#and I have the same amount of wips about them

[martsonmars]

Send me an ask with a number (or more than one, I love rambling) between 1 and 64 and I'll talk about the corresponding WIP/fic idea.

#ok so #i have a LOT of fic ideas and most of them are listed in the same doc #but 64 of these have their own doc #even though i started only some of them #(and most have just a couple of paragraphs written) #i'm actively writing just a few #anyway not here to be shamed about the amount of wips i have

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Work In Progress: In Between. Please witness the absolute Delight it has been to take my book apart by not!chapters, shuffle them into a different order based on which scene openings echo each other (subtle nightmare loop for the win!), and then color-code them accordingly (colors not shown).

Yeah, I know Scrivener is cool, or whatever, but can you take over a closet with it, your pages, and a handful of magnets?? I Don’t Think So.

#photography #my photography #writing #in btw #driscoll #revising #wip #i'm kidding about scrivener lol if it sparks joy for you u do u!! #sometimes i need to make my shit Tactile™ though so. here we are on a closet door #anyway the rows (plus cascading row i have a finite amount of closet space) are different openings mirrored or echoed or tweaked #structurally the same within a row but changed out the verbiage #i needed to See Them All to make sure they're echoing the right bits back to each other #so i've got my cards map color coded a couple ways now it's so great #i like this step Back i like Seeing What I've Got #i am however running out of ways to cut this thing apart and i suspect soon i'll be firmly into Procrastination Territory soooo #i'll get on that lolol #ANYWAY THIS HAS BEEN FUN I'M ENJOYING MYSELF SO FAR

[kurogxrix]

Charm’

Footballer!E-42 Miles Morales x reader

IN WHICH despite the amount of fame and fangirls that your footballer boyfriend Miles receives, he never fails to remind them that he’s yours and yours only at the end of the day.

A/N: this is a rushed ass wip that i wanted to finish, so don’t expect much😭

The yelling and high-pitched crying has been going on for a solid minute now, and the red carpet laid between the crowd control barriers has yet to be occupied. It was always this way, fans crying out their love to Miles before the man could even leave the building, then yelling some more as the poor man simply walked down the short hall to reach the comfort of the black limousine that was always awaiting him 20 minutes before his appearance.

From behind the shut doors, a suited Miles was mentally preparing himself for his entrance. If he had known that this was the reality of fame, he would’ve never signed the contract in the first place. Though who is he even kidding, anybody would have taken the chance to play for their favourite football team if they could. Hell, he would’ve signed the contract for any team at this point, it was his childhood dream to play in a professional football club - and he was sure that it was many other kids’ dream as well.

Miles couldn’t help but close his eyes for reassurance, begging for his mind to concentrate on anything else but the uproar behind the closed doors that stood just a few metres away from him. Clouded by awe, the obvious first thing that his mind could find to distract himself was you. Lord, he even had to run a hand down his hair to stop his thoughts from running too far. 

You and Miles had been together for 3 years now, that was 2 years before he got signed in the team, and one year into his famous days. Sometimes he’d wake up and raise his head towards the sky to utter a prayer, thanking a god that he didn’t believe in for having you stay by his side despite the ups and downs. 

Miles walked towards the nearest body mirror, the heels of his shoes clicking against the tiled floor as he did so. He made sure to check himself out one last time to see if he looked presentable, he sure as hell wasn’t about to leave the building with a crumpled suit, that wouldn’t look good on the photos now would it?

As Miles neared the exit again, a familiar tune caught his attention from beyond the closed doors. A melody that he could recognize from millions of others, one that he’d stay up relistening to with you past midnight as you both failed to fall asleep. The hypnotising voice that would fill his playlist beyond the never ending lists of rap songs, Rema.  

Miles shut his eyes for a split second, reliving all the singing and laughing-filled moments shared between the both of you as this song played in the background. Taking a final deep breath, Miles finally grounded himself enough to push past the doors. It didn’t even take a millisecond for the roaring of fangirls to erupt, and his foot had yet to even step ground on the outside of the building. 

The camera flashes didn’t wait for him either, blinding him before he even had the chance to step foot on the carpet. Miles would beg to accept that he was used to it now, he’d love to say that he had gotten used to it now after a year of living through it. Though he’d be a liar to admit so, and everything just feels so overwhelming. 

Nevertheless, the striking smile on his face never faltered, and he looked cunning to the very eye. He stood there unmoving for a couple of seconds, letting the cameras capture every good angle of his before they swarm him on the carpet. Miles can’t help his eyes from trailing into the crowd. The very same brown iris widening at the sight, unable to help the deep chuckle that escapes within him. 

A swarm of women, including a couple of men, yelling at his name. Some of them have hefty signs that are raised up for him to see, and he laughs at the outrageous things that are written on them. Their confidence blows at Miles, how in hell can anyone go out in public while holding a sign filled with such filth. It makes him shiver at the fact that those things are written about him, but a warm smile makes way to his face as he skims through the “I Love You” ones. 

He too, loves his fans as much as they adore him. Even through the rather explicit messages that they leave him, he loves them throughout. Beyond the hate that he inevitably received after becoming a public face, Miles must admit that the love is much rewarding. It soothes a piece of his heart that has been tainted by the stress of being a footballer, and it’s even better when he catches children looking up to him with a miniature version of his jersey on. It envelopes his heart with a warmth that he can’t even grasp. 

A sudden movement strays from the others, and it catches Miles' attention. If it wasn’t for the blinding flashes of the paparazzi and the thousands of screeching fans, he would’ve definitely noticed the limousine waiting for him at the end of the line, but he feels his heart stammer as the driver delicately opens the back door. 

Sure, on the outside, Miles’ may resemble a stoic guy. His resting bitch face does his kind heart little justice, and the two fine braids that accompany his fade just boosts his intimidating look. On the inside, Miles feels his heart pounding uncontrollably at the sight of you waiting in the ride for him. You’re  seated at the other side of the open door, keeping a place for him besides you. 

A small smile rises on Miles' face, and a wicked idea brews in the back of his head. He walks a bit faster towards his car, confusing the cameramen and the people that are throwing themselves above the bars just to get a touch of this man. However, when he reaches the car, you’re shocked when he motions for you to grab onto his hand.

Sure, yours and Miles’ relationship was never kept at bay from anyone. You’d been with him since before his fame, and he’d be a loser to keep you in the dark now that he was famous, with your consent of course. It wasn’t unusual that Miles’ would often get questions about you during interviews, and you’d often find yourself smiling at the TV as you watched him answer them with pride. 

Though this was different. You’d never accompanied him out to events, yet alone on a carpet walk. It had nothing to do with Miles but all with you, you weren't all the shy on a usual, but  almost afraid of the camera’s. You’d seen the way they’d flash attack your boyfriend from behind the closed car windows, and sometimes you feared that they’d end up snapping a shitty picture of you, post it and then you’d get burnt on the internet.

The web wasn’t a nice place and you knew it, plus with the thousands and jealousy-infected women out there, you just knew that the things they’d say were going to be more than nasty. Though as you watched Miles’ ‘there’s no pressure’ smile and his soft hand reaching out to you, you decided to push those fears away. 

“Hey ma,” Miles spoke softly to you, the charm in his voice unavoidable as he stared straight into your eyes. It was hard to only stare into those eyes of yours, because once Miles had helped you out of the car, he couldn’t help but notice just how stunning you were on this night. Not that you weren't usually eye-catching, he believed that you were the most beautiful woman to ever grace this earth, though something about this newfound confidence just made you so much more attractive.

“hey..” You were clad in a skintight, dark blue dress that had been gifted to you by none other than Miles. He’d smooth talk you through the “here’s a beautiful dress for a beautiful girl”, in all of his sap. The opera gloves were just as dark as the dress, and the light reflecting off of it gave the blue colour its stunning shine. Miles was enamoured by you, his brown iris unable to leave your form as you stood on your Smiling Melody platform heels. 

Miles loves everything about this moment, from the way you dressed so chique despite your sole aim tonight being to pick up Miles from here before dipping back home. He loved how extra you were, always urging to be the best dressed even if it was for a supermarket trip. Miles loved how that shy smile of yours never left your face as you continued to stare at him. 

The chorus of cheers from behind the both of you broke you out of your trance, and finally, you collected the courage to turn around and face everyone. Miles’ warm palm found a home within your lower back, and the comforting presence of it was enough to ground you. You knew that he was looking at you with that lovesick expression of his, you didn’t even need to glance up at him to be sure. 

The middle of the carpet found you well, and an unfamiliar feeling surged in your chest at the sight of so many people. So many cameras and so many eyes fixed towards you, like your place didn’t belong next to your boyfriend that stood right besides you. Though you tried to keep the thoughts at bay, there were too many things to look at and too many things to concentrate on. It was overwhelming. 

But through your concerns, Miles just knew how to appease your thoughts. 

Ending the night with Miles kissing you before the very cameras was not how you had expected things to go. In fact, you were sure that he’d angled the both of you to face them, instead of trying to shy away. He didn’t want to hide you, and he wasn’t. The excessively loud roar that broke the crowd once more now fell pridefully to his ears. 

He wanted to show you off to the world, show these people around the  globe that they stood no chance besides you. He wanted the images to hit the news, be the main title of next week's People magazine. Miles’ wanted nothing more than having these girls holding up those outrageous signs to go back home with disappointment swarming their chests as they realise that he’ll only ever be with you, as mean as it sounds. 

You didn’t either expect the night ending up with you and Miles unable to keep your hands off of each other during the ride back home, him whispering all sorts of blarney talk into your ears as you gripped onto his shoulders for dear life, but that’d be a magazine-cover drama for another week. 

For now, you’d enjoy your giggle-filled ride back home as you both unceasingly requested for the chauffeur to replay the previous song. And amidst his annoyance, he had no other choice than to bother each time the song ended to press backwards on the limousine’s tactile screen. The music was a little too loud for his taste, but that’d be something that you could care about tomorrow morning. For now, you’d be too busy enjoying the tunes of Rema’s Charm with Miles to bother about anything else. 

-

IK there’s not much actual footballer!miles but this is just some sort of intro to the AU, if i choose to continue it…

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #footballer!miles morales #footballer!miles #miles morales fluff #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales x you #atspv

[notjustjavierpena]

Wake

A/N: Finally another part of my darksugardaddy!joel. This has been sitting in my WIPs for a while, and I’m so pleased with how it turned out. Be kind to me as I haven’t written in a while and I feel terrible about starving you all of content.

Summary: Joel comes home to fuck your lights out. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, dub-con with non-con elements, painful and rough sex, p in v sex, choking, passing out, degradation, abusive behavior, creampie, dirty talk, no aftercare, sugar daddy, daddy kink

Word count: 2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50908876

Wake

It’s a late afternoon when you come to a realization; you don’t love Joel Miller, and you don’t think you could ever love Joel Miller. He is everything that you’ve been taught to hate if you want to believe in fairytales. Your parents would disapprove of him so immediately that you’d be terrified of them cutting you off from them if they knew of his existence.

You’ve never had a man be this rough with you, and only occasionally stroking your hair in apology afterward, but you suppose that the copious amounts of money spent on you - clothes that feel like armor around regular men and expensive bottles of wine that might as well have been potions designed to make you insane - is enough to make up for any unpleasantries within what you don’t dare call a relationship. 

You don’t love him but you can’t hate him. Not in a way that any other person would. How else would you surround yourself with pretty things? You’re no good at anything else than being what he needs.

Whenever he has had a bad day, you know the roughness will increase. It always starts the same; with a slam of the mansion door and a hungry search for you through the obnoxiously large building. He calls for you and you don’t dare not to answer, and in the end, he finds you in the extravagant living room - one of many - with its gold-rimmed glass tables and Chesterfield couches. You’ve been reading a book, but you put it down the second he enters and don’t even bother asking to read to the next full stop. 

“There you are,” he almost heaves for breath with exhaustion from his anger. He isn’t angry at you - you know this - but still, you find yourself treading lightly when his voice is so cold that the living room seems to drop a few degrees in temperature and causing your nipples to harden at the sudden change.

Then, as part of your ritual, he gets a thick wad of bills from the inside pocket of his suit and places it on the nearest surface. A bank transfer won’t do in these situations. He needs something physical, something he can hold in his hand and flash before you, and you know that he wants you to fall to your knees and beg for the warmth and dirtiness of the printed bills against your clean skin.

You’re just about to when he interrupts you.

“There will be more when you wake,” he promises, voice almost too quiet and restrained. Like he is saving his strength. 

You notice his choice of words; when you wake.

Wake.

You gulp. You’ll have to take it in stride. You’ll have to play the part.

You rise from your seat and he watches you patiently. You say nothing as you lower yourself onto the glass table and then lie down on your back, knowing it can hold because Joel would never buy a surface that he couldn’t have you on. 

You’ve learned not to wear anything too difficult to get out of, so it takes little time for you to pull off your skirt. Though you struggle a bit with your underwear since they’re already damp, sticking to the outline of your cunt and the sight makes Joel smirk like the Devil. Curse him, you think, for knowing that you can barely function when he looms over you like a giant, like a dangerous predator that hasn’t tasted blood for weeks. 

When you manage to maneuver your panties down your thighs, he twitches with impatience and curls his whole fist around the cotton fabric. He yanks them down and watches them twist into themselves as he pulls them down over the length of your legs and off your feet. 

They catch on your heels for the tiniest second. He gracefully undoes the ankle straps of them and drops each one onto the floor after taking it off. The anticipation is killing you, toying with your ability to breathe properly and even moreso at the humiliation of only wearing your top now. 

“Pull it down,” he commands, gesturing to it. You start to yank at the bottom to pull it over your head but he growls, “Down. Not off, stupid bitch.”

Oh. 

You pull the neckline down to settle it underneath your breasts, feeling like something on display with the way that Joel takes you in. His cock strains against the front of his pants, his breath uneven, when he cups both of your tits in his hands and pushes them roughly together. His thumbs skim over your hardened nipples, causing you to moan and he responds by pinching them instead until the moan transforms into a whimper.

“I’m gonna fuck you until your pretty little lights go out,” he mutters, pinches, and then tugs a bit on your nipples until you move involuntarily, “Lie still. Don’t give me any shit.”

He takes a step back, his gaze pinning you down whilst he undoes his belt. You refrain from shivering in case he tells you off once more, but you’re so close to doing it when you hear the noise of his zipper. A gush of wetness seeps from you, possibly smearing the glass surface that you are lying on. 

“Please,” you say pathetically.

“Please what?” He asks as if he doesn’t care.

“Daddy,” you present your cunt for him by opening your legs and Joel instinctively looks at your quivering slit, “Please fuck me.”

Joel steps between your legs, using his knees to push them even further apart. He towers over you, cock standing impressively into the air after he has shoved his pants and underwear down his thighs. He tuts at the desperate look in your eyes, “I barely make it through the front door before you’re spreading your legs for me.”

You want to argue that he was the one who sought you out, but he might leave you with a throbbing cunt if you have the audacity to play smart with him, so instead you just nod with a breathless ‘yes’.

He places one knee on the coffee table, following up with scooping a hand underneath the small of your back to align your lower pelvises. His grip is so strong, his bare skin, the amount you are allowed to feel, burns against your own. Like King Midas, his touch enriches you, turns you into something as valuable as gold. 

His cock breaches your tight cunt moments after. He watches you intently as your eyes screw shut with the inevitable sting that it brings due to his generous girth. He seats himself to the hilt inside of you and reaches something you didn’t even know a man could get to when he presses his hand into the spot where it rests on your back. 

“Good girl,” he praises with a strained moan, “How do you feel?”

“Full,” you say shakily and teasingly clench around him. 

He takes in a sharp breath, and before you know it, his free hand has come down on your right breast in a harsh slap. He adds to it by palming your throat afterward, tightly gripping it when you try to squeeze around his length again after not having been given time to react to the consequence of doing it the first time. You smirk up at him and he nearly loses his mind. 

“God, you just want it bad, don’t you, little girl?” His hips draw back and he keeps you waiting for the briefest second before slamming them forward again. The force behind his thrusts is borderline painful, but the way his hand arches your back makes his cockhead pound your front wall. 

The moans you let out are barely there, high-pitched or silent with the way he knocks all wind out of you whilst simultaneously cutting off oxygenated blood to your brain.

He fucks you like an animal, all groans and grunts, sweat dripping from his brow because he is too hungry for dominance to undress. He loves being able to quickly flee the scene afterward and loves leaving you with no clothes on so you cannot follow him. 

But it’s not the amount of clothes that he wears compared to you that gets you close to the edge. It is the fact that nothing around you feels real except for him. Even you don’t feel real but rather closer to an inanimate object that only comes alive because of the dark eyes that penetrate your own. 

You’ve known this fact for a while. Despite the love not being there, you know that after this arrangement has started - you don’t know what else to call it - his mere looking at you is what makes you materialize. 

