Or it's because of @Skywalker_T-65's utterly single-minded, wholesome devotion to his one true shipwife that we ship him with the soft STACKs of the converted carrier he's clearly meant to be with.
Eh, they're all manifestations of the same ship, so it ain't cheating.

Just means twinning, which is to say having really comfortable sleeping arrangements except during the height of summer, in which case Sky probably wants to either die to end his heat related suffering, or move the entire sleeping arrangements inside a meat locker/cooler. Oh and your girlfriend arguing with herself, which generally means minor boyfriend injuries sustained as a result of aggressively induced marshmallow hell via hull collisions.

-=-=-

Then we get to Alaska, and her place in the mess vis-a-vis her stated issues. Which will be a big fat To Be Continued from this, because I've got plans I need to check out with the author.
I'm viewing it as Atago trusts Cameron implicitly - otherwise she'd likely be the very last obstacle between him and Alaska, and an insurmountable one at that. On the other hand, ships gonna ship, and ships tend to sleep in cuddlepiles. And Alaska by this point is probably closer to her that anyone else, barring perhaps her sisters Takao, Maya, and/or Choukai (and of those three, Takao is the one she'd be closest to of all). Considering that, and the fact as a heavy cruiser she's not typically going to have Destroyers escorting her, she's going to be lonely all the time and likely doesn't feel okay going to the Destroyers. Alaska would be aware of it by this point, and she obviously was due to calling in her 'favor' with Cameron.

Got to give mad respect to a teen that can 'eyes up soldier' around Atago for almost a week straight, especially when being that close to her in a half-dressed, down to nearly fully undressed, state, and sleeping in the same bed as her cuddle buddy.

And then comes in his girlfriend, dead on her feet, seeing them on the bed together with him on her friend's lap, ignores that, takes a shower, goes back to the bedroom in nothing but a fleece robe (mad respect again for Cameron in that he didn't even try to sneak in a peek), and promptly 're-arranged' everyone else to be: a) spooning companion, and b)pillow/blanket substitute. Again, while everyone is basically down to their skivvies.
 
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Re-reading some parts, I kind of get the feeling there will be a Frisco-Lou-Prinz triple as well. And poor Kirishima...she has feelings for Wash but Wash only has eyes for Gale. The littlest Kongo needs someone, too! (Though I hope she doesn't transfer her hots for Wash onto Crowning; could get kinda awkward with Jersey...)
I believe that Kiri already has, if her fanfic from her last entry is anything to go by :/
 
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Be ironic if the next battleship summoned was SoDak (the other BB present at Kiri's final battle) and she (SoDak) ended up fangirling over Kiri like Kiri did with Wash. :D
 
@theJMPer you brought this on yourself.
Looking out over the corner of the bar, one battleship slowly raised a glass to her lips, feeling the bourbon pour down her throat. The pounding of the band's kick drum didn't drown out the break in her heart, and no matter how much she drank it just burned in her gut. Alcohol wouldn't salve her pain, and she still heard him talking, leaning on that rail out over the Potomac like it was yesterday.

As the glass slammed down, the bartender slowly ambled up to fill it. Another shot of the barrel-aged rye went into her glass- and then, next to it, a small flute, filled to the top with a light, honey-like drink.

"Th' fuck?" the Battleship New Jersey asked, her brain racking itself over the new drink. The bartender shrugged, pointing down to the other end. "From the gentleman in black."

Tipping back her whiskey, Jersey shrugged. Booze was booze, and she was only drinking something good because she'd already drank them out of the rotgut. Sipping at it, she nearly dropped the glass as hints of cinnamon and clove played across her mouth, playing with the warm apple flavor.

It tasted like pie.

Turning, Jersey raised herself off the barstool and started moving towards the man in black. Soon enough, the black turned to pinstripes under the light, faint cream and gold accenting his height as he smiled slightly. His own glass was still full, the drink bubbling much like a French 75 was liable to.

"Hey." Jersey said, glaring at him. "What is this?"

The man smiled, his blue eyes closing for a second. "Something you might like. My family calls it apple pie in a glass."

Jersey blinked, the moment of humanity causing the near two liters of alcohol she'd drunk over the last eight hours to come crashing into her. "Wat."

"It's a moonshine, flavored with a little of this and that."

As Jersey started rebooting her computers, she looked carefully at the man. "Do I... *know* you?"

The man shrugged, holding out a hand. "Juan de Iberez. I'm one of the foremen at the yards. Might have worked on you or your kit once or twice- what guns do you use?"

