#My fanfics🖋

[kelin-is-writing]

18 + MDNI

dabi x fem!reader; quirkless!au. reader is younger than him but still of age. be aware.

roommate!dabi who wasn’t really fond of the idea of having a roommate, especially girl, because he liked to have his privacy and having to live with a girl was taking that away from him, even more when he wants to go around the house shirtless yet he can’t. but you’re his best friend’s little sister, so he has to suck it up, bear with it and adjust to it.

roommate!dabi who starts slowly to accept you in his (daily) life because of how friendly, understanding and compliant you are with him and his way of living. he actually starts to have more fun around you than your brother, he has even started to tease you and get comfortable enough around you to start roam around the house shirtless.

roommate!dabi who starts to enjoy the evenings where you spend time going through tv series that has him cringe and judge the characters while you laugh your ass off, not noticing the tender gaze he gives your way, or where you just start playing games out of bored that he lets you win only to see your smile and listen at you cheering excited, clueless about how you being this happy around him makes his heart flutter.

roommate!dabi who has started to find grocery shopping funny ever since he started to tag along with you. the way your eyes always sparkle whenever they see something tasty that you would like to try make him smile, without even noticing, endeared by how carefree and honest you are about everything that comes across your path. shit, he’s getting into a dangerous place right there...

roommate!dabi who now feels his fingertips itching from the want, the need, to touch you. so he uses the most little of the excuses to touch you like whenever your hair fall across your face, he takes the chance without a second thought and brushes it away getting a thankful smile from you and a small shy “thank you” that has him melting. he’s just taking care of you as his best friend’s little sister and a dear friend, this is what he keeps saying himself. he has to be careful there before stepping where there’s no way back.

roommate!dabi who now finds happiness in the smallest things like you giving him the good morning with that radiant smile of yours, washing the dishes together, walking together to collage, spending time together at his friend’s bar, going to visit your brother and his wife or when you ask him to taste some of the dinner you’re preparing so he can tell you what needs to be add or taken out. he just overall feel alive again thank to your presence in his life.

roommate!dabi who has now entered the stage of denial of his feelings for you, dismissing them for family affection and trying to ignore the pang in his chest whenever he sees you talk with other guys, because it reminds him about how someday you will be leaving your house and that breaks his heart despite himself. which is why he now has even started to try shut his feelings for you, he had to, before they became too deep he had to get rid of them, for the sake of everyone.

roommate!dabi who nearly has an heart attack when he once came back home and was off to the bathroom but walked in on you wearing only your underwears, getting ready for a bath, and the blush that formed across your pretty face was illegal, doing things to him just like that. he had froze for a couple of seconds before gulping and adverting his eyes he apologised getting out closing the door behind him. he heard you mutter a timid “it’s okay...” and no, it was so not okay.

roommate!dabi who is trying hard to pretend that accident didn’t happen, but it did! and it was haunting his dreams in the worst way possible, because he has now started to dream of you and fuck it wasn’t a normal one. you were in those lace underwears you had on when he walked in, laying on his bed all flushed on your face, legs spreading, arms stretched out toward him, begging him to make love to you and he does. when he wakes up he’s sweating, a painful and throbbing boner inside his boxers that makes him let out a frustrated “tch...” before he’s pulling his dick out and starts to run quickly his hand long his shaft while thinking about you naked, taking him deep inside of you, moaning his name. he’s screwed.

roommate!dabi who has now come to accept the fact that he has fallen for you horrendously, to the point it makes him want to vomit, and there’s no way of changing that. not when you’re living under the same roof, seeing each others everyday.

roommate!dabi who’s pissed, to say the least, by how calm you are. acting like nothing happened, while he’s all bothered and having wet dreams about you every night, fucking his fist because of them. so he choosed that he was done being only the brother’s best friend and actually wants to make you fall for him as bad as he has fallen for you, mentally apologising to his best friend for how annoying he’s about to become.

roommate!dabi who has started to be subtly more touchy with you so to make his presence linger on you and make you long for his touch. running his fingers delicately through your hair to compliment an hairstyle; resting his arm long the back of the couch and leaving his hand drop over your shoulder caressing faintly the side of your neck with the back of his fingers; pressing against you with an hand resting on your waist whenever you’re reaching out for things that are put on high shelfs; offering massages to “ease up your tensed up muscles” where he squeezes gently your thighs, strokes slowly and sensually your hips before pushing down on your lower back smirking wolfishly when you unconsciously let out a satisfied whimper or when he brushes away crumbs of food from the corner of your mouth and licks or sucks them off his thumb afterwards.

roommate!dabi who has noticed how you’ve started to be more conscious of him after he has hold you close to him by the waist that time your foot slipped on the stair and had you nearly break your neck. the way your lips where an inch away from each others and he was staring intensely down at you with a cocky grin on, because he had told you to watch your steps, while you were looking at him surprised by his quick reflexes and blushing from the proximity of your faces, a shiver making your whole body tremble and dabi smirked. he indeed noticed.

roommate!dabi who is now amused over how jumpy and on the edge you’ve become around him. at the slightest contact you would jolt, blush and move away from him hurriedly, voice turning high pitched as you try to seem unbothered but failing because you’re trying to suppress whatever you were feeling right now, just like he was at the beginning. he had you exactly where he wanted you to be: going crazy over him.

roommate!dabi who has noticed how you oggle at him whenever he’s shirtless after a shower, go in daze whenever he speaks, demand more for his attention, get excited and happy over his genuine praises towards you or how you now sit closer to him to be as close as possible to his body. in response he just demonstrates his love and adoration towards you with every little touch, word, look, gesture and just completely dotes on you to win your heart over after making you overly conscious of his presence.

roommate!dabi who casually asks you if there’s anyone you’re interested in and smiles tenderly when he sees the adorable blush that takes over your face up to your ears. he just can’t, you’re way too good and he’s so fucking in love with you it burns his whole being from the inside. he rests his arms long the headrest of the couch, right behind you, and leans closer to your hear: “as for me, the one i love is you...” and he kisses your ear making you curl up while your heart is about to jump out from your ribcage, when you turn to look at the older his adoring expression melts you and the second later he has leaned in kissing you on the lips softly before licking your bottom one slightly to taste the waters. when you reciprocate his kiss he’s euphoric, his hand goes to your nape as he angles his face to the side accommodating your lips before putting his tongue in and messing your brain completely with a single kiss. when the two of you parted staring into each others eyes, he smiled excited at seeing your answer plastered all over your face. now you were screwed in two.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #dabi #touya todoroki #bnha smut #mha smut #dabi smut #touya todoroki smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha x you #mha x you #dabi x you #touya todoroki x you #kelin 🖋 #these are like... extracts taken from a fanfic of mine lmfao #hope you guys enjoy them 💜

[brisquad-unit-4402]

Hello it’s me again! It’s been a while, I hope you’ve been doing okay. I recently have been reading through a lot of angst to comfort and I have an idea for a request!

May I request an Ike fic where reader is a liver in NIJISANJI and has a crush on Ike but knows they have no chance with him. Then one day reader accidentally spills their feelings to Ike and Ike comforts them after hearing about readers feelings?

I hope you’re not tired of me requesting Ike fics (ily him to much) and I hope you have a good day/night! <3

-🖋️

stars above your skin

oh 🖋 we're really in it now

how long have i had this request in my inbox? early march? and now exactly one day after blue light dropped, i give you a ~19.5k word ike fic. much love and effort has gone into this one, only seconded by the massive amounts of brainrot.

so yeah, i'm not tired of ike requests. i'm literally a quilldren that writes fanfic. this is the opposite of a problem

in fact this might be one of my favorite things i've written... the second half is such a good bedtime story for me...!

this is going to get NASTY to read on tumblr—as in my site is lagging so hard just typing these a/n notes. so i'm going to remind you all that not only is liking/reblogging recommended to keep track of this fic, but also that i have an ao3 account (same name as url but without dashsince it's much more accessible than tumblr for long fic. i recommend reading on tumblr if you can because of some formatting but to each their own!

here’s a funny story about this fic. i was working on it while a bunch of people sat behind me, you see, and one of my greatest irrational fears is that people sitting behind me will be able to see my laptop screen and laugh at what i’m writing…! and with these requests i usually title them the fandom name and my name, and a short phrase about the request, and this one was “workplace romance”, and i just got so afraid right then and there i changed it to the first thing i could think of, based off a clip i saw of pomu, selen, aia and doppio…!! and that’s why the wip doc is titled “nijisanji 4402 - pliskin”, and why i will always refer to this fic as "pliskin" much more than the actual title

by the way here’s a cover of iris that was pretty fitting for this fic. you’ll know when to play it. enjoy

tags: hurt/comfort, reader is a niji vtuber, gender neutral reader, off-collab, mutual pining, misunderstandings, fluff, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, cuddling, everyone in niji is your wingman, implied uki/ren if you squint but it’s mostly because uki will flirt with 80% of the men in this company

cameos: aia amare, alban knox, mika melatika, nina kosaka, ren zotto, uki violeta, vox akuma, fulgur ovid (mentioned)

⚠️ drinking/alcohol (unspecified if reader drinks alcohol)

⚠️ horror/gore mentions (non-detailed), out of context outlast spoilers i guess?

author's commentary here (spoilers) ↣

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There are dozens of these videos on YouTube, and never have you come across the same one twice. You would know. You have a bad habit of clicking on them. 

After all, they’re labeled with your name on them, and right next to it, Ike Eveland. You are smart enough to recognize it’s not worth your time and just another compilation of the same moments and fans trying to make a mountain out of a molehill, but your heart says otherwise. To be fair, the compilations were a much more recent development than the one you hid under lock and key. 

When you first joined Nijisanji, some of your senpais sent you messages full of greetings and offers to help you get on your feet as a streamer. Ike was one of those senpais, and whenever you popped into voice calls just to hang out, he was easy to talk to, like an old friend. Naturally, a fast friendship formed, and when you debuted, he was one of the first people you collabed with- and the one with the best reception. Your new fans (‘Bookworms,’ they called themselves, after your name Reader) loved how well your humor bounced off each other, and when weeks passed and you announced another collab on your schedule with Ike, your Bookworms rejoiced. 

Even when you weren’t working, you would still talk to him. He told you about his homeland in the past and his novels, both released and unpublished. He was a storyteller even when he was talking about something as minute as making a sandwich, and whenever you brought up your past and interests, he was an excellent listener. You had your differences, but he always knew what questions to ask so he could understand you better, and you loved the opportunity to ramble. 

It had been nearly three months since you debuted, and four if you count the day you were officially hired and began to build yourself as a streamer. Whenever you look at the endlessly long text history between you and Ike, you have to wonder: is it normal to feel so connected to someone you’ve only known for three-maybe-four months? 

You’re not an idiot. You aren’t about to say Ike is the most important thing in the world to you, but he gets pretty damn close. That terrifies you. You shouldn’t be so attached to someone you barely know. 

But then again, you trust Ike. He’s opened up to you about things he would never say to others, and he keeps your secrets buried in the grave. You’ve lost count of how much advice he’s given you, but you’ve never forgotten a single one, and whenever you feel lost about something you know you can count on him to help you out. 

You grimace, sip out of your drinking glass, and press ‘play’ on the next compilation. 

A cute intro plays with the clipper’s name. Above it are the words Pen and Paper, surrounded by puffy pink hearts. 

That was the duo name between you and Ike, but "ship name" was more accurate among fanwork.

You weren’t exactly unaware about it. Weeks ago, you were surfing Twitter and the site’s algorithm granted you your introduction into Pen and Paper. This was shortly after your first collab with Ike, and after you established your shipping rules with your audience (“I’m fine with anything, as long as the other liver is okay with it!”, you proclaimed, totally oblivious to how soon that would blow up in your face). The fanartist posted a messy black-and-white sketch, but you could make out the pattern of Ike’s scarf wrapped around you and him at the same time, forcing your bodies into close proximity with averted eyes and dusty blushes. 

You appreciated the fanartist’s passion and skill, but the thought of you and Ike as an item sunk in your chest like you swallowed a rock. You swiped past. You went back to your scrolling, found some good thumbnails, and retweeted some cute solo fanart, but before the week ended, you made a private account with a fake name and staked out the tags for Pen and Paper to follow that fanartist.

Damn fanartist. You tried to deny it, and told yourself that you followed their art because you liked the style. But their account was full of ship art, and when Twitter gave you similar users that all worked under the hashtag, you had to face facts. If you wanted to look at it optimistically, at least you figured it out early on before anything had the chance to sour while you were still blissfully ignorant of yourself; even then, that doesn’t make it any harder than it already is.

Besides all the texts, the meetings, the schedules and events, and then including the streams and collabs and the art and the fandom… 

“Why?” You ask out loud in the silence of your room. “Why did I have to fall for my coworker?”

And with audiences of over hundreds of people watching you fall for him, nonetheless!

It’s irritating. You have a job that keeps you motivated to work hard. It’s given you a dedicated fanbase, rare opportunities, and coworkers you all recognize as your friends. Really, finding someone to care for because of it should be a blessing, but it’s such a headache. What if your fanbases get jealous, or even worse, outright hate it? Would you be able to keep up a relationship when you and Ike are dedicated to your careers and streams? Why are you even thinking like this? You scold yourself. There’s no way this would ever work out. It’s all fantasy and smoke and mirrors, because fandoms love love. Shipping is never a reflection of the streamers, just the characters you play. You’re delusional if you think your stupid crush could actually go anywhere.

But fandoms love love. The only comfort you have is being able to pretend something could happen. The ship art is a lie, and so are the fanfics, and the clippers that tag their videos as Pen and Paper are just here for a possibility that never could happen.

The compilation is full of little hints and teases, and if you were being honest with yourself, most of it was more like two friends getting along than actual flirting. But you didn’t trust yourself to see your clumsiness for what it is when Ike’s little laughs are like music to your ears. 

Damage control, you tell yourself. It’s like studying how you play your favorite games. You can pinpoint where you stumble and leave yourself open for attack in Apex, Smash, even Crab Game, and then amend those mistakes the next time you pick up the game. Real life should be no different. Just stop acting so dorky all the time by finding moments of dork in your VODs and avoid them next time you talk to Ike.

This clip was from your second collab with Ike. Captions floated along the bottom of the screen. Ike's captions were in his signature blue.

IKE: You know, there’s a lot of content about us two as a duo.

READER: They call us Pen and Paper, right?

IKE: Yeah, my art tag is flooded with art of the both of us. 

READER: Oh my God, look at the chat. Mine’s full of people saying they love us together. 

IKE: Aww, thanks, Quilldren! I’m happy I can play with Reader too. 

READER: Thank you, Bookworms; thank you, Quilldren. Hey, there’s a lot more overlap than I expected.

IKE: They’re like Bookdren.

READER: Or Quillworms.

IKE: Quillworms, that sounds way better. They’re like our children.

READER: www

IKE: www

Never fucking mind about acting so dorky all the time. You kick yourself for bringing up Pen and Paper, and your giggly laugh. You hate it. A neon sign above your head that says “SIMP” would be less obvious than that stupid schoolkid laugh.

But Ike’s laughter is music, back in the moment and now as you revisit it, and his model’s eyes squint with a wide smile.

He really is an amazing man. If you didn’t know him as well as you do, you’d think he’s perfect. But you’ve seen him in moments of vulnerability, the parts of himself that never shows through on stream and even rarer among his friends. Through it all he manages to keep going, and you admire him so much for sticking to his guns even when he’s expressed all his doubts about himself. The fact that he trusts you enough to let his guard down only adds to how honored you are to know him, and at the same time, the fact that there’s so much trust between you two just makes you feel worse for having a crush on him. You hate keeping secrets like this when you let Ike read you like an open book for everything else, and even just wishing you were something more to him feels like a betrayal of all that trust. You wish you could just be satisfied to know him.

The compilation continues. The next clip is a totsu Fall Guys collab hosted by Fulgur Ovid that you and Ike joined in on. Fuuchan got eliminated early in the match, and spectated on you while the other livers ran around Roll On with players tugging them this way and that. 

You moved around the rotating levels at the perfect sweet spot between two rings, and balanced at the top of the roll as the slime level slowly rose.

A longer wall approached, so you shuffled from one level to another, but another player grabbed your bean avatar and dragged you along to the wall even as you yelled out in panic on Discord. You smashed your keys to struggle, but they had an advantage, and it was clear the wall would push you down to the slime for an impending elimination.

That is, until a familiar Miku bean grabbed the other side of your avatar, and pulled the other way towards the ring that would save your life. Resigned, your attacker backed off and barely dodged out of the way while Ike’s Miku bean brought you back to safety.

The other two livers in the game were too noisy to notice you. Fuuchan was commentating every move you made, and when Ike saved you, he said, “Ike coming in clutch, let’s fucking go.”

Your recorded self didn’t hear him at all, though. You swooned, “Ike, my hero!”

Meanwhile in the present, you wanted to puke. You meant for that to sound like an over-the-top joke, but you crush is getting so serious that it sounds less like a bit and more like how you gush about him in private. 

At least Fuuchan’s audio was louder than everyone else, since he was the host, and the other two livers were preoccupied with their own game to notice your lovey-dovey tone and how Ike laughed music at you. It was bad enough clippers transcribed your words in captions, but you weren’t sure how you would handle it if those three picked up on you and your dumb crush. The less that know about your workplace romance, the better.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“Reader,” Aia coos. Even with audio only, you could tell her eyes were sparkling. “You didn’t tell me you had a workplace romance!”

Well, so much for that plan. You froze over. “Who told you that?”

Mika answers way too quickly. “It’s Alban’s fault.”

“Fuck off, Mika, you brought it up first!”

“You said it though!”

Man, you were already starting to regret joining VC today. You finished your offline work a lot faster than expected, so when you realized that three of your close friends in the company were all online in VC together while Alban privately streamed a rhythm game, you figured you would join the call while you prepared dinner. 

But if that was your greeting, you needed to mentally prepare for the wild interrogation you were about to experience. At least Aia, despite her love for drama, knew how to navigate these sorts of things delicately. And you don’t mean to call Mika and Alban bad friends—they were the exact opposite, in fact—but they were much nosier than Aia ever came across.

“Okay, but Reader just asked who leaked it, and didn’t deny it,” Aia says. “So that means it must be true!”

Scratch that. Aia is the worst out of all of them.

“I hate you guys. No hello or anything, just gossip about my love life,” you lament.

She gasps, and if her eyes were sparkling before, then roses bloomed around her as she spoke. “It’s love?”

Mika shrieks like a banshee. “Oh hell no, you’re in love and you didn’t tell us?!”

“It’s not love. It’s nothing!”

“Nah-uh, Reader, no running away from it, we know,” Alban says. “Better to just get it all out in the open than pretend like nothing’s up.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to snoop.”

“I’m being serious. Keeping stuff bottled up deteriorates you, especially when love’s involved.” He missed a note. “Shit. And yeah, okay, I want some gossip, but I have a point and you know it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, I blew a full combo just to say that!”

“Can I add? In case you forgot, Reader, we’re all in the same company,” Mika says. “Sure, I might be in a different branch, but who knows? Maybe we can help.”

“And fuck you too.” You sigh in defeat. As vitriolic as your shared humor was, these three were still some of your best friends, and you know they don’t mean any harm. “Ugh, I hate this. This is confidential information. Like, CIA levels of confidential. If I tell you guys, you can’t tell a single soul about it. Understand?”

The three all chime in agreement. And unfortunately, you trust them. You take advantage of your coworkers swearing themselves to secrecy to hype yourself up and just rip off the band-aid. “It’s Ike.”

“We know.”

“What the hell do you mean, you know?!”

“It’s obvious,” Aia says. Your heart hammers in your chest. Then she sputters for a moment, like she realized she might’ve hit a soft spot. “Well, you have to focus on it to see it, but once you see it, it’s hard to ignore. You two go well together.”

Alban pitches in. “Agreed. I’m not even gonna be subtle about it, you and Ike have great chemistry. I’m happy for you two.”

“Okay, I guess.” Your eyes drift away from your prepared ingredients to the corner of your kitchen. ��But I don’t know. Are you sure? Because I feel like I always act like an idiot whenever I’m around him. And I doubt he’d ever feel the same way.”

“Wait.” Aia pauses. “You’re… not dating?”

“No. Just a crush. Not love, not dating, nothing. And it’s never going to be anything more than that because it’s just a big stupid crush on my coworker, who doesn’t even live close enough to visit, and this is all a recipe for disaster.”

