arm next time, yeah? Maybe that’s better.”

Your vision was obscured as Worick planted his open hand onto your face, trying to push you back. “You wouldn’t. How else would I—Ow, what the hell!”

You stumbled as Worick yanked himself away from you, a grossed-out look on his face as he held up the hand that was over your face just moments earlier.

“You bit me!”

“I warned you,” you muttered, turning back to the stove andflipping the chicken breasts.

Seeing Nicolas at the edge of your vision as he entered the kitchen, you quickly stomped twice on the floor, drawing the Twilight’s attention as he picked up on the vibrations. After resting the spoon on the counter, you signed to him, “Food’s almost ready.”

He grunted an affirmation, expression moodier than usual as he pushed past you and Worick to head to the sink, turning on the faucet and sticking his head underneath the water. You watched the occurrence in slight bemusement before turning back to the food, slapping Worick on the hand when you saw him reaching for the spoon. With the other two, considerably larger males here with you, it was hard to move about without knocking elbows, and you began to get irritated at the two of them so close right after their jobs.

Seeing the blonde trying to reach for the pans against, you haphazardly threw back an elbow in his direction (which he, unfortunately for you, dodged). “Piss off and get your nasty fingers away from the food. You absolutely reek right now.”

Worick let out a sad groan, pouting at you. “Will it be done by the time I finish washing up?”

Pausing, you gauged how much time would be left for the other side of the chicken to brown. “Yeah. Especially if Nico’s showering ahead of you.”

The blonde did a one-eighty as he turned around to catch sight of the back of Nicolas’s head as he disappeared around the corner. “Hey, no!”

His clingy presence evaporated from your side as he ran after Nicolas. Muffled thumping reverberated from where the two were, before the slam of a door closing echoed somebody’s victory. The vegetable medley was just barely soft, so you dumped in the marinade for it. You heard the clinks of utensils being set out behind you before Nicolas wandered into your peripherals, taking the pan with the chicken breasts and giving it a cursory jiggle. Nudging him away before he could ruin them with his cursed ability to scorch food, you took up the entire space in front of the stove.

There was a pointed huff behind you before you felt Nicolas press into your back, his head coming to rest on your shoulders as he leaned part of his bulk on you. He was careful enough not to use all of his weight, moving when you did, and feeling the vibrations as you hummed a soft tune you liked. After one hand was freed and clean, you reached up to run your fingers through his short hair, nails scratching his scalp the way he liked.

Nicolas’s chest rumbled as he practically melted into you, the Twilight going soft in the only way he would with you and Worick. You grimaced at the thought of sweat and other post-assignment muck on Nicolas rubbing off, but with him clinging to your back like this, you doubted he would listen if you told him to back off.

Steam from the rice cooker buffeted your face as you lifted the lid, mixing up the fluffy grains within it before shutting it. You gently pushed Nicolas out of your space to plate the food, the sautéed vegetables and pan-fried chicken being separated into three portions, with the biggest going to Nic to compensate for his increased metabolism. You nudged your elbow into Nicolas’s midriff to separate him from you, motioning to him to get the food. He peeled himself off of you with a grumble and went to take all the plates before you could, lifting them over your head when you tried to reach for one. The two of you shuffled over to the old wooden table taken from the curb that served as your dining space, its mismatched chairs pushed neatly in. Nicolas already set out cutlery for you all, and now, he placed the food in their designated spots.

The sound of the bathroom door opening signaled that the other male had finished his shower. True to word, he wandered into view a few minutes later, hair still dripping lightly. He perked up at the sight of you and Nicolas taking your seats by the table and adjusted his eye patch as he hurried to the same.

“Hell yeah,” he groaned, sliding into his seat. “Thanks for the food.”

You hummed picking up your fork. To your left, Nicolas was already stabbing into his portion of chicken with his own utensil. Rapping on the table with your nickel, you signed to Nicolas, ”Where did you put the whetstone?”

Nicolas stilled, mouth partially open and food halfway to his mouth. His eyes flickered away from you for a quick second, guilty. Narrowing your eyes at him, you hoped that the pressure of your stare would cause him to cave. But he simply looked away, the bastard. You huffed and returned to our meal, determined to pry the answer out of him later.

“Nic lost it.”

Worick’s answer jerked you out of your meal again. Nicolas continued to eat, pretending as if nothing was wrong. Reaching across the table, you took hold of his ear and tugged. Though the Twilight was much stronger than you, he relented and leaned over with a grumble as you forced his attention over. “That’s the fifth time, Nic! I swear, the corner shop clerk thinks I’m a weirdo by now! What the hell do you use it for because I know you don’t use it for your sword!”

The Twilight stuck his tongue out at you.

“We’ll grab a new one!” Worick quickly intervened before you could lunge across the table.

“You better,” you muttered, returning to your meal, stabbing the vegetables a little too viciously with your fork. “See how easy it is when it’s your turn to cook when the knives are dull as shit.”

