#okay but the context behind this clip

[skitskatdacat63]

I'm so salty there's no direct footage of this moment, but omg the clip is still making me 😵‍💫

[cheriladycl01]

ANGST ( friendship ended, ego battles, Championship, Ferrari, Red Bull, Dutchman, American Girl, unrequired love, Title battle)

Y/N and Max have been friends since their go-karting days. She was a driver for Alpha Tauri and achieved spectacular results with the team and was hoping to take the second seat at Red Bull, but as other drivers are ahead of her to take that spot, she accepts a million-dollar proposal from Ferrari. Max is bewildered by her decision and breaks up a years-long friendship for a trivial reason, as she is thinking about the good part of her career and at Ferrari she has a chance to fight for titles. She is devastated by Max's reaction and his contempt for her, the Dutchman starts to pretend that the American doesn't exist and ignores her both in the paddock and in Monaco, where they live. Fans, fellow riders and the media are devastated how such a lasting friendship ended in such a heavy climate, the American media blasts Max, while the Dutch media trashes Y/N. Y/N and Max enter into a brutal and fierce dispute for the 2024 championship, more tense than 2021, due to the entire context that involves the two. Max felt betrayed by her leaving Red Bull and by her never realizing that he always liked her, but now she's the one who doesn't want anything to do with him in her life anymore and she's going to do whatever it takes to be world champion. They arrive in Abu Dhabi tied and in the wheel-to-wheel dispute, Y/N becomes world champion, and Max realizes that he made a mistake with the love of his life and is humbled by her forgiveness.

This is the story of us! - Max Verstappen x FerrariDriver! Reader

Plot: In the style of a documentary find out what really happened in the year of 2024 between Max Verstappen and Y/N Y/L/N.

“Audio test in the studio please Y/N” the Documenter asks from behind cameras.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1” you say your face on camera as some continues to fix your hair.

A News Broadcaster pops up from 2023 on Sky Sports News.

“Today the shocking news has come that rather than signing with Red Bull Y/N Y/LN has made a million dollar move to Ferrari”

“Y/L/N to drive in Red for the 2024 season”

“Red Bull decision to not sign Y/L/N leaves them out no options says Adrian Newey”

News articles play in overlay over each other as they get more frequent about your career change 2 years ago.

“Hiya Y/N” the interviewer for the documentary asks.

“Hello” you smile back politely on the footage.

“So this documentary is about the Formula One season of 2024 and … your intense battle for the championship”

“Mmmmm all very interesting no?” You joke before serious music comes on. Showing some shots of you racing, and some of the radios that came from that season.

“This isn’t right! Why isn’t my team working together” your voice come through.

“Y/N it’s time to back off. You can’t win this one”

“I’m never going to give up, it’s me or him in this dust and I don’t care which as this point as long as I know I pushed”

“Y/N are you okay? Y/N?”

“What the fuck was that?”

“Guys this is my last chance let’s put it all in”

“FUCK THIS GUY MAN”

“Yes it was … a heated season for sure” you chuckle.

“So start by telling us about your early life” she asks after a small compilation of early photos of you karting before it’s edited to flick back and forth between your interview and clips of you karting and in the feeder series.

“I started karting from a very young age, around 6 and worked my way up like any other driver. Eventually Red Bull … saw potential in me and decided to sponsor me and make me a part of their Young Drivers Programme. That eventually fed me into a seat in AlphaTauri or what is now Visa CashApp RB” you start, hands clenched together.

“I saw everyone else get a chance at that Red Bull seat before me regardless of my performance. And when they signed Sergio Perez, someone from a different team, that tipped me over the edge” you admit, knowing that it was one of the hardest heartbreaks you experienced.

“And that’s when Ferrari came in?” The interviewer asks.

“That’s when Ferrari came in, they wanted something fresh and new and I’d pretty much grown up with Charles just like I had Max, so there was no concern about us being Team-Mates. It was … despite Ferraris struggles in recent years, my only way forward” you nod your head, before the documentary shows your driving in your AlphaTauri and your incredible win in that car, that should have been the reason Horner wanted to sign you.

“Max … wasn’t happy with this decision” she asks and you nod.

“He wasn’t … i thought if anything was to ruin our friendship it would be an external relationship that didn’t appreciate our bond. Not … because of a job” you laugh thinking of his reaction and how he’d cut you off in all aspects of life.

That year was difficult for you, even though you’d had more people around you than you’d ever had in your life you had never felt more lonely.

Max had pretty much axed you out of his life. He’d blocked you on every social media, every messaging platform and even put your emails into his junk folder. You thought it was a step too far writing to him so, you left it.

You left an eleven year friendship to just go down the drain. You didn’t realise until he was actually gone how much of an impact Max Verstappen had on you and your life. He was there for you for every major thing that happened in your life and this move to Ferrari felt like your next step. But he had no longer wished to be a part of that.

“What did it feel like when you announced going to Ferrari?” Your asked and your paused for a while before you face the interviewer.

“I think everybody dreams of driving for Ferrari, no matter what team your currently with as … it’s the pinnacle of motorsport. But to be the first female to drive for Ferrari is a statement. The day I made the announcement and it went onto the F1 page that my contract was up with RedBull and AlphaTauri for the 2023 season I couldn’t have been happier because it felt like I was finally moving forward and not stuck in the same spot” you answer and she nods.

“And how did that affect your friendships?” She asks and you almost scoff.

“Why didn’t you just say Max” you chuckle before sighing. You never mind talking about it especially now, of course you were upset and heated back then. You normally tending to be after racing if it didn’t go your way anyway, but when it came to Max leaving you there were times you were pretty nonchalant about it because you didn’t know how to react.

It was the later reaction that was more frightening.

“Well, that would spoil that kind of answer, clearly there’s more of an issue here than with any other driver” she asks.

“You’ve done your research, you know exactly what happened”

Media floods in the documentary American News anchors sending hate to Max Verstappen especially when he came to home turf for a race and the Deutch fans butchering you in the Netherlands.

SkySports -

“Max Verstappen is brutal, can’t imagine ever being as petty as he is”

ESPN News -

“And today we have news that Red Bull Driver Max Verstappen has cut all ties with new Ferrari Driver Y/N Y/L/N, for her change of team”

Fan at the Track -

“You know Max is incredibly overrated and childish for what he did to our American pride and joy”

News in the Netherlands

“ze is gewoon een vreselijke chauffeur”

Fan at Zandvoort

“neuk haar”

It pans back to you looking down at your hands before the interviewer speaks up again.

“So before the season started did you and Max have any heated arguments that contributed to the start of the season?” She asks and you shake your head.

“He blocked me on everything, I was with my ex-boyfriend at that point and we were travelling during the winter break so it didn’t bother me too much. I tried to keep myself distracted knowing I had great support around me, a new team to get to know and work with.

But as the 2024 started to get closer and you came back home to Monaco, sensing Max had disappeared from your life finally sunk in. You had many days at home wrapped up in blankets crying, wondering where it all went wrong.

Making you feel lonely in Monaco was one thing, but it only got worse in the paddock when racing resumed for the testy 2024 season.

A video plays of the Bahrain testing in 2024 you on track in a semi fast Ferrari that people cannot tell whether you are sandbagging or not Max breezing past you.

Strangely that was the closest you’d been to Max in months.

“Monaco was different now that you didn’t have your best friend … how did you occupy your time instead?” She asked.

It showed videos of you partying in Monaco with Charles your soon to be team-mate, Lando Norris and Daniel Ricciardo.

Then it flicked to you and Lando golfing with Max Fewtrell, while vacationing.

It flicked to a very public argument between you and your boyfriend which proceeded to your breakup.

“Well, it was an interesting build up to the season. Let’s just say that” you smirk knowing at the start of 2024 before preseason testing you caused a lot of chaos all to try get your mind off the absence of Max.

“Then we find ourselves at Bahrain 2024… a race I think that will be in the history books as one of the most tense season openings ever” she admits writing something down on the notepad she had that she really didn’t need.

“Yes, it was an interesting race. I think that was the first time I was in equal machinery to Max, at the start of the season we didn’t start off as good as RedBull but Charles and I were giving him a run for his money” you admit knowing Sergio Perez didn’t have the greatest start to the season and now that you were locked into Ferrari, Red Bull were beating themselves up over the loss of you.

“So Max took pole and you were only 0.003 seconds behind him, what a margin! You started P2 both front row” she smiles and you nod.

“Yeah I think that’s the most scared I’ve ever felt in a race car, P2 has been my best qualifying position and I couldn’t let it go to waste. But having Max next to me with everything that was going on was a massive headache” you tell her and there’s a clip of you looking over at Max sat next to you just before the formation lap was about to begin.

“Let’s talk about turn 1 Bahrain …” she asks and you nod.

“I mean, I was racing and I was racing hard. I gave Max plenty of room, I had the inside line and I got past him and led. It was a good overtake and the team didn’t exactly tell me not to go for it” you explain and she nods.

“But after your pit stop stuff got real” she adds and you nod with a roll of your eyes.

“Tell me about it” you laugh.

“AND VERSTAPPEN GOES FOR THE OVERTAKE GOING INTO TURN 5, Y/N DEFENDING BEAUTIFULLY AND HE GOES AGAIN EDGING HER INTO TURN SIX AND OMG HES OFF INTO THE GRAVEL! MAX VERSTAPPEN IS OUT IF THE BAHRAIN GP” it shows the commentary from Crofty when this was all happening showing Max getting out the car and slamming his helmet down.

“WHAT THIS Y/N HAS DAMAGE THERE WAS IN FACT CONTACT AND SHES HAD TO PULL OVER NOT MAKING IT BACK TO THE PITS FOR A NEW TYRE” is shown also you getting out of the car, your escorted back to the pit wall while Safety Car is deployed.

“Yours and Max’s argument that day while the race was still underway and Charles was leading, was intense who actually started it?” She asks.

“Oh Max did 100%. I was just talking to my race engineer and he came over all pissy and yelling in my face. Seeing him so red and angry was funny though” you admit.

“I think that’s the first time people had seen seriously Mad Max since the Ocon incident”

“I guess I just bring that side out of him” you admit with a nod.

“What the fuck was that” Max came over to you, you took a step back hoping to defuse the situation knowing their was cameras around and you didn’t really want to bring attention to either of you.

“Look Max we were both racing hard. It happens, you went into me, we both ended up out the race … it happens” you explain and the camera men all get closer.

“You went into me! Are you having a laugh!” He says until he starts ranting in Dutch and his PR manager and a Marshall take him away from you.

“Bahrain was incredibly dramatic for a race. The champion of last year was sat at the bottom of the leader board and Charles, Lando and George were looking at the top spots. How did the make you feel?” She asks and you nod.

“Obviously it’s concerning. Coming back isn’t easy after a feat like that, so we knew we’d have to come back in Saudi and make it better than it was. It’s also hard to come back from something like that mentally? Yano. So Saudi was hard especially all the media around me” you explains and it cuts to clips of all kinds of media swarming around you asking you stuff about Max and your race in Bahrain.

“In Saudi you and Max raced hard but eventually it ended up with Max in P1 and you in P2 and Lando P3… that podium was tense” she explains and a video of the podium came up, showing Max celebrating with everyone but you. You ending up leaving him and Lando and leant over the fence of the podium to spray your team down below.

“Lando and Max are close, but you and Lando are aswell so how did it feel having no celebration up there with you?” She asked.

“Lando is actually the sweetest person I’ve ever met. He cares about everybody and everything and he worries when he thinks he’s upset someone. He messaged me after that podium, apologising for leaving me out of the celebration and he didn’t even realise he had as he was so caught up in Max spraying him he thought it was both of us. I obviously replied saying I wasn’t upset and that it was okay. I had my team and that’s all I really needed at the end of the day” you nod knowing it WAS a hard podium to be up on but you made the best of a bad situation.

“The comes Australia, and this is your first time to regain the points lost in Bahrain. So what did you do?”

“Man … the first time I won was so nice … that I just had to do it twice” you quote Anthony Joshua with a little laugh. Before it shows you’re victory.

“AND FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HER FORMULA ONE CAREER THE AMERICAN TAKES HOME THE CHEQUERED FLAG TAKING VICTORY IN AUSTRALIA, TEAMMATE CHARLES LECLERC BEHIND HER IN P2 WITH LANDO NORRIS CLOSING UP THE PODIUM” Ted commentates.

“It was an incredible feeling, knowing I was now making my way back up the ranks and was in P3 in the championship, Max was behind me and I felt like I was back in the game. To DNF’s for him was almost laughable.

“The points were very amusing come China, you were leading the championship and Ferrari were at the top for the constructors championship. And Max, Lando and Charles were all on 76 points and you were on 78… how tight!?” She adds.

“Yes, it was crazy how varied this season was with wins, especially with how RedBull were insanely dominant the year before and RedBull took all wins bar Singapore. At this point I wasn’t just fighting Max in he championship there was word at Ferrari that team orders were going to come into play to help Charles win but when we were both so close in points it was easier to just let us race” you explain happily, knowing that it was a fun season to be a part of.

“But after China was a sort of turning point for Max correct?” She asks and you nod again.

“It was for both of us. After China it was a constant change between me and Max of who was going to win, Lando and Charles remained close, but not enough to win.” You explain but her look tells you you didn’t give her the answer she was after.

“I meant about Max trying to rekindle that friendship you both once had” she asks and you scoff.

“Mmmmm you’ll have to ask him about that… at the time I could only assume he wanted to be my friend to distract me from what was important … winning” you answer.

“Hello Max” the interviewer says as their special guest for the documentary comes in. He takes a seat, a stoic nod as he does.

“So, Y/N didn’t seem to be able to tell us what happened after the Chinese Grand Prix, it seems from sources that you unblocked her on everything and attempted contact?” She asks and Max nods.

“I- I did. After seeing her wins, and her face once she realised it was a full fight this year and how excited that made her I knew I was in the wrong for ever letting our bond go. I don’t think she even cared about the championship that year, just being in a team that was letting her drive a good car, with a good team and actually help her improve. I was in the wrong but at this point … she was only focused on racing” he sings and a compilation of videos of the pair of you arguing on track came up.

“It was just affecting you guys either was it?”

“No, it was hard especially for Lando, Daniel and Charles, we’re all so close and Lando and Y/n are like siblings so when it came to the both of us not talking it was difficult for them. Y/N being … well Y/N didn’t want to make it a big deal and started hanging out more with her other friends like Yuki, Logan, Zhou, George and Alex but it still meant it was … awkward to say the least” he admits.

