"youve Already Written That Trope" Yesss. I Like It A Lots. I Will Be Writing It Again. 1000 Stories

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Shortest

Sacred Spaces masterlist, Heart Pirates reader-insert

Being the shortest in the crew has its perks and drawbacks.

Being the shortest came with its fair share of trouble with life on the Polar Tang.

For a submarine, the Polar Tang was built almost luxuriously. But the caveat was that it was built with height in mind. It was a blessing for many of your crew, those like Jean Bart and Shosai being able to navigate the halls comfortably for the most part (though the size of the navigation seats couldn’t be helped). It was a curse for shorter members like you, especially when you needed to get something from the kitchen cabinets.

‘Sugar’ glinted mockingly down at you in blocky letters, the container somehow set atop the uppermost shelf. Grumbling, you glanced around to make sure nobody was there before gingerly climbing atop the counter. Your fingers trembled as they fell a few scant inches short of the container.

How Risso managed to navigate the kitchen despite only being taller than you by a bit always stumped you.

Before you could do something drastic, a weight pressed into your back, pressing all the air out of you as someone invaded your space. Red strands of hair fluttered into your vision, and you muttered a curse as Shachi’s familiar voice rang in your ears. “Aw, does our wittol Taiwor need some help to get something from up high?” 

“Shut up!” You barked, trying to shake off the redhead’s bulk, lunging for the sugar, but too late as tanned fingers swooped them from the shelf. 

The man stepped back for you to hop down, and you did, whirling around to face him. Though he was the shortest of the Swallow Island quartet, he was still tall enough to easily keep the tin out of your reach as you reached.

“I just wanted some goddamn tea!”

“What’s the magic word?”

Incensed, you jumped at him, making sure your boots landed on his toes. “I’ll make a pincushion out of your ass, Shachi!”

***

Being the shortest did really come with its fair share of teasing. 

You ducked, avoiding the arm that Hakugan was throwing over you, ready to use you as an armrest. “Oi!”

The helmsman yipped, toppling over as he couldn’t correct himself in time. “Hey!”

His arm latched onto the back of your suit, bringing you down with him. You both landed on the navigation room floor with a thud, immediately breaking into a half-hearted squabble as the two of you wrestled on the floor.

“You idiot! Why’d you pull me down!”

“I was falling!”

Your fist bonked onto the forehead of his mask, not enough to damage anything, but strong enough for him to feel your ire. “I told you that you needed to stop putting your arm on my head!”

“But you’re so convenient as a table! Just the right height!”

“Shut up, Hakugan!” You gritted, one hand pushing back his own as you fought him from palming your face. “You’re not even that much taller than me!” 

You were ready to grapple him until a winner emerged, but a metaphorical rope was thrown your way when you saw the wobbly top point of a familiar hood. Muscles straining, you froze, pushing back Hakugan’s hands as you quickly hatched up a plan.

“Helmsman on the floor!” You yelled, scrambling off of him as some of the crew honed in on the sight.

It had the exact result you wanted.

“Dogpile Hakugan!” Clione yelled, diving on top of the already downed pirate.

That prompted a chain reaction for some of the other members present, Ikkaku and Shachi following suit. The masked man let out a weak wheeze underneath everyone that quickly turned to terror as thumping footsteps approached. The crew screamed as Bepo’s shadow fell over them.

“Bepo, no!”

“Please stop!”

“I’m gonna die!!!” 

You scuttled away before the navigator could turn on you.

***

Being the shortest meant that Bepo’s hugs enveloped you completely, even more so than any of your other crew members. There were many a time when you’d startled someone hidden in the depths of Bepo’s fur by responding to something. You often used that to your advantage, hiding within the safe confines of his bulk to de-stress

A questioning call of your name roused you from where you lay, swallowed up by Bepo’s fluff. After a moment of contemplation, you poked your head up. “Yeah?”

Tanaka screamed, a high-pitched note that rivaled Mozart’s, startling Bepo beneath you. He pushed his glasses up nervously and cleared his throat as you two leveled an unimpressed look at him. “Ahem. Sorry. Can you help fix my cap?”