She doesn’t say anything about that. Actually, none of them do. Even Alban pressed pause on his game, and the Discord stream went motionless as your words sunk in. 

Mika is the one to break the silence. “You’re shitting me.”

“That’s the truth. Happy?”

“No, like, you’re shitting me, there’s no way.”

“Mikaaa.” Alban drags out her name as he scolds her. 

“Hey, I’m just saying, that’s crazy, especially since—“

“Don’t tell Reader that!”

“Tell me what?” 

“We thought you were already a thing. You know, dating, in a relationship, whatever,” Mika clarifies. It hits you like a punch to the gut. “Or at least that you had something going on, and kept it secret so it wouldn’t be awkward for everyone else to work with you two. Which, by the way, we’re all chill with, so if, hypothetically, you decided to hypothetically go for it, we would hypothetically cheer you on and set off hypothetical fireworks. I’d rent a food truck.”

Alban resumes his game. “Yeah, what she said. Go get that hypothetical novelist bussy.”

“Don’t hypothetically talk about my brother like that.”

“You’re sure this is okay?” You ask. “Mika, I know you and Ike are close. This isn’t going to make anything weird, is it?”

“You’re fine, Reader. If I had problems, I would’ve cornered you and threatened you over text ages ago when I figured it out.”

“That’s another thing. How did you guys know?”

Aia pipes up first. “I know I said it was obvious, but I think that’s just because we know each other since we’re good friends. You two just go together, you know? It’s hard to explain, but whenever Reader and Ike-senpai are in the same room you think, ‘those two would be cute,’ and then you realize they are cute, right there in the moment. And you talk a lot faster on stream whenever you’re both on the same page. Almost as fast as me.”

 “Plus, it’s really common to see both of you on VC at the same time, and you’re always happy whenever he shows up,” Mika affirms. “Alban says whenever one of you enters the call the other is soon to follow.” 

“It’s true. You talk fast whenever you talk to him on VC too, not just stream. And your laugh kind of changes?”

“Dammit, I knew my laugh was my tell. This sucks. This seriously sucks.”

“It might not be all that bad,” Mika says. “Who knows, maybe things might end up better than you expect. You should tell him.”

“No way,” you fire back. “There no way he’d actually reciprocate. And I know you guys are fine with me asking, but Ike himself is just going to reject me, and it’s going to be awkward, and literally everyone in the company who has ever talked to us will be able to tell something’s up.”

“They won’t be weird,” Aia insists. “We won’t, either, and Ike-senpai is a good guy. Even if it doesn’t work out, he wouldn’t leave you out to dry like that.”

“You don’t know. None of you have ever been in this situation.”

“That’s true, but there’s always a chance.”

“If you ask me, it sounds more like you’re afraid of what you think would happen instead of what rationally would,” Alban says. He’s still laser-focused on his game. “I dunno. If you’re really set on getting over it, then go ahead and ignore it, but that’s just going to eat at you for who knows how long before your crush starts to fade.”

“Well, I didn’t ask.”

“Fine. Forget I said anything.”

You regret the acidic tone in your voice the second you said it, but Alban was off in his own world of music. He’d tell you if he had a problem with how you spoke to him, but you still feel gross about your knee-jerk reaction. 

You’re just… defensive. Yep, that’s the word. Whenever you’re this interested in someone, you put your walls up and protect yourself from letting anyone worm through and hit a weak point. 

Aia hums like an analyst. “Just keep it in mind, Reader. Not everything is out to get you.”

You know your friends just wanted the best for you, but things just aren’t as simple as they’d like to imagine it. It’s none of their business, anyways. It was pure coincidence that they figured out your thoughts on Ike, and that means none of them have any real authority to advise you on your love life.

“I think we’re done talking about this,” you assert.

“Well, you heard ‘em. Pack it up, show’s over.” Mika changed the subject. “Hey, did you guys know if you try to break open a freshly boiled egg, it explodes?”

Alban slams his hands on his keyboard so loudly that you hear the switches over his noise suppression. The stream goes from a string of Awesome! notes to nothing but misses as he abandons the game. “YES. Yes, actually, I DO know.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“MEAT! WANTS MEAT! WANTS MEAT! MEAT!”

“AAAAAAAAHHHH!”

The stream is to the birds. Fuck that noise. Godspeed to the Bookworms, they’ll need it, but not nearly as much as you. 

When you were settling on a schedule, the last undecided spot for the week was Friday’s stream. That simply wouldn’t do. Friday nights kick off the weekend, and the break from school and work is prime time for a wide audience, so pretty much everyone in Nijisanji reserves their juiciest streams for the weekend. You’re no exception.

…Except for the fact that you didn’t have a clue about what to do for Friday’s stream. One Twitter poll and conveniently timed Steam sale later, you published your schedule with a game your fans voted on: Outlast.

You walked in knowing it would be a horror game, and you figured it would be fine. After all, you’ve played games from Chilla’s Art before, and a few quirky indie psychological releases here and there. You wouldn’t call yourself a stone-faced horror lover that can keep a straight face at anything, but aside from a few creepy moments in those game, you’ve kept your cool relatively well. 

Outlast threw all that out the window. You realized almost immediately that you had no idea how to handle the primal fear of the chase. 

Footsteps pound against a metal floor. You plead for help in the emptiness of your home as you smash the controls, as if that would make your character move the cabinet over the door any faster. Screams resonate in tune between you and the chained man in the room with you, and all the while, the howling of your pursuer grows louder and louder as he gets closer.

You finally uncover the door and dash through. Tremors run though all your thoughts while your heart beats overtime. 

You still haven’t gotten used to all the jumpscares, even though you’re at the edge of your seat and ready to start running yourself. A fork in the road approaches, and when you start off one direction, you’re greeted by a bloodied man in the distance. “AAAHH!”

Faster than light, you slam the key to the other hall and book it. You spot a new storage container to shove in front of the door just in time for text to appear on the screen: Look for pushable objects to block doors.

“No shit, why wouldn’t you tell me that before, oh my God, aaaaah!” The screams—from both the voice actors and your own cries—grate against your eardrums while chase music thunders in-between the gasps for air. 

As you grab the container and start to push, you mash the pause button. When the menu appears, you lean back in your chair and run your hands over your face. Your model pouts cutely while the real you whimpers. The mic barely picks it up.

You take a breath before groaning in fear and pain. “Guys. I don’t think I can do this…” Another groan as you trail off. “This game is so much. Give me a second.”

As you raise yourself back from your chair, it’s with a slump forward. Your chat is full of headpat emotes and hearts in your color, along with some quick words of courage. A few are recommending you take a break. “Thanks, Bookworms. I’m so afraid, but I’m committed and I don’t want to just leave it here.”

Your eyes flutter closed as you take a sip of water to clear your head. The cold drink startles you out of the dingy asylum atmosphere, but the screaming still lingers between your ears. “You know what? Who else is online right now? Maybe I need someone in VC to hold me to this.”

The emojis in chat slowly patter out as your viewers go back to text. Looks like most of your Bookworms like the idea of calling someone else while you stream the game. Some of their messages catch your eye. 

gatamiizuus: you can call ike :ReaderHeadpat: 

messXed-up!: ike!!

lunasmortas: what about ike?

A few more chats mention Ike, and while usually you’d be irritated they mentioned another liver out of the blue, your shoulders still relax at the sight of his name. “Wait, Ike? Is Ike here?”

You scroll back in the chat history, and search for any mod messages. Sure enough, barely a minute ago while you were still being chased:

Ike Eveland 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : GANBARE!

You cling onto that message like a lifeline. Ike is familiar. Ike is comforting. And most importantly, Ike would never call you a pussy.

Chat floods over with his name while you check the official Nijisanji Discord server. Almost everyone in Nijisanji sets their status to offline by default, and Ike is one of them, but you still scan through the member list anyways, praying a little green indicator will light up by his icon.

His status doesn’t change, but before you can even click on his profile, your Direct Messages tab gains a notification. He just messaged you.

Ike Eveland: Watching your stream right now

Ike Eveland: Are you okay?

You exhale. Ike is the most dependable guy you know, even when it’s pure coincidence he was watching your stream while you freaked out. 

With your heart still in your throat, you respond.

Me: uuuuuuugh i guess

Me: the game is really scary

Me: i don’t want to cancel the stream but i don’t think i can play it by myself 😭

Ike Eveland: 🫂    | 🫂 1 |

Ike Eveland: Would you feel better if I called you?

Me: i was just about to ask    | 👌 1 |

Me: you don’t have to if you don’t want to tho!! i don’t want to be a nuisance lol

Ike Eveland: Don’t worry I offered to!

Ike Eveland started a voice call.

“Ikeee!” The second the call starts, all your restraint goes forgotten. “Ike, I was so scared!”

You babble on about everything you’ve endured up to this point: the gore, the grime, and the patients in the asylum that hunt you like animals. 

 “I’m here, it’s alright now,” he assures you. “I’m here, okay? Take your time, you’re safe.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m relieved. But it was so scary.” You sink and bury yourself in the collar of your shirt. “You’ve streamed this before, and kept a cool head the entire time, right? How do you do it?”

“Well, it wasn’t my first time playing, for starters. Everyone gets freaked out at first. It’s a horror game, Reader, it’s okay to react to it. I remember the first time I played it, it scared me so bad I had to quit after half an hour.” He giggles a bit at himself. The sound is comforting. “That was a few years ago. I think I had nightmares about it, until I realized I needed to know the rest of the story. ”

Your voice is small. “That was really brave of you.”

“I avoided it for days. I doubt that’s brave.”

“It’s braver than calling someone just to get the guts to play the game.”

“Hey, don’t put my friend Reader down just to bring me up.” He keeps his tone light to let you know you’re allowed to smile. “Being able to face your fears is plenty on its own, and you shouldn’t be devaluing that. How long have you been at it?”

“A little over two hours?” You glance at the stream monitor, and ignore the chat as much as you can. You still register the hearts in your color and his signature blue. “I don’t know. I did a lot of pausing, too, so it’s probably less than that…”

“But you were still able to stream for that long. Remember, I could only play for thirty minutes during my first time! You’re stronger than you think you are.”

You avert your eyes from your stream setup. You feel painfully seen, but the chat is nothing to you. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Then I’ll be here to remind you. Is that okay?”

“I’d like that.” You return to the screen, and in the darkness of the blurred labyrinth, you see your reflection stare back. Your hair is disheveled from how you kept thrashing around in reaction to the game and your shoulders are high with tension, but only now did you realize how the corners of your lips rose after the call started. Ike really got to you. “Thank you, Ike, you’re so considerate. I appreciate you a lot. You’re a really good guy.”

He chuckles slowly, soft like a blanket. Your shoulders ease. Ike’s words are just as soft, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s nervous too. “Haha, um. Yeah. Thank you?” He doesn’t take compliments well, but they’re true, and you hope he knows it as well as you do. He clears his throat. “Ahem. Um, how are you feeling?”

“Not great, but better. I want to try again.”

“You’ve got this, Reader, you can do it.” Ike is still quiet, but enthusiastic. “You can do it!”

You go shaky. “Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.”

But you still press Return To Game.

And when you scream barely five seconds later, Ike is still calm, and you hone in on his voice as you persevere.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Just as you go to bed, you realize that you basically just made a fool of yourself in front of your crush by getting scared at a game he’s already conquered. 

You slam a pillow over your face and groan.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Ike lands an all-out attack just in time to check the chat and the swarm of viewers that just joined. “Oh, Reader! Thank you for the raid, it’s good to see you! Welcome, everybody.”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : take care of my bookworms for me? i’m getting milk

“Of course. They’re our Quillworms, after all.” You go fuzzy. He remembered the fan name! “Have a good break, Reader! Rest well.”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 👍

It was the end of the week, and the stream you just finished was the last on your schedule. You announced a few days ago that you would take a break for a little more than two weeks so you could catch up on offline work as well as rest, and the Bookworms sent you off with a lot of love. It’ll be hard for some of your diehard fans, but you’re sure they’ll manage. You have a feeling it’ll be easier than they expect. 

“Speaking of breaks, I haven’t finished my schedule yet. I think I’ll wait a day or two to post it.” The stream cracks in red and black as Ike’s party in Persona 5 Royal clobbers the enemy Shadows. Monsters bleed out behind the protagonist’s cocky smirk. “I’ll be offline for the next two days, so I’ll have some time to think about it.”

Ike mashes through the battle results, and sets back off into exploring the palace. His stream fades into background noise as you get back to the task at hand. 

You sent a few messages to some of your other coworkers regarding your break. Next was finishing some paperwork for management, and reaching out to others that needed access to the files. Sure, your time off was for offline work, but the work you had to get done would only take an afternoon at most. You wanted to meet even the far-off deadlines as soon as possible so you could be properly free for the rest of your vacation.

By the time you finished your paperwork, your coworkers were able to respond to you. A group chat full of other livers had a new response every minute about the next two weeks, and Aia sent you a QR code that would let you save some time and money on your flight. 

Ike ended yet another super-long P5R stream just a few minutes after you grabbed all your luggage, got to the airport, and made it to your terminal. You had some time to kill, but you were sick of the headphones over your ears.

Not to mention, you were waiting for the fans to catch up on the real reason why you were on break.

Curiously, you log into your private Twitter—you don’t plan to interact with anything but you’re always paranoid about your online presence—and start searching for the code words fans think Vtubers have no idea about. Symbols replace letters and names morph into sounds while emojis speak volumes.  

The Stargazers don’t mention it at all. That’s to be expected, after all. Their oshi goes on break often, so nothing seems too out of the ordinary. Besides, you wouldn’t put it past them to have even more intricate subtweets than what you’re looking for.

Only a few of Nina’s Honeybunnies put the pieces together at first, but then you check Quilldren subtweets. As it turns out, when Ike mentioned he’d be taking a few days off, a few of his fans noticed how Nina was going to be offline at the same time, and a smaller fraction of those compared how Mika had yet to release a schedule. 

Underneath your face mask, you smile. With the career being dependent on both anonymity and your voice, you wore a nondescript black mask through the entire airport in case someone recognized you, just as well as to hide the tiny giggle that always bubbles up whenever you watch your fans scramble around theorizing. They don’t have all the pieces, after all. None of the Aiadmirers nor the Renvaders even considered it.

They’ll figure it out in time nonetheless. Uki and Nina are close to landing, and Aia was the first to disembark her plane. The rest of your friends are set to arrive after you, and besides, Vox should be ending his last stream of the week right now. You’re sure the Kindred will start plotting in the next hour, provided their oshi didn’t give them too big of a hint about his plans for the next week as he’s known to do.

You board your plane and settle into your seat, ready to nap the flight away. You’ll need the rest, after all. It’s about time you join an off-collab.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Nina doesn’t even get the chance to look away from her phone before she gets a rush of replies on her first voice tweet.

She doesn’t bother to read them anyways. She’s too busy howling out the lyrics to “Wannabe.”

It’ll be hard to discern all the voices. Ike’s high range is always easy to pick out, but Vox blends in as a bass, and you can always hear Mika’s grin through her singing. Ren and Aia are the furthest from the phone, and as loud as they sing, they’re still drowned out along with you, Uki, and Nina herself.

Mika chooses the wrong time to look around the karaoke booth. While Aia sings passionately about what she wants (what she really, really wants), her body language crumples and rises like an electrocuted high school theater kid. The ghost has a hiccuping, sweeping laugh that overpowers half of the singers, and then Aia snorts at herself when Mika covers her mouth, which gets Vox to snort even louder, and before you know it, it’s just Uki and Nina doing their damndest not to break. Even then, Nina’s voice wavers along to the Spice Girls as she resists a laugh, and Uki’s eyes are squeezed shut smiling.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The bar stool slides out from the counter so quietly that you wonder if the Airbnb owner knew just how handy it would be for a house full of streamers on vacation. You lean forward while Mika tells a story about how she, Aia, Ren and you went out for a coffee run, and crossed paths with some teenagers with matching Iluna keychains on their backpacks. 

Speaking of Iluna, their represents sat together on the couch. Aia set her plate and fork on the coffee table, not a single pool of sauce left over from the pasta dinner Vox and Uki prepared together. Somehow Ren made enough room in his luggage to bring along a teal ukulele, and idly strums along. Uki sits between Ren and the armrest, swirling the last of his pasta between his fork.

Across from them, Vox and Nina took ownership of two plush chairs that could only fit one person each. Each chair was next to a corner table, and they stacked their plates on top of one another to make room for a jug of orange juice and two cocktail glasses. Ike took a bottle of rum and poured it into his soda, then slid it back to the corner table before pulling up the bar stool next to you. 

“It was like, one of them had a clear phone case and held it out to show the others a video,” Mika says. She perched on top of the counter itself, next to her travel microphone and the second-nastiest kitchen stream setup you’ve ever seen. She was no Scarle, but so many wires stretched across the island and along the way that it was just easier for her to climb onto the polished granite to keep an eye on the chat. “Smack-dab in the center was a PNG of Vox. And then a bunch of tinier Voxes around it. And here’s how you know it’s bad, you could see the color of the phone itself through the case because it’s clear, right? It was red. Red! That’s commitment!”

“I’m telling you, Mika, there’s no way they got a red phone just because of Vox,” Aia says. “That’s got to be a coincidence.”

Vox hums into his glass. “No, they absolutely did. You mean to tell me your fans don’t spoil you rotten and buy new phones just because they’re your color?”

“My color is white, Vox, like every phone ever is my color!”

“Still, I’ve never seen Aia go so quiet so fast.” Ren’s ukulele twangs as he grins. His fangs were just as prominent in real life. “It was awesome.”

“It was scary, but funny,” you say. “We saw the Vox case and the Iluna keychains, and all of us just went silent. And we all had masks, too, so it was like, one moment you could hear Ren’s fuckboy laugh, and the second we saw the case, we all put up our masks and went quieter than the grave.”

Ren palms the neck of the ukulele and mutes the chord in mock offense. “Hey! I’m not a fuckboy!”

“Didn’t say you were, but if you want to out yourself like that, be my guest. They’d chop off your horns and sell them like Kyo.”

“One of them had an Aster keychain.” Ren bitterly resumes playing. Uki sets his plate on the table and drapes himself over the alien’s shoulder as he opened up his phone to check the off-collab’s live tag. The stream was supposed to be a live Q&A, but was so easy to talk to everyone that the questions often turned into conversation before someone remembered the stream. “If Aia or I said anything, we’d be fucked.”

“Imagine how fucked we would’ve been if Vox woke up in time to go with us,” you say.

Ike snickers. “Is it bad that I would’ve paid money to see that?”

The two Luxiem members get into a playful argument over who would win in a fight: all the effort Nijisanji and its employees put into protecting their privacy, or one silly phone case. Ren’s riffing turns into a simple rendition of “Iris” and Nina hums along from across the living room. The ukulele is slow and unique enough to not be mistaken for the original, but you wonder if those two would be able to avoid copyright entirely.

Nonetheless, the vibe is comfortable. You’re miles away from home, but in a room with some of your closest friends in the world, it’s like you never left. Truthfully, it’s more like you’ve finally found your place. The music just feels right, like it was written for this moment, and Aia leans back into the couch while Nina sways in her seat to the jaunty little ukulele. Ren looks as cheery as his instrument sounds, especially with a peaceful Uki nuzzled up to him. 

While Ike and Vox go at it, Mika props her chin up with both hands and watches them like a reality TV show. There’s a glint in Vox’s eyes as Ike drums up a snide response, the only sane man to the demon’s goofiness. He brings his rum and coke to his lips like punctuation, a silent so, what? hidden in the boozy soda. 

Vox knows how to run his mouth, and he launches into one of his patented anecdotes. While all eyes are on the demon and the chat hones in on his voice, you focus on how Ike tilts his head up to drink. His neck stretches out from the collar of his black band tee, and with each sip, his Adam’s apple bobs. 

You’ve always thought he was good-looking on stream, but he’s gorgeous in person, all long lines and graceful features, and cameras can’t capture the tiny little freckles drizzled down the back of his neck. You didn’t even know he had freckles. It was only after you saw him for the first time that you noticed pale, reddish dots all over his nose and cheeks, fading out by his temples and the arch of his lips. Spending the day walking around in the sun from place to place revealed more whenever the wind flicked his jacket collar out right. They scatter at his nape, right below the blue tips of his hair, and meet one another further down his back, or so you’d presume. Without the jacket, you can catch marks spread out along his arms with distance between one another, and his shirt sleeve starts right where the freckles cluster together. You can only imagine how far down they go.