“But you did so well,” Worick said. “I think Nicky can agree.”

He pointed over to the Twilight, who was cramming the last bite of chicken into his mouth. Nicolas sensed the shift in the air and paused, glancing up to meet your eyes, his cheeks puffed out from the food. He squinted his eyes, a challenge for either of you to say anything. While he was distracted, Worick snuck some of his vegetables onto the unsuspecting man’s plate, shooting you a wink behind Nicolas’s back. The dark-haired man was none the wiser as he turned back, only doing the briefest pause before resuming his meal. You and Worick did the same, the space settling into something quiet, only broken by the sounds of cutlery against cheap dishes.

Nicolas was the first to finish, and you passed the remainder of your food over to him. He took that too, and you got up, ready to clear away the dishes before Worick tutted.

“Sit down,” he instructed, leg hooking over your chair leg and tugging it in so you were forced to lower yourself. “Whoever does the cooking doesn’t have to do the dishes, remember?”

He shoved the last bit of food him his mouth and then stood up, gathering the utensils while Nicolas stacked up the plates. You tilted your head in curiosity as Worick passed everything to the other man, and then split off to go back to the living area. The squeak and rattle of water in the sink behind you was Nicolas’s presence, while the rustling of plastic gave hints to what Worick might be doing. You didn’t need to wait for long as he wandered back, a cheeky smile on his face as he slid back into his seat.

“Nico and I swung by the shops to get something sweet,” Worick said, waggling the brightly colored box, so out of place in the drabness of your apartment. He leaned forward to set it on the table, resting his face in a hand. “They were on sale, so we thought that it’d be a nice treat to go with the food.”

You couldn’t help but let out a good-natured sigh, shaking your head. “Of course, you’d go for that.”

Worick’s eye was bright as he broke open the seal, allowing the scent of chocolate to permeate the kitchen. Nicolas placed down a few drinks, brushing a quick kiss to your temple as he passed, and soon the crinkle of wrappers announced the treats being unwrapped. You hummed in delight at the taste of the sweetness melting over your tongue. Though the treats were cheap, the kinds stocked in bulk by the counters everywhere you went, it still warmed your heart to split the small offering in between the three of you.

Music drifted up from the street below as you three finished the chocolate, someone’s ancient stereo spitting out static-laden notes from foreign songs. The blonde perked up, setting down his drink on the worn table with a ‘thunk’. His bright gaze pinned you and Nicolas down as he stood up. “Looks like someone got their radio to work. Wanna dance?”

Nicolas marked his immediate refusal by crossing his arms and glowering threateningly at Worick. So the blonde turned to you, hand extended with a hopeful look on his face. With a begrudging smile, you reached out and placed your hand in his, getting pulled up out of your seat to stand in the small area of your kitchen. You could help but laugh as Worick spun you around, his own velvet chuckles accompanying it. The space was barely big enough for the two of you, hips bumping into the counters and Nicolas’s feet tripping the blonde as he purposefully stretched them out. Your heart felt inexplicably warm and full, Worick’s eye bright with mirth. Even Nicolas, when you glanced back at him, had a fond look on his face, a small smile as he gazed at you two.

There were pots and pans in the sink to be washed, schedules to update, and budgets to go over, but for right now, the three of you basked in the golden glow of the afternoon.

Aughhhhgghh literally w so good like this friendship between these two are my Roman Empire

like the lines “Maybe we can come back here in fifty years, too” and “There’s no one else” literally messed me up so bad

LIKE PLEASE I NEED TO SEE THEM OLD AND WRINKLY AND HAPPY PLEASE

secrets i have held in my heart

part six — the killerverse masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of ares reader

summary: snapshots of you and luke throughout your lives, from elementary school to camp half-blood

content: childhood best friends in love. fluff. this is a 3 + 1 fic except you don’t find out what it is until you read/get to the end of the fic LOL

notes: title from i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys. this is a pretty important chapter i’d say lol but i dont think you have to read the rest of the killerverse to understand

SIX

Your hand is sticky with Elmer’s glue, but it’s only ‘cause the craft in class is super duper boring.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, so you’re all decorating your shoe boxes that you’re going to fill with your Valentines tomorrow.

Your teacher wanted you guys to make your boxes nice and pretty, but you’re really, really bored. You drew a cat’s face on the top of your box and added googly eyes and pipe cleaner whiskers. There are a bunch of heart stickers all over it, too, the scratch and sniff ones that smell like strawberries. You and the girl next to you take turns picking up your box and smelling it.

But you kinda don’t really want to look at your box anymore. You didn’t like the way the crayon looked on the side so you went over it in marker, but it made it look even uglier. So you decide instead to put a bunch of glue on your hand and wait for it to dry so you can peel it all off. But you have to do it under the table, because your teacher got mad the last time you did.

You wait for Luke to look at you from across the room. When he finally looks back, you wave at him with your glue stained hand, smiling in a funny way.

