#i might change that tag actually now that it has a title

[fag4dykestobin]

i haaaave been working on my blaseball au outline (it even has a name now woah (its called "snow shouldn't fall like this")) in sporadic bursts but the problem is that i keep drifting to steve and robin's dynamic and just moving them around in my brain like dolls instead of thinking about the plot. anyway they're childhood friends after they were trapped in a burning building together. i don't think i'll ever find a reason to actually write that out but it feels important to speak into the world

[the-mandawhor1an]

Have a taste - Mand'alor!Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

reader can look however you want her to, there are no physical features mentioned, the images are for vibes only

Synopsis: Din is mesmerized by the changes your body has gone through after giving birth to your first child. He's taking special interest in your boobs this fateful evening.

Words: 1.7k

THIS IS ACTUAL, EXPLICIT SMUT! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS IS YOUR WARNING!

A/N: I blame unhinged discord convos for this. My first proper smutty smut. This was interesting to say the least. Yeah, the images are medicore photoshop, they display the vibes perfectly, though. Thank you @evolnoomym for beta-ing and encouraging me that this filth is not utter shit.

Tags: explicit language; unprotected PiV; lactation/breastfeeding kink; itty bitty breeding kink; established relationship; reader is afab and has given birth; reader has boobs; reader is a force user;

divider and support banner made by @saradika-graphics; title banner made by yours truly

Having children sounded so hard in theory. Exhausting, long days and short nights with constant disturbances. Long recovery, emotions, pain. In reality, you were fortunate to say, it turned out so much better. 

The physical part was easy. You were a Jedi after all, so your body could bounce back pretty fast – thank the force for healing powers. Although, it was only made possible because of the devotion of your husband to support you where he could. Now that his son was here, he was glued to the newborn whenever you needed to rest, ensuring ‘mama’ was healthy. 

To be fair, Mand’alor Djarin enjoyed boasting about his son and how proud he was of you enduring all of the discomfort during your pregnancy, all of your pains and cravings, and even the birth. You were the strongest warrior he’s ever known. He had told you more than once. 

He loved you deeply and dearly, as he loved the child you had given him. A little mix of him and you. While babies were mostly soft and squishy and their facial features were barely visible, your son had his father’s eyes. And his nose looked suspiciously like your own, just smaller and still a little chubby. Every time you saw Din with your son, how in love he was with this small human, you wanted to do it all over again. 

And you would. 

With the child fed and sound asleep, you and your husband finally had some much needed time for yourselves. Time to focus on the little joys of marital life you had craved for so long.

You sat on his lap, his cock deeply embedded in you, as you rolled your hips against his. He was propped up against some pillows so he was halfway upright, both of your hands on his chest while his held onto your hips. Perhaps it was too soon to return to having sex, but your body was technically healed, no matter how recently you might have given birth. It couldn’t be soon enough, you had been yearning for him ever since your belly had become too big to find any comfortable position to make love in.

As good as it felt to finally get what you wanted, Din’s demeanor was off-putting, to say the least. Usually he was very vocal, blessing you with moans and little praises, which were completely missing this time around. As soon as you had sat down on him and lifted your shirt, it was like he was somewhere else entirely. You had hoped he would fall back into his ways, but no matter how hard you squeezed him, nothing besides a single grunt had escaped his lips. 

Frustrated, you sighed, halted your movements and looked down to his face. »Do I not feel good?« you asked and rested a hand on his cheek. Like he was shaken out of his trance, his dark eyes found you and he furrowed his brows. »I’m sorry, cyar’ika. I’m…« He didn’t finish his sentence, unsure what to tell you.

Something was wrong and it stung a bit that he didn’t tell you. »Do you want me to stop?« you asked. His hands detached from your hip to caress over your skin, his thumbs tracing over your upper belly. »No.« You huffed and tilted your head to the side. »I’m getting mixed signals, cyare. What are you thinking about?« 

His hands wandered upwards until they rested just under your boobs. He lifted them gently, well aware that you were probably sensitive. They had grown significantly now that you were breastfeeding, but the weight that temporarily lifted off of you made you sigh and lean into his touch. 

You felt his cock twitch inside of you when he touched your supple flesh. »Do you like them?« you asked when you finally connected the dots. You felt him scan every last bit of your chest and continued »I’m sorry, I’m a little lopsided. Ad’ika only really latches onto the left one.« »Do they hurt?« His eyes were glued to your breasts while you talked. You didn’t mind as you finally had his attention. »The nipple is a bit sore. And the right one … well. I feel like it’ll burst soon. I’m a little afraid I will get an obstruction if he doesn’t accept that one soon.« 

Din carefully squeezed your breasts, but flinched when you whined. He just wanted to feel them, their weight and how tight they were, it was never his intention to hurt you. Still, that little squeeze made him groan. »Does an obstruction hurt?« he asked. You nodded. »It hurts and I could get an infection from that. Not necessarily life threatening but I’d like to avoid it at all cost.« His eyes were still staring at your breast and you chuckled. »Do you want a taste, my love?« His eyes shot up to yours again, shimmering, reminding you of a puppy. »You’re joking, right?« You shook your head. »I know a hungry baby when I see one, believe me. Besides… if that’s what’ll keep me from being in pain, go ahead.« 

»But… I’m not…« Din stammered, flustered by your offer. Maybe you were a little more relaxed about that than he was. You were terribly horny and if that’s what got him off, why not? It’s not like you would tell anyone. 

You placed your right hand onto his, effectively guiding him to massage your boob until you felt a drop of milk collecting on your nipple. You picked it up with your index finger and guided it to his mouth. »Open up,« you purred and watched in delight as he parted his lips. Your finger slipped past and touched his tongue. You felt another twitch in his cock as you pulled back. A second drop of milk fell from you and dripped onto his stomach. 

»How is it?« 

You were curious. It’s not like your son could tell you what it tasted like. And to be fair, tasting yourself is nothing that had come to your mind until now. »You’re sweet,« he groaned. Undeniably, that turned him on, to have you dripping for him from more than one spot now. He straightened his back to kiss along your collarbone, slowly working his lips down your breast. »Sweeter than your cunt. Intoxicating.« The stubble on his face was a little rough for your skin, but you liked the subtle burn it left. His tongue dragged over your nipple before another drop could fall, and you both softly moaned. 

»Please, fuck me cyar’ika,« he pleaded as he latched onto your breast, sucking until you felt some of the pressure release. 

As if you were distracted by the situation and needed to be pulled back to reality, his hands grabbed your hips again and guided you to move while he growled against your flesh. Now you twitched around him, earning another groan and a »move,« before he practically buried half of his face in your breast. 

Holding onto his shoulder and the back of his head, you lifted your hips and moved as best as you could without making him have to detach from you. Something about him hanging onto you for dear life, holding onto your hips so hard it would leave bruises and growling whenever he feared you’d unlatch him made your heart flutter and your orgasm approach so much faster. 

You weren’t the only one affected by this situation, as his deep moans vibrated into your chest and you felt him writhe underneath you. His hands practically slammed you down onto his cock, the tip kissing your cervix just how you needed. You wouldn’t last long like this, and he wouldn’t either. As much as you might regret the roughness you were subjecting your body to in this current moment, something primal took over. You were too sensitive and feeling every breath he took, every little noise he made, on your skin sent shivers down your whole body. You felt the tense buildup in your core, your breath quickening as more and more noises stumbled from your puffy lips. 

»Cyar’ika I won’t last long,« you managed to press forward in between moans, only hearing grunts from him in response. »I love you so much. So much,« you whined, overtaken by the sensations and tears forming in your eyes. You’ve never felt so overstimulated before. »Please give me another baby, Din. Please,« you begged your husband in desperation, not able to stop the babbling as you feared you would lose your mind. 

That was it. His nails dug into your skin as he pulled you down, reaching as deep as he could, pushing his hip up from the mattress to nudge himself right into your cervix as he pumped his seed inside of you. The noises he made were feral, somewhere in between a growl, a whine, and a muffled moan, increasing in volume with every twitch he made inside of you. 

You didn’t come, but you were fine with that for the time being. Your thoughts raced around the little confession you had made just now. You knew it was too soon to try for another baby and this was the first time you had ever spoken that wish out loud. Judging by his reaction he was on board, but you needed to talk about that in earnest. 

With a pop he unlatched from your breast and looked up at you. It seemed like tears were sparkling in the corners of his eyes as well. »You want another baby?« he whispered. His voice was so soft and fragile, it almost made you cry. »When the time is right,« you replied and cupped his cheeks in your hands, resting your forehead against his. »I doubt I can get pregnant again so quickly.« 

He straightened his back to kiss you. You tasted the remainder of yourself on his tongue, and he was right – you were sweet. When your lips parted, he sounded a little more like himself again, warm and raspy. »You didn’t cum, my love.« 

»It’s okay,« you reassured him and pressed another kiss onto his lips. »But I want you to,« he groaned and pressed more kisses along your jaw, nibbling on your skin in between kisses. »I want to fuck another baby into you right now,« he whispered against your skin. »I’d like to see you try.« »Oh I will try, I promise.« 

little translation for the Mando'a phrases:

Cyar'ika - Darling

Cyare - Beloved

Ad'ika - endearing term for a child

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 1,820

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji's birthday! this piece was originally titled as "adoration" but I changed it to this instead. I'm taking a small posting break, but I'll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and I'm sending all my well wishes out to you! xo

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he's oh so in love

toji overstayed his welcome which was only supposed to last the scorching heat of summer, but he found himself lingering through the quiet stillness of fall. winter came in with a brisk chill and gloomy skies, and that's when toji knew it was time for him to end things with you.

he’s lost interest far quicker in previous relationships. they served their purpose of healing over the wound in his heart, of soothing away the ache of loneliness. he oftens forgets that he was once a loyal, loving husband whenever he abandons yet another fling.

the difference, however, is he at least had the guts to verbally cut things off before.

fucking pathetic, he thinks as he scolds himself. he's been a coward, reducing his actions to disappearing before the sunlight peeks through the horizon, and avoiding any chance of waking you up. he ensures that he is never there to see the way your brows furrow with concern when your hand meets the cold pillow, because otherwise he would falter in his attempt to escape.

this has been going on for over two weeks now but last night was the first time you've actually snapped at his cold, detached behavior. he approached the argument with nonchalance to wither you down, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and then walking out halfway through the fight.

he stayed at a motel thinking that maybe you have finally taken the hint that he's done.

he arrives back to his apartment only to be met with unfamiliar silence. the entrance of his home is dark and lifeless, and it's so quiet he can even hear a pin drop. there's a tightness in his chest, followed by a wave of disappointment that runs over him like a feverish shiver.

despite his hard headed decision, he's still anticipating on hearing your lovely voice to greet him as he walks through the door.

he knows it's selfish.

toji expected many things to happen after last night's fight. he figured the reaction to him leaving you (again) would be far bigger. a screaming phone call or a string of cursing text messages to call him out on his shitty behavior.

after all he deserves it for acting like an insufferable asshole.

he tries to swallow his guilt but it remains lodged in his throat when he acknowledges that this might actually be the end. 

the expression on his features falls.

it’s better this way, he consoles, dragging his feet across the floor to approach his kitchenette. he shrugs off his beaten up, oversized coat and tosses it over one of the chairs. he opens one of the cupboards, and grabs a mug to prepare himself a cup of tea.

she’s too young to settle for a guy like me, he continues. widowed with two kids who he barely sees anymore, working paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet…

a deadbeat.

he exhales, swirling his brew in his ceramic cup. the aroma of sweet leaves dances up the spiral of steam to kiss his nose.

she deserves more than me.

he places the kettle down but stares at the cup mindlessly, losing all train of thought as his hands grip onto the edge of the counter. 

he can acknowledge that his insecurities are clouding his judgement on something truly special, even though this was only ever meant to be purely physical.

except, the sex was growing more intimate. the experience wasn't about pleasure for him anymore. he would find himself losing all focus to the depth of your pretty eyes, stealing kiss after kiss like your mouth was the source of where all his happiness belongs.

belonged.

belonged.

it’s over now, he thinks again. it has to be.

a faint patter of footsteps distracts him, prompting him to ease his hold on the counter as the muscles on his face relax. his heart steadies itself, and he draws in a breath when he feels two arms delicately twine around his waist.

“you’re...still here...” he points out in shock. 

he feels you press your forehead into his back. “of course, where else would I be?” 

he clears his throat to release the guilt then spins on his heel to face you.

"I thought you might have taken off," he bluntly states as he rests his lower back against the counter.

his heart swells, emanates flurries of golden sparks when he meets your gorgeous irises. the will to carry on with his decision crumbles when he catches the corner of your mouth tick into a slight grin.

"I thought about it," you reply casually, loosening your grip to place your palms flat on the side of his stomach. "but the truth is I'm worried about you and I just…want to talk things out…make sure you're okay...”

“I’m the one acting like a jerk and you’re worried about me?” he blurts.

you quirk your brow at the slip of his question. “so, you know you’re acting like a jerk?”

toji’s eyes widen slightly, a hint of pink tainting his cheek. “I asked the question first.”

you purse your lips playfully, aware of the crack that's been revealed and ready to swing once again with another blow.

“it’s because you’re acting like a jerk that I’m worried about you,” you explain, “you’re not yourself when you’re unsettled about something…”

his face warms, the hue of pink deepening into a stronger blush. the familiarity of pointing out his personal traits feels all too homely. seven months shouldn’t feel like a forever but in this bubble with you time ceases to exist.

you trail the pads of your finger tips up his torso, your hands clasping around the back of his neck as you press all your soft and sweet parts right up against the frame of his body.

the brush of your lips on his scar prompts him to flutter his eyes close. he fails to stop himself from holding you then, his firm hands reaching for the outline of your waist

“so,” you murmur with a tempting kiss as you return to your question, “you know you’re acting like a jerk then?”

please don’t make me say it, he thinks, please don’t make me unravel right in front of your eyes.

he squeezes your side, whispering a defeated “listen…”

“did I do something wrong?” you question, a hint of pain laced through every vowel which only makes his heart ache further. “did something happen?”

toji shakes his head.

“it’s not you,” he grumbles. “look, you asked me a couple of weeks ago if this thing between us was serious and…it shouldn’t be.”

you narrow your gaze, tilting your head with adorable confusion that makes toji want to kiss you right there on the spot.

he can feel you pluck at the fabric of his sweater nervously, “why not?”

toji drops his head and sighs.

“c’mon, doll, let’s be real. I’ve got nothing to give you other than a good fuck in this shitty apartment. you're better off finding someone else and I don't want to waste your time”

you press your mouth into a firm line. “your behavior…” you reply, nipping your bottom lip slightly as you gather your thoughts. “are you acting like this because you…want to end things with me?”

toji has never felt smaller. you’ve reduced him into a shriveled pea rolling around his scuffed up boot. “look, it’s better this way, alright?” he admits with a raise of his head, still refusing to outwardly say what you easily deduced. “it's better to move on before things get too complicated…”

the silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension so thick toji feels like he can’t breathe properly. his heart rattles with no restraint, and he finds himself suddenly lightheaded. an apology rests on the tip of his tongue, ready to take back everything he just bombarded you with but his throat simply tightens once more when your hands cradle his strong jaw.

“I like your apartment,” you quietly speak, “your bed sheets always smell so good, and you fixed the water pressure after I complained that it sucked…”

toji blinks back his surprise.

“I also notice that you burn the candle that I got you and that you switched laundry detergents when your old one gave me that weird rash,” you giggle and toji couldn’t help but huff out an embarrassed laugh himself. “the windows let in the best kind of sunlight, and it’s always so cozy in here…”

you press your lips against his mouth to leave a chaste kiss, “as for the company…” you add on, nuzzling the tip of your nose over his, “I consider you more than just a good fuck.”

toji can physically feel himself wilting underneath the heat of your gaze. “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”

"you can look out for me by making me breakfast instead of running away from me..."

he looks serious but his eyes are sincere, holding a level of tenderness that he only reserves for you. his palm moves to seek out your lower back, a hint of pressure pulling you back into his warmth.

your lover has stayed tight lipped about his past, but over his period with you he's found himself spilling out a few secrets here and there.

"I haven't done this in a long time," he vulnerably admits.

"I know," you reassure him, "but...the real question is, do you want this?"

he parts his lips ready to seal the last nail in the coffin, ready to give you the chance to walk out of his life for good. but you're gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes, your determined stare an opening of your own mercy. your plush, supple lips summoning his cowardice into oblivion.

"toji?"

his breath hitches, his apprehension silenced by the urgency of his desire.

you're so lovely, he thinks. you feel like home.

"I want you," he reveals, his deep voice smoky and untethered, releasing enough sentiment in those three words that he can feel you tremble in his arms. "I just don't deserve you. I don't want you getting caught up in my bullshit..."

""you're a lot sweeter than you look, you know?" you run your fingers through the streaks of his black hair, combing it back to reveal his forehead. "you deserve to be happy, toji, and...and I think I can make you happy..."

your aura beams with delight when he flashes you a wolfish grin in return. a smile you've grown to adore so deeply. his apology comes in the form of a kiss, one that's gentle and slow. a stroke of fire burns up the back of your neck, making you quiver in places when he glides his tongue across yours. you hum softly into his lips while he releases a content sigh, the barrier he's been keeping up turns to ashes beneath your feet.

[kissmetwicekissmedeadly]

MIDNIGHT CINDERELLA MEMORIAL POST

The Midnight Cinderella app will be closed on Monday August 26th, 2024 (5 PM JST). The English version was actively updated from 2014 to 2021 when Cybird announced the ceasing of operations for MidCin, but the app remained accessible until today. I'm sure I'm not the only one who mourns the loss of it even after all these years of discontinuation, so I wanted to put together a post to properly say goodbye to it. Trying my best not to make it all too sappy - I'd rather look at it as a show that reached its final episode. Some things might be left unresolved but in the end, you remember the cast and the emotions they made you feel more than the actual plot. Nowadays there arguably may be better titles by Cybird out there, but for me, the simplicity of MidCin was what made the details so memorable.