A second look showed that he was wringing said brown cap in his hands, his jaw-length locks swaying free. From where you were, you could see the frayed threads, something that would most likely mean a painstaking session bent over your table. But despite your aching back, duty called. You sighed and began to struggle up from where you were lying. “Alright, let me s—”

The rest of your sentence was cut off by a yelp as Bepo’s arms latched around your midriff, pulling you back. He rolled to the side, locking you underneath hid arms. “No, sorry. Rest time.”

“B-But I’m the ship’s tailor!” You protested. 

“Captain’s orders. If it’s not major, then you’re not working,” Bepo murmured, nuzzling his head atop of yours. “Tanaka repair your own things. Sorry.”

~~~

Sometimes your height was useful to the crew in more serious ways.

Law handed you a slip of paper, a rough map drawn on it. A bar’s name was written and marked on top of everything, and you already knew what to expect. “Tailor-ya, think you can scout out this place for me?”

“Sure thing. The usual?”

“Yes. Dress down, and try not to interact with anything too much.”

You took the paper, scanning over the map before pocketing it for disposal later. “Got it, Captain.”

“Uni and some of the younger crew members will be on the island for supplies restocking, but they might not be around when you set out, so expect to be on your own.”

“Yes, sir.”

While the crew prepared their pre-docking procedures, you made your way back into your workshop, digging out an outfit in preparation for those going onto the island. It was during times like these that Law’s strict modus operandi came in handy. No unnecessary, garish, attention-seeking skirmishes, uniforms to blend in with each other as much as possible, and a fair amount of time being underwater ensured that the Heart Pirates’ individual identity still remained in a gray area. That, along with your height, made you especially unnoticeable compared to the other members. So once you took off the distinctive uniform and the more distinctive sunhat you wore out, you were the perfect person to move about unnoticed.

You were rummaging for a shirt when the overhead intercom system crackled to life, Law’s low voice filtering through. “Everyone, we’ve arrived.”

Ditching your current task, you followed your nakama up the metal stairs to the entrance doors. Uni, Clione, and the newer members (though not too new, since they’ve been with you all for a few months already) were readying to leave, the hooded man jumping and rushing over when he saw you.

The blonde shoved a small dagger into your hand, patting the appendage. “I heard you’re going out later. It’s nothing big but just in case.”

“Thank you,” you said gratefully, squeezing Clione’s hand before he pulled away to vault over the railing to the dock below (to Law’s loud chastising for him to ‘stop doing that goddamnit you’re gonna break your ankle!’).

You and Law watched the merry band head off, you waving, while Law was as stoic as ever. When the group disappeared around the corner, the man turned to head back into the submarine, and you followed suit.

“Do you need anything before you head out later, Tailor-ya?”

“No. I’ve got everything prepared. Should I join the crew to help with our post-docking procedures?”

Law exhaled through his nose. “I told you already. You don’t have to do that whenever I send you out for surveillance. Just rest up. I need you to be sharp for tonight.”

You gave him a joking salute and split off to head to your workshop. “Got it, Cap’n!”

Your workspace did need some tidying, so you puttered around in the little room until the sky outside the porthole got dark, shucking off your boiler suit and pulling on your outfit for the night. Something nondescript, darker to blend into the area, but not so that you’d look suspicious. One final glance at the map Law gave you confirmed where you were going before you shredded the paper and left.

Ikkaku poked her head out to say a quick goodbye as you breezed past, Risso following suit with a reminder to come back in time for dinner.

“I’m making the Captain’s favorite tonight!”

The thought of his warm food got you drooling. “Got it!”

The night air was gentle on your face as you stepped out of the submarine. Law was already on deck, and he turned to greet you. “Do you have everything?”

You nodded, patting your waistband where you hid Clione’s knife. “I have the dagger Clione left me.”

“Good.” Law tossed a rope ladder over the submarine side, and you began climbing down. “Don’t be reckless.”

Your boots hit the wood below you. “I won’t.”