He waves at you too. His box is bright red and has a nice drawing of a heart on the side. Luke is really good at drawing, and you’re only a little jealous.

Last night, your mom took you and Luke to the store to buy your Valentine’s exchange candy for tomorrow. And then you spent a few hours writing your classmates’ names on each piece, eating entire packets when your mom wasn’t looking. She ended up finding out because your teeth were stained green from the Fun-Dip, but she just smiled and said not to have anymore.

You miss Luke. He’s talking to the boy who sits next to him on the other side of the room, and you wish you were over there too. You and Luke got separated because you would talk to him too much, so now you sit at the table in the very front of the room.

Ally must get bored of your fun strawberry stickers, because she turns around in her chair and giggles next to you a little loudly.

You turn to her. “What’s so funny?”

Her box has a butterfly on it, but it’s missing a wing. She’s busy looking at the table next to you guys.

“I have a crush on Nick. Do you think he’ll be my Valentine?”

You almost gag.

You don’t really like Nick. He pulled your hair during recess once, and you got in big trouble for throwing dirt at him in return.

You try to be nice, but it’s hard. He annoys you. A little hotly, you ask, “Why do you like Nick?”

“He has nice hair. And he ran even faster than you in the relay race, so that means he’s really fast.”

You’re the fastest girl in the grade by a mile, even beating out almost all of the boys, which people were weirdly surprised at. But Nick is a super slow runner, and his team only beat yours because your sneakers came undone during it.

“I mean, I guess.”

Ally’s high ponytail nearly whacks you in the face when she turns to face you again.

“Do you like anyone?” she asks. She finally picks up her colored pencil to finish the wing of her butterfly.

You pause. You don’t really know.

What even would make you like someone? Ally likes Nick because he can run fast. Maybe you’re supposed to like someone if they’re super strong.

Joey helps your teacher put the chairs up at the end of the day. And he runs fast, too. He’s the boy that Cate and Brielle have a crush on. And Tia. And Farah.

Basically everyone, actually.

He wears so much gel in his hair that it sticks up like a porcupine. But he runs fast, and is one of the only people who can tag you when you guys play Tag during recess.

“I like Joey,” you decide. You aren’t really sure what that means.

“No!” Sofia protests from across the table. You’d forgotten she was sitting there. “I like Joey. You have to have a different crush.”

“Oh, okay.” You look around the classroom. “Who should I like?”

“What about your boyfriend?” Taylor asks from next to Sofia.

“Boyfriend? Ew, what?” you nearly yell.

Someone shushes you from the table Nick’s sitting at. You don’t want to get in trouble again, so you don’t stick your tongue out at them.

“Who?” Ally asks, putting down her colored pencil. Her blue-purple butterfly is finally done, and she’s looking pretty curious.

Taylor points a painted finger toward the back of the class. “Luke.”

You turn back to look at him.

Luke runs fast, too. He’s the fastest boy in the grade. And he doesn’t wear any stupid gel in his hair like Joey does. He has a lot of soft curly hair that you like to twist around your fingers. You decide he has much better hair than Joey and Nick.

Ally gets a big smile on her face. “You and Luke, sitting in a tree.”

Sofia laughs, joining Ally and her teasing.

“K-i-s-s-i-n-g!” they spell, your face growing hotter with each letter.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you say, angry and embarrassed. You hope Luke can’t hear them. “Stop lying.”

The two of them don’t listen, going on and on about how you and Luke must kiss all the time. You think your head is going to explode.

“Stop!” you repeat, but the two of them go on and on and on.

On a piece of scrap paper, Ally draws a big heart. Inside, she starts to draw two stick figures, and you nearly shriek in embarrassment. You tug her colored pencil out of her hand, and she slips out of her chair.

The girls around the table look at you, wide eyed. Even Nick’s table hears the thump and turns around.

Ally bursts into tears immediately, massive waterfalls running down her face.

She still manages to scowl through the tears. “I’m telling!”

You stand awkwardly with the red colored pencil in your hand.

Great.

Ms. Annin ends up moving you again, even further from Luke. You get placed at a lonely table all by yourself right next to her desk.

You never speak to Ally again.

TWELVE

It’s still weird getting used to having another person traveling with you.

You’re really thankful for it, because your turns to keep watch at night have gotten a lot shorter. Now that Thalia’s with you, you’re more well rested than you’ve been in years. Plus, she’s a great fighter. There really is strength in numbers, because the three of you rarely struggle against the monsters that you happen to come across.

Of all the demigods you could’ve found, you’re glad you found Thalia. She’s funny and can keep up with you and Luke even though she’s slightly younger.

But even though you have absolutely no problems with her being here, it’s still a little weird.

It kind of feels like when you’d get a new kid in class in grade school. You have to consciously remind yourself that there’s three of you now, not just two. Your duo has been upped to a party of three, something you haven’t experienced ever. It’s always been you and Luke against the world, and you’ve never really experienced anything else.