Your fingers come up to curl around his wrist. You cannot breathe and it fucking hurts, only dulled by the way that your cunt starts to flutter with how close he has gotten you to the edge. You hadn’t expected him to make you come. 

With wide eyes, you look up at him in an attempt to tell him what is going on. He holds your gaze, pleased with himself as he drives into you, “I know, little girl, don’t have to tell me, I can feel you.” 

You don’t have the guts to fight his harsh hand. You take it with tears forming in your eyes and the feeling of your pulse pounding in your neck where it’s fighting to get past his bruising grip. 

“Say it, say that you love me, that you’re nothing without me,” he commands, but when you try to speak it is nothing but a squeak. He has his hand so tightly around your windpipe that you cannot get a word past your lips, drooling and shaking underneath his lack of mercy as your tongue feels too big for your mouth. He grins maniacally down at you as your vision blurs around the edges, “Made you speechless, did I? You filthy whore.”

You have always been familiar with the term putting someone’s lights out, but you’ve never understood the true meaning until Joel came into your life. You come hard, unfolding beneath his touch, with tears on your cheeks - and then there’s nothing.

Like a child falling asleep in a car seat, you have been carried up the stairs and into your bedroom. You sit up in your comfy bed and try to piece together how you have gotten here, and when you realize, it is because of your underwear and skirt messily and hurriedly sitting around your ankles. 

You tug your bottom garments up again. There is something sticky between your legs, and you know, immediately. what it is when you start to shift your legs and are hit with soreness. Everything hurts, but nothing seems to be broken or damaged. 

You glance to your right and spot the stack of bills that Joel had flashed earlier. It is neatly placed on the edge of the table along with a glass of water and some aspirin. You’ll take them soon, need to feel the ache a little while longer.

Instead of doing what is most comfortable (like taking the damn pills), you reach for the money instead. A delusional person would argue that they still feel warm, the temperature somewhere between newly printed and body heat. You take a few of them in your hand, and then you press them against your skin. The fact that you find it soothing is pathetic.

The wonder and innocence of being carried upstairs as a kid doesn’t translate into adulthood, you think, and then you lay down to fall into a deep sleep.

.

.

.

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#pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing #sugardaddy!joel

[yeonjuns-beanie]

The Black Cat

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, friends to lovers?, soft dom!eddie (reader and eddie tease each other but they actually are in love with each other and hate it), hair pulling, sex on someone else’s bed, slight hand kink, begging, alcohol consumption, think that’s it

summary: you and eddie are practically in love with each other, but don’t dare admit it. When the two of you run into each other at steve’s halloween party and he catches a glimpse of your costume, the dams holding back your guys’ pride, break. 

Eddie x female reader

a/n: once again the wip beats my ass by taking weeks to finish. in honor of october, we have a halloween fic! i hope whoever comes across this enjoys it. And as always, requests n asks are open rn! ~ nero

Word count: 4.8k

It was finally your favorite time of year. Ever since the end of August, you’d been preparing for a moment like this to arise. You had finally gathered all of the materials for your costume and you couldn’t wait to wear it. As you stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to get your makeup as accurate as possible, you gently dipped your paintbrush into the small dollop of paint you laid out on a paper towel. 

You glanced down at your comic book one last time before committing the mask to memory and fully trusted your process. Dragging the pointed, wet, smooth brush across your cheeks and circling your eyeballs, you made the most challenging pass going across the bridge of your nose. As you made the pass to the other side of your face, you let out the breath you'd been holding since the moment the brush touched your face. 

Completing the same look on the other side of your face, you made sure that both sides were even and looked like a mask. Stepping back, you glanced over your appearance in search of any minor flaws that you could fix before you left the bathroom for good. Filling out the outer edges of the mask you washed the brush off in the sink and threw away the towel with the paint on it. You touched up your eye makeup a bit more before you were finally satisfied with your outcome. 

Turning the light out in the bathroom, you walked down the hallway to your bedroom. Laying on your bed was the latex jumpsuit that you had tailored with white fur around the collar and up the forearm of the sleeves. You changed into a no-show thong, wanting the least amount of your undergarments to be visible while you were in the suit. Strapping yourself in the biggest push-up bra you had, you situated your boobs so that they were on the brink of spilling out of the cup. 

Walking back to the latex suit, you slithered your body into the material, wiggling the fabric over your thick thighs and regrettably over your ass. Something that you failed to think about before deciding your costume of the year. As you bounced into the suit, you finally got it over the thickest part of your body and relaxed as you pulled your arms through the sleeves. 

Zipping up the front of the suit, you turned to look in the mirror. 

“This has to be my best one yet.” 

You were more than satisfied. The latex hugged your curves in all the right places, showing off every beautiful asset you had to offer. The material was suffocating your tits but you couldn’t care less. The spillage of your cleavage being just enough. As you grabbed your heeled boots, you ran back into the bathroom to touch up your lipstick and you went downstairs. 

Sitting on the last few steps, you pulled your boots up your calves, carefully zipping them up to make sure to not catch any of the suit. As you stood up your mom came from around the corner, eyes widening at your appearance. 

“Y/n! Wow, honey, I think this has to be your best costume yet.” 

“Thanks, mom.”

“Seriously, you look stunning. Is that Eddie boy gonna be there?” 

Your jaw dropped and you slowly turned your head to look at her again. You dramatically called out to her

“Moomm! I don’t wanna think about him.” 

“I don’t know why you don’t just go up to him. You’ve been crushing on him since high school and somehow he hasn’t caught up yet.” 

You sighed, mulling over the time you missed out on. 

“Maybe he just doesn’t like me.”

“I don’t think that’s it. I think the two of you jump at each others throats too much that that now has become the language you guys flirt with. But, Jesus, y’all are dense.”

Your mom chuckled, having the time of her life picking on you about how long you’ve dragged out this crush of yours. It had to have been one of her favorite pastimes. While you spoke, you finished packing what you needed in your clutch and sighed once more trying to rid yourself of all your anxieties. Before you could announce your leave, your mom spoke up again. 

“And! If he does happen to be there, there’s no way he’s gonna be able to keep his eyes off of you. Use that to your advantage and maybe live a little! Play into the character you're dressed as and for once in your life, flirt!” 

You pressed out a small smile and giggled through your nose. You shook your head knowing that your mom was right. Holding it in wasn’t gonna do you any favors. 

“Now don’t let me hold you up, have fun and be safe. If you drink just crash there I don’t wanna have to find you on the morning news.” 

“I will, mom. See you later.”

As you walked out of the house, the echo of your heels followed you closely behind. Once situated in your car, you reached over into your glove box and pulled out your CD case. Flipping through the iridescent discs, you found one that you felt fit the mood of the evening. You started the car, slipped the disc through the reader and waited for the music to begin flooding your speakers. 

Before you backed out of the driveway, you skipped to your favorite song. The opening guitar riff immediately threw a smile on your face and as Danny Elfman’s voice rang through your car you began your drive singing along to the song. 

“I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go.” 

Steve’s house wasn’t far from yours so you enjoyed the drive down there. With the windows rolled down and the air winding through your hair, you felt a certain type of new life breathe through you. You ran over the thought of Eddie being there and as much as you claimed to hate him, having him tease you every chance he got kinda made you feel butterflies. Deep down you knew you wanted more, you were just weary about your approach to the situation. 

“Walking with a dead man over my shoulder!” 

You sped around a few corners, screaming the lyrics to Dead Man’s Party like no one else was around in the world to hear you. Driving through the neighborhood, you finally reached Steve’s house. There were cars littered in front of his house and in the surrounding area. The music was vibrating out through the walls of the house and you were more than excited to step inside. 

Before exiting your car, you checked yourself in your car mirror one last time. You fluffed your hair, making sure that there were no pieces looking unnecessarily flat and you touched up your lipstick. Stepping out of your car, you locked the door and began the trek up to the front door. As you walked through his driveway you noticed a particularly familiar van parked up front. Your stomach dropped to the pavement, and a slight bang of fear was quickly quelled by panicked excitement. Too many emotions were present but you wanted him to see you like this. It had to happen.

Ringing and knocking on the door, you swang your body back and forth waiting for someone to answer. You were about to reach for the doorbell one more time but the door opened. Standing there was Steve, dressed as a zombie, his lopsided smile turning into a full grin. Behind him you noticed a mop of brown hair dangling a lollipop over Steve’s hair. 

“C’mon Harrington, I know you wanna try it.” 

The long mullet came into full view and you realized it was your man of the hour. Steve moved his body to the side to let you in while trying to swat Eddie’s hand away. You caught a glimpse of the the lollipop and noticed something stuck in the middle of it. 

“Munson, get the fuckin bug pop away from me.” 

Eddie flicked his eyes over to you getting ready to make you his next victim. Smiling wickedly at you and showcasing his fangs. The tips of them being painted red for added effect. 

When his body turned toward you fully, his eyes widened and took you in like he never had before. If it was cartoon, his eyes would’ve flown out of his head as he jumped in the air. He tried his best to cover his slip up but you caught every face he made and for the sake of his integrity, decided to keep your teasing at bay. 

You shut the door behind you and came a little closer to Eddie slyly showing yourself off to him. You bent down, staring at the lollipop to see what kind of bug was encased inside the hardened sugar. Stretching back up, you caught Eddie’s eyes follow your body up. Steve laughed out loud and you whipped your head toward him. 

“God damn, Munson! Your eyes are are about to pop out of your head!”

Eddie’s head turned towards Steve shooting him a warning glare that you couldn’t see behind his mane of hair. Steve motioned for all of you to walk down the hallway and into the mainroom of the house where all the festivities were taking place. You trailed behind the two of them keeping your eye on Eddie and the playful hits taking place between the two. Stopping in the kitchen, you noticed a tub of red liquid with different fruit slices littered throughout. 

You pushed through the two boys and grabbed one of red solo cups stacked on the side fo the bin. Filling your cup up to the brim, you took a chug of the liquid downing at least half the cup before looking back and Steve and Eddie. 

“God damn, that is strong! Who made that?”

Steve laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“That would be me. Yeah, I uh pretty much just had this geriatric here grab every clear bottle he saw.” 

Eddie slowly turned to Steve, eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.

“Geriatric? I’ve only got a year and a half on you, dude.”

“All of that is true, but considering you and y/n are the only ones who can legally buy this shit, geriatric it is. If we get one more of you guys in here it’ll be bordering a nursing home.”

You laughed, your arm reaching across the counter to hit Steve in his arm. 

“Dude, shut up. I’m not even that old.”

“I don’t know y/n, you’re inching on cougar territory.”

You rolled your eyes, amused by his antics. Letting your laugh settle, you grabbed a slice of fruit from your cup and took a bite. As you pulled the fruit away from your mouth, a bit of the liquor dripped off and rolled down the valley of your breasts. Steve was quick to turn around and grab a paper towel for you. As you set your cup down on the counter, you missed the way Eddie was gawking at you. What you also didn’t catch was the warning hit Steve gave Eddie before your eyes rolled back up to face them. 

“I’m lucky that didn’t land on my fur.” 

Steve was rolling his lips around his teeth and found this to be the perfect opportunity to leave you and Eddie alone. If neither one of you were going to make a move then he was gonna throw you two in a situation where you couldn’t help but be around each other. 

“I’m gonna go look for Robin real quick. I told her I’d give her one of the weird suckers this nut kept waving around in my face. I’ll be back”

Grabbing the lollipop from off the counter, Steve faded into the crowd of people in his house and you and Eddie were left alone in the kitchen. You had a quick memory of your mom telling you to flirt, but you didn’t wanna make it obvious. So you went to what you know best. 

“Nice costume you got there. It’s almost like it’s your regular clothes.”

Eddie looked at you cocking his head, less than amused by your comment. 

“Well actually, if you took the time to actually watch The Lost Boys like I told you, you would see that I’m perfectly in character. Fangs and all.”

This was an easy open for you, you just had to go for it. You prayed that you wouldn’t stumble over you words because you knew he would never let you live it down. Almost out of character for you, the words left your mouth smoothly. 

“Well maybe you should have me over and we’ll watch it together. ‘Cause you know I’m not gonna watch it on my own.” 

He laughed, silently thanking you for your forwardness. 

“Why are you like that, huh? Gotta be forced into doing shit. Is that a kink or soemthing for ya?” 

You looked at him with raised eyebrows and gazed at him out the side of your eye, hoping that he got the hint you were giving him. Eddie looked back at you with his eyes widened, a knowing look overcoming his features. You back pedaled trying to lighten the weight of the situation, not entirely prepared for the sexual banter.

“I’m just playing…maybe.”

“Maybe, huh? Well what if you’re not playing, then what?” 

You toyed with the rim of your cup debating how you were going to lead this conversation down the road you’ve been dreaming of. Looking up at him through your lashes, you bit the corner of your lip. 

“I was hoping you’d show me.” 

The room became suffocatingly small and the music was muffled. All you could see was Eddie and all you could hear was your heart rate and his breath speeding up.

“Me?”

Eddie’s voice pitched up, confusion clear in his tone. He couldn’t believe that you of all people wanted him. Sure, he had his crush on you but never did he think the feeling would be reciprocated. You nodded, your eyes doe-like and soft. His eyes raked over your form one last time before his hand laid over your own, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“Shall we find an empty room and I can show what it’s like to take a vampire to bed.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows at you and suddenly you were wondering why you dreaded making this moment a reality for so long. Why you feared what the outcome would be when subconsciously you already knew. One of you just needed to play into the other because God knows, the two of you were unfathomably dense. A smile brighter than the sun lit up your face and rubbed off on Eddie, grinning at you before grabbing your hand and leading you towards the upstairs. 

Scanning the doors upstairs, you both were looking for one that was open. A straight shot down the hall, you saw a room with the door wide open. You followed Eddie trying your best to keep your footsteps quick and quiet in fear of someone hearing your heels echo to the downstairs. 

Once in the doorway of the room, you were relieved to find a bed in there. The room was mostly dark but you made out the silhouette of a lamp on top of one of the pieces of furniture in the room. Flicking it on you turned around only to find Eddie inches away from your face. 

Eddie grabbed your hand and led you toward the bed, twirling your bodies around so that your legs hit the back of the bed first. As your body flopped onto the mattress, you scooted yourself back so that Eddie was forced to crawl to you, hover over you. Looking up at him, you were searching his eyes for any change in emotion or hesitation. When you found none, you found your voice. 

“Kiss me, please?” 

When his lips found yours, fireworks of adoration and lust exploded in your chest and between your legs. Your breathing became more labored and your kiss more greedy. You traced your tongue across his bottom lip and he granted you permission instantly. As your tongues battled for dominance you fisted at his hair trying to bring him closer to you. 

Your grip was unexpected and squeezed a moan out of Eddie. You rolled your hips in response, the vibrations of his muffled moan going straight to your core. You could feel Eddie’s slight embarrassment at the noise that came out of him as he tried to pull away and ramble about it. 

“I, uh, I don’t know why that-“

“-Don’t apologize, that was so hot.” 

“Really?” 

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Eddie paused before a smile cracked his face. 

“On multiple occasions, yes. But you said it was for my benefit or sake of surprise-“

You slapped his arm rolling your eyes at him. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. Hey, what would you do if I bit you? Ya know, like a real vampire.”

You swallowed a smile and rolled your tongue over your teeth debating on if you’d give him the truthful answer. Quickly, deciding that you would. 

“Honestly, I’d prolly be more turned on.”

Eddie laughed at you before attacking at your neck, sucking small hickies into your skin. Muffled, he spoke against your neck.

“God you really are a freak.” 

“Only for you Munson.” 

Eddie looked at you again, his eyes and hair wild as he processed your response. Pouncing on your lips again, his hands began to wander your body. Paying special attention to the areas that were a tad bit thicker. His ring clad fingers squeezing at the fat of your thighs and feeling your breasts through your bodysuit. Your hands traveled down his body and found haven on the crotch of his jeans. 

Palming him through the fabric an airy moan left his mouth. 

“Shit y/n.” 

Suddenly the lust you were feeling was too much to bear and you needed to feel the rest of him. You needed to see the rest of him. 

“Can I suck you off?”

“Wha?”

“Please, can I suck you off? I wanna feel you in my mouth.” 

“Fuckin shit, y/n, don’t beg. I’m gonna bust in my pants.” 

You looked up at him still waiting for his verbal go ahead. 

“I wanna feel you too, princess. Go ahead.”

You both moved so that Eddie’s back was now on the mattress. Snaking down his body, you kept eye contact until you met the waistband of his jeans. Toying with the button, you slowly unbuckled his belt and he lifted his hips so that you could drag the fabric of his jeans and underwear down. 

His cock, strained and hard, flopped against his stomach. You looked up at him and he stared back at you, a shaky breath leaving his throat. Looking back at his cock, you admired him for a second. He was thick and decently sized and for a moment you wondered how were you going to fit him all in your mouth. 