You avert your eyes. You can’t think about what’s under the shirt when you’re sitting right next to him, and certainly not while on stream, even if chat can’t see you check him out!

Unfortunately, the side opposite of Ike is the one with Ren and Uki. Those two are idyllic. Without a care in the world, it seems. You envy how easily Uki can act on what he wants, even if you know he doesn’t see Ren like how you see Ike. Ren doesn’t mind it at all, either. He literally lives by the rhythm of his own ukulele. 

Ike lowers his drink with his eyes closed, as if it would make the refreshing feeling last longer. His eyelashes are the same ashen color as his hair. Gold gleams between his ears and on the chain of his glasses.

Possessed by the music, and distracted by the rambling, you become one with the background and lean along Ike’s arm.

It’s an indulgent dip into the waters, but shallow compared to all you feel for him. Ever since you met Ike in person it’s been easier to control yourself around him, and if anything, you’re reminded that this is the man you’ve gotten the closest to in both career and friendship. The only barrier between your cheek and his body is his shirt sleeve, but your arm rests against his forearm, right where the freckles taper off. There’s no resistance at all as you make yourself comfortable in the crook of his arm. 

But you hold yourself back. Even though the off-collab made you feel gutsier than before, you think that you’d pass out if you tried anything else. Besides, you feel so at peace against his arm, but too afraid to look up and see his reaction. 

The blend of peace and fear churns in your heart as it dawns on you: you were wrong to call this a crush. It runs far deeper than you could’ve imagined.

Vox says something with finality. His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, but the words go unregistered. As he spoke, his eyes drifted around with his body language, but he snaps to look at Ike expectantly. You swear his smirk gets a little more mischievous as he does. 

The air stills, even though you know eyes aren’t on you, just the man you lean on. It stays frozen as Ike waits to respond. You still don’t have the heart to look up at him and break your selfish, unrequited fantasy.

You just want to stay here, unresisted.

Ike deadpans. “Anyways.”

Just like that, the moment is over, and Mika laughing at Vox striking out clears the air around you. But Vox’s eyes fall to you for just a split second as he moves in his seat. Frost settles down your back at the thought that he knows, but there’s a solid chance he hasn’t connected the dots. You pray he hasn’t.

Then you see Fox Mom herself right behind him, and she shoots you a shit-eating grin with a hand over her heart and a glass in the other. 

No doubt about it. You’re screwed. 

The frost turns to glaciers and burns into hot shame all at once. You love Nina, you really do, and you’d always consider her a good friend before coworker. However, she’s known for fishing around for any crumb of fanservice, and she gets straight to the point whenever she eggs it on, not to mention how she loves to tease her kids on just about anything. You are never going to hear the end of this if she can help it.

You really don’t know what you expected. It feels like everyone’s staring at you, even the chat. You can’t help but feel bitter. How come Uki can flirt with as many guys as he wants, you wonder, but I can’t even touch Ike without getting eyed up? 

You know the answer, but it doesn’t do anything to help the bitterness and the embarrassment, and how much you want to hide. On instinct, you take advantage of the warmth and nestle yourself deeper into Ike to hide your face, just in time as he curls his head above yours.

Nina makes a sound kind of like a fork stuck in the garbage disposal for the briefest of moments before smashing her lips together and bringing her glass to her mouth like a mute button. As if you didn’t feel seen enough. 

“Find any other questions, Uki-senpai?” Aia’s nose is buried in her phone, and God, you could kiss her for changing the subject. As much as she poked fun about you about Ike, she was still a total angel and a ride-or-die all at once. 

“Oh, I have questions,” Uki says. Luckily, he’s graceful enough to leave it at that. “Twitter wants to know first impressions for everyone that hasn’t off-collabed before.”

Ren speaks. “I think the only person I’ve done an off-collab with before is Nina, so is it cool if I go first?”

Aia gestures for him to go on. She’s still stuck on her phone as he continues.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, but you ignore it. Then again and again and again, and when you finally check it, you understand why. When Aia, Mika and Alban first heard you spill your feelings for Ike, they made a group chat dedicated to wingmanning—or at least, that’s what they pitched it as. They tease you more than anything else, and as irritating as it gets… you have to admit, it’s nice to confide in them, and nice to know they wouldn’t hold it against you.

Anyways, Alban’s going apeshit. 

Group Chat: 💙 PENANDPAPER REAL 2K4EVER 💕 (4 Members)

Aia Amare: image.png    | 📌 2 |

Alban Knox: AKDHSLSJDKSHSA

Alban Knox: AASDFSDF

Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: HAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAA AAAAAAA KYAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: 💕💕💕💙💕💙💕💙💙💙💕💙💕💕💙

Alban Knox: 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

Alban Knox: HOW ARE YOU GUYSS NOT LOSING YUOR MINDSA BOUT THIS

Aia Amare: I AM

Me: omfg did you seriously get a picture of us 

Alban Knox: WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGGGG DONT CHDCK THIS GC    | 👆 1 |

Me: wtf did you expect you’re spamming 

Alban Knox: YOU AR ELITERALLY CUDDLNG GO FOCUS ON THAY JOT US

Me: we are not cuddling

Alban Knox: YOU ARE

Aia Amare: YOU ARE

Mika Melatika pinned a message.     | 🖕 1 |

Me: mika wth you too? 😭 

Mika Melatika: image.png

Me: did you srsly take a selfie with us in the background

Mika Melatika: YES this needs to be immortalized

Me: you people suck    | 🥰 3 |

Alban Knox: GET THAT NOVELIST BUSSY!!!!

Aia Amare: As if you aren’t about to save that picture yourself~

Alban Knox: NOVELUSSY!!!!!!!!!

Fuck, she got you there. You cast a pointed look at the angelic maiden herself, or at least as pointed as you can be with a man you’re scared to love wrapped around you. She looks as satisfied as a cat pushing a glass off a counter. 

You set your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and placed it behind you on the counter with a huff.

“Reader, honey, how about you?” Nina leans forward, half-lidded and as sultry as ever. She swirled her drink around in its glass. “It’s your first off-collab ever, right? I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

“Oh, well, um.” Your brain struggles to catch up. “First impressions, right…”

Aia slips you a thumbs up. You’re going to rip her a new one after this. Her, and Mika, and definitely Nina; this is the most subtle Nina’s ever been but you can tell she’s fishing for an answer here. You can take your friends figuring it out, embarrassing as it is, but you are not about to expose yourself to thousands of live viewers. 

“It’s kind of crazy actually meeting up with everyone,” you start. “I’ve known them for so long, but all online, and being able to match the voice to the face in real life, I don’t think I can actually describe it. It’s kind of surreal, but it feels so nice to just talk to them in person. Aia, Nina and Uki were the first people I met up with, and man, those three are a sight. I know everyone says it, but Uki is absolutely the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Nina and Aia are really pretty, too. Hey, Aiadmirers, did you know when your oshi laughs, she looks just as cute as she sounds?”

Aia yells. “Reader, shut up!”

“Then stop being so cute all the time, you dork!” 

“I’m not a dork! I’m cool!”

You resume, satisfied with your revenge. “Mika and Vox are both really chill. They’re kind of quiet, so if you’re just walking by, you’d think they’re two normal people just going about their days. But whenever we talk it’s always something insane. Vox sounds like a dignified gentleman and Mika is kind of like that cool girl that you want to be friends with, but if you actually pay attention, Mika’s showing Vox a picture of her insides during surgery while he’s reciting something about the Bite of ‘87. And Ren is probably one of the most straightforward people you’ll ever see. He’s so optimistic, and really expressive, too, even though most of the expressions are all different types of smiles.”

“What’s your impression of Ike?” Nina asks.

What does she expect you to say to that one, that screens can’t capture how the sun glitters through his glassy green eyes? Hearing him say your name in-person sends shockwaves through your body? How you want to kiss every little freckle he’s never mentioned before and keeps hidden under long sleeves, even though it’s the beautiful skin he lives in daily?

“Same old Ike. He’s exactly like how I expected,” you say. A total fib. 

She cocks her head. “Really? Even after all the time you’ve spent together?”

“I’m trying to hang out with everyone.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

Cornered. Nina takes a long, slow drink from her glass as you scramble for a quick answer that won’t immediately out you. “Whenever I talk to Ike, he’s really emotive. You can tell what he’s thinking before he says anything. He also has a good sense of style, so he’s fun to go shopping with, and honestly, fun to do anything with. He’s someone you can always have a good time with, and always makes you feel so comfortable around him. Ike’s magnetic.”

Mika muffles a coo behind you. You’re going to kill her if you survive this stream.

“That’s very sweet, Reader,” Nina replies. “Hear that, Ike?”

“Yes, I did.” He sounds strained.

“Got any feelings about it?”

“Yes? I mean—er, thanks?” You feel Ike’s head rustle. “I, umm. What am I supposed to say about that?”

“I don’t know. I just think that about you, that’s all…”

“Aww, cute. I love that you love each other,” Nina muses. 

Ike spits out, “It’s not like that!” Just as you admit, “Yeah, I guess so.”

You process his words too late, though, and even as you sputter the ukulele music cuts out just in time with Nina and Mika’s unfiltered fangirl squeals. Ren’s palms mute the chord as his eyes go wide. Aia is already on her phone with her jaw to the floor and Uki throws a look at Nina while he mouths, did that just happen? 

“I-I mean!” Your throat goes dry and Ike lurches away from you when Vox gleefully shakes Nina like a rag doll. “I—wh—Ike, I mean, of course I love you—“ Mika screams again— “As a friend!”

When you turn to face Ike, he’s curled up into a ball on the barstool with his shirt collar over his face. Even as you feel the blood rush to your face, you keep shouting. That’s all you have left. You’re live. “Like, we’re best friends on and off stream and I love you!”

He mutters something, but you can’t tell what. Only his neck and the tips of his ears poke out from his shirt. Were they always that red?

You repeat yourself. “I said, we’re best friends and I love you, so much!”

“And I said, I know, thank you, I love you too, Reader!” Ike jerks out to face you as he cries. He looks like a tomato. 

Then he buries his face into his hands and squeaks like how he always does when something’s too cute to handle, or he’s got too many emotions he needs to let out. “You can’t see me, I’m too embarrassed. I’m hiding forever and I’m never coming out.”

You hope the ground swallows you up and you never have to confront this moment again. 

Uki hisses under his breath and muffles Ren's ukulele. You don't know what he said, but you realize all too late that the alien prince himself was laying down the first few notes of “Fly Me To The Moon.”

While you slump and fold your arms over your face on the counter in pure embarrassment, Aia stands up and commandeers the mic. She slaps a hand over Mika’s mouth to muffle the scream. “Man, bummer that Ike-senpai is gone from us forever, but you know what else might be gone forever if you don’t get it now? The sponsor for this stream, our current limited-edition Nijisanji voice packs!”

And as much as you could kiss her yet again for changing the subject, you can’t get over how everything blew up in the last five minutes, and groan into your arms instead. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The stream passed, luckily, without a hitch after that. No one asked any questions, but it was pretty damn clear everyone in the room had an idea of what just happened, and the impending shitstorm. In fact, it was so clear that when you stalked off to your room to sulk, no one made a fuss, and when you realized ten minutes into your sulking session that you left your phone on the counter, you figured it wasn’t worth it to show your face again until after you finished your pity party. 

The entire time, you laid in your bed with a pillow over your face so you could pretend like you were being absorbed into the sweet embrace of death. Overdramatic, sure, but you figured you were justified. 

Without your phone, you had no way to check exactly how bad the fallout was on Twitter. The poor Pen and Paper tags were sure to be flooded with fans imagining a happy ending to that stint you’d never be able to experience yourself, like salt in the wound. Not to mention, it was a huge seven-person off-collab! It didn’t just end with the Pen and Paper fans. No, it would extend past the Bookworms and the Quilldren, and certainly to the rest of the fandoms with an oshi in this Airbnb. Maybe even the offshoot viewers who don’t regularly watch your content, but made an exception for the off-collab, or, you know, the ones who have no idea who you or Ike are but can’t get enough of the whole accidental-confession-live-on-stream thing. Forget Nina; the entire Vtuber community is never, ever, ever going to live this down. 

Ike sounded so distraught, too. You wanted to kick yourself for it. Not only did you make a fool of yourself, but he got caught in the crossfire just because you didn’t catch yourself slipping. Not like he’d reciprocate anyways. He’s always been bad at taking compliments, but you keep thinking about how embarrassed he was about you loving him. 

All your frustration and humiliation coursed through the darkness under your pillow, and you stew so bitterly that you don’t even dream when you fall asleep. 

You just wake up groggy and exhausted, but too restless to go back to sleep. You look out the window, and the stars have barely come out to play in the early night sky. 

As much as you’d hate to admit it, that impromptu nap made you tired of brooding. Besides, you can’t hide from your friends forever. Hopelessly in love or not, they’re still your friends, and even if you decided to stream during the trip, this off-collab was always about spending time with them instead of worrying over your online presence. 

It takes you half an hour to hype yourself up, but eventually, you open your door and step out into the hall. 

You can already hear voices further away in the Airbnb. You place one of them as Nina, and after her, a baritone that could only belong to Vox. 

“…Fuck Twitter, they’re going to forget about it in two weeks or less anyways.” You overhear as you walk down the hall of rooms and closer to the living room. You’ve heard Vox passionate before, but never this serious as well. “Besides, what exactly did they say?”

A mumble. You can’t place the words, but you bristle when you recognize the voice. That’s unmistakably Ike. 

“See? Again, I’m so sorry. I was out of line, and I forgot my place. I shouldn’t have interrogated them like that,” Nina says. “But you’re overthinking what they said.”

Another mumble. By now, you’re in the kitchen. You lift your phone from where you left it, and hold your fingers over the half of the screen where your notifications appear as you check the time. It’s barely 11 PM. 

The kitchen and living room are connected, with plenty of seating space all around. That was why Mika’s travel laptop was still on the counter and plugged into the wall from the stream earlier, but on the other side of the wall from the kitchen, you noticed an open window and silhouettes from it. Four people sat on the shallow roof overlooking the uneven ground plenty of feet under the building. A pair of fox ears twitch at the night wind as they watched the stars grow brighter in the sky. 

You look through the fridge. You’re peckish, but if you were to be honest with yourself, you’re trying to stay quiet for a reason. 

There’s a huff. “Oh my god, dude. Just tell Reader already.”

You stand up a little straighter. Mika was with them? Were they talking about you?

“There’s nothing to be said, Mika!” Ike huffs back. “I’m screwed anyways. Just drop it, okay? I don’t need this getting in the way of what was supposed to be just a normal trip.”

“You can’t keep running away forever. Just act like an adult and tell them. It’s going to be fine, I swear.”

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“Well…” Mika trails off. “I can’t say. I just know, okay?”

“Uh-huh. And I know I’m screwed.” The wind rustles outside. You stay motionless. “Just two weeks. Can I please just have two weeks where I don’t have to worry about this until the trip is over.”

It’s a question, but he says it with such exasperation that no one can consider any other answers. 

“Fine.” Nina relinquishes. “Have it your way. I’m just worried for you two.”

“It’s going to work out, Ike. But I’m tired.” Vox stifles a yawn. “Tomorrow is going to be better. Let it go for the night and come back to it once you’re in better shape, and just remember. It’s going to work out.”

“Thanks, Vox.”

“Now get in here.”

You hear shuffling fabric before the two men start yelling. Vox cackles while Ike cries through gritted teeth. “Dang it, Vox, I’m going to shove you off this roof!”

“Get ruffled, idiot! That’s your fault for trusting me!”

“I just wanted a hug!”

You snicker under your breath. Vox loves to ruffle Ike’s hair despite the latter’s protests, though he tends to accept it instead of shove him off like anyone else that would dare. Besides, as dreary as Ike sounded during that conversation, he nearly sounded like his old self as Vox and the others laughed.

“I think I’ll go too. Mommy needs her beauty sleep.”

“Mm, I’m still pretty awake. Wanna keep looking at the sky with me, Ike?”

“Sure. Here, Nina, let me move out of the way…”

Shuffling turns to footsteps, and brings you back to reality. You busy yourself looking through the paltry groceries.

The sound of footsteps gets louder and louder, until they become a hollow click on the hardwood floor. Nina crawls through the window, but stops in her tracks with a startled noise.

You turn around and nod as casually as possible. “Oh, hey, Nina.”

Vox is also halfway through the window, and his eyes go comically wide as he forgets how to move. “Oh. Hey. Reader. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Yeah! Um!” Nina coughs long enough to make you uncomfortable. “What are you doing here?”

“Took a nap. Got hungry.” It’s not a lie. You grope around in the fridge and breathe a sigh of relief when you see a stick of string cheese in your hands. “You guys just hanging out?”

Nina nods. “Yeah, we were on the roof. It’s getting late, though. You should get some rest for tomorrow—“

Vox elbows her. “But not after looking at the sky for a little bit. It’s beautiful. Very clear. Romantic, even. The architects did a wonderful job placing this house right at the perfect angle to watch the stars rise. Did I mention it was romantic?”

You act natural and take a big bite out of the string cheese. “Once or twice. Is it the seniors’ bedtime?”

“You got me,” Vox says. 

“I love going to sleep early and giving my kids private time before bed to reflect and hold deep conversations with one another about their feelings,” Nina says. “And also nighttime face masks.”

“Woo, skincare, what she said.” 

“Hey, by the way, Reader, honey, did you hear anything we talked about?”

“No,” you lie.

“Cool,” Vox says. You eat the rest of the string cheese in one bite. “Good for you. And goodnight, Reader.” He dusts himself off before casting his golden gaze down at you. “Be nice, will you?”

Shivers go down your back. You have a feeling he’s referring to something unspoken. “I will.”

“That’s my sweet thing,” he purrs. “Anyways, I’m going the fuck to beddy bye. Honk shoo, Reader, don’t stay up too late.”

Vox struts off with dark hair flowing behind him and the scent of his aftershave in the air. He leaves you to stand awkwardly next to Nina. 

Suddenly, she takes you by your shoulders and forces you in front of her. You blurt out an unflattering startled noise before she gets right up in your face and stares dead into your eyes.  

“Please be good,” she says darkly. Was that a threat? “Please be so, so good to my baby.”

“I will,” you say, more out of fear than anything else.

She blinks once, then she’s back to the doting mother you know and love. She squeezes your shoulders. “Thank you, honey! Sweet dreams!”

And just like the Voice Demon before her, Nina bounds off to her room. 

Huh. That was weird. Nonetheless, you’re alone in the living room, and you can see the outline of Ike and Mika sitting on the roof in silence. 

You lightly knock on the side of the window. They both perk up at the sound. “Cool if I join you?”

Mika responds quickly. “Sure! Watch your step, Reader. The roof isn’t that steep but it would be awkward if you ate shit.”

“Agreed.” You step onto the tiling, and shift your body to match the angle. You feel like a newborn deer learning to walk. Luckily, Nina and Vox leaving meant that there was more than enough space for you right next to the window. 

Ike sits between you and Mika. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah…” 

‘Pretty’ is putting it mildly. The stars are so clear tonight, and scatter across the sky like sequins. The Airbnb was located further away from the heart of the city, so the darkness only amplified how bright the stars shone against the stark night. A breeze drags through the air and fallen leaves rustle between the grass. 

“This is so nice.” Comfort settles into you like the breeze in your hair. “I love it.”

Ike sighs. “Right? It’s so peaceful.”

“And there’s so many more stars out here than there are in the city.”

“It makes you want to just zone out and cool down.”

“Yeah, totally.” Mika coughs. “Huh! Cool! Well, I’m tired now. Just keep staying out here and enjoy the sky, I’m going to bed. Enjoy yourselves.”

Mika inelegantly shuffles around your bodies and slips back inside before either of you can properly tell her goodnight. 

Ike cocks his head as he watches her stumble through the window. “She just said she would stay out…”

“Hm?”

“Ah, nothing. Just thinking to myself.”

With the extra space, Ike leans back and lays along the roof. The stars cast a dreamy glow over his soft smile as he continues. “It really is something that just makes you want to have a deep conversation, or just think, you know?”