“Yeah, that sounds rough, do you ever regret it?” She asks and he nods.

“For a long long time, I didn’t think that I would be able to reconcile our friendship like Nico and Lewis did” he admits.

“But you think that now?” She asks and he smiles.

“I know so” he smirks

It was the end of the season, you and Max were tied in points so for fans it was like Abu Dhabi 2021 all over again. Max was starting P1 and you were starting P2, you’d overtaken him down the straight having better straight line speed than his car did. You were practically flying round the track, Max chugging along behind you eventually setting the fastest lap, and you just knew the cheer from the crowd would have been phenomenal if you could hear it.

After great strategy from Ferrari you ended up winning that race, along with the Championship. Getting out the car was a feeling like no other, you bend down by the wheel of your car, tears streaming out your eyes and dripping on the still closed visor as your knees give out from a tricky and hot race as you sob.

You run over to the Ferrari team, them all pulling you into hugs along with Charles and his girlfriend who looks so excited to celebrated with you.

“OMG” you cried into Fred’s arms. What surprised you the mot was a tap on your back and a blue race suit. You were silent looking at Max.

“Congratulations” he says and tears are still in your eyes. You just nod at him politely.

“Please Y/N I’m so sorry, I - you deserve the seat and the championship. You’ve done so well this year and I’m so proud of you” he smiles and more tears flood your eyes. All you’d wanted to hear was those words.

“Do you ever think you could forgive me, because I love you Y/N and I cannot loose you” he says tears brimming his own eyes.

“I forgave you a long time ago Max, this was all really stupid” you smile at him. Before your team I pulling you away to get you to the podium.

“After the podium, come meet me at the bay, 3rd yacht along… okay I have to tell you something” he shouts after you and you nod grinning.

“What happened on that boat Max?” The interviewer asks.

“That’s for me to know and no-one to ever find out …” he smirks before laughing and giving you as kiss on the cheek as you come back into the room.

“Y/N?”

“Mmmmm I’m with Max, but let’s just say … we rekindled” you laugh and the cameras cut out the documentary ended.

“So you guys are obviously together … what changed?” She asks off camera curiosity getting the best of her.

“We worked out that we had feeling for each other for a very very long time before the fight!” You answer and well, that was that.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader

TBOSAS Vogue Interviews — Rachel + Tom

(next part will be you and Josh’s interview)

no descriptors other than reader being shorter than tom but i use she / her. click [HERE] for the table of contents for all things tom x actress!reader

for the interviews, rachel and tom are still paired up since they’re the leads, and you’re with josh. sorry hunter hshxhsdi. also in this tbosas has been out for a month so the cast is allowed to talk specific scenes and give “spoilers”

The first bit of the video shows short clips of some answers, but no context as to what the questions are.

“Oh that’s an easy one, my girlfriend,” Tom can’t help but smile.

Rachel playfully slaps him with the card. “I was going to say her!”

~

“Pepper jack,” Rachel shrugs.

“Maybe… maybe a sharp cheddar?” Tom laughs.

~

Tom sighs, “that was quite a hard scene to film. After each take I’d ask if she was alright at least a couple of times.”

“Honestly the games as a whole, because I missed a lot of the stunt training.”

~

THE INTERVIEW —

“Hi Vogue, I’m Rachel Zegler.”

“And I’m Tom Blyth. Today we’re here to ask each other some questions, rapid fire.”

Rachel shuffles the interview cards around. “Okay first question, what would you say was the most difficult scene to film and why? Ooh I have my answer already.”

“You go first, I’m still thinking,” Tom laughs.

“Well for me, the most difficult scenes physically were honestly… the games as a whole. I missed a lot of the stunt training so to have one of my first scenes be me running like crazy screaming for Jessup, it was pretty intense.”

Tom blushes a little. “Sort of piggy backing off of Rachel’s answer, the hardest physically I’d definitely say my scene with Josh when we’re running out of the arena. The first few takes were stopped fairly quickly because either he or I would trip. But the most difficult emotionally, the scene in the cabin with Coriolanus and Nova May.”

“Aww,” Rachel puts her hand over her heart. “That’s was so cool to watch you both but yeah I can for sure see why it would be difficult. Did you guys rehearse it a lot?”

Tom shakes his head. “Not at all actually. We ran through the lines a few times but as far as acting out the whole scene, not until we were on set and they wanted a run through. And thankfully after the third take they were satisfied. That was quite a hard scene to film. After each take I’d ask if she was alright at least a couple of times.”

Off camera, someone asks “how long have you guys been together?”

“Pretty much since we met,” Tom tries, and fails to hide his smile. “So she and Josh were actually cast on the same day in June of 2022. At that point Rachel and I had already been cast, and the 4 of us, it just so happened that we were all in London for one thing or another and we all went out to dinner that night. Knew I fancied her right away, and I wanna say it wasn’t even a couple of weeks later that I asked her to be my girlfriend. Sorry I know I went off topic. To answer your actual question, almost a year and a half.”

Tom and Rachel chat for a couple of minutes as cameras are moved around to capture different angles.

“Next question, something a lot more lighthearted. If you were a cheese, what—”

“Pepper jack,” Rachel shrugs, not elaborating.

Tom bursts out laughing. “You had that answer ready awfully quick.”

“What can I say, I’m a cheese girly.”

“I guess that’s my go. Pepper jack is a good answer by the way. I’ll go cheddar. Maybe… maybe a sharp cheddar?”

Rachel taps her chin as if considering what Tom just said. “Yeah, I could see sharp cheddar. Okay guys sorry they’re motioning behind cameras that we have to speed it up. This is rapid fire and we’ve only answered two questions, sorry!”

“Sorry guys! Okay okay next question. Who is your favorite person to run lines with? Oh that’s an easy one, my girlfriend.”

“I was gonna say her!” Rachel faces the camera. “You guys, she’s seriously the best person for that. She memorizes lines sooo fast. By the end she won’t need a script to help you and she’ll be able to still correct you if you mess up!”

“What — oh wait I’ve already asked that question,” Tom flips through the cards, “okay here we go. If you could play any other character in the film, who would you play?”

Rachel claps and points at Tom. “We were just talking about this! I’d either want to play your character because I think it would be so fun to kind of switch to the villain. Or Nova May because hello she’s a badass.”

“Do you know what, and I swear I’m not making this up, my answers are the same as yours. either Nova May because I feel like she’s the opposite of Coriolanus in a way. Or Lucy Gray because I love that even after the games, she’s stayed true to who she is and she doesn’t let Coriolanus corrupt her.”

Rachel and Tom chat again as cameras and lights are moved around. They each do 2 questions.

“Okay we’ve each got one more question. Ooh this one’s fun! You’re stuck on a deserted island for a month and can have five things with you, what do you bring? And it says people don’t count,” Rachel thinks for a moment, “you go first because I need to give this some real thought.”

“No people, okay let’s see… my phone, one of those solar power generators so I could plug things in, phone charger, a book, and mini fridge. I’m sure I could cook some things up and be able to save them for later.”

Rachel nods in approval. “I am going to copy your first three things because I think I’d go crazy not being able to at least write out my thoughts in my notes app or something, or record what’s happening on my camera. But for my last two things, a guitar now that I can play, and… oh crap this is harder than I thought. And… a surfboard! If you’re stuck on an island that’s the perfect time to pick up a new hobby.”

“I think we’re finally getting the hang of this, of course right at the end. Oh I have the last question that’s right. Let’s see… what three characters from other shows or films do you think would do well in the Hunger Games?”

“I love that question!” Rachel nearly falls out of her chair. “Definitely someone from Game of Thrones — ooh or House of the Dragon! You know what, Juliette would do really good. A bow and arrow can take you really far in the games and that’s her go-to weapon.”

Tom smiles and blushes once again at the mention of his girlfriend, or at least the character she plays.

Rachel thinks about her last two answers. “Joel Miller from The Last of Us, and Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds.”

“Why Spencer?”

“He’s a literal genius. I bet he’d be able to rig a bunch of traps that no one would suspect and he’d be able to eliminate most of the other tributes without any physical contact.”

“Ahh I didn’t think of that. Hmm also from House of the Dragon, Aemond Targaryen. He’s quite ruthless isn’t he, he’d have no problem getting rid of the other tributes. And also Clint Barton, like you said because a bow and arrow is a really good weapon to have. Also… Uhtred Ragnarsson from The Last Kingdom.”

Someone behind the camera says it’s time to wrap it up.

Tom smiles at the camera, “thank you so much for having us.”

“We hope you enjoyed watching, bye!”

TOM BLYTH x ACTRESS!READER TAGLIST —

@callsignwidow | @spencerstits | @coconut-dreamz | @daenerysqueenofhearts

[no-nameno-face]

Taken Care Of Audio (read story first)

TAKEN CARE OF (WITH AUDIO)

Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams

Summary: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Ellies had a long, hard day on patrol, and after stitching her up she requests some TLC. 

Warnings: Smut heavy, sub!reader, dom!ellie, face riding (E!receiving), oral (E!receiving), masturbation (R!), cum eating (kinda)? Praise kink, minor blood kink, pain kink, stitches, boob play (E!receiving), first time smut writing, did not proof read (but probably should have...)

Author's Notes: Soooo I've never written smut before, lmfao. I made the audio first, for my thirsty Ellie girls on tiktok but this audio got a bit… out of hand (wayyy too graphic) so I didn't want to post it on there. I had a whole scenario in mind with the audio so I figured I might as well write it down and share it here. I am also very obsessed with Ellie receiving so I subconsciously brought that to life while editing the audio. I know it's not great, but it was very fun to make and write soo.. Please be nice to me, I'm sensitive. Lol. (I put in the story when the audio clip applies, the story starts with context) I’d like to improve my writing cause this was a good time so any advice would be appreciated!!

I hear the door downstairs creak open and shut, a bit louder than normal. I can track the footsteps marching to the stairs and I listen with a small smile as the thuds make their way up. I hear soft profanities getting closer. Ellie is home. 

Sitting on our bed I turn my head right in time to see the door open, grinning at her as she walks in. She has that crease in her brow that I recognize as her tell-tell sign that she had a shit day. She shoots me a sly glance before looking away to take her flannel off leaving her in a white tank, dirty and disheveled she pulls it over her head. 

My eyes trace down her back, scarred and bruised. Muscular, and toned. Heart flutters, and a familiar heat builds. It's crazy how after all these years just seeing her still triggers these primal feelings. She just does something to me. She always has. My eyes stop wondering when I see a deep fresh cut following the curve of her hip. 

“Shit els? What happened” I get up and pace towards her keeping my eyes on the wound. 

She bends over pulling her shoes off, losing her balance a bit and mumbling a frustrated “fuck” under her breath. Now behind her, I prod at the gash and she swears again. I can feel her flinch. 

“I'll go get the stitches, sit down.” I say pulling her to the bed. She hits the bed with a thud and leans her elbows onto her knees.Shaking her head “it's not that bad babe, im fine.” She looks up at me and gives a half-hearted smile.

“I know you're fine,” I say, giving her a gentle look “I just don't want it to get infected, okay?” 

“Anything you say doc” she says with a smirk before turning to address the cut herself. She touches it lightly and winces when her fingers make contact. I head to the bathroom across the hall from our room and grab the small white kit from the medicine cabinet, and make my way back to our room. She's still sitting at the end of the bed, now rolling her neck side to side. 

I plop on the bed behind her, “okay, are you gonna tell me what happened now?” trying to distract her as I begin stitching the gash closed. Her back flexes and I hear her sharp intake of breath. Heart flutters. 

“Fucking stalkers. I hate those things” she says, shaking her head and looking up to the ceiling. “I was on patrol,”

“With Jesse right?”

“Don't remind me,” she says with a scoff that is cut off by another huff as I add a new stitch. Damn. Every breath in sync with the sutures releases a morbid butterfly into the pit of my stomach.  “Yeah, I was on patrol with jesse. We were checking out that one restaurant by the lodge, and I found an entrance to the attic. That place has been cleared out for like forever, so I went up on my own and got jumped by a stalker.” she shrugged her shoulders. “Fucking thing nailed me into an old piece of plywood. Piece of shit.” I tie her last stitch off, and give her a gentle pat to tell her she was finished. I got up and made my way to the bathroom to put the kit back.

I turned in the doorway on my way out, “Maybe you should’ve been more careful.” She swings her head at me with squinted eyes. I shrug and turn, heading to the bathroom “just saying!” 

“Fuck off” she calls back, I lightly laugh.

Back in the bedroom, she's lying on her stomach, head resting on her hands. “And then of course Jesse had to give me a fucking lecture about not going anywhere on my own, team communication! All that bullshit.” She turns onto her side propping herself up with one arm, “I’m just so fucking over it.” she looked absolutely exasperated. Oh how I love her dramatics. I sit facing her and her free hand falls to my hip. She looks at her hand, then up to me. Those green eyes, familiar and warm. Home. I smile at her. 

“That sucks. I'm sorry. I mean Jesse should know by now, there's no getting through that thick skull of yours. What's a lecture gonna do?” I smirk at her.

“Ouch.” she sneers at me, one brow up. She lets out a quiet laugh, and looks back down to her hand on my waist. “Thanks for stitching me up babe.”

“You know I don't mind.” I say casually. She smiles, an inside joke painting a picture on the walls of her thoughts. 

“So weird that you're into that.” she chuckles

“I'm not into that.. I just..” her eyes darted to mine. My heart pounded in my ears. She's right, but it was just so blunt. “There's just something about a strong woman who needs my help.” I say fawning innocent eyes, partially joking, but subconsciously egging her on. She sees right through me.  

She raises her eyebrows, taking her hand from my hip and pushing herself up so she's sitting opposite of me. She smiles, “so stupid.” her eyes drift down to my lips, then back to me. I feel red flush my cheeks. Her gaze darkens slightly, noticing. She tilts her head looking at me. “I mean it's okay that you are, i'm not kink shaming” Her hand meets my thigh, electric, and she gives me a sideways smile. I gape at her, trying to make light of the tension building between us.

“So you like taking care of strong women? Yeah?” she says quietly with a smile in her voice as her eyes trace down my body to her hand. Her thumb started circling the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Funny, you're normally the one that begs to be'' she looks up at me teasingly “taken care of.” Fuck. I feel heat pool in my belly. My knees squeeze together by their own volition. She feels it and her teasing gaze turns to something else as her eyes shift to them. She bites her lip subtly. This woman. 