Flattening your tongue against his base, you dragged up to his tip giving a few kitten licks across his slit. Eddie’s head rolled back and a low groan escaped his throat. Gathering spit in your mouth, you spat a slow wad of spit onto the tip of his cock and took half of him in your mouth. The other half being handled by your hand. 

Your other hand slowly made its way up to his balls, massaging them slowly. 

“Y/n, baby. Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Fuck!” 

The extra stimulation had Eddie writhing against the sheets. You started to bob your head faster on his cock slowly taking the rest of him in your mouth. Deep throating him, your nose was tickled by his patch of hair and his moans were leaving him more frequently. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby. Oh my fuckin god.  Suck my cock so well, sweetheart.” 

The praise took a detour to your cunt and you were pulsing around nothing. You could feel your slick against your folds as your muscles contracted and released. You felt his cock begin to twitch in your mouth so you increase your pace once more, incorporating your hand again so that your tongue could focus on his tip. 

Swirling your tongue around his head. Eddie’s hand was fisting the duvet trying to gain his composure. He couldn’t though. He knew that if you kept going the way that you were he was going to cum in your mouth and he had plans of filling you up elsewhere. 

“Y/n, baby. Baby, stop.” 

You pulled off of him and looked up at him, worry apparent in your eyes. 

“Sweetheart, everything’s fine, I just wanna fill you up somewhere else…”

A pang of intoxicating zeal echoed in your core making you want to grind against something, anything, and suddenly your suit was unbearably tight. Strangling you from what you needed and you needed to feel every part of him all at once. You crawled back up his body to give him a burning kiss. Both of your breaths were heavy out of the nose, and your teeth were biting into his lip as you pulled away from him. 

Standing at the end of the bed, you stared him down as you began to peel yourself out of your boots and your bodysuit followed. You brought your arms around to the clasp of your bra and let it fall to the floor. Eddie had messily thrown his clothing to the floor, trying to not miss the show you were putting on for him but also to not be stuck in his many layers of fabric. 

Eddie got up from the bed and walked in front of you, his erection pressing against your thigh. His hands wandered your body again and the coolness of his rings created another layer of electricity between the both of you. He pushed you back down on the bed and pulled your underwear down your legs. The air creating an alarming coolness from how wet you were. Eddie crawled back over you and his hand found its way between your lips. 

You were so sensitive that the slight touch of his fingers against your clit made your body and cunt jolt. Eddie smirked, amused with your reaction. 

“All this…just for me? Just from sucking me off?”

You were ready to will yourself to whatever he said. Right now you needed and wanted nothing else but Eddie. You needed to feel him on you and inside of you. You couldn’t bare not having him. 

“Yes, fuck! Eddie I just want you so bad. I’ve needed you, this, for so long now.” 

You wrapped your hands around his shoulders, bracing yourself on him and looked him in the eyes. 

“Please, Eddie. I need you. Fuck me, please, Eddie.”

“What I’d say sweetheart, you don’t have to beg me. I’m gonna give you what you want.” 

Eddie placed another kiss on your lips before rolling his cock between your swollen, sensitive lips. You grinded into him, needing some type of friction to expunge the throbbing ache you were feeling. 

“I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”

You nodded, biting your lip. When Eddie slipped his cock into your warm, seraphic walls, you swore you felt the seventh heaven. A moan so choked and garbled left your throat and the stretch you were feeling had you digging your nails into his pale back. Eddie was holding still, letting you adjust to his size, but you couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Eddie…move. Oh my god, move.”

“Alright, alright, baby.”

Eddie chuckled before finally moving his hips. He moved slow at first allowing you to really feel the stretch of him inside your walls. You moaned out as you clenched around him, the feeling of him finally inside of you completely euphoric. You threw your head back against the bed, back arching into the feeling. You panted out as you gripped at Eddie’s skin again. 

“Faster, please go faster. Fuck!”

Immediately he reacted. His hips ramming into you at a speed that had you feeling every inch of him. The tip of his cock was kissing your cervix and had you writhing against the sheets, desperate for something to cling onto besides Eddie. You wrapped your hand around the back of Eddie’s neck so that you could kiss him again. His mouth swallowed your moans only until he moved down your jawline and neck. An assault that you couldn’t have wanted more. You squeezed around him rapidly, feeling your climax on the horizon. 

“Oh, you like that don’t you? Am I making you feel good princess?”

“Yes, yes, yes, Eddie, fuck! You’re making me feel so~ahh!”

Eddie rolled his thumb on your delicate rosebud and pushed you even closer to your edge. He hovered over you like predator on prey, but his eyes still held their softness. His hair hung on the sides of his face slightly curtaining your own as he got closer to you. 

“C’mon. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

You couldn’t help the reaction your body had to him calling you a good girl. Your cunt fluttered around his cock, squeezing him in the most delicate of ways. He cocked his eyebrow, surprised and simultaneously amused by the effect he had on you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you rolled your face to the pillows underneath you. 

“Y/n, baby, look at me.”

His voice was slightly firm but still his tone was still engulfed in salacity. You tried to look at him but you felt the heat build up and your head dropped again. 

“You wanna be my good girl right, y/n? Then you’re gonna have to look at me. I want you to look at me while you cum.”

“Eddie! Fuck, okay okay.”

You found the strength within you to look at him, your eyes rolling back occasionally at the feeling of your orgasm coming. Your eyebrows furrowed as your breath quickened and you felt the warmth in your core turn into an insatiable burning. 

“Eddie, Eddie, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” 

“Me too sweetheart. Shit, where do you want it?”

“I wanna feel all of you.”

Eddie looked at you, a moment of disbelief running across his features. 

“I-Inside?”

“Yes, please, Eddie. I wanna feel you fill me up. I’m on the pill just, please.”

“Fuck, baby. You love to beg don’t ya? Love being good for me~ holy shit!”

Your walls clenched around him your orgasm overtaking your whole body. You were sure your moans could’ve been heard over the music and chatter happening on the floor below you. You couldn’t hold back, Eddie made everything feel so good. Coupled with the strained moans and groans that escaped his own mouth, you were milking him of all that we was worth. He grabbed your face by the chin before kissing you again, forcing you to swallow his moans. 

As you both finally came down from your high, Eddie looked at you with stars in his eyes. You felt nothing but the overwhelming urge to keep kissing him and never let him go from this moment. You pecked his lips multiple times and he chuckled pulling away from you. He moved to pull out of you but you stopped him. 

“Wait. Don’t pull out yet.”

You rolled the two of you over so that you were on top now, his cock still semi hard inside of you. 

“I still wanna feel you.”

“Oh, you’re a dirty little girl.” 

You pouted and groaned at his observation of you.  

“Don’t-”

You were cut off by the sound of the door coming out of it’s lock and the hinges squeaking. You turned around only to be met with Steve’s eyes and his hand coming up shield his eyes. 

“In my room?! Seriously guys? You guys will be washing my sheets before you leave.”

Steve slammed the door shut leaving you and Eddie alone with your giggles about the situation. Eddie’s arms laid over his eyes as he laughed again. 

“I can’t believe we fucked on Harrington’s bed. Kinda feel bad…eh, I’ll have to thank him later cause now I have you.” 

“Shut up, Munson.”

You laughed as you placed your palms on his chest. He grabbed your wrists and slowly rubbed up and down your arms. Admiring your beauty once again as he had done numerous times before. 

“Wanna go get dinner tomorrow night? So I can treat you properly.”

“Dinner, huh?”

“Absolutely. Gotta treat my girl right.”

My girl.

My girl. 

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine

[buckyalpine]

Fic idea - Bucky’s family & time travel

You know how I keep proposing ideas, then adding it to my wips and then I stare at it while it stares at me. Heres another. I'm so sorry. Swear this will end in fluff, you'll just suffer in between. So imagine the most angstiest angst where Bucky gets married and has a child with his sweetheart before he’s sent to war. He's loved her his whole life and now they have a little one together; nothing could be more perfect. He promises he'll be back safe and sound with a kiss to her forehead and plenty of kisses for his baby girl.

Until Hydra captures him and turns him into the Winter Soldier. His first mission is to eliminate any familial ties. He doesn't feel anything when he pulls the trigger. He's successful and carries out hundreds of others kills, each searing itself in some part of his brain but he's constantly wiped before he can piece anything together.

But then he's rescued and he has to pick up the broken fragments of his memories and its too much of a fog for him to understand. At the very least he has his best friend by his side again and he's slowly starting to remember.

His first question is about his sweet y/n and his little girl.

His happiness is short-lived when Steve doesn't say anything. Bucky doesn't understand why he avoids his gaze, why he suddenly looks so distraught. No amount of pleading or begging works, his best friend doesn't breathe a word, asking Bucky to please let things be.

To learn to live with the way things were.

He can't do that though. He needs answers. When the team is away on a mission, he find a way to get into his records that SHIELD kept on him, wondering if they ever had anything on file about his life before he was captured. Every single detail about who he was before the war to after is written with details and camera footage.

He doesn't move from where he's seated, a blank expression on his face while everyone returns. Steve approaches Bucky first, worried about why the soldier looked so pale as if he'd aged 10 years in the past 3 days.

"I killed them?" His broken whisper of a voice breaks Steve's heart when he sees the file Bucky was looking at, a picture of him, his little girl on his shoulders and wife all smiling at the camera. The sheet he's clutching onto has their names along with deceased written write across the sheet.

Bucky is inconsolable.

His dreams are no longer about others he has killed. He's flooded with memories of her; the soft ivory dress she wore on their wedding day, the baby pink lace she had on when he undressed her that same night, the scent of her perfume, the sound of her laugh, the kicks of their baby, the sound of her happy squeals when he blew raspberries onto her chubby cheeks.

Those happy memories are quickly replaced with her pleading for him to remember. To just remember at least once.

Jamie, it's me, please, m'your y/n, Bucky, don't-

D-daddy?

Baby, go to your room-Bucky no-

Mama!

Please, not Bella, James, you love her baby, you love us- please remember me-

I-I love you

The pain of Bucky's cries are too much for anyone to handle. They're a different type of sadness. So much so, even Tony's starting to worry when he doesn't see Bucky for days on end. He begs to be put back in cyro, to have his memories wiped, to have his brain fried, anything to forget. He doesn't care about the pain, he just wants it all to end.

Imagine theres a mission that involves time travel. Steve and Sam stand on the platform, ready to enter the portal, setting their timers for a specific date in the past. When Sam catches Steve adding another date without telling him, he quietly adds it on his suit as well, piecing what the Captain plans on doing.

The mission takes a little longer than anticipated. Steve is surprised when Sam is beside him when he travels back to the 40's, the both of them now with a new mission in mind, alternating the future be damned. If they had a chance to give Bucky the life he deserved again, they would do it. Bucky doesn't ask for much. In fact he never asked for anything. He deserved this.

Imagine the shock everyone gets when the portal opens up at the compound and there are now 4 people on the platform. Steve, Sam, a woman and a little girl no older than 2. She's dressed in a simple dotted dress, still wearing an apron around her waist while her baby stays clinging around her, tucking her face into her mommas neck.

Imagine the way Bucky would collapse with her when he sees his family again, crying endlessly being able to hold his wife and child, something he thought he'd lost forever. Everyone gives the little family some privacy while he hugs and kisses them, cuddling them to his chest, still right on the lab floor. Explanations for everything can wait, right now he can't believe he has his angels back.

Imagine the way they'd fall asleep that night, sleeping in bed for once, now that he's reunited with his y/n and his Bella.

imagine the endless love he'd make to her while Bella spends time with her God Fathers, aka all the Avenger men.

Imagine she's pregnant soon after and they can continue being a family in the present, doing all the things they always dreamed of.

Anyway, just a thought.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #marvel angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky x you #marvel fanfics #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fiction #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes

[enhaeven]

— polaroid love | yang jungwon

pairing: jungwon x reader

genre: fluff, romance, high school!au

word count: 1.5k

summary: wherein a series of polaroid pictures may be helping you realize your feelings towards jungwon

warnings: none really, just two mild swear words XD

a/n: i pulled memories from years ago for this but yeah it's been a while lol happy 20th to my baby wonie 🥺, wishing you the best for this milestone of your life 💕

— masterlist & wips — faq & navigation

"take pictures of me"

a high pitched voice alerts you at once, and it's unfortunately too cute for you to ignore each time he asks you that same phrase when you have a polaroid camera in your hands.

at any chance he gets.

you don’t mind it now, already getting used to the times when Jungwon would just come up to you for basically anything. in the past, you used to question why he acts like this towards you when he doesn’t to others. you’ve grown fond of him, his habits rather but that doesn’t mean that you don’t whisk him away each time he’s near you, be it during lunch or after school clubs.

he’s not hard to love really, with the way he cares for someone and how thoughtful he is in everything that he does, it’s no wonder that anyone would immediately fall in love with him easily.

not you, or yet you think. you’re not really sure at this point though your heart does this weird thing whenever he says your name these days. what’s strange is that you’ve known this as a sign since you’ve fallen in love before but you couldn’t figure out why you’ve been resisting it.

it’s definitely a you problem, not his but you don’t know what to do.

.

lunch is the only time where you can do this. developing the pictures from your polaroid which mostly consist of Jungwon posing cutely in each of them. honestly, you’ve been questioning why cause really could’ve deleted them but here you are instead, just because he’s been asking about it.

he was adamant about needing to have his own copies since he loves posting on socials.

and you, for whatever reason eventually complied, even choosing to do it now and here at school of all times.

looking at them one by one right now, you reminisce the times Jungwon made your heart race as you pick each one of the polaroid pictures. your heart races even more which freaks you out again even though you’re alone in this empty classroom so no one’s here to see you like this.

you’re dumb. really dumb for doing your best to not fall in love with him because it’s pointless. no one could blame you really with the amount of immature guys your age but Yang Jungwon’s different.

it’s funny how you’ve only realized it now, though you can’t exactly pinpoint when it started since you may have been feeling something for him without realizing it. this is not even complicated unlike your previous ones and you’re surprisingly loving the vibe of it, the feeling of falling in love.

you must’ve been staring at them intently that you didn’t realize someone was entering the room and sneaking up on you.

“do you finally love me?” the very familiar voice asks behind you and you let out a surprise shriek, getting up from the chair to give some distance from him.

“what the hell!” you’re not really annoyed but more so mortified that he, out of all people caught you at this kind of vulnerable moment. 

“answer the question y/n~” he starts as he leans a bit, tilting his head with a playful smile which you find very adorable.

and now you’re having a hard time suppressing the urge to smile back, hoping your face is not obvious but you already couldn’t look Jungwon in the eye.

"uh, what makes you say that?" you ask, trying to subdue your nerves by talking as calmly as you can as you return your gaze to him, to those very beautiful eyes of his.

eyes that caught yours in the first place.

"you have that look in your eyes..." he tells you with a teasing lilt in his voice, eyes shifting to his polaroid pictures laying on the desk.

what look dammit. is he really gonna make you confess right now—

"it's okay to admit it y/n…” he adds before looking back at you, eyes searching for something, probably a confirmation so you shoot him a glare in return. it’s a facade really to hide your embarrassment but it washed away quickly when you heard him say "i love you back anyways" quietly.

you were so stunned at his sudden declaration that you didn’t even realize he ran away before you could confront him about it.

so silly, you chuckle at his antics.

you’re debating if you should follow him or not but before you can decide, the bell rang so you had to hurry out to not miss the next period.

.

after your last class of the day, you immediately ditch your friends to look for Jungwon. they didn’t mind, not even asking you why though they probably have an inkling already after seeing you being restless at class earlier.

you have to catch Jungwon before he goes home, cause you might not be able to do this after today. fortunately, to your relief he’s still here, sitting by the benches outside with two of his close friends.

approaching their table, you dropped his polaroid pictures without a word which surprised everyone at the table, but not much for Jungwon.

he never thought you’d approach him first because it’s always been the other way around but he should’ve seen it coming when he ran away from you earlier. he wonders why you’re here other than the pictures, it couldn’t be just that, right?

“oh let’s look at these” his younger friend Riki suddenly picks one of the photos, looking at them with an amused smile.

for the first time, Jungwon feels shy because those pictures are specifically for you. he posed cutely in them for the sole purpose of wooing you but Riki’s like a younger brother to him since he only has an older sister so he doesn’t really mind. he met the latter from the dance club, easily befriending him when they both got closer due to being chosen to represent their school in the local dance competition against other schools.

“you look cute in them wonie!” his other friend, Sunoo adds, examining the rest of the pictures with adoration. he’s from a year above you both while Riki’s from a year below. but because Jungwon’s done summer school for some courses that made him pretty much more advanced than his peers, he’s sharing a few classes with Sunoo this school year.

“jungwon, can i talk to you for a minute?” 

it’s already embarrassing to approach them this way when he’s clearly in some serious talks with his friends but you had no choice. it’s now or never.