But it’s not a bad weird. Thalia’s had your life in her hands multiple times since last week, and you’ve trusted her to do her part wholeheartedly. She’s strong, and can pull her weight and more.

You think the two of you are bound to be close friends eventually. Luke will always be your best friend, but you’ve never had a close friend that’s a girl before, and the thought of it makes you smile. It’s new.

Now that there’s three of you, you’ve had to make a few changes as well. You’d all known that three demigods were bound to attract more monsters than two, and decided that sleeping out in the open wouldn’t cut it anymore.

So, you’d all started construction on a little shelter made of old plants and vines and whatever other things the woods would offer you. It’s still a work in progress, and does absolutely nothing against the rain, but it’s pretty wind resistant, which has seemed to deter any monsters from finding your little group so far.

You offer to accompany Luke to go find sticks for tonight’s fire, but he gives you a very pointed look before turning around and leaving.

Safe to say, he’s still a little wary of you doing anything ‘too difficult’ since your brief stint in the hospital last month.

You scoff at the idea of him deeming the act of picking up literal sticks from the floor as ‘too difficult.’

It had taken weeks before Luke even let you carry your bag again, and you’re honestly just lucky he’s not hovering like he had before.

You grumble to yourself all the way back to the shelter, a little peeved but too tired to chase after him to argue about it.

When you push aside the shrub that works as a makeshift door, you see Thalia, poking a little at the fire you had started a bit ago.

“Hi,” you greet, looking around for where you’d left your sleeping bag.

“Hey.”

None of your stuff is in the pile by the door where you’d left it, and when you scan the room again, your eyes bulge out of your head.

Thalia’s been kind enough to roll out your sleeping bags for you, which you’re about to thank her for, but your jaw falls open at the formation of them.

Thalia’s sitting on her black sleeping bag, staring peacefully into the fire. But it’s smack dab in the middle between you and Luke.

You shut down the shocked oh that threatens to leave your mouth.

It’s not a big deal. It’s only a distance of eight feet or so, and it’s not like you’re never speaking to Luke ever again. You just can’t remember the last time you’ve slept so far away from him.

But it’s not even a big deal! It really isn’t. It’s just that before Thalia joined, not sleeping next to Luke wasn’t even an option you had. You’re just surprised at how new everything is now.

That’s all.

…

Really. That’s all.

Thalia’s turned away from the fire and is looking pointedly at you. “You okay?”

“Hmm?”

“You zoned out for a second there.”

“Oh, oops, sorry.” You scratch your head, trying your best to chill out. “Just thinking.”

You sit on your sleeping bag, wrapping your arms around your shins. You’re a little humiliated at how badly this is irritating you.

Should you bring it up? Surely she won’t care.

No. It’s one singular night. You’ll survive.

You give the younger girl a side glance. She’s already looking at you.

Her laugh crackles throughout the shelter, and she actually clutches her chest, amused out of her mind.

“Sorry, I forgot you’re like, boyfriend-girlfriend or whatever.”

You choke. “Uh—”

She yawns, getting up to stretch and drag her sleeping back closer to you so there’s a significant gap between her and Luke. “Kissing really grosses me out, so don’t do it in front of me. But if you guys are dating, I’d rather third wheel than cut between you two.”

“We’re not dating.”

The look she gives you with her piercing blue eyes makes you feel scrutinized. “You don’t have to pretend. You make crazy eyes at him.”

“Crazy eyes?” It feels like your real eyes (that definitely don’t look in any particular way towards Luke) are going to bulge out of your head.

“I think he likes you, too, though. So don’t worry.”

“Oh my gods,” you groan, placing your face into your hands. “Not you, too.”

She snickers again, her laughter filling the room. “Do you get that a lot?”

The fire makes the air feel too sticky and hot. You fight the urge to fan your face. “People tell us that all the time. Like, even one of our teachers at school did. It’s so embarrassing ‘cause we don’t even like each other like that.”

“Oh, dang, really?”

“Really.”

She thinks about it for a moment, running a hand through her hair. It’s wet from the sink water from the gas station bathroom.

“Are you sure, though?”

You wrinkle your nose. “It’s Luke. I think I’d know if I liked him.”

“So you don’t want to switch spots?”

You go quiet, and Thalia laughs again.

“Yes or no?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

She seems awfully smug, and you jump to defend yourself.

“It’s not because of that! I’ve just gotten used to it—”

“Sure,” Thalia hums, giving you a wicked grin. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, though. He’s good looking enough, I think. And he’s tall.”

You huff at her refusal to believe. But you can’t help but ask, “You think he’s good looking?”

It reminds you of when the girls in the year below you would always volunteer to partner with Luke whenever the classes did gym together. It’s funny.

Thalia tilts her head. “Don’t you?”

Of course you think so. You’ve never really had a crush on anyone, but you have enough sense to think Luke’s face is nice.

“I guess,” you say, trying not to give her anything to use against you.

She cracks another smile. “Okay. Well, you should move over before he comes back. I’m tired.”

