Japes And Jubilations, Pt 3

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

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

thinking abt him again

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! ✨

Bruh did I just get clocked wtf

Im really enjoying the scanlation of "the summer hikaru died" specifically cause thats a mother fucker who gets an american southern dialect. To often translaters remove dialect instead of adapting em.

"maybe it aint never was so black an white" <- horribly improper grammer. Exactly how my whole family speaks.

Dadzawa commission

Sobbing and crying when i think about the two main elf dungeon masters bc in a way thistle and marcille are very similar to each other

Both of them take on the mantle of dungeon masters with the motives to keep their loved ones safe/alive, thistle casting his immortality spell on the golden country and creating all this problem in the first place in order to protect his people and then marcille just right after that taking on the dungeon master mantle and capturing her group in order to keep them safe

Just thinking about how in their efforts to do good, they inadvertently hurt those they wanted to to protect aughhh thinking about loving something so much you hurt them because you can’t bear to let them go

Initiation

Part of "The Sanctity of Sacred Spaces" series

The Heart Pirates were overwhelming. So loud and chaotic that you didn’t know how you’d ever fit in with them. But you didn’t have any need to worry.

Takes place near the beginning of reader's journey with the crew.

Though you had joined (more like forced yourself into) the Heart Pirates in a blaze of chaos and explosions (quite literally), that courage didn’t stay in the aftermath of everything. When it was all said and done, and you’d stitched in a place on the Polar Tang as their tentative tailor, all the fight and bravery went down the drain.

Though you couldn’t say that you thrived on talking to others, you boasted fair enough people skills (which was more than could be said for their—your captain). Just enough for you to be known as a cordial and affable person. But with your history, growing up as you did, you had to say that your inclinations leaned more to that of reservedness.

The same could not be said for this new group of people you found yourself with.

They were loud, you already knew that from your initial introduction to them. But now, in close quarters and a confined space, the noise absolutely echoed. The sense of camaraderie was strong with them, inside jokes and banter flowing like water between them all. They would often include you in it too.

“Hey, Newbie!”

You froze as Ikkaku honed in on you, a touch of wildness in her eyes as she sped to you, dragging Clione along with her.

“Oi, don’t involve other people in with this!” the hooded blonde complained, but he still cornered you alongside the tall woman.

“We need you to settle this for us!” Ikkaku declared, crossing her arms. “Clione thinks that white lights are the best interior lights. But obviously, warmer lights are better than cool ones, yeah? You agree, right?”

“No???! Don’t influence the Newbie!”

“Shut up, you’re just angry because I’m right!”

“Uhm,” you began warily. “I think white lights are good if you want to maintain alertness, but warmer-toned lights are good for relaxation. Depending on what you need, one cn be better for your eyes than the other.”

Both stared at you blankly.

“Yeah, but which one is better?” Ikkaku prompted.

“I… They all have their…uses…”

Both members threw their hands up in twin displays of frustration. “That doesn’t help at all!”

They devolved back into their squabble, and you took a step away.

Two heads snapped at you. “Stay here!”

Your shoulders sunk down as you glanced furtively down the hall to see if anybody was coming. It seems like you’ll be stuck with them for a bit.

But not only did they pull you into the most mundane of conversations, but they were also touchy.

Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi were guilty of being particularly forward, the three having no qualms being in everyone’s space. While Bepo’s was well-intentioned—the Mink trying his best not to overstep his boundaries aside from when he’d scoop someone up in a hug—Penguin and Shachi had no qualms about holding back. Crewmates were often the victim of one or both of them leaning on them at once, on either side. The first time they did that, you nearly jumped a foot in the air, if not for their weight on you. 

The bolts of fabrics you were carrying thumped to the ground as you were jostled by twin pairs of arms, pushing you down. “Ah!”

“Whatcha got there, Newbie?” Penguin asked.

“New fabrics for the boiler suits,” you replied, wiggling out of their hold to hurriedly pick up the nearest roll, inspecting them for any stains. You would’ve snapped at the pair for making you drop them, but you were too busy fretting, and did not want to piss off the unofficial-official first mates of the captain. “I–Uh, C-Captain approved of this particular type. It’s more suitable to the conditions of the Tang than your suits now.”

“Oh shit, really?” Shachi crouched down right next to you, his side pressed up against your own as he grabbed the bolt of fabric you were holding while Penguin began gathering the other rolls.

The taller man tried to pick up all up, but let out a curse as their weight bore down on him. “Holy crap—”

You wobbled as his heat burned into your side, a hand reaching out to steady him as you took a few off to lighten the load.