1. VIDEO - POV: You're playing Midnight Cinderella (for 10 minutes)

The 10-minute version (without sound) is accessible via the link above (opens in Google Docs) This one I was really excited about recording! It's just your normal day playing midcin, I'm sure many will find it nostalgic and comforting. You log in, claim your daily bonus (I used the chance to do a present box reveal, 90+ items, many of which you might recognize from route grace checks), play the garden gacha (in my case, I used up all the points I had accumulated, 7800 which equals 39 solos), do your princess lessons, change your avatar, greet your friends, read 1/5 of today's free story parts, check the ranking and your stats, look at your memories directory. The video has no sound, as the game wouldn't let me turn it on (you will see me try to do so throughout the video...) but later on I got it to work so I recorded a one-minute video (the one imported above) of me replenishing stamina just for those iconic sound effects that you either loved or absolutely couldn't stand the volume of, haha.

2. A Midnight Cinderella playlist (spotify link)

While I wasn't there for the early days of midcin, the songs I associated with the game almost always captured this very specifically nostalgic 90s-10s period, you'll see what I mean. Many of those are taken from 8track playlists dedicated to Midnight Cinderella, and if I'm not mistaken you can still look at what is left of them if you search them up. Others are just my very random interpretations of the route stories and the characters.

3. Fic recommendations

We have a lovely community of creatives and there are still so many works left behind which you can check out on the tags! But especially for fics I wanted to list some that truly touched me during the years (all links open in ao3) -

i'm on fire and its NSFW bonus scene bloodstream by a deleted user - words are not enough for this one. It's like it meant more than Nico's whole route for me at one point, and the songs are forever in my heart as Nico songs...

MidCin Works by DBMidCin (SoftSen) - ALL of these. This is my go-to collection of writings for midcin when I start to miss the game, it has a little bit of everything. The headcanon of Giles teaching his girls French for instance is one of the things I still remember reading like it was yesterday!

Bedroom Etiquette (NSFW) by RubyLeeRay - Because this is the dream. Doing something forbidden with your tutor Giles is the ultimate fantasy, I swear. I just love it.

And of course, many, many more. There are currently 166 works on the midcin tag in Ao3, and I'm sure there are a lot of hidden gems here on tumblr as well! Reminder that writers LOVE it when you interact with their old works, it's not weird, you shouldn't hesitate doing so if you find yourself enjoying any of them! <3

4. My own humble collection of MidCin writings on my writing blog @xxsycamore!

Maid, Butler, Chamberlain (NSFW) - Nico x MC with Giles joining them

Grabbles: 💋 Demand for a kiss, right here, right now (GILES); 👔 Stealing their clothes to cuddle when you miss them (BYRON); more coming soon as there are still some in my askbox and I plan on including midcin in future short writings request openings too.

Shared Moments (NSFW) - Nico x Reader - Secret relationship

Ice-cold heat (NSFW) - Byron x Reader - Temperature play

Double the Surprise - Alyn and Leo birthday fic

Leo Crawford having a misadventure with a cat (ao3 link) - crack fic featuring most of the suitors

5. Out of context Midnight Cinderella screenshots

This is a sideblog of mine dedicated to posting out-of-context funny screenshots that I took while playing the routes - @oocmidcin . If you have some of your own that are not on there, you're free to submit them and add to the archive!

6. The perfect MidCin song - The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives

When I first discovered this song back in 2020 I dreamed of making it into a midcin music video with simplistic art and animations... It ended up being just something you daydream in detail about while in the car, but that's alright. I could at least share my vision with you! Disclaimer, this is just an interpretation and obviously it can't fit all characters ideally - In the brackets, I explain how the lyric is related to them and usually it reveals their backstories. Some of the details I've already forgotten, sorry if it's inaccurate.)

Tell me once again

I could have been anyone, anyone else

Before you made the choice for me

(Giles - his family making the choice for him since birth and later disowning him once he failed to become a knight due to his illness)

My feet knew the path

We walked in the dark, in the dark

I never gave a single thought to where it might lead

(Nico - wandering the streets with his mother once they were thrown out of Stein castle because she was a commoner having an affair with Byron's father, the King)

All those empty rooms

We could have been anywhere, anywhere else

Instead I made a bed with apathy

(Robert - the empty rooms of the once flourishing palace of the country that Robert ruled and led to demise, nowadays becoming a mere court painter)

My heart knew the weight

Ten years' worth of dust and neglect

We made our peace with weariness and let it be

(Leo - the years in which Alyn didn't speak to him, after the death of their parents)

The moon will sing a song for me

I loved you like the sun

Bore the shadows that you made

With no light of my own

(Albert - loyally standing in king Byron's shadow)

Name your courage now

We could have had anything, anything else

Instead you hoarded all that's left of me

(Sid - his relationship with his fiance that he agreed upon just to find out more about his parents by getting close to her father)

Swallowing your doubt

Like swords to the pit of my belly

I want to feel the fire that you kept from me

(Alyn - searching for answers about the murder of his family and the fire that burnt down their home)

I shine only with the light you gave me

(I could have been anyone, anyone)

(Louis - being a nobody and MC being his sun)

7. It goes on

I went to read what I could of chapter 4 of Rayvis' route, using my last two chapter tickets as well, thinking it won't make me cry. And then I'm hit with those familiar things.

So let's close this with a word about the things that never change in the universe of Midnight Cinderella.

Stumbling down the grand staircase and right into the arms of somebody. Escaping the palace at midnight with Nico's help. Sitting at breakfast with Giles giving you your schedule for the day. Nico's teasing little smile as he accompanies you everywhere and listens to your relationship troubles. The way he's just a little suspicious at times. Finding Robert painting in the garden of Wysteria palace. Going to the room of your chosen suitor for the first time and meeting a pet there. Leo teaching you history and politics in his office. Dance lessons with Louis. Needing those dance lessons because King Byron is coming to Wysteria and a ball is going to take place. The bureaucrats being unhappy with you as a princess elect, no matter what. Galloping on a horse with Alyn who just protected you from an enemy attack. Getting information from a certain flirty merchant at a bar. Albert bickering with Nico, Sid teasing Louis. Being introduced to Archduke Herneit at Stein castle. King Byron appreciating the night sky. The sight of your yellow and orange princess elect room where on the large bed with its blue bedframe and tall see-through canopy you lie awake and think about the events of the day and how would a wise future Queen of Wysteria deal with the current situation. But ultimately you fall asleep, hearing the melancholically beautiful sounds of a violin coming from somewhere deep within your dream, and leave it all to the following day.

Thank you for everything, Midnight Cinderella!

08/26/2024

[twost3ps]

This boy has been in the drafts for like a month

I'm feeling like I want an Adam sandwich with two slices of Morningstar brothers so you guys are going to hear me out on my LucifurxAdamxMicheal au (and I mean it in a they both share Adam in the end :3 ) In general I'm calling the ship ✨️GuitarStars✨️ boooyaaa I feel like there might be a better name for it but idk

(Also I’ve noticed there is complaint for guitarhero in the adamsapple tag. I'm tagging this post as adamsapple this once of it but post related to this with both brothers will be counted as #guitarstars.

I also completely agree with the complaints. There is a problem with the tagging so this is a very quick reminder to please tag properly!!! Ik it's not meant to be harmful bcz most guitarhero shippers are also adamsapple as well. But i will admit there has been a lot of unecessary tagging (i am guilty of this im so sorry qwq) so please be mindful!!!! Ik this post might go agaisnt that but its just this post i swear sorrryyyy)

ANYWAYS The actual au:

For now I'm calling the au- Angels on My Shoulder (I can't think of a good title rn grrr)

quick sketchs so you get the idea

General prompt:

Adam respawns as a human with all his memories. He lives a normal happy life until he turns 21 when two angels (Micheal and Lucifer) appear on his shoulders with a mission: try convince him into making certain decisions so that he ensures a spot in heaven or hell.

That doesn’t work out very well because adam hates how theyre forcing their ideals onto him one way or another. He doesnt really want to think about heaven or hell anytime soon. Heaven or hell seems like complete torture to him. The fact that he didn't like either of them before he respawned doesn't help.

A revelation happens and both brothers realize it's not gonna work on their terms so they're gonna have to earn his favor first before trying anything. One of the ways is talking it out beacuse adam had expressed several times over that, while at first it was funny, their bickering needs to die because it's getting annoying.

They talk it out. They make up. It takes a whole but they become close again. They try to earn adams favor in the meantime and between time. Everything is at peace. As time goes on though, the wooing is no longer for just adams favor, its now romantic. Both develop feelings for Adam. And since now they made up both made up they are very willing to share him.

The og goal is completely lost. Gone with the dirt and dust. And now what was once a competition to get Adam into heaven or hell has spiraled into heaven and hell trying to get into Adam. If you catch my drift.

Do they get in there?

God bless they do

(Ps they start off as small little mascots but then later grow into their normal form and an added human form. Adam Prefers the small mascots though)

My in-depth of the au that is very subject to change I just wanted to rant is under the cut o3o

So when Adam had died, he respawned onto earth. Born into a normal family and all that jazz. He lives life as normal and has comes to terms with it. He actually loves his life. He doesn’t have to walk on eggshells anymore and lives as normal. He’s not insanely good or insanely bad, he’s just a guy.

A guy who is very happy with himself. After graduating he becomes a national park ranger.

Heaven and hell both know of adams soul, but contant cant be initiated till he turns 21 (It was recognized because I wanna say 21 would be the age Adam technically was in his creation during Eden, and thats when he can process divinity without his body tweaking as if he were any other mortal. Souls grow along with age and all that drama, adams soul in eden was strong enough to stand the sheer power of a seraphims presence) both sides made it their immediate duty to guide him to their path.

Sera wanted Adam in heaven to clear her mind- to have heaven back to perfection with the original perfection creation (also to have her son back, but she's not ready to unpack that for herself.)

Lucifur wanted adam as he could punish him directly for hurting Charlie and her friends. A little tiny part of him also really wants Adam all for himself grrryrvgrvsgrs

So both heaven and hell spawn a representative guide for Adam to follow once his soul is ready to guide. Lucifur nominated himself and Sera nominated Micheal who agreed.

For some reason (probably amix of earth and god or sumn), Adam's presence nulls the powers of both angels and devils. So the first time they appear, Micheal and lucifur appear as small tiny mascots on Adam’s shoulder.

(Adam has flicked both of them away several times and they can't really do anything about it other than fly back and try again)

Both sides had the same idea and Adam connects the dots very fast on why they are here without them telling him. And he's pissed.

His normal life is now ruined.

Adam actually really hates both Lucifur and Micheal. Lucifur for obvious reasons and Micheal because he's just so nitpickey. Micheal had trained Adam in the past and that guy was brutal. Adam understood part of it was with Lucifurs falling and their brother thing and whatever but god daymn bro needed to chill. If Sera was on him like a hawk Micheal had been on him like a spy camera from space monitored by the secret service. In a way, both devalued adams emotions to some capacity so Adam hated both of them equally. Nothing Adam could do about it though because he was human.

In the beginning, both micheal and lucifur kept it really formal between them. Its strained but neither brother imposes on what the other one advises. That doesn’t stay for too long. The formalities between Lucifur and Micheal die pretty quickly. Under 2 months tops. While both are very old and very much adults, they are, first and foremost, SIBLINGS.

Both begin talking over eachother, butting in, shoving eachother. It's like pre eden all over again between the two on who is better. Most of the time they argue about the most random topics forgetting their og purpose.

After one year of enduring both of their bs, Adam feels like he has a dog and a cat rather than two otherworldly gaurdians monitoring his every move.

He doesn't complain though. After a while he's learned to tune them out. He also finds it incredibly entertaining watching the literal devil fight with the a high angel while being incredibly small. And with no powers it resorts to petty slapping. He's gotten pretty used to it....

Except when it comes to them making him choose what actions he takes.

They're always on him about everything. It sucks so much ass. Everything Adam tries to do something good, Lucifur tells him that it's stupid, that he should be more selfish and blocks Adam. He keeps on telling him that deep down adam really isnt all that, and why should he try and do good when everyone knows that hes not really that. Micheal does the same thing in reverse. When Adam does something considered bad, Micheal raves on how he'll go to hell. That Adam was made in perfection and must reach that perfection. That heaven is waiting for him and is available only if he keeps on doing good.

It makes Adam so mad when they remember what they're trying to do.

Adam doesn’t listen to either angel because after living part of his life as just a normal person, he’s come to realize he doesn’t want to think about living life wondering if he’s going to heaven or hell. Adam does not want to face eternal punishment or be in hell. He still really hates sinners, and while the blood hungry killer part of him died with his second life, he still thinks that the majority of those sinners are disgusting to say the least. But he doesn’t want to walk eggshells to be virtuous enough to enter heaven. Heaven, for all its greatness got tiring after 1000s of years. He's grown tired- already hated hell and grew to hate heaven. He doesn’t want to think about either, he doesn’t want those ideas to deter him from choosing what he wants to do. He wants to make both good and bad decisions without an angel watching over him. He wants to be able to make both good and bad decisions. He makes this very clear after a breakdown.

It becomes less of a competition over making Adam choose and more of getting into Adam’s favor after that because their first tactic is clearly not working.

So both agree that they will have to earn adams favor before making him do anything.

But in order to get adams favor both have to learn to get along because it had become one of Adam's biggest gripes. Funny at first, but the bickering and arguments got tiring after the course of a few years.

So they do attempt to make up. Genuinely. It's hard and its tough. Theres a lot there to unpack. But both jnkw that if they don't do this Adam is not going to listen to either of them because getting along has go go both ways.

And they do make up.

By the time Adam is in his early 30s, the close proximity and a lot of Adam yelling to sort it out, allowed for some slow but needed time to talk it out. They would do it infront of Adam who was the mediator, but they mostly would talk when Adam falls asleep as both watch over his dreams (creepos imo). They begin talking about their decision and their lives. Both brothers do acknowledge that they miss each other and that they have committed several wrongs with each other. And soon the fighting turns to light banter and life is good. They still try to earn adams favor but it's a lot more calmer. Everything's more calm.

Atleast that's what adam thought at first.

While bonding and stuff, they both come to the mutual agreement that they could share Adam. So they both freak it and try to woo Adam together.

And then now it's a matter of Adam freaking out because while before, both his little shoulder angels used to argue, they their bickering distracted them enough that Adam could chill and leave.

Now they're both bothering him and helping eachother try to get in adams pants. They're tag teaming him now.

It doesn't take long for their combined forces to make Adam cave.

The og goal is kinda gone. They still put their input but adams become more open it because they're less demanding and he feels like their goals are more aligned to his wants than theirs. Lucifur and Micheal also come to kinda realize that where Adam ends is where Adam ends. They're going to have to just suck it up when the time comes but they'll enjoy sharing while it lasts.

It gets pretty domestic and slice of life here. So the years following is a mix of sibling bonding and having ✨️the rizz✨️ on Adam.

Lucifur talks about hell and Charlie. Micheal talks about heaven and lucifur and his siblings. (Both Micheal and Lucifur arent permannt shoulder angels, they can actually pop away if they wanted to) Adam talks about his life and stuff.

When Adam eventually dies, his soul is neither here or there (because getting absolutely boned by twin morningstars does not make you virtuous or sinful it just makes you a bad bitch) his soul spawns in limbo. He’s deprived from salvation but doesn’t endure the horrors of hell. It’s basically a decent sided garden with a basic house in the middle where the garden ends is white space. On opposite ends of the garden are two doors, one goes to hell and the other to heaven. Turns out, the doors are connected to Micheal and Lucifer’s homes, but only appeared in them once Adam died. He’s allowed outside limbo into heaven or hell of his choosing for a limited amount of time and visites Micheal and Lucifer when he can. On the flip side Micheal and Lucifer can freely walk in and out of the place. I don’t want Adam to be lonely once he enters limbo so Cain and Abel are there because they died before heaven was ready and when he’ll just started.

So that’s pretty much it :3 kinda

incomplete but doesn't have everything I wanna say

Also

I will reiterate what I said at the beginning. I love you my guitarhero ppl but they are right in the tagging. It comes from a place of love so just be mindful!! Also, this is from me, sometimes the adamsapple vs guitarhero thing gets repetitive. It's a very common post ive seen. And I mean in general not just leaking into the adamsapple tag. That might just be me, but I do see it pretty often. Love it but that with the tagging does get a bit old. Really, the problem is a mix of incorrect tagging and the same trope. There's a lot more to the ship, especially with Micheal being free reign rn, so there is a lot of opportunity to show their relationship besides comparing it to Adamsapple.

I feel like somone who ships guitarhero also had to say something so yeyeye

Again, no offense to anyone guitarhero isbmy love but just please be mindful guys o3o

If you read all that thank you lol

[weast-of-eden]

I've been thinking about how I could contribute to the ACD/Granada Sherlock Holmes fandom for a while, seeing as I'm neither an artist, a writer, or anything actually useful lol. But then I realized something I myself always treasure are curated fic recs, which I could actually do! I've read probably like 25% of all the h/w ACD and Granada fics on ao3, so I compiled a short list for anyone who is just starting out with the fandom. Without further ado, may I present

Eden’s Top Picks for Beginning ACD/Granada Fics:

(edit: i made a second list here!!)

The Adventure of the Doctor's Heart by mistyzeo 12k | Rated E Summary: Holmes has observed much of Watson's habits and tastes over time, which is why it surprises him when his friend objects strangely to a folk song sung at the conclusion of a case. Disturbed by the Doctor's unexpected display of emotion, Holmes becomes determined to lift his spirits by any means necessary, with mixed results. Notes: obviously if you're going to read canonverse h/w, you are going to read mistyzeo. this one is just so good and angsty and features music (!!). it's got some steaminess but it also has wooing. basically it has everything you ever need. this is my odyssey, my iliad, my hamlet, etc.

Cameo by what_alchemy 8k | Rated M | For Archive Users Only Summary: Holmes and Watson become embroiled in a case Scotland Yard refuses to acknowledge. A soulmate AU. Notes: i honestly skipped over this fic for a while, since i'm not the biggest fan of soulmate aus. do not make the same mistake i did, because this shit HITS. this fic has hit after hit: soulmate-mark based case for our main duo, angst, hiatus feels, MORE ANGST, and ofc a happy ending. ugh. read this fic if you enjoy being happy.

