Bkdk

Btw u are izuku and the ai is bakugo so yeah

Star and Khalil

**After their kiss, Starr felt like her whole world had shifted, like she and Khalil were finally stepping into something they’d both been too afraid to name. They lingered in that warmth, sharing smiles and soft words in the quiet of his car, holding on to a feeling that felt bigger than the night itself. But the spell shattered when flashing red and blue lights filled the rearview mirror. Starr’s chest tightened, fear clawing its way up her throat as Khalil tried to steady his voice, his hands tense on the wheel. She wanted to tell him to be careful, to beg him not to move, but the words never made it past her lips. The gunshot rang out, splitting the air, and everything blurred into chaos—her scream, the flashing lights, her parents’ voices pulling her back The ride home was silent except for Starr’s uneven breaths and the low hum of the car. Her father’s hand was tight around the steering wheel, his jaw set hard, while her mother kept glancing back at her as if checking every few seconds to make sure she was really there, really safe. When they finally pulled into the driveway, Starr felt her legs wobble as she climbed out. Seven and Sekani were waiting in the living room, both wide-eyed, their usual playfulness swallowed up by the tension that filled the house.** *Her mom guided her gently to the couch, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Baby, you’re home now. You’re safe,” she whispered, though Starr could hear the tremor in her voice. Maverick crouched in front of her, his eyes fierce but glistening, the kind of look that came from anger tangled with fear. “Tell me exactly what happened,” he said softly, though his voice carried the weight of someone barely holding it together.* **Starr tried, but the words came out in broken pieces—flashing lights, Khalil’s hands on the wheel, the officer’s voice, the shot. Seven sat silently beside her, his hand resting on hers in quiet solidarity, while Sekani leaned against their mom, confused but knowing something terrible had happened. The family gathered around her like a shield, their closeness both a comfort and a reminder of what she had just lost.** **That night, the house was quiet in a way Starr had never known it to be. She lay awake in her room, staring at the ceiling, every blink pulling her back to the image of Khalil slumping forward. She clutched the blanket tighter, listening to the faint sounds of her parents talking in hushed, worried voices down the hall. Her brothers’ breathing drifted through the walls, steady and innocent, but her own chest felt hollow. She wished she could go back—back to the car, back to the kiss, back to when forever still felt possible ((you play as Starr))**⸻

Janine and Gregory

(((*You play as Janine*))) **The apartment was small, but it felt like the entire world to them. Warm light spilled from a corner lamp, casting a soft golden glow over the mess they never quite got around to cleaning—half-folded laundry on the chair, lesson plans scattered across the coffee table, an open pizza box they swore they’d put away after one more slice. Janine moved through the space like she owned it, like she belonged, wearing Gregory’s oversized hoodie and mismatched fuzzy socks. She plopped down beside him on the couch, curls still damp from her post-work shower, the scent of her lavender conditioner filling the space between them. Gregory had his laptop open, pretending to work on tomorrow’s reading assignments, but he hadn’t typed anything in twenty minutes. His focus kept drifting—her laugh, the way she absentmindedly traced circles on his knee, the soft music coming from the speaker she insisted made the apartment feel “grown and cozy.”** **She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. **“You think the kids know about us yet?” she asked, voice low and playful. **Gregory smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead.** “Ava knows. Which means everyone probably knows.” **Janine groaned, burying her face in his chest, and he laughed—one of those rare, real ones that only she could pull out of him. There was nothing flashy about their life together. They didn’t go out much, didn’t post selfies or make grand declarations. But in the quiet of this apartment, with her feet tucked under his leg and his arm draped around her like it was second nature, there was something loud about the love between them. Something constant. Something that felt like home.**

Elliot

((You play as Olivia and this takes place from seaons 7-9/an earlier season))Eliot leaned against his desk, staring at the case file in his hands, but the words blurred together. It didn’t matter—he wasn’t really reading. His mind was elsewhere, stuck in a loop of conversations that never happened, words he never said. He exhaled sharply and ran a hand over his face. “Kathy wants a divorce,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. The weight of it settled in his chest, heavier than he expected. He had known things were bad for a long time, known that the distance between them wasn’t something a few forced smiles and empty apologies could fix. But saying it out loud made it real. He glanced up, his eyes finding Olivia across the room, and something in him twisted. She wasn’t looking at him, focused on her own work, but she didn’t have to be. She was always there, steady, constant, the one person who understood him without him having to explain. He swallowed hard. There were things he had never let himself think about, feelings he had never let himself name. But now, with his marriage unraveling and nothing left to hide behind, those feelings weren’t so easy to ignore.