You shift over in a daze, making sure to leave a normal amount of space between you and Luke’s sleeping bags. If Thalia notices, she doesn’t say anything.

He comes back a little bit later, a comically large pile of sticks in his hands. He carries them right over to the fire by your heads, dusting his hands off after he sets them down.

“That should be enough,” he whispers, wary of Thalia’s sleeping form.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Should be? I’ll be surprised if you even left any trees alive out there.”

Luke snorts before turning around to look at you. Whatever snarky thing he wanted to say dies on his tongue, though.

“Are you good?” he asks.

You wonder if you could just zip yourself into your sleeping bag and never speak to anyone again.

“Yeah. Why?”

He looks to Thalia and then back to you. “You’re so close to Thalia you’ll probably roll on top of her in your sleep.”

The extra foot of space between you and Luke goes unmentioned.

“There’s like, a draft,” you decide to say. “It’s cold right there.”

Luke stands over the spot where your sleeping bag would usually lay, holding out his hands like he’s trying to feel for the wind. “Are you sure?”

“Yep. Much warmer over here.”

He gives you a funny look. “Okay. I feel fine though, so…”

Luke drags his red sleeping bag over to yours so the edges are nearly touching. You don’t want to look in Thalia’s direction on the chance she’s still awake.

“Goodnight, killer,” he mumbles. “I’ll take first watch.”

Your elbows brush his when he lays down, and he tugs your blanket over him as well, grumbling something about you being a blanket hog.

When you turn onto your side, you’re startled by the sight of Thalia’s electric blue eyes. They shine with barely contained laughter.

You turn right back around.

SIXTEEN

You’re happy and full from the good food you had while you walk towards the exit of the diner.

“I still can’t believe we’re both old now.”

“I’ve been sixteen for less than a day, Luke. We’re not that old.”

“Well we’re old enough to drive. I think that makes us pretty old.”

You picture Luke behind the wheel — he’d be a great driver, you can tell.

“If you got your license, I’d make sure to stay off the roads,” you say anyway.

“Gee, thanks. So much confidence in me.”

“I’d warn everyone, too. I’d hold a sign out the window that’d say: Keep a safe distance from this vehicle.”

“Woah, who said anything about me letting you in the car? I hope you have fun on public transport.”

“I was kidding! All jokes, I swear—”

You cut yourself off with a gasp, which he tenses at.

You seize his wrist before he can even ask what the issue is. “Luke, we need two dollars.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Huh?”

You point to the small box by the front door. “It’s a photobooth! Do you have two bucks?”

You slip ahead to inspect it while he checks his wallet. You can’t even tell if the machine is still functional, but the light outside flickers, so you assume it does.

When you turn back to look at him, he shakes his head. “I got a five, but I doubt this thing gives change.”

“Ya need a spot?”

You and Luke spin, immediately on the defensive. Your hand closes around the dagger tucked into the front of your jacket.

There’s an old man leaning against the wall a couple feet away, a well loved coat clutched against his front. You almost roll your eyes at the way Luke steps in front of you.

He’s sweet, but kinda stupid.

Your hand loosens around your weapon when you see the man. He looks normal enough.

“Do you have change for a five?” you pipe up from behind Luke.

He says your name in a low tone, trying to remind you of the very real danger this sweet old man could bring. Monsters aren’t afraid to take any form — even if it means they look like a kind man who feeds ducks at parks.

The man pats his pockets, and you sidestep Luke to walk up to him. Luke knows there’s no stopping you, so he follows closeby.

“Yes, ma’am,” the man says, pulling out his wallet.

“Thank you so much,” you say, urging Luke to hand over the five dollar bill you have.

He doesn’t look very happy, but you’re too busy smiling at the man to care. He opens his wallet to pull out his cash and you catch a glimpse of a little black and white picture in the photo sleeve.

He smiles when he catches you looking. “Ya like it? That’s me ‘n my girl.”

“She’s gorgeous,” you say honestly. “You two are so cute.”

He pulls out the photo to show you it close up. It unfolds into a photobooth strip, the edges worn and clearly aged with time.

It’s definitely the man in front of you right now, but a few decades younger. He and his lover look to be in college, maybe in their late teens. You can see the love they have for each other even through the picture.

“It’s from our first date,” he explains, his eyes proud while he reminisces. “That was fifty years ago last month, in this very diner, at that photo booth over there. We come back here every year for our anniversary.”

You clutch the space over your heart, gushing. “That’s so cute!”

“She sent me to pick up food today, but I know she’d share the same sentiment as me if she was here—you two remind me a lot of us.”

You’ve grown to not be too embarrassed when someone mistakes you and Luke for a couple. You’d get embarrassed and angry when you were younger, but it’s kinda whatever now.

“We’re actually—”

“Thank you,” Luke cuts in. He drops a hand on your shoulder while he urges you back in the direction of the booth. “For the compliment and the change.”

“It’s no problem, son,” he assures, giving you both a toothy grin.