Her hand moves to the button of her pants, “well i did have a hard day,” she undoes it and glances at me with an evil smile. “And since you enjoy taking care of strong women” she pulled on her zipper. “Mind doing me a favor?”

Jesus Christ.

“What do you have in mind?” I say, wide eyed. I try to sound cool but my voice comes out hungry. Starved. I watch the switch flip in Ellie's eyes at my words. 

“Take your shirt off.” she demanded with raised brows, and before I could think I was pulling her baggy shirt I was lounging in over my head. I'm left sitting there topless, with nothing but my black underwear on. She rolled famished eyes over my bare skin for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes settled back on mine. I fidgeted my hands in my lap, feeling suddenly too vulnerable. She leans in slowly without breaking eye contact and my breath catches. Inches from me she whispers “Take off my pants.” 

Immediately I am in her service, at her beck and call. She knows all she has to do is ask. I'll do anything for her. She leans back onto her hands and lifts her hips slightly as I peel her jeans down the soft, yet lean, curves of her hips. Down her thighs, over her knees, and then calves, my eyes tracing every line of her legs. I toss them on the floor, and look back up to her awaiting further instruction. Her eyes are smiling with a dark inflection. 

“Lay down.” I looked at her confused, thinking I was the one taking care of her. Her tone was not a question however, so I obliged. I centered myself on the bed and pulled the nearest pillow under my head, keeping my eyes on her as she stood up and took her white boxers off. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her. Pretty, untamed. My knees squeeze, I don't try to hide it. She looks at them, and scans back up to my eyes. She stares into me as she walks around the bed to my side. I bite at my nail anxiously. 

“I want you to take care of me, make me feel good m’kay? Can you do that for me?” she asks with a small smile. I nod.

She looks over me once again (START OF AUDIO) “fuck, you look so pretty.” She climbs onto the bed, looking at me like prey to a predator. “Be a good girl for me” she whispers, as she swings one of her legs over my head. Shit, I get it now. Her pussy meets my lips and she lets out a soft “fuck” at my eager mouth. My arms wrap around her thighs, hands gripping soft flesh. She starts to move, pleasuring herself on my tongue. She moans softly, “needed this” she says desperately as her eyes drift close and her head drifts to the ceiling. Her taste envelopes me, her wetness growing by the second with the addition of my saliva wetting her folds. 

“Okay,” she moans, picking up her pace, grinding against my face. She looks down at me, before her eyes dart shut “There!”  I feel her body pulse at the peak of her thrusts and I know she's found her spot. Her bud flicking roughly over my tongue. “Oh shit.. There. There we go” she continues at her pace for a moment. Her pulsing getting stronger. Her eyes snap open and peer at me “Jesus, you feel so good.” she says as her head rolls back and her eyes closed again. She continues her rhythm as I pull my arm from under her leg and skim my hand up her body “okay” she says lost in the sensation. My palm cups her right breast and I squeeze impatiently, then rub a loving thumb over her nipple, circling it. “Damn… yeah” she sighs then her hand meets mine and squeezes the sensitive flesh with me “Baby just like that.” she bites her lip with a whispered “fuck” as she rides my face. 

Her moans and the graphic sound of her wetness fill the room. I reach my other hand down into my underwear and begin circling my own clit firmly, unable to avoid the tension building within my own body. “Fuck me.” she whines into the air, before looking down to me with adoring eyes, “that's my good girl.” her eyes tighten, “lets go” she whispers as she begins to grind harder and faster into my mouth. “Come on.” My hand on my core meets her pace. “Good. There. Okay. There we go” I love how she talks mindlessly when we fuck. Her voice is enough to bring me closer to my own apex. I begin moaning beneath her, unable to contain my own pleasure. She looks down at me “shhhh shh shh shh” she hushes as she pulls my hand from my aching clit before I can reach my undoing. I whimper in disappointment as she pulls my arm from beneath her leg and takes my other one from her chest before pinning them above my head in her strong hands, deepening her weight into my face. “Shut up” she corrects. 

Her rhythm continues and I can tell the new pressure she's added is building her quickly. “God damn.” she says as her eyes squeeze shut. “Okay” That same wrinkle between her eyes deepens again, this time out of pleasure. She rides harder pushing the back of my head further into the pillow. Her moans grow louder, more animalistic. her hands on my wrists tighten to the point that I am sure that there will be a mark. “Holy fuck” she gasps. She pushes hard against me and I can feel the pulse intensify, her sounds grow and grow until suddenly her hands let go of my wrists and bury deep into my hair, pushing me even further into her just at the right time when her head falls back in quiet breathy moans, she rides out her high on my mouth. Her legs shaking and clit pounding as I suck against it,  encouraging her. Tasting her. Worshiping her. She lets out a whimpering breath at the end of her climax and looks down at me beneath her. “Oh my god babe.” She slowly lifts off of my face and I see her flinch slightly at the air touching her sensitivity. She takes a breath before looking at me with a lazy smile.

 “All right. Your turn.”

[dulc3vida]

you.

rafe cameron x bunny!reader

part 1. this is my au so don't think too much about canon lore. characters, times, events, ect... might not match but PLEASE JUST ENJOY THE STORY PLEASE JUST GIVE IT A CHANCE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASe

warning: 18+ read at your own risk. this is a dark fic loosely inspired by the tv show you. dubious content lies ahead, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

UNC Chapel Hill: September, Sophomore Year

there was nothing rafe cameron hated more than being tutored. it made him feel stupid, needing someone to explain and break down concepts that others understood easily. ward used to lose his mind trying to find rafe new tutors because in all honesty, when rafe felt cornered or helpless, he got nasty. saying the rudest things that made these well-paid, private tutors basically discard a paycheck, was one of the first times rafe ever felt true power. the first time he ever came close to knowing what his dad felt like, even though his dad had a much better reputation than rafe ever would.

rafe especially hated english. the books were boring and he could never be bothered to sumbit more than a half baked essay regarding the text. that's how he ended up in the study room in the library sitting across from you. he remembered you from class, the TA. you always sat besides prof. callahans desk and you looked younger than any TA he had ever had, probably even his age. your face was familiar but rafe couldn't put his finger on it. you were clean, you smelled good, and your nails were done which meant you had the time and money to take care of that kind of thing when most college students forget to feed themselves. you occasionally looked up from the signup sheet as the minutes ticked 5 past 3pm, where only rafe's name was signed.

"i guess we can start now." you mumbled, flipping your notebook open. "this weeks quiz is going to cover part 1 of crime and punishment. have you... started the reading?"

rafe's hard gaze bored into yours and he shook his head without another word. he was thinking about how cute and neurotic the way you had your notes organized was and how soft you spoke to him. were you scared of him? rafe was intrigued.

"okay, no biggie. we can just start there. did you check out a copy of the book?" you asked, pulling out your own copy that was bursting at the seam with sticky notes and colored tabs. again, rafe wordlessly shook his head. "good thing we're in the library. come on, let's go see if they have any left."

rafe followed close behind you, you could practically feel him breathing down your neck as you walked through rows of books before finding the one you were looking for. you showed rafe how to check a book out before returning to the study room. "okay. let's start."

you began dissecting the book from the very beginning, soft voice describing the historical context of the book. rafe was surprised at how well he was keeping up. it didn't hurt that you were cute, nose all blushed and button, scrunching up whenever you couldn't read your own handwriting in your notes. a pair of clear framed glasses sat on the bridge of your nose which you constantly adjusted due to your eyelashes hitting the glass. you had a habit of licking and biting your lips, applying lipgloss on every "brain break" as you called it. maybe all this time, all he needed was a cute tutor that he could stand looking at.

in between writing notes and flipping through the book, he caught glimpses of a "j" necklace dangling in your cleavage. did your name start with a j?

"what's your name?" rafe asked once the two of you began packing your things up. it was now 7:30 with the sun beginning to set. you told him and he repeated it under his breath.

"my friends call me bunny though." if you're bunny, who is j? you tossed your bag over your shoulder and let your hair down from the claw clip that was holding it up. it billowed over your shoulders and you tucked a few stray strands behind your ears after taking your glasses off. you weren't the shy good girl he met at the beginning of the session, no, you were different. good girl in front of everyone but he knew there was another energy in you that he wanted- no he needed to see. rafe watched you leave, staying a few steps behind, where he could comfortably watch you and before he knew it, you were jumping into the passenger side of a beat up old brown van that pulled up, and leaning over to give whoever was driving a kiss.

rafe felt a familiar, red hot anger wash over him. the first time he felt that anger was when sarah was born and ward wouldn't stop fawning over her. ward basically forgot he had a son when sarah was born which made rafe incredibly insecure. that insecurity built a home inside rafe's heart, where any little inconvenience could turn it into an ugly monster with sharp teeth and a desire to tear everything in sight into fucking pieces. this time, the monster was awakened at the reality of you having a boyfriend.

against his better judgement, rafe ran to his truck the second you took off, speeding down the road he saw you drive down. it took him a minute, but he managed to find the shitbox on wheels you were riding around in. he made sure to stay far enough away to where it didn't seem suspicious, but close enough to where he wouldn't lose you again.

he wouldn't lose you again.

he repeated that phrase to himself as he drove into jacksonville and while he parked his car a few spaces from the van in a place where your little group was fully visible. you came to the beach. there was 3 guys, 1 girl, and you. gone were your leggings, tank top, and cardigan. instead, you donned a pair of cutoff jean shorts, a bikini top, and a huge smile on your face as you settled yourself in the blonde boys lap.

rafe thought he recognized the group you were with, but he was hoping his eyes were just playing tricks. of course, it could never be that simple because rafe did know them. the pogues. what were they doing on the mainland? he hadn't seen them in a while and was getting used to not having to see or smell them other than when he went home for holidays.

jj, he knew worked in the cafeteria ever since he graduated earlier in the spring, which is probably how he met you. rafe had never been fond of jj, in fact, rafe lived to antagonize jj back on the island (if he cared for the cafeteria food, he would probably be in there a lot more to mess with him) so him having you felt like poorly timed karma. to be completely honest, rafe hadn't expected such a dramatic shift of power dynamics when coming to college because now there was at least 10 other rafe's who were dating the girls he should have been dating. he did just fine at parties, more than fine, but he was starting to get tired of drunk girls who just lied there all limp and sweaty or threw up on his dick (happened twice freshman year and he didn't enjoy it like he thought he would). the first decent, eligible girl he meets is getting her pussy dug out by jj maybank of all people and it felt like someone, somewhere was laughing at his misfortune. it almost made him want to give up on you.

almost.

he would never let jj maybank win at anything, let alone your heart. there was just something about you that he couldn't let go. the only thing he couldn't figure out was why everyone else was here too? none of them had a chance of getting into chapel hill. you either had to have perfect grades, be incredibly wealthy, or be a legacy student. thankfully, rafe managed to be 2/3 of those things.

rafe sat back in his seat and just observed you. he cracked his windows open and tried to listen to your conversation but he was too far to hear anything other than laughter and unintelligible voices. he pulled his phone out and typed your name into instagram, easily finding your very public page.

rafe decided to do some digging. he would start at the bottom. scrolling all the way back through a very curated feed (rafe could tell you pick and choose which of your old posts get to stay up and which ones ruin the feed) rafe felt his heart sink.

he knew you.

OBX: Summer 2018

"come on, bunny, i don't wanna go without you." your friend, esther, pleaded. she had been invited to rafe camerons party, a coveted event where anything and everything happened. esther was dating rafe's friend kelce, who invited her to the party.

"you're not even gonna talk to me so what's the point in going." you responded, filing your nails while you laid in bed.

"honestly, when's the last time you really went out? you only ever go to the country club and don't say your parents make you because last time you weren't even with your parents."

"well, the old men buy me drinks if i talk to them and make them laugh. sometimes they give me money. one of them gave me this tiffany bracelet." you stuck your wrist out to show off the silver bracelet with the heart tag which was branded with the company's insignia.

"that's kinda gross." esther scrunched her nose. you only shrugged your shoulders.

"so is going to a party at rafe camerons house. jungle juice is probably roofied" rafe had been the stereotypical jock douchebag who only hung out with other jocks, cheerleaders, or other impossibly gorgeous girls. you saw right through him which is why you never caved. not when he invited you to his lunch table, not when he asked you out, not when he tried to grind against you on the dancefloor at junior prom and called you a bitch when you pushed him away. at some point, rafe stopped trying trying with you and turned his attention and "where my hug at?" energy towards other girls who were much more susceptible.

"so we'll pregame. just please don't make me go alone." in a flash, esther sat on top of you and pinned your arms down while a string of "please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top!" tumbled out of her mouth.

"OKAY!" you had enough, but were still giggling. "i'll go, just get off of me so i can change."

"yay!" esther rolled off of you. "wear the black one, the one that makes you look slutty."

"aren't we supposed to be getting you laid?" you asked, looking through your closet that was practically overflowing with expensive name brands.

esther looked down at her hands. "me and kelce already..."

"no way. really?" she nodded and you squealed rushing over to hug her. "babe i'm so proud of you! wait- why do you need me there then?"

"its the first time i'm meeting his friends and i'm nervous." she explained, now looking through your clothes with you. "i need a buffer, yknow, a cute friend who can keep my boyfriends friends occupied."

you blinked. "so basically, you're whoring me out?"

"you just told me that you talk to old men for money and gifts."

"yeah and they don't even get to see me in my little black dress."

when you arrived at the party, it was in full swing. rafe caneron's parties had a reputation. booze flowed, drugs were shared, and there were enough rooms in the house for every couple to get busy in. it was the perfect haven for teen delinquency.

you were unimpressed, as per usual, with rafe's antics. he had been in the pool when you arrived, a girl on either side of him while he smoked a joint.

"how long do i have to stay?"

"until you start enjoying yourself."

you went to the bar. grabbing a red solo cup, you mixed yourself a drink of cherry vodka and coke. you chugged it, always having the attitude that when it came to alcohol you had to get right to the point. when you finished it, you made yourself another one.

"excuse me." a hand gently placed itself on the small of your back which made you jump. "my bad, didn't mean to scare ya- hey you're esthers friend right?" it was topper. "i just saw her with kelce. i'm topper." he stuck his hand out.

"bunny." you took it.

"whatcha got there?"

"chery vodka and coke."

"nah nah nah- you like the cherry vodka?" you nodded and he took your cup from you. "let me make you a drink."