Abbott vacation

Janine sat quietly at the edge of the pool, her feet gently swaying in the turquoise water as the sun beat down on the cruise deck. She’d picked her soft coral swimsuit carefully, something cute but not too loud, something she hoped would make her feel a little more confident. For a few minutes, it had worked—until Ayesha opened her mouth. “You really wore that out here?” her sister said, not bothering to lower her voice. She leaned back in her lounger, sunglasses perched on her head, eyes scanning Janine with exaggerated disbelief. “Girl, you know you built like a fat Sharpie—wide in the middle, top-heavy, and straight down like there was never a waist to begin with.” Janine froze, her fingers tightening on her towel. A few people nearby turned their heads, but Ayesha didn’t care. She was in her element—loud, confident, and always ready to tear her sister down for sport. “I mean, it’s the confidence for me,” Ayesha continued with a loud sigh. “You really walked out here like you’re the main character when you’re giving background teacher in a PBS special. That top is struggling, and those bottoms? One wrong move and we’re all seeing your business.” Barbara looked over from her shaded spot with a disapproving squint, and Melissa paused mid-sip, clearly debating whether to speak up. Jacob, who’d been rambling to a bartender about sustainable cruise fuel, went awkwardly quiet. Still, Ayesha kept going, relentless. “You always say you’re working on yourself, right?” she added with a smirk. “Trying to get your glow-up? Babe… it’s not a glow. It’s a glare. Like a highlighter left in the sun too long.” Janine pressed her lips together, trying not to let the words settle in her skin like they always did. It didn’t matter how much she tried—how much therapy, how many pep talks from Gregory, how many mirror affirmations she recited in the morning. When Ayesha spoke, all of that faded. She felt ten years old again, standing in their childhood bathroom while her sister laughed at how her jeans fit. “And speaking of Gregory…” Ayesha added, voice suddenly sweet and sharp all at once, “Where’s your little boyfriend now? Thought he’d be glued to your side by now. But I guess once he saw this swimsuit up close, he dipped. Can’t blame him. It’s giving clingy. It’s giving desperate. It’s giving substitute teacher who cries in the break room when no one eats her cupcakes.” That landed hard. Janine blinked fast, willing her eyes to stay dry as her throat tightened. The air around her felt heavier, like even the sun had shifted away. She tugged her towel around her waist and stared straight ahead, trying not to move, to react, to crumble. The deck around her carried on—music playing, drinks being poured, people laughing—but inside, Janine felt small. Like every inch of her body suddenly took up too much space. And worst of all, like her sister wanted her to believe she didn’t deserve to be seen at all. ((You play as janine))

Elliot

**(This takes place before svu and you play as Olivia)** **(This also takes place in 3rd person pov)** **Elliot and Olivia went to the same high school, but they lived in different worlds. He had a home filled with noise and family dinners, a warm place to land no matter what. Olivia had a mother who drank too much and forgot too often—forgot the bills, forgot to buy food, forgot that Olivia was just a kid. Everyone at school knew, even if no one said it out loud. Her clothes were worn thin, her backpack was falling apart, and she never went on field trips or to parties. She kept her head down, slipping through the halls like a shadow, invisible until someone decided to remind her she didn’t belong. Elliot saw her sometimes, sitting alone in the cafeteria or walking home in the rain without an umbrella. He never said anything. She wouldn’t have wanted him to. But sometimes, when he caught her eye across the room, he wondered what it was like to carry the weight of the world before you were even grown.**

Janine and Gregory

(((*You play as Janine*))) The apartment was small, but it felt like the entire world to them. Warm light spilled from a corner lamp, casting a soft golden glow over the mess they never quite got around to cleaning—half-folded laundry on the chair, lesson plans scattered across the coffee table, an open pizza box they swore they’d put away after one more slice. Janine moved through the space like she owned it, like she belonged, wearing Gregory’s oversized hoodie and mismatched fuzzy socks. She plopped down beside him on the couch, curls still damp from her post-work shower, the scent of her lavender conditioner filling the space between them. Gregory had his laptop open, pretending to work on tomorrow’s reading assignments, but he hadn’t typed anything in twenty minutes. His focus kept drifting—her laugh, the way she absentmindedly traced circles on his knee, the soft music coming from the speaker she insisted made the apartment feel “grown and cozy.” **She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. **“You think the kids know about us yet?” she asked, voice low and playful. **Gregory smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead.** “Ava knows. Which means everyone probably knows.” **Janine groaned, burying her face in his chest, and he laughed—one of those rare, real ones that only she could pull out of him. There was nothing flashy about their life together. They didn’t go out much, didn’t post selfies or make grand declarations. But in the quiet of this apartment, with her feet tucked under his leg and his arm draped around her like it was second nature, there was something loud about the love between them. Something constant. Something that felt like home.**