You hum in agreement. You get what he means, but there’s only one topic you can imagine having a deep conversation about right now, and it’s the very one you brooded over earlier that day. 

But Ike is Ike. He’s rational and calm and kind, and laughs at your stupid jokes, and texts you first before any of your other mutual friends. The night turns the tips of his hair bluer than usual, and the stars remind you of the freckles hidden along his creamy skin. His glasses reflect the galaxy above.

Even though today’s stream was embarrassing, you know Ike trusts you enough to tell you if you’ve ever crossed a boundary. After all, it’s commonplace to discuss limits on and off stream as soon as possible, and your friendship was so strong that you’ve both opened up to one another. He’d let you know if the whole cuddling thing was too much. Besides, he didn’t resist. He even rested his head on yours. That has to account for something, right?

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel a gentle tug on the sleeve of your hoodie. It’s Ike. He asks, “Lay down with me?”

A wave of fondness washes over you like the tide. He’s cute when he’s earnest like this. You get as comfortable as you can on the tiling, and when you still, you hear something shift before your hand grows warm. Ike scooted closer to you, and placed his pinky finger over yours. 

This is bliss. A beautiful sight with a beautiful boy next to you. Your best friend. 

“I do love you,” you say. 

It just feels right to say. 

Ike is silent. He doesn’t make a single sound as you stare up at the stars and the blackened sky. The breeze rocks a tree, and as the leaves part, you see the moon for the first time: one thin, waning crescent that blends into the darkness. 

Ike’s head is turned away from you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking at all. 

“…I don’t know what you mean,” he admits. “You do? As a friend?”

“We’ve always been friends.”

“Just that?”

“I don’t know what you’re asking me, Ike.”

“N-never mind. I’m sorry, am I making it weird?”

“No, you could never make it weird.” The colors of the view gloss together. You feel like a balloon slowly deflating. “Feels like that’s all I’m doing lately, though.”

Neither of you say anything. 

This was a bad idea. 

You swear the rustling leaves mock you. 

“Wait.” Ike practically snatches your hand up. “Wait, Reader, are you saying you like me?”

“Yeah. I’m saying that I love you.”

Ike stares at you, and if you had to choose just one word to describe his expression, it’s stricken. His mouth is slightly parted, and his shocked eyes drive holes through your skin, leaving you exposed. The brief stutter that escapes him sounds like it was dredged out from frozen, murky waters. “I—”

He drops your hand and turns away. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, barely audible. “This is… this is a lot.”

“I’m sorry too, this was a stupid idea. What was I thinking?” You get on your feet, but the slope makes what could’ve been a fluid motion into a stumbling, slow rise, as if your legs weren’t jelly enough already. You inch to the window mortified. “I think I should go. Sorry to bother you.”

You don’t dare to glance at him before you step back inside, not even when he calls your name halfway through the window.

Once you’re back in the living room, you cover your face, then drag your hands through your hair. You can’t even begin to describe how exhausted you feel. This is heartbreak, isn’t it?

You blink furiously, and the outline of a figure by the fridge comes into view. 

“Reader?” Mika asks. She has a stick of string cheese in her hand, but walks to you. “Reader, what happened—”

You take her empty hand and pace to your room. You open the door. “Are you okay?”

The second it shuts, your breath hitches. Mika doesn’t hesitate to take you in her arms. She holds you as the first tear falls, and you begin to cry.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You wake up the next day sprawled in your bed, even though the blankets are tucked comfortably around you. On the floor is a pillow and another pile of blankets, and when you recognize the dark hair tied into a loose ponytail, the memories of last night come rushing back.

What an awful night. Awful decisions all day, really, and all of them ones you made. You really don’t know what you were thinking. You groan at the memory.

“Reader?” Mika perks up. Her phone is in her hands, but she sits up level to your face on the floor. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

Another groan.

“Yeah, I figured,” she says. “Nina, Vox and Ike went out to do their own thing, and I think Ren and Uki are cafe-hopping. It’s just you, me and Aia in the house right now.”

You rub the sleepy out of your eyes. “That’s cool, I guess.” You cast a downward glance to Mika’s makeshift bed on the floor. “Sorry for being a nuisance.”

“You’re not a nuisance, Reader, don’t say that.” She nudges you. “We’re friends. It’s what friends do. Speaking of, do you want Aia to come by? And Alban’s online, so I can call him, too. If you want.”

“It’d be nice…”

Less than ten minutes pass before Aia shows up at your door with breakfast sandwiches and orange juice. All three of you sit on the blanketed floor while Mika voice calls Alban on her phone. A pot of coffee brews over speakerphone as you recount last night. 

“...And to make things worse, we just streamed yesterday,” you explain. “God, I should check Twitter. There’s got to be a million people with eyes on our ship tag, and ugh, I hate thinking about how many weirdos are going to push a ship that can’t work out IRL.”

“I can check it for you,” Aia offers. You hand her your phone. “You remember your Twitter password?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Sorry in advance.” She deletes the app off your home screen.

You begin to protest, but she turns off the phone and sets it aside, out of your reach. “You’re off the clock, Reader! Work troubles can wait until you’re back online, and that includes doomscrolling. You can redownload it when you’re in a better headspace.”

“I really hate admitting you’re right.”

“Shit, Reader,” Alban finally says. “He seriously dropped the ball. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I really thought he would get it, but it took him so long to piece it together, like he never thought about us like that before. I should’ve known it was just me. I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, you’re hurt,” Mika says. “It’s understandable, but that still doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“Is it wrong that I feel like I deserve it? I mean, I knew day one that this wouldn’t work out. We work together online, and we have fans that ship us with each other and the rest of this company, for fuck’s sake. Getting heartbroken was inevitable and I still went for it. Either I’m a glutton for pain or I’m just plain clueless.”

Alban’s voice is distant from the phone as he messes with his coffee maker. You can’t properly hear him under his breath and over the pot, but if you could, you could’ve heard him mumble, Trust me, you’re not the only clueless one here.

But he returns back at the phone, and you’re totally oblivious. “You can’t choose who you fall for,” he says. “It was really that bad?”

“It took him like a minute to realize I was confessing. And then when he realized it, he apologized to me.”

Aia straightens. “Did he say no?”

“Not really, but why would he apologize if he reciprocated?”

Aia exchanges a look with Mika. Alban grumbles. “No fucking way.”

“Tell me exactly how he reacted,” Aia instructs. She plowed through her sandwich during the conversation, but she left the remaining half on her plate forgotten as she laced her fingers together and leaned forward like a calculated boss. 

“It was like he couldn’t comprehend what I was saying at first. He asked if I meant it as friends, until he asked me if I liked him. And when I told him I loved him in response, he was so shocked that he let go of my hand, so I left.”

“No fucking way,” Alban repeats, and groans as he drawls out his words. You can practically hear him drag his hands over his face. “No fucking way. Ikeeeee. He seriously dropped the ball.”

“I know. I can’t believe it.”

Aia takes both of your hands in her own. “Reader, I’m not even saying this to hurt you, but this is the clumsiest confession I’ve ever heard of.”

You squint. “Right, that makes me feel so much better.”

“I’m really not! You know what this sounds like? Miscommunication,” she declares. “You didn’t get a solid yes or no. So now it’s going to be awkward between you two until you get an actual answer to the confession, or at least some kind of resolution. You wanna know what I think? It sounds like he didn’t even believe what he was hearing before you left. Which, by the way, is a common response to not just confessions but other major news, so chances are you didn’t blow up your friendship as hard as you thought.”

“She has a point,” Alban says. “I believe you, Reader, but Ike isn’t the type of person to just crush other people’s feelings like that. You just woke up, right?”

“I haven’t even left my room yet. Mika says everyone else is out of the house. He’s with Vox and Nina, I think.”

“So then he hasn’t had a chance to talk to you since the confession,” he continues. “And those three are really close. I’m willing to bet they’re helping him manage it, ‘cause it sounds like he’s going through it just as confused as you are.”

You stare at the floor. Hope feels foreign, yet you can’t help but wonder. You struggle to remember the exact way Ike reacted last night, but you really can’t tell what facts were clouded over by the rejection. A rejection that possibly didn’t even happen, mind you. The confusion and regret blurs over everything like water on wet ink.

“You really think so?” You quietly ask.

Aia nods, and Alban agrees over the phone.

Mika pipes up, a glass of juice in her hands. “Here’s my take. We can theorize as much as we want, but none of us really know what Ike’s thinking about, least of all you. Especially since you didn’t actually resolve anything, and that tension is going to eat at you until you get an answer or it actually damages your friendship. You ask me, the next best thing you can do is bring it up.”

She takes a sip of her juice and leaves you to absorb her advice. 

You mull it over along with the memory of last night. “He called my name as I left.”

Alban chokes on his coffee. “He called your name?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t respond.”

“Oh my God. READER!” He shouts so loud that Mika turns the volume down. “I’m going to lose it. I’m actually freaking it right now. Reader!”

“What?”

“Fuck what Mika said earlier, you are stupid!”

“Hey!”

“I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, you are so stupid. He was trying to talk to you!”

Your face goes through a handful of emotions as you sputter. “Are you serious, Alban?”

“Yes! Mika, Aia, back me up.”

Aia crinkles her nose. “I did just say it sounded like a total miscommunication.”

Meanwhile, Mika twirls a lock of red-and-black hair between her finger, distracting herself. She hesitates, trying to figure out exactly how she wants to say her piece, before she simply shakes her head and stills. “Just talk to him.”

“Which is easier said than done.” Your shoulders roll back as you stare up at the ceiling, your hands supporting you as you lean. Even with your friends’ encouragement, the memory of how hard you blew it last night still haunts you. It’s even worse than starting at ground zero; you’ve already tasted failure once, and you’re hesitant to embarrass yourself again. 

That stricken look Ike gave you flashes across your sight every time you blink. What was he thinking when he stared at you like that? You can’t tell if the disgust is true or if your anxieties are getting the best of you.

The best solution to anxieties, however, is looking at the facts—or at least, what isn’t tainted by your bias. Your friends mentioned there was nothing wrong with a workplace romance, and as much as the stream made you want to cringe, no one seemed put off by it. Alban and Aia are set on getting you and Ike to talk, and so is Mika. In fact, Mika spoke with Ike as well as Vox and Nina last night before you entered, and even if you had no idea what those four were talking about, you still picked up your name and that apparently Ike had something to tell you.

Pieces start to fall into place when you consider the three around you, staging an intervention over a late breakfast. Aia always gets you in situations where you can be close to Ike and bails you out when it gets awkward, and as much as he won’t get off your back about it, Alban gave you great advice between all his teasing. Mika was nosy at first when she learned about your feelings, but now that you think about it, she’s been incredibly tactful ever since the off-collab began. 

You can’t help but snicker as you connect the dots. “Is this the first time you guys actually started wingmanning for me?”

Aia purses her lips. “Hey, not the first. Remember when we made that group chat? We’ve always been your wingmen.”

“I know. But you guys are seriously helping,” you say. “Thanks. Though I do wonder, Mika…”

She perks up as you say her name. “Be real with me. Do you know more than you’re letting on?”

She flinches. Alban’s fingers snap over the phone. “Busted.”

Mika holds her hands up like a criminal caught in the act, but there’s a loose, sly smile hanging on her face. “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”

“What do you mean, it’s not your place to say?”

“I’m sorry, Reader, but I made a promise not to spill, and I’ve been doing way too much behind the scenes to break the promise like that. Just do me a favor and talk to the guy, will you? That’s the best I can tell you.” Mika rests her head in a hand, and the smirk looks even more knowing. “And if you can’t figure it out after that, then you’re definitely stupid.”

You bluster. “I’m not stupid!” 

“Still remains to be seen.” Aia gently flicks your forehead. “But you do look a lot better. How are you feeling now?”

Aside from the fading pain on your forehead? You’re surprised at how much lighter you feel now that you unloaded all your worries with your friends. The rejection still stings, and you’re not exactly confident, but, well, you’re smiling. The clean, tangy taste of orange juice lingers between your tongue. Aia and Mika sitting on the pile of blankets reminds you that regardless of your love life, they’d stay by your side until the bitter end, and Alban’s voice keeps you connected with your friends no matter where in the world you are.

You snatch Aia’s half-eaten sandwich off her plate and sink your teeth into the bread. She cries out in protest. “Hey!”

“Better now.” You set the sandwich back where you found it. Even though your future with Ike looks cloudy, the smile doesn’t leave. “Don’t flick me.”

“Speaking of.” Mika picks up the phone and scrolls through her messages. “Nina just texted that she, Vox and Ike will come back in an hour or less. Reader, are you up for this?”

“What do you mean, ‘up for this?’”

“Just seeing Ike again. It was a weird night,” she says. “I stand by what I said, but if it’s going to be too much too soon, then Aia and I can cover for you until you feel better.”

“I don’t know.” That’s what gets your expression to sink from light to thoughtful. “I think I want to take your advice. I just don’t know if I’m ready to talk it out yet.”

“Still wanna hang out with us or take a moment to yourself?”

“I think I’d just go back to moping if I was alone,” you joke.

“Cool. Let me go grab some nail polish Nina gave me yesterday.” Mika rises and strides to the door. “You have a steadier hand than me. And Nina said the color suits me more than her.”

Aia’s face lights up. She happily cries ”Girls’ night!” even though it’s barely noon and Alban is decidedly not a girl, but then he croons something in a valley girl accent so strong you can’t even tell what he’s saying. Scratch that; he’s a girl by association.

When he drawls out one long “Yaaaaaas, bestie!” you can’t help but laugh. Your love life is in shambles, but at least your friendships are solid as hell. You’d give the world for these three.

Mika returns a moment later, travel-sized nail supplies in her arms and a totally unrelated topic on the mind. The sharp scent of the lacquer startles you out of your thoughts as you uncap the bottle and Mika splays her hands out, and Alban and Aia air their opinions on something entertainingly dumb. 

Nina was right: this color is stunning on Mika. You paint Aia’s nails too, and halfway through her second hand, you hear the front door open, the end of an intelligible conversation, and telltale footsteps, each diverting across the house. The girls’ eyes flicker to you. You know they’re trying to read your expression, but you concentrate on how the brushstrokes pool together into one smooth coat. Your thoughts are a storm and you can’t even pick out the emotion commanding it. 

So you keep joking along instead and focus on the nail polish, refusing to give the storm an opportunity to strike. Alban quips off of you, and the moment passes as Mika and Aia return to the conversation. 

That is, until half an hour later when you hear a knock on the door. Mika cocks her head, a silent question, and when you nod she stands. Her nails dried when you finished Aia’s, and dot the doorknob as she cracks it open. A tiny margin of light from the hallway shines into your room, and you realize she positioned herself square in front of the threshold, shielding you from the person on the other side. 

She talks evenly. “Hey, welcome back.”

“Thanks. Is Reader here?”

Your mind thunders as you register the voice. You can only see the leg of his jeans behind Mika, but you recognize Ike’s voice on the other side. 

Aia shuffles by as a second shield. “Need them for something?”

“Kind of,” Ike says. “Do you mind if I talk to them?”

“I don’t know, what’s it about—“

“Aia, you can lay off him.” You call from your corner of the room. “You too, Mika.”

“Whatever you say. Just let me just grab my stuff…”

Mika grabs the nail supplies and deafens on Discord, but doesn’t even think to pick up the blankets along the ground. Instead, she glides to you and whispers under her breath. “We’re rooting for you. Send us a text if you need anything, okay?”

You nod. Aia slips past the threshold, but not without shooting you a thumbs up and mouthing ‘good luck.’ Not even a second later, your phone buzzes, and you catch Alban’s contact sending you an encouraging message in all-caps. 

“See you later!” Aia chirps. “Play nice, you two.”

The scent of the lacquer follows them as they leave, and the sound of their footsteps fade in time. 

Still in the doorway, Ike raises a hand to fidget with the chain along his glasses. “Do you mind if I…?”

“Oh! Come in. Sit anywhere, I don’t mind.”

You stay planted on the floor like how you were with your friends, and Ike sits next to you. You face the wall in front while he gets comfortable.

No words are exchanged as Ike maneuvers around the blankets, and eventually settles down with his back on the floor and head resting on a pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The light is off, but the blinds filter in thin beams of sunlight that cross over the room and the edge of his collar like a grid. 

“Lay with me?” He asks. Then it strikes you like ringing metal; you sit next to each other in the same positions as that night on the roof. 

Suddenly Ike raises his hands like static. “Not that you have to! I just figured it would be good to get comfortable and all, you know?” Ike hastily explains, then clears his throat. “I wanted to talk. About last night, I mean.”

Your chest flutters at the mention of it, but you remember all your friends’ encouragement. Here he is, the novelist of your (heartbroken) dreams, already bringing up the topic you dread to mention. You need to take this chance to face it head-on, now or never. 

You glide down like the ceiling is full of stars. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“A lot, honestly. I don’t know how to go about it, but first of all, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms. “You said that enough last night.”

“Not like that! I mean I’m sorry I acted the way I did. I think I made every wrong choice once you said that you… that.” He shovels a hand through his hair. “I’m making it weird again. I should apologize for that, too, it’s just kind of embarrassing saying out loud that you, um, you loved me. Not that you should be embarrassed. I mean, I get it if you are, but that took a lot of guts. You should be proud of that. I admire you for that.”

“Slow down. What are you even saying?”

“What I wish I said last night. More than anything else, I’m sorry I got caught off-guard. I must’ve been so standoffish, because my idiot brain just didn’t believe what I was hearing until it was too late and the damage was already done.” Hair the color of ash and ocean falls over his face. “Honestly, I can’t believe it now.”

“I get it. Bad idea from me. Can we move on from that yet?”

“I don’t think it was a bad idea at all. I just had no idea that you liked me.”

“Give me some time and I’ll get over it, eventually. I’m not going to let it get in the way of working with you, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”

“No, that’s not it either! I—“

Ike’s eyes squeeze shut. His voice is so quiet, you can’t discern what he’s saying. “…Actually, I’m…”

“Repeat that?”

“I’m happy. Really happy,” Ike says. His pitch rises like a balloon floating up into space, struggling to stay composed. “I’m not good at saying it, but I meant it when I said… when I said it during the stream.”

You wave a hand in the air. “It was weird timing, and I know you mean it like a friend,” you reply. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into saying it, and just being friends is fine. Even though I’m a loser that messed up just about everything.”

The hand catches in midair. Doll-like fingers weave through your grasp, and turn your touch warm as Ike turns to look at you. “Not with me. Don’t say that about yourself, okay?” 

You stare at how easily he held your hand, and how his fingers cradle your heart between the palms. The corners of Ike’s eyes are narrowed, two beads of peridot stone that can see through every little line of text between your pages, but there’s gentleness under his glasses. Something uncertain and fluffy. Softened like a lamb even though he leaves you defenseless. 

You don’t know what to say. Ike is beautiful and kind and handsome and thoughtful when he’s earnest like this. He’s got you stupid in the head and wrapped around his pinky finger, and doesn’t have a single clue.

Peridot sparkles. “You’re so much more than that. You don’t mess things up, Reader. I’m in love with you.”

Your mouth goes dry and your tongue is still tied. Forget speechlessness; the man took your own damn thoughts away. Your hand remains frozen in air with Ike’s. If it weren’t for the light drag of one of his fingernails along your skin, then you would have figured he took your senses as well.

But the drag ends, and the fingers unlace themselves, and chilled air fills in the gaps Ike once held close. The tips of his fingers rest at the curve of your palm for just one second more before they drift away.

The glint in his eyes dulls. His hand falls to his chest, over his heart, just as slow as he parted. The uncertainty took over, and now it’s like staring at a cloud that doesn’t know if it should rain. Ike’s gaze lowers to his heart. There’s a stretch of silence and motionlessness as he stares at where your touch once was, and you’re paralyzed where you lay.

Ike's hand curls in on itself, too loose to make a fist, and his lashes sink over his eyes. His mouth is set into a flat line, but the cheeks are dusted in pinks and reds and peppered freckles in-between, demure and shy all the while.

He turns his face away soon after that. Another break of silence, and he shuffles again, with your vision on his back as if it were a hiding place.

It startles you out of your stupor. The gridded sunlight lets you analyze what you missed. After months of thinking your feelings would never be reciprocated, Ike thought of you just the same. He’s always been in your corner, and you would go to the ends of the earth for him, and everything is in its perfect position. But his back is still turned, and the memory of last night—your confession, and his inaction—it rushes to your head.