"okay." you watched his every move as he fixed cherry vodka, cranberry juice, and lime in a brand new cup. "thank you. what is this?"

"it's called a cherry bounce. cheers to you, bunny. hopefully this isn't the last time i see you."

you only smiled at him, tight lipped and gently tapped your cup against his before taking a drink. "topper, this is really good. make me another?"

"you're not even done with that one yet." with that, you drank the rest of your cup. "okay, party girl." he took your cup back and fixed you another. "you wanna dance?"

you hated to admit it, but you actually were having a good time with topper. he was funny, kind, nice to look at, and he was a good dancer. the night was going so good, until esther invited you and topper to sesh with her, kelce, and rafe as the party died down.

it wasn't the sesh that was bad, no, you even managed to be polite and sociable with rafe. it was after the sesh when your drinks had caught up with you and you needed to pee. "esther can you show me where the bathroom is?" you asked but it fell on deaf ears as esther and kelce were mouth fucking.

"c'mon. i'll show you." rafe got up and began walking inside the house without another word. you quickly followed, only wanting to relieve your bladder and be alone for a few minutes to gather yourself and your thoughts that were racing on account of the sativa blunt you had just smoked.

rafe walked up the stairs, basically torturing your bladder with every step until he got into his room. "just use this one."

you were too desperate to argue about whatever his intentions were bringing you here so you went in and almost tripped over yourself getting to the toilet. you made it through, no accidents happening and feeling a lot more gone than when you walked up the stairs.

you stepped back into rafes room and he was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you. "you okay? you were in there for a while."

"yeah." you stumbled over to sit next to him but he got up and went to his window. "just a little dizzy."

"everyone fell asleep." rafe watched his friends make themselves comfortable on the outside couch on this hot summer night. you climbed over his bed and looked out the window at the sight of your friend asleep on her boyfriend's chest and topper asleep, hugging a pillow.

"do i get a prize?" he cocked his head at you. "for being the last one awake at a rafe cameron party?"

"what do you want?" rafe asked you seriously and you sighed, lying back against his navy blue sheets.

"for you to not be such an asshole." you murmured and stared at the ceiling. "i mean, you're really cute but you ruin it by being... you."

"i knew you had a thing for me." rafe must have only heard half of what you were saying because he was taking his place back next to you on his bed. "c'mere." he patted his lap and it didn't take much more coaxing than that to get you crawling into his lap. he positioned himself the way he wanted you, straddling him with your crotch right on top of his. "been waiting for you to finally come around." he trailed his hands up and down from your waist to your ass. "y'gonna let me inside that pretty pussy babe?" rafe whispered in your ear, sending all your intoxicated arousal straight to your core.

if you had been in a clearer state of mind, you would have never even been in rafe's room, but here you were letting him guide your hips to grind against you through the thin layer of your black lacy panties. your short dress had already ridden up your thighs, exposing you even more than you already were.

unexpectedly, rafe tugged the top of your dress down and leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth. when he grazed his teeth against your sensitive, hardened peak, you gasped and jolted against him. "rafe." you whispered, trying to get his attention because your head was spinning. instead, his hand found a place between your legs and pushed your panties to the side, dragging his fingers through your folds and spreading your wetness. he used it to rub your clit in circles, encouraged by your whimpers in his ear. "oh rafe..." you felt your orgasm building quickly due to your drunken state, but you also felt a pit building in your stomach. this felt wrong.

you blinked and you were on your back. your dress had found a place across your stomach and your panties were torn off of you without your knowledge. you closed your eyes, hoping if he thought you were asleep that he would just stop.

of course, things would not be that simple.

while your eyes were closed, rafe got undressed and slipped a condom over his cock. he grabbed a pillow and placed it under your hips to prop your pussy up for him at the perfect angle. he took his cock and tapped it against your clit. "wake up, sleepy girl." you only whined and tried to close your legs but he forced himself between them so you couldn't.

your eyes snapped open when you felt the intrusion of his cock. "uhhh..." you let out a mixture of a moan and a whine. the stretch burned because no matter how wet you were, rafe was objectively big, especially the mushroom tip of it. you didn't know if it was the liquor, the weed, or what, but you could basically picture what it looked like based on the way it felt inside you.

rafe gave you no time to adjust and set a punishing pace off the bat. he had one of his large hands splayed over your stomach, pushing down and making you let out a short, loud moan. "let me hear you. wanna hear how good i fuck this pussy." rafe grunted while thrusting in and out.

you, in your state, were incredibly embarrassed no matter how good he hit your spots so you were barely letting any noise escape your mouth.

"always playing hard to get... you're gushing around my cock... and making a mess on my sheets... but you still act all stuck up..." rafe spat at you through his teeth and you let out another high pitched whine. he punctuated each word with a hard thrust, his balls now slapping your ass with vigor. "gotta put you in your place, huh?"

he flipped you over and pulled you onto all fours. his hand splayed across your back this time and pushed your chest into the bed, creating a beautiful arch to your back. "so fuckin pretty." he moaned when the slid back into your tight warmth. the change of position did nothing to help you hold onto the little composure you had as he was now deeper than before, mushroom tip generously rubbing against your g-spot and his balls now smacking your clit. you were too far gone to care how you looked throwing your hips back against his. "fucking slut." he grunted, grabbing a handful of your hair. "y'wanted this huh? yeah, yeah, you been needing this huh?"

you could only moan as he painfully gripped your hair and pushed himself balls deep, rolling his hips against yours. "you like the way i fuck you baby?"

"mhm..." you had your eyes closed as you focused on the tension building in your stomach. a heavy hand landed a smack against your ass.

"use your words. you like my cock?"

"i love it..." you desperately moaned out.

"good girl." rafe pushed your head back into the bed and drilled his cock into you brutally. you were struggling to hold your hips up, but rafe held you up with one arm. "fuck... m'gonna cum. y'gonna let me cum in this pussy?" rafe grunted and pulled out, sliding the condom off before thrusting back into you. "there we go." he spoke through gritted teeth. "thatagirl, pussy feels like heaven."

you felt the difference and opened your mouth to protest but all that came out was unintelligible pants and moans.

then you saw white.

your orgasm washed over you, making your pussy clench and flutter and cream around rafes cock. you felt rafes hips stutter against yours and then you felt hot ropes of cum paint your insides. you couldn't stop moaning because rafe was still inside you, slowly thrusting and rubbing your clit. "so fucking tight..." he commented as he watched the way your pussy suctioned his cock and pulled out.

against your knowledge, rafe had been recording since he got you in doggy and was still recording. "shit..." he groaned as he focused the camera on your glistening pussy. a drop of his cum came dribbling out and he pushed it back in, earning a soft "ahhh..." from you. he played with your sensitive cunt until you came again for the camera and passed out.

when you woke up, you were alone. for a brief moment, you hadn't remembered what happened and were just confused as to where you were. you peered around the room and saw your dress and torn panties and it all came rushing back. the drinks, the sesh, having sex with rafe cameron. he must have changed you because you didn't remember putting on one of his shirts or sweats.

you checked your phone and your parents had been blowing you up since 8am. it was noon. you had missed calls from esther and a series of texts that said she couldn't find you in the morning and hopes you made it home safe. "shit." you groaned and got out of bed, legs sore from the sex you could only remember flashes of. you tidied the room up and changed back into your clothes before walking downstairs with your heels in hand. you slowed as you reached the foyer, hearing voices from the parlor.

"i don't know dude, doesn't feel right to watch this."

"she was totally cool with it, c'mon."

"you're gonna wanna see this."

you recognized the voices as topper, rafe, and kelce. then a video began playing and at first it just sounded like porn, then you realized it was your moans streaming through rafes phone.

"you like the way i fuck you?"

"mhm..."

"use your words. you like my cock?"

"i love it..."

"good girl."

you felt sick to your stomach as you heard the boys commenting on the video. how could you be so stupid? of course rafe would record you without permission while you were off your ass last night. you only blamed yourself as you walked home from tannyhill.

the video followed you around over the summer and you only managed to escape it when you went off to college.

rafe never thought twice about you after that.

JACKSONVILLE: Present.

rafe stared at your instagram feed in utter disbelief. he hadn't thought about you or the video since that summer. he honestly forgot it even happened. he wasn't a douchebag, he was a handsome young man who took all the opportunities presented to him (as he told himself). was sending the video around immature and stupid? probably. he was a kid though. everyone makes mistakes, or at least that's what he tried to tell himself as he looked through old pictures of you. did you remember him? you must have. you looked different from the last time he saw you but he looked the same. you definitely knew who he was the second he came into the study room and he didn't know how to feel about that. it made his job easier and harder. he already had a connection with you, but he would have to go through a grueling apology process that he really didn't care for. he just needed to have you.

as he scrolled into the more recent stuff, he couldn't help but notice that you didn't post jj on here at all. the page was a monument to you, all the better, and you were gorgeous on here. 2k followers with 1k likes on every post you made and comments that varied from "you're so gorgeous" to "just give me one chance." you had a highlight titled "my <3" and there was only one picture of you holding jj's hand with the song "melting" by kali uchis which was posted only a month ago.

he left your profile and went into his camera roll, into the hidden folder and scrolled back to 2018. he found the video and pressed play, his cock getting hard immediately and straining against his pants. soon enough, he had his phone pressed to his ear and his hand down his pants as he watched you and kie gathering firewood. soon enough, he was cumming in his hand to the sound of you saying that you loved his cock.

rafe managed to clean up a little and continued to watch you, well into the night as you and your friends built a bonfire and smoked a joint. it was midnight when you all had decided to leave. he followed the dirty old van back to campus and learned where your dorm was, watching you and jj head in.

rafe made it back to his dorm at around 3:30am. the more he learned, the more questions he had. rafe fell asleep with only one thing on his mind.

you.

[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

[metabolizemotions]

They only fetishize queer people. Especially our pain. We are not real, entire human beings to them. The celebrate the straight couples - their relationship, intimacy n all; fetishize the bodies of queer men; n fetishize the idea of queer women.

The extent to which they tolerate our sexuality is the short snippets in promo clips. They only want to exploit our online engagement. Ironically our viewership might be bringing in the ad buyers who r trying to erase us.

They try to erase the specificity of the "queer" part, but only use the pain, the convenient stereotypes, the virtue-signaling part to gain brownie points n for good drama. They joke about cultural appropriation n did exactly that during the pride episode with the straight couple's proposal. Same-sex marriage. What are you talking about? It's about queer hate n straight allyship.

They capitalize on the "women" part, to further fetishize our biology. So if it's 2 women in a relationship - it's double the drama about making babies, bad genes, n jokes about hormones n our body parts. But it's 2 women, how can they possibly manage w/o "big, strong, sensitive", straight men with good genes to contribute n overflowing empathy to deal with them being emotional n hormonal?

It's 5b, it's pride, it's the burning man all over again. First they elevate Jack, now Beckett. Pride was about cheating queer men n high queer woman. An intimate scene of Marina must be minimized n hidden among the others' or edited to death in a montage. It's as scary as a man burning to death.

The fact that they haven't even shared a proper kiss this season through any joyful or emotional moment... They just come up with more ways to obscure the kiss, if any. Bad lighting, bad angles n bad editing are prerequisites. They r also written into the script.

Of course they make an important life decision in the NICU, n it's completely inappropriate for a married w|w to share a quick kiss - which we saw via the back of their heads. Unlike a gay man having sex with an ex at the funeral of the ex's dad - while cheating on his partner - twice. Perfectly lit with no obstructions of course.

Even in their ugly kitchen they're assigned, with a perfectly good scene setup, nope. Too brightly lit for queer woman - save it for a long morning kiss b/w gay men in their nice kitchen.

Emotional scene about Carina's fertility issues and reciprocal IVF - okay a kiss allowed grudgingly - but just 0.5 sec. Their lips touched. You get the idea. Why are you fans so demanding? Time is reserved for the 101th proposal of the straight couple n their extended kisses. A proper Marina love scene? You perverts. More explicit sex scenes b/w straight couples are needed.

I don't want to rehash about Jack. I've said plenty about Beckett. Just that men's mistakes are dismissed and minimized. It is not enough to show every painful step of Maya apologizing and making amends. Maya and Carina must also be used to make the audience sympathize with Jack and Beckett. It is a deliberate yet thoughtless choice to use Carina's SA trauma to sympathize with Jack. Just as it is to use Maya's family trauma to sympathize with Beckett. Esp the context of the shot. It is esp violating. They might as well just get Jack to show up for this. They never really got it, did they?

However one chooses to justify these choices, it's not only unnec but wrong to include the men. Esp not Beckett - the man who bullied her for months till her breakdown. Even if he never apologized and they insist on using Maya's pain to make him look good in his redemption arc, idc at this point, but this is just not the time.

If it must be a man, get Travis. Make it a conversation b/w queer people, about queer hate, about their families. Travis sympathizing with Maya, about a journey he wouldn't know about. Way better than jokes on hormones with the guys. A cheap way to get a laugh at an arduous process. I thought we left 5b n mocking queer women behind.

It could have been one beautiful scene with Andy and Vic. They haven't had a proper one since s1 & 2. They would have understood about Mason, if not for their long friendship, there's 703. It could have been about the pain women go thru - Andy and Vic about their abortions or Maya about experiencing what Carina underwent... The show really isn't big on female camaraderie.

But it should really be Carina. Among all the scenes of Carina in the station bathroom - which have been a lot - this is probably the most appropriate if they must set it there. Definitely more so that her own insemination, which was ridiculous.

These are moments that they should only share with each other, privately n intimately. These precious moments that are dwindling - few n short to begin with. It's not irl, it's one scene in an ensemble show. They sure could have romanticized this. It doesn't even have to be half as dramatic as a regular scene of their golden couple. D & S will create magic.

Esp in this episode, there's so much to unpack. With everything they've been thru on their own, the ending could have been about them at home, checking in n sharing their day. Talking about the lawsuit, the hate on queers, their brothers, the boundaries they had to set with their families... Doing the trigger shot together - esp after their emotional scene in 705 n to cap off the morning scene. A perfect setup for their emotional n physical intimacy.

But of course it didn't happen. Other important moments in their lives about their new home n new baby were also short parts of wordless montages. They are even less important than scenes of the others having drinks n sex.

Queer women just don't matter.