A Tide That Does Not Turn by tweedisgood 3k | Rated T Summary: Holmes is a very bad patient with a devoted doctor who adores him. Watson wishes it was safe to speak up, but his friend is a tide that does not turn. Notes: do NOT read this if you don't like angst... ok now i'm sensing a pattern. anyways this is the first hurt/no comfort fic i read for this tag and i literally have cried more than enough tears over it. poor, poor watson :( iconic author though, read everything they write!

The Adventure of the Glad Outlaw by radondoran 7k | Rated T Summary: While Sherlock Holmes solves the mystery of a student's disappearance, Dr. Watson is more puzzled by the changing dynamic between his flatmate and himself. Notes: cute pastiche! a nice little mystery and a nice little get-together. ahhhhhh.... this fic is like cotton candy to me, so sweet and fluffy. defo recommend

Hands by MinorObsessions (draculard) 1.4k | Rated T Summary: Naturally, there are some things Watson thinks about Holmes that don't make it into the books. Notes: i'm also in the star trek fandom, so if you know anything about that then you know that hands are kind of A Thing in both circles and ergo i now Have A Thing about hands. so this is a nice little ode to holmes' hands, featuring some doctoring by watson AND a nice reverse appraisal at the end. it's so sweet :)

Conductor of Light by ColebaltBlue  1.4k | Rated T Summary: A Victorian stiff upper lip won't prevent you from falling in love, but it might prevent you from realizing it. Notes: they finally get their shit together! honestly i would recommend this fic to anyone just starting out with h/w fics in any medium. the characterization and dialogue is A1, and their argument is really realistic to me, idk. also features the iconic HOUN quote for its title so props to that!

A (Mis)fortunate Man by sans_patronymic 1.5k | Rated T Summary: December, 1880. Watson writes a note which may be his last. December, 1899. Watson writes back. Notes: READ THE TAGS BEFORE READING. this was a gut-wrenching read but god i cried at the end for watson. don't worry, this one has a happy ending. ugh now i wish there was a second chapter where watson lets holmes read the letters. to sum up: oof, my heart

The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner 73k | Rated E Summary: Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart. Notes: congrats, you've made it to the end!! so now i must confess that it's been a loooong time since i've read this fic, but the private note i left on my bookmark was just "holy shit", so i'm sure it's a banger. i'm also sure it has angst because i love angst and i love bookmarking angst so i can read it again and again and suffer infinitely. enjoy :)

anyways, now that i've put these all here i realized how much i enjoy angst and hurt/no comfort fics. if any of you guys have a favorite fic you want to link or want to plug your own writing, feel free to!

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Five: My Whole World Came Alive

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 2.9k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, and finally some progress. Tommy keeps it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you all for reading! Comments and reblogs make me weep with gratefulness.

Some of the tags aren't working in the taglist - if you're not getting the notifications, please check your settings to make sure you are taggable. Thx!

Chapter Four | Main Masterlist

Sitting in Phil’s Icehouse with juicy burgers and drinks – you insisted Joel try a mimosa – conversation flowed between the two of you. Joel found his lips twitching into a smile at nearly every word that came out of your mouth. He was fascinated with the stories you shared of your college years, and he listened, completely enraptured, to your plans for the future. Every bit of your lunch together felt like a date. He wondered if you felt the same, yet he couldn’t find the courage to ask outright.

“Yeah, so, I have a meeting at Sarah’s school this week for a possible position. Remember that interview I mentioned a few weeks back? It went really well and now they want me to meet with the teacher who’s retiring and the principal,” you explained, sipping at your mimosa. “I’m pretty excited.”

Joel’s eyes lit up. He’d forgotten that you were looking at a position at Sarah’s school. “Wow, that’s great, darlin’. This would be for a science teacher position, right?”

“Yep. Middle grade science.” The beaming smile you flashed him nearly blinded Joel. “Wanna know the best part? If I get this job, I’ll have the same hours as Sarah, give or take a bit, so I can continue with the school drop-off and pickup for you. She might have to stay later with me somedays, but it’ll still work.”

Nodding, Joel’s mind was flashing lightyears forward, picturing you calling his house home and taking Sarah to school with you, coming home to have dinner together, watching TV in the evenings. Heart thudding in his chest at just the thought of you living together, Joel shook himself. He had to slow his mind down, put the brakes on those kinds of thoughts until after you were actually dating him, at least.

“You could be Sarah’s science teacher in a few years, huh?” Joel asked, focusing once again on listening to you instead of drifting off into daydreams.

“Could be, yeah,” you laughed. “I imagine she’d be my favorite student.”

He beamed at that. Conversation shifted to other things and soon your meals were finished.

“We should do this again,” you said, glassy eyes meeting his across the table, lips curved in a gentle smile. “I really enjoyed spending time with you, Joel.”

Fighting the urge to grab your hand and entangle your fingers, Joel smiled back. “Yeah, me too.” He wanted to kick himself for not saying more, for not asking you out for a real date. He just couldn’t find his words.

How was it that you made him so nervous?

Joel spent the next week in some kind of weird liminal space between a dream and reality, between agonizing confusion and utter happiness. Lunch with you on Sunday felt like a date – he asked you with the intention of it being a date, even if you didn’t know that yet. He spent the week thinking about that lunch, how you teased each other, laughed, shared stories of your past. How your gazes locked for longer than necessary, touches lingered, the smiles never fell from your faces.

It was wonderful, yet nothing was said of what it all meant – which was his fault, probably. Hence the roller coaster of feelings throughout the week.

He could tell you felt it, too. Doing as Tommy suggested, he started paying close attention to how you acted around him, how you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t looking. It was all starting to come together. He could finally see what Tommy was talking about.

You liked him. You really liked him, Joel Miller, overworked single father.

It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that someone liked him. It’d been way too long since he felt that way, that spark of hope for something more.

For the first time in a long time, he slept well the night before and woke early, eager to face the day and see you before heading off to work. He was already out front, filling a birdfeeder Sarah asked for, when you arrived.

“Good mornin’, darlin’,” he greeted, pulling the car door open for you once you parked in the driveway. His heart skipped a beat at the way you smiled up at him, taking his hand to help you out of the car. Your touch electric on his roughened palm.

“Hiya, Joel.” Your voice washed over him, warm as honey and twice as sweet. “Whatcha doing out here?’

Gesturing to the red barn-style feeder Sarah picked, he finished filling it with the wild bird seed the clerk insisted birds loved. “Just fillin’ our new birdfeeder.”

“Oh, what a cute feeder!” You admired the intricate features as it hung from the post Joel installed. “Sarah has been talking nonstop about birds this week. Hopefully we’ll see some good ones.”

“Hope so,” Joel hummed in return. “Don’t know much about birds personally, but I’m sure Sarah’ll teach me.” Your smile brightened at his sheepish grin.

“I have a bird guide I could give her to help identify all the different types that visit the feeder.” Your face lit up with excitement. “I even have binoculars from when I took an ornithology class in undergrad. I’ll bring them when I pick up Sarah this afternoon.”

“Orna what now?” Joel questioned. He had no idea what kind of class you were talking about, but he loved how smart you were.

“Ornithology,” you repeated, drawing out each syllable with a soft giggle. “It’s the study of birds. It was a really cool class. We had field trips around campus once a week to go bird watching. I got pretty good at naming the different species that we saw, but it’s been a while.”

In awe of you, Joel’s eyes crinkled with the strength of his grin. “Would you, uh, maybe want to go on an adventure with us tomorrow?” he asked, stumbling a bit over his words, a nervous energy welling up in his gut as he once again sort of asked you out. “We could go for a hike in the county park, and you could teach us about birds.”

You gazed at him, lips pursed in thought, for long enough that Joel began to fidget, brimming with recurring doubt. Did he misinterpret the signs after all? He wouldn’t be surprised. He wasn’t any good at this stuff anymore. You responded before he could spiral back into the land of self-doubt. “That sounds great, Joel. I’d love to.”

A visceral relief washed through him. “It’s a date then,” he said, his voice deep and rough while his dark chocolate eyes locked with yours. A satisfied smirk graced his lips as your eyebrows rose in surprise. Too quickly, doubt clouded your pretty eyes, and you laughed it off like he was teasing you. Joel sighed. He would be more direct next time. He’d get the hang of asking a woman on a date again someday. Hopefully.

“We’ll have to go early, is that okay? Birds are more active in the early morning hours,” you explained, heading for the door to find Sarah.

“That’s fine. We’ll make a day of it, grab lunch somewhere when we’re done.” Joel followed you into the house, already plotting out conversations in his head on how to properly ask you on a date.

The rest of the day went by in a blur for Joel and before he knew it, the job was finished, and it was only mid-afternoon when he arrived home. You pulled into the driveway with Sarah shortly after him and he came down from taking a shower to find the pair of you on the living room floor playing a racing video game.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah exclaimed as he kissed the top of her head and took a seat on the couch. It didn’t take long before Sarah asked him to play as well and the three of you were taking turns racing against each other, laughing when one of you crashed.

There were moments, when your gaze would connect with Joel’s and he’d swear you shared the same thought – this was how it could be if you were together, a family.

“Do you want to stay for pizza? Tommy and your dad are coming over,” Joel asked when Sarah’s attention focused elsewhere.

“We have an early morning ahead of us, Miller. Don’t be up late partying with the guys,” you replied with a smile that reached your twinkling eyes. “I’ll stay for a bit, but then I need to go dig out the old binoculars and get my beauty sleep.”

“You’re already beautiful,” he murmured, watching your eyes widen as you smile demurely.

“You say the sweetest things, Joel.” Your voice held a teasing tone that drove Joel nuts. How was he ever going to convince you that he was serious?

Shortly thereafter, Tommy arrived, pizza and beer in hand. “Come on, Millers! I come bearing gifts. JB here yet?”

“I’m right here, ya troglodyte,” your dad called from the front yard, stepping up the porch steps as Tommy whirled around.

“What the hell did you just call me?”

“A troglodyte. Learned it from Spud and thought it fitting since you don’t close doors behind you.” He winked at you as he teased the younger Miller brother. Placing a kiss on your cheek, he added, “Hey Spud, haven’t seen you in a bit. Must be working too hard. Miller! You workin’ my daughter too hard?”

Joel spluttered. He was too busy gazing at you to pay much attention to JB and feared he got busted. “I hardly think so,” he grumbled, fighting the blush he knew rose to his cheeks.

“Ah, in the same ol’ grumpy mood, I see. Maybe this’ll help.” Your dad placed a 12-pack of Joel’s favorite beer on the coffee table before taking a seat in the recliner he always chose at Joel’s place.

The five of you sat around the living room, eating pizza with beer for the men and sodas for you and Sarah. The conversation revolved mainly around construction work, and you ended up taking your leave before the sun dipped below the horizon. Your dad followed not long after, eager to relax in his own well-worn recliner.

“Alright, nugget. It’s time for bed. We have an early morning tomorrow,” Joel said, swinging the young girl over his shoulder much to her delight. “Say goodnight to Uncle Tommy.”

“G’night Uncle Tommy,” Sarah squealed as Joel tickled her sides.

“G’night nugget.”

Always a good kid, Sarah went right to bed after brushing her teeth, but not before pestering Joel about why they had to get up early on a Saturday. Pressing a loving kiss to her forehead, Joel tucked her in. “We’re going on a surprise adventure. Now, to sleep with you.”

Returning to the living room, Tommy handed him another beer as the brothers watched Sportscenter. “Have you made any progress yet?” Tommy asked.

Matching dark eyes met as Joel shrugged. He knew his brother was talking about you. “Some, I guess. Told ya I took her to lunch on Sunday and that felt a lot like a date. I asked her to go on a hike with me and Sarah tomorrow. I told her it was a date after she agreed, but she thought I was jokin’.” He paused, taking a long pull from the bottle of beer. “Then, this afternoon, I told her she was beautiful and again she thought I was teasing.”

Swirling the bottle of beer in his hand, Tommy shook his head and chuckled. “She’s givin’ you a run for your money, brother. Good on her.”

“Good on her,” Joel mocked, but his tone quickly turned to pleading. “I need more advice. Surely you got something up your sleeve for women like her.”

“Nah, brother. The only way to get someone like her is to be yourself and keep chipping away. It’s clear she has as much self-doubt as you do, so it’ll take her time to believe you’re for real.” Tommy eyed his brother a moment as he mulled over the situation. “Though, I will say this. You need to start bein’ direct – come right out and ask her on a date, for fuck’s sake. Enough hinting at shit. It’s clearly gettin’ you nowhere.”

You arrived on the Millers’ doorstep bright and early the next morning, two travel mugs of coffee and a container of chocolate milk in hand. A pair of binoculars and Sibley’s Guide to Birds were tucked away in the bag you wore over your shoulder.

“Wakey, wakey, Millers! The early bird gets the worm!”

Joel and Sarah were perched at the breakfast bar when you let yourself in, both looking half awake and less than enthusiastic about being up so early on a Saturday.

“Too damn cheerful for this early,” Joel grumbled half-heartedly. His pitiful smile looked more like a grimace, yet you found it adorable. It made you ache to run your fingers through his hair until you drew a real smile from his lips.

“Don’t gimme that. This was your idea, Joel Miller!” you sassed in return, patting his broad shoulders. “Let’s go!”

Herding cats, that was the perfect analogy to describe the next fifteen minutes as you tried to get the Millers moving and into Joel’s truck. Just when you’d get one heading for the door, the other would disappear. Finally, you managed to wrangle them both into the truck and you were well on your way to the preserve. The ride didn’t take long, Sarah peppering you with questions about birds she found in your guidebook as Joel drove. By the time Joel pulled into a parking spot at the entrance to the trails, everyone was wide awake and ready to hike.

The morning was crisp and refreshing as you zipped up your jacket and looked around. You’d never been to this preserve before and wanted to find a trail map, but the mini-Miller was too anxious to wait for that.

“I can hear the birds chirping already, Daddy! Come on!” Sarah exclaimed, charging toward the first trail excitedly.

Joel beamed as Sarah took off, turning to you before following her. “Ready?” He reached out a hand, palm up and fingers splayed, inviting you to grasp it.

Your eyes trailed from his outstretched hand to his heavy gaze, uncertain of what to make of the signals Joel gave off. The feelings you harbored for the man grew stronger each day, yet you couldn’t quite get a read on whether he shared even a fraction of those feelings. Somedays, you thought he did. Yet others, you figured he thought you had a crush on him and found amusing. Your heart sunk on those days, causing the doubt to linger every time he did something to make you think otherwise.

The moment carried on too long, you realized, as Joel’s warm eyes began to shutter, the tender smile starting to slip. Bolstering your nerves, you plunged ahead and grasped his large hand in yours, tangling your fingers with his thicker ones. His hand was warm, skin roughened from years of working with his hands, and it felt wonderful against your smoother skin.

Heat flashed up your chest and neck as Joel led you down the trail to catch up with Sarah. A broad smile never left your lips as you walked.

“I meant it, you know,” Joel’s deep, gruff voice rumbled from deep in his chest and you glanced up to meet his gaze. “What I said yesterday, about this being a date. If that’s something you’re interested in.”

Heart thumping wildly, your mouth opened and closed a few times before you found your words. “Are you sure? I mean, yes. Yes, I’m interested.” You winced at how flustered you sounded, tripping over your words. And, worse yet, why was your voice so squeaky?

“Never been surer in my life,” Joel confirmed, his gaze searing your skin as he watched you, taking in every minute change in expression. His hand squeezed yours gently, steadying the butterflies in your stomach.

“I would really like that,” you replied breathlessly, relieved to finally have confirmation that the moments between you and Joel weren’t all in your head. You were on Cloud 9 until reality smacked you in the face. “But what about my dad?”

Sarah popped around a copse of live oaks, startling you both from. “Come on, you slow pokes! The birdies aren’t gonna wait all day for us to find them!” Not trusting you both to follow her on your own, the little girl latched on to your hand and pulled you along the trail. “You need to help me find the birds,” Sarah reminded you.

Joel’s hand still clasped in yours, you dragged him behind you, grinning over your shoulder at him. “I’m liking this date already, Joel.”

He beamed back at you. The three of you walked in silence for a bit, listening to the sounds of nature around you. When you spotted a bird blind, you handed Sarah the binoculars and the guidebook, challenging her to identify as many birds as she could from that spot. Joel stood next to you, watching Sarah enjoy the activity.

“Let’s see where this goes first before we worry about your dad,” he murmured. “I’d like to take you on a few dates first, okay?”

It made sense and you nodded, pleased at the way things were working out. Your hand remained in Joel’s throughout the birding adventure and though Sarah never mentioned it, her smile grew wide at the sight.

tbc

p.s. we should start building up to the good stuff in the next chapter.

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx

[catboybiologist]

Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.

Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!

As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!

Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.

Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!

Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:

If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!

And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):

If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!

Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:

I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.

I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:

Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:

This includes the way I came out on tumblr:

And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:

Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:

Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL

As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.

I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.

So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee

[erika-xero]

A small guide to commissioning artists: how to avoid getting scammed by people who use image generators

Because “Ai-art” is not art and everyone can use image generators for free.

Disclaimer! This post will include generated images which were originally uploaded on DeviantArt and Twitter by people who generated them. Some of these images are of erotic genre but censored out. I beg you, do not bully these people. This post wasn’t written to call anyone out, it was written to help human artists and their potential commissioners. While some of the “Ai-artists” out there may be real scammers, others are not, and I strongly believe that no one should be bullied, doxxed, stalked and no one deserve any threaths over some silly ai-generated pics. And - as always! - scroll down for the short summary.

Commissioning an artist in 2023 may be scary, especially if you are not experienced in working with artists and have a hard time to distinguish artworks from images generated by neural networks. But even now, with the tech evolving and with neural networks generating pics with multiple characters and fan art, there are still quite a few ways to avoid scammers.