So you reach out instead.

Maybe it’s a little selfish. You’re tired of bumbling around and concealing your true feelings, and now that everything's out in the open, you aren’t about to let go without resolution.

But Ike is your best friend, and the man you fell in love with. There was no way you’d ever let go in the first place.

You wrap your arms around his back and hug Ike.

“I think I get why you were so taken aback last night,” you whisper. Even though you’re alone with Ike, you still say it like a secret. “I can barely believe it myself.”

Your warmth is inviting, and every second that passes is another defense downed. Your head perches right above his neck and along his shoulder. It’s not your first hug with Ike at all, but there’s only been so many since you first met him in person that it still feels special, and with your bodies flush to the floor, it’s intimate. His eyes are averted and one cheek lays down on the blankets, but the tips of his ears glow scarlet under his jewelry. 

“I’m glad you were patient with me. I really didn’t think I had a chance with you. You know, the long distance and the company, and you know, the standard pining fare. I’m really lucky.” A smile slips through your words. “I’ll stay with you, okay? So take all the time you need.”

Ike chuckles. Even his laughter is blushy-bashful. “I’m just so happy you feel the same, too. I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

His body curls as he lays, and your legs brush along his as you cuddle. Holding him makes it feel like he was made to fit in your arms. You sigh. “I love when you can’t contain it. It’s so cute.” 

Ike squeaks at that, and unwittingly proves your point. “It feels so good to say that out loud. I mean, you’re okay with it, right?” A nod. “And you’re okay with… I don’t know. Are we still friends?”

“Of course we are, no matter what. You said you loved me first, so let me say this one?” 

You have a feeling you know what’s coming next. You hug him even tighter.

“Reader, let’s go out. I don’t want this feeling to end,” he confesses, and your world turns into rose and blush. “Can we?”

Though you expected it, he still takes your breath away—until he taps you on the hand. “Come on, say something before my heart explodes!”

“Mine already did! I can’t even think straight, and—I’d love that. I really want this.”

Another squeal breaks out as Ike buries his head into a blanket, and your heart soars as he melts. He resembles a swaddled-up kitten, and the rays of sunlight line his silhouette. The fluffy blanket reminds you of an angel’s downy wings along his kitten features. You can’t even see his face between the blanket and his hair, but his squeal continues, muted through the blanket as he swoons. 

Somehow that only makes you feel even more flustered. “No, don’t hide! I want to see you!”

Maybe it would’ve been better for your heart if he stayed put, because when Ike rises—with disheveled hair and glitter in his eyes the color of seaglass, and jewelry that frames his red face, and that galaxy of freckles you hold so dear and shine like stars between his blush—you feel your heart stop. Again.

“When did you start having this effect on me?” You ask, mesmerized, and before you know it you thumb over one of his rosy cheeks. “Your freckles are so beautiful.”

He sheepishly grins. “They don’t really show up online. They’re pale.”

“Never noticed them until I met you in person. I love them. I love you.”

The grin gets a little wider. One of his fingers grazes along the corner of your ear. Has his hand always been along your jawline?

Ike’s eyes are shining under the grid of sunlight. The lashes flit just a bit lower from your gaze. “Reader, can we…?”

You close your eyes.

And when Ike’s lips graze your own, you smile on instinct before you remember to kiss back. 

Ike brings you near, searching for the taste of you as he continues. His touch lodges past your jawline and into your hair, and when one of the fingers grazes along your ear you’re reminded just how much you love Ike. All the yearning you hid for so long bleeds through as you sink down to his level with his head in your hand, gentle yet impassioned.

Then your face bumps against Ike’s glasses. The kiss breaks as you back away.

There’s a brief pause in the aftermath. Ike wordlessly adjusts his glasses, now knocked off-center. Despite finally getting on the same page on your relationship with Ike, you’re still as clumsy about your feelings as ever.

But the corners of your lips curve up as he inspects the lens you squished, then a barely-stifled giggle, and next thing you know, Ike’s laughing along with you, still underneath your body and with one hand in your hair while the other holds his glasses in place. He sounds as charming as he looks, and the fact that he joined you even when you chuckled out of the blue means that his mind is just as charming as well.

Not that it was breaking news. You know your best friend well, and now that you don’t need to deny your feelings any longer, you know you’ve got good taste if Ike’s under you with crinkled eyes and hearty laughter.

When you speak next, the giggles patter out between your words but the quiet delight hangs in your teeth. “Can we try that again?”

Then his lips are on yours again, and the laughter twists between the second kiss, and the third, and the fourth, all the way until you collapse on the blankets with arms around each other, staring up at the stars on the bland popcorn ceiling as adoration fills the space between you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

bonus.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Starting soon…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The chat flickers alive as a four-pointed flower, a diamond, and a thorned heart give way to the stream and the novelist behind the stinger. 

Kaidororero: welcome back ike!

Min (Ikey’s Book): 💙 IKEY IS BACK 💙

A normal broom: HI IKE

lunasmortas: 💙💙💙

viperip: ike! :_heart: :_heart: :_heart:

Sun shines through a clear day in Ike’s room onscreen, but in reality, blackout curtains block out the day outside. A sweet smile graces both Ike’s face and his model as the Quilldren welcome him home. 

He greets them, and cracks open a can of soda as he quickly scans through the chat. Obviously, the off-collab is on everyone’s minds. 

juuuuuuuuuus: did you have fun?

Kaidororero: offcollab POOOG

lunasmortas: SO CUTE :_heart: :heart:

Johnclone: Hope you had a good time!

zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER REAL

Hm. A mod will eventually bonk that message. But then again, it’s inevitable that the ship would come up in chat. 

Ike takes it in stride and ignores it like any other shipper, but his heart still skips a beat. Nonetheless, he doesn’t call any attention to it. “How about that off-collab, right? I met up with my friends! Where do I even begin?”

Ike recounts his trip from the beginning, and the Quilldren react to his stories with interest. He was one of the last to arrive, so Nina, Uki and Reader picked him up from the airport, and met up with Aia, Ren, and Mika at the Airbnb. Vox was the only one to arrive after him, hot off the heels of a flight delay, but the demon was a welcome party all his own despite his exhaustion. 

“We went to karaoke once Vox got situated,” Ike explains. “Nina put that song in first so we could all let loose, and so she would have a fun voice tweet for everyone. Might as well confirm everyone that showed up, right?

“But after that, we didn’t want to stress ourselves out to perform for voice tweets instead of just having fun, so that was the only song we recorded. I wish you could’ve heard Uki and Vox’s duet, though. And while we were singing, turns out Ren packed a ukulele with him! Sometimes he would learn how to play along by ear, like a jam session. Mika knows how to play ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ too, so everyone joined in singing that while she played it. It was so much fun.”

Johnclone: Everyone sounded great!

sunblast99: uki’s voice >>>>>> everything else 💜💙

haabinae: :_tskr:

Festersk: WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT 🗣🗣

A normal broom: what did you sing?

Ike leans back in his chair. He blows a lock of hair out of his sight as he tries to think. “I remember Vox sang something by George Strait, so then we all egged him on to sing ‘Country Roads.’ He only did it once I promised to queue up ‘Toxicity’ by System of a Down afterwards.”

lunasmortas: OMG 💙💙💙

gatamiizuus: ayo?

Y A M: YESSSSSSS :_tskr: :_tskr:

haabinae: I LOVE SOAD :_fanboy:

Thornmy: SO COOL 💙

“Thank you.” He says it out of obligation. If he thinks too hard about the compliments, he’ll get embarrassed. “What else was there? I think there was some Motionless in White, and Spiritbox. Oh, and My First Story. Can’t forget My First Story.”

K. K. Soda: ooooo

Alban Knox 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : what about mcr

asper ch.: METAL SCREAM?

deeboorgur: HI ALBAN

Y A M: MCR YEAAAAA  :_glowstick_1: :_glowstick_2:

“I’m getting there, Alban!” 

Ike takes a sip while the Quilldren greet Alban. He’s not too surprised Alban seems to know more than the other viewers. He’s close with almost everyone that went on the trip, and was super active on Discord during the off-collab. The novelist lowers his soda as the chat floods in orange hearts. He wonders how Alban learned so much as an observer. He should ask. 

But that’s a question for after stream. Ike continues. “Thank Nina for that. She queued up ‘I’m Not Okay’ by My Chemical Romance, and then shoved two mics in my hands and Reader’s.”

And the chat explodes. 

Kaidororero: OMGGGGGG 💙💕

Y A M: PEN AND PAPER SO CUTE :_tskr:

zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER DUET

asper ch.: AYOOOO MCR

gatamiizuus: I LOVE READER

ystariya: PEN AND PAPER MY BELOVED

“It’s a really fun song! It’s almost all clean vocals, but there’s this scream in the middle. Up until then, we sang together, but then I screamed, and Reader picked up the slack and sang the parts of the verse I couldn’t. They’re amazing.”

gatamiizuus: READER SIMPS COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE

Thornmy: THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD

lunasmortas: 💙💕💙💕

ystariya: READER KARAOKE STREAM WHEN

Kaidororero: AWWWWWWW

The model on the screen doesn’t have the same glint in Ike’s eye when he talks about you. That first day of the trip was all about getting comfortable after long travel hours, and the stories went on as the days went by. Sightseeing with Aia and shopping with Uki by day, and spending the night shooting the shit with Ren until it turns into the littlest hours of the morning.

“Vox wanted to try a bunch of different restaurants with me, but you know me, ya boi is not good with most foods. So Nina usually came along in case I couldn’t finish something. She and Vox would share my leftovers.”

Something fond crosses over Ike’s face. His eyes cloud over in fog descending over a clear-sky day. “We would always talk over food about anything. I appreciate it a lot. They really get me.” The fog stills. “And over breakfast one morning, they gave me some excellent advice over something I’ve been meaning to do.”

ver*batim: ❤️💙❤️

K. K. Soda: MILORDDDDD

nroneo: :_heart:

A normal broom: upcoming project? 👀 

Johnclone: I love Nina Kosaka!

“Not a project, no. It was something I was really worried about, even when I was supposed to be taking a break with my friends,” he says. “But those two seriously helped me clear my head about it. Mika, too. Vox and Nina had a lot of nuanced advice, but Mika told it to me straight, and helped handle what I couldn’t. I’m really thankful to have them.”

His set jaw loosens. “Maybe I’ll talk about it one day.”

The model cocks to the side. Motion blurs the foggy sobriety away. With a lightness to his voice and a knowing gaze, Ike looks straight into the camera and smiles, sentimentality forgotten. The air clears. “But for now, it’s a secret~!

“Ah, now where was I? Spending time with my friends, right? Reader and I hung out often. Sometimes with others, but it ended up being the two of us more than not.”

Birds chirp outside Ike’s window in time with the hum of his PC. The backlit keyboard in front of the monitors glows the same color as the computer, a healthy blue light that tints the tips of his fingers. He usually sets it to a rainbow spectrum in his own time, but static blue is reserved for going live. It gets him in the right mindset for streaming, and makes his little apartment feel fantastical like the noble background that accompanies his model, even if it only reaches his fingertips. 

He’s sure the Ike on the screen has fingertips tinged with blue just like him, an extension of the man outside the screen but without the grittier details. Smooth, pristine hands under gloves where his are callused from guitar playing. Nothing under the model’s eyes but lashes and a line of red that brings out the pink in his eyes, very much unlike the heavy bags and sunken face from an awful delay on his flight back home. No freckles, either, but even cameras rarely pick them up on video call. Nina cooed over them the first time they met, as motherly as ever, but behind closed doors Reader was utterly fascinated with them. They mentioned something about watching blush travel around his face with the smattering of freckles in-between once or twice… maybe more? Doesn’t matter when he’s never heard that before and it repeats in his head when he catches himself daydreaming. It’s one of the best things he’s ever heard.

Vtuber Model Ike’s face doesn’t heat up like how Real Ike’s certainly is now. He clears his throat. “The weather was really nice during the entire trip, so we would always get into good conversations while walking back to where we were staying. And sometimes we didn’t want to end the conversation, so we’d just keep walking past our Airbnb until our feet hurt or it got dark, whichever came first. 

“Oh, here’s something funny. Uki really loves cafes, right? Usually he woke up early with Ren to go check out some cafes in the morning, way before the rest of us would even think of waking up. By the time everyone else woke up, they already finished their breakfast, and Uki would tell Reader about the ones to visit or skip. Whenever Uki recommended one, Reader always wanted to go themselves, so I went along to keep them company.” 

Even as his skin returns to its original shade, the sweetness sticks to his throat like the soda he’s barely touched at all. He’s wistful. He didn’t expect to miss Reader this much; after all, his relationship with them has bloomed so much ever since you first started working together, but two weeks together (including mutual close friends) changes things. It’s only been two days since he returned home, but he feels out of rhythm with them. 

He’s gotten too accustomed to them. Over the last few months, he thought he did a good job putting aside his feelings for Reader, even when Nina would tease him after every Pen and Paper collab and Vox and Mika would be right behind her, hyping him up to make a move. The fear of rejection was what motivated him to keep his close friendship with Reader without ever confessing to them.

“Reader…”

The world around him is nothing. Paused to buffer as he thinks. He can’t remember the last time he felt so happy. Just being in the same room as them makes him feel stupid, and surely he’s been acting like it. Everything he says sounds clumsy when he’s with them. After all, on that day when he owned up to the feelings he repressed for so long that he couldn’t properly react to Reader’s confession, he couldn’t say much more than how happy he was. Words fail to describe what Reader means to him, yet he’s a novelist, for crying out loud! How ironic!

“...Reader is so patient with me,” Ike says. “And they’re so considerate and dedicated. I wish I told them that earlier. It’s hard to say things out loud like this, but you only meet people like Reader once in a lifetime if you’re lucky, and even then, there’s no one quite like Reader.”

ystariya: i love reader

Kaidororero: pen and paper awwww

Y A M: PEN AND PAPER

acklmystafoot: ike is so sweet!!!

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 💙

“Aaah!”

Ike recoils like his keyboard is flaming lava. The model on the screen leans back and freezes in place while he nearly throws himself out of his chair. “R-Reader! What are you doing here?!”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : FKJLJJSLKFJDKS LMAOOOOOOOO

Johnclone: Hello Reader!

Y A M: OMG

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : just wanted to say hi

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : hi!

Festersk: LMAO

Ike sputters out nothing but empty air and nervous laughter. “Haha. Um. Hi! Welcome!”

Stupid! He wants to kick himself. He’s made improvement on verbalizing affection, and he’s comfortable with Reader, especially now that there aren’t any secrets left, but he’s still so unfamiliar with affection being returned that his heart is still doing kickflips in his chest. 

haabinae: :_blush: :_blush: :_blush:

juuuuuuuuuus: most normal pen and paper moment

Thornmy: AWWW

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : check discord

A normal broom: Oh?

“Ah, okay! Give me a second.” Ike keeps his Discord on mute, and usually disables desktop notifications when he’s live, so he’s not surprised to open the window to unread messages and some non-urgent pings. Sure enough, Reader sent him something.

Reader: because you were talking about cafes

Reader: image.png (3)    | 💙 1 |

Me: Oh I recognize these from our first date!

It’s been over a week now, but just saying he went on a date with Reader has him squeezing his legs together so his feet wouldn’t start kicking in the air. 

Reader: ahh you remembered! 

Me: I should’ve figured you took more pictures than the ones you showed me

Reader: dw i have more i wanted to show you

Reader: image.png (8)    | 💙 1 |

Me: Seriously how are you so good at photography I don’t get it-

Me: You’re really pretty in this one!

Me: UGHHHH WHY DO I LOOK SO WEIRD    | ❌ 1 | 💕 1 |

Me: I DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE YOU TAKE THIS ONE

Reader: WTH YOU’RE NOT WEIRD

Reader: YOU’RE LITERALLY SO HANDSOME WHY DO YOU  T H I N K  I TOOK THAT PIC

Well, great, now he’s actually kicking in his seat. Ike is inclined to disagree, but when Reader says it, it’s a super-effective attack on his poor little novelist heart. 

Me: Akaslwdnja

Me: Thank you 😭

Reader: anyways i gotta go i stream in 20 min and i’ve barely eaten my food

Me: Go eat! Do you have enough water?

Reader: just refilled my bottle

Me: Good then don’t let me keep you! Have a good stream!

And before he can overthink it, in the moment—

Me: I love you!

His sights are set on his second monitor.

Reader is typing…

Reader doesn’t have to respond. Sometimes just saying it is enough. 

Reader: fdsjdfkl.

Ike’s been trying to relearn that lesson ever since he realized everything he repressed was reciprocated.

Reader: i love you too, ike

Words heard across the world, one of the people he holds most dear.

His heart beats loud in his ears, but he can feel it slow, somehow. Reader is exhilarating, but there’s security in them, too. The nerves kick in until he remembers they’re just as exposed as the other, and the vulnerability generate a sense of comfort. Reader makes him feel understood like no one else in the world does, and he trusts them more than anything.

He does. He does, he does, he does, even if he only has the strength to say it one at a time. Ike is in love.

Reader: i’ll let you know when i’m done streaming, we can watch a movie together after

Me: It’s a date!    | 💕 1 |

It takes him a moment to tear his gaze away from your messages. 

His streaming monitor reflects his movements. The chat moves along. Blue light spreads through his fingertips, just like how he imagines Vtuber Model Ike’s hands resting on his own keyboard, an extension of the man outside the screen, proof of the fantastical.

“They sent me something.” Ike’s laughter is gentle. “I really do love them.”

The chat zooms past, as expected. Surely that would get clipped alongside the off-collab Q&A, but he can’t seem to care. He doubts the fandom would really understand how deep the connection goes, and if they do? Some things are just meant to be private.

Besides, on the day Ike and Reader get comfortable enough in their relationship to go public, he knows the Quilldren have his back, just like Reader and their Bookworms. 

“Reader, if you’re still there, we need to meet up again,” Ike says. “I don’t know when, but one day.”

A flurry of messages, but only one truly matters.

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : i wouldn’t miss it for the world

The model onscreen grins. It pales in comparison to Ike himself.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊commentary ↣

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

#ike eveland x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland fluff #ike eveland angst #luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji #4402 writes #🖋 anon #fanfic is unrealistic and i know this because clippers would NEVER use semicolons in their captions #eating string cheese wrong is symbolic. it represents eavesdropping and shitty lies that go unnoticed #i hope i never see a typo in this thing this fic is literally impossible to edit on mobile #update: there were typos. and i had to wait 3 minutes for the editor to load on my laptop before i could fix them. rip #pliskinverse

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐢 𝐬𝐩𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞...

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you think your “tiny” crush on one d&d-playing, ring-wearing, poodle-rivaling brunet goes unnoticed until you’re confronted in a pizzeria of all places

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: fluff, cursing (possible overuse of ‘shit’), excessive and shameless but respectful staring lol, dustin being a good wingman (wingboy? idk), mike being a little shit, & mentions of weed

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3370

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: didn’t think i’d be joining the eddie munson band wagon but he and joseph quinn have stolen my heart & won’t give it back || i just finished vol. 2 … i am not okay 😀 i hope you enjoy & feedback is golden so let me know what you think! feel free to send me a request, guidelines here

buy me a coffee ☕️!

Eddie is different. And not because of his long hair with fluffy curls that could rival a poodle. Not because of his affinity for using his hands to make devil horns in that same poodle-rivaling hair. Not because he likes D&D, smokes weed, or does any of the other bullshit people find a reason to dislike.

Eddie is just different. But in the best way possible.

Like Steve, you had been roped in as mother hen number two, caring for the little troublemakers. It was comical how often they came looking to you for help when the other mother pawned them off on you, dubbing it “your weekend”.

It didn’t bother you. Like at all. In fact, you were more than comfortable with playing house. You would like to say that it’s because you have nothing else to do, but that is only partially true. There are a million and one other things you could be doing than waiting to catch a glimpse of Eddie “the freak” Munson.

And, yeah, maybe you are paying too much attention to someone who has hardly shown you interest; but life is short. Why not spend your time ogling?

You ogle discreetly - you never stare for longer than three seconds. Also, you always try your hardest to stay engaged in the ongoing conversation to not draw unwanted attention. While it may be a bit much, the plan is yours, and well, it works.