[gothushi]

okay so i haven’t found anywhere to watch the full episodes nor do i know any context of the show/his character so this’ll just be like.. my own interpretation/ideas? if anyone does have anywhere i can watch the as if episodes he’s in from in the US please lemme know:D

starting off a bit deep, i think he struggles with some mental health issues, possibly some trauma from a past relationship or a family member, (considering how he freaked when he had his photo taken suddenly with his shirt off) i won’t detail much bc i’m still thinking on it

so, due to that above, i think he needs to learn consent and communication is extremely important to him. it probably causes some issues early on in your relationship, he probably walks out a lot when he gets upset, takes time to cool off and then comes crawling back with tears and an apology (you eventually get him into therapy)

probably works at the local library. likes organizing things and putting everything where they go, and his favorite section is the CD’s

sappy and cliche as it is, he loves dancing with you in the kitchen of your little apartment. 2am, making something sweet to satisfy a late night craving, a CD playing in the radio on low volume. he’ll spin you around, sway with you, grinning all big as he leans forward to kiss your head

really likes getting spanked. yes i’ll elaborate later

after a few months, instead of walking out when he’s upset, (even if he still shuts down and is just quiet for a bit) he likes laying down with you in bed. lets you hold him, rub your hands over his back and arms, press gentle kisses to his skin, it helps calm him more than he knows (inspired from one clip i’ll either add to this or post separately)

could make out with you for HOURS i mean it. sat in bed up against the wall or headboard, you in his lap or laid on his chest, kissing messy until you’re both drooling and barely able to breathe, he likes that, a lot. also grabbing at you, very handsy in a gentle way

back to spanking in more detail. it was a fun little thing at first, a little playful slap here or there, either during the day randomly or during sex. after he gets into therapy and whatnot, he actually asks if it can be used like an actual punishment, something to ground his mind if he gets angry or upset even if it isn’t directed at you. so bend him over your lap, hold an arm behind his back and spank until he cries. he’ll wiggle, kick his feet, whine in that cute little tone, but once the tears fall he’s learnt his lesson and he’s done. comfort him with some kisses while rubbing his back and thighs, and then let him fuck into you until his hearts content

speaking of fucking ^ possessive, growls, groans, whines, all kinds of noises into your neck or against your mouth. pins you down and lays his body over yours, flesh to flesh, hips chasing a sloppy rhythm against your own while he mouths at your neck

likes groping you, during sex or randomly. will grab at your tits over your shirt, massage the muscles in your thighs while you ride him, grab at your tummy when he hugs you from behind

really really really likes cute dates with you, go to the park with him, go on a picnic, go to the movies. it helps unknowingly heal the part of him that he lost in earlier years due to his issues and trauma

very affectionate, kisses your forehead a lot, holds your hand or side hugs you when out in public, will definitely be the boyfriend to make out with you standing on the sidewalk or in the corner of a cafe

also really likes you play with his hair, lets you braid it, comb it for him, tuck it behind his ears whilst he’s smiling at you all big and giddy, loves you grabbing it and pulling it during sex

[bts-siwan]

www.jiwancutemoments.com

intro : hello losers i’m back after a year long hiatus 💀 i’ve been catching up on content recently and have been bombarded with so many jiwan moments that i finally decided it was time to make this compilation

intro : jiwan are literally my roman empire so without further ado let’s get into the video!

clip one : run bts ep.71 (behind)

“should i eat one?” *jm eyeing the pork belly + looking back at the other members who are busy with something else*

*heavy contemplation* “no i need to maintain my diet” *really wants to eat it tho*

*cue siwan entering to save the day* “everything okay?” *always the heavily concerned hyung as he takes a seat next to jm* *now cue jm pretending to be fine*

*mindreader sw knows what’s up* “you want to eat the pork belly?” *he can see the way jm’s mouth is frothing tbh* “why don’t you just eat it then?”

*jm shaking his head* “i have to maintain my diet” *sw literally spacing out for a moment before turning to the cameraman*

“i think camera-nim disagrees. isn’t this samgyeop-sal so delicious?” *picking up some with chopsticks* “camera-nim and i will keep it a secret. you can have one”

*proceeds to feed him like half the plate*

commentary : ladies get yourself a man who dotes on you like siwan does jimin because ain’t no way he’s looking at anyone else like he is this man

clip two : run bts ep.12

*literally in the midst of filming the police skit* *jm is being interrogated by officer sw*

“you don’t know what you’re in for? are you trying to play a joke on me?” *actor sw has been on a role so far but jm is ready to pull out the big guns*

*pushing down sw’s laptop screen to see him better* “ah, officer~ but is it really my fault? i don’t know why i’m here” *pouting + seduction charm*

*sw is big gulping rn* *they so caught it on camera + sw’s pursed lips trying to stay in character* “y-your charms don’t work on me” *avoiding eye contact to the max* “look into the camera with those eyes”

*jm giggling bc he can see he’s affecting sw but follows his instructions anyway* “like this?” *posing at the camera cutely + sw making the slightest eye contact and immediately melting from within*

*sw’s junior officer tae puts a hand on his shoulder* “should i take it from here? you seem like you need some rest, hyung-nim” *calling him out but trying to save him at the same time*

*sw leaves as jm blows him one last kiss + a flirty wave*

commentary : your honour he malfunctioned in 4K LMAO but honestly who can blame him 😭

clip three : jimin’s injury

commentary : so for context jimin needed a temporary arm sling due to sustaining an injury during practice. some of the members were eating in another room

*staff letting the few members present know about jimin’s injury* *cue sw’s face immediately changing from laidback to sitting upright*

“is he all right? is jimin okay?” *hobi also concerned as jm walks into the room* *sw struggling to conceal his emotions*

“can you not move it at all? does it hurt a lot?” *jm is explaining the situation but sw still feels anxious and worried*

“jimin-ah, come sit here” *sw already making space + standing up to help jm* *jm can’t help but smile bc sw always gets like this over minor issues* “you’re cute”

*moody sw who scolds jm for getting hurt but coddling him to death*

commentary : no because tell me why this man is so precious HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA CRY OVER JIMIN’S INJURY. protect this man at all costs.

clip four : run bts ep.145

*jm tugging on sw’s sleeve for attention as he attempts to read a hint* *confused but curious hyung* “how do i look?” *asking for ops on his cute lil pink hanbok*

*sw blinks as jm does a twirl* *proceeds to grab a flower from the bush behind jm before offering it to him and leaving without another word lmao*

*startled jm at the camera* “i think he just helped me with my mission without realising”

commentary : so tsundere of him tbh 😍😍😍 ik jimin loves a little play of hard to get (also he looked so effing cute in his hanbok like the ring is ready, the dress is ready, the altar is there)

clip five : run bts ep.83 (behind)

*baby jm who seems to be having too much fun in the pool and doesn’t wanna get out* *swimming cutely rn*

“ah, get out already! we need to film” “this guy, seriously…” *older hyungs are complaining*

“look at this!” *jm continues to swim cutely like a puppy* *nj is so done even tho he finds it cute too*

“wanie, get him out” *literally the only man for the job* *sw decides to enter the pool to collect jm but jm sees it coming*

*quickly attempting to neutralise the threat by splashing water on sw* *sw wiping the water from his face before dipping beneath the water fully*

*jm is startled when sw comes up from underneath him* *jm is now sat upon sw’s shoulders in the pool*

“yah… he’s coming out in style!” “those shoulders are no joke…” “me next! me next!”

commentary : one thing both jimin and i have in common is our love for siwan’s strength because he did not need to do all that and yet here we are

commentary : not that i’m complaining 😏

clip six : run bts ep.75 (behind)

*jm is tired from a long day of shooting* *still not time to go home yet*

“we might have to film yoongi’s again. i wanna try it with a different angle” *lots of retakes bc bangtan are perfectionists* *jm is honestly half asleep in his pjs*

*director sw is not too bothered as he gives jin a thumbs up + easily guides jm to settle his head against sw’s shoulder*

*moments later and sw has requested for a blanket for jm too after quieting everyone else down* “i think we should stop it here for now” *totally not bc jm is asleep or anything*

commentary : they are honestly so kdrama boyfriends coded it’s not even funny y’all

clip seven : jimin’s cheeks

*jm gauging his face as the cameraman records him* *hands on cheeks* “are they red? can you see it?” *feeling shy rn*

*trying to get another look but quickly covers his cheeks again* “ah, is it really bad?” *cue jm going on a manhunt to ask another member’s opinion*

*ends up locating sw by the food table filling his plate* *walking up to him + tugging the bottom of his sweater*

*sw mid-snack as he turns to look at jm and sees the camera* *full cheeks laughing shyly before turning his attention back to jm after he’s done eating* “mm?”

“do my cheeks look red?” *asking with a pout* *sw instinctively lifts his hand to cup jm’s cheek + caresses it with the pad of his thumb* “a little. why, did you drink?”

*entranced jm cosying up to sw’s affection immediately lol* “i think it might’ve been the noodles. does it look bad?” “it’s cute. you always look cute.” *continues to caress jm’s cheek*

“YAH STOP FLIRTING!” *hobi in the bg*

commentary : WHAT WAS THE REASON?? WHAT WAS THE REASON??? hobi is all of us actually

clip eight : jimin’s cheeks pt.2 (because siwan is obsessed with them)

*in the midst of an interview* “siwan-ssi, what about you? we’ve heard you have a very close bond with jimin-ssi. can you tell us what you like about him?”

*shy sw hour as he smiles + avoids eye contact* *cheeky jm can’t wait to hear his answer* “hyung-nim loves all of me right~?” *biggest tease on the planet*

*other members are also enjoying this way too much* “they’re always together.” “yah, he’s blushing. look at him.”

*sw waving them off + trying to collect himself* “no, no. ah,” *looking over at jm for a moment* *finding it difficult to maintain eye contact but he’s smiling bashfully* “i think… i like his cheeks. they’re chubby and squishable so i like to play with them.”

*an innocent comment is quickly taken out of context* “WHAT?!” “siwan-ssi, you play with jimin’s cheeks?” *nj being dirty minded* *sw quick to defend himself and waving frantically* “no! no, i meant i like to- ah, forget it. you guys need to get yourselves checked.” *tsking*

*jm is honestly living for this tbh* *interviewer is clearly a big jiwan fan as he asks his next question after everyone has calmed down* “would you be able to give jimin-ssi a kiss on the cheek for fans?”

*cue a ‘disgruntled’ sw placing a kiss on jm’s cheek + jm’s hand instinctively reaching up to touch the area he was kissed with a giggly blush*

commentary : i would actually kill for fetus jiwan because just look at how pure they are here. siwan was so shy :(( i love them so much my lil beans

conclusion : guys i could seriously go on forever with the amount of jiwan content there is out there but i needed to end the video at some point <\3 i hope everyone enjoyed jiwan’s cute little moments as much as i did and i will see you guys in the next one, bye bye !!

TAGLIST

@pandorasword , @ateezsora , @anqelws , @kaitieskidmore97 , @vizianary

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

So Pigeon Washing Machine Man, Huh?

Sometimes you may have heard me mention a character by the name of Pigeon Washing Machine Man, or Pigeon Man for short. Often I haven’t mentioned very good things, but I haven’t really gone in depth about who that guy is or why he’s so.. despicable. No more! I will now finally share with you the story of Pigeon Man, and the most unsettling nightmare I’ve had in my life.

Okay, first to set the context of the dream. You know those creepy videos that sometimes circle around, a la I Feel Fantastic? A brand new one was making waves in Internet circles. An arts and crafts tutorial, that somehow hid a dark secret inside it, at least that’s how the rumours went. I decided to give it a watch on YouTube: the very first clip at the beginning of the video was of a large, bright yellow claymation slug crawling on what appeared to be an empty bed frame. A cheery voice spoke, “arts and crafts can be a great way to spend your spare time!” That was about the only normal thing I heard in the entire dream. As my eyes were glued to the screen, my perception began to shift…

I was there. In the blink of an eye, without realising how or when, I suddenly found myself in a dimly lit, empty apartment. The main room was without any furniture, and all the windows were covered with thick curtains. No lights were on, only the small amount of natural light available. On the very back, there appeared to be a new room, with several glass doors and windows leading up to it but covered with red curtains like at a theater. On the other side of the hall, a kitchen. And in there was a man! A very average-looking brown-haired pale man in a long-sleeved shirt, he was always smiling and spoke in an overly enthusiastic YouTuber voice. I inferred from context clues that expecting guests over to his house. I had to infer this, as the man himself spoke complete nonsense — he either said phrases with no meaning entirely, or would replace words in otherwise appropriate sentences with incorrect ones. Two things I recall were him talking about pigeon washing machines (there’s the name!) and how the "guests should've died already" when he really meant they should've arrived.

The apartment, as mentioned, mostly consisted of a grey, empty "ballroom" with stairs leading downstairs in the middle, with three rooms connected to it. The bedroom, which was empty save for a single empty bed frame where the gigantic slug crawled, the bathroom with a single bathtub, where the robot "Police" told Pigeon man to clean before guests arrived. Police took the form of a rainbow-coloured screen with a pixelated face that took up my entire field of vision. The kitchen I could not enter. At the edges of my vision I could see people in strange costumes enter and disappear. They would walk in from the doors at the other side of the big room, and vanish into another door. My entire vision was also bombarded with floating colourful balls, strings, and other strange shapes.

Soon enough, guests arrived. All were children, from preschool age to my own age (I was about 17 at the time of the dream), and sometimes their clothes were covered in blood. Pigeon man didn't seem to care at all or mind. Every time I tried to look back the blood was gone, we were all just sort of.. waiting for something. At one point, before guests had arrived at all, I was walking behind Pigeon man, when he suddenly turned around and looked at me in the eyes. I was nervous, so I smiled at him. His response was to smile even wider with his teeth.

Eventually I had had enough of this horrible place where I could never shake off the feeling of dread! Me and some other girls my age decided we'd get the hell out of there. We descended down the ballroom stairs to a very large dark room, similar to an indoor car park. We ran in the cool, dark and empty space towards a light that seemed to be shining from under a door. Freedom was so close... except, recall how this whole thing happened in a video? The video rewinded, and I was back in the house of Pigeon man. Except, this time the staircase was gone. There was nowhere to go now.

I was beginning to panic, and right before my breaking point Pigeon man finally unveiled what he had been preparing the whole time: it was a group of people, all smiling and welcoming us! There were the people in the silly costumes, like animal and muppet costumes, there were my parents, and there seemed to be the parents of the other children, too. He wasn’t evil at all, I could see then, he had just tried to prepare this wonderful party for all of us! Relieved to see our families, me and the other guests rushed over for a happy reunion. I could see myself in third person talking and laughing. This is when a deep-voiced, disembodied narrator piped in. "But what they didn't expect," a high-pitched violin cue got louder, "was death."