The creator you are going to commission must have an established gallery

This doesn’t mean that you should not commission someone who is new to platform, someone who started drawing in 2022 or later or someone who didn’t upload their work online prior. Image generators actually forced some of the artists to remove their work from social networks. In addition, image generators can generate thousands of images within hours, which means that the scammers may have quite a lot of works uploaded. What I mean is that real artists grow. Their skills gets better over time – even if they are already established artists with huge experience. Their artistic approach constantly changes and evolve. It means that if there are hundreds of images in the artist’s gallery but their skill is always the same level and their artistic approach doesn’t change over time – this definitely might be a red flag. As an artist with a tendency to nuke my galleries on certain platforms (such as DeviantArt, VK and ArtStation), if I get asked to provide my commissioners with examples of my early artworks I will do it with no hesitation. 

You need to look through the artist’s gallery and analize their work

Searching for some decent examples on DeviantArt I stumbled upon a gallery which is four weeks old but already has 660+ deviations all of which look the same way in the matter of skill and artistic approach. While stylization may vary from image to image (some of the artworks look like typical anime-styled CG artworks from visual novels and others have semirealistic proportions), the coloring, the “brush” imitation, the textures on the backgrounds are absolutely the same on every image I analized.

There are a lot of images depictinioning conventionally attractive white or sometimes asian girls in this gallery, some of which seem familiar or resemble the characters from various media. Yes, image generators can now generate fan art. But what they can not generate is diversity. There are of course living artists who tend to draw only conventionally attractive white or asian people too, but now when the image generators gain popularity this lack of diversity automatically raise my suspicions. Drawing a crooked nose or dark skin is not hard and living artists who use references rarely fail at it. It’s image generators who fails this task constantly.

Here is an image titled as a commission. The person who uploaded it also have some content under the paywall and I do not see their images being tagged as Ai-generated too.

Remember the golder rule: spotting an Ai-generated image is the same as spotting the evil faerie in a dark folklore tale. Look them in the eyes. Count  their teeth. Look at their hands and count their fingers. Check if they have a shadow and if that shadow is of human form.The devil is in the details.

While this image may appear like a hand-painted artwork of the conventionally attractive girl at the first sight, however it has quite a few clues that may help you to realize that this artist is a scammer and his entire gallery is just a selection of most-decent looking images they managed to generate with neural network. This elven girl is insanely tall, and the shore behind her back, the stones, the grass and the trees are insanely small compared to her. The piece of jewellry is attached to her nips and it’s design makes no sense. What is the gold chain under her breast, which doesn’t seem to be attached to anything? Where does this piece of cloth hang from? Why does her head cast a triangular shadow on her arm?

Many details are easy to be spotted when an image is in high resolution. I do not recommend artists to post their works in high resolution online to avoid feeding the Ai-monster and also to avoid people using your works to produce pirated merch if they draw fan art. Yet in my opinion posting close-ups might become essential - because people who call themselves ai-artists are usually hiding the artifacts under filters and upload their image resized. So yes: avoid commissioning artists, who never post high resolution faces or overuse filters and blur. Because analizing the characters’ faces is now essential.

You may look at this picture and think: how is this possible for a neural network to create such a detailed image and not fail at it (if you also ignore the fact that the girl on the horse doesn’t have legs). Luckily, the person who uploaded it uploaded it in high resolution, so we can zoom in and... yeah.

The artifacts on these evil faeiries’ faces (especially eyes) and their hands speak for themselves.

Image generators have a tendency to either give characters extra fingers, phalanx or nails or hide the hands completely, if the person writing a prompt decide to to so. I do not know whether and how fast will the algorythm learn to generate normal human hands, but for now you should pay attention to these details to spot a generated image.

Like this randomly nakey fellow with two palms on a single wrist and with some extra fingers on their elbow...

...Or this Asuka Langley fan “art” I had to censor out, with her fingers twisted and crooked.

If you are up to commission an artwork and are in search of an artist who will actually do the job you absolutely must pay attention to small details on their works: the clothing, the jewellry, the tattoos, the anatomy.

While Ai-generated images may appear photorealistic at first sight, the neural network usually misses small details, creates artifacts and makes mistakes if there are too many similar objects or repetative patterns. For example, the infamous MidJourney Party Selfies depicting girls with roughly fifly teeth, extra collarbones and green watercolor spots instead of tattooes (and don’t forget to check the ginger lady’s hand). The hair dissolwing in fabric folds? Image generator. The clothing designs which makes no sence? Image generator. Jewellry dissolwing into character’s hair? Image generator. Moreover the image generators also make mistakes while generating interiors and architecture, since the algorythm is not aware of perspective and space and once again fails either at perspective and object size or with repetative objects and patterns. 

Like this image here: the bed, the window, the picture on the wall. The perspective on this image makes absolutely no sense: two walls and the bed all exist in different dimentions, while the character is once again of enormous height.

If you try to analize the background on this one, I swear, you can go insane. Look at the window and then look on the corner above it. 

There is also another red flag which makes it easy to spot a scammer: dozens of iterations of the same image, which usually happens with people who can’t choose the best image out of the bunch generated with the single prompt.

There are, of course, artists who do series of works, and sometimes these works may have similar ideas and themes, but they hardly ever look this similar to each other: they may differ in angles, poses, character designs and even the artistic approach (lineart, brushes, rendering and etc). The posting time is also important: drawing an actual artwork requires time and effort - for example, I need at least two weeks to finish an artwork with two or three characters and detailed background. So a bunch of ten similar images that are uploaded at the same time it is definitely a red flag. The ai-generated images have a lot of problems with anatomy, details, perspective and other basics human artists have to learn long before they become professionals. All while having glossy semi-realistic render which can only be achieved with years of practice. I’m not saying that there are no living human artists, who may make mistakes (everyone makes mistakes now and then, even the professionals who works in this industry for DECADES) or who choose not to give much thoughts to backgrounds while focusing on characters and rendering (it is okay too), but the combinations of various red flags listed above is something you definitely have to take in account while deciding whether or not you are going to commission an artwork from this creator.

Another example (this person openly admits that they use the images generators for funsies and I did not find him mentioning paywall anywhere). The image generator even imitated the watermark.

Red flags you may spot while working with the chosen artist

Image generators are tricky: they can generate multiple iterations of the same image, imitate WIPs and many more.

First of all, the artist should provide you with WIPs on every stage of work, not when the work is already done. We artists, do it for a reason. We need your feedback constantly, even if you grant us artistic freedom to chose the idea, the character pose, the medium and technique. There are always changes to be made, and we need to make them at proper stage: for example, change the pose or angle of your character while working on a sketch is thousand times easier than to do so while rendering the image. However, the minor changes are usually possible on the later stages (some of artists may require you to pay a small fee of a few bucks, others may not). While the living artists can easily change small details such as the character’s eye color (or other small design changes) not touching the rest of the artwork, image generators simply can not do so not rerendering the whole image. If an artist does not provide you with WIPs or only provide you with them when the work is done, if an artist refuses to make any changes  -  these may be interpreted as red flags. If an artist agrees to make any change, even the drastic ones, at a late stage, when the piece is almost finished - it is a red flag too. Ask for a small change every single time you need one. I know that there are artists out there who prefer to only provide their client with the finished image once it is done, but now when image generators gain populatiry his may be misinterpreted as if you are a scammer.

Here is a good example of image generators generating WIPs for an existing image: it might actually look scary both for many artists and many commissioners.

I know that some of the artists are panicking that the only way to prove that you really did the artwork is a timelapse recording but this method is not for everyone. Not everyone has a setup which allow them to record a timelapse for an every single commission (my laptop will simply explode if I try). Ask your artists which software/setup do they use, ask them whether or not they can provide you with a timelapse video, ask them which brushes do they use. I know that not everyone like sharing info on their pipeline but at this point it is essential to provide your clients with information on the information about your pipeline, tools and software. For example, if your artist works in Procreate (which is available in Ipad) they have all the timelapses recorded automatically. But please, mind that not everyone have such a privilege.

As a commissioner you can ask an artist for screenshots of their workspace with all the interface visible. If they refuse providing you with that or have a hard time answering the questions about the software they use it might be a red flag. I would also suggest you not to force your artist to draw everything on stream, especially if these streams are public, because there are already cases when people took screenshots of the work in progress, used the image to image generator to apply the shiny rendering to it and accused the original artists of plagiarism. It is a risk for artists and it is okay to refuse such a request. You can also ask an artist for .PSD file of the commission, but the artist have a right to refuse sharing it online for copyright-related reasons. The original .PSD file is a best proof of authorship in court for residents of many countries. Artists can still provide you with the resized .psd file with some of the layers merged or with the background/character png with transparent background without putting themselves at risk. Of course there are artists who draw on the single layer - but without a timelapse recorded this may indeed seem suspicious that the artist does not have a .psd file with layers at all. Always ask your artist to provide you with high resolution image when the commission is finished and fully paid for. There are artists who works on smaller canvases, but working on the canvas smaller than 1000px wide might be interpreted as a red flag, since it is easy to hide artifacts on a resized image. I myself prefer working on larger canvases, from 6000 pixels wide to 10000 pixels wide (300 DPI) because I had an experience with printing my images out to sell them at conventions. While I do not sell commissioned works as prints I still give my commissioners a right to print the finished images out for non-commercial purposes. Thus, I always make sure that it is possible to make a wall print of a decent size out of the finished product. Avoid working with platforms which do not support refunds. It must either be a payment system which support sending invoices or an established platform known and used among the art community (patreon, buymeacofee, boosty, Paypal and etc.). Most artists do not do refunds for finished works — which is absolutely a right thing to do - but sometimes an error might occure. I know people who accidentally paid for their commissions twice and the artists still had to do a refund. Yes, you must respect the artists Terms of Service, but ithas nothing to do with unrelyable platforms used to scam people.

To sum it up

Search for an artists with established galleries,which has a believable amount of works and the visible artistic progress/evolution;

Analyze the artist's gallery, carefully inspecting their work for anything that might be interpreted as a red flag. Excessive fingers, crooked hands, broken perspective, clothing designs and jewellry that makes no sense, extra collarbones, lack of diversity, excessive teeth, artifacts in the eye area, interior and architecture elements which makes no sense — all while the images being glossy, fully rendered as if the artist have decades of experience;

Avoid people with too many iterations of the same image in their profile;

Avoid people with too many images being uploaded at the same time (it is okay to upload a bunch of prevoulosly done artworks when you start running your account, but uploading hundrends of images every week for a long period of time is really suspicious);

Ask for constant WIPs. Give feedback at a proper time. See the reaction;

Ask for a small change when the image is almost finished: it is impossible for the image generator to do so without fully rerendering the image, at least for now;

Ask your artist which software and assets do they use;

Ask (if it is possible) for a timelapse recording — either if the commissioned work or at least of one of their previous works (if they had an opportunity to record it before);

Ask your artist for in program screenshots with visible interface and history (if possible);

Ask your artist to show you the layers of the artwork — at least character/background only layers (mind that the background might be less detailed/wonky at the places which usually are hide but the character's figure). Ask for a resized .psd with some of the layers merged or a gif animation of each layer being added on top — this is what I usually do;

Ask for high resolution file of the commissioned image once you paid for it and it is finished. If the artist doesn’t have it and claim to work on the canvas smaller than 1000 px wide and/or claim that they intentionally delete the original file somehow - this may raise suspicions. Of course a person can delete the file accidentally or have their hard drive crushed, but if you have already spotted some red flags while working with this artist it might be a sign of a person trying to scam you too;

Many of the stuff listed above might be interpreted as a red flag , but I strongly advice you not to judge anyone by one or two points from this post. For example, a person can draw on one layer and mess up the perspective on a drawing entirely! However, if you've played a bingo and suddenly won — you have most likely encountered a person who try to fool and scam you;

Avoid working with suspicious payment methods. If you never heard about  a platform before — google it and see whether or not other established artists use it. If not - it might be a scam;

And remember! People may use the images generators for various reasons: for fun, to create references of their characters to later commission reall artists artworks with said character (for example, the art breeder is a useful tool to create arealistic image of the character, even though I find it slightly limiting). Yes, image generators are unethical and trained on copyrighted data, but a person using it may not be aware of this problem. Not every single person who call themselves an “Ai-artist” has malicious plans to scam people or to gain wealth using their funny little tool. Sometimes they do it for fun and do not pretend that it is anything more that a game. Thank you for reading this far and good luck with your commissions!

Have a picture of an absolutely normal and realistic woman, generated by the neural network!

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: the mysterious blonde (PART 3)

pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: you’re gigi’s best friend but the project is now over. does that mean the little moments you shared with her brother are over too?? that’s what you think until she invites you for a beach day…. but someone special comes along and it makes your day a whole lot better as well as shaping a future

parts: PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

warnings:

a/n: ‘the mysterious blonde’ has two parts prior to this one and it would make way more sense if you read those first. they linked above if you want to check them out or remind yourself of what happened…

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @peterlcsingwendy @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zoyaaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77

After the project was over, there wasn’t much of an excuse for me to see Grayson. But luckily, Gigi was shipping us together so hard that she created lots of helpful excuses in order to create interactions. Except I wasn’t so good at the ‘creating interactions’ part. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the guy, let alone start a full conversation. That’s why at school, when me and Gigi were on lunch break, she sat me down and told me we had to discuss something.

“You need to talk to him more,” she says, staring me dead in the eye.

“I am trying,” I reply, sounding too unsure for it to be true.

“Liar,” she pokes her tongue out.

“Okay but isn’t it going to be super obvious if I just start having conversations with him,” I try to reason with her.

“No,” she shrugs as I’ve just asked her if the sun is green.

“Gigi have you ever talked to a guy before,” I ask her.

“That is offensive,” she gasps, fighting a smile.

I roll my eyes, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Besides the point,” she announces, “you need to talk to him.”

She brings is back to the topic I was trying to change the subject from. Annoyingly there seems to be no way out.

“What about? I don’t even know what he likes,” I groan, “maybe we’re just not meant to be-“

“No I refuse,” Gigi interrupt, putting her palm on my face, “I want to be a bridesmaid at this wedding so I’m going to make it happen.”

I sigh as a comfortable silence falls upon us. I wish I had the courage to talk to him like a normal human but I’m so conscious of what he might think of me that I always seem to back out. There’d been times when I’d been close, for instance last night. We walked past one another and we smiled at each other and I almost turned around and mentioned something he’d said at dinner, but my heart was racing too much and the nerves took over.

“Swimming,” Gigi suddenly decrees.

“Huh?” I say, still partly in my thoughts, trying to process what she said and why.

“He likes swimming,” she clarifies, with a hand gesture.

Now that explained his body.

“Swimming?” I raise my eyebrows, attempting to figure out how I could possibly bring up swimming in a one on one conversation with him without sounding like an absolute stalker psycho.

“Don’t judge your husband,” she replies, slapping my arm lightly.

“Gigi,” I laugh, shaking my head.

“Look he’s coming for dinner tonight and I am going to make sure you guys are left in a room alone together so you have to talk,” she explains.

“That sounds really creepy out of context but thanks,” I grin.

This girl was a life saver. I mean she was literally making my, albeit questionable, love life actually happen. I couldn’t ask for anyone better. I make a mental note to buy her the worlds’ supply of chocolate covered pretzels when I get enough money.

“You’re so welcome,” she smiles, booping the tip of my nose as the bell rings.

***

Gigi stays true to her word, later that day I’m at her house. We’re just been hanging out as usual when she suggests we go downstairs into the living room. Coincidentally Grayson is there, looking gorgeously concentrated as he takes notes on something or other. We sit down on the sofa together, books in hand, when Gigi abruptly gets up. This is it. This is the moment.

“Sorry,” Gigi says to me quickly, “I’ll be back in a mo.”

“Okay,” I nod.

She gives me a wink before she leaves completely. I open my book. I need a distraction. I look down at the pages, the words all mushing into one giant mess. I can’t concentrate when Grayson is around. My hands are sweating and my leg is bouncing up and down uncontrollably. The silence is deafening. I need to start conversation but he looked so concentrated when I walked in. Would he be annoyed? Weirded out? Or would he not care at all? I stare harder at the mess of letters on my page praying for a drop of courage to emerge to the surface.

“What book are you reading?”

My heart almost stops there and then. His voice startles me so much that I my body jerks forwards and a small gasp escapes my lips. I look up to see Grayson looking at me, at me.

“Sorry, did I make you jump?” he asks gently, his tone laced with concern as his eyebrows pinch together

“Just a little,” I laugh nervously, before flipping to the cover on the book, “it’s Pride and Prejudice,”

A smile tugs at his lips, I’ve never seen a man so beautiful when he smiles, “it’s a very good book.”

“You’ve read it?” I say, surprised as my eyebrows fly to forehead.

“Multiple times,” he nods smoothly.

I smile, “woah.”

There’s a few beats of silence before he offers, “you know if you ever wanted to maybe talk about your opinion on it, I’d be happy to-“

“Really?” I cut him off before he can even get his sentence out, being too shocked he’d even ask to keep myself from blurting out a reply.

“Of course,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips.

“That would be really nice,” I reply, hoping my blush wasn’t as prominent as if felt, “thank you.”

“Of course,” he says again, as if it should be natural thing for him to want to talk to me, as of it was no problem

Theres a few beats of silence. I count as the second stick by, trying to work up the courage to use my voice, to say at least something.

“Gigi tells me you swim,” I manage.

I want the ground to swallow me whole. Murder me, murder me, murder me. Why did I say that and why did I say it so awkwardly? There was nothing, I repeat, nothing, that could have worsened my situation.

Grayson looks back up from his avid note taking and replies with a sweet, “I do.”

I couldn’t sense if he was trying to end the conversation there or didn’t know how to continue it but he didn’t seem to be carrying on with his work and he didn’t break my eye contact, so of course my stupid mouth has to carry on blabbing.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, I find it quite calming,” he explains, “it gives me space to think.”

“Oh it’s one of those hobbies for you,” I say, feeling less apprehensive about naturally talking.

He nods.

“I like hobbies like that,” I continue, “things that just take you away from reality because it’s too much.”