At least, it usually did. You blame the kids. The day had been chock-full of taking the little gremlins two towns over to get their sticky paws on the latest version of a video game, which resulted in your car breaking down. Then you had to get it towed and blah, blah, blah. Needless to say, your day had not exactly gone to plan.

Your day was a bit stressful, and who wants to feel stressed? Certainly not you. So, to feel better, you do what you have to. And it does its job. You decide to allow yourself more than three seconds to stare respectfully. What? You still have manners.

Staring at Eddie is like going to an art museum. You stare at the art because it captivates you, right? In your defense, Eddie Munson had captivated your attention on more than one occasion.

The thunking of the dice rolling on the table was followed by a collective groan. The frustration gave you the perfect opportunity to look back at Eddie. His head was tilted back in a hearty laugh as what he previously predicted came to bite the group in their asses. You wanted to feel bad for the kids, but he did warn them, so whatever happened was their fault. 

You were too busy window shopping to hear the repeated calls of your name. You pulled yourself out of your daydreaming, noticing Eddie staring at you. Wait... Not just staring at you. Eddie was staring at you, staring at him.

You quickly turned your gaze away from his brown eyes, praying to whatever higher power was out there he hadn’t seen you ogling him the entire time. Clearing your throat, you turned to Dustin, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Uhh, nothing.” The words came out way too fast, and you furrowed your eyebrows. Obviously, nothing meant there was something.

“Okay...” You felt your eyes drifting over to the brunet, poodle-rivaling D&D player. Before you could embarrass yourself any further, you stood up, the scraping of your chair against the floor directing all attention to you. Yeah, not really the effect you were going for.

“You guys hungry?” Simple. Effective. Mom hen-ish.

The group sang choruses of yes and omg, I’m starving. So, naturally, you were spared humiliation when you took a vote and landed on pizza. They were nearing the end of their campaign, and you knew they would be both hungry and tired afterward.

Just before you made it out the door, Mike called you back. You sighed, hoping he wasn’t trying to change the pizza order. What he said instead took you by surprise. “How are you gonna get there? I mean, your car is toast - like burnt toast. Like really burnt."

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them. Why did he feel the impending need to remind you of the hot shit you were already wading through? Michael Wheeler, everybody! The kid who gives no fucks!

“I can just get it,” Eddie suggested, leaning forward with elbows resting on the table. His hair was released from its ponytail - if it could even be considered one with its looseness. You found yourself staring a bit too long, directing your attention back to his face, where you discovered a cocked brow and tiny smirk tugging at his lips.

“Or!” Dustin shrugged, tilting his head back and forth. “You could just go together.” He sent a slightly sympathetic look to his older friend, “No offense, Eds, but you’re pretty shit at remembering things. Besides, who is gonna help you with all those boxes?” Dustin did an enthusiastic drum roll on the table, smiling, “Y/N! She’s pretty strong.”

-

You were trying to be strong; you really were. The ride into town was awkward, putting it mildly. You realized that it may have seemed rude to have your entire body facing the door and not to say a word, but being in a tight space, so close, you were trying your hardest not to stare.

Once the pizza place came into view, you quickly hopped out of the van as soon as he unlocked the doors. Your feet dragged you over to the entrance before you could stop them, and you felt bad when he reached over and held the door open for you.

You muttered a small thanks. Any more words, you would probably have exposed your silly little crush. 

It was mostly empty, and you took your time staring at the posters and writings on the walls, attempting to not stare at the one thing (or one person, to be exact) you should not be looking at.

But eventually, like they usually did, your eyes wandered over, and you found yourself staring at Eddie again. It was beginning to become a problem at this point. And that was further proven when he started talking.

“Hey, Paul, how ya doing? So we’ll get two...” Eddie squinted his eyes, tapping the counter with his fingers as if that would speed up the recollection process.

You snapped out of your stupor and stepped forward. “Hi, could you get us four pepperoni pizzas and one supreme?”

“Right.” Eddie clasped his hands together, nodding like he was the one who remembered, not you. “Four pepperonis and one supreme. Right, right, right.”

Paul jotted it down on his tiny notepad. Not looking up, he mumbled the price, and Eddie stopped you when you went to pull out your wallet.

Leaning on the counter with his elbows and hair sweeping over his shoulders, he flashed a grin at the boy. “Paul, my man, you remember that time you got some-” 

The brunet glanced at you, “substances... a.k.a. weed from me." Eddie coughed, whispering the words out. “And, you didn’t pay because your mom took away your allowance since you wouldn’t clean your room? Remember how I let it slide?”

Paul looked around the pizzeria nervously, hoping no one was listening. Once the coast was clear, he nodded, swallowing.

“Yeah, well, now is the time to pay. Soooo,” Eddie tapped his fingers on the counter as he straightened. “We’re gonna get these pizzas on the house, and you don’t have to worry ‘bout paying me back. Cool with you? Great! Go get ‘em, bud.” He patted Paul on the shoulder, sending him scurrying away to the back.

You watched the entire exchange with wide eyes. There was something so wildly attractive about Eddie taking charge, even if he couldn’t remember a simple pizza order. You thanked him quietly, again sure that if you said another word, it would be your inevitable downfall.

A silence settled over the two of you. Continuing to stare at the art on the walls and the work of art standing right next to you, you tried to recollect yourself. Though Eddie was probably a gift from whatever higher power was out there, your obsession was getting out of hand.

Sure, he might be nice to look at, but you weren’t some middle schooler who just figured out what crushes were and how exciting they could be. You were older and more rational and-

Before your affirmations could take off, a voice pulled you back to the present. You turned to see Eddie facing you. He chuckled softly, noticing that you weren’t paying attention to a word. You were stuck up in your head somewhere.

“Sorry, what?” You felt sheepish. Not only had you repeatedly stared at him like he was on display with you watching through the window to see if you wanted to try him on, but he had caught you doing so. Your zoning out and ignoring him was the cherry on the insurmountable pile of shit you were digging your way out of. If there was even a tiny chance in hell that Eddie was interested in you, it was now flushed down the drain for how rude you have been. 

“I said, do you wanna sit down? Probably be a while till Paulie boy is done, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to stand the entire time.” He shrugged, “Or, maybe you do. Who knows?”

“No, sitting sounds good.”

It wasn’t. The first couple of minutes were treacherously slow. Maybe your communication skills were terrible or maybe your eyes couldn’t stop staring at the tiles on the floor. Either way, the silent thing was not working, and you honestly felt so bad that Eddie had to put up with you.

Apparently, Eddie was as discontent with the awkward silence as you were. After humming and tapping his fingers on the table to a song oddly resembling Cherry Bomb by The Runaways, he leaned forward.

“Let’s play a game.”

A what? “Huh...” was your dumb reply. In your defense, you were still stuck on him knowing that song. Doesn’t he only listen to metal? At least, that’s what you heard during your stalking hours, which are anytime you two were in the same vicinity.

His laugh caught you off guard, but in a pleasant way. “God, you really are in your head a lot, aren’t you?” Warmth rushed to your face, and you suddenly felt like he had placed a spotlight directly on you.

“I- uh- I’m not-” You are so embarrassing. That thought was followed with a mental facepalm because what the hell were you saying.

“I’m sorry. That must be pretty annoying. What game did you have in mind?” Good, there you go. Normal speaking like a normal human.

Eddie watched you with interest, rolling his lips so the amusement begging to show would remain hidden. Ignoring the laughter bubbling in his throat, he made a circle with his hand and put it to his eye.

“Let’s play I Spy...”

You stared blankly for a few seconds, letting it marinate. Eddie was humming a song suspiciously similar to something you would have never guessed the brunet to be into. He also wanted to play a game. With a tilt of your head, you expressed your bamboozlement.

“What?”

“Oh, okay. You don’t know- Basically, the way the game works is someone finds something and-“

You held up a hand, halting his speaking as you chuckled. “I know what I Spy... is, Eddie. I just- You actually wanna play that? Or are you, I don’t know, just trying to fill the silence?”

He stared at you quizzically, and you figured you had said too much until he shook his head. 

“Nope, I wanna play. So, you in, daydreamer?”

“Sure.” Why not? What could possibly go wrong? 

And the game began. First, it was small things like something black and white. The floor tiles. Or something red. That one took Eddie a second because the two of you were in a pizza place where almost everything was red. But it was the jukebox collecting dust in the corner.

Then, things took a turn for the worst. Well, correction, they weren’t that bad (only slightly), but boy, did they take you by surprise. 

Eddie was next, and you were a bit nervous as he had given you surprisingly difficult, specific things to find. His brown eyes looked around the pizzeria before they landed on you, accompanied by a mischievous glint and a conspiratorial grin.

“I spy...” Eddie paused for dramatic effect, putting you on the edge of your seat, “with my little eye...”The brunet winked at you, and you mentally cursed whatever higher power created him. One simple gesture had you wishing you could stop window shopping, go into that metaphorical store, and take him home.

“A person.”

...

Is he serious?

“Wearing black.”

Is he talking about himself or...?

“Who is always stuck in their head.”

That’s oddly specific.

“And...” His grin morphed into a smirk as he squinted his eyes at you. You doubt he realized he was enunciating the purpose of the game. “Andddd is a little stalker.”

Can you guess who he’s talking about? Ding, ding, ding. You! We have a winner! Or maybe, this isn’t as much of a win, considering your crush (ahem, obsession) was just exposed.

“I can totally explain-” Could I, though? “I am so sorry.” That was partially true. You felt bad but who wouldn’t want to stare at Eddie Munson. “God, you must think I’m such a creep.”

Your worried rambling was cut short by the most angelic sound - Eddie’s laughing. You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. He was laughing at you. Laughing. You swear you have never felt as embarrassed in all your years.

“I think I’m just gonna go...”

Wait, how am I going to get home? Walk? Nah, too far. Hitchhike? Too dangerous. I’ve seen enough TV and newspapers warning against that to try it myself. I may be obsessive, but I’m not stupid. Wait, maybe I could-

Eddie covered his mouth, attempting to hide his laughter behind his hand. He shook his head, his face tinting red as he composed himself. “No, no. You’re- God-” He started laughing again. “You’re just, uh- it’s kinda cute, you know?”

Cute...?

He interrupted before you could ask what exactly that meant. “You probably think you’re pretty discreet, right?” Well, you did at first. But now, it was obvious that you had not been. “It’s just- it’s kinda obvious. Like the whole looking, then looking away, and the whole daydreaming thing.”

Oh. Were you really that obvious?

“C’mon, don’t be so embarrassed.” Eddie peeled your palms off your face. You looked up to see a wondrous sight. His face was reddened from all the laughing, and a wide grin had broken through the surface.

“Don’t be-” You pulled your hands away, pouting as you slumped in your seat. “Of course, I’m embarrassed, Eddie. You weren’t supposed to find out.”

This was torture.

“So, if I hadn’t called you out on it, you would keep doing it?” He caught you there.

“Well- um...” There was no way for redemption, so you shut your mouth. It was bad enough that he’d caught you, and you definitely didn’t want to make the situation even worse because your mouth wouldn’t stop moving.

Eddie watched your internal battle with an overly amused interest. Had the situation been different, you probably would have given him a piece of your mind. Instead, you sat in your seat, brows furrowed and lip jutting out as you tried to alleviate the sticky mess you found yourself in. 

“Look, Eddie, I’m sorry, really.” You took in a breath, “I completely understand why you might be creeped out and-”

“Hold on, wait.”

You stopped talking, finally turning to look at him. And, no, not like that. You were too embarrassed to enjoy the view. 

“You don’t think I’m actually mad, do you?" Your silence elicited an incredulous look from the brunet. “Do you?” A halfhearted shrug was your reply.

Sensing your embarrassment, Eddie stifled his laughing for real this time, ducking his head to look at you. All your previous thoughts about not being a crush-obsessed middle schooler were flushed down the clogged drain of your problems. It was silly, but you wanted to cry at how embarrassed and, quite frankly, mortified you felt. 

“Hey... you know I’m just messing around, right?” He scoffed, “Hell, I’m an attention whore so all your staring is going straight to my big ego. Do you realize that?”

A soft chuckle and a shake of your head made Eddie smile. “No, really. I’ve just been soaking it up. I’m a real glutton for praise, but hey, maybe next time, you should ask me out before undressing me with your eyes.”

You gawked at him, finally meeting his gaze. While you weren’t expecting him to be okay with it, it was an even bigger shock for him to say that.

It seemed that the gods or whoever was out there decided to end your misery. Or, they were sick and tired of you embarrassing yourself. Either way, Paul set the pizzas on the counter, calling the two of you over. 

“Oh, would you look at that? Our pizzas are done. I’m gonna go get them...” You mumbled out the last couple of words as you hurried to the counter like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Eddie watched in astonishment and amusement as you somehow bundled up all five pizza boxes in your arms, kicking the door open with your foot.

Dustin wasn’t kidding about you being pretty strong. Not that five pizza boxes are a whole lot. But still, Eddie was impressed.

He turned to Paul, who was wearing a similar look. “She’s pretty cool, huh?”

Paul could only nod, rubbing the back of his neck. Before the boy went to answer the ringing phone, he muttered and shook his head, “They make an odd couple.”

-

The two of you made it back, Eddie carrying most of the boxes (which he said was part of him making up for the immense teasing). You weren’t as discreet with your staring now. Why would you be? The cat was out of the bag, and you had a pending date with the person who opened it.

Dustin, who sported a shit-eating grin, remarked how Eddie could drive you around until your car was fixed. You realized that the little shit had orchestrated the whole thing. Not the car breaking down, but you and Eddie going together. You weren’t complaining, though.

A week or so later and the date came. When Eddie picked you up, you asked if you could play some music. In the glovebox where he kept all his cassettes and CDs was a mixtape with a song you knew all too well.

If you couldn’t guess, it was Cherry Bomb by the Runaways. Yeah, you aren’t letting that one go anytime soon.

#this is my year for new characters #chaos-is-beautifvl #chaos.writes 🖋 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader

[dazaiaiko]

Infatuation

Pairing : Dazai x fem!char

Genre: soft drabble

A/N : It's my first time writing a drabble as I'm not so confident in my short writing so here it goes to conquering one of my fears. Also- soft Dazai, hes such a mystery because its all up-to my own interpretation of how he is when vulnerable, so hope you enjoy this version of him<3

The moment of realisation for him isn't something romantically poetic or ironic, rather in the most ordinary moments of the day, while making his coffee, getting scolded by Kunikida, accompanying Ranpo to the site of crime, etc. And he doesn't dwell on it for long either for it is the human nature to fall and to get back up. For him, it would just be a matter of time until he gets back on his own two feet.

Then a month later, it would strike him again, strike him that he still admires her tresses falling by the sides of her jaw, embracing her face like a moth clings to the last light. Her eyes could be painted by a myriad of maestro, yet they could never perfect nor complement the emotions they hold. How he still thinks about her little sneeze when she forgot her coat in the office on a night walk and about the time he brooded all day long about the flowers which would complement her beauty the most, irises perhaps? or spider lilies? He never reached a conclusion.

How he stares at her face like it could have been sculpted by god himself for years to perfect his mortal masterpiece.

How he thinks back to the time he could see tears swimming in her water-coloured eyes when she reunited a child with his parents or the festering blood-rage in those same eyes when witnessing brutalities of sorts, of which Dazai could recall none for he was more enthralled in the emotion it evoked in her.

How could a human manage to be perceived as so effortlessly ethereal, he wondered.

And he will keep wondering, for it is more easier to wonder than acknowledging it out loud. Surely, he would get back up on his own feet. Surely.

For she had eyes and chose me

Calling ☎: @nullified-kiss @jessbeinme15 @shinys-bsd-world-1 @nameless-shrimp @missrown @ravenina14 @ikin-y0u @staryjordan85 + navigation post

#[aiko posts📜 ] #dazai #[ziel's library 🖋] #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bsd fanfic #dedicated to my muse #bsd x reader

[sonder-paradise]

Oh my god requests are open agahsks. I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while, yesterday's brainrot only made it worse, but I thought I'd pass it to you🤭.

I'd like to request a hurt/comfort fic with vulnerable Chuuya. The Chuuya who wants to make you happy, but also silently fears you will leave like the others in his life. The Chuuya who would give so much but expects little in return. The Chuuya who appears confident yet has insecurities about himself. And the reader basically comforts him about these things and shares his burden ahsjsks.

I hope this is not too abstract or anything please have fun with it if you decide to write it! Mwah!❤

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 — 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

◊ A/N: Thought I'd shoot two birds with one stone and get a req done at the same time. So thank you Kat for the req and a Happy Birthday to my wonderful Chuuya!! <3

◊ Genre: Hurt/Comfort

◊ Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x GN!Reader

◊ CW: Slight Stormbringer Suggestions but no official spoilers

◊ Word Count: 1.0k

A spiraling world of colors and images that Chuuya could only imagine had appeared when he met you. To him, you were human. The type of human that was pure and beautiful; Who had flaws and acknowledged them. And, god, how he loved you for it.

In this chaotic, unraveling mess of an underworld, the mafioso beguiled in the tempestuous light of your embrace. How far he had come from his nightmarish scene of ice and blood.

The dull tick of an analog clock trickled into the silence of the midnight-filled evening. No moonlight flooded the room through the lace-lined window sills. Instead, the gentle wafts of cotton-like clouds enveloped the sweet shine of the moonstone in the skies.

Chuuya stared at the ceiling. His mind occasionally drifted to the redundant sounds of the clock, but, for the most part, he indulged in the light inhale and exhale of your breath.

You were alive beside him. He could hear your heart colliding against his chest. It sang a song of life and rejuvenation; Something he wondered would chime in his own chest.

Then a soft rustle beside him signaled the end of your peaceful slumber.

"Chuuya...? Are you still up?" The grogginess of your voice made the ends of his lips upturn slightly and he gently rolled onto his side to hold you tighter.

He whispered your name in the stillness and you reciprocated with a soft, sleepy smile that made his heart slowly melt. "Go back to sleep."

"Are you going to?"

Chuuya wished he could say yes. He wished he could stop staring at the ceiling and listening to a heart that beat from the life of another. He wished... Well, Chuuya wished for a lot of things.

"No, probably not."

"Mmm, then obviously I'm not either," you chuckled, "How about you tell me what's wrong? Bad dream?"

His eyes softened at the word. How he wished he could define the word "dream" in his own vocabulary. But dreams were the concepts and ideas that swam in the memories of others, not him.

Chuuya swallowed thickly. "No. None at all, in fact."

"Then... what's up?"

His silence prompted a short reassurance that he didn't need to say anything unless he truly desired it.

But Chuuya shook his head, lifting a hand to timidly stroke your cheek with his thumb. "Do you think we'll be together for a long time?" Chuuya whispered the words as if they were molded from glass.

"I hope so."

Your answer gave him that familiar rush of butterflies he occasionally had when with you. And he exhaled tenderly at the words. "There's just been so many people I've lost. I'm worried that one day I'll wake up and you won't be in my arms anymore. I couldn't lose you, I can't lose you."

"But I'm so scared of that. Could you even believe that?" He took a moment to scoff at himself. "I'm Arahabaki. I'm a vessel for destruction. I'm not even meant to be alive. Everything I've gained, I've lost... That's why you can't be another one of them."

You could see the insecurities flow into those beautiful eyes you'd fallen deeply for. They swirled and spiraled in a messy, cacophonic hurricane and Chuuya was in the eye of the storm. The man that lay beside you was a man that gave so much and expected so little, lay loyal to the whole world even if its back was against him, and cherished every little breath you sent out into this vast universe. You cupped his face, studying the sadness, regret, and sensitivity in his soul.

"I won't," you finally said, "I'm yours; forever and always. I know how hard you work for others. I see the way you extend a hand to others, I see your selflessness, and I see your humanity. For everything you've given to the world, I want to give you ten times more."

Chuuya seemed starstruck now. His mind was off the dull analog clock, nor did it trace the pattern of your heart. But, most of all, you could see the storm in his eyes wash away with this enveloping love. It flew like a swarm of a thousand butterflies and settled in his adoring gaze.

And after a peaceful quiet that only two lovers could enjoy, Chuuya asked his final question of the night.

"Tell me about your dreams."

"Dreams?"

"Yes, dreams, idiot. I didn't ask for nightmares, did I?" The soft, questioning observance in his eyes did little to subside the rush of warmth he gathered for you.

"Mm. I dream about you sometimes. I dream about a life we'd have in the future. Sometimes it's stupid things, other times it's scary. What about you?"