"Mark 7, sixteen-inch fifty caliber." Jersey replied. "Triple mounts."

Juan smiled, laughing. "Only triples I've handled were eights, so that rules that out. Still, it's rude to talk work when you're relaxing with a pretty girl."

Jersey's smile, starting to creep up on her cracked like glass. "A pretty girl." she muttered, leaning on the bar. "God forbid, someone who sees a girl. Hah!"

"Hard not to when you're throwing your chest out there like a hat rack." Juan remarked slyly, taking a pull at his drink.

"What, not afraid I'm going to point a naval rifle at you for daring to want something warm?" Jersey bit, turning to face him. Shaking his head, Juan rapped the bar twice and pointed to the empty flute of Jersey's Apple Pie and his own French 75.

"Not the first gun I've had pointed at me in the name of a good-looking woman." Juan said, raking back his long hair, the curls of sawdust blonde trying and failing to shadow half his face. "Hell, not even the first time someone's threatened to make sure there wouldn't be a body."

It might have been the booze, it might have been the challenge. It might have come from the apple pie sitting on the bar, warm and seductive and similar enough to be familiar but different enough to force her out. Either way, Jersey was thinking, and when the gears in her head and FCC were sufficiently lubricated with bourbon they made... interesting ideas.

"So..." Jersey asked, thinking to herself about how to phrase this. "Tell me, Juan; have you ever gotten to see the midnight submarine races with someone with firsthand knowledge of the sport?"

Juan blinked twice, and laughed. "Really? Really? You're fucking kidding me."

Jersey drew herself up, right until Juan kept speaking. "I mean, the answer's yes, but not until you come up with a pickup line that's not shit."

Jersey blinked as Juan started sipping on his second drink. "Sit down for a minute, alright? I mean... I heard rumors about the side effects of being a ship, but I never expected the naval jokes to actually be a thing. Two drinks talking before we do anything rash, no?"

"Alright." Jersey said, shaking her head. "I drink fast, though."

A link to the full thing may be found via my pastebin or my Discord server.
 
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Maybe one of Jersey's sisters (Iowa or Wisky) being summoned would help her emotions a little. (Mo, not so much...apparently she's a lot like Pennsy with her regard to the war.)
 
I would think Mo would probably be the healthiest of them all about it, really. The Empire of Japan surrendered on her deck, and for most of her career after, Japan was a steady ally. A career that was long and distinguished, and ran so long I walked on her deck when she was still active. Of all of them, Mo's likely got the least problem with serving besides Japanese botes.

However, since she spent most of her career as a Cold Warrior, she might have some issues with Russians or Chinese...
 
I would think Mo would probably be the healthiest of them all about it, really. The Empire of Japan surrendered on her deck, and for most of her career after, Japan was a steady ally. A career that was long and distinguished, and ran so long I walked on her deck when she was still active. Of all of them, Mo's likely got the least problem with serving besides Japanese botes.

However, since she spent most of her career as a Cold Warrior, she might have some issues with Russians or Chinese...
Might have lingering issues with the Koreans and Vietnamese as well, but all of that probably PALES when compared to her absolute hatred of the Taliban's successors/modern terrorists in general.

It's one thing to go after a military target. Mo can likely accept that, hate it, but move on. Deliberately hitting civilian targets as an opening strike, with full intent to cause massive casualties?

I think even the Abyssals would be more forgiving than Mo.

(You do have to wonder how those groups are doing in a world with both Abyssals, who target everybody, and shipgirls - who can tank damn near anything a terrorist could possibly throw at them, and then return the favor several thousand fold without even bothering to call back-up)
 
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None of them were awake for that.
Technically, Jersey and Wisconsin were reinstated under the National Defense Authorization Act from 1996, all the way through to 1999, when J was traded for Iowa by the Strom Thurmond National Defense Authorization Act, until 2006 when they were removed again.

TL;DR Iowa and Wiskey remember.
 
Technically, Jersey and Wisconsin were reinstated under the National Defense Authorization Act from 1996, all the way through to 1999, when J was traded for Iowa by the Strom Thurmond National Defense Authorization Act, until 2006 when they were removed again.

TL;DR Iowa and Wiskey remember.
That and Mo is effectively standing guard (however unofficially, although everyone knows it) 24/7/365 over Arizona, meaning she'd know as well.
 
One thing I like, is that JMSDF ships man the rails when entering Pearl Harbor, even though they don't have to, being a foreign hull. To my knowledge, since at least 1980, not once have they failed to do so.
 
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