“Do you swim?” he asks me.

“I mean I know how to but not competitively or anything like that,” I shrug.

I stare at his facial expression which is unwavering. Why can’t I read him like I can read Gigi? Is he disappointed? Pleased? Does he even care? I’m running around in circles like a headless chicken.

“What do you like to do?” he says, his voice so soft.

He asked about me. I’m taken aback. He cares enough about me to ask what I like. Maybe I’m being slightly delusional but I don’t care, sometimes delusional thoughts are just better than reality. Then again, why would he have asked if he didn’t acre? Could it just be small talk or is he genuinely concerned? I ponder my answer for far too long.

I almost reply but Savannah walks in asking a question, “hey where’s Gigi, I’ve been looking for her everywhere?”

Typical timing, I mentally sigh. I abandon my conversation with Grayson turn to her instead.

“I don’t know,” I shrug, “she said she needed to go for a couple of minutes.”

“Where?” she says, gesturing with her hands.

“I don’t know,” I repeat, “she didn’t really specify.”

“That isn’t helpful,” Savannah groans.

I raise my eyebrows slightly, silently asking her if she was okay. She moves her head forwards slightly, letting me know she is actually okay. She has dark circles under her eyes and a restless look on her face. I can only assume she’s exhausted, annoyed and probably has some sort of headache.

“Have you really checked everywhere?” Grayson pipes up.

“Why? Think you can a better job?” she challenges, arms folded and eyes narrowed at him.

“I was only asking,” Grayson shrugs, “you know what Gigi is like, she-“

“Did someone say my name?” Gigi calls from what sounds like the hallway.

Footsteps approach slowly and Gigi appears behind her twin.

Savannah turns around, “Where have you been?”

“Bathroom,” she answers but I can tell she’s lying by the way she fidgets with her thumb and finger in circular motions.

“I checked there and you weren’t,” her sister replies, her tone rather short.

“Well I went to my bedroom first and then the bathroom, you must’ve just missed me,” Gigi shrugs. Lie number two.

“Okay,” Savannah says sceptically, narrowing her eyes.

***

After my encounter with Grayson on that day I haven’t seen him since. I’ve been over to Gigi’s but she’s explained how he’s been away with his brothers for a bit. I start to lose hope and feelings feel like they might be fading. But it’s the day Gigi invites me out to the beach for the day that things sort of began to change. She texts me the night before and tells me to pack for a beach day. At first I’m a little uneasy but I get over it as she hypes me up to come, via facetime. Now I’m locking up my house and getting into her car, beach day ready. Oh the power of Gigi Grayson’s persuasion.

“We’re going to have the best day in the world,” she assures me as we walk from my door to her car.

“You say that almost every day,” I chuckle lightly

“Can you just not be a Debbie Downer for one day?” she whines at me, her eyes almost glossy.

“I am not a Debbie Downer, I am a Rachel Realist,” I reply, scrunching up my nose playfully,

“That’s not a thing,” she insists, folding her arms across her chest.

“It is now,” I laugh.

“You look more like a Ruth,” Gigi snickers, proud of herself.

My face falls flat, “hey! That’s just mean!”

She sticks her tongue out, throwing her head back as she laughs even harder at my disapproval. When she eventually calms down she looks me in the eye and tells me, “oh and by the way there’s a little surprise for you in the car.”

“Why am I scared?” I ask her, my tone failing to stay steady.

“Have fun,” she sing-sings with a little wink.

“Gigi what did you do?” I say accusingly, worry creeping up into my thumping heart.

“Nothing, nothing, nothing,” she replies, flapping her arms about for me to get into the car, but I’m still too scared.

“Three nothings equal a something,” I exclaim, panicking slightly. A million and one possibilities race through my head.

“How?” she furrows her brows.

“It’s basic math,” I say.

“Just get in,” she groans, pushing me towards the door.

I have no choice. And even after a million and one possibilities, none had prepared me for the one infront of me. Grayson Hawthorne was in the drivers’ seat. My jaw physically drops and I stare at Gigi. She would be getting an earful later. I can’t believe he’s actually here and coming with us. He turns around in his seat to look at me. Grey eyes are pinned to mine and a small smile lands on his lips.

“Hello y/n,” he says gently.

I almost melt right there and then. What is this guy doing to me? How is he doing it to me? Why is he doing it to me? The butterflies in my stomach seem to have multiplied since our last encounter.

“Hi Grayson,” I smile back

“It’s good to see you again,” he replies.

I am internally screaming. I can’t believe he just said that. I can practically feel Gigi’s excitement radiating off of her. I try and keep my cool.

“You too,” I say, then look to the passenger seat, “hey Sav.”

“Hey,” she grins at me, “you okay?”

I nod.

“Let’s drive!” Gigi yells, as Grayson starts up the engine, “oooo can I do the playlist!”

“You packed the snacks,” Savannah complains, “I want to at least get a choice in something.”

“Yeah but your music taste is horrible,” she counters, with a sweet shrug.

“Is not!” she protests, throwing her hands in the air.

I can feel Gigi’s eyes burning holes into the side of my face, I look back at her. She stares at me expectantly.

“Why are you looking at me?” I ask slowly.

“Back up,” she explains.

I am about to be in the middle of a sister argument and I really don’t want to be.

“Hey I’ve never said anything about Savannah’s music taste,” I say, forcing part of a laugh.

“Yeah but I can hear you thinking it,” Gigi tells me

“No you can’t!” I reply, then turn to Savannah, “some of it is good.”

“Ha!” she grins at Gigi, jabbing a finger towards her face.

“I don’t know why you’re ha-ing Savannah, I should be the one ha-ing, she half agreed with me,” she replies, arms folded.

“And half agreed with me, stupid,” Savannah rolls her eyes.

“Do you have to be a peace maker between the two of us?” Gigi turns back to me.

“I am not getting in the middle of this,” I tell her, my hands up in the air as if I’ve been accused of a crime.

“Good choice.”

My heart flutters. Every time he talks my heart flutters. I bite back a smile as I catch his eye in the rear-view mirror. A kind eye, a sympathetic eye, a beautiful eye.

“Oh you can stay out of it Mr I only listen to depressing old man music,” Savannah scoffs, lowering her voice an octave or so.

“It’s called being classy,” he says, “you might be unfamiliar with the concept.”

“I would punch you if you weren’t driving,” she grumbles.

“And I would easily dodge,” Grayson replies.

“Guys were making y/n uncomfortable,” Gigi pipes up suddenly.

“I’m fine,” I say quickly and insanely awkwardly.

“She’s seen us fight before Gigi,” Savannah scowls, probably still bitter about the playlist comment.

“Not like this,” she replies, “let’s all just stop, I want a nice day.”

Silence hits us like a bus. A massive double decker bus. No one speaks for a full twenty minutes. The silence is awkward and uncomfortable and I don’t think anyone knows how to break it. All I know is I’m definitely not going to be the one to break it. Suddenly it becomes apparent that Grayson flicks the radio on, as music starts to play.

The drive is mostly smooth sailing from there and conversations pick up here and there. None of which have remotely argumentative undertones, thank the lords. Though at various points Gigi would stick her head out of the window, scream or sing, and then Grayson would tell her off for being so dangerous and explain how worrying it was. I think it is adorable, personally but I think I’m a little bias. Savannah talks a bit about her upcoming basketball tournament, it’s an important season apparently and me and Gigi agree to make every game. But unfortunately for me, the person who spoke the least was Grayson.

***

When we finally arrive at the beach and park the car, we all get out stretching our stiff limbs. That’s when I take Gigi’s arm and drag her off to the side, talking in a low enough tone so no one else can hear us. I want answers and I want them fast.

“You didn’t think to tell me!” I hiss.

“It needed to be a surprise,” she replies, knowing exactly what I’m talking about.

“I don’t like surprises,” I tell her.

“How can you not like surprises!” she exclaims, looking slightly offended.

“Gigi why would you do this?” I sigh, getting back on track.

“I’m trying to help you out,” she says.

“This isn’t helping me out, it’s going to be awkward,” I groan.

“Just talk to him,” Gigi shrugs, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“I can’t, I actually can’t,” I explain.

“You’re going to,” she orders, “today.”

“Gigi, no.” I reply, a warning undertone laced into my voice.

“y/n yes, “she says firmly, “you know nothings ever going to change if you don’t make it happen.”

“Why isn’t he trying to make it happen?” I retort, arms folded.

“Because you’re not and he might think you’re uninvested,” she suggests.

“And what if he’s uninvested,” I press on.

“I don’t think he is,” Gigi tells me, “but it’s the best way to find out.”

“Gigi!” I exclaim, almost slapping her arm.

“Look if anything just have fun okay, we’re at a beach,” she shrugs.

She had done all of this for me, to help me and my sorry excuse for a love life out. And I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful but this is probably the worst thing for my love life right now. I couldn’t pull myself together around him. He makes me so nervous, so self conscious… but I suppose now I have no choice.

“You two coming?” Savannah shouts over her shoulder.

“Yeah!” I reply, beginning to walk over.

Gigi follows and we make it to the boot of the car. I look for my bag but can’t seem to find it. I do a double take but still can’t seem to spot it.

I begin to ask, “where did my-“

“I’ve got it.”

Tingles run down my spine. I don’t understand how just his voice can do this to me. It’s not normal. I turn around to see Grayson carrying several bags in his hands including mine. Our eye meet suddenly and I want to say so many thing yet each set of words just die in my throat.

“You don’t have to-“ I say.

“It’s okay,” Grayson replies.

“Seriously I don’t mind,” I reassure him, extending my hand out.

“I’ll carry it down for you,” he tells me.

“Are you sure?”

“Very,” he responds, a kindness in his eyes.

“It’s kind of heavy though,” I say, recalling how much I’d shoved into one tiny bag.

“All the more reason for you not to break your shoulder carrying it,” he grins at me.

“What if you break yours?” I say tilting my head to the side.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he shrugs simply.

I gape, wide-eyed, very tempted to ask for more details on the story but before I can he continues.

“Besides it would be worth it.”

I think I almost faint, I feel my knees go slightly weak. I really hope he meant it how I thought he meant it. It would be worth it, worth breaking his shoulder… for me? It is stupid, it’s utterly stupid that I’m overanalysing five stupid words. I shake my head and collect myself.

“Can we get coffee?” Gigi skips along the pathway.

“No,” Grayson says almost immediately.

“I fancy some too though,” Savannah says, “y/n?”

“I could do with some coffee,” I agree.

“Three over one,” Gigi says in a sing-song tone, booping the tip of her brother’s nose.

“You’re getting decaf,” Grayson tells her, sternly.

They continue a little argument, backs and forth like a ping pong game. Me and Savannah share a look stifling our giggles behind our hands. As we walk behind, I admire Grayson. I can’t help it. He radiates this beauty, that’s so addictive that is struggle to look away. I’m still so embarrassed he felt the need to carry my things… was it just a nice gesture or did he think I was weak or maybe I was just reading too much into the whole affair. My mind races with so many different thoughts, so fast and so hard I’m beginning to get a headache.

We arrive outside a drinks place and find a place to sit down. After the long drive there’s nothing more I wanted than a cold coffee. Not to mention I’d forgotten to make my morning cup this morning. My mind finally decides to slow down to a dull humming. A waitress comes over and takes our orders and I notice Grayson telling her quietly to make sure Gigi’s was decaf as her and Savannah get into deep conversation.

Then Grayson turns to me, “you know they’re starting to show old movies at the movie theatre on Saturday nights.”

“Oh that’s so cool,” I reply.

“This weekend the 1940s version of Pride and Prejudice is being screened,” he tells me.

“No way!” I exclaim my eyes wide with excitement.

He nods, with a small smile. The waitress comes around with the coffees and as soon as she’s gone I return the conversation.

“I just finished it yesterday,” I explain to him.

“And…” he asks, prompting me.

I pause for a moment and then say, “I’m conflicted.”

“And why is that?” he wonders aloud.

“Because I loved every second of it and now it’s just over,” I groan, “gone. I can never relive the first time again.”

“You can’t relive the first time but you can relive the moment again,” he says, “and it’s not over forever.”

“How so?” I reply.

“Stories shall forever continue in our minds and as long as we have the power to tell them they never really go anywhere,” Grayson says, almost wistfully.

“Huh…” I murmur, trailing off slightly, “I’d never thought of it like that before.”

“You guys should go together,” comes Gigi’s voice, surprising me quite suddenly.

“What?” I ask, more quickly and loudly than I’d intended.

“The Pride and Prejudice movie one Saturday,” she clarifies, “you both seem really into it.”

Grayson looks slightly alarmed and replies, “I’m sure y/n is very busy and I don’t want to pressure her into-“

“No I’m free, completely free,” I cut him off. I mentally face palm as I realise how horribly obvious that sounded. Gigi shoots me a knowing grin which I choose to kindly ignore.

“Oh… then would you like to go with me this Saturday?” Grayson asks, looking me dead in the eye.

His eyes are so distracting if the question hadn’t been so important I most likely would’ve forgotten how to answer.

“I would love to,” I smile, trying not to sound too eager.

We lock into this trance of staring at one another. Magnetised by our eyes, unable to be the first to look away. The smile on my lips was beginning to make my jaw ache but I didn’t cadre stop. Only an idiot would give up a moment like this.

“Hey y/n, I need the bathroom, come with me real quick?” Gigi asks, prodding my shoulder.

“Of course,” I nod, grabbing my bag, finally tearing my gaze away.

“We’ll get set up down at the beach,” Savannah says, nodding to Grayson.

“What about the coffees?” Gigi pouts.

“We’ll take them, don’t worry,” Savannah rolls her eyes with a smile.

As soon as we’re out of earshot and view, Gigi holds my hands a squeals and so do I. After little jumping up and down, hugging and screaming and a lot of weird looks we take a second to absorb what just happened.

“I’m going to a movie with Grayson this Saturday,” I finally say it out loud, the reality actually hitting me for the first time. I didn’t realise how in shock I’d been until now.

“It’s basically a date,” Gigi says.

“Literally,” I shrug, ignoring we’re completely delusional.

“I think he likes you,” she sings, giggling a little.

“That’s because you want it to happen,” I sigh.

“No I saw him looking at you,” she tells me.

“Well yeah, I was speaking to him,” I deadpan.

“No, when you weren’t looking at him dummy!” she exclaims, rolling her eyes melodramatically.

“You sure?” I ask her, my voice small and uncertain.

She nods enthusiastically.

“Gigi I can’t thank you enough,” I gush, a sudden surge of gratitude coming over me.

“Why?” she replies, looking very confused.

“You literally made it happen, you’re the reason I’m going out with him on Saturday,” I explain, suddenly regretting being so mad at her earlier for inviting Grayson as a surprise.

“All in a days work,” she winks at me.

“I will name my firstborn child after you, to show my gratitude,” I say.

“Awwwwhhh a little Gigi Hawthorne,” she says, putting her hand over her chest.

“A little Gigi Hawthorne.” I confirm, “hopefully anyway.”

We decide that we probably should get back to the others now and make our way down onto the beach together, laughing so hard we struggle to keep ourselves up right or walk in remotely straight lines. People give us strange looks but our bellies are aching and our lungs are dying far too much for us to care.

“Can you see them?” I ask, short of breath from wheezing.

“No…” Gigi says, giggling.

“Oh there’s Grayson,” I say, spotting our beach towels and umbrellas set up, with Grayson lying under them.

“Of course you spotted him,” she teases me.

“Shut up!” I exclaim, slapping her arm.

She laughs again as we make our way towards a very shirtless Grayson. I mean I’d seen him without a shirt before but today it was just different. The sun bounces off of his skin at a perfect angle, and the crown of blonde hair on his head glows.

“Quit gawking,” Gigi snaps me out of my trance, “that’s still my brother you know.”

“I am not gawking,” I hiss at her.

“Oh please, there’s drool running down the side of your mouth,” she tells me, pointing.

“Really?” I ask, self consciously wipe the side of my mouth.

Gigi winks at me laughing. I roll my eyes, unamused and slap the side of her arm.

“You’re not funny,” I say.

“I think that was hilarious,” she grins.

Grayson now spots us and waves us over. We both walk a little faster towards him. Savannah and Grayson had clearly already set up the umbrellas and beach towels perfectly, though I couldn’t see Savannah with him.

“What’s got you so smiley Gigi?” he asks, as we approach.

“Oh nothing,” she sing songs, smiling at me, “where’s Savannah?”

“I think she went to go and hire a surf board,” he explains.

“Ooooo I want to do that!” Gigi says, jumping up and down with excitement.

“It’s over there,” he points her into the right direction.

“Coming?” she turns to me.

“Yeah I’ll pass,” I scoff, imagining what an idiot I’d make of myself on a surf board.

“You’d be missing out,” Gigi tells me, poking my stomach.

“I’ll settle for missing out this time,” I reply.

“Okay then,” she shrugs.

Gigi rushes to take off her shirt and shorts, ready in her bathing suit and promptly runs off, far too excitedly as I sit myself down on a beach towel beside Grayson. I offer him a small smile which he returns with a wider one. I quickly look away as I shed my shirt and shorts, leaving me feeling very exposed in my bathing suit. When I look back towards him, I’m aware that he too has looked away. My cheeks heat up at the thought of him being so gentlemanly as to give me some privacy. I begin to rustle around in my bag in search for my sunscreen when a familiar voice freezes me in my tracks.

“Hey,” Grayson says.

I look up, happy I can now use sunburn as an excuse for my flushed cheeks, “hi.”

“How have you been?” he asks me shyly.

“Okay actually, yeah,” I nod, “how have you been, I haven’t seen you in a while?”

“Yeah I’ve been with my brothers a bit,” he explains.

“All okay?” I make sure.

He nods, “more than okay. My older brother is getting married.”

“Oh my gosh that’s amazing,” I beam.

He smiles, “they’re planning it for three months time.”

I put a hand over my heart, “that’s going to be lovely.”

“Yeah, he has a wonderful fiancée and I think he’ll be really happy,” he tells me, a real brightness in his eyes when he talks about them. It warms my heart.