Chuuya simply smiled, "I don't dream. Although, sometimes I think you are one."

A soft slap to Chuuya's chest sent the two of you into a fit of quiet laughter in the early hours of the morning.

"That was so stupid," you gasped through whispy laughs. Chuuya rolled his eyes, squeezing you gingerly.

Your attention to the clock came soon after and it was then that you smiled brilliantly. "It's your birthday now."

"Is it?" Chuuya asked nonchalantly.

"I'd never forget it. How about you make a wish?"

"A wish?" Chuuya's bewildered tone left plenty of room for you to laugh at the childish manner he spoke in.

"Yes, a wish. Tell me any wish you want and I'll try to make it come true."

All of a sudden the wishes Chuuya had were all but lost into the starry sky. What else could he have in this world? He had never asked for much originally. In this jumbled world, filled with the plights of humans, and the perfectionism of lovers, Chuuya didn't quite have an answer. Then, it finally came to him.

"Alright. Then, I wish we have sweet dreams tonight."

Tagging: @todorokichills @alittlesimp @greenshirtimagines @darlinqserenity @nameless-shrimp @whorefordazai @requiem626k @missrown @rirk-ke @kiyokoxd @jessbeinme15 @starglow-xx @shadyteacup @colourless-cora @scul-pted @kuraxmasha @yochicoz @pompompurin1028 @trashykawahq @swrdemon @axsuhii-axsuhii @foolishestchildofchilds @fyodorscello @kur0-kawa @hanemiso @dazaiaiko @chuuyasboots @ruthdied @allisonlol @questioningmyownexistence @sebtomm @nullified-kiss @finniesblog @cuteflowers-101 @sigmafied @boombboi @scarletta-ruan @skgch @daz8i @seoulnights5 @dazaiscum @arixsux @thekaylahub @alexaizawa @dazaisfavgf @thesatanofpizza @yuuotosaka3 @roiizuha @kisara-16reblogs @alice0blog @irethepotatosblog

Wanna join my taglist? Comment under this post!!

#[🖋] writing #HAPPY BDAY MY BELOVED <33 #no editing we die like men #chuuya x reader #chuuya bsd #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd chuuya x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd fic #bsd chuuya nakahara #bsd fanfic #chuuya x gender neutral reader

[starberry-skies]

[ID: Two replies from @most-certainly-not-lennard I NEED TO KNOW ABT YR OCS YOUVE MADE THEM KNOWN I NEED TO KNOW ABOUTTHEM or keep it to yrself if yr not ready to talk abt them thats chill too but just know i am interested End ID]

aaaaa tytyty for the invitation!!!! one day i'll talk abt em but idk idk idk..... i haven't rlly developed anyone's character or story or lore etc etc it's kinda just. look i made up a guy. yk. i also need to read moreee original stories bc i'm Good at writing fanfiction but original stuff? not as much.... (also thinkin abt it. my ratio of fanfic words read to original stories words read is prob like 3:1 ToT) OH BUT !! i'll prob make em in a picrew (or commission the wonderful @/crunchity-munchity) and then i'll post those :>

#chirping #i might post my fanfic here tho!! problem is i always loose steam immediatelyyy whoops #2b fair my general strategy w writing is um. brute force it. like no planned plot beforehand no drafts no storyboards no inspo playlists #none of that. it's gotta be perfect on the first try lmao (<- is well aware this is why it gets burnt out on fics) #ALSO sorry for the late responseee i deleted the tumblr app so i don't get notifs anymore lol #talking to mutuals #len 🖋 #ALSO ALSO sorry if this seems a little scattered. that's bc i am. ok

[foxytonics-quill]

Adventures in Babysitting (By Accident)

Summary: In which Billy Hargrove finds Eleven wandering around town while Hopper is otherwise occupied, and decides to be a pseudo-responsible adult about it instead of going to a party. Takes place during season two, before El leaves to find her mom. Instead of staying in on Halloween, El decides to defy Hopper and do some exploring in her spooky ghost costume.

Tags: Fluff, or as fluffy as Billy can get. Hurt/comfort. Kinda. El is surprisingly easy to talk to. Mad at dads. Camaro. Not a ship, omfg ew no. Unsafe/reckless driving. Adult language. Depression. Abuse mention. Candy. Halloween.

Characters: Billy Hargrove. Jane “Eleven” Hopper. Max Mayfield.

Max didn’t need a damn babysitter. Even if she hadn’t yelled it at him about a thousand times since they’d moved to Hawkins and countless times before that, Billy knew it to be true. She had her skateboard, her brain, and enough attitude to get her places that the other two couldn’t. She didn’t need him, despite what his father seemed to think. He didn’t want her to need him. Hell, she’d practically told him to fuck off as soon as he’d parked on the corner where she was supposed to meet her stupid little friends. He yelled that he’d make her skate home if she didn’t meet him back there by curfew, she yelled back, he yelled even more, she got out and flipped him the bird, and he took off like a bat out of hell, narrowly avoiding running anyone over.

Same shit, different day.

At least her insistence on being independent meant that he wasn’t stuck with her all night. He was free to do whatever the fuck he wanted, as long as he was still able to drive afterward. Usually, he’d go try to scare up a date and find a good spot to make out with her (or occasionally him), but tonight, he felt more drained than usual. It was hard for him to find the motivation to make someone else feel good when he himself was miserable, and while he could manage it most nights, he just wasn’t feeling it now. He wanted quiet. Solitude. A moment to be able to hear himself think and let go of his rage.

Billy put his mind to the one thing that almost never failed to make him feel less like he was drowning in a sea of hatred: driving. Windows down. Radio blasting rock music. One hand on the steering wheel, the other casually resting on the driver’s side door as he cruised down the tree lined back roads. He could already feel his anger starting to ebb away, even if it was just a tiny bit. It counted. It helped. The longer he drove, the more he felt like himself. Freedom, however brief it may have been, was the best feeling in the damned world, and Billy chased it every chance he got. Back in California, he’d done so by taking to the waves, all but surrendering himself to the power of the ocean with nothing but a board and tether to give him some semblance of control over his fate. It was exhilarating and terrifying and he loved it with all his heart. Now all he had was a Camaro and roads and whatever time he could take for himself. God, he missed the west coast. Every fiber of his being ached for it!

Unfortunately, unless he suddenly came across a boatload of money, Billy had no way of returning to the place that he still knew to be his home. Even if he did, his shithead of a sperm donor would probably find a way to drag his sorry ass back to Hawkins. He tried not to let that sense of melancholy hopelessness show because it would only make things even worse for him, but it was so incredibly difficult not to feel trapped. In this town, small and backwater as it was, and with a family that didn’t feel much like a family at all. He was a wild animal, locked in a cage and forced to do tricks to prove that he was worth the breath he still drew.

The notion brought back all of his frustration, tears pricking the corners of his eyes and threatening to spill over. The smart thing to do would probably be to pull over. Take time to breathe. To let himself cry and be safe while doing so.

Billy didn’t want to cry. It didn’t matter that no one was around to see it and mock him for it. He wasn’t sad, or afraid, or sensitive, or whatever bullshit label some shrink would probably throw at him. He was angry. White hot rage coursed through his veins, driving him to practically crush the gas pedal beneath his right boot. He shot down the road like lightning, barely aware of the haunting trees that flew by in the darkness. It was beyond dangerous, of course, but it was the release he needed, and he was more than experienced enough to keep himself from getting into an accident. Usually.

He’d finally started to slow down again, telling himself not to push his luck, when he thought he saw something white and almost formless standing in the road ahead. Panic suddenly took hold as he realized he wouldn’t be able to stop in time. He slammed on his brakes, anyway, swerving to avoid hitting the…whatever that was, and managed to pull over without crashing. Adrenaline pumping through his system, he threw the car in park and got out to see what he’d almost hit. The white figure slowly turned to face him. He stopped in his tracks, blue eyes widening in horror.

A kid. He’d nearly run over a kid! They were wearing a classic bedsheet-with-eyeholes ghost costume, so he couldn’t see their face, but they were staring back at him dumbly. As he was wont to do when exasperated in any way, Billy let out a string of curses. “Fucking damn it, kid, what the hell are you doing just hanging out in the middle of the road?! I could’ve killed you!” They didn’t respond verbally, so he grumbled under his breath and started moving toward them again, his lifeguard training kicking in and overriding his fear and anger for the moment. They didn’t try to run when he jogged over to him, which was good. The last thing he wanted to be doing was chasing some little idiot through the woods at night.

“Are you alright?” he asked, trying to calm himself so that he didn’t wind up scaring the kid off. Again, no verbal response. Maybe they were mute, or they didn’t speak English? “Can you understand me?” He was met with what looked like a nod, so he continued. “Good. C’mon, let’s get outta the road so we don’t wind up becoming some asshole’s new hood ornaments.” His tone wasn’t nearly as harsh as his words, and he held out a rough hand for the child to take. There was some slight hesitation before they took it, but he was able to lead them back over to his car without resistance.

His next act was to go rooting around in his glovebox for his flashlight and first aid kit. “Take that sheet off so I can get a look at you, make sure you’re not hurt or anything,” he barked back.

“Not hurt,” came the solemn reply in the voice of a young girl.

“Huh. So you can talk.” He turned back around to face her, flashlight in hand and a mildly irate scowl on his face. “And you can’t seriously expect me to take your word for that. Sheet. Off. Now. Before I yank it off myself.” She glared back at him defiantly, earning an eye roll from the older man. “Look, I’m not trying to be a creep, here, but I’m also not about to let some dumb kid run around the woods after dark on Halloween and get herself killed, and if you’re bleeding, I don’t want it all over my seats. Either you cooperate and let me make sure you don’t need patching up or anything, or we can do this the hard way.” Not that he really knew what the hard way would actually entail. Violent as he was, Billy didn’t relish in thought of hurting a kid. He’d grabbed Max plenty of times, even joked about hitting her stupid Ghostbuster friends on the way home from school, but he genuinely had no idea what he would have done if he’d actually caused them harm. He’d regretted it once his head was back on straight. “Come on, brat, move it or lose it!”

The girl finally ripped the sheet off to reveal a mop of curls, an awkward preteen frame clothed in plaid and denim, and an almost adorably pouty face that reflected his own frustration back at him. “I am not a…a brat!” she crowed, “And I am not dumb!”

“Then act smart,” Billy retorted, sneering down at her before gingerly starting his examination. She’d walked perfectly fine before, didn’t seem to be bleeding, and she gave him the correct answer every time he asked her how many fingers he was holding up, so a concussion was ruled out. “See? Was that so hard?” He grumbled, but there was no venom behind the words. “As far as I can tell, you seem fine. Now, you wanna tell me what the hell you were doing just standing out in the middle of the road?”

“I got lost,” was her short reply, and apparently the only explanation she was willing to give.

Billy stared at her, dumbfounded. “And your solution was to just plant yourself in the path of traffic and wait for someone to hit you?”

“You stopped.”

“Yeah, because I started paying attention again just in time! If I hadn’t, you’d be paste, and I’d have to spend the rest of the night scraping your guts outta my grill!” A gruesome exaggeration, for sure, but he was trying to get a point across. “You can’t fucking do that, kid! Damn near gave me a heart attack. Hell, what if I’d crashed into a tree trying to avoid you?!” He could see that his anger was upsetting her, and part of him thought, ‘Good! Let her be fucking upset! It’s her own damn fault!’

Anger would not fix this situation, though. It rarely fixed anything. Logically, Billy knew that, just like he knew that he was partially at fault because he was speeding and driving recklessly. He’d screwed up again, and jumped to blame anyone else but himself.

The girl must have seen it in his face because she beat him to an apology. It was a quiet, meek, somewhat reluctant, “Sorry,” but it was enough to send Billy reeling. He genuinely couldn’t remember the last time someone had said that to him and meant it.

He avoided her eyes, scanning the trees and the road instead. “Look, it’s fine. I’m okay. You’re okay. Just…y’know, don’t let me catch you doing that shit again,” he sighed, finally calm enough to reel himself in. One hand corded itself through his blond mullet, brushing stray hair away from his face. “You want me to give you a ride home?” He looked back down at her just in time to see her nod, then busied himself with putting the flashlight and the unused first aid kit back in the glovebox. When that was done, he gestured to the empty passenger seat. “Alright, hop in, little ghost.” She silently did as she was told, which was yet another relief, and Billy closed her door before jaunting over to the driver’s side. They were on the road in the next minute, cruising at a much safer speed than Billy had been going before.

“Do you know your address?” he asked, fairly certain that he’d be able to at least find her street. She rattled it off slowly, as if she was struggling to remember it, and he nodded. Evidently, she lived just on the outskirts of Hawkins, which worked in his favor. He’d gone for a drive out in that area too many times to count, so he knew most of it pretty well.

“Alright. You got a name?” She hesitated, and he didn’t need to look at her to know that she was debating whether or not to answer truthfully. “Or I could just keep calling you kid, ghost, brat…,” he taunted, hoping to goad her in to correcting him.

As expected, she took the bait. “El,” she snapped quickly, earning a smirk from the teen. “Call me El.”

“El it is. I’m Billy.” They both went quiet after that, with only the screaming guitars of whatever rock song happened to be playing on the radio and the consistent rumbling of the engine to break the silence. They were way farther away from her home than he’d anticipated, though, which brought another question forth as he continued to drive. “So…how did you manage to wander almost all the way out to Lover’s Lake by yourself? I mean, that’s a long-ass walk, especially when you don’t know where you’re going.”

El stayed quiet for a long while, and when Billy glanced over at her to make sure she hadn’t passed out or something, she was simply glaring straight ahead. He got the impression that she wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. That was fine. He didn’t mind being around kids when they weren’t being loud, obnoxious, unruly brats. When she finally did answer, she very nearly startled him with her concise and staccato words. “I was angry.”

Once his shock died down, he was able to let out a wry bark of a laugh. “Me too, kid. Me too.” Another beat of silence, and then, “Hey…I’m sorry. For yelling and being a dick.” More silence, which he took as a cue to keep going with his awkward apology, something he’d rarely ever done of his own volition. “I had a pretty bad day…or several bad months really, and you scared the crap out of me, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, but I did because I don’t know how not to be that person anymore.” Billy couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, or that they just wouldn’t stop. “I’m angry, too, and I don’t know how not to be angry, and that just pisses me off even more. Hell, I don’t even remember the last time I wasn’t angry, it’s been so long.” She was staring at him now. He could feel her eyes on him. Not that he could blame her for it at all. He was a freak show through and through, no matter how hard he tried to pretend that he wasn’t. A raging madman trying desperately to keep in check what he usually let run wild.

When he glanced over at El again, however, those eyes weren’t full of judgment or even pity. What he saw was understanding. A kinship between himself and someone who seemed way too young to be filled with as much fury as either of them were. He doubted that they shared a lot of the same experiences, of course, but there was still something oddly comforting about the fact that she saw something in him. That they had common ground.

“I remember.” Her words jolted him again, and he side-eyed her before turning his gaze back to the road.

“What?”

“The last time I wasn’t angry. I remember.”

“Good for you, El. You’re still young enough.”

“You will, too.” He didn’t have a response to that that didn’t sound overly cynical, so the silence stretched on until she broke it with a question. “Are you still angry?”

“Yeah,” he answered without having to think too much.

“At me?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Why am I still mad, or why am I not mad at you?” Billy asked, growing slightly more irritated. “And why are you suddenly such a chatterbox, huh?”

“Curious. Why are you mad?”

Billy scowled. He should have seen that one coming the moment he started opening up even a little bit. He heaved a sigh, glaring at the road to keep himself focused. “Because my dad’s a dick. Because he married a coward. Because he expects me to look out for her little hellspawn while he’s out wining and dining her to convince her that he has an iota of decency in him. Because everything I do is just another screw-up made by his screwed up f-“ he stopped himself there, short of coming out to a preteen he’d just met. “His screwed up failure of a son.” More tense silence, and then…

“Mouthbreather.”

“What?!”

“Your dad. He’s a mouthbreather. A dumb person.”

Anger immediately gave way to stunned pause, and then shocked yet uncontrollable laughter. Billy’s mouth widened into a grin as he broke out into an amused giggle fit that had him struggling to concentrate on his driving. “God, you’re a goofy kid,” he uttered, still smiling after he managed to compose himself. “And you know what? You’re not even wrong! The man does not know how to keep his mouth shut, even when he isn’t screaming about something. He snores, too. Loud enough to shake the whole damn house.” Eleven was laughing, now, too, which brought him even more relief. She’d seemed so serious and…off when he’d picked her up, and it only now registered in his brain that that had worried him so deeply. No kid should ever have to be that no-nonsense, that void of joy. It genuinely was good to know that she was capable of humor, awkward as she was, and in such capacity that she could make him laugh with just one deadpan joke. That she could make him not forget his anger but redirect it, even for just a moment. Part of him wondered if he could ever share the same thing with Max, if he would ever stop being angry and she would ever stop being stubborn and afraid for long enough to share jokes like that. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted it, and the more he knew it was wishful thinking. Max hated him. He knew that. He practically made sure of it.

His laughter died down, smile fading to something more neutral as he tried to hide his regret. “I bet you would get along famously with my stepsister. You two kinda have the same sense of humor. Except, y’know, you’re way less of a shithead than she is.”

“Stepsister?”

“Max. Redhead. Brat. Carries her skateboard everywhere. You probably go to school with her, right?” More silence. A quick glance showed that Eleven was hesitantly shaking her head, which surprised Billy. “Do you not go to Hawkins Middle School..?”

She shook her head again. “I can’t go to school.”

That explained a lot about how she spoke, but left him with far more questions and alarm bells ringing in the back of his head. “The fuck?” he blurted. “You can’t go? Why can’t you go to school?” His tone carried concern rather than accusation.

“Hop says it’s to protect me.”

“Hop…as in Hopper? Police Chief Hopper?” She nodded, and Billy could tell she was squirming in her seat now, like she’d said to much. That wasn’t a good sign, and it brought back some rough memories from his youth of awkward conversations with teachers about bruises and scars. “Protect you from who?” he continued, trying to keep his cool.

“The bad men.”

Three words that sent a chill down Billy’s spine. If he didn’t like where this was going before, he definitely hated where it was going now. “What bad men?” Her silence spoke volumes, inspiring a desperation in the teen. “Hey, El, I know we just met, and I haven’t given you much reason to trust me, but if…if someone is hurting you…if you need help, please say something about it, okay? Don’t…don’t be like me. Don’t just stay quiet and keep your head down and hope it gets better. It won’t. Not as long as you’re still in that abusive environment.”

“I’m not!” she yelled, startling him for the upteenth time that night. “I’m not like you! I got out! Papa’s dead, the bad men can’t find me, and Hopper is helping me not be found.” Billy pulled over and stared at her for a moment, having the presence of mind to keep them from getting in a wreck, but still totally shocked. He had no idea what to do with this information, and for once, he wasn’t compelled to yell back. El continued with a firm, “I don’t need your help.” Her brown eyes bored into his blue ones, and in that moment, he was inclined to believe her. “Too dangerous for you. Just take me home.”

Her demand snapped him out of his reverie, shock now mixing with the returning rage at his own situation. She’d been able to escape her apparently terrible father and get help, and he was still stuck with his. Relief, jealousy, despair, and a tiny sliver of hope that felt so completely alien to him. It was all threatening to overflow, to drown him and flood his vision with red, but it wasn’t her fault. None of it was. She didn’t ask for anything she’d been through, just as Billy had never asked to be the irate, abused, bisexual, nicotine addicted son of a jackass. He kept that in mind as he begrudgingly relented, temper in check for once in his life. “Fine,” he barked, breaking eye contact to check his gas gauge. “But I gotta make a pit stop on the way.”

“Pit stop?” El questioned, adopting that challenging tone that he’d heard so often from Max’s insufferable mouth.

“Yeah,” he shot back. “I’m low on fuel, and I’d rather not be stuck at the chief’s cabin in the woods, waiting for someone to bring me a damn gas can so that I can go pickup my stepsister after this. Is that acceptable?” The obvious sarcasm of his question seemed to settle her down a little, whether because she was trying to suppress amusement or because she knew he wasn’t truly mad at her.

Still, she answered with a prim, “Yes,” and a nod, and turned in her seat to face forward again, arms crossed over her chest.