“How the hell were you carrying so many with your stature?!?” Penguin ask incredulously, tugging his hat back in place.

“I’m used to it,” you said simply, reaching for the rest in his hold. However, a hand fisted the back of your current suit’s collar and hauled you up. “Ack–!”

“No need!” Shachi announced, wrapping his arm back around your shoulders. “Big Bro Peng and I will help you carry them!”

“Are you sure this is not you two trying to worm out of the Captain’s duties again…?” You asked.

“No way!”

“That’s silly!”

(They were, in fact, trying to dodge responsibilities.)

Though, despite their welcoming air, you couldn’t help but linger at the edges of everything. Too afraid to integrate yourself into their folds. Yes, you may have been brought on as their tailor—a position sorely needed as the most experienced person before you were the poor cook who at most knew how to do basic stitching—but you were still Newbie, first and foremost. Still clumsy when taking up the shared duties and occasionally getting lost in the halls. Your position here was strenuous at best, and you feared that there would be whatever reason that made them drop you off at the next island they docked at.

You peeked your head into the mess hall, wondering what was important enough that you were summoned there after your watch duties 

Shousai was the first to see you, the large, bald man waving a gloved hand at you. “Oi, Newbie, there you are!”

That sent an excited titter over the crew.

“Newbie’s here!”

“About time!”

“What took you so long?”

You took a tentative step into the room, but remained near the doors, wringing your hands. They had called you over the intercoms in the middle of you reworking he boiler suits, so it made you anxious to resume working.  “What’s… happening…?”

“Since, you’ve been doing a stellar job aboard the Polar Tang,” Bepo announced. “It’s about time that you get initiated into the group pose!”

“Group pose?”

The Mink nodded, completely serious. “Yes! We Heart Pirates take pride in our crew, so it’s imperative that we are ready to show that pride whenever Captain introduces us!”

Slowly shuffling backward, you asked, “Do I have to do it?”

“Yeah!” Clione yelled. “We all have to do it! You’re part of the crew, now. You can’t get out of this, Newbie!”

Hands grabbed your shoulders, and you looked back, expression full of betrayal as you found Uni to be the one pushing you to the group. The stoic man’s expression gave nothing away, except for the slightest pinch in the corners of his eyes that indicated amusement.

More hands grabbed at your arms when you were in range, Uni leaving to assume his position once he ensured that Shachi’s hold on you rendered escape impossible. You were shuffled from person to person, but for once, their touches didn’t make you tense nor freeze the way touches used to. They had, without you realizing, wormed their way through your guards as much as you’ve settled into their rank. In their endearingly Heart Pirates way.

Weak. Would have been what he called them. Called you. But those were just the whispers of the dead.

Shosai muttered your name as you were slotted right next to him. “You have to convince Risso to make something other than broiled rice cakes and peas and fish for dinner.”

“He says we have to try and conserve our supplies,” you protested quietly as Omura’s elbow dug into your shoulder.

“Yes, but we all know there are much better combinations than fish and peas.”

Scanning the group for the yellow newsboy hat and braids of the cook, you asked, “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“He likes you more!”

Bepo turned to give the both of you a chastising look as Shachi shushed you two. The Mink waited until the redhead ran through the positioning of your arms and legs. “Okay, Newbie! We’re going to do it now. Do you have the pose memorized?”

“Yes,” you said sulkily, resigned to your fate.

“Okay, Heart Pirates! Three, two, one!”

The crew burst into a clamoring of noise and limbs, you following suit with a heaping dose of embarrassment.

Your face burned  even hotter as, right after, the captain walked into the room. Law didn’t even blink as he saw the group of you in the mess hall, mug of coffee in his hands as he sipped on it. The crew held that pose, as if waiting for his approval.

He looked at you all with a sharp eye, amusement shining through as he cocked his head. “I think you should move Newbie-ya more to the left.”

“COME ON, CAPTAIN!”

Your face quivered as you fought a smile. Surrounded on all sides by lively figures, you undeniably felt warm.

Eventually, the nickname fell away, to be replaced with your own name or “Tailor”. Years later, as you and your nakama—a little bruised, and battered, but now twenty strong—assembled into that ridiculous group pose to greet Straw Hat, Shosai lifting you up onto his shoulders so you could throw your arms up and out into a victorious ‘V’, Jean Bart’s steady presence behind you, you couldn’t feel a greater sense of belonging.

Natsume :3