“I’m glad,” I reply.

We fall into a silence and I grab the sunscreen out of my bag and begin to apply.

“Do you need some help?”

It takes everything in me to not let my jaw drop. I freeze mid movement and don’t know what to do with myself. There are fireworks going off in my brain and my heart is close to exploding.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” I mumble shyly, looking down.

“Of course not,” he smiles, holding out his hand for the bottle.

I pass it to him and turn around, delicately moving my hair out of the way. I feel his hands soothingly rub the liquid in, you’d think he was a professional masseuse. He’s so gentle and careful with my skin. I’m so glad he can’t see my face right now because I don’t think I’ve ever been more red.

“Sorry,” I say quietly.

“Why are you apologising?” he asks, as his hand slips under my strap.

I bite back a gasp to answer his question, “because you have to rub sunscreen into my back.”

“I didn’t realise it was an offensive affair,” he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“You know what I mean,” I smile.

“I’m not sure I do,” he says, pressing for me to carry on.

“Is it not awkward for you?” I ask.

“No, I’m helping a friend out, nothing awkward about that,” he replies and I can hear the shrug in his tone.

Friend. The word echoed through my brain bouncing off every surface. It would torture me at every waking hour, replaying like a broken record. He said ‘friend’. But how else was he meant to word it, how else would I have worded it. But if he felt the same way to me as I did to him would he have still said ‘friend’. Why am I like this? Analysing every second word the guy says. I need to stop driving myself insane.

“I suppose,” I say, trying to not let my disappointment shine through as I turn back around to face him.

He hands me back the bottle, “about earlier, if you felt pressured into Saturday I’m not going to be offended if you don’t want to go.”

“No I do, really,” I say, “why? Did you not want to?”

And suddenly I was on edge, that ‘friend’ comment had really thrown me off and now I was second guessing everything he mentioned.

“No, I absolutely did,” he tells me, an honest look in his eyes, “but I was just making sure.”

“Thanks,” I smile sweetly.

I’m about to continue when Gigi appears in front of me, out of breath and slightly wet.

“What happened to surf boards?” I ask her, shielding my eyes from the sun.

“I fell off too many times and gave up,” she shrugs, “so you’re coming in the water with me now.”

“No I’m okay here,” I say, forcing a small laugh.

Gigi doesn’t even bother replying and instead grabs my arms and pulls me forwards, breaking out into a full on sprint towards the water. I try to drag her back but I’m too weak from laughing so hard, it’s like all of my limbs have gone to jelly.

“And now we go in,” she says, gripping onto my hands tighter.

“It’s gonna be cold!” I whine, taking a few steps back.

“Oh shush, you don’t know until you try,” she scolds me, bringing me back forwards.

I dip a my foot in and immediately retract, “I’ve tried, it’s cold.”

“Come in a little,” she pouts, “for me.”

I groan and oblige. After a few steps in I decide it isn’t as bad as I’d thought until we’re about thigh deep, then I want to turn around.

“No you can’t, we’re barely even in yet!” Gigi exclaims.

“I’m in enou-“

I don’t get to finish my sentence as I’m cut off by my own scream on surprise promptly followed by a face full of water. Trust Gigi to push me in. Before I come back up to breathe, I swim underneath her and tackle her legs so she too topples over. When I get to the surface I’m soaking and salty and highly unamused in contrast with Gigi’s bright eyes and giggles.

“See, wasn’t that fun?” she grins at me.

“No, I’m wet,” I grit through my teeth, trying to hide a smile.

“Well duh… it’s the sea,” she tells me.

I roll my eyes and the put a hand up to block out the sun’s glare. But two people catch my eye.

“Is that Savannah and… Grayson?” I question.

Two heads of golden hair, contrasting with the blue of the ocean, ride on surf boards, tackling waves with smiles on their faces. They look more like siblings than usual.

“Is he surfing? Did you know he could surf? He looks like a professional,” I babble suddenly.

“I didn’t know he could surf,” she says, “then again Gray can probably do any sport ever.”

“He definitely knows how to surf,” I reply, not being able to tear my eyes away from his precision and focus.

“Is that a green flag for you,” she teases, “are you into the surfer boys?”

“Oh put a sock in it,” I laugh, pushing her into the water.

She comes back up gasping for air and laughing, “hey!”

“Payback,” I shrug, “and I’ll do it again if you don’t shut it about my love life.”

“You were thanking me earlier,” Gigi grumbles at me.

“Not anymore,” I sing.

“So bipolar,” she rolls her eyes playfully.

“Shhhh I’m trying to watch!” I say, my eyes still fixated on Grayson.

“You mean stare at his abs,” she raises her eyebrow.

“Well they’re really nice too,” I reply, giving up on being in denial.

She wrinkles her nose, “my brother right there.”

“Hey you brought up the abs thing,” I defend.

“Because you’re staring at them!” she exclaims, looking very disgusted.

Before I can reply to her Grayson catches my eye and for a moment it’s just him there and no one else. He beckons me over with a hand.

“Was that at me?” I whisper to Gigi.

“Who else is he signilling at?” she asks.

We turn around simultaneously and see an old man behind us with a snorkel on. He shoots us a dirty look and we turn around, barely keeping it together. As soon as our eyes meet we start absolutely dying with laughter.

“I think it’s safe to say it’s you,” Gigi wheezes, holding her belly.

“I’m going to swim over,” I say once I’ve pulled myself back together.

“I thought you didn’t like the sea,” she challenges me.

“I do now,” I grin at her.

She shakes her head smiling, “I would be mad at you but I really want a Gigi junior.”

“Exactly,” I say, still trying to work out how I’m going to get out of calling my firstborn child Gigi.

“Don’t do anything naughty,” she winks at me, with a cheeky kind of smile.

“Gigi! We’re on a public beach and we’re not even a couple!” I exclaim, reminding her.

“You never know,” she shrugs

“What have you been reading?” I ask her, eyebrows arched and arms folded.

“Never you mind that,” she says, avoiding eye contact.

“Dirty romance again?” I giggle, poking her shoulder.

“Go get yourself a boyfriend,” she says, detracting from the conversation, “he’s waiting.”

I look over to Grayson who still has his gaze fixated on me.

“We’re coming back to this conversation later,” I tell her.

I don’t give her a chance to object as I dive into the water, out of my depth and swim over to Grayson. When I reach him a rest my arms on his surf board, keeping me afloat.

“Since when could you surf?” I look up.

“Since I was about ten,” he tells me, “my grandfather took me and my brothers.”

Beat.

“Come up, here.”

“On the board?” I ask.

He nods and I ungracefully attempt to clamber onto the surf board. I struggle up and the fall right back down, feeling like a world class idiot in front of Grayson.

He smiles softly at me, “need a hand?”

“Nope,” I grunt, slipping once again, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure about that,” he chuckles, his head titled slightly sideways.

“Yes,” I say determinedly and then, “… actually no, can I have some help please?”

“Here,” he laughs, extending his hand, “grab onto my wrist, the grip will be stronger.”

I do as his says, holding on tightly to his wrists, I push upwards as he pulls me towards him. His hand slides around my waist, which was now exposed out of the water and he lifts me up onto the surfboard. Once he’s sure I’m on there, he slowly removes his hands. My waist tingles where his fingers have been and so does my face as it rises in temperature.

“Ever been on a surf board before?” he asks me.

“Is it that obvious?” I grin.

“No,” he laughs kindly.

I give him a look, my eyebrows raised, letting him know he doesn’t have to lie to me to make me feel better.

“Well maybe,” he says, a little sheepishly.

“How come you didn’t surf earlier then?” I ask him. He could’ve gone with Savannah and Gigi to hire a board but he chose not to, which made me curious to say the least.

“I didn’t want to leave you on your own,” Grayson shrugs.

My pulse quickens and my face lights up. But I play it cool, or at least I’d like to think I do.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle myself,” I tell him.

“I know but I didn’t want you to feel alone,” he says. He says it like he actually cares, like I actually mean something to him. And it feels magical.

“Thanks,” I say, “so what are we doing?”

“Paddling out, then we’ll stand up,” he explains.

“You’re joking,” I scoff. There is no way that I could possibly do that.

“The waves are babies on this beach,” he says, gesturing to the seemingly unthreatening waves.

“They’re still waves and may I remind you I’ve never done this before,” I reply, eyeing the water intently.

“There’s a first time for everything,” he murmurs.

“You surprise me with your spontaneity,” I hum in response.

“And you surprise me with your reluctance,” he replies.

“I’m not reluctant!” I defend.

He shoots me a pointed look as I sit there with my arms folded.

“I’m not reluctant,” I sigh before hesitating slightly, “…I’m just scared.”

“You don’t need to be scared,” he tells me, “I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen.”

“Okay….” I say hesitantly, “what do we do first?”

“First we need to paddle out, so we have to lay down on the surface board,” he explains, showing me what to do.

I mirror his actions and slowly lay down on my belly beside him, as he lifts an arm and puts it over my shoulders, so he has one hand on each side of the board.

“Feeling good?” he checks.

“Good isn’t quite the word I’d use to describe whatever I’m feeling,” I reply, trying to steady the shake in my voice.

“Okay, now we’re going to paddle out,” he instructs, “you think you want to?”

“Yeah,” I breathe

Slowly and cautiously, feeling a little more comfortable with Grayson by my side, I help paddle out until it feels like we’re in the middle of the ocean. The middle of a vast expanse of salty blue water.

“You see the wave coming up now,” he says, his voice soothing and calm.

I hum in reply.

“We’re going to catch that one,” he explains.

“Okay.”

“I’ll stand first and then I’ll help you.”

I agree. He stands up with ease and good balance, like he’s done it a thousand times before. I presume he has.

“Do you trust me?” Grayson asks.

“Yes,” I say with no hesitation.

“Hold my hands,” he instructs me.

I take his hands in mine and hold them tightly, until my knuckles have gone white and my hand bright red.

“Stand up,” he tells me.

I shake my head, convincing myslef that there are at least eighty different ways to die right this second.

“Stand up, I’ve got you,” he reassures me.

“What if I fall?” I ask worriedly, my voice unfamiliar.

“Then I’ll catch you,” Grayson says, his eyes twinkling.

I stand up, wobbling a little. He catches me by the waist, his palm fitting perfectly in the dip, stabling me. Goosebumps raise on the surface of my skin and I can’t tell if it’s because I’m cold and shocked. Though my face feels a little too heated for it to be blamed on the cold.

“Spread your arms out,” he tells me.

I slowly spread my arms out and his hands don’t leave my waist. It’s my very own titanic moment, though I hope if this is going anywhere it doesn’t have the same end result. And suddenly it’s just him and me in the middle of the ocean alone on a surf board and nothing and no one else matters.

“Ready?” he say into my ear.

“Ready.”

The wave is not a big as I’d thought it would be and we easily ride it. I even find myself laughing and slightly enjoying myself. That lasted for the grand total of five whole second. Then I slip off into the water. I’m quick to kick my way to the surface and grab ahold of the surfboard. Grayson is on his knees looking a little pale, worry lines creasing his forehead.

“Are you okay?” he rushes, lifting me up onto the surfboard.

“Yeah,” I cough, sea water residue in my mouth.

“Are you sure?” he asks worriedly, checking my pulse, vision, hearing and mobility. He placed a gentle finger under my chin and tips my head back.

“I’m sure,” I chuckle, tilting my head back forwards, “but I think that’s enough surfing for me.”

“Understandable,” he nods, dropping his hand, “come on, let’s get back onto shore.”

Together we paddle back to shore, our bodies so close to each others it’s making me nervous. We spot Gigi waiting on the beach for us, looking excited. Before we get there Grayson turns his head towards me.

“You know I’m proud of you,” he says.

“Proud?” I ask trying to focus on the conversation and not how close our faces were.

“You gave surfing a go,” he says, “even though you were scared.”

“Well I had a good teacher,” I murmur, our noses almost touching.

“Thanks,” he smiles and… did he just blush?! I shake the idea out of my head, it’s probably just the lighting or sunburn.

We drift back onto the sand and Gigi runs up to us, beaming, “I found a crab and made friends.”

I shiver, “a crab?”

“He’s cute!” she exclaims

“He?” I ask.

“I’ve names him Bubblez with a ‘z’ at the end and I’m emotionally attached,” she tells me.

She looks at Grayson, her eyes wide and hopeful. A pleading look on her face.

“You’re not keeping the crab as a pet,” Grayson deadpans.

“How did you know I was going to ask?” she groans.

“Because you tried to adopt eight stray kittens and two stray dogs in the last month,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Gigi replies but I don’t hear the rest of the conversation as someone grabs my attention.

“Hey y/n! Help me drag my board in!” Savannah hollers at me.

My brow furrow, Savannah doesn’t ask for help. Ever. Let alone to pull in a surf board, something I knew she’d done a thousand times and was plenty strong enough to do herself. I know something is up, I just can’t figure out what.

“Meet you back at the umbrellas,” I smile at Grayson.

“See you there,” he replies.

I walk over and grab one side of Savannah’s board, waiting for her to say something.

“I thought you didn’t like him,” she hisses, her voice low, almost dangerous.

“Me too,” I shrug, not even bother to hide it from her anymore.

“y/n!” she exclaims.

“Savannah!” I mock her back.

She rolls her eyes and tugs the board sighing, “please think it through.”

“That’s what I told you about Duncan and you didn’t,” I snap back

She flinches, like I’ve hit her across the face. She drops her side of the board so I drop mine. Guilt floods through me, but I push it back. This needs to be addressed. She readjusts herself and holds her head high.

“It’s different,” she says, trying to mask the tremor in her voice and failing.

“No it’s not,” I counter.

“Yes it is,” she insists, her eyes fiery.

“Grayson is a good person, he cares about you and Gigi-“

“How would you know?” she snaps, cutting me off.

“Because he’s told me,” I yell, “when he talks about you two his whole face lights up.”

She looks taken aback and loses her words for a minute so I take the opportunity to continue.

“He’s kind and gentle, why is it so bad that I want someone like that?” I ask her.

“Because…” she falters, “because if you break up whose side do I take.”

“Hold your horses there, we’re not even together,” I try to smile.

“Hypothetically then,” she says.

“His,” I shrug, “and I’d understand, he’s family.”

“So are you.”

My heart swells and a lump forms in my throat. I’d always been close to Gigi, we’d been like sisters from the start but Savannah and I took a lot of warming up before we became closer. We butt heads often, both being strong characters. Never once did I think she viewed me like a sister. I never thought I was of that importance to her, that significance in her life. But the fact that she does really hit me hard. And now I’m the one who’s lost her words.

“And I don’t want him to steal you from me,” she murmurs, her eyes a little glossy.

“Oh Sav,” I say, wrapping my arms around her, “you think I’d let him?”

“Love makes you do stupid things,” she chokes, “I should know.”

“Then if I do I give you full permission to slap me until i come to my senses,” I joke.

“Okay,” she laughs, wiping a few stray tears away.

“Come on,” I say, picking up my side of the board, “the others will be wondering about us.”

She nods and lifts the board as we begin walking again in a comfortable silence.

“y/n?” she says quietly, gently, almost carefully.

“Yeah?”

“I am really happy you like Grayson and if you guys do ever get together, I would be very happy for you,” she says, “I want you to know that.”

“Thank you,” I smile, “I still think you can do better than Duncan, but if you love him I’m behind you. Except if he treats you like dirt, then I’ll take him bungee jumping without the rope.”

She giggles a little and then grows serious, “he’s good enough to me.”

I don’t want to argue anymore so leave it at that. But my mind is screaming ‘is good enough, really enough?’ I’d have the conversation another day, I decide. We trek back up the beach to Gigi and Grayson who are sunbathing on the beach towels. As we approach Gigi sits up and flicks her sunglasses onto her head.

“What took you so long?” she calls.

“I’m like a donkey with mitten and couldn’t keep hold of the board,” I lie.

“Classic y/n,” she winks playfully.

“Hey!” I complain.

“I practically dragged the whole thing up here single handedly,” Savannah adds.

“Did not,” I mutter.

“I was thinking we should all go for ice cream,” Gigi says, “they have this ice cream bar where you can add as many toppings as you like for free.”

“I didn’t see that when we walked to the beach,” Grayson replied a, joining the conversation.

“Well you obviously have no priorities then,” his sister responds, offended and shocked.

“Priorities?” he questions.

“Beach priority number one, always look for the best ice cream spot,” she exclaims, “you should know this! Have I taught you nothing?”

“The only thing you’ve taught me is to not give you coffee or any drink that is remotely caffeinated,” he says and I try not to laugh.

“Talk to the hand,” Gigi grumbles at him, thrusting her palm into his face, then turning to me and Savannah, “now who’s coming for ice cream?”

“I’m in,” she shrugs.

“Same here,” I nod.

“I’ll come too,” Grayson sighs, but part of me think he actually wants to come.

Her face lights up and she jumps up excitedly, “yay, let’s go!”

We all walk back up the beach, following Gigi who is practically sprinting to show us the way. We eventually reach a little establishment she takes us into. It’s cool inside and all of the walls are brightly coloured, so much so it hurts my eyes a little. There’s every ice cream flavour one could imagine and even more toppings to choose from. Gigi looks like she’s in heaven. I grab a scoop of my favourite flavour and moderately top it with a few bits and pieces I liked the look of before I went and paid. I notice Grayson already standing there with his cone.

“Wow I didn’t pin you as a vanilla kind of guy,” I comment, my eyebrow raised in surprise as I analyse and severely judge his ice cream choices.

“What did you pin me as then?” he says, the corner of his mouth turned upwards slightly.

“I don’t know something like coffee or rum and raisin,” I shrug.

“Do you think I’m a sixty year old man?” he asks.

I laugh, almost choking on my own ice cream, “no, I just thought you had…“ I struggle for the right words, “…refined taste.”

“Saved yourself there,” he teases, “that was a close one.”

I poke my tongue out at him and then realise that maybe that was a little too comfortable of me. But he’s laughing so I take it as a good sign. As Gigi finishes paying for her extremely colourful icecream cone, she links arms with me and begins to tell me all about the extravagant flavours and extras she’s topped the ice cream with.