“Good.” Billy sneered mildly and pulled back out onto the road, grumbling lowly about little girls, and shitty attitudes, and how he was never going to have kids. He could hear El snickering beside him, but pretended not to. They pulled into the gas station, and Billy parked before hopping out to prepay and start the pump. He leveled a calculated gaze at the adjoined convenience store he’d just left before glancing back down at El. “Hey,” he barked, grabbing her attention. “I’m going inside to get something to drink, maybe some snacks. You want anything before I drop you off at Hop’s?” She stared at him for a moment before slowly shaking her head, and he knew immediately that it was a lie. It was Halloween, after all. He smirked briefly to himself, then fixed her with a stern glare. “Alright. Stay. Put. I mean it. If I come out here and find out you’ve run off on me, I will hunt your scrawny ass down and deliver you right to the sheriff’s office. Got it?” She nodded, and he turned back to the pump, satisfied that she would obey him.

Tank full, he put the pump back and jogged back into the convenience store, making a beeline for the miraculously mostly stocked candy shelf. It occurred to him as he stared at the options that he genuinely had no idea what El would even like, or if she was allergic to him, but he decided that buying one of almost everything couldn’t hurt. Let Hopper deal with the sugar rush, if he was even home. Billy somehow doubted that; the chief didn’t strike him as the type to knowingly let a kid wander around by herself after dark, especially if he was protecting her from someone, and he also doubted the girl could have snuck past him. Hopper was most likely working late, providing the perfect opportunity for El to try and clandestinely go trick-or-treating. Billy scoffed a laugh at that. She really was a goofy kid.

He paid the bewildered cashier for the load of goodies and a coke, and headed back outside. Sure enough, El was still sitting in the passenger seat, looking bored out of her mind. Smirking, he tossed the bag of candy through the open window into her lap, watching as her eyes nearly bugged out of her head before moving around to settle himself into the driver’s seat. The questioning look she gave him was almost adorable. “Happy Halloween, kiddo. Do me a favor and don’t tell Hopper you got that from me, and I won’t tell him you snuck out and almost got ran over. Deal?”

“Deal!” she answered hastily and immediately began digging through the bag of sweets, drawing a laugh from the teen as he pulled back out onto the street. The rest of the drive went smoothly. Billy felt for the next twenty minutes or so like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He could taste that freedom he was craving, now that he knew it was attainable, and all of his rage was temporarily quelled. He relished once again in the cool breeze blowing through his hair as they cruised over to Hopper’s cabin. When it came time for El to get out, there was no yelling, no curses, no middle fingers. Instead, she grinned with chocolate stained teeth and thanked him, both for the ride and for the candy. He stuck around long enough to make sure she got in the front door safely, then took off. He still had to go pick up his sister, after all, and she probably wouldn’t be amused by the fact that he was the one who was late, for once.

He didn’t care. Max could be mad at him all she wanted, and it wouldn’t matter. Tonight had actually turned out to be a good night for him. She rolled her eyes when she piled herself, her skateboard, and her haul into the passenger seat. “You’re a ray of sunshine,” she remarked. “Let me guess, you humiliated Steve at that stupid Halloween party?”

Oh. Shit. In truth, he’d completely forgotten about the party, having gotten so worked up and stuck inside his own head. “Nah,” he snarked back, still grinning. “Didn’t need to. Pretty Boy’s perfectly capable of embarrassing himself without me holding his hand. I’m sure he did a splendid job of it this evening.”

She gave him a skeptical look, eyeing the half empty coke bottle he was sipping from. Trying to discern whether or not he was sober. “So…you didn’t go? Like at all? I thought it would have been vital to your high school bad boy reputation.”

“Well, see, was gonna go, but then I met this girl on the way…”

“Ugh, never mind. Forget I asked,” she scoffed, hurriedly fastening her seatbelt. “Just drive, jeez!”

A wry smirk curled the corner of his mouth. “I thought you’d never ask,” he quipped, tone sickly sweet as he threw the car in drive and started their journey home.

“And don’t hit anyone!” Max added as a panicked afterthought, sobering him a bit.

“I won’t! Cross my heart and hope to die.” The memory of swerving to avoid El played back in his mind, followed shortly by their fight on the way home from school. “And I’m not that stupid. I wasn’t actually gonna run over your little friends. It was a dumb threat.”

He could feel her staring at him still, and his grip tightened on the wheel. “Yeah, no shit,” she finally mumbled. “Just…don’t do it again.”

“No promises.”

“Billy!” She punched his arm and he grinned back at her to show he was kidding, only to be met with a nasty glare and a stuck out tongue. He laughed, and they drove off into the night, heading to the house that would never be home to him.

#✒️a day like any other day🖋 slice of life #✒️not my concept but i’m running with it🖋 fanfic #stranger things #billy hargrove #max mayfield #eleven #jane hopper #been working on this for a while #it’s a one shot for now

[the-resting-grounds]

Need to revamp this bitch

#i wanna have a page for people following my fanfics on other platforms to talk #🖋.misc

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

(🖋 so i can keep an eye out)

AITA for reporting fanfic on tumblr for sexual content when its untagged/not under a readmore?

I'm mostly asking this because I'm curious, and full disclaimer I am not anti- or pro-ship, I don't subscribe to shipping discourse at all, as long as it's tagged and warned correctly, go nuts show nuts.

I have a pet peeve about fanfic authors posting their 'x reader' fanfictions in main tags (I follow quite a few main tags). If the fanfic is properly tagged, it has warnings on the introduction regarding the content, and the main body of the fic is under a readmore, I don't touch it. It's easy to scroll by, it doesn't hurt anyone, I don't care. Obviously, there isn't a universal 'x reader' tag, or they would all be blocked by my tumblr filters automatically.

But when a write posts their fic with graphic sexual content, doesn't add the community warnings FOR sexual/mature content, and doesn't put it under a readmore, filling main tags with graphic sexual descriptions, I report that post for sexual content. I used to try sending anonymous asks to the writers, asking politely for them to use readmores or to at least use the community warning tags, but more often than not I've either been ignored or they replied rudely like "I don't think I should have to do that." More often than not, these writers have 'Minors DNI' in their bios too, but they're not actually tagging their fics so that minors (or anyone else who doesn't want to see that) don't see them when they go into main fandom tags. I think that when posting anything, it's important to tag it properly so that the people who don't want to see it aren't subjected to it. I've also blocked a load of these accounts because their fics were flooding my followed tags dashboard, but at some point I don't think that I should have to. I think that they should be marking their works properly.

So, to tumblr as a whole, am I the asshole for reporting explicit, untagged fanfiction for sexual content?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[shuchu]

just saw the last ask you answered and oml anon is the right !! I've been soooo thirsty for my man eveland, all I need is ikey to fuck my mouth and spit on it :c the thought of ike and face fucking has been on my mind for so LONG, I once read a fanfic about it on ao3 and I can't stop thinking about it </3

🖋 anon

omg- that's so hot wtf...

nsfw, minors dni

he'd have his fingers tangled up in your hair, looking down at you with his mouth agape and soft breathy groans escaping from his lips. you're teasing him, lightly hollowing your cheeks and moving slowly up and down his length. you meet his gaze and you're met with a hungry, lustful look from ike that makes the knot in your abdomen tighter.

moments pass and ike can't take it anymore, he moves his hand to the back of your head and starts fucking your throat. his groans turn into moans as the warmth of your throat brings him closer to the edge.

"fuck- sweetheart," he slides his cock out of your mouth, "open your mouth."

you do as you're told and he spits into your mouth, "swallow."

he groans as he watches you and you take him into your mouth again. this time, moving your head at a faster pace. ike's breathing turns more erratic and he tilts his head back, moaning your name as he comes undone in your mouth and down your throat.

👁🫦👁 ike can do whatever he wants to me and i'd thank him

#hana replies ♡ #🖋 anon ♡ #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #luxiem #luxiem x reader

[badhairred]

Links

Tiktok 🎶

Instagram📸

Ao3 account 🖋

Fanfic Masterlist

WIP's

Godlight || (E) Jegulus/Wolfstar, minor background relationships - James and Regulus are teammates for Formula One team Andretti and Remus and Sirius are teammates for Formula One team Black-Hill. They battle for the championship and have to navigate their feelings, all while living in the spotlight

Completed

Multiple Chapters 📖

Christmas Lights || (E) Jegulus - Regulus and James meet at the airport when they are both travelling back to London

Fertility || (E) ABO Jegulus - Regulus and James have a pregnancy scare, which gets them thinking

One-shots 📄

Stellify || (E) Jegulus - James is feeling pretty and has a surprise for Regulus.

Let Us Give the Heavens a Reason to Look Down and Be Envious || (E) Jegulus - Lord Regulus Black of Islington is one of the ton’s most eligible bachelors, much to his chagrin. He doesn’t need a wife. He certainly doesn’t need to be matched with a frivolous girl who has just turned seventeen and only wants to marry him for his fortune. At one of the many balls he is expected to attend, he meets someone unexpected.

Ustulation || (E) ABO Dorlene - Marlene and Dorcas meet unexpectedly on a cruise and their rut/heat kick in

Promise || (E) Wolfstar - Remus breaks a promise and has some apologising to do.

Howling Love || (T) Wolfstar - Sirius reads a book taking place in the Omegaverse and wonders if some things would apply to his werewolf boyfriend

Cozen || (E) Jegulus - James and Regulus broke up, and when Regulus goes out and sees James, he can't help acting petty

Malady || (E) ABO Jegulus - James and Regulus agreed to wait a year before mating, with profound consequences.

Larceny || (E) ABO Jegulus - Regulus comes up with a plan to find a little comfort during his painful heat. Little did he know fate would present him with the best gift he could have never hoped for.

Buoyancy || (E) Jegulus - Regulus wants to get back into swimming after moving back to London. He just can’t stop looking at this guy in the pool.

Series 📚

Inspired by Spookeart

Omegaverse Jegulus

✨️ Please ask me anything about my works or aspects of them!

✨️ I welcome constructive criticism

✨️ please ask when using my fics for art/edits/binds

#fanfic #marauders #masterlist #abo #alpha beta omega #omegaverse #jegulus #18+ content #constructive critism welcome #marauders era #james x regulus #remus x sirius #ao3 link #ao3 writer #dead gay wizards #wolfstar #writing

[awakentrashpanda]

To encourage some audience participation since I’ve noticed, my inbox is completely empty 

I am so lonely~🎶

I have created a character Q&A

 🧵Is there anything they can’t do?

🕷What is a phobia they have the opposite of?

🍁What is their favorite season?

🍭What is their favorite flavor(s)?

🎮What is their favorite video game genre? Any games in particular they like?

⛺️What would they do on a camping trip?

🔪How easily can they get aggressive and/or violent?

🎶What kind of music do they like?

🏳️‍🌈How do they respond to being asked their pronouns?

🩹How often do they get hurt?

🧸Do they have any particular object that brings them comfort?

🍺Do they drink alcohol? What kind?

🧁What is their favorite holiday?

👻How do they feel about ghosts?

💋What kind of kisser are they?

💅🏻How petty are they?

💍Would they propose or be proposed to? How would they do it?

🦄Are they good with kids?

🐛How would they react to seeing a bug in their house?

🐳What’s their favorite thing to do at the beach?

🍀How lucky are they?

🥀How do they cheer up someone who’s sad?

🍄What were they like as a kid?

🌧Do they like rain? What do they do on a rainy day?

🍓What do they like to do with their free time?

🥐What’s their favorite breakfast?

🥞Can they cook?

🥩Do they like creepy stuff?

🍼How would they hold a baby?

🎤Are they a good singer?

💉How do they feel about going to the doctor?

🎉What do they usually do at party?

📌Do they pull pranks? What kind?

❤️How do they show affection?

🧡Do they want a pet? What would that pet be?

💛What’s their favorite color? Why?

💚Night owl or early bird?

💙If they had a child what would they name them?

💜What kind of content do they watch on YouTube?

🖤What would they be like as a Yandere?

🤍Do they have any nicknames? Which one(s) are their favorite?

🛏What’s sharing a bed with them like?

🥊What is their fighting style?

🎨What does their art style look like?

🖋What does their handwriting look like?

🤬How much do they swear?

🦉Do they prefer day or night?

🌺Who is their favorite fictional character?

⭐️Are they good at keeping secrets?

🍏Are there any kind of places they hate?

🥖How many languages can they speak? What are those languages?

🧃What’s their favorite drink?

🎬What kinda movies do they like?

🚗Are they a good driver?

📓Would they read or write fanfics?

💕How good are they at flirting?

🇺🇸What’s their nationality?

🔴What kind of Pokémon would they be?

🟠If they had an epithet what would it be?

🟡What is their least favorite color?

🟢If they played Inscryption what would their deck be like?

🔵What is their occupation?

🟣What kind of villain would they be?

⚫️If they had a YouTube channel what kind of content would they make?

⚪️How do they stim?

🚹What would they look like with a mustache?

🚺Do they like dresses and feel comfortable in them?

🧨What are they like when they’re mad?

🎂How do they feel about their birthday?

🧶What is their zodiac?

🌼Are they an introvert or an extrovert?

🎟How likely are they to make a dumb decision?

💐What is one thing about them you find adorable?

🍒How intimidating are they?

🍟What is their favorite food?

🍬What is their favorite song?

⚔️Is there anyone they hate?

🎩Who is their favorite person?

👃🏻What do they smell like?

🫐How easily do they get distracted?

🪲What is their favorite flower?

🫗What is their greatest weakness?

🫙What’s their biggest insecurity?

🛼Do they have any siblings? How many? Do they get along with them?

🩼What is their worst injury?

🪫What are their phobias?

🩻Are they Squeamish?

🪅What flavor would they be?

🧷What is their “happy place”?

💢What annoys them the most?

🥄How do they walk?

🍸What are they like when drunk?

🦷What day of the week were they born?

🪷What is their middle name?

🎲Give us a random head canon about them

Simply type an emoji and the name of one of my OCs and I will happily answer :)

Also, feel free to reblog and use these questions for people to ask you about your own OCs 

#oc ask meme #ask away! #Awaken #OC #ocs #original character

[nabulsi]

Wayhaven Fanfic Masterpost 🖋

in honor of Book 3 coming out, I figured I'd make a masterpost of all my work~

A du Mortain:

Pas de Deux [Oneshot] Rating: T || Fluff & Angst || 2,510 words

Skin and Bone [Oneshot] Rating: T || Heavy Angst with Happy Ending || 2,716 words

Nocturne [Two-shot Part 1] Rating: M || Heavy Angst and Body Horror || 1,340 words

Aubade [Two-shot Part 2] Rating: T || Heavy Angst / Insects / Horror || 1,403

Ghostly Touches [Oneshot] Rating: G || Fluff and Humor || 595 words

Until Someone Holds Me [Oneshot] Rating: G || Hurt/Comfort || 910 words

Head On Backwards [Oneshot] Rating: G || Angst / Hurt/Comfort || 1,012 words

know that it doesn't hurt me [Oneshot] Rating: T || Heavy Angst / Character Death || 440 words

Girls' Night In [Oneshot] Rating: G || Family & Fluff || 790 words

Little Quarantine Mind [Oneshot] Rating: T || Angst / Hurt/Comfort || 1,620

Silent Harbors [Multichapter - Ongoing] Rating: M || Angst / Psychological Horror & Gore || 15,824 words

Sellout [Multichapter - Ongoing] Rating: T || Lovers to Enemies / Action & Humor || 4,215 words

Twin Souls [Multichapter - Ongoing] Rating: T || Vampire Diaries AU || 2,116 words

F Hauville:

say you wanna be here; [Oneshot] Rating: T || Pure Fluff || 1,268 words

N Sewell:

Ritardando [Oneshot] Rating: G || Pure Fluff || 1,315 words

Untouched and Unspoken [Oneshot] Rating: G || Light Angst / Hurt no Comfort || 990 words

Menace [Multichapter - Ongoing] (Nate / MC / Murphy Love Triangle) Rating: T || Comedy / Thriller / Action || 5,802 words

In Faded Reflections [Multichapter - Ongoing] (Nat is inquisitor in Dragon Age AU / Nat x Solas) Rating: T || Fantasy / Mystery / Slow burn || 1,989 words

Agent M:

Hearts are Frozen [Oneshot] Rating: T || Abbasid Empire AU / Fluff || 1,559

Working Overtime [Oneshot] Rating: T || Fluff with the mildest of spices || 812 words

Repressed Vampire Love Triangle AU [Ava / MC / Morgan]:

Imaginary Relationship [Morgan Oneshot] Rating: G || Hurt/Comfort /Umrequited Feelings || 510 words

Reaching Through the Cracks [Morgan Oneshot] Rating: G || Unrequited Love & Angst || 839 words

If U Think About Me [Morgan Oneshot] (Book 3 Spoilers) Rating: T || Fluff & Angst || 1,106 words

The Conspiracy [Morgan & Ava Oneshot] Rating: T || Angst & Friendship || 742 words

melt into you [Morgan Oneshot] Rating: T || Hurt/Comfort || 1,612 words

Rabbit-Hearted [Morgan & Ava Oneshot] Rating: G || Angst & Jealousy || 600 words

Pulling You into Focus [Morgan Oneshot] Rating: E || Fluff & Smut || 2,043 words

Other:

A Sweet Affair [Ava & Farah Oneshot] Rating: G || Fluff & Family || 750 words

Unsolved [Multichapter || Compete] Rating: T || Dark Comedy / Horror & Mystery || 70,966 words

(Rest of the List is under the cut)

Requests Fulfilled:

Listing these with keywords because they don't have titles~ (None of these are Explicit btw)

A du Mortain:

[Adam Sick-Fic]

[Adam Fluff]

[Ava Domestic Fluff]

[Adam reacting to MC death]

[Ava in Denial over her feelings]

[Waking up with Adam Fluff]

[Adam Angst]

[MC Writes Angsty letter to Ava]

[Ava Silliness]

F Hauville:

[Farah fluff]

[Felix Bath Time]

[Felix at the Arcade]

[Farah Fluffy Silliness]

[More F Fluff]

Agent M:

[Mason Pining - Mason/MC/Felix Love Triangle]

[Mason reassures self conscious MC]

[Morgan distracting MC from work]

[Waking up with Mason]

A / N Polyamory:

[Bath Time fluff w/ Adam and Nate]

#my writing #the wayhaven chronicles #whc #twc #wayhaven fanfiction #twc fanfic #paptalk #i hope all these links work bc my brain stops working when I'm fasting #a

[dragonageannual]

We are very proud to welcome @pocketshna the project!

🖋 Whether its a fanfic or original work I love getting to write stories for my friends. 🖋

#contributor spotlight #dragon age annual #charity calendar

[foxytonics-quill]

Tag dump!

#✒️out of quills🖋 not writing #✒️these violent delights🖋 spicy writing #✒️Nothing can come of nothing🖋 writing prompt #✒️make me immortal with a kiss🖋 romance #✒️picking up my quill🖋 my writing #✒️oddly specific scrapbook🖋 character inspiration/study #✒️rolling boulders and sword fights🖋 action/adventure #✒️mad scientists and spaceships🖋 sci fi #✒️I just wanna give you the creeps🖋 horror #✒️a day like any other day🖋 slice of life #✒️a dose of my chaos🖋 personal journal #✒️fangs fur and other ferocities🖋 supernatural #✒️do not step into the faerie circle🖋 fantasy #✒️not my concept but I’m running with it🖋 fanfic #✒️I made a thing!🖋 original writing #✒️how do I make maps in my brain?🖋 world building

[anystalker707]

[transcription in alt]

bagel my beloved &lt;3

✧˖°꒰ঌ[ REQUESTS OPEN ]໒꒱°˖✧

Currently, I write for One Piece, Haikuyy!!, Attack on Titan and Vikings (the last one, only on my side blog). I do not write for MCR anymore (explanation). 🖋 MASTERLIST INDEX ❗ REQUESTING INFO ❗ REQUESTS STATUS

I only upload my fanfics on Tumblr and Wattpad. If you see them somewhere else or published by another user, please let me know.

-

some tags: ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽『axl recommended fic』☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ☽⋅─•『love this art』•─⋅☾ ︶꒦꒷『precious (wgbt)』꒷꒦︶ ˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰『writer4writer』꒱₊˚ˑ༄ 𓆩♱𓆪『Axl answers』𓆩♱𓆪

#lmao i lost the other post like this #introduction #mypost #important #axlspeaks