Black. Everything went black. And that’s when I woke up.

[heartbreakgrill]

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Pt. 3, “This ain’t for the best.”

“Jesus, Daz.”

I looked up from my shoes, searching the crowd of people sitting before me for my brother’s brown eyes. He was twisted around in his chair with a concerned look on his face. Beneath that expression, I could tell he was really hungover. Like me, he wore eye bags, a grimace only one who had been up too late drinking could wear.

“You look like shit.”

I pulled out the chair next to Sam, dropping my bag and neck pillow onto the floor beside me. I stretched my lips apart, lamely, “Thanks so much.”

Sam faced forward as I sat down. He reached for his coffee cup, staring at me over the edge of it. “Sorry. Are you feeling okay? Oliver texted me before you guys left last night. Said you were sick.”

I flickered my eyes to the end of the table, where Oliver was sat. He gave a small smile, like it pained him to do so. I shrugged to Sam, “Fine.”

“Do you remember…anything?” Max inquired now. He chomped down on a bagel, his grin like a devil’s.

Out of the corner of my vision, I saw Oliver shift in his seat. I swallowed thickly, “Um…I remember…”

He was listening intently, anticipating my words.

“Dancing. Drinking. Dinner. Puking on the curb. After that, I…I don’t really know,” I ran my teeth over my bottom lip nervously.

“Don’t remember Oliver walking you home? Sleeping in his room? How about when I came and brought you back to ours? You don’t remember when you touched my hair and called me a poodle?” Sam rattled off a few memory joggers, but nothing clicked.

It was the truth. Well, it was…a partial truth.

I remembered snippets. Like clips from a sped up movie, shooting through my brain in memories that I couldn’t quite grasp. The warmth of Oliver’s chest, the feeling of his hoodie on my body, the Hello Kitty bandaids on my knees, his thumb stroking my cheek.

The sad part was, though his behavior was sweet that night, it didn’t change anything for me.

When I woke this morning, in my own bed, and I began to recall only small moments from the night before, I realized that Oliver only did as much because I had been seducing him all evening and, most importantly, because I was Sam’s baby sister. He would have faced hell had he not gotten me to bed safely. With the context of what I had remembered from our encounter, Oliver still couldn’t stand me. This was only confirmed when I knocked on his door this morning, secretly hoping that maybe there were missing pieces of my memory that would snap back into place once I saw him. Hoping that these missing memories would say something different.

Why? I didn’t exactly know the answer to that. From the interactions we had had thus far, I should hate him, not want him anywhere near me. But, something deep within me felt drawn to him, attracted to him. But, when he opened the door, I realized this was an unrequited want.

He looked…annoyed. He saw the hoodie in my hands, reached out with an expectant hand, and stared at me with darkness pooling in his eyes.

I set the hoodie in his grasp, brows furrowing. “Thanks…for your help.”

“Yeah,” he barely murmured before stepping back into his room and shutting the door.

So he really did hate me.

So, why was he so concerned with what I remembered?

I shook my head at Sam. My hand was shaking, from lack of sleep and anxiety, as I reached for the glass of water sitting before me. “No, sorry.”

“Oh, also,” Ronnie reached behind her, digging in her coat pocket, “Do you remember losing your wallet? The bouncer gave it to us when we were leaving.”

I ashamedly held out my hand, taking it from her. “Is that why I had to stay with Oliver?”

He shuffled at the sound of his name, glancing over his plate, dark eyes distant, dead. I watched him for a moment, noticing the way he ignored the very mention of himself, maintaining distance from our conversation even if he had every right- and every need- to speak up. Just because of me.

Sam glanced at the singer, expecting him to say something. When he didn’t, like I knew he wouldn’t, Sam said, “Yeah. Sorry. Came and got you as soon as I could.”

“It-it’s fine…” I trailed off, moving my gaze to my plate of food. Why did I feel rejected? I shouldn’t care about Oliver.

“Well, sorry for you losers, but,” Max pursed his lips, looking at our group with a cockiness in his eyes, “I’m unforgettable.”

I managed to chuckle at his air, “Oh, so true, Max.”

“In all seriousness, I had a great time last night.”

The others concerned themselves with their own conversations as Max focused on me, seated across from him. I glanced at Oliver, just curiously, and noticed he was on his phone, as per usual.

Why did he care what I remembered? Had he told me some secret? Had he kissed me, or done something inappropriate that would cause some sort of conflict? It was all very strange.

“Yeah,” I replied, distantly, before turning my focus back to Max. “Me, too. Thanks for buying my drinks.”

“Anytime, lovely.”

“Did I…” I scrunched my face up in embarrassment. Images of Max and I dancing flooded my mind. I remembered doing so, but I hadn’t realized until now that I had been so…flamboyant about it all. “Oh, God. Did i grind on you?”

Max’s grin was so bright, it nearly blinded me. “It was life changing.”

“Jesus Christ,” I lay my head in my palm, eyes squeezed shut. “Never let me drink that many Dirty Shirleys ever again.”

“Sorry,” Max spoke through his giggles, “I should have slowed you down. But, you were so relaxed. I figured you probably needed it last night.”

“Oh, I did,” I began to dig into my breakfast, knowing we’d be leaving quite soon. “I have been working my ass off in school for so long. And, I have to do it all again in just a few months.”

“Are you excited?” he asked me as he took another bite of his bagel.

I nodded slowly, “Yeah. Somewhat. I like school. But, this is so much fun, I can’t even think about that right now.”

“Don’t. Just…enjoy this. It’s already flying by. Don’t know what we’ll do for the rest of the tour without you.”

Max spoke with such sincerity that it broke my heart. I pouted at him, quickly swallowing to say, “Aw, Max. That's so sweet. I’m definitely going to miss this.”

“Two more months, love. Let’s make it last forever,” he winked cheekily, returning to his usual, teasing self.

I could do two more months with Max, with Adam, Cy, Ronnie, Sam. With weekend club trips, early morning breakfasts, venturing across Europe. I could do this forever.

But, I didn’t think I could do Oliver’s animosity forever. Not when my stomach clenched everytime he looked at me, not when my skin would get clammy, and my hands would shake with unrequited anticipation.

Not when I was feeling this way about him, and all he could do was glare at me.

-

Throughout the first week that we were in Italy, moments I experienced triggered memories like a shotgun ringing through the night. It was only small scenes, and it happened randomly, which frustrated me as each new piece of information was revealed.

The first thing I remembered was that moment when I vomited on the sidewalk. I knew it had happened, thanks to the bad taste in my mouth that morning. But, also, because I had a vision in my head of running out of the bar, scraping my knees. This was relevant to my mind because of the bandaids I caught sight of in the morning.

Oliver rushing to my aid? His whispered sweet nothings? I didn’t know about any of that until we had landed in Italy.

The plane ride had been brutal. I felt sick the entire time, and when we landed, I had to race off to the bathroom to empty my stomach. When I met up with our group, back by our gate, Ronnie had a fresh water bottle and package of pretzels ready for me.

“Thanks, mom,” I joked, wrapping my pillow back around my neck before taking the refreshments from her.

“Sure thing, peaches,” she rolled her eyes.

We all began moving, as a group, towards baggage claim. I fell in step beside Ronnie, lazily chewing on the pretzels. They were helping with the nausea.

“You remember your brother’s awful Mario impression?” Ronnie chuckled to herself, gaze distant as she thought about it.

“Oh, God,” I cringed as the scene played out in my head. ‘Why did he do that? What was that? Why did we let him go on for so long?”

“I don’t even know,” Ronnie pressed a hand to her lips as we shared a loud laugh.

Sam looked over his shoulder at the sound, slowing his feet, which were matching Max’s pace, to come to the other side of Ronnie. “What’s so funny?”

“Why are you so nosey?” I scrunched my nose, speaking through a pretzel that was between my lips.

“You’re in public, laughing like a hyena. I’m allowed to be nosey.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, and he returned the expression. “You’re a dick hungover,” I commented.

Ronnie nodded slowly, “Yeah, I’m not gonna disagree with her on that one.”

“Well, this is coming from the girl who once tore apart my favorite teddy bear because she didn’t get to have Cheerios for breakfast,” Sam leaned into Ronnie, speaking low, as if passing a secret, even though he glared at me and knew I could hear him.

I gaped at him, offended by him bringing up something that happened twenty years ago. “Dude, you literally ate the last bowl without asking. And you knew I wanted Cheerios that morning. I literally asked you to save me some! You ate a bowl bigger than my head!”

“Now, that’s impossible,” Sam scoffed, eyeing my cranium snarkily.

My jaw dropped more, if at all possible. I threw a pretzel at him, “Fuck you. You know I’m insecure about the size of my head!”

Ronnie, snickering to herself, took a chance to tease. She set a hand on my arm, smirking at Sam, “S’okay, Daisy. Your brother’s just mad you have a big head because-” she pointed at his crotch, “his is small.”

Adam, Cy, and Max heard this and, harmoniously with Ronnie, burst out into laughter. Max slammed a hand down onto Sam’s shoulder, “Ouch, dude! That’s gotta hurt!”

I giggled, glancing around the boys. My eyes ghosted over Oliver, whose back was facing me as we walked. His head was down. Ronnie’s words echoed in my memory, a distant reverberation that flashed images behind my eyes.

“It’s okay, Daisy. You’ll be okay.”

I touched my neck, nearly feeling Oliver’s fingers ghosting there, but it was just a gust of wind pushing through the automatic doors we were walking out of. The way he had touched me, the way he pulled my hair from my sweaty face, bunched it up in fist. It was so…sweet. Caring.

How was this dull man capable of such kindness if he hated me so much?

-

The time change in Italy, luckily, didn’t throw me off too badly. The next morning, I woke, feeling refreshed and no longer hungover. It was nice to not feel like a walking corpse, like I had all of yesterday.

We were here in Florence for the next week, and next week we would be in Rome. I spent the first two days wandering the streets. Ronnie and Sam would be meeting me for dinner later that evening, on the second day, so I didn’t get involved in anything too seriously. They didn’t have as much to do at the venue because things had gone so well the day before. Tomorrow, I had plans to take a tour group, like I had back in England, to catch the best sights of the city more easily.

I spent the afternoon perusing antique shops, book stores. It was interesting, to blend into the background of stranger’s stories, to not hear my mother tongue for hours at a time. I definitely had culture shock sometimes, but I also felt at peace, both humbled and relaxed by the experience.

That didn’t stop my mind from racing.

Oliver consumed all my thoughts. His hushed comfort replayed through my mind like a skipping record, white noise beneath the mangled languages filling the space around me.

The more I thought about him, his touch, his words, the tighter my stomach got. I felt like I could choke up broken wings from the butterflies that had taken up a village in my stomach. neI dreaded breakfast the next morning, knowing that it meant I’d have to look him in the eye. While he avoided me, cursed my presence, I felt myself drawn to him as every second drug past.

I tried to focus on the present moment, the gorgeous shops I was perusing, the delicious food samples offered to me nearly every two feet. What snapped me out of my racing thoughts, fully, was the sound of my phone ringing in my pocket.

I balanced my bags in one hand and dug through my purse until I found the device. I usually kept the sound off, but being that I was alone, in the middle of a foreign country, I figured it would be a good idea to have it on.

A picture of Sam and I covered my screen and his contact name- Sam Ham- was in a white font above it. I was somewhat confused, considering he was supposed to be at rehearsals right now. They had another hour before he and Ronnie would join me for our later lunch.

“Hello?” I pressed the phone between my shoulder and ear, tucking myself into the corner of the antique shop, so as not to disturb others.

“Daz, hi,” Sam breathed out. I struggled to hear him at first, as above his voice was music, loud music, accompanied by singing. Cymbals crashed, a guitar riffed, and…Oliver was singing.

I’d heard it before, on Spotify, on pre recorded tracks that Sam had shown me. Of course, I’d never really listened to it, prejudiced with my own taste of music. Hearing it like this, live, hearing the soul Oliver fueled his lyrics with…it sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t understand what he was singing, but I knew it was good. He was incredibly talented.

He’s a dick, I tried to remind myself.

“What’s up?” I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to focus on Sam, and Sam only.

He seemed to leave the room that had been housing the loud music, tone more clear as a door shut behind him. “Hey, sorry. Um…there’s some shit going on with the speakers and wires. Me and Ronnie won’t be getting out of here on time. I’m so sorry.”

“No, that’s okay!” I shook my head, “Don’t even apologize. You can’t control that.”

“I know, I just feel bad,” Sam huffed, before continuing, “Cause I need to ask a favor, too.”

I stepped to the side as a group of customers moved past me, whispering apologies. “I’m- sorry, guys- scusa- sorry, um- I’m not busy. What do you need?”

“If we ordered food from somewhere, could you go pick it up and bring it to us? I’ll cover you,” he offered.

“No, of course. Just text me the address,” I reassured him. “And I’ll cover myself. You got me the other night, anyways.”

“What? When?”

“At the restaurant? You covered-”

“Sam! Can you please tune ii’s drums again? Something’s not fucking working!”

“One minute!” Sam seemed to hold the phone away from his mouth as he spoke, which I was grateful for. “Gotta go, Daz. I’ll send you the place. Text me your order and I’ll let you know the details.”

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you. Bye-”

He cut himself off, three beeps resounding, signifying that he had hung up. Immediately, I received a text with the name of the restaurant. I quickly found something easy on the menu and replied. While I waited for him to give me the information regarding the order, I decided to head back to the hotel. I needed to drop off my shopping bags and honestly fix my hair.

Because I would be seeing Oliver.

And, despite myself, my own self interest and boundaries, I wanted to look good for him. So what if he hated me- he thought I was hot. And, I’d break my own back to just get him to look at me for one single, fleeting moment.

-

Two hours later, I was flashing my ID to the venue’s security, being led through the entrance by a worker, and wound up standing just inside the pit, right where the floor dipped down. The music was even louder in person, yet I could hear it more clearly. Oliver wasn’t on stage, nor anywhere to be seen, which I was grateful for. I needed just another moment to prepare myself to see him.

I couldn’t help but smile at Max, who was spinning around the stage, his large bass whipping through the air, effortlessly. He wore casual clothing, a sight I was used to, but had his stage mask pulled down over his face. There was a small bump from his bun, which I chuckled at seeing.