The map was burned into your mind’s eye as you navigated deeper into the little island town. Even with the encroaching night, a few establishments remained lit. However, the number of souls on the street decreased as you headed closer to the bar of interest.

Noise slammed into you the moment you opened the doors, a disorienting contrast from the quiet outside. However, the chaos was an advantage as you slipped in without drawing any attention, eyes skimming over the area. Your ears caught the murmuring of a familiar moniker.

Bingo. Law’s information was true as always.

You slipped into the bar seat nearest to your target, ordering a lighter drink and settling down.

There were always a few things you kept a lookout for. Movements of other powerhouses, mentions, and bounties relating to the Heart Pirates. But the main one was anything relating to Doflamingo. It was a given, with your Captain’s past hanging over the crew. There was no one other than that man who everyone kept such vigilant eyes and ears out for, anything picked up relayed back to Law with haste. Depending on the nature of the information, it would set the course of your trip for the next few weeks, whether it be submerged deep below water or sailing at a breakneck speed to another place.

Their organizations, as well as any and all names the Donquixote leader went by, were long-memorized by you so that you could catch any and all information.

Your skin crawled at the mentions of slaves passed offhandedly between the men at the table. An auction, generously funded by Joker, on an island north of here. A rare commodity considering he never liked to dabble in this part of the Blue, so far away from his normal base of operations.

You stuck around for as long as you could, picking up the date and location passing between booze-loosened lips. Hearing enough, you paid for your drink and slid out of your seat, making your way to the bar exit. As you rounded the corners of the streets, you thought that everything went well enough, until the shuffle of footsteps fell in line behind you.

“Going somewhere so quickly? I’m surprised you didn’t stay for longer.”

You stilled, slowly pivoting to face the man behind you, feeling the way your body broke into a cold sweat. Though you didn’t show anything as you asked, “What are you talking about?”

“I thought we had a little rat listening to us. I just wanted to see what tidbits were swiped by greedy hands while my friends were discussing business.”

Resisting the urge to scoff at his cheesy words, you backed up, hand clasping over the hidden blade Clione forced into your hands earlier. Its handle was sturdy under your hands, but you didn’t have a chance to use it. Faster than you could react, he was in front of you. Pain exploded in your gut as he slammed a foot into it, sending you flying and hitting the wall of the opposing building and falling to the ground. You retched, stomach acid and spit coming up as you curled in to cradle your stomach. A shadow fell over your curled-over form, and you tensed, hand clenching the handle in your grip. Scuffed boots appeared at in your vision, and you struck, forcing battered muscles into overdrive as you swiped the dagger up, hoping it’d land.

The blade glanced harmlessly off him and the man slammed into you, vision exploding into stars before your air was cut off. You were dragged up, feet leaving the ground.

Oh no.

Though you haven’t been doing this for too long, you’d gotten careless at the ease in which the previous mission went.

You clawed at the vice-like grip around your neck, your borrowed dagger clattering to the ground as the man choking you out wretched your dominant hand to the side. The tips of your boots scrapped the ground beneath, barely making contact with the dirt. A glimpse of gleaming black on the limb holding you made you curse your luck.

Haki.

Damn him, you thought, baring your teeth in a desperate, animal display, ignoring the throbbing that came from the left side of your face. Even if you still had the knife in your grasp, you wouldn’t have escaped anyway. Someone with Uni’s stature or Moose’s strength could’ve handled it. But not you.

Jeering laughter echoed around you as you aimed weak kicks at the one holding you up.

“Who do you work for? Or are you just some nosy brat?” He asked, shaking you around like a rag doll.

Your eye bulged out of your head as he squeezed. The bones of your neck creaked like fragile butterfly wings within his hold. Against his size and abilities, you were helpless. A toy for the larger dogs to chew up. Your skin prickled as you felt eyes raking down your form, and you felt exposed without your usual thick, baggy boiler suit.

It shouldn’t have been like this.

Law was going to be upset.