You say your goodbyes over Luke’s shoulder while he ushers you under the curtain of the booth.

“Isn’t that so cute, Luke?” you gush quietly. “This is the same place they were fifty years ago! They’ve been together longer than we’ve even been alive.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, feeding the cash into the receiver. “But we gotta go if we still wanna catch our tour.”

“Oh, right,” you say. Luke had bought tickets to a sightseeing trip after. “We’ll be fast.”

The pictures come out so cute and a lot like the black and white strip the old man had. There was a lot less space inside the booth than you’d thought there’d be, so you’d been forced to sit on Luke’s left leg to fit in.

It’s a strip of four pictures. There’s one of you and Luke’s faces pressed together and one of you smiling while you threw an arm around him.

The bottom two are your favorites though. There’s one of you kissing his cheek, and then one of you laughing at him after his face went bright red.

“Maybe we can come back here in fifty years, too,” you suggest, still looking at the pictures even after you’re a few blocks away from the diner.

It sounds stupid. You aren’t even sure if demigods survive that long, but you’d like to think you and Luke would be the exception.

He squeezes your shoulder as the pier comes into view. “Yeah. Maybe we should.”

NINETEEN

Luke rarely sleeps in the Ares cabin with you, a fact you’ve had plenty of arguments about.

(“Your siblings still hate me,” he had claimed. “I have to sleep on my stomach there ‘cause I swear I’ll wake up with a dick drawn on my forehead one of these days.”

You’d just glared at him. “You and your siblings literally have prank wars while I’m over.”

Once, someone had tried to get back at one of Luke’s stupid stunts by dressing up like that girl from The Ring and standing over his bed in the middle of the night.

You’d woken up from all of their whispering, and acted on instinct. You decked the poor kid standing over you in the face.

They’d all learned their lesson, and Luke was granted immunity from pranks whenever you’re over.

“That was one time,” he always defends. “At least they like you. Lance rolled his eyes when he opened the door for me last week.”

“That’s ‘cause you tripped him and made him faceplant during Capture the Flag.”

He’d paused, trying his best to remember.

“He’s still mad about that?”)

Nevertheless, Luke only comes over for super special occasions. But it’s times like these when you wish your siblings hated him a little bit less, cause you can see the hesitation on his face when you ask him to sleep over.

You’re probably pouting. “Please? I haven’t slept over at yours in so long, and you haven’t been here in forever. And it’s our day off tomorrow, so you really have no good excuse.”

He frowns. “Tomorrow’s the eighth?”

You nod, grabbing onto his wrist like it’ll keep him with you, but you already know you won’t like his answer when his frown deepens.

“‘m sorry. I gotta help Alice with something early tomorrow morning. I can’t tonight.”

You groan, a little disappointed. Luke links your hands together and squeezes it in apology before he drags your dead weight to the Ares cabin.

He cracks open the door for you and lets you go, but not without you throwing your arms around his shoulders and drawing him as close to you as you can.

“I’ll see you early tomorrow morning. I’ll make it up to you after I’m done with my sister’s thing.” he promises, rocking you back so far it feels like you’re gonna fall. You clutch onto his shoulders a little tighter.

“Early?” you groan. “It’s our day off, Luke. Have mercy.”

“We got a long day of nothing tomorrow. Ever heard about seizing the day?”

“No. Ever heard about sleeping in?”

“What kinda counselor would I be if I let you wake up at noon?”

“A sweet and kind and perfect one who cares about the campers?”

He releases you, smiling. “I’ll see you at seven.”

“Ten,” you argue.

He laughs. “I’ll see you at eight.”

“Nine thirty?”

“Don’t push it. Nine, and that’s the latest.” He pats your cheek soothingly when you pout.

“I should’ve started my first offer at eleven,” you lament.

“Goodnight,” he practically sings, stepping off the porch.

You pretend to glare at him, but can’t help but wave. “Night.”

He winks at you, and you turn back inside when he disappears from view.

You nearly topple over a child when you try to enter the cabin.

You’re able to catch yourself at the last second, but it still startles you. You look down to see a little girl standing right in front of you, so short she comes up to around your ribcage. She’s new to the Ares cabin, just claimed last week, but not new to camp.

“Hi, Faith,” you greet. “Are you okay?”

“Who was that?” she asks curiously.

You crouch down so she doesn’t have to break her neck to talk to you. “That was Luke, remember? He’s the counselor of the Hermes cabin.”

“Oh.”

“Did you forget about him?” you tease. “He told me such sweet things about you.”

She clasps her hands together behind her back. “No. I didn’t forget, but…”

She hesitates, so you nod at her to go on.

“He looked nicer right now.”

You fight the urge to smile. “Was Luke scary back at the Hermes cabin?”

It would make sense. Luke’s not actually scary, but the way he rough houses with his siblings when he’s with them would probably be intimidating to a little kid.

She shrugs. “Yeah. A little.”