“sure!” he turns to his friends excitedly, about to say goodbye but Sunoo smiles brightly at you both, returning the pictures on the table before grabbing the complaining Riki with him as they both leave to let you guys talk. 

you smile gratefully in return, waving at them as they leave. you wouldn’t want those two to witness whatever more embarrassing things you might say to their friend. those two are already known in your school with Sunoo having quite a lot of friends and Riki’s status due to his dance achievements but you’ve never really talked to them before.

facing Jungwon now, you watch the challenging look in his eyes. but you didn’t miss the knowing smile, hoping it’s not because he already knew what all this is going to be.

“can you be my valentine?” you say as fast as you can to fight your increasing heartbeat. the nerves did go away when his smile turned into shock.

your question did surprise Jungwon a lot. he thought that you were here to talk about his quick confession earlier but he didn’t think that you’d ask him this. 

he was actually planning a grandiose proposal to ask you even knowing that you could reject him. 

but somehow Jungwon’s assured that you won’t. he’s indeed been annoying and clinging to you since the beginning of last year to get your attention but you’ve been softening to him lately so he’s confident and he was right.

“can you be mine too?”

“i asked first”

“well, i was going to ask you” he countered. “that’s why i was talking to Sunoo-hyung and Riki” he added.

“oh” you pause, nodding in understanding as a genuine smile appears on your face but your eyes hold that mischievous glint that Jungwon immediately recognized.

“but now you ruined it” he continues, now sulking a bit with his lips jutting out which made you laugh a little.

"how could i ruin it when it's for me?" you deadpan, your tone and smile teasing him further, causing his face to slowly become red.

"you asked me first and i said yes first so mine's more valid than yours," he says indignantly, huffing as he looks away from you which you find cute.

“okay wonie, let’s see how grand this surprise of yours is” you relent, stepping closer to him before planting a quick peck on his cheeks, making Jungwon’s eyes widen.

the boy’s totally flustered, which erupts another hearty giggle from you. he never thought you’d call him that let alone kiss him so he’s having a mix of delight and content of you reciprocating his feelings.

“i love you won” you add softly, looking sincerely into his eyes before walking away, leaving him still speechless at where he’s standing.

maybe it’s too early to tell him that but with how long you’ve been repressing this feeling, you’re pretty sure this time that it's certainly more than just a crush.

e/n: idk how i wrote this really cuz this is so out of my comfort zone since it's the first time that i've written an only fluff fic so i hope it's okay 😅. btw i based OC's inner turmoil on pola XD

#enhypen #jungwon x reader #enhypen x reader #jungwon fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen imagines #enha fluff #jungwon imagine #jungwon scenarios #jungwon imagines #yang jungwon #enha fics #jungwon fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enha #enhypen scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios

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Blue Scribbles | Trent Alexander-Arnold

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader

Summary: Trent and you have always bumped heads, but after seeing him kiss a girl, you begin to feel something you shouldn't.

Word Count: 8.0k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, little angst reader is drunk briefly, jerkface Trent, vomitting, loose-editing

Note: Not my best work but might as well free up space in my wips. Just a whole lot of nothing but Dominik cameos, sorrry.

“Trent, are you bringing anyone to the party?” Harvey asks, flipping through his notepad to jot down the number of guests.

Trent nods his head mindlessly, head still tucked down as he scrolls through his phone, “Yeah, just put down two.”

“Girls?” Dominik blurts. “Gonna have them meet at the same time?”

Trent looks up at his friend, a smug expression unfolding on his lips as looks at the rest of the group. All six pairs of eyes await his answer. His eyes circle back to you, his smirk growing wider, “Something like that.”

You dart your eyes away. You don’t care who Trent brings to the party, it just bothered you that after looking at the entire group of six at the table, he stopped and stared at you to confirm his number of guests. It shouldn’t have made you feel anything, but it left you feeling bitter.

Harvey nudges your elbow, “And what about you?”

“Just me,” you murmur. Trent snorts from across the table and you look up at him, he sends you back a wink. “Say what you have to say.”

He shrugs, placing his phone face down on the table, “Nothin.’”

“Don’t start,” Veronica rubs her temple.

“Are you going to tell those two girls, who by the way, are bestfriends, that you’re fucking the both of them?” you remark, ignoring Veronica’s plea. The rest of the group groans, Jude gasping.

“You’re doing what?” His eyebrows wide.

Trent clenches his jaw, the smug expression he wore moments ago disappearing, “I’m not fucking either.”

“Yeah right,” you huff, closing your laptop and slipping it into your bag.

“Where are you going,” Tara sits up, grabbing a hold of your wrist.

“I’m going home.”

“It’s dark out, you can’t walk alone.”

“It’s not that late,” you reply, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. The sun had already set and the apartment was not that far away, although sure, it would’ve been safer to walk with someone.

You don’t notice Trent trailing behind you until the door swings open, him scurrying behind you, “Did you really have to say that so loud?”

“It’s not like we all didn’t know.”

Jude not knowing was his own fault, he was too airheaded at times to remember gossip.

He grabs a hold of your wrist and you spin around to face him. He shoves his hands into his black hoodie, “I’m not having sex with either of them.”

You shut your eyes close, “I don't need to know that.”

“Yeah, well you talk like you know everything,” he exasperates.

Huffing, you pull your jacket tighter to your chest, “Okay, fine. You aren’t fucking either of them.”

Trent purses his lips, “I’ll walk with you.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, come on,” he walks past you, bumping into your shoulder.

Trent is not someone who you consider yourself close to. He was a part of the friend group, but he was also your academic rival. The two of you bumped heads constantly in class, always on opposite sides in debate, and fighting over the better grade in biology. No amount of “forced-bonding”—as Veronica described it—stopped the bickering. Since you met him four years ago, nothing has changed and that didn't seem to be changing soon either.

Trent suddenly shuffles around in his backpack, tsking to himself as he looks back at you, “Do you have a pen I could borrow? We have that paper due tomorrow and you know, we have to write it out.”

You roll your eyes, swinging your bag around to your chest. You’re careful to make sure you don’t slip off the sidewalk but Trent stays close to the side closest to the road, him bumping into your shoulder to move you further away.

“Sorry,” you mutter, unzipping the small pouch. The only available pen you have is a brand new blue Pilot G2 pen, one that you got from the library. You sigh, “Here.”

“Thanks,” he takes it and threads it into the space between the tip of his ear and head. His locs fall on top of it.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, only helping him because he was walking you home—but he lived in the apartment next to yours. No surprise there.

“Have you already finished your paper?” He asks, turning back to you. A cloud of condensation blows in your direction.

“Yep.”

He nods, “You had what? Romanticism?”

“Uh-huh.”

He chuckles, “What’s got you so upset? I just saw you earlier and you were fine. And then the stunt you pulled in the library? What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m good,” you stare ahead, the apartment finally coming into view.

He bumps into your shoulder again, this time with more force, “Why are you being such an ass?”

You stop abruptly, attempting to grab your pen back but he just weaves away. “Am I supposed to thank you for walking me home?”

Trent smiles but not genuine, his tongue licking across his lips, “I try to be nice even after you’ve said something about me twice.”

“You live there too!” you scoff, and then turn back to the apartment. Scanning the key fob, the staircase doors open and Trent follows closely behind you.

“I was trying to make small talk with you,” he says calmly, rephrasing his words as if it will prolong the conversation.

“Don’t. We don’t do small talk.”

“Your mood changed so fast, sorry for trying to make sure you were okay,” he relents.

You halt, turning around and looking down at him, “Don’t act like you care about me.”

He gapes, “You’re my friend, of course I care.”

“Friends? We aren’t friends, Trent.”

“Why not?” he looks taken aback, his hand clutching onto the rail. His knuckles turn whiter the longer you take to respond.

“Because you ruined my presentation!”

“That happened months ago.”

“That was an asshole move and you know it, don’t be dense. I worked on it for an entire month and you fucked it all up, for what? A five minute laugh? You cost me my grade,” you cross your arms, feeling yourself grow hot as rage seeps through you. “I would’ve never done that shit to you. Why do you think I’ve kept my distance from you? All I want to do is punch your stupid face.”

Trent huffs, “Then do it, if that’s going to stop making you feel upset.”

You blow out a breath, “You don’t get it.”

“Then tell me.”

“I was this close to getting an A,” you pinch your fingers together, displaying the small gap you needed to bump your B to an A. All you needed was a superb presentation and you would've gotten it, but here comes Trent, infiltrating your hard drive and changing your entire presentation to Latin. Luckily, you had memorized and practiced what you wrote and was able to present it that way, the PowerPoint just a mere background. But it wasn’t enough to change your grade to an A.

You exhale slowly again, “And then you changed my presentation and I got a bad grade on it. Long nights worth of researching, gone.”

Trent glances around the stairs, biting down onto his bottom lip, “I’m sorry.”

“Too late,” you purse your lips. “It doesn’t matter now.” You turn around and head up the stairs. Trent lagged behind but then eventually caught up to your pace. You held the door open for him begrudgingly, him walking past you without a glance. His hands stuffed into his pockets as he walked down the corridor to your and his apartments.

He shuffles around in his pocket for his keys and then opens his door, slamming it closed and you furrow your eyebrows at his attitude. You slam your door back, not caring that it rattles the apartment.

-

Trent is a couple of minutes late to class, your professor going on about your papers needing to be passed down to the ends of the rows so that she could pick them up.

And for whatever reason, your eyes latch onto Trent’s appearance once he strolls into class. A black beanie covers his head as he climbs up the stairs, his backpack on one shoulder, and the black leather jacket he has on makes your eyebrow rise. Was it new?

As he passes by your seat, the scent of his usual laundry detergent is replaced with an unfamiliar cologne. You let out a cough, him glancing in your direction but then turning away as he sits down. His eyes look a lot more hooded than usual, and the sudden emergence of eye bags.

Two seats separate the two of you but the space is so small that it’s almost an arm’s length of distance in reality. You had missed the first day of class, not realizing the seat you chose the second day of class was next to Trent, neither of you daring to move away.

He takes out his paper quickly, passing it in your direction and the ink—it’s black? You give him a dubious look as you pass it to the person sitting beside you.

“Where’s my pen?”

“I lost it,” he mumbles.

“Are you serious?”

He nods, never looking at you as he props up his iPad, “Very.”

“Dickhead,” you whisper. You’d have to grab another pen. You had multiple colored pens, but nothing compared to the slick roll of a Pilot G2 pen. It was a good pen.

Class goes by without another peep from Trent, until the professor tells you you’ll be assigned a partner and topic for the next research paper. You hold your breath as you search through the class’s website to find your partner, and the universe always works against your favor:

Trent Alexander-Arnold. Darwinism.

Trent slams his laptop closed, seemingly just reading the same list you did and you groan. The paper was due in a week.

“We can meet up later this week,” you suggest.

“I have to get to class,” he says, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and walking away.

You sigh, gathering your things and then following Trent. He is already at the end of the row when you notice a blue tab sticking out of the small pouch of his backpack. Your pen!

You pick up your pace, grumbling at your peers as they stop you from catching up to him. They crowd the stairs and take their time going down them, you attempting to maneuver through them but it’s no use. Once you exit, you stand on your tippy toes and catch the tip of his black beanie. As you beeline towards him, he turns the corner and once you round it, you stop dead in your tracks.

He’s grinning as he wraps his arm over a girl’s shoulder, leaning down to press a kiss on her lips. It isn’t a quick kiss, it’s a deep one, his fingers coming up to her cheek to draw her in deeper. Something tumbles in your stomach, making you lean against the wall for support. You turn away, feeling like you’ve invaded his privacy and you really shouldn’t have seen that. You swallow the bile in your throat and head to the library.

Dominik is the first one you see in the study room, his head perking up as he spots you, “Hey.”

“Hey,” you exasperate.

His eyebrows pinch, “You okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “Just motivating myself for Harvey’s party tonight.”

He chuckles, “He says it should be lowkey, just us.”

And whoever Trent is planning on inviting.

You gulp, “Mm-hmm.”

“You look like you’re going to puke,” he says, putting down his iPad and standing up. He grabs the bin and pushes it near you.

Before you can thank him or push it away, Trent walks in. And that’s it, you bend down and hurl into the bin.

“Oh my god,” Dominik yelps. “Maybe you shouldn’t go to the party tonight.”

Trent doesn’t say a word as he sits down, you take the napkin Dominik pulled out of his bag. You wipe your face, feeling flushed and dizzy.

“I’m going to go home.”

“Do you want me to walk you?” Dominik asks.

“Uh—”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Trent says, slouching down in his seat as he types on his phone. You glance at him and notice the tips of his fingers are stained blue. You don’t question it as you get up to leave.

You can’t keep a secret. It was your biggest weakness, always making you physically ill. Trent was kissing one of those girl’s, her bestfriend oblivious that they were both going for the same guy. You had to either tell her or somehow forget about it.

Dominik huffs, closing his iPad and grabbing your backpack. He swings it over his shoulder and ushers you out of the room. Once the door closes, you blurt, “Trent was kissing her.”

“What?” Dominik asks.

“He kissed her. Her bestfriend has no idea.”

“Her bestfriend?”

“They’re both going for Trent!” You turn towards him and he’s blatantly confused, his lips part open.

“Okay, so what?”

“One of them is bound to get hurt.”

“Maybe they know,” Dominik sighs. “It’s not our business.”

“But tonight, he’s bringing them both.”

He walks you into the lift, “And? Trent can handle his own business. If he’s going for a pair of bestfriends, let him.”

“I’m breaking girl code,” you murmur, letting your head fall dramatically against the lift’s walls.

Dominik rolls his eyes, “You don’t even know them.”

“But I know it’s happening.”

Dominik sighs, letting the conversation die out. He walks you back to your apartment, making sure you eat something before he goes next door to his own bedroom.

-

Tara has you out of the apartment before you can even protest. Dominik’s already too buzzed to tell you to go back home, instead he’s pouring you a shot glass. Even though you know alcohol wouldn’t calm your nerves down, you down it anyway. It burns your throat that you turn away from the island, accidentally bumping into someone.

Looking up, Trent wears a weary smile as he looks down at you. His beanie is long gone, but so are his locs. Instead his hair is cut short, super short that you blink repeatedly at it, just to make sure your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you.

Before you can say something, he looks away and walks past you. You don’t realize his arm is clutching onto someone else, the girl from earlier following closely behind him.

Dominik coughs and you face him, he shakes his head rapidly. His cheeks flush red as he starts choking.

“Jesus, Domi.”

“What?” he rasps, bending down to catch his breath. You rub his back as your gaze finds Trent. Trent brings a brown bottle of beer to his lips, his gaze flickering up at you. “You aren’t the only one who lost a boyfriend today.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend to lose—wait what?” you pick up Dominik by his shoulder. His eyes are brimmed red, his cheeks still beet red. “What happened with you and Ibou?”

He shrugs, “He said he wants a break.”

“What?”

He looks down at his shot glasses, pouring another round of whiskey into them, “And it makes sense why you threw up, you like Trent.”

“No I don’t,” you deny, your eyes finding Trent again, hoping he couldn’t hear Dominik. Trent is too submersed into conversation to notice.

He nods, handing you the glass, “Don’t deny it, it’s obvious the more I realize it. Always has been.”

He can’t be right. Whatever chance Trent had was ruined the day he messed up your presentation. He made you sob in the girls’ restroom, there was no way you could have a crush on him.

But your stomach tumbling earlier today. The burn of your neck and cheeks. And the way your chest caved in so deep that it felt like you were choking—no.

It didn’t help that Dominik had known you so well. He was the first friend you made on campus and he had always had a knack for reading you. He ended up meeting Trent through his football team, but you had already known of Trent.

“See,” Dominik murmurs, pointing out the horror etched across your face. “He’s cute, he’s just an asshole.”

“No, Dominik, you’re wrong.”

He purses his lips, face growing somber, “I wish I was, just so I didn’t have to see the disappointment on your face. Let’s just forget about it. Ibou is supposed to come and I don’t know…I might escape to your apartment to be honest.”

“Go for it,” you mumble, tearing your eyes away from Trent and tilting your head back as you gulp down the shot. Dominik is quick to pour another, and Jesus, how many were you and him going to have back to back?

Once the both of you drink the third shot, you take the bottle away from his tight grip. The party had barely got rowdy thirty minutes ago and you had maybe fifteen minutes before you couldn’t see straight. Drinking with Dominik was never a smart idea and you were going to regret it soon.

Tara drags you and Dominik away from the island to the beer pong table. Trent stands behind you, the girl—and her bestfriend—beside him. Dominik hums in your ear, before grabbing a cup and drinking the beer.

“Dominik!” Jude yells and Dominik apologizes, a sloppy grin forming.

“You two drink too much already?” Trent butts his head between the two of you, Dominik murmuring in Hungarian as he gets startled—or annoyed—with Trent’s voice.