“Hm, I could make you squeak. I’ll just have to take you back to my boys—”

“Let go of my nakama!”

The rest of his words were cut off by a grunt as something slammed into him. The world went sideways as you slipped from the man’s grasp, landing with a rough tumble as rocks and pebbles dug into your unprotected skin. Taking a few moments, you drew in wheezy gasps before trying to stand up. 

Hands caught you as your legs crumpled, and you were scooped up into warm arms.

“H-Hang on,” Bowser’s voice reassured you. “Don’t worry! Uni and Penguin’s got it covered, and we’re going to bring you to the captain!”

You tried to speak, but all that sounded was a hoarse rattle, the ring of fire around your neck aching like a brand. Breathing was equally difficult, and you relented to force wheezing, whistling breaths through your windpipe, limp in your nakama’s hold all the way until you were laid out on the infirmary bed, back in the Polar Tang again.

Through the haze of pain, you forced a smile at the figures hovering above you, unable to discern anybody due to the light shining down. You knew it must’ve been an unpleasant sight, the blood vessels in your eyes no doubt ruptured from the trauma.

Your name was said alongside Law’s familiar honorific. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

That was all the reassurance you needed as Law’s Room flickered on. The feeling of his fruit sectioning you apart was familiar at this point, and you closed your eyes. Your full trust laid in your captain’s abilities as you fell into darkness.

For others, it would’ve been terrifying to be on the receiving end of Law’s powers, but you and the Heart Pirates have never been led wrong by him. 

By the time you awoke, you could breathe again. The deep inhale you did came with a dull ache, but nothing of the caliber that you felt before. Shuffling came from the side of your bed, and you glanced over to see your captain standing up from his chair.

“Don’t speak,” Law said brusquely, interrupting you before you could even begin. “You have two fractured ribs and severe bruising surrounding your neck and the facilities there. Luckily, nothing was broken. I did the best I could to realign everything, but there was not much I could do about the ruptured blood vessels. You’re on bed rest until you heal.”

You exhaled, the motion coming with a dull pain as the muscles around your jaws ached. Your captain didn’t meet your eyes, fussing with the various equipment on the bedside table next to you. A common sign of his guilt as he tried to act busy.

Reaching out, you grabbed the edge of his shirt sleeve and tugged, halting the man in his actions. You lifted a hand to mime writing something, which he understood right away. A pencil and paper were thrust into your hands, and you quickly got writing. When done, you shoved the pad at him.

‘Not your fault.’

Law huffed, passing the pad to you. He pressed a hand onto your head, pushing you down. “You’re literally in the infirmary bed right now. Because of a mission, I sent you on.”

‘I chose to go, I’m the best at it. It’s not like our lives are only full of sunshine and rainbows as pirates. And you fixed me up now, yeah?’

“You know better than to over-rely on me,” he scolded.

‘But you take care of us so well, Captain!’

Law scowled, tugging on his hat as he averted his gaze. You squinted, seeing a bit of pink flushing over his skin. “Whatever. Did you manage to gather anything important?”

At that reminder, you brightened, pencil flying across the paper. You wrote down all the information you heard from those men, ripping out the page and presenting it to Law with a flourish. He took it, scanning everything. Gold eyes widened as he comprehended the information written on it. He gingerly folded up the paper and tucked it into his pocket.

“Ah. I see. Thank you.”

Knocking echoed on the infirmary door, drawing your attention away. “Captain?” Bepo’s voice questioned through the door.

Law let out an aggrieved sigh. “The lot of you can come in. Tailor-ya’s awake.”

The door slammed open, and you jolted as a veritable pile of crewmates spilled in, with Bepo’s orange-bright suit in front. Law gave a final word of warning for them to be gentle before the group skidded to a stop in front of you. You smiled at them, ignoring the slight ache that bloomed where you got hit. You could see their hesitation and tilted your head.

“You had pretty bad bruising,” Law told you. “I removed most of the blood from the broken vessels, but the ones in your eyes are too delicate for me right now.”

He gritted his teeth, and you could see his silent decision being made. You could already see him looking for more medical texts the next time the Tang docked at an island.