***

The four of us walk down the beach, eating our ice creams. Most of the way it is silent, with odd pockets of random conversation dotted about the place. Then we lay on the beach for hours, sunbathing, sleeping, just being. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a while. Occasionally one or two of us would leave to take another dip into the sea. Gigi and I are lying on a towel playing with the sand on either side of us, letting it tickle our fingertips as we gossip about school drama and hot celebrities. Though I don’t think there’s any celebrity I could’ve found to rival Grayson Hawthorne right now. I mean he’s just sat there looking gorgeous. How could someone be doing so little and still looking so gorgeous? I can’t wait to tell Gigi about all the things that had happened between us today, I’m practically ready to burst.

“Can we stay until sunset?” I ask, leaning my cheek on Gigi’s shoulder, “we have to see this beach at sunset.”

“We can stay until sunset,” she replies.

“What do we do now then?” Savannah asks.

“What we’re doing is fine,” I shrug.

“We’re not doing anything,” she says, bored.

The thing about Savannah is, she needs to move, like all of the time. The art of doing nothing and just relaxing, Savannah did not enjoy. I made a small bet with myself that she was going to suggest we okay a sport soon.

“Precisely,” I smile, lying back down, closing my eyes,

“What about a game of volleyball?” she suggests.

Won the bet then.

“That sounds good,” Gigi agrees.

“I’ll play,” I say, sitting back up and trying not to sound as halfhearted as I was.

“Gray?” Savannah asks.

“Alright,” he nods.

“Good you’re on my team,” she says.

“Hey! No fair!” Gigi exclaims immediately.

“Ouch Gigi,” I mumble.

“Sorry but we have to face the facts here,” she says with a hand up, “when’s the last time you played volleyball?”

“I don’t know,” I respond.

“Exactly our problem,” she says, “Grayson probably has a secret volleyball career and-“

“I do not,” Grayson interrupts her, sharply.

“And Savannah is good at all sports, our odds aren’t really looking good,” Gigi continues, completely ignoring Grayson’s comment.

“Then let’s just have fun,” I reply.

“Okay,” she grins at me, then looks to the other two and narrows her eyes, “prepare to go down!”

“Pssstt, Gigi,” I whisper-yell so the other can still hear, “I thought you just said we’re going to lose.”

“But we can lose with confidence,” she replies, optimistically.

I shake my head laughing, “you serve first then.”

***

After several volleyball matches of the other two beating us in every game bar one, which Gigi and I would not shut up about, we sit and watch the sunset, per my request. I sit on my beach towel in between Grayson and Gigi staring at the sky covered in shades of pink, orange and yellow.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” I sigh.

“It is,” Grayson murmurs.

I glance towards him and he quickly looks away. Gigi nudges me and I turn to her, there’s a smile plastered on her face. I jerk my eyebrows together asking her to explain. She mouths ‘he was looking at you’. My eyes mirror the size of saucers as I silently ask her if she’s sure. She nods and my heart thumps loudly against my rib cage.

***

It’s only when the sun starts setting down and the sky is a little dark that someone suggests we pack up and head back to the car. By the time we finally reach the car the sky is fully dark and only lit with little twinkling stars.

“I’ll drive,” Grayson offers, once we’ve stuffed the boot full of our things.

“No you drove on the way here, so it’s my turn now,” Savannah says, nicking the keys.

“I call shotgun!” Gigi yells quickly.

I did the math. Me and Grayson were in the back together. Matchmaker Gigi strikes again. I open the door to sit down but before I can get in the seat Gigi dumps the sandy beach bag on the left seat.

“You wouldn’t mind sitting in the middle right?” she asks, loud enough for the others to hear.

In the middle. Right next to Grayson. Of course. I don’t know whether to smile or dread the experience, so I do both.

“Not at all,” I reply, situating myself in the middle seat.

I fumble around with my seatbelt to avoid eye contact with Grayson. Our bare legs are touching, sending the butterflies in my stomach fluttering and tumbling all over the place. Savannah start to drive and the bumps in the road just mean the two of us keep accidentally knocking each other. I try and hide the blush that keeps blossoming darker each time we touch but eventually give up. Another jolt, another spark of electricity shoots across my body. But by about twenty minutes into the drive exhaustion catches up on me, binding my mind together like some sort of kidnapper. I can feel my eyes drooping down and my head lolling to one side.

“Are you tired?” Grayson murmurs.

My heart throbs my chest, so much so I could hear the beating in my ears. I look up into his pools of grey and I nod, yawning a little.

“Lean on me,” he whispers.

“What?” I blurt out, as soon as I’ve processed the three words. I practically jump out of my seat, suddenly awake and alert, my eyes wide in shock.

“Lean on me,” he repeats, just as softly as before.

“Are you sure?” I ask him, still trying to mask my pure shock.

“Would I have asked if I wasn’t?” he replies smoothly.

“Thanks,” I say with a small smile.

Hesitantly I rest my head on his shoulder and attempt to relax. I breathe in. He smells divine. The cotton shirt he wears is so soft against my skin. He places his head on top of mine and I feel reality begin to slip away as darkened swallows me whole.

***

A jolt awakes me, but not fully as I’m still groggy. Even thought I’m half asleep I’m very aware I’m leaning on Grayson Hawthorne. I can smell him.

“Where are we?” I murmur sleepily.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers, “we’re quite far from home.”

Comfortably situated, resting on Grayson, I listen I his soothing voice as my eyes slowly lull themselves shut again and sleep becomes my captor for the next couple of hours.

***

I wake up disoriented and confused. I’m no longer in the car. I can feel that my face is pressed up against someone’s chest. I open my eyes and realise that I’m in Grayson’s arms, bridal style.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, suddenly sitting up.

This puts Grayson off balance and I begin to fall to the ground very ungracefully. Luckily he catches my waist just before I hit the ground. His hands are strong and steady on the small of my back.

“Sorry,” I murmur embarrassed, as he helps me back up, his hands only dropping from my waist when I’m upright and completely stable. They linger for a little longer than necessary but I’m not complaining.

“No, my apologies I didn’t mean to drop you,” he says.

“If you didn’t I think you’d have a broken wrist,” I reply, “so it’s a good job you did.”

“Gigi suggested I carry you in as you were asleep,” he explains suddenly.

“Did she now?” I say, almost smiling. What would I do without my Gigi?

He nods and then passes me my key, “she found them in your bag.”

“Good to know my best friend respects my privacy and dignity,” I grin, a little sarcasm playing on my tongue.

“Of course,” Grayson plays along.

“Well thanks for letting me use your shoulder as a pillow and for carrying me to the door,” I say, a little awkwardly.

“No problem,” he smiles, “should I pick you up from here on Saturday?”

“Are you sure?” I ask him, “I don’t want it to be any trouble, I can just take the bus.”

“Of course I’m sure,” he nods, “maybe we could go to dinner together before?”

“I’d like that very much,” I beam, my cheeks heating up.

“I’ll get Gigi to pass me on your number incase I need to contact you,” Grayson suggests.

“Yes, I’ll get her to do the same for me,” I agree.

“Got any books on the go since Pride and Prejudice?” he asks me, continuing the conversation, making me very happy.

“Haven’t had a chance,” I sigh.

“Think you can wait another day to start one?” he asks me.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” he grins, “but can you?”

“I think so,” I say sceptically, “what do you have planned?”

“You’ll see,” he replies, a little mischievously.

“When Gigi says that I get scared,” I laugh.

“Well I’m not Gigi,” he replies, “I’ll see you Saturday then.”

“See you on Saturday.”

a/n: I AM SOOOO SORRY. I don’t even know why this took me 12 billion years to write but it is finally here and for anyone reading this I really appreciate your patience with me. I hope you enjoyed PART 3 and you guessed it… PART 4 is in the works!! Hopefully that one will take a bit less time

I didn’t realise how long this part was until I’d written it. I actually had to cut PART 3 in half because it was so long but hope you enjoyed this!! Thanks for reading my loves 🤍🤍 this fic is the only thing keeping me sane waiting for TGG

btw I know nothing about surfing or surf boards so don’t come at me.

and a quick thank you to anyone who participated in my little Grayson icecream poll, you’ll notice the results have been put to good use… though I don’t personally agree that it would be vanilla.

TIG masterlist

[sageteapost]

Hi! i saw you write for ffxv and read the dating drabbles you made and wanted to request more expanded hcs for Noctis if thats okay? Like what else would come with dating them, love language, jealousy level and maybe even tropes if that's okay- pls feel free to add or change anything to this broad request 💀 tysm in advance and stay safe 💕

❝Hmm, I see...❞

authors note: ABSOLUTELY ANON!! Could always write more about Noct haha. And no worries, I've been cooking for a long time about this.

cw + tags: Mostly fluff! Gets spicy for like, a split second, but that's it. Not proofread, sorry for any typos! [Established relationship. GN! Reader.]

summary: A more expanded list of dating headcanons about Noctis from this post!

As for love languages, Noctis is tied with physical touch and quality time. Surprisingly, he's a big cuddler and very affectionate. At least in private. He's a bit shyer about it in public especially with the title of Prince and trying to keep proper images sometimes, but he's much more open about it during more intimate moments.

Kisses, cuddles (just be prepared to deal with how he becomes a koala), the whole thing. Just as long as it's all in the safety and comfort of being at home.

He's actually kind of playful with his affection. It's actually a bit more different than from what you'd might expect.

And if he's feeling like it, he can be handsy. At first, he's very shy about it, but slowly grows more comfortable and wilder.

Very soon, you'll have to deal with a sleepy prince who loves to nip at your neck sometimes.

Like I said in the previous post, Noct loves spooning. Not only does he sleep better, but he loves your body heat.

I think he's the type of guy to absolutely cover himself in blankets to feel nice and toasty, but also loves to blast the AC so it's freezing (me).

So, if you like sleeping toasty with weighted blankets as he spoons you, you're in luck.

As for how Noctis deals with jealousy, it's more on the quieter side compared to someone like Gladio. But definitely still enough to stand up and say something.

However, he's not the type of guy to immediately jump the gun if anyone started talking with you. He trusts you. It's only when they get a bit too close or try to be handsy is when he'll step in.

By confronting them, he doesn't make a huge spectacle about it. He'd simply just whisk you away. Maybe make a quick snide comment on how you're taken or just make up an excuse to say you're needed somewhere else.

Noct makes it quick. Either because it's the royal status that prevents him from doing too much or the fact, he's not super into making a huge spectacle out of things.

This may fall into some of the things you'll have to deal with in dating him, but it's not really the fear of losing you to someone else but more of the feeling that maybe he's not good enough for you. How you deserve someone else who isn't riddled with anxieties or the heavy duty he carries on his shoulders as the future king of Lucis.

Noct will become extra cuddly and clingy afterwards. Gently kissing you everywhere as if to reassure himself that you're there.

But what really helps him and makes him feel better, not just after moments of jealousy, is when you tell him those words.

'You're good enough', 'you're worth every single second of each day,' and 'I love you, regardless of who you are and the burdens that may follow you.'

ANY of those words of reassurance or a variant of them will make him melt.

Come now, the man has had very little chances where he could choose what he wanted for his own sake and happiness, and you reassuring him that he's deserving of it makes him over the moon.

[wellgoslowly]

Hello! I was wondering if I can get a request please. The reader works for Lockwood and Co but she has the complete opposite personality of what Lockwood has (ex: reader is more of listener rather than a talker and when she is around new people she is more on the quiet side until she gets comfortable around them) and Lockwood falls for the reader. Thank you!

Ain't a Life a Many Splendored Thing?

a/n: a bit of a shorter post but I think I might make it into a series!! I loved this prompt and I loved writing it sm!!! it's not much but I didn't want to write more before knowing if yall would want a part 2 :) also yes the title is from hello hello by elton john from the hit movie gnomeo and juliet.

pairing: lockwood x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none :)

tags: @hufflepuff1619 (thank you for the request!) @oblivious-idiot @tangledinlove @ikeasupremacy @givemea-dam-break @neewtmas [if u guys want to be put on a tag list just lmk in the comments!!! also if i missed anyone im sorry!!!!]

The moment that you stepped into 35 Portland Row for your interview, it was obvious to everyone that Lockwood was a goner.

You two were clearly exact opposites- where he was confident and cocky, you seemed more reserved and humble. Where he was reckless, you seemed calculated and exact. And it was now evident that while he found it natural to talk in order to prevent awkward silences around new people (especially those whom he found to be very attractive), you were perfectly comfortable with listening to him ramble.

“And right up here is the attic.” He was saying now as the two of you climbed up the creaking stairs. “You've met Lucy, obviously- this is her room. And yours as well, if you choose to live here.” He watched you take in the room, filled with Lucy's drawings and scarce decorations on the walls, your eyes lingering on the small bed hastily shoved in the corner. He looked at you with apprehension, admittedly a little worried that you would turn to him and say that you'd changed your mind and reject the employment offer.

Instead, you turned to him with a slight smile on your face and said, “Is it ok with Lucy? If I stay here?” Instantly, Lockwood was filled with relief. “It was her idea, actually.” He said softly, watching you nod in understanding. “Alright then.” You said, a sense of finality in your voice. Lockwood smiled and watched as you walked to set the small bag of belongings you had taken to your interview on top of your new bed. “I'll leave you to it, then. Dinner should be ready soon.” He said to you. You didn't respond, but Lockwood wasn't worried- he knew exactly what your soft smile was meant to convey.

------

“Lockwood, I just- I don't know if she fits here.” It had been only 3 days after you had officially joined Lockwood & Co., but Lockwood wasn't necessarily surprised by the remark George threw him from across the table that morning. You and Lucy were asleep, still tired after facing an infuriating ambush from a large cluster of Type Ones while on a Type Two case.

“What do you mean, George?” Lockwood asked as he took a sip of his tea. “I mean, she's just so quiet. She never speaks, and when she does it's either in one word responses or a couple phrases- even then, she mostly only ever talks to you. I'm just worried about how well she'll be able to communicate in the future.” George explained, his hands moving wildly about.

“You haven't seen her in the field, George- she's brilliant. Her sight is comparable to mine, and her touch… it's like Lucy with her Listening. Yes, she's a bit… reserved, but I'm sure she just needs to warm up to us, is all.” Lockwood smiled at his friend as he took another sip of tea, peeling open the front page of a new issue of True Hauntings.

“Don't think I didn't notice how you avoided the comment about how she only seems to talk to you.” George grumbled, taking a bite out of a piece of toast. Lockwood didn't look up from the text on the page in front of him as he mumbled a soft “I don't know what you're talking about.” George scoffed in response, starting to say something that sounded a lot like “you're clearly gone for her, why do I even try”, when you walked in, hair amess and blinking sleep out of your eyes.

The kitchen fell into immediate silence, George's face flushing in embarrassment as you looked at him, your expression unreadable. “If you're going to talk about me, you could at least do it while I'm around.” Lockwood looked up at that as he didn't notice you silently entering the kitchen. He took in your sleep-addled state and the look of fear in George's eyes. And then you were softly smiling. “I was joking, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.” You said before sitting down next to Lockwood.

George snorted. “I think that's the most you've said to me the entire time you've been here.” George said, apparently taking your joke to heart. Lockwood softly kicked George under the table, but you just laughed a little.

Deciding to change the subject, Lockwood turned to you with a smile. “I'm sorry for him. What he meant to say was good morning. Would you like some tea?” You smiled at Lockwood, and he was hit with the thought that it mightve been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. “Yes, please.” You responded. Lockwood nodded, getting up to turn the kettle on once more.

The morning passed like that- you and George softly trading barbs with one another, Lockwood making you your tea and toast, and Lucy stumbling in once you were almost done with breakfast and mumbling a “gmornin” to you and the boys. Soon, the discussion turned from an easygoing conversation over breakfast and lapsed into a more serious discussion as Lockwood started explaining the cases that you all had scheduled for that night.

You and Lockwood would be going out to a house that was reported to contain a Type Two and a couple Type Ones, George would be staying home to do some research for a bigger case the four of you had coming up the next week (he had also gotten injured a couple of days ago and his wound hadn't fully healed), and Lucy would be going to an office afflicted by a couple Type Ones.

Lockwood had been too busy dishing out the information for the night's events to realize that you hadn't been talking. It was only after Lucy and George had nodded in understanding and set out to set their own respective tasks- Lucy heading down to the basement and George getting ready to go to the Archives- when Lockwood looked to you and realized that you had been drawing on the Thinking Cloth the entire time.

He leaned over slightly, watching as you drew a small landscape on a tiny piece of empty space with a green pen that Lockwood wasn't sure he had ever seen before. He smiled as you drew, watching the concentration on your face. “Did you hear the cases for tonight?” He asked softly, watching the quirk at the corner of your lips.

“George is doing research, Lucy's got a couple of Type Ones, and you and me have got the Type Two.” You clicked your pen, signaling that you were finished with your drawing, and then you turned to look at Lockwood. “How'd I do?” You asked softly. “With the cases, or the drawing?” You shrugged, a look in your eyes that told him “both.” He smiled. “Excellent.” He whispered, making you smile.

Eventually, the two of you migrated from the kitchen to the library. Lockwood sat in his favorite armchair, surveying a stack of recent magazines as he decided which one to read first. You left the room quickly, and Lockwood frowned at your departure as he settled into the chair with a week old gossip rag.

But as quickly as you left, you had returned, a book in your hand as you sat down in the chair next to Lockwood. You two sat there for a while, Lockwood taking breaks to explain to you different London Society news while you happily listened and Lockwood smiling to himself every time you reached a point in your book that made you laugh or make some sort of exclamation of disbelief.

He was content, he realized, to just sit there and exist by your side. While he normally felt the need to make his presence known, to charm and impress anyone he might’ve just met, he found that he was very happy to just sit and read with you.

An hour or so later, Lockwood decided that he wanted to go down to the basement and get some training in before the case that night. He was about to ask you if you'd care to join before he noticed that you had fallen asleep, arms curled around your legs and head laying peacefully against the cushioning of the chair. He smiled as he closed his magazine, getting up slowly and draping a blanket over you without a sound.