You look away, crossing your arms as Tara and Veronica start the round of beer pong.

Trent’s presence behind you makes you feel hot, as if you can feel his breath on your exposed shoulder. And when you miss your first shot, he doesn’t let his presence go unnoticed, “You can’t be that drunk already.”

“Shut up,” you slur, jabbing him in his rib with your elbow. The white tee he wears hugs his biceps tight that you get distracted momentarily before Dominik pulls you back to your senses. He tosses the next ball and it lands in a cup.

As the game continues, Tara and Veronica don’t let up, making you and Dominik drink more cups of beer. Your head was already spinning, incoherent words flying past your lips as you tried to distract Tara and Veronica.

Once you two lose, Dominik sits down on the couch and you groan, finding yourself in the kitchen and searching through their fridge for a bottle of water.

“What are you looking for?” Trent asks behind you, his arms folded.

“Why do you have so many eggs?” your brows furrow as you stare at the drawer filled with eggs.

“Do you need water?”

“Yeah,” you stand up, feeling the weight of the world around your head, and then you bump your head against the top of the fridge. Before you can tumble, Trent wraps his arms around your waist.

“Okay, let’s sit you down, yeah?” He ushers you to a chair and you groan, your head pounding from the sudden hit. The wave of pain seemed to only exacerbate your nausea. Your cheeks feel hot as you close your eyes to make the room stop spinning.

Trent uncaps the water and taps your elbow. You hold your hand out, “Hold on.”

“Do you need to throw up?”

“Just shut up.”

He sighs, “C’mon.” He bends down to hoist you up from your waist, ushering you into their guest restroom that was a few steps away. He locks the door and leans you against the wall. He leans against the door, watching you carefully.

“Ibou and Dominik broke up,” you slur. Here go you spilling secrets that weren’t yours to tell. “Fuck you weren’t supposed to know that.”

He nods, “It’s okay, I already knew.”

Thank God.

“And I saw you kissing that girl—ugh—what was her name, Clare? Clarissa?”

He furrows his eyebrows, crossing his arms. Your eyes selfishly land on his bulging biceps. He coughs, “Anything else you want to spit out?”

“I know you have my blue pen. And I’m really fucking drunk right now.”

Trent fights off a chuckle, it was a sight to see you flushed from alcohol. You rarely get super drunk and this seems to be the night you are going to—or already were. Your eyes are more hooded than usual, hair a bit out of place, and your face is sticky.

“Yeah, you are really drunk,” he chuckles.

“Why are you laughing? It’s not funny,” you groan. “My head, it feels so heavy and then the fucking fridge—”

Trent bursts into another loud laugh, “I’m sorry, it’s just, I haven’t seen you like this since last year.”

“I didn’t plan on it, Dominik kept pouring shots and then we sucked at beer pong.”

Trent shakes his head, “No, you sucked. He was pretty good.”

“I sucked,” you throw your hands up in surrender but it only makes you feel more unbalanced that you wobble.

Trent reaches out for you, “Woah.”

He brings his head away from yours, his lips shiny with saliva as he peers down at you. Your hands are clutching onto his arms to regain your balance and god when did his arms feel so strong? And those eyelashes, were they always this long?

“You okay?” he whispers. His voice is so soft that it makes you close your eyes, you wanting to desperately lean forward against him to settle the spins.

You are too drunk for this. Instead, you fall back onto the wall and try to stand against it as straight as possible.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He lets go of you and hands you the water bottle, “Drink up.”

Bile teases along your throat that it hurts swallowing but you continue on, feeling the bottle crush beneath your grip. Trent watching you gulp down the water doesn’t make the room any less stuffy or hot.

“You’re drunk,” he repeats, “so you won’t remember any of this in the morning?”

You let out a dry chuckle, “Probably not, to be honest. Being in a small restroom with you, god I hope not.”

Something flickers across Trent’s eyes but it’s gone within a heartbeat as he says coldly, “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to remember this either.”

“Why aren’t you with Clarissa and her bestfriend?”

“Because I’m here taking care of you being a sloppy drunk,” he spits.

“I can handle myself, I was doing just fine until you startled me and made me hit my head.”

Trent’s nostrils flare, his jaw clenching, “I don’t understand you.”

“Save your monologue, I won’t remember this and I really want to remember the way you look like you’re about to lose it,” you say monotonously, finishing the last bit of water.

Trent grits his teeth, “Can you stop being an ass for five minutes?”

“Timer starts now.”

“Why do Clarissa and Diane bother you so much?”

“Because they’re bestfriends, that’s cruel, Trent,” you say. “They have no idea you’re playing them both. I shouldn’t be surprised after you humiliated me in front of everyone in class, but that’s cruel. And you say you’re sorry but you’re doing the same thing.”

Trent’s eyebrows crease, “It’s none of your business.”

“It’s not, but you’re an awful person. And it just makes me look at you differently. If the presentation didn’t prove you to be the biggest jackass at this uni, that does.”

“What you think of me doesn’t matter to me.” Trent snarls, looking around the restroom but only faces the mirror, where he immediately darts his eyes away from his reflection. “You made it out to be that I was playing them both, I’m not.”

You gawk, “You were right, I am too drunk for this.” You step to leave the restroom but he stops you, your head bumping into his chest that you stumble back against the wall where you were. “So what, I’m wrong and you’re only going for Clarissa? You know what, you’re right again, it’s none of my business and I’m not about to sit here and try to get it right because I won’t remember this in the morning. I’ll still think of you the same.”

“I like you,” he blurts out.

“What?”

He looks…flushed? Shocked? His eyes wide and his lips part as if he can’t believe what he just said, “Nothing. I just wanted you to stop talking.”

Silence falls between the two of you as he scratches the nape of his neck. He chews on his bottom lip anxiously. You couldn’t have heard him right. Surely the alcohol was seeping deep into you that comprehending words was much more of a task than before.

“Why did you cut your hair?” you ask quietly. Your gaze shifts to his chest, it’s heaving rapidly.

He shrugs, “Just wanted a change.”

“Oh, okay. Cool.”

“Do you like it?” He glances at the mirror and pats the back of it down.

Instead of answering, your jumbled mind reads his expression. He’s looking away from you but he’s expecting an answer, looking shy. His hands are still patting misplaced curls back into place but nothing is out of place. He waits patiently for your answer, but didn’t he say that it didn’t matter what you thought of him?

“Didn’t even recognize you.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. He looks at you and his eyes urge for you to continue. “I guess good, but then I recognized you and it became bad.”

His eyes look down briefly, “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“Yeah yeah,” you grumble, having heard those same words over and over again.

“I want to show you something in my bedroom.”

Your brows furrow, “I’m drunk, I’m not having sex with you.”

His mouth drops, “No! That’s not what I meant.”

“I would hope not,” you gag as the image of you two pops up in your head. “I don’t think I’d want to remember that anyway, good thing I wouldn’t.”

Trent’s flustered state doesn’t go away as he rambles, “I made you something.”

“If I go upstairs, you might have to carry me down.”

“Okay,” he shrugs, holding out his hand. “Come on.”

You hesitate, “Won’t your girls get mad?”

He rolls his eyes, “They aren’t my girls. Come on.”

You clasp your hand into his but the second he pulls you, you stumble into chest. He places his free hand on your waist and helps you out of the restroom.

Dominik stands with a drunken smile perched against the wall beside the restroom, “Oh, I’m glad you two worked out.” He sends you a wink before taking another swig of his drink.

You turn back to Trent, “Make sure he ends up in his bed tonight.”

“I know,” he nods, tapping your hip so that you can lead the way. Despite your few stumbles and the death stares from the pair of bestfriends, you make it to the staircase. Trent guides you upstairs with his hand pressed against your back.

Your head still felt like it was spinning but the bottle of water helped. You just needed some kind of bread, or crackers, something.

You turn back to Trent, he stops abruptly and bends down to your ear, “What?”

“Do you have food? Water and bread?”

“Bread?” He scrunches his eyebrows, his hand becoming more heavy on your back.

“It helps with alcohol.”

He blows a raspberry, “I’ll get it for you once we get to my room.”

“Okay, thank you.” You continue up the narrow stairs, cursing as you trip over a step. Trent hoists you up quickly, his hands never leaving your waist, even after your shirt lifted and he was now touching bare skin. His fingers stung, firm as they dug into you.

Once you reach his bedroom, you plop down on the floor and lean against his bed and bed frame. He leaves to get you bread and water and you peek around his room. Not much has changed since you had last been in it. There’s a couple of books piled on his nightstand, a hoodie loosely thrown over his desk chair, and a floor lamp lighting up the room.

You expect him to return with a bottle and maybe three slices of bread, but instead he returns with a six-pack of water bottles and an entire loaf of bread. You selfishly gawk at his biceps but then feel your eyes well up with tears.

“Are you crying?” he scowls, getting onto his knees and prying open the six-pack. He then unties the bread and faces it towards you.

“You brought me a whole loaf?” Your voice trembles as you tear a piece off and eat it. Your jaw wobbles as more tears spill out, a much harder cry than you expected.

“It’s just bread…” he mumbles, sitting next to you and hesitating to look at you. He rests his hands over his perched knees while you stuff your face with the bread. A small smile teeters against his lips.

“You’re so sweet.”

“You just said I was an awful person.”

“You do awful things,” you correct.

“Wouldn’t I still be awful then?”

You nod through tears, not wanting to debate the logistics of your drunk mind because you knew somehow you’d convince yourself to see him through rose-colored glasses. You’d circle back to him being a “sweet” guy because deep down you know he is, but sometimes he does things that you don’t understand—much less he.

He shuffles up to his feet, “Let me show you what I made.”

You shake his head, “Don’t. I won’t remember.”

Trent looks back at you, his piercing brown eyes growing more gentle as he looks back at you. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“I want to,” you confess.

He swallows, his hand on the edge of his dresser, “You’d hate it if you were sober.”

“No I wouldn’t,” you say muffled, still chewing on bread. Being thirsty and hungry, this bread tasted like the best entree.

He nods persistently, “You’d get upset that I wasted your pen. Say something about it being a good pen, probably your last because you only ever have one pen on your person. And then you’d probably throw it at me.”

You chuckle, “That does sound like me.”

He doesn’t laugh, only purses his lips as he opens his top drawer. He pulls out two things, turning his back to you before sitting back down beside you with haste.

Your head still felt a bit heavy, but with you sitting and getting hydrated, it felt a lot better. Maybe you wouldn’t wake up in the morning with a throbbing headache, and maybe you barely missed your limit before blacking out and remembering nothing.

“Here,” he says sheepishly. He pulls out a papered flower, the petals scribbled with blue ink. The flower is so elaborate with layers of petals—it was a dahlia. It must have taken Trent hours to cut the pieces into the right shape and then scribble them all blue. You knew he had to color them blue afterward because of the way the scribbles lined up, all pointing to the apex of the petal.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, twisting the dahlia from its makeshift stem.

He pulls out what he hides from his waist, “I had to buy more blue pens, thought you’d want the extras.”

The blue pens are tied together with a white ribbon, a little bow in the center. They’re in a makeshift bouquet, baby’s-breath tucked in the gaps.

“Okay now I’m really about to cry and not because I’m drunk,” you say, setting down the dahlia and wiping away the tears that cascade.

Trent’s jaw drops, “You aren’t drunk?”

“I’m getting sober,” you sob. Somehow knowing Trent wanted to show you what he made you while you were drunk and couldn’t remember doesn’t quiet the ache in your chest. Why didn’t he want to show you while you were sober? Why didn’t he want you to remember? It would’ve helped the way you see him, not as the cold-hearted persona he puts out.

Trent stays quiet as his hands twirl around the bouquet of pens. You were going to remember everything in the morning.

“It doesn’t make sense,” you whisper through your cries.

Trent looks at you, his eyes frantic, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

“You were kissing Clarissa after you made me this,” you pick up the dahlia. “Why would you do that to her? To me?”

He shakes his head, “It’s just a flower.”

“Trent, this is—elaborate. This is detailed. It’s beautiful, not something you can make within an hour. Is that why you were late to class? Why you looked so tired?”

He gulps down, “I had gotten a haircut, that took a couple of hours and then I still had to write the essay—”

“Why are you lying?” you look at him and he darts away. His jaw tenses as his hands tighten around his knees. “You didn’t write the paper yesterday. You already had it done before you asked me for the pen. You never wait until the last minute to do an assignment. You got a haircut and then you made this, tell me I’m wrong.”

A heavy exhale leaves his nose as he glances at you, “You’re right.”

As another sob escapes you, Trent’s breathing seems to become difficult. He shuffles his legs around until they’re outstretched in front of him.

You shake your head, “God I’m so fucking stupid. You are an awful person, and I should’ve never thought you were any different.”

Trent was going to bask you in gifts as if he wasn’t making out with an entire girl after giving you the cold shoulder the same day. He spent hours making and buying you something—and those pens weren’t cheap—just to screw around with someone else.

As you attempt to stand up, Trent grabs your wrist, “Wait, let me explain.”

“How do you explain that, Trent?” you ask, almost yelling. You snap your wrist out of his grip and gulp half a bottle of water.

“Just listen to me,” he stands up, pulling his shirt down. “I convinced myself it was stupid. You fucking hate me. Why would you forgive me after all that I’ve done to you? I wasted your pen and then bought you more to replace them when all you wanted was your pen. You didn’t want my flower or more pens, just like how you didn’t want my apologies after ruining your presentation. It was a joke gone too far and I get that, but I didn’t think it would hurt you. I didn’t know it would bring your grade down. I know you’re smart, I knew you’d know what to say, but fuck I didn’t know our professor was going to grade the PowerPoint so hard. I tried to tell him that I did it, but all he did was bring my grade down too, but I maintained my A. I care about you, I do, and I’m sorry for hurting you.”

You shake your head, even though you were getting sober his words were too much to digest especially when he spoke way too fast to keep you from leaving.

“Trent,” you rub your forehead. “Even if all that is true, that doesn’t explain Clarissa.”

He holds out his hand in front of you as if you are going to dash out his room. “I was distracting myself from hurting you. Yeah, I’m hurting her too. I’m not proud of it, but—I can’t hurt you more than what I already have.”

“Yeah,” you nod tiredly. “You fucked up really bad.”

You make your way to his door but he grabs a hold of your arm, physically pleading you to stay and listen to him. “Wait, okay, please—”

“You wanted to give me these when I wouldn’t remember. As if I wouldn’t realize it was from you?”

Trent nods, “I know you would’ve, but it would’ve been different with you confronting me. I could’ve lied and said it was from Dominik or something—”

“God, you and your lies,” you shake your head. “Just fucking stop. I’m not going to listen to you if you keep fucking lying, I’m done with this.”

“I said ‘could’ve,’” he says curtly. “I’m being honest. Fuck,” he rasps, pulling the ends of his curls as if he still has his locs. “I like you, stupidly and selfishly so. The only reason I went for Clarissa is because I know you don’t like me back and I’ve been trying to move on. But it’s hard when we’re in the same friend group, when I see you in class, and then get paired with you. It doesn’t help that Dominik is constantly in my ear talking about what a screw up I am because I’m not doing this right. But fuck, do you know how much it hurt for you to tell me we aren’t friends? That you don’t even see me as a friend? I made the dahlia as a gift to give to you as a friend but fuck—” He stops himself and runs his hands over his short curls.

He shakes his head, “I scrolled through your Insta and for the first time realized how I’m cropped out of your posts or barely there. Even before I ruined your presentation, you’ve always hated me. I thought we were bantering, I thought you knew I viewed you as my friend and me teasing you about grades was friendly fire. We’re both competitive, but I thought you knew I cared about you. I thought it was so obvious. After I scrolled through your Insta, I didn’t want to give you the dahlia or pens back. I thought it best to forget about it.”

You bite onto your tongue digesting his words. He has always been a rambler, especially when he was desperate and watching him nervously shift the weight of his body between his feet, the way he tugged his hair, or him constantly licking and biting his lip between pauses, it hurt seeing him like this. He wasn’t prepared to confess his feelings or his intentions, just spewing his thoughts without a blueprint. It was a mess.

He was a mess.

“Trent,” you sigh. “Do you want to talk it out or do you want us to just talk tomorrow morning? After we’ve both gotten rest.”

He scratches his face, “I don’t think I’m going to get any sleep after this.”

You sure wouldn’t either.

You nod, moving the hoodie from his desk chair to his desk before sitting in it. “Okay, then let’s talk. The only reason I cropped you out of my pictures is because you aren’t much of a social media person. You always seem reluctant to take photos, never really wanting to be in them, and posting you after you didn’t want to be in the photo in the first place seemed like I was throwing you under the bus.”

Trent looks down but the side of his lip curls up, “It’s okay to post me.”