“Well…” You smile. “Luke isn’t scary at all, I promise. I know you’ve already met, but I can reintroduce you to him tomorrow, if you want.”

“No, thanks.”

You have to crack a smile at that. She’s not trying to be mean, but she clearly does not care about Luke at all.

The kids at camp are so funny sometimes that you have to physically stifle your laughter at the random stuff they say.

“Alright, then. You headed to bed?”

She nods and scampers off into her bunk by the back.

You can’t wait to tell Luke about how he’s scaring off the little kids.

—

You get more hours of sleep that night than you have in months, but all good things come to an unfortunate end.

Someone’s calling your name, and you groan as you sit up. You blink through the haze in your eyes that threaten to make them shut again.

It’s Faith. She’s standing by the door, looking up at the visitor outside.

“Yeah?” you groan, stretching out your limbs, unused from sleep.

“Your boyfriend’s here.”

Luke.

True to his word, he’s here bright and early. You wonder if you’ll be able to convince him to lay down with you.

“Can you let him in, please?” you call, slumping back into your sheets. It’s so much warmer under your blankets.

The wooden floors creak as he gets closer, and you hold your hands out for him.

“Hey—”

“Please lie down.”

That gets a laugh from Luke, but it doesn’t work. He pushes you over so he can sit in the empty space he makes on your bed.

“I let you sleep in. It’s ten.”

“Mhm. My hero.”

You think he’s smiling. “I have a surprise.”

“Yeah?”

You wonder if the surprise is staying here with you until noon. You really hope it is.

There’s a box in your lap, and you move your hands over it like you’ll be able to guess what it is through touch alone.

Luke rubs the sleep from your eyes. “You’re gonna have to open your eyes for this one.”

You open your eyes very reluctantly.

It’s a cake.

It’s frosted white and has the cool swirls going around the top edge and bottom edge, and you don’t have to ask to know what flavor it is.

Written on the top in slightly lopsided frosting, it says: Happy Half-Anniversary.

Luke only comes into the Ares cabin for special occasions, you remember.

Like today, your half friendship anniversary.

When Luke had first started proposing that you celebrate, you’d laughed. Right in his face.

You’d asked him if he was making things up to mess with you. But he’d argued that camp was lame with nothing to look forward to, so he was making any chance to celebrate whenever he could.

You’d both chosen a random day to celebrate, since there was no way of knowing when you’d actually become friends. You’d suggested a couple months after your birthday, since your moms had probably taken you to meet each other the moment your little baby immune system was strong enough.

Luke had shot that down immediately, saying it’d be too close to his half birthday or something, and you two needed to spread out your celebrations as much as possible. So you’d found a calendar and chose the most strategic day that allowed for maximum celebrations.

…In hindsight, it sounds ridiculous.

But you were fourteen and bored, and now you have about ten different excuses to have one of the Demeter kids bake you a cake.

“It’s the eighth,” you realize. Something like guilt presses heavy into your chest. You know he won’t think it’s a big deal — it’s a made up anniversary, after all — but you can’t help but look up at him, frowning. “I’m so sorry, Luke, I can’t believe I forgot.”

One of his hands moves to cover one of yours where it sits on the box. “It’s okay, killer. I know you’ve had a long week.”

You have. You really have to thank fourteen-year-old Luke who insisted on all these celebrations. This anniversary couldn’t have come at a better time, cause now you have some really good cake and a day off with your best friend.

You’re admiring the details along the side of the cake when Luke speaks up, drawing your gaze back to his face. He leans back onto his hand that’s right by your upper leg.

“So. Your boyfriend, huh?”

The sound you make is caught between a choke and a gasp. “What?”

“Faith called me your boyfriend, and you just let me in,” he muses thoughtfully. He turns back to look at the cake, suddenly absorbed in the frosting details as well.

You get warm all over. You hadn’t even realized. The idea had seemed so natural, you didn’t even think about correcting her.

What the fuck, you realize. That’s not normal.

“You got something you wanna tell me?” Luke teases, his voice trying for joking but landing somewhere between strained and awkward.

Your throat is dry, and you have to cough for sound to come out. “Oh. I just got so used to it, I didn’t even…”

Luke looks back up at you, something flickering in his eyes. “Oh. So there’s no secret boyfriend you’ve been bringing here without telling me?”

That’s what he was worried about?

You can’t help but laugh.

“Is there even anyone else?”

Luke’s eyes dart over your face, and you can tell he wants to say something. His hands are warm where they’re cupped around yours, and you begin to grow frighteningly hyperaware of every spot that you’re pressed together — at your knees, at the back of your hand, at the slightest part of your thigh.

Whatever tension that crackles over your skin and between the inches between the two of you is broken the second Luke grins, the sight sending your heart slamming against your ribcage.

“Huh. Guess not.”

He puts the box onto your bedside table and moves you over even more so he can lay back against the headboard.

“I knew you’d fold,” you joke, trying to keep your voice even and failing miserably.