Adam and Cy were dressed similarly, with those same masks on, each fit with their own instruments. They seemed to be rehearsing a song, focused on the sound mix and not the singing, considering Oliver wasn’t with them. After a minute or so of me standing there, watching them, actually enjoying the music I was hearing, the song ended.

Sam walked out onto stage, a headset down over his curly hair, a clipboard in hand, “That was good, guys. Sounds better. Soon as Daisy gets here, we’ll break. Wanna go from the top? I’ll grab Oli-”

“Daisy!” Max, who had been fiddling with the strings on his bass, glanced up when Sam mentioned me. He spotted me, towards the back of the room, shifting the bags in my hands.

I lifted the food up in a sort of greeting, grinning as everyone looked to me, “Hey, guys!”

“Oh, thank God,” Sam wasted no time in taking off his headset, tossing it and the clipboard onto an amp next to him.

Max set his bass down, too, joining Sam as he b-lined for the stairs. Sam took a bag from my left hand and Max took the other, greeting me with kind thank-you’s and a hug from the taller man. “We’re so happy you’re here,” Max wrapped an arm around my shoulders, guiding me as we followed after Sam.

I adjusted my slipping purse strap, giggling slightly, “Really?”

“We actually are,” Adam spoke up as we bounded up the stairs.

I didn’t know where we were going, but the guys headed backstage, Cy joining in our group. Max added, “Today has been a fucking shitshow. You’re, like, a ray of sunshine in the rain, love.”

“Oh,” I grinned with a blush eating at my cheeks, “Well, then, I’m happy to be here.”

I couldn’t see much of the band’s expressions behind their masks, but I knew their words were true. Each of their pairs of eyes shone joy, lit up like fireworks.

We continued our short conversation until we reached a back room, where Sam held the door open for all of us while we piled in. Max let go of me now, moving to unpack the take out bag on the counter. I guessed this was their dressing room, considering there were racks of clothes, stray bottles of paint laying about, and bags of theirs that I recognized sat at each of the four chairs pushed into the vanity.

I didn’t notice Oliver in the corner of the room, fiddling with a piano, and I didn’t even hear the notes he was playing. I was too busy helping Max, matching everyone up with their food order, giggling as the bassist poked my side.

“You want something to drink?” He asked me, moving to a mini-fridge in the corner of the room.

I set my own carton of food down on the counter beside Max’s, then followed him. I met eyes with Oliver- well, I met eyes with the blackened slits of his mask- nearly tripping over myself. My words stuttered out as the notes he keyed out came to my hearing.

Oliver wore black, fabric pants, black socks, and a black cloak, with white emblems on the elbows. His lips and the very edge of his nose were visible beneath his mask, and I noticed he was murmuring some melody to himself. I knew that he was looking at me because I could feel the burn of his dark eyes on my skin. I peeled my gaze away, feeling my face get hot.

And I noticed he was shirtless.

This image drew another memory from the trenches of my mind.

“Wanna keep staring at me or go to bed?”

I knew I had worn his hoodie to bed, but I hadn’t remembered that he took it off of his own back.

What I replied with, what he proceeded to say afterwards- these were all blanks, holes in my memory. But, I knew, now, that he had literally given me the shirt off his back.

I looked to the slits of his mask, again, brows furrowed, jaw slack. Oliver quickly dipped his head, focused on the piano that sat on the stand before him. Max peered over his shoulder, crouched down in front of the mini-fridge. “Love? Daisy? Drink?”

I moved my head from side to side, slowly, peeling myself from my trance. I glanced down at Max, breathing deeply, shutting my slack chin. “Uh…yeah. Yeah, please. Just- water. Thanks.”

I noticed Max flicker his eyes between me and Oliver, blond brows furrowing slightly. “Oh…kay. Here you go.”

I reached out and took the bottle from him. Turning on my heel, I peeled myself away from the corner of the room, finding myself back at my food quickly. Max joined me, carrying his own bottle. He examined me, almost curiously, as I turned to face him. “What?”

“No, nothing,” he cracked open his bottle and took a sip, still watching me.

‘Seriously, what?” I grew impatient and snapped the words, though quietly, unwilling to draw attention.

Max held up a defensive hand, “Nothing. Sorry. Just…” Max glanced over his shoulder, to Oliver. I followed his line of vision, face heating up. “Be careful.”

Be careful.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

-

I’d rushed home after eating with everyone yesterday, avoiding Max, who had asked me to step outside with him after we tossed our trash away. I claimed I had a headache and needed to go lay down. Instead, I spent the evening in the hotel pool, resisting the urge to drown my stupid self in the water.

I didn’t even join the group for dinner, not even when Sam called my phone and asked where I was. He said he didn’t see me in our room. I lied and said that I’d gone out. Afraid they’d find me swimming, I snuck up to our room, changed, and made true of my words. I went to some stupid dive bar, bought tickets to see some local comedian. Some of his set was in Italian, but some in English, so I enjoyed myself as best as possible.

In the morning, I didn’t even join everyone for breakfast. I didn’t want to take any chances of seeing Oliver, nor Max, now that he knew of this stupid fucking crush I had. I waited until Sam left, then got up, showering, dressing and preparing myself to be gone all day.

I had my tour group today, so I texted Sam and told him not to wait up for me later. I grabbed breakfast at some local cafe I’d yet to try before making it to the bus. I was accompanied by some older English ladies and a group of Australian bachelorettes. We had a lot of fun together, not weighed down by the presence of any men. By the end of the day, I’d made a few friends, gained new contacts in my phone, and had a load of photos I needed to go through.

It was dark when I returned to the hotel. I sped past by the dining room, hoping everyone couldn’t see me b-lining for the elevator. Just when I thought I was in the clear, as the steel doors began to slide shut, someone stuck their hand through the partition. The elevator dinged as the doors peeled back open.

I frowned, shifting on my feet, wrapping my arms around my stomach, as Max stepped inside. He shot me a soft smile, stepping in beside me. “Hey, love. How was your tour?”

I shrugged and avoided his eye contact. Max sighed, facing the doors, as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Three floors passed by on the little digital screen before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry for giving you such a cryptic message yesterday-”

“Listen,” I interrupted him, a gross taste in my mouth, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I’m just trying to- ignore it, alright? It’s stupid and I don’t want to deal with it because I feel like it’ll just cause drama, yeah? Can we just…act like it never happened?”

I finally looked Max in the eye, shoulders tensed, hopeful that he would agree.

“That’s a good idea,” he nodded slowly.

“Really?”

Max gave a pathetic chuckle, “Really. I said be careful because I thought you were going to pursue something with him. And, Daisy, I just think- you’re too good for him. I love Oliver. He’s one of my best mates, but- he’s a wreck. He doesn’t have his life together. He’s so involved in his music, and this band, and he just doesn’t make time for anything else. Not even himself.”

‘That’s kind of sad,” I scrunched my nose, “have you talked to him about having healthier coping mechanisms?”

“Believe me,” Max waved me off, “we have. He goes to therapy. So, that’s something. But, I think it’s still gonna take a while before he learns to balance his personal life and this…this insane amount of attention we’re all receiving. You deserve a lot more than that. You deserve goodness and light because that’s what you are. I won’t let you get yourself involved in a shitty situation with him.”

“I don’t even know what it is about him,” I brushed my hands down my sides, as if attempting to wipe myself clean of Oliver. “Just…he’s an asshole to me-”

“I know,” Max rolled his eyes, “I’ve been talking to him about that, too.”

“Thanks,” I chuckled. Then, I sighed, and continued, “I just keep getting these flashbacks from the other night, when I was drunk. He was being…so kind to me. And, I’m a stupid fucking idiot. I get attached to people easily. So, my brain is just- fucked. I don’t want to think about him like this, but…”

“It’s okay,” Max lay a hand on my arm, drawing my gaze to his. It calmed me a bit, the soothingness of his stormy blue eyes. “We’ve just gotta get you laid. I promise that you’ll forget about him in an instant.

I bit my lip, giggling at his eyes, “You’re probably right. How about next week? I’ll download a dating app. You make sure I go out with somebody, yeah?”

“Now, that I can do,” Max tugged me into his side and leaned his cheek against my head. I wrapped my arms around his waist, comforted in his hug. “I bet these Italian boys will

The elevator doors opened again. I stepped out, turning to Max, who held the doors open, to say, “I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow, okay?”

He reached out a hand, booped my nose, “Okay, darling.”

“It’s complicated, darling…We can have this conversation when you’re sober. Can we do that, darling?”

Fuck.

-

I couldn’t sleep.

There was still something missing, I just knew it. One more line from Oliver, one more slurred response from me. But, from what I had, from what I had grappled at desperately with my shaking fingers, I knew things were not what they had seemed to be.

I rolled over in bed, trying not to make too much noise because I knew Sam was fast asleep- evident from the snores he elicited. But, I let a small huff pull from my throat, a frustration building up in my chest that made me want to cry. My pillow was warm on both sides, the room was stuffy, sweat was pooling on my neck. My mouth was dry and I couldn’t find a good position to lay in. I just wanted to go to bed!

But Oliver was haunting me like a ghost.

His words resounded in my head, over and over, singing like when I’d get a line from a song stuck up there. They teased me, knowing they knew everything that I didn’t.

After kicking the covers off of me and throwing a clenched fist against the bed, I decided it was best for me to just get up. I pulled sweatpants beneath my long t-shirt, shoveled my feet inside my slippers, and grabbed my purse and phone. I headed for the vending machine first, purchasing a bottle of water. I cracked it open as the elevator doors shut.

I examined the buttons laid out before me. I could go down to the lobby, see if the bar was still open. But, drinking sounded disgusting right now. It would probably make me do something stupid, anyways. The roof was tempting, too. I really wanted to go there. But, part of me worried that Oliver would be there.

Part of me hoped he would be, too.

Before I knew it, the doors were opening to the roof. There was another pool up here, one I didn’t know about. Given the time- 1 am- there weren’t any guests swimming. I was going to take advantage of this newfound opportunity tomorrow, considering it was one of our last days in Florence.

I walked towards it, examining the crystal blue waters. I wanted to take a dip now, knowing it would clear my head. The shining moonlight and chlorine chemicals would force me to think more efficiently. I settled for sitting on the edge, sweatpant legs tugged up enough that I could sink my feet in.

I shuffled my playlist, some Taylor Swift song playing faintly beneath the sounds of the city beneath me. Car horns beeped, music poured from open dive-bar doorways, crowds of people rowdied down the streets. As noisy as it was, with the pool pump humming alongside the music of the night, it was peaceful.

I became mindful of my own thoughts, tracking them down, lassoing them up, so I could sift through them and organize everything.

Oliver had told me it was complicated. What was complicated? What had he wanted to speak about later? What conversation did he want to have with me, sober? From everything else I remembered- his tearing words as he shed his hoodie, his lingering touch on my body, his sweet use of the word darling- there was a tension between us that night. Was that what he wanted to discuss? Was that what was complicated?

I didn’t have much peace and quiet to myself because, soon after I sat down, the elevator doors opened. I quickly stood from the pool, shoving my cuffed pants down, exiting out of the Spotify app. I don’t know why the position I had been in felt so intimate, but I didn’t want this stranger to intrude on it.

Not that it was a stranger.

I should have known Oliver would come up here.

I crossed my arms over my chest as a breeze blew through the roof. Too, I wanted to take a defensive stance against him. He looked up when he stepped out of the elevator, cigarette already lit upon his lips.

“Oh,” he took it between his fingers, smoke pouring from his puffed cheeks. “Sorry-”

He tossed the butt to the concrete ground of the roof, stomping it out with the toe of his black Converse. “Didn’t know you’d be up here.”

Okay, that was something, too. He chose not to smoke around me. That was courteous…that was the man who had given me the shirt off his back.

I tilted my head, looking up at him as he moved closer. Why was that when we were alone, on some roof, or behind the doors of his hotel room, he felt like he could speak to me? I wanted to ask, but I wasn’t that bold.

Instead, I said, “Thanks.”

Oliver moved past me, approaching a set of chairs positioned towards the farthest wall of the roof. He sat down, stretching his legs out onto the ledge above. He leaned back in his chair and flipped his hood atop his hair. I watched him from where I stood, unsure of what I was to do. Should I sit back down on the edge of the pool, continue to ruminate over the very man now sharing the air with me?

He answered the question for me, peering over his shoulder before waving a hand, “You can come sit.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to.

But, I guess, my body did. Because I found myself pulling my legs to my chest, sat on the chair beside him, following his gaze to the city before us.

We didn’t say anything to each other for a while. To be honest, my mind had gone quiet. While my meditation on the side of the pool had been peaceful, this…this was different. This was soothing, tranquil, to just listen to his soft breathing, to feel his presence just beside me.

Eventually, though, Oliver surprisingly spoke up. I felt him look at me, but I kept my chin balanced on my knee, kept my eyes on the streetlights below. “You don’t remember anything?”

It sounded hopeful, which only fed my suspicion that something happened between us the other evening that was far from friendly, far from something he could just write off.

I chewed on my bottom lip, words choking in my throat. “Not really.”

Oliver examined me for a few moments, then hummed, “Okay.”

Just as I turned my head to see him, he moved his eyes to the city. I spoke softly, timid, “Is there something I should be remembering?”

We finally met eyes. Oliver looked taken aback to see that I was staring at him. He scratched his neck, seemingly nervously, and shrugged softly. “Not really,” he echoed my words.

I squinted slightly. “Okay.”

At the same time, we both looked back at the view.

I focused on his breathing again, listening for dips, breaks in the air he pulled in and out of his lungs, hoping I could read into his rhythm enough to find answers. He seemed focused, too, dark brows furrowed slightly.

I guess we were both thinking similarly because, at the same time, we turned to each other and began again. I started with, “Are you sure-?”

Meanwhile, he said, “You don’t remember-? Oh, go ahead.”

“No, you go,” I shifted in my seat.

Oliver licked his pink lips, glancing to his feet, “I was just gonna say…you don’t remember coming back to the hotel?”

I searched his pupils as I responded- lied, “Not really…you’re sure there’s nothing you want to…to tell me? Something important I should be remembering?”

“I don’t think so,” he quickly peeled his gaze away.

“Why did you tell me to come sit with you?” I murmured, the words slipping before I could stop them.

Oliver sighed, “I don’t know. Thought it would be nice. Like when we were in London-”

“Like when we were in London and you proceeded to pretend like we never did this? Like when we were in London and you kept interrupting me, so I couldn’t tell everyone we had been up on the roof together?”