“Are hugs allowed?” Somebody asked tentatively.

Law exhaled a sigh, lifting an arm to flap his hand dismissively. “Do whatever. It’s mostly cosmetic and very minor injuries left. But don’t be too rough, either way.”

That was all the approval you needed, and you opened your arms.

Bepo’s wrapped around you first, and you relaxed into the Mink, letting out a soft sigh as Law stepped back for more space. A hand landed on your head, ruffling your hair. Uni’s hand, based on the length of the fingers. More arms wormed beneath Bepo, over Bepo, but all of them wrapped around you. An offended squawk from the side signaled that even Law was roped into the mix.

Being the shortest in the crew had its drawbacks, sometimes serious ones. But you didn’t mind. You knew your nakama was there to support you.

NAMI PHOTOCARD 🍊💰🐱

[ What's the next character that deserves a photocard in this style? I think I'll stick with casual clothes in this series (≧▽≦) ]

Shares are appreciated 💖

Some toy pokemon doodles I worked on a while ago (including the rough draft of my slinky shinx I uploaded earlier this year)

I can’t get over how much they made chilchuck look like a sausage in the anime

Update on my one piece ship series!!

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

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“Gojo.”

You peer at him out of the corner of your eye, watching the tip of his finger creep closer and closer to the plush apple of your cheek.

“Gojo.”

The lilt in his voice is childish, teasing; the smirk on his lips rising when he promises, “I’m not touching you!”

“Satoru, I can feel it.” 

There’s a bite to the way you finally say his first name that drags the corner of his mouth further up. It stokes the fire burning between his ribs, the very flames that spur him to poke and prob and tease and annoy — all for the sake of your attention. All Gojo wants, all he’s ever wanted, is to have your eyes on him, to have your full, undivided attention; and with the way you huff, your arms crossing over your chest, he knows it’s well within his reach.

His head tilts to one side like a curious puppy, brows furrowing in feigned innocence. His finger doesn’t move. “Feel what?”

Infinity, you think bitterly. The weight of his power presses against your skin with the surging energy that two identical poles of a magnet have when they repel one another – doomed to never meet no matter how hard you push. And with the distance his finger stays from your face, Gojo’s Infinity almost tickles.

Gojo’s finger inches closer and the pulse of it, the sight of it in your periphery, has you seeing red. Your eyes shoot to meet his as you fully turn to face him, brows furrowed. Seething, you tell him, “You know what.”

There you are.

He knows, deep down, that it’s childish to go to such lengths for a glimpse at your eyes or the soft curves of your lips, but he can’t help it. Gojo’s at his weakest around you, after all. “I don’t think I do, angel.” He leans in, finger still hovering oh so close to your face. “Care to clue me in?”

Your eyes roll, but you make no move to look away. “You’re insufferable.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You sigh, long and heavy, as you allow your eyes to slip closed, and Gojo can tell you’re trying not to pinch the bridge of your nose, a cute little habit you only seem to indulge in when he’s around. He smirks and tilts his head to peer at you over his sunglasses. The tone in his voice is goading. “Well, go on.”

“You- you-” You flounder, mind rendered a blank slate as frustration floods your senses. Air escapes your nose, an exhale laced with incredulity, as a smile crosses your lips in a blink before it’s gone. You hide your face behind a warm palm. “You-”

“Mhm.” Gojo leans closer, sunglasses sliding further down the bridge of his nose. He drinks you in, eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips and back again. “What? C’mon, cat got your tongue, angel?”

“Your Infinity, Gojo. I can feel it,” you tell him, the words finally ripped from your throat by the gentle, but teasing coo of his voice. “It tickles.”

“Aww, that’s what all this fuss was about? You should’ve just said so.”

And as if a switch has been flipped, Infinity is gone and suddenly Gojo’s finger is surging forward to tap the tip of your nose. It’s a brief flash, a tiny bump of skin against skin before his hand retreats again, returning to its place by the sorcerer’s side as if it had never moved at all. Gojo smiles at you then, all pearly whites and unrestrained pride. The cat that got the cream. 

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed, ya know that?”