“Okay,” your tired voice comes out as a whisper. “I know us competing in class was always friendly but you really messed up with ruining my presentation. I know you are sorry about it, I get it, it just made me view you differently. Not as my friend because friends don’t hurt each other, but obviously we aren’t strangers. I forgive you for my presentation and grade, there’s nothing we can do at this point and it makes me feel a little better that you tried to help me despite failing. So we’re friends, okay? Friends.”

You hold out your hand for Trent, he reluctantly grabs it and gives your hand a weak shake. His thumb strokes your knuckles before he lets go.

“I like you,” you admit. “I like you too, but you have a lot of redeeming to do because I’m not sure if I can ever get the image of you kissing Clarissa out of my head. And you have a lot to sort out with her.”

He nods, “Mm-hmm, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh.

Trent seems distraught enough. He didn't need any more of his wrongdoings pointed out. He understood the message, even if he had gone all about this wrong.

“I think we both need to stop assuming stuff for each other. Like me hating you. Hate is strong, Trent, maybe a strong dislike but that was before this conversation,” you chuckle. “And I shouldn’t have assumed you were messing with both Clarissa and Diane.”

He nods, standing upright against his dresser, “Okay. We’re good.”

-

The next morning, Tara, Veronica, and you head over to the boy’s apartment to help them clean. Dominik’s wearing sunglasses, his curls tousled as you sit down next to him on the couch.

He barely moves his head in your direction, “Morning.”

“It’s noon,” you chuckle.

“I threw up in Trent’s bathroom when he walked you next door,” he says. “He came back pissed.”

“Did you forget where your room was?” you laugh. Trent enters the livingroom, the mop in his hand as he sees the two of you settled on the couch. His lips simper as he places the mop into the sink and then sits down in the space next to you.

Dominik coughs, “No. I just wanted to be with you and him, but I didn’t realize you both left. And then it just came out.”

“You missed the loo, you idiot,” Trent replies.

Dominik waves his hand, “How was I supposed to know the lid was closed?”

Trent rolls his eyes, bumping into your shoulder, “Hi.”

“Hey,” you smile. He seems more lively than before, his teeth breaking through his lips as he smiles bashfully. His eyes scan your face and it makes your cheeks warm. You turn away, looking towards Dominik, “Well, it seems like you have a long day ahead.”

You tap on Dominik’s knee and he groans. You get up and look back at Trent, “Need help with anything?”

“Still cleaning my bathroom,” he stands up. The loose gray zip up he has on flaps open revealing his white shirt underneath.

You scrunch your nose, “You slept with his vomit on the floor?”

“He threw up a lot,” he groans, walking you up to his room. “I cleaned most of it but not a deep clean. And then forced him into his shower, but I had to stay with him because he kept crying about Ibou.”

“You’re such a nice friend,” you chuckle.

His eyes flicker away from you, “I’m not awful.”

“No, you aren’t,” you smile.

A moment of silence engulfs you both as you enter his bedroom, his sheets jostled around and his bathroom emitting cleaning fumes. You let out a cough, going to his window and propping it open.

He chuckles, “Yeah, I don’t think I was supposed to mix some of these.” As he points at the various bottles of cleaning supplies he’s opened, you let out a laugh. Your cheeks ache from smiling at his uncertain facial expression, as if he couldn’t have passed out from cleaning.

You glance down, “Oof, you are not.”

The two of you work in tandem quietly but also talk about various things. Trent even brings up the project the two of you were paired together for and hashes out the dates to work on it.

It was soothing to converse with him without feeling on edge as if he would say something to get under your skin. He wasn’t making any snarky remarks, only a few teasing words, but they were jokes, a goofy grin always following afterward.

“What?” you gasp.

He nods, he tosses a wipe into the bin, “You forced me into the restroom downstairs.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You were drunk,” he shrugs, a teasing smile teetering onto his lips. Last night wasn’t much of a blur, you remembered Trent and talking to him in his bedroom, but you didn’t remember how you got up there. The pen bouquet and dahlia were placed on your nightstand but you remembered him giving them to you.

You swipe at his chest, his jacket gone, “That’s such a lie.”

Trent bursts into a laugh, “You seriously don’t remember the restroom?”

“No, what did we kiss or something?” you quip but then palm your face. “Tell me we didn’t.”

He chuckles, “I think you wanted to.”

You laugh, feeling hot but not embarrassed, just nervous. Trent’s taunting gaze is unrelenting, the smile he hides by forcing his lips into a thin line. You chuckle, pushing his shoulder, “I don’t think so. I think I would’ve remembered you and Clarissa.”

Trent’s face simmers down as looks away, “I talked to her by the way. I apologized and told her the truth. She slapped me but—” you burst into a laugh while he rolls his eyes. “Don’t laugh, but yeah, I’m not going to be seeing her again—or Diane for that matter.”

“Good,” you nod. Even if he was doing it because he wanted to now focus on you after knowing you felt the same, it was good that he wasn’t going to be leading someone on when he didn’t feel the same for them.

“So,” he exhales, his chest bowing down as he looks at you, “can we hang out alone sometime? Doesn’t have to be anything big, maybe a walk around campus or coffee? I know I have a lot of making up to do with you, but I want us to be on the same page this time.”

You resist the urge to smile. Him taking care of Dominik last night stuck out to you the most. More than him bringing you water and bread to sober up. Dominik was too much of a heartbroken and vulnerable mess to handle himself, and after seeing just how much his vomit plastered on Trent’s walls, that was a big ask of him to deal with at three in the morning.

Trent was trying, flawed, but trying. You could work with that.

“Okay, we can grab coffee,” you smile. “But slow.”

He nods, “Okay.”

He breaks out into a smile as he pokes the broom against your shoulder. You let out a kiddish laugh, turning away from him to finish scrubbing the cabinets. Trent jabs your bent knee with his foot and you don’t catch yourself before you fall forward, your head hitting the cabinet.

“Oh shit,” he says, dropping down beside you and inspecting your forehead. Your head hitting the cabinet made the contact seem much more dramatic than what it really was, but Trent’s careful and concerned eyes only make you pretend it hurts more.

“Ow,” you feign, clutching the spot. He removes your hand gingerly, getting you to sit down on the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m already fucking this up, am I?” He suddenly leans forward and kisses the spot on your forehead, swiping his kiss over the spot with his thumb.

Your chest shakes as you laugh silently, him looking at you confused. Your silent laugh can be mistaken with a cry but he groans.

“You’re fine, aren’t you?” He stands up and holds out his hand.

“You looked so scared,” you tease, taking his hand and standing up.

He rolls his eyes, “That was loud.”

“The door was open a little,” you laugh. Your hand reaches out to grab a hold of his, “Thank you for checking out my forehead with your lips.”

“Ugh,” he flusters.

You give his hand a squeeze, “Thank you, Trent. You can kiss my forehead again.”

“No,” he moans dramatically, his eyes stopping at the spot on your forehead and then he gasps, “Oh my god, it’s already swollen.”

You turn around to face the mirror so fast that it gives you whiplash. His shit-eating grin is the only thing you see, your forehead unmarked. You scowl when you turn back towards him, not realizing just how close he stood in front of you.

He chuckles, leaning forward and pressing his lips chastly on your forehead, “You craving coffee?”

----

Note: I'll write a proper academic rivals to lovers eventually. I just got lost within the plot, too delirious to make it make sense LOL. 🫠🫠

#trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold x you #trent alexander arnold imagine #em.writes

[ao3commentoftheday]

This is my reluctant fandom rivalry story. It’s long. Please bear with me. 

A couple years ago I got into a major (read: very active) fandom. I wrote a few fics, then began what would become my longest WIP to date. That WIP generated a lot of interest, and as the smut escalated, I started getting more engagement with a fic than ever before – especially after posting a scene in which the characters finally hook up, in a very kinky and unexpected way. While working on this story I was following the work of other writers, and at one point a certain author who is pretty prolific and well-established in the fandom posted a finale to a work that they hadn’t updated in a long time. 

Seeing as how this work featured an uncommon ship dynamic for the pairing I write for – which my WIP also featured – I was interested to read this particular work. Then, when I got to their newly-added finale, I was astonished: it featured a scene that very closely paralleled the hook-up smut scene that I had just posted about a week or so prior, to a startling degree of similarity. So here were two characters in a very specific relationship dynamic—ages differing from canon—who were hooking up in the exact same way as my characters (also of this age/dynamic), down to the very same environment and scene context – the same uncommon blocking; same uncommon smut scenario – in a way that I’d thought was highly original when I wrote it (I haven’t seen anything like it before or since), and posted very close behind when mine was posted! The author even went out of their way to say that they’d actually written that scene “months ago,” and were only just getting around to finally posting it… /: *suspicious eyes*

You can see where I’m going with this. 

While not exactly plagiarism per se, that author received a tremendous amount of positive feedback from their many followers, while my chapter received a comparably modest response (though still very positive by my own standards, being so new to the fandom). I also worry that a good number of shared readers had encountered the other [popular] story, first, then caught up with mine after, only to wonder if I had copied the other author (unless they bothered to go into “chapter index” -> “full page index” to confirm publication dates, it would’ve looked like mine came after once I posted the next chapter). 

I decided not to confront them about it, though. There was no way I could prove that it wasn’t “parallel thinking,” even if it would make for a very odd coincidence. The wording was not the same, but it was structured very closely to what I’d written, including certain spicy details. I didn’t want to stir up drama in a new fandom, especially with such a popular author, lest I inadvertently alienate myself. 

But here’s the thing: I decided to just be flattered that my work had "inspired" theirs, and I tried to get past any lingering resentment by befriending them. Left kudos and the occasional nice comment on their work. Followed them on tumblr. Liked/RB’d their posts. But they steadfastly ignored me completely, for reasons I can only guess at. We have many common mutuals and they never like/reblog even my most popular posts (though these must cross their dash), though they will promote similar posts by anyone else. 

Over a year later, I’ve continued to follow this author’s work, keeping an eye out for other “coincidences” (though it’d be very ballsy of them to "borrow" from me again, since my work is more widely read now). Meanwhile, I have risen in popularity, myself, and while still not as popular as that author, I’m very proud of my own contributions to the fandom, and feel that my writing is a lot stronger than theirs. So I really shouldn’t let it get to me, but seeing them around all the time, being praised for their mid-level works and interacting with so many of my mutuals (while giving me the cold shoulder) still rankles me. Recently they even posted something about showing common courtesy by not stealing others' work in fandom, etc. that really rubbed me the wrong way. I stewed over it for way longer than is healthy. 

Any advice on how to navigate this one?

I want to enjoy my time in this fandom, but their ubiquitous, icy presence and my own lingering paranoia casts a pall over my experience.

This is one of those situations where you either need to confront them directly and let the chips fall where they may or you need to block them on every platform you share and pretend they don't exist.

You can't seem to get past what happened in the past, but you're also not talking it out with them. That means that you're stuck where you are until something changes. That thing is either messaging them directly or removing them from view.

Do not write a callout post. From what you've outlined here, you have a suspicion with no solid facts one way or the other. Writing a public post will just create fandom drama and having been tangentially involved in that before, do. not. recommend.

Personally, I think you need to evict them from your mind because they've been living there rent free for too long. But that's just my opinion. What do the rest of you think?

You can also find this ask mirrored over on Dreamwidth.

#asks and answers

[critterbitter]

If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your comic making process? I find it hard to make comics that look eye-pleasing to read and yours are like candy.

Ah, comics! Dig under cut to see some old wips as I attempt to explain my nightmare thought process to you.

For making a comic AESTHETIC and APPROACHABLE:

I've noticed that it's easier for people to be pulled into a comic if I set the environment first and foremost, so people have some vague context for the scene. Of COURSE that's not always necessary ( there are a lot of comics that start out without environmental story telling and it works perfectly) but I've always liked having a lil illustration before digging my rat claws into the meat of the story.

For example! “Emmet and Elesa have a clandestine meeting in the library at 4 am.”

The sketch was sort of the jumping point to where I wanted to go with the comic. I wanted to a. explain wtf is happening and b. draw a nice conclusion about what the f is happening.

You don't need to make the environment available in every panel too! I'd suggest making your first panel tell all the environment detail you need and then like... slowly removing irrelevant detail from there. And then hit folks with the background again at the end. (So basically, you don't see the library in this comic until the beginning and a bit towards the end. I have tricked you! aha!) So that's one tip i have. For Readability: Anyways, to make a comic easy to read, spacing is super important. Dialogue tends to cramp a shot by a WHOLE lot. For example! Remember the "Lamp is told she's beloved (and has a tsundere moment over it"? That used to be TWO panels. Man. Nightmare fuel. Lemme find it. (This is the rough. I Lined It, realized the pacing is off, and then withered. Please don't look at it too hard.)

So here's the thing. This READS. But the sheer amount of dialogue in the beginning is fatiguing for me and the "you are beloved, Lampent" NEEDS that oomph of both characters realizing that over the span of years, their relationship stopped being antagonistic and started being family instead. Some folks are fine with blocks of dialogue, but I have the attention span of a patrat on candy. I will not make it. SO! To match the almost moody atmosphere, I stretched the comic out. I stretched that bad boy out a LOT. And I got this out of it.

Something to keep in mind in comics is there's always going to be one or two iconic lines. Lines that make people FEEL things. Those lines deserve their own panel, their own shot, their whatever. A good story has lulls in its conversation. If you can replicate it, you're winning. Character Blocking:

So basically no, it's not all witchcraft. It's only a bit of witchcraft. Another thing that helps is differentiating characters if they're on the same panel is by solid blocks of color. I have, for the longest time when working on storyboards, blocked characters different tones in order to help differentiate them. Don't be shy! Do that if it helps your comics read! Ingo will always be darker shaded then emmet. The angry nightlight will always have some hint of purple on her (unless I forget). The first goal in a story is to convey information, hehe. Here's an example of color blocking! (This is from a VERY old botw comic I did for linktober in 2021.)

It's, ah, rather rustic compared to what I do. usually. I know! BUT the primary goal here is to convey where the characters are in relation to each other. And the fact they're color coded makes life easier for both reader and artist. Alright! That's all the tips I can think of off the top of my head. Time to get off that soap box, haha. Overall: Basically, my work process is-- draw a story telling image/ write a funny piece of dialogue. Build the comic around that. Pace it so the important lines stand out. Color code the characters for max visibility. And then four to twelve hours of lineart, but that's neither here or there.

Thanks for coming to my unregulated rambling!

#tutorial #but hideous and mostly cobbled from limestone and willpower #ask #mailbox #critterbitter #wip #botw #just some comic stuff! #submas wip #critterbitter screams into the void

[rosesbxrry]

Rendezvous

Pairing: Rugby Boyfriend! Jay X Cheerleader Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞 (Minors DNI), secret relationship✌️

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), Dom Jay, creampie, voyeurism (watching each other masturbate), so much mention of alcohol drinking, fingering, dirty talking, making out, riding, praising, mention of other sexual act done by them. Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else.

Summary: Your secret relationship with Jay is torturous to say the least, no thanks to the strained relationship between the cheerleading and rugby teams. Now with tournament season coming up and Jay being busy with training, you and he meet up for a secret rendezvous at a frat party after not seeing each other for two weeks, taking advantage of the situation where you both don’t have to worry about the peering eyes of your teammates. 

Main masterlist

Word count: 4,188 words

a/n: I don’t know how I ended up finishing this Jay fic first out of all the wips I have, and I still need to complete the nsfw links for him as well 🙃🙃 I guess rejoice to Jay stans, this one is for you 🫶🫶

You weren’t going to lie; the whole cheerleading thing was getting on your nerves, mainly because you could list all the drawbacks at the top of your head. 

Firstly, you bet you could find longer skirts that covered your ass better than whatever you wore they called uniforms. Secondly, no matter how bad the weather was, you had to stay on the field as long as the players were still playing, even if your pom poms were soaking wet from the rain. Thirdly, the amount of spare time you had to sacrifice to train between classes and assignments made you contemplate whether everything was worth the time and energy. 

How did you get into this position you may ask? Well, your friend Gaeul thought it was really funny to sign your name in the recruitment paper, dragging you along into her crusade of becoming the queen bee of the campus, even though she could very much have achieved that without you.

But the last drawback was the final nail to the coffin; it was embedded into the heads of all the new first-year students by the cheerleading captain that relationships with the rugby players were forbidden. Be sure to cooperate with that one rule and avoid getting kicked out of the team immediately.

Honestly, you weren’t sure how the feud between the rugby and cheerleading teams even happened in the first place. Your captain said that it goes way back, passing through alums, but you weren’t interested in history to remember the rest.

This drawback wouldn’t have affected you if only it weren't for Park Jongseong coming into the picture.

The secretive romance between you and him has been carefully built up behind the scenes, mostly because the amount of mutual friends you’ve shared with him ensues the moment you wake up naked in bed beside you after a very drunk party. 