As Lockwood walked out of the library, he realized that George had been right. Not about you not fitting in- no, you had definitely proven George wrong. Instead, he was forced to admit that George might've been right about Lockwood being gone for you.

hehehe thanks for reading!!! I just put in my 2 weeks at my soul sucking part time job so I'll hopefully have more motivation to work on these hehe!!! I'll also be making a masterlist very soon- I've been meaning to do that for a while

also if yall want a part 2, pls lmk! I loved writing this and I think I could do a lot more w it hehehehe. anywhom if you've read this far, thank you for reading!!! love u!

mwah, linnie

[jungkwok]

saturday | movie night | jjk fluff

masterlist | SEVEN

monday | tuesday | wednesday | thursday | friday | saturday | sunday

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pairing: jungkook x y/n tags: husband!jungkook x wife!reader, domestic, fluff &lt;;3 word count: 566 words

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“Nothing seems good, I’m not really in the mood for…’ you squint at the TV glaring back at you, “My Mafia half-Werewolf half-Vampire CEO is secretly in love with me?”

“Jesus, even hearing the title makes me shiver.” Jungkook replies, holding a bucket of warm popcorn as he snuggles next to you. “Okay, what about one of those Disney movies you keep gushing about? Like Tangled.”

“Really?” Your eyes light up, surprised that your usually stoic, romance-hating Jungkook would actually bend to your will. “Babe, the only reason why I don’t, well didn’t, like romance movies was because I would just get jealous of the couple on-screen. But now…” Jungkook whispers, leaning closer to your ear as he swings his arm around you, “I’ve got you, don’t I? And we can do whatever the couple does on screen, just better.”

All those days watching from the windows;

All those years outside looking in.

All that time never even knowing

Just how blind I've been…

As Rapunzel and Eugene share a hauntingly beautiful duet, all you can do is look at your husband. As you admire the soft curves of his jaw, and how perfectly his dark curls framed his angelic face, you barely notice that he too, was staring at the love of his life.

“What?” You mumble softly, completely mesmerised by how even the dreamy lights from the TV seemed to put him in the spotlight. “Nothing, princess.” He replies, wearing his signature smile. But this wasn’t the smile that he used in front of flashing lights or cameras– this was the smile of a man, entirely in love with the woman sitting in front of him.

Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight.

Now I'm here, suddenly I see;

Standing here, it's all so clear

I'm where I'm meant to be…

“I guess romance movies aren’t that bad after all.” Jungkook says, turning his attention back to the TV. “Now, why would the stubborn, all-mighty, Jeon Jungkook say that?” You smirk, slightly pleased that for once in your life, you’ve changed your husband’s mind about something.

“Well, they’ve made me realise that you’re the only one for me.” He chuckles, then continues: “Because I can never imagine doing stuff like this,” he gestures to the scene, “with anyone else but you.”

And at last I see the light,

And it's like the fog has lifted…

Your face flushes, thinking just how much redder your face would be if your husband was serenading you on a boat, surrounded by lanterns.

“Guess you really are a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?” Jungkook comments, as if he can read your mind and feel your embarrassment.

“Well,” he says, pulling you even closer to him. “We might have to try this someday”, he whispers, planting the softest of kisses on your temple.

And at last I see the light

And it's like the sky is new

And it's warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted…

The duet continues, and for the first time in Jungkook’s life, he wasn’t jealous of the pair in front of him– for his own princess was right next to him, safe and sound in his arms.

All at once everything looks different…

“I love you, my Jungkook.” You say, leaning onto his shoulder, perfectly carved to hold your head.

Now that I see you.

“I love you too, my darling.”

[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

[fillinforlater]

WICKED LOVER

Female Reader x Choi Yena

Length: 2791 words

Tags: intense dancing, very hot choreography, wicked love, lesbian sex, rough sex, finger fucking, clit stimulation, face sitting, abs worship, marking, scratches, a bit of shaming, mentions of toxic relationships, freaky kinks, wicked_lover!Yena / dancer!You

TW: mentions of blood by scratches + toxic relationships; I guess shaming

Inspiration: "WICKED LOVE" by Yena, especially the Dance Practice (I have watched it like 30 times for this fic, fuuuuuuck)

(A/N: female reader bfh that came out of nowhere. Yena had no business being this freaky for her pre-release. (BTW: the title of her actual title track is also quite inspiring...))

“You are going to do the part during the bridge with me.”

Rumor has it that Yena had a break-up before writing this song. Although it has not leaked out into the general public, the message of the song should even get the most delusional or densest fans thinking. However, inside the company building, everyone knows that there's more to the story. 

Yena’s relationship was wild, toxic and violent. She and her lover grew from being extremely close and intimate, something the company struggled to hide, to avoiding each other because of the drama that would unfold if they locked eyes. Somehow, they still found ways to make up, but after a few months nothing could salvage this relationship anymore.

As a dancer who regularly works for the same label as Yena, you remember passing Yena’s studio and hearing the vile insults they would throw at each other, audible even through the thick walls. An hour later you’d pass the same door and hear her  moans and screams of pleasure. You never dared to peek inside; it would have fueled your envy.

“S-sure,” you answer the imposing idol standing in the midst of the dance practice room, surrounded by dancers just like you who had hoped to be assigned the same part. “I’ll give it my all.”

“Stay after the main practice,” Yena adds in the same stern, professional tone. “I might want to change it up a bit.”

You lock eyes with her through the mirror and nod. The perfect length for eye contact is supposed to be 3.3 seconds, but why is it that Yena makes you weak in less than half of that? If you’d really focused on her for 3.3 seconds, you’d lose your footing and would have to admit that there was more than adoration for her success and (not anymore) adorable visuals. 

Through all the curses you’ve heard her scream when there are no cameras, through the rumors of her leaving scratches all over her former lover's face, through the thought of her maybe being the more toxic partner, you’ve continuously grown more obsessed with Yena. You are not better than all those delusional fans out there.

Well, you might not be better, but you are a lot closer now. The rest of the dancers have left the room. The track is still in loop, so you and Yena continue to dance as if it was a normal practice up until the bridge. Luckily, dancing always pulls you into a powerful trance in which you can escape the hold Yena has on your fragile heart. Even when the two of you are close to each other, even when her hands are on your body, hell, even when she tears off your top, the music keeps you going. 

However, it’s a lot different now. 

During the first part of the choreo, Yena positions herself and you do a couple of quick movements around her. Then the two of you start facing each other, showing off something like an intimate fight before smoothly switching to the finale where Yena circles your body with her arms three times—untils she rips the black top apart. 

The moment you start to face Yena, you can see or rather feel how the choreo has changed. Yena is a lot closer, she is literally pressing her chest into yours and moves her knee up to reach your core in between your legs. Doing the hand motions becomes difficult, especially Yena continues to have this dull, bored expression on her face, like it’s just practice. 

Yena’s cheek really touches the palm of your hand and you almost forget to continue, your spin out of her imminent reach is amateur-like. You almost stumble when Yena gets on one knee, grabs your lower leg, quickly brushes up your body to grab your waist and then, with perfect timing, destroys your top with a single pull. 

The tatters fall from your chest, shoulders, arms. Your breath is heavy and your face is red—not due to dancing anymore. Without a care in the world, Yena hurries towards her phone and stops the music. 

“What do you think?” Yena asks, her hands on her hips, her breaths deep, her eyes a bit softer. “Are these changes good?”

You’re frozen in the final pose. The white crop-top with its spaghetti strings suddenly feels too revealing, so you hide yourself with both your arms, unable to truly understand what just occurred.

“Uhm, I-I think it’s good. It adds to the, uhm, intensity of the br-bridge?” you ask, hair and words in a mess, then your heartbeat as well when Yena approaches you again, the track already booming once more.

“I think so as well,” she whispers. “Let’s try it again.”

The two of you get in position. When your muscle memory kicks in, you remember that she just shredded the top and now you’re more exposed and vulnerable to her than ever before. But it’s too late to change it now, the bridge has already started. 

This time, Yena is even bolder. Her face seems to go in for a kiss during the second part before she pushes you away and then pulls you back in with her aura, her scent for the finale, which is now way too intimate. From your leg, her hand intentionally rubs over your folds, then grabs the hem of your baggy pants to slightly tug them down and the moment you shoot your hand up to leave your backside wide open, Yena—

“Ah, fuck!”

You scream out in pain. Yena’s painted nails pierce into your skin and mercilessly dig through it up to your neck. You throw your head back as you feel tiny veins burst and droplets of blood leak out of the fresh wounds. Sink into Yena whose arms have not yet left your nape.

“What about this?” she asks with a lewd smirk. “I think it brings out all the intimate anger from the lyrics.”

You nod, eyes narrowed in pain. Yena looks at the mirror and eyes your back. She immediately removes her hands and gasps. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t want it to be, like—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you hiss and look into her eyes, level with yours, an inch away from yours, she looks so into it, so needy—

That is more than 3.3 seconds. Your legs melt like butter, your chin falls to Yena’s chest. She not only looks bigger than you, her soft pillows are more voluptuous and the tight crop-top is perfect for showing it off. 

“We should…” Yena hums, her voice deeper than ever, her hands deep in your hair at this point.

“W-we should fu—” you try to finish the sentence, but she is too fast.

“We should go for a final attempt. There is something I still want to change.”

The looped track is at the second chorus. You need to push all love and lewd thoughts and tension and pent up stress and the feeling of Yena’s boobs out of your mind. The tug she gave your pants shows a string of your thong, your hair is disheveled, your eyes spin, your muscles try to follow the rhythm but there is no need to follow it. The bridge has already started.

Yena is off beat, grazing your jaw with her lips before spinning you around with her own two hands. Those same hands grab your leg, feel everything up to your inner thigh and even pull at the string of your thong. You’re about to explode, but Yena isn’t done yet. Her sweaty palms rub over your sweatier sides, grab both your top and bra and pull them over your skyward arms. 

Your heart skips a trillion and one beats when you see through your messy hair that Yena has her eyes closed and lips sucking your lower lip, fingers on your breasts, cupping, poking. You fall backwards, the mirror catching you after a couple of steps. Its cold surface meets your scars, you groan at the ease in pain, the increasing pain, whatever it is, you don’t care.

“Yena, I—”

“No words, nothing.”

Yena pulls down your pants, fiddles with the string of your thong before putting her hand into the front. She sighs a little and you open your eyes to find yourself in the mirror, flushed in red with excitement, confusion and arousal. 

“From now on you will shave,” she commands, lips inching towards your ear. She adds, her voice in a husky whisper: “And you will only wear the thongs I give you. I think my pretty girl understands.”

“Y-yes, Yena,” you moan as she rubs your labia.

“Good. 

“Now, let’s get into the storage room.”

Yena starts to circle your entrance while guiding you towards the storage room's door. You were always confused why it was lockable from the inside. Now it makes sense. What also makes sense is the big box with pillows, dresses and stage outfits Yena empties onto the floor before pushing you into it. It’s soft, a worthy replacement for a bed.

“Get those off,” Yena groans but her hands are a lot quicker at undressing your pants than yours. “Spread your legs.”

Open shaky knees slowly. Yena is a lot less hesitant, her fingers pushing away your thong and going straight into your pussy. When she curls them upwards, your feet shoot upwards as well. When she thrusts them in and out, you move the same way to engulf them. When she starts to moan—well, you’re already moaning louder than her.

“Fuck, that’s just two fingers,” Yena groans her complain out loudly, not louder than your moans, but she makes sure you learn that she is in control of your neediness. “What if I actually make you cum with just these two, huh?”

“Ye-Yena, I—”

“No words.”

Yena puts the palm of her hand on your mouth, sealing it shut. The only way to get air is to breathe through your nose, the only way to voice your pleasure is by frantically swinging your legs through the air. However, Yena seems to be amused by your struggle to breathe coherently or release your tension. Feverishly, she starts to pump her fingers in and out of your cunt, while her thumb pokes your clit again and again. 

“Are you really going to cum just like that?” Yena huffs and rolls her eyes. “God, I haven’t even undressed and you’re already this weak. I bet the fucking filthiest of my fans would do better than you.”

There is this ounce of pride in you that wants to fight back and argue that you are definitely not on the same level as those creeps lewding her, but in all honesty, you also don’t. Yena is so right, you are wet for her, your soft walls milking her two fingers like you need to do it for your survival. Your hands are free to do everything, you could push her arm away or put yourself upright, but they flop around uselessly, like weak straws. 

“Now—”

Yena removes her hand from your whimpering mouth and puts it on the hem of her crop top.

“—I want you to cum, perfect little girl.”

With a single pull, she gets the tight piece of clothes over her surprisingly big, bra-covered breasts and you get to see something all her fans can only dream off. Too bad you are just too weak, her upwards-downwards curling fingers stretching your cunt and her left-right flicking thumb have you on the edge and with a final, painfully hard push, you start to cum all over her arm.

“Oh, so hot,” Yena groans as your juices run over her skin. “It’s so sticky—did I tell you that you smell fucking lewd? Just from your sweat while dancing, I knew you’d smell perfect down here as well.”

Yena blows on your sore pussy when she pulls out her soaked fingers. The final spurts of your arousal leak onto the stage outfits below, but Yena does not give a fuck. Rather, she continues faster than your orgasm-shaken brain can react. Her face hovers above yours, it looks like she is about to take you missionary—if only she could.

“The next time, when you are shaven,” Yena whispers, cum-covered hand creeping over your chest to your chin. “I’ll fuck just like this. I’ll make you cry with nothing but my pussy. I bet you’re yearning for it already.”

You nod mindlessly before sucking yourself from her fingers. Yena is right, everything about you is lewd, so you might as well make a lewd expression while cleaning each of her fingers individually, then lapping off the rest from her palm. Her expression changes from a fascinated smirk to something a lot more sinister. Suddenly, she pulls your hair while trying to get out of her own pants.

“I know you want it, but I’m not going to give it to you. I’m just going to use your slutty little face to fuck myself and you’re going to be a good, perfect little girl. You will do the fucking things I say.”

“Y-yes, Yena.”

Wordlessly, Yena stands up and finally rids herself of all her garments. When her panties fall, you immediately want her crotch to be closer, but it comes a bit too close. Though the light is dim in the storage room, Yena makes sure that you can see her shaven pussy, her folds, her ass upclose when she starts to sit on your face. 

“Stick your fucking tongue out!”

Yena starts to moan loud and deep and louder and deeper when she rubs her labia on your nose and her clit on your tongue. She is incredibly wet, dripping on your face and making you more than a sweaty mess. All your eyes see is her subtle ass ripple as Yena goes faster, her clit chasing for more stimulation from your mouth.

A sudden sting on your sides fills you with pain. It feels like you are bleeding again, but this time Yena's nails feel intentionally torturous. Right above your hip bones she is leaving scratches, as if she is a tiger attacking and slashing you. You try to show your pain by grabbing her thighs, but she immediately swats you away.

“No! Only I mark you! Fuck, your abs make me so fucking jealous. Be a good little girl and move your stupid tongue.”

Yena suffocates you with her sweaty, pink cunt while her glossy lips begin to kiss all over your midriff. Enticed by her worship of your abs, you start to worship her lower lips with everything you have. Lick it, nibble on it, suck on it, blow on it, just to make her thighs shudder at the sides of your head. Then it’s Yena’s turn to slobber all over your abs, leave painful hickeys and even more painful scars when you strike at her most sensitive nub.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’ll fuck your face forever, don’t stop, fuck!”

She likes that word so much—just like she likes thrusting her hips down, smacking her juices all over your features until her unannounced yet definitely noticeable orgasm that leaves you with a blurry vision of her trembling crotch. Yena’s smell and cum fill your nostrils as you try to take deep breaths, a grave mistake which leads to you falling into a coughing fit. Not a good final impression, but the idol does not seem to mind. With unsteady feet she gets off of your face just to sink to her knees beside you as the orgasm still rattles her mind.

Half a minute later, your coughing fit finally subsiding, Yena’s hands do not subside—like claws they cling to your abs and hips, making you hiss when she goes over the fresh wounds. She looks at you, brushes the wild strands of pink hair behind her ear and does what you assume is an apologetic gesture: Eyes still locked with yours, her lips gently kiss where faint droplets of blood come from and you throw your head back at—again—pain and pleasure. 

“I can’t get enough of this,” Yena hums and you continue to groan.

“I-it hurts, Yena.”

“I like marking my girls.”

Suddenly, her hand creeps in between your legs and you lock it right there with your thighs. Shit, you’re sensitive, needy for another round of her fingers getting you off. Yena however only brushes the bush of your unshaven pubic hair. Once more, she sighs, but this time it’s a lot less demanding; maybe she sounds hopeful?

“If you want another round,” she whispers. “Shave yourself ‘till tomorrow.

“Understood, my perfect little girl~?”

[pluto-sims]

Growing Together Overalls Shirt Overlay

phew, now THAT is a long cc title lmao. anyway this is honestly so basic asdfghhgfd but. well, we all know that i love lots of colour options, especially for younger sims, and although this overall is SUPER cute, I wanted different, more colourful shirt choices! so i've made a little overlay accessory with tonnes of swatches for maximum customisation. i am probably the only person who wanted this lmao but here it is in case anyone wants it too!

there's also an optional BGC version of the actual overalls, just in case you don't have the pack.

details, swatch previews and downloads below!

@maxismatchccworld @emilyccfinds @mmfinds @maxismatch @mmoutfitters

Details

Overlay to change the colour of the overalls shirt, found in the accessories category

32 Swatches from @twikkii's Sol and @teekalu's Bee's Knees palettes (my all time favourite palettes hehehe tysm for being legends)

Custom thumbnail, tagged for both frames and fashion choices

Optional base game compatible overalls package. If you already have the Growing Together EP, you don't need this as it only has the same swatches as the original.

Swatch Preview

And I think that's it? It's been play tested and I can't find any issues myself, but if you find any, please let me know! Otherwise, I hope some of you might find this useful lmao, I just like having colour options because i'm greedy >:)

Download: Curseforge / Patreon (both 100% free to everyone, always)