Luke doesn’t notice. He hooks his hands under your arms so he can drag you upright next to him, but your bed is so small that you have to lay half on top of him to fit.

It’s not the first time you’ve laid like this. Luke does this whenever he’s trying to keep you from falling asleep, so you have no idea why it feels so different right now.

Gods, you think you feel ill. You wonder if you need an AED to shock your heart back into a normal rhythm.

“I’ll give you five minutes, okay?” Luke says. “Then we can start our long day of nothing.”

Five minutes turns into fifteen when he starts talking to you about what he’d helped his sister with earlier. Then twenty minutes bleeds into forty-five while you listen to him talk about the latest joke his brother pulled on him since you haven’t been around to give him prank-immunity.

It feels like you’ve been doused with cold water when you realize it’s not Luke’s stories that’s keeping you awake. It’s not him forcing you to sit up with him that’s doing it, either.

You’re being kept wide awake by the butterflies taking flight inside your chest.

Holy fucking shit.

notes: alternatively, three times someone called luke your boyfriend and the one time you realized you actually really liked it

lol! 5.4k words whew whew whew please scream with me about them

series masterlist

It's too hot outside

Japes and Jubilation, Pt 1

The Sanctity of Sacred Spaces Masterlist

The various antics of the crews and the various ways you’re involved in it.

YOU ARE HERE | (Part 2) | (Part 3) | (Part 4)

Part 1: Eyebrows

Hakugan comes with a little request

Rapid-fire knocking—no, pounding at your door made you scowl and throw down the pair of pants in your hands. What was the point of telling the crew to knock so they wouldn’t disturb your work if they’d go ahead and slam on your door like the world was ending?

Yanking the door open, you greeted the perpetrator with a curt, “What?”

Hakugan swayed on his feet, as if he didn’t almost bring your door down. Uncaring of your irritation, he leaned closer to you. “Are you free? Can I come in?”

You raised an eyebrow but stepped aside. “What do you need, Hakugan?”

“Do you have any of that sticky fabric thing?”

“What?”

Hakugan brought his hand together and pulled them apart, mimicking some sort of ripping, peeling sound.

“... Do you mean velcro?”

“Yes! Do you have any more of that.”

“I do, why?”

He leaned closer to you, excitement in his body language. “I have an idea.”

Seeing the man nearly vibrating in unrestrained glee, you held your composure for a few seconds before ultimately caving. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”

Hakugan let out a little cheer, leaning closer as he rapid-fired off his idea to you. A slow smile cracked over your face as you envisioned the visual laid out. “Okay. I’ll do it. Do you have a spare?”

Hakugan whipped out a mask from the recesses of his boiler suits, and you twitched at the fact he already prepared for your involvement with it. You shook your head, disappointed with yourself that you were using such precious materials on something so silly. The only saving grace (and reason that you were doing it in the first place) was that there were some scraps left over from when you made the attachable pockets for the boiler suits.

As you laid out everything on your work table and turned your light on, you could feel the helmsman hovering behind you, peering over your shoulders. You got through the first half of your task, used to the man’s antics. It wasn’t a bother until your elbow began knocking into Hakugan. You stopped your work and looked back at him, and he tilted his face up to you, cocking his head silently.

Before you could regret it, you gingerly offered him your sewing needle. “Do you want to try?”

Hakugan perked up, and you could almost imagine an imaginary tail wagging behind him. “Are you sure?”

“Yos. I’ll walk you through it.”

He was a surprisingly good student, attentive and focused despite what his general demeanor might’ve shown him to be. There were a few learning curves and adjustments where you had to help him hold and position the fabric, but soon he was merrily finishing it up on his own.

Hakugan held up the mask, letting out a victorious cheer. “Alright! Thank you so much!”

You let out an affirmative ‘yos’ . “Don’t think much about it.”

The two of you remained holed up in your workshop until it was time to switch off the navigation teams, heading there together with the others who would be navigating the Tang through this turbulent part of the waters.

Morsa pulled the door open for the lot of you, and Tanaka sighed at seeing the relief shift coming to take over. “Glad you guys are here!”

“Hm,” Hakugan said as he left your side, and walked up next to the taller topographer, falling back into his role as helmsman easily. Nobody noticed that anything was amiss as he made sure that his mask was obscured for the most part. “What’s the update?”

“Well, it seems like we’ve moved out of the enclosed space so far,” Tanaka said. “We—”

His words cut off in a choke as he glanced at Hakugan.

“Hm, what was that, Tanaka?” Ikkaku asked as she squinted at the sonar system.

“Guys!” The bespectacled man grabbed Hakugan by the shoulders and spun him around to face everyone.

The navigation room fell silent as they saw Hakugan’s mask. The man tilted his head innocently, hands coming up to the mask. “What?”

Loud ripping noises echoed in the room as he peeled off the thick, dark eyebrows and slapped them on to make a confused frown. 

“Hakugan,” Ikkaku began. “What the fuck.”

Said helmsman shot a thumbs up to the crew.