Dealing with overly chatty teammates every day did have its perks, and based on what you can recall, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the rugby players and cheerleaders to hook up with one another in silent compliance; whatever happens in bed, remains in bed. The players were informed of the same rule by their own captain about the rule which only further confirms the weird rivalry between the two teams. 

Having that little reassurance, you were sure the one-night stand was a one-off thing, but it seemed Jay wasn’t ready to let go of you yet. 

Months of his flirtatious advances led to the classified yet cliche friends-with-benefits relationship you had established with him. And sex with Park Jongseong was inhumanely insane, like out of this world fucking good that it hurts to even think of how his hips move in and out of you.

You could list all the places you’ve had sex with him; in a frat party, in an empty lecture hall— hell, you’ve even gone as far as fucking in the shower stall with him in the male’s locker room, only because you had waited for him when the players had an extended practice from the coach.

The cocky, rough sex in his car after his team won a match? That was just the cherry on top. 

All because you two couldn’t find a meeting place without everyone else's peering eyes, making it harder to hook up. 

At first, you were sure you had only entertained him because of the banging part but my god, the number of butterflies in your stomach every time he winked in your direction in the field, or when you were sick, he had discreetly visited your dorm through your window in the middle of the night to see if you were okay. 

Falling in love wasn't on your agenda, and as much as you hate the cheerleading club, you weren’t looking for trouble, yet he was exactly one. 

When the feelings were growing more than just sexual intimacy, the emotions took over. He kissed you passionately on the lips that it wasn't humanly possible for someone to show love through action alone, but this was Jay we’re talking about; he was able to make the impossible possible. 

With that remark, you found yourself making love with him that night, and the boyfriend-girlfriend relationship between you two was kept under public scrutiny, even with your teammates and friends. 

Or so you thought. 

“I think I kinda know who Jay's mysterious girlfriend is.” 

A chorus of hard coughing emitted from your throat when you choked on your drink, causing Gauel to look at you worryingly. The loud bass of the frat party almost swallowed her voice down. 

“You okay, Y/N?” 

You wave her off, closing your mouth to control the fits. “I’m— I’m fine. Who is it? I mean, who’s Jay’s girlfriend?” You nonchalantly ask, but the panic clawing in your chest starts to hurt. 

She gave you a once-over before replying. “Yeonjin from the drama club. Apparently, she used to pin him for months now. The other cheerleaders kinda conspiracies that it might be her.” 

Okay, you always hear gossip between your teammates, but why is this the first time you’ve heard it? 

Yes, you both agreed it was a good charade to tell people— talking about your significant other like separate entities as if you weren’t dating each other. A reasonable excuse for many advances and open invitations that includes your friend’s antics. 

However, you were starting to regret doing it because you have a feeling that your teammates aren’t the only people with a blabbermouth. If not, there wouldn’t be a hunt for Jay Park’s alleged girlfriend among the student body. 

You sighed, moving deeper into the foyer to give way to the drunk students walking down the stairs. “We should stop snooping around like this. There’s a reason why he wants to keep his girlfriend a secret in the first place.” 

You gave her a pointed look before continuing. “Such as from people like you.” 

“Come on, Y/N!” Gaeul exasperated, leaning in to give you a lethal combo of puppy eyes and pouty lips that you know so well. “Aren’t you at least a teensy weensy curious about who she is?” 

“No.” You deadpanned, using your index finger to poke at her forehead, successfully pushing her away from your personal space. “What I’m interested in is getting more alcohol so I won’t hear whatever nonsense you’re spouting next.” 

Gauel frowned. “You suck.” 

You snort, raising your red cup at her mockingly as you head towards the kitchen. It was a much less crowded area. You could spot slightly more sober students chatting away while mixing a concoction of mocktails to dare each other to chug. After pouring yourself a cup of soda to clear your head, you lean against the cabinet, deep in thought. 

The sound of music and revelry blast through the kitchen when the door opens, followed by its absence when the person steps into the room. 

You kept glancing at the new presence through your lashes. A sharp tanned jawline, slick back raven hair and clothes fitting him deliciously well that got you biting on your lower lip. When he looks around and catches your figure, his eyes glint in pleasure with a small smirk. 

“Hey.” He greeted flirtatiously once he was close. 

“I have a boyfriend.” You impassively respond against the cup's rim without sparing him a glance. 

His chuckle was deep, almost tugging at your heartstrings. “Must be a stupid boyfriend for leaving his beautiful girlfriend alone.” He leaned against the cabinet adjacent to you, placing his red cup on the marbled surface. 

“You have no idea,” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms around your chest. “He hasn’t taken me out on dates for weeks. Too preoccupied with the other love of his life.”

You baited back, accentuating the last few words to insinuate one particular sport he played. The grip on your cup tightens when he pushes himself off, moving close to tower over your height. 

“Then what does he have to do to make it up to you?” He whispered curiously, peering down and boring his dark eyes with yours until you couldn’t break the trance he had on you. 

When he places both hands on the surface behind you, caging you in only his addicting scent and his face so close that it becomes hard to breathe, you become overly conscious that the students in the room would notice the both of you.  

The proximity of the sight would paint the whole picture perfectly.

“D-Don’t…..” You warned meekly, but your mouth went numb when he leaned so close that if he moved even an inch more, your lips would collide and erupt into flames from the dormant amber. The alcohol in your veins told you to kiss him, but your head was actively fighting to prevent that. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Does he have to be on his knees?” Your eyes followed how he sensually wet his lower lip with his tongue. Your heart was beating against your ribcage at the sight, biting the inside of your cheeks.

He tilted his head to the side, his breath fanning the high points of your cheeks. “Looking up at you while his mouth works between those trembling legs?” 

Shit, shit, shit— 

“Jay, not here." You place a palm against his chest to retaliate, finding the strength to lower your face to the ground. "Please.” You added with a shaky voice, swallowing down the lump of saliva with your eyes closed. 

There was a slight stillness and tension in the air before you heard the creaking noise of the cabinet above you.

“Relax, Y/N.” He reassures you softly. The weight of his proximity dissipates, and you finally breathe a breath of relief. He moves away to stand in front of you with a bottle of alcohol. 

“Just getting something above you.” He winks and breaks into a grin when you give him an annoyed frown.

Of course, he’ll use every opportunity to tease the shit out of you, but the beating of your heart never ceases, even after his little farce riles you up. You were glad that the dimmed lights hid the flush on your cheeks. 

“Asshole.” You muttered spitefully behind a hand.

He poured the liquid into his cup before filling up yours as well. He chose to ignore you cursing at him with a little smile. 

“If you ever find yourself getting bored while waiting for your boyfriend tonight,” He says, slowly backing away while still facing you. “You’ll know where to find me.” He gave you a quick once over before trudging away into the party. 

With him no longer here, you feel the emptiness you felt for the last two weeks without him sinking in. 

You turned to the left and saw the group of students still preoccupied with their recreational stuff, the amount of alcohol making them more delirious and loud. Good, you thought before grabbing the drink to go and search for your friend— waiting for the time to pass until the whole party was intoxicated. 

When the humidity of the place starts to smell like liquor and the students begin to lose themselves in the music in the dead of night, you carefully make your way up to the second floor. You’ve sneaked here many times before, knowing where each door leads. 

You’ve made sure to control how much you drank but can’t help feeling tipsy with Gaeul constantly dragging you for shots of vodka. Opening the door to a familiar bedroom makes you feel more agitated and nervous. 

Jay’s taste in decoration was the definition of suave; the room was polished and slick, much like its owner. You remember the first time he tangled you in his bed sheets or when you spent hours making out on his black leather sofa— the one he was sitting on right now.

“I take it that your boyfriend ditched you?” Jay calls out. 

He sat casually spread on the seat with his jacket thrown over the channel back. The loose t-shirt he wore hung over his board body, and the same red cup in the kitchen was placed on the coffee table. Classic Jay— he was waiting for you to come to him. 

“You should really stop with the act.” You replied, climbing to sit on his lap and straddling your legs on either side. 

Jay’s face twists into content, welcoming you to him by circling his hands around your waist. “Makes me feel like I’m really cheating on you right now.” You pouted, letting your fingers trace his exposed neck to his visible collarbone.

His hands cup your face, bringing you down until your forehead touches. He smelled compulsively musky with a hint of pungent booze at the end. 

“Sorry, love.” He whispered sweetly, but his eyes were filled with dark flickers. “I can’t help it when you look so damn cute when you’re flustered.” You wrap your hands around his neck. 

“Fucking tease.” You whispered back. He smiled effortlessly. 

“A tease only for you.” 

You could feel the serotonin kicking the moment he captured your lips. He felt slightly warm, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. Your mouth dances with him in unison; the initial passion turns into obsession when the both of you realize how much you missed the taste of each other’s lips. 

His hand creeps up past your shirt, groping the sensitive skin of your sides. It made you moan softly in his mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue into you. You dug deeper into his lap, fingers gripping the raven locks of his hair, feeling absolutely drunk in his arms. 

The wet sound of saliva echoed throughout the room— two mouths continued to bite, suck, nibble and pant against one another. Your hips moved on their own, slowly rocking your clothed core on his bulge. The tight confinement of your bra came loose, falling to the floor before feeling his fingers pinching your hardened nipples.  

It was getting hot, and you were breathless when he broke the wet kiss. He was staring at you with hooded eyes as he continued to grope your breast underneath your shirt. 

“I fucking miss you so much.” He confessed, moving to attack your neck with wonton kisses. You hold him tighter by the hair, pulling your head back to give him more space. “You’re always on my mind. Your smile, your voice, your body. You’re driving me crazy every second, my love.” 

You whimpered, feeling him growing harder as he professed his undying agony for the past two weeks. He moves down to place his hands on your ass, encouraging you to keep humping on his hard-on while he licks your lower jawline. 

“Miss you too, baby.” You press your lips close to his ears, purposely moaning lewdly for only him to hear. “I’m always thinking about you, while I’m eating, while I’m in class, while I’m in my—“ 

You paused. “—while I’m in my bed at night.” 

The sentence came out more sensually than you meant, causing Jay to pull away to look at you. He saw the bashfulness in your expression before he morphed into realization at the innuendo of your words. 

“Did you touch yourself?”

When you didn’t answer him, he took that as confirmation. He inhales a sharp breath, and you can feel his fingers digging into your bare ass underneath your skirt, causing you to gasp and look at him. His jaw was slack, and his eyes were swimming with desire yet curious at the new revelation. 

“Show me.”

It wasn’t a request but a demand— a demand you couldn't refuse when he looked at you like a starved man. So you move out of his lap, sitting on the coffee table while facing him, removing your shirt to let your boobs bounce out. 

Fondling your breasts, you let out a whiny moan when you roll your puffy nipples with your thumb, the way you always do while you masturbate to the thought of him. It didn’t help that your mounds were already sore to the touch at his ministrations a second ago. 

Jay was really enjoying the sight, removing his shirt while keeping his eyes on you. 

His body was carved like a Greek god— beautiful taunt muscles at every region with a sun-kissed glow; watching his biceps flex as he loosened his belt and pulled his pants down. 

“I know you touch yourself more than that.” He urged from his seat, palming himself through his briefs. “Show me how you play with that pretty pussy for me.” 

His voice was like a spell— coaxing you to remove your skirt and peel your soaked panties off. Placing your feet on the table’s surface, you spread your legs to expose every inch of your pussy for only his eyes to feast. You can’t help but whimper at how he was eye fucking your entirety. 

Pushing two fingers into your mouth, you coat your fingers with saliva before slipping them between your thighs. You were drenched— every slip of your fingers between your folds spilled more juices that puddled on the crack of your ass. 

“That’s it, fuckin’ beautiful.” His muttered praises only made you moan louder, peeking through heavy eyelids as you watched him jerk his big cock to the rhythm of your fingers while the other rested at the back of his head. 

You open your legs wider, pushing two fingers into your entrance, absolutely enamoured by the feeling of him watching you finger yourself that’s making your body burn into a pile of ashes. It was not easy on him either— watching you pleasure yourself got him lightheaded and head oozing with precum. 

“Is that how you fuck that pretty pussy with your fingers, hmm? Stretching that perfect hole wide like how I would with my cock?”

“Jongseong.” You crooned desperately, falling to rest your back on the table. Your thumb found its place on your clit, rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves until your hips were bucking the air, inwardly screaming at the blinding pleasure. 

“Fuck.” He cooed, wincing as he thumbed his sensitive head. “Look at you playing with your clit. So fucking sexy. That’s how you always feel, baby, so soft and sensitive on my fingers.” 

Jay’s filthy words spurred you on, plunging your fingers until they reached the spongy spot deep within, your back arching at the pleasure of the simple movement. But it wasn’t enough; the knot in your stomach would not come undone— the only thing that could quell your thirst was him. 

You craved his cock, needing it to split you open until you forgot your name.

“Jay, it's not enough.” You begged, sitting up with every strength you had. “I need you inside of me, please.” 

He sensed your hunger, your anguish— your desperation, and didn’t spare a second to open his arms to you. 

“Come here.”  

You immediately jump to straddle his lap, trembling hands holding onto his shoulders for leverage as you grip the base of his cock to align it with your entrance. Jay hissed at your touch, hands found purchase on your sides to support your weight. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jay gently whispered, noticing how you impatiently tried to nudge the tip of his cock into your hole with frustration. “Slow down, love. I’m not going anywhere.” He cradles your cheek with both hands to pull you closer to his face, smiling softly once you look back at him. 

“Relax and don’t hurt yourself, okay? I can wait for you forever like this.” He pushed back your hair to mouth kisses just under your ear, causing your muscle to ease up at his touch, dissipating some of the eagerness that clouded your sanity. 

Taking a deep breath, you probe his tip to your hole and slowly sink his length with your eyes closed. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.”

The way he purred, those words caused you to claw at his shoulders, his girth burning your walls so deliciously that you can’t help but clench around it. He massage your ass, letting you bottom down until you sit on his lap. 

“Ah god, Jongseong, you feel so amazing.” You gritted out, moaning rapturously at how full you felt with his cock, feeling the size and length of it moulding your womb. 

“My good girl, taking my cock so perfectly.” He thrusts up, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers curled into his messy locks to steady yourself, bouncing back to the movement of his hips.

Fuck, the way his cock dragged against your velvet walls, pressing on the deepest spot that brought you solace repeatedly— you were practically melting in his arms. 

Jay’s groans vibrate against your neck, feeling you clench and unclench around his length erratically. You were throbbing endlessly until all he could fathom was your scent and your sweet moans that consumed him with the desire to fuck you senseless.  

“You’re mine.” He breathed out, lunging a hard thrust that got you screaming. He slaps your ass, digging his teeth at the base of your neck, loving how you clung to him like he was your deity. He rutted into you, cock never slipping out, not even an inch.

The sound of skin slapping overthrew the music coming from the party downstairs. 

He growled. “All fucking mine.”

“A-ah, I’m all yours.” You swallowed, pressing your lips against his ear, lapping at the outer shell with want. “My mind, my body, my pussy— I belong only to you.” 

You have awakened the carnal urge he had suppressed for so long, making him stir into a frenzy, bringing you up and slamming you down on his cock so that all you could do was succumb to your orgasm. 

You could feel the knot in your tummy come undone, bathing you in the familiar warmth you longed for. Jay kissed your lips deeply, grinding a few more times before he too came with a heavy grunt, filling you up raw with ropes of hot cum.

You were blinded with pleasure, your vision slowly giving out, and all you could feel was the force of each other’s release. 

At that moment, you prayed to whoever above to promise you that heaven would feel as good as this.  

Once the air starts to clear up and Jay finished riding you out of your orgasm, he pulls his cock out of your spent pussy, his release dripping down your inner thigh while you lay limp in his arm. You could hear the heavy panting from both sides; exhaustion finally computed in your mind. 

He started to make motions to move you into a more comfortable position to clean you up. Your heart swelled with butterflies, reminding yourself why you had fallen for him in the first place. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. “Later,” You persuade softly, inevitably stopping him from moving. “I want you to hold me closely.” 

“Okay.” He sighed, staring deep into your eyes.

It was lethal to your heart— how you could see the entire galaxy shining in the specks of his gaze. He smooths your back with the palms of his hands, lovingly pecking at the corner of your mouth. 

Your bodies fit into the compact confinements of the sofa, legs stretched out to tangle with each other. The side of your face rested on his arms, hugging him close until your bare skin touched. His other arm was draped around your waist, softly tracing the skin at the bottom of your spine. 

You're not sure how long you were staring at each other before he opened his mouth to mutter something in the embrace.

“You’re beautiful.” 

You giggled, shaking your head. “You’re more beautiful.” 

He burst into a laugh, eyes forming breathtaking crescent shapes, the afterglow of sex making him glimmer like the sun. The laughter soon quiets down, the soft sound of the bass downstairs filling the room. 

He looks at you once more, but the frown on his face catches you off guard. 

“I’m sorry I can’t spend more time with you.” He said. You recognize the guilt in his voice, pulling him closer to your body. “Just that the pressure from the coach and with all the other members being on edge with the final tournament…..”

You kiss his chest, feeling him sigh with relish at your lips on his skin. “It’s fine Jay, the last thing I want you to worry about is me. Focus on playing your best, and I’ll be there cheering once you win.”

He pushes back a strand of hair behind your ear, chuckling at your words of confidence.

“I promised to make it up to you.” His ardent oath caused you to snuggle into his chest, feeling him reciprocate your hug by placing his chin on the crown of your head. 

You mumbled close to his beating heart.

“Don't worry, I can wait for you forever like this.”

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[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

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home, Chapter 2 Part 3

A little shorter this week. I had my graduation ceremony over the weekend and the opportunity to hang out with my sister-in-law for the first time in a few months! (She and my brother moved states a few months back.) If you scroll down a bit, you'll be able to see how I decorated my graduation cap! I love how it turned out.

But you don't care about that. It's Wednesday! Time for a WIP Wednesday segment!

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1k

----------

Unable to get Tim’s attention, Conner asked, “Who’s Technus?”

Danny shrugged. “One of my rogues. Tuck thinks he’s the ghost of Nikolai Tesla. He’s interested in controlling all technology and will make himself a giant mechasuit cannibalized from any electronic he can find in, like, a half mile radius. Super annoying.”

Tim hummed. “You didn’t tell me about him being Nikolai Tesla.”

“It’s a new hypothesis of Tuck’s. He’s been trying to research all the ghosts that come through as part of our profiles on them. That involves trying to figure out who they might’ve been in life. We’re hoping it’ll help me deescalate confrontations to cut back on property damage. Thanks to my parents talking about how evil all ghosts are, no one trusts Phantom and I get blamed for everything.”

Tim reached out and squeezed Danny’s shoulder. Practically everything Danny ever said about his parents made him like them less. To change the subject before he learned something else that’d make him want to attack Jack and Maddie while they were under the same roof, he asked, “So why does ectoplasm harm electronics anyway?”

Danny seemed to lean into his touch. “Well, ectoplasm is complicated. It is generated in this dimension but doesn’t really belong here. It comes about through death and leads the way to the Ghost Zone. At least… that’s the hypothesis I think is the most likely. I’ve only really been studying it for a few months since my own accident, though.” He shook his head. “Anyway! When it interacts with things on Earth that aren’t trying to get to the Zone, things get weird. Especially with non-sentient things that can’t will the ectoplasm to act in a specific way. Even animals can exert some control over ectoplasm. But electronics can’t.”

It was only a few minutes more before Danny had completely disassembled the phone. He then grabbed another pipette and adjusted the volume and added ectoplasm to certain pieces. Then took a third size and did it all over again.

“How on earth did you find out how much to add?” asked Bart. “You’re changing quantities constantly.”

“Trial and error. Long and tedious trial and error. We tried dipping sections in the ectoplasm to start, but that generally fried the tech and mutated its function. Wires do do best with submersion, though. No more than a second or two for small ones. Even after we stopped submersion, we started by adding way too much—spreading it over the entire chip. But that also didn’t work. Realized just half a microliter applied to the connections was best. The camera, speaker, and microphone need more. Those get ten microliters apiece. And we just kept trying different amounts until we had something that worked. We ruined four phones before we started testing each component individually.”

Conner let out a low whistle. “Well we’re glad you have. Thanks for helping with this.”

“Of course. Anything for Tim.”

Tim’s face heated as Cassie laughed. “Yeah, our Tim has a way of winning people over, doesn’t he?”

“I think I won him over, actually.” Danny hung the pipette back up on the holder. “All right, now just to put this baby back together. Who’s hungry?”

“Me!” called Bart. “It’s been ages since we’ve last eaten.”

“You’ve got an accelerated metabolism, right? We’ll stop by a store and get some extra stuff if you need anything overnight or tomorrow.”

“I like you,” said Bart. “You should come with us when we leave. Join our team.”

Tim buried his face in his hands, did none of his teammates know the definition of subtlety? Offering Danny a place with the Teen Titans or Young Justice was the first thing he tried.

“Thanks for the offer, but as I’ve told Tim, I can’t leave Amity. No one else is capable of responding to ghost threats.”

Conner shook his head. “Looks like your parents have it under control.”

Danny laughed. “Oh hell no. They’ve got a lot of inventions and most of them do something. But it’s not always what they expect them to do. And dad’s aim is terrible.” As he spoke, he continued to reassemble Tim’s phone.

Tim couldn’t help but admire how expertly Danny’s fingers moved over the pieces. And before he knew it, Danny was handing the phone back to him.

“Should work now. Turn it on and double check.”

Tim took it and held the power button until the WE logo appeared. Sure enough, once the screen loaded, so did a dozen missed phone calls and even more missed texts.

Bruce, Dick, and Barbara had all attempted contact multiple times. Even Alfred had called once. He winced and immediately called Bruce back.

“Hey, B,” he said as soon as the call connected. “We’re all fine. Just crossed an area that messed with our tech.”

“How did it mess with your tech?” Bruce demanded.

“It’s normal in this area. But I’ve a local friend and he fixed my phone. He’ll take care of Conner’s, Cassie’s, and Bart’s after we grab some dinner. So if anyone else is worried, tell them we’re fine and they can call me in the meantime if they have questions.” Tim made sure to use civilian names so Bruce would know they were no longer in costume.

“Who is this ‘friend’?” asked Bruce.

“God, B, it’s fine. I’ve known him for years. We game online together when we can. Have since we were kids.”

“Hn.” Why was it so much harder to read Bruce over the phone than in person? It was so annoying. “I see. Where are you currently?”

“We’re in Illinois. Will probably stay here a day or two with Danny and his parents. And then we’ll come home and share everything about our trip.” Aka, submit an official report about the outcome of their mission.

“Very well. I expect to know all the details. And I want twice daily check-ins until you’re home.”

“Fine, fine. Will do. Bye, B.” Before Bruce could demand anything else, Tim hung up on him. Next he shot texts to Dick, Alfred, and Barbara assuring them he was fine and his phone was working again. Replies came instantly and he ignored them all. “All right, that’s done. Let’s go eat.”

---------

Next

I think this is the first time I've had an actual scene break to stop the segment at. I usually just go until I see a change in the conversation, but I've got my <hr> marker at this point and there's gonna be a scene change! (So I won't have to repeat a paragraph or two next time I post.)

You get a different explanation for ectoplasm in this fic! Wasn't planning on that, but it happened and I like it.

Hope you enjoyed.

Tag List Part 1

@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691, @channajen, @tonicmii, @ambiguouslyominous, @vythika96, @addie-lover-of-stories, @ironicvixen, @violetfox2, @pickleking8, @mysticalcomputerdetective, @ark12, @mygood-bitch99, @squirrel-wolf, @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @automaticsoulharmony, @d4ydr34min9, @revnantdpxdclover, @midigeria, @raginblastocyst

#dpxdc #tim drake #danny fenton #conner kent #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #dead tired #bart made attempt 1 to kidnap danny #it was super ineffective #tim is embarrassed

[s0lam33y]

Nonsense

A/N : i haven’t written in ages, Ik Ik 😭 i have so many WIPS that I’m not satisfied with and this has been sitting in my drafts for ages.

mechanic! riri x reader

🔧: @pvnks0ul @kissvamps @ririshotgf

“Ion know what her problem is anyway.” Riri sighs . She just finished giving you all the details of her dad’s side of the family. More specifically, Her cousin, Gina who is especially messy and the two of you couldn’t make it to Chicago this year to watch her and her husband argue like they do every year. He’s an absolute sweetheart and she still manages to give him a hard time.

“You think that could ever be us?” You ask Riri as you watch her move around the garage. She doesn’t spare a glance at you while she looks into her toolbox. The two of you are freshly married, having dated for four years before tying the knot. In the past 6 months of your marriage, you'd say that things have barely changed. It feels the same as when you were dating.

She looks too good, her jumpsuit zipped half way and The top half of it dropped at her hips. Her hands are covered in motor oil, her bicep muscles clenching and unclenching as she digs through the toolbox.

You decided to stop by, offer her a cherry coke while she works. You take your place in the corner of the garage, sitting on a bean bag as you watch her.

“Hell no.” She chuckles, grabbing a wrench from her toolbox and placing it in one of the deep pockets of her Navy blue jumpsuit. You've always loved watching her work, whether it's her screwing metal together for a better suit or this, watching her work on cars.

“We ain’t like Gina and her man. We like you and me, and we don’t argue like that. I’ve never yelled at you the way she be in that man’s ear.” Riri says with a small laugh. You watch her wipe the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand since the front of it is slathered in motor oil.

She’s not wrong. You two have had your disagreements but Riri’s never been one to yell, however you’ve watched her hold back. You on the other hand…It’s a different story but it’s still a work in progress, nothing she can’t handle.

“She gives him a hard time.” You sigh, a small amount of guilt making it’s way to your chest as you think of the couple. He always looks so miserable.

“Maybe, maybe not, maybe he’s a dick in secret.” Riri shrugs. She doesn’t speak of her Dad often let alone his side of the family and when you do see them, they’re either arguing or gossiping about something.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t think she yellin’ for no reason, baby. Maybe he did something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.” She states, a little amused now as she thinks of a multitude of reasons as to why that man is constantly getting scolded.

“It’s not funny.” You scold which only makes her laugh a little harder. She looks at you only to approach you and sit beside you. There’s barely any space for both of you on a singular bean bag so she lifts hooks her arms beneath your knees and back to place you on her lap.

“Tell me, that shit ain’t funny, They was arguing over mowing the lawn.” She grins as she takes a sip of glass of coke you had bright over for her. As much as she says she hates the gossip, she’s always been one to find it entertaining.

“All I’m saying is it’s a bit sad, don’t you think?” You sigh. They’ve been married for years and you can’t help but wonder if they’ve grown tired of each other, rather if you would ever be in that position.

“A little, but I ain’t arguing over some stupid shit like mowing the lawn.” She huffs while glancing at you. She looks to the side, wondering if you’ve zoned out or not.

“What I say?”

You both burst into laughter soon after, you could never get tired of her.

#riri williams #riri x reader #riri williams x reader

[pink-onyx-au]

[Jump to the Episode Master List]

Nap time! Thank you everyone for your continued support and interaction! I adore it and it adds so much more to the AU than you could know. This is a heads up on some minor down-time for the blog while I rest up and prepare the next episode.

Notes and asks are still open and encouraged during this time! Bored and want to chat? Send me a message!

To see some WIP, storyboard previews, doodles, shitposts, and other projects I’m working on, along with a healthy amount of 3am memes, head over to my trash fire blog, Ceephor’s Shit Show. The "pink onyx au" tag will filter everything for you, along with showing you fabulous fan art made by others that I just love to pieces.

Speculation and theories are encouraged! The comic is designed as close to the show’s logic as I could muster, which means many secrets are staring right at you, provided you know what to look for! Just be kind to one another.

Comic FAQ:

What is this? Pink Onyx AU is a Steven Universe AU focused on interactions between Steven and Jasper and is intended to be read after you have finished Steven Universe Future, as it contains many many spoilers for the series. If you have watched it already, great! Welcome! The goal is to bring you a Jasper redemption arc that we couldn’t get due to time and cooperate restraints on the Crewniverse. I hope you enjoy!

I do not own these characters or their likenesses except for the single fluffy thembo fusion I created for the story. This is just a fan comic.

Comic is PG-13 for some angsty themes, minor blood, violence, and gem-cussing.

When do you post? Typically when you see this post pinned, I’m on a bit of a break, but when Nyx wakes up (this post goes away) the comic is due to be released 1 page at a time at 7am EST most days. I try for a daily release. Sometimes I skip a day if I’m behind. Episode release dates are always announced ahead of time by a few weeks.

Is this a romantic ship AU between Jasper and Steven? Nope, more like an aunt and her nephew trying to figure it all out. No romance between these two here.

Is your Tapas updated at the same time? Nope, tumblr comes first, and the tumblr will always have bonus content which Tapas will not. The Tapas for this updates after the tumblr version is completed. Usually same day or within a day.

Curious about the characters? Check below the cut for more a detailed FAQ about the inner workings of the story. Love you all! See you soon! 🧡💕❤️

FAQ’s about the characters generated via interactive asks:

What kind of fusion is Pink Onyx? Are they good or bad? Pink Onyx is a fusion of a protagonist and an antagonist, so their alliance is yet unknown, but they have Steven’s good heart and Jasper’s loyal nature. They also have Steven and Jasper’s flaws, so they can be volatile and emotionally explosive at times, too.

What are Pink Onyx’s pronouns? Onyx likes they/them, but also answers to he/him and she/her, especially when Steven or Jasper is dominant over one another. They also seem to take on a fluid role and prefer a she/her when in a caretaker status. They dislike it/its.

What does Pink Onyx sound like? Personally, I hear them as a youthful, masculine tone. Like Steven if a little older. But I also enjoy when people say they hear them as a gruff, Amazonian-type feminine. I enjoy and endorse both.

Do Jasper and Steven enjoy being fused to one another? For now, it is a struggle, but they enjoy what the other brings to the fusion even if they won’t say it.

Does Pink Onyx need to eat and do human things? If so, do they enjoy it? They don’t need to do them, but they do feel the discomfort without them. Things like breathing, eating, and sleeping are optional for Onyx, but they will become quite irritable if not allowed to do them. They greatly enjoy sleeping and trying new foods.

What does Jasper think about having human organs when fused? She’s pretty grossed out by the idea of organic matter going into her mouth and coming out of other places. The heart beating and lungs breathing she can feel for the first time, and it is highly strange for her to experience.

What is Pink Onyx’s favorite food? They adore anything watermelon flavored and Cookie-cat ice cream products

Does Pink Onyx have any special fusion powers? They do, and as they learn about themselves, more powers seem to come out. Each of their base component appears to be enhanced in a unique way. They have Pink Diamond at their core, so the destructive potential is also there.

Why is Steven hiding Pink Onyx from others? This AU occurs directly after the events of "I Am My Monster", so Steven is very emotionally, and mentally, raw. He fears judgement for running back to Jasper, who in the past, was part of so much trauma he already endured.

Pink Onyx seems to know nothing about human culture and gem culture despite being a fusion. What’s going on? Jasper and Steven agreed to fuse, but they have yet to open up to one another about much else. The fusion exists because they agree to do so, but Jasper won’t open up about her emotions, and Steven is so sensitive yet that he is not sharing because he knows Jasper won’t want to hear it. This causes Onyx to be unable to access both of their memories easily, but they can bring it out with enough effort.

#pink onyx au #steven universe au #steven universe #steven universe future #c423art #ceephorart #pink onyx #fusion #jasper #steven #Nyx nap #faq

[myguiltyartpleasure]

Cozy games recommendations!

@dualcordie asked for recs, I have quite number of them, so here it is.

It turned out to be stardew-like collection, but I'll do more posts for other types of games. I added only those, which I personally played and liked

Stardew Valley

PC, PS, iOS, Xbox, Nintendo switch. (I've played for 390 hours 😅) Classics! Kind of created a new game genre of "stardew-like" games. But In case you haven't played: you're a new farmer in small town. It's not just farming, you can also make friends with locals (and even date someone), mine gems, fight monsters, discover forest spirits and fight evil corporation. Also you can find out about townfolks' secrets, depressive problems and subtle stuff. It has a huge community with lots of mods, so if you missed this game - you should really try it!

Haunted Chocolatier

WIP by SV developer and release date still wasn't announced. Still worth mentioning. I guess concept is in its name

Coral Island

PC, more platforms announced. (mine ~260 hours before official release in early access) Developers of this game were HEAVILY inspired by Stardew Valley, so it's basically the same idea, but you're on the island. Additionally to previous game's activities you also have diving, healing the ocean, adopting pets and more interactive annual events. It was officially released on November, 14 this year. It is still fresh and developers listen to players' suggestions. Some of the most popular SV mods are implemented in this game officially. Highly recommended for those who miss something stardew-like

Potion Permit

PC, macOS (mine ~ 36 hours) Same concept, but you're an alchemist. You're creating potions by solving puzzles, healing locals and environment as well. Same with romances, monsters. Probably something else, but I haven't played it for some time and stuff were added since then

Slime Rancher

PC, PS, xbox, Nintendo Switch (can't find amount of hours)

You're on another planet and you're running.. well, slime ranch! You need to catch them, breed different kinds, feed them and collect plorts to sell. There are some dangers in the wild, but not much and you can switch it off. Be careful - they can destroy the whole ranch and create chaos! No social aspect, it's just you, cute hungry slimes, chicken and some guy's logs

#cozy games #cozy gaming #stardew valley #coral island #potion permit #slime rancher