“Yeah, like that,” he shrugged.

I scoffed, shaking my head at his passiveness. Impulsively, I decided to stand, decided to just not care like he seemingly did, “I’m gonna go to bed.”

I made for the elevator, hearing a scuffle behind me as Oliver must have stood to follow. I hit the button a few times in the hopes that I could escape inside the steel doors before he could catch up. I peered over my shoulder and saw that he was just watching me.

I shook my head again, facing the elevator with squared shoulders. Then, his footsteps began moving closer. I reached out a shaking hand, thumb punching against the button, rapidly.

“Daisy,” he called out, just a few feet behind me.

The doors opened, I shot inside. I pressed my floor number just as Oliver reached the elevator. He slipped inside while the doors slid closed. I huffed, tilting my head up to stare frustratingly at the ceiling. He watched me.

“Daisy,” he spoke, softly, “I need you to be honest with me. What do you remember?”

“Oh, cause you’re such a conscientious person yourself!” I threw a hand up and it smacked against my outer thigh. I just kept shaking my head.

Oliver ran a hand through his hair, knocking his hood off. “I really don’t think we’re on the same page right now, Daisy. Please, if we can just talk about this, if you could just tell me what you remember.”

“If I lay down next to you, I don’t think I could keep my hands to myself.”

I stared blankly at Oliver as my head rushed.

He continued with the belief that he now had my full attention, hands braced between us, “I want to figure this out, okay?”

“I do want you.”

“Oliver,” I frowned, pleading eyes burning through him. “I don’t…I can’t play this game with you.”

“What- what game?” he lay his arms at his sides, shoulders slackening. “Daisy, I’m confused.”

“So am I, Oliver. I’m so…you’re fucking with my head.”

“What do you remember?”

“It doesn’t matter, Oliver,” I waved him off. Then, I brushed hair behind my ears, shaking fingers rubbing my neck nervously. “I just don’t want to do this with you. Max…I know Max is right. I should listen to him.”

“What? What did Max say to you? Daisy, please-”

The elevator doors opened, revealing our floor. I glanced between him and the opening, a promising escape from all of this, at least for now.

Oliver seemed to beg me, with his dark eyes, to stay. But, like always, he just didn’t say anything. So, I smiled sadly at him, lips tight, arms wrapped securely around my stomach. And I left him in the elevator.

I made it back to Sam and I’s room, quietly guiding the door shut behind me. I kicked off my slippers and turned into the bathroom. I needed to splash some cold water on my face. However, before I could close the door, a soft knock sounded from the hallway. I rested my hand against the doorknob, holding my breath, as I stared towards the noise.

I knew who it was. I knew what he wanted.

If I was as smart as I thought I was, as protective of my boundaries and my peace, I just wouldn’t answer.

But, as much as I hated to admit, I wanted him, too. I wanted him like a flower wants the sun, thirsty and impoverished. Ever-reaching, fingers stretched out, dragging through the stale air for just a spot of light.

So, I opened the door. I let him burn me with that distant gaze, let him speak my name like a whispered prayer, let him take my cheek and hip in his hands, let him tug me out into the hallway, and I let him kiss me like a solar flare, explosive and scarring.

[conarcoin]

ok this was a shower thought but like. do you guys ever think about how weirdly unnuanced the discourse surrounding shipping in mcyt spaces has been for ages until fairly recently (and even now to an extent)

like i feel like it would be common sense to assume that when ccs talk about just. "shipping", they're usually thinking of the people who write fanfics about them and their real life friends, theorize about their relationships, and spam in their chats/donations/comments... rather than someone drawing their fake minecraft skins holding hands.

to the point where most of the time when elaborated on, the ccs almost always SAY that the real life stuff is their issue and not the fake minecraft stuff because the fake minecraft stuff doesn't matter and isn't real.

the issue with irl shipping always stemmed from people who would harass ccs about it. that isn't... an element in shipping fake little minecraft guys. because nobody there wants the people behind the screen to get together.

like. i feel very odd still that even back in 2019 jschlatt specifically said on stream when asked about shipping that he didn't like people "writing stuff that would be inappropriate in an irl context", at a point in time where actual genuine irl shipping and harassment and spam over such was a huge problem, and that that part was completely cut out from how people in the fandom describe the clip.

and now that exact clip is still used to this day to argue over shit like whether it's okay to write fanfiction of schlatt's dsmp character being romantically involved with a character he was canonically engaged to (c!quackity). like that is just insane to me

[winged-self-indulgence]

No Point in Running (STNAF)

Little fic for @stnaf-vn , a yandere VN. Hopefully I got Friend's personality down okay. Minors DNI. Get off my lawn! For context, this fic takes place after Day 1. Enjoy!

The bar crowd is thin this evening, a perk of coming in on a Tuesday evening instead of a Friday night. You’d managed to finagle a day off work after picking up one too many shifts for a co-worker, and Friend pretty much made his own hours, so you’d invited him out for drinks. It was the least you could do after ghosting him all weekend.

No, you correct yourself sternly, even as you fiddled nervously with the cork coaster resting on the bar table. You hadn’t ghosted him. That would be super rude, and mean, and extremely immature of you. You had just…needed a little bit of space. He understood that. You’d texted him about it and Friend hadn’t seemed that upset.

Of course, he wouldn’t. He was your best friend! You’d known each other for nearly forever! Just because you’d nearly hooked up on your couch one night, riding high on endorphins of requited love, only to wake up feeling like someone had just poured ice-cold water down the back of your shirt because oh god you almost had sex with your super hot childhood best friend oh shit and then hid in the bathroom like a dumbass until he’d left…Friend wouldn’t hold that against you…right?

Right?

The thoughts flee your mind when you glance back at the door for the fifth time in half as many minutes and perk up when you spot Friend walking into the bar. As always, his gleaming eyes lock on you instantly, and he begins to approach. A bit redundantly, you lift your hand and wave.

"Hi, I was waiting for you!"

"You're such a sweetheart,” Friend responds, hugging you a tad too tightly for comfort.

Oof, so he was upset. You let him squeeze you, inhaling the warm scent of his skin and hair where it brushes against yours and makes you dizzy with the memory of his naked skin against yours. You want to pull away, to apologize for hurting him, but before you can even say a single word Friend had already released you and settled next to you at the bar.

“Speaking of, I’ve got a surprise for you," he grinned.

“A surprise?” You echo, watching bemusedly as he reached down and pulled a small paper-wrapped box out from behind his back. “It’s not my birthday. You know it’s not my birthday. Or at least I hope you know when my birthday is-”

“Obviously I know when your birthday is,” Friend interrupted, rolling his eyes as he offered it to you. “Jeez, give a guy a little credit sweetheart! Just open it and tell me what you think.”

Partly suspicious, but mostly excited, you rip apart the paper to uncover a small wooden box. Opening it reveals a brass vintage locket, polished to a mirror shine. A clasp on the side pops the hinges, and you almost tear up at the pictures inside.

Friend is rubbing the back of his head, eyes on the top shelf as though the bottles of liquor were the most fascinating things in the room. “I repaired and restored it to how I imagine it would have looked years ago. Figured you might like to have it. It seemed just right for you."

"Aw, Friend, you spoil me!" You take the locket out and admire it, still cooing over the tiny picture of you and Friend making stupid faces on either side. The moon softens into something honeylike and sticky-sweet, and you immediately feel that flicker of inexplainable panic.

Abort. ABORT.

"You sap,” you force a casual laugh that wouldn’t have fooled a five year old, let alone your best Friend. “Are you trying to butter me up for something?"

"Maybe," he grins at you. His tone shifts until it resembles that of a child asking for a piece of candy. "I have a favour to ask. My dearest sweetheart, may I see you put it on?"

As always, his teasing puts you at ease, and you can’t help but laugh. "Only if you help me with the clips," you reply and turn around, putting your back is to him. The silver necklace settles around your neck, cold but quickly warming up the moment it made contact with your heated throat.

Friend carefully secures the locket of silver chain around your neck. As he lets go of the locket, you feel his warm hand resting against your skin. It’s only for a second, maybe less, and yet the brief touch makes you shiver in your seat.

"There. Perfect," he murmurs, spinning your seat back around so he can admire the way the brass pendant lies in the centre of your chest, dangling right above your heart. “I knew it would suit ya.”

"Thank you, Friend," you give him a fond smile, reaching up to play with the oval weight. "Still, don't you ever get tired of buying me stuff though? I mean, I barely know where to put all the stuffed toys you've gotten me."

Friend laughs, leaning back in his seat. "Is that all you think I do, buy you stuff? I just get you things that remind me of you. Nothing wild, just all sentimental things."

“Right,” you roll your eyes playfully. “And this is pure sentiment? Buying and fixing up Victorian era brassware for me?

Not answering immediately, Friend instead reaches his hand out to touch the locket around your neck. "You like it? It's a real antique, you know. Not your typical locket. Just thought you deserve something special, that’s all."

And of course, he needed something you wouldn’t want to take off. An earring was far too small and an actual ring would have frightened you off entirely (not that he would have let you go far) but Friend couldn’t afford to lose you. Preparations were still being made, but until everything had been finalized he couldn’t afford to lose sight of you for a minute.

Friend smiles sweetly at you, satisfaction oozing through his body as he watches you coo over his gift. In his pocket, the GPS app buzzes with new, up-to-date coordinates.

You would understand. He loves you so, so much, and one day you would see that there was no reason to run. That there was no point in running. All you had to do was say yes.

[soliloquent-stark]

If you get this, answer w/ three random facts two truths and a lie!about yourself and send it to or tag five others. Anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog! 😛

answering this because you are the og creator of this version of the challenge 😎 but i was also tagged/sent this by @mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea @meidui @sunnysideprincess @heartsandmuses 💗✨

two truths and a lie:

1. i never get ads on instagram (or facebook, though i don't really use that). i never have, and seemingly never will; in stories, on feed, on reels, nowhere. i don't know the reason for this, and often people don't believe me, and some take my phone to show me i am just so used to ads i can't discern them from regular posts. they're shocked every time.

2. when i was in uni, a filming crew from the local branch of the national tv channel came in and asked if they could shoot some b roll of our class for a story about our major — for context, my branch had been the most sought-after that year with the lowest acceptance rate in the entire country. later, i get a message that someone saw me and my best friend on the national news, on a segment about high academic dropping out rates and special classes that some university are organising to encourage students to graduate. i had to reassure the person who sent me the clip that i had no intention of dropping out.

3. i was born with one and a half extra teeth, which caused some problems growing up. they fell out when i was 16 and for some time i was embarrassed to speak or exist in public because i just had a hole where my right canine should be; when we were looking into options for getting an implant, the x-ray showed yet another tooth was coming out in that spot, and somehow through pure luck i ended up with okay teeth and no need for aligners.

write your answers below and i will reveal my truth... eventually!

tagging @frankthesnek @glacier-shrimp @carsonian @ishipallthings @persephonesfill @iam93percentstardust @laidraws and anyone else who wants to do it, you can say i tagged you!

[riddle-me-ri]

Omg I LOVED your recent Jervis fic!

If it’s ok, can I have the same prompt but with BTAS John and a gn reader pls?

A/N: sure thing anon! for context of the request, this is based on my BTAS Jervis fic; Cover Up, in which Jervis is trying to hide his blushing and growing boner...so here's that set-up with BTAS Jon! Also for added context, reader and Jon are still professors at Gotham University. And apologies again for the awkward ending. I didn't know how to make it end lol

Content Warning: mildly suggestive material (boners and physical closeness) but nothing explicit

Word Count: 854

BTAS Scarecrow x Reader - Accidental Contact

Sharing may be caring, but sometimes it is kind of awkward. 

Especially sharing a laboratory with another professor. Especially if said professor was one you may or may not have a crush on. 

Which was the exact issue Jonathan was experiencing. 

If it were any other professor or faculty he didn't mind asking them to leave if he deemed it necessary. Jon didn't particularly mind if he came off rude or crass to others but he did when it came to you. 

Jonathan didn't mind sharing the space, not just because of any sort of affection, mind you…you were respectful, quiet, and kept to yourself. Never pestering him, disturbing him…but you were quite the distraction. 

"Umm, Professor Crane?" 

Despite how soft and sweet your voice is it still jumped him out of his reverie. 

He was hunched over the desk diagonal from you, tinkering away with chemicals in his own chemistry set he often brought with him. 

"Y-yes what, what is it?" He asked after gulping some air. 

"I hate to bother you but, would you mind helping me look over this formula? I'm…afraid I'm getting sort of cross eyed." You chuckle nervously as you rubbed your arm. 

Anybody else he would have said no. 

Anybody else he would leave with his eyes rolling, scoffing at them. 

Nobody was worth his time…

"O-Of course–I mean I wouldn't mind at all." 

He should have said no had he known what was to come. 

Jonathan got up from his seat and rounded the desks and walked up behind you. He didn't mean to get right behind you, but he wasn't thinking all that clearly. 

Also at the time the idea of getting closer to you was…exhilarating. 

"Oh thank you, Professor! So I'm working on this new assignment for the students but I'm trying to get to…" 

As you explained your objective, Jon tried desperately to pay attention. 

He saw your equations and directions written in your notebook. He noticed the simple little error. 

He could feel your warmth radiating from your skin. 

Your fresh and light body wash softly filled his nostrils as his head loomed past your shoulder to look down closer to the paper he could already see. 

Your soft rhythmic breathing that he tried to match his own to.

Jonathan could feel heat rise to his cheeks and his blood coursing lower causing something else to rise. 

"Umm…Professor Crane? Are you okay?" You turned your head over your shoulder and noticed the professor growing red in the face. 

Jonathan shook his head, once again trying to clear the lovestruck haze that fell over him. Yet his flushed cheeks and bulge remained. 

"Um…erm…yes I'm–I'm fine.." He quickly stood back a step. 

"Are you sure? Your face is red.." You mentioned your voice heightened in concern. 

You were so considerate and oblivious…if you only knew that you were the cause of his flustered state. 

"I assure you. I'm fine.." Jonathan deftly clipped the sides of his lab coat to hopefully deter any attention from his growing erection. 

He cleared his throat before snatching the pen on the desk. "Um…you weren't entirely far off. These few numbers are off.." 

The light bulb went off in your head when he saw him write out the proper formula on another sheet of paper. 

Jonathan sighed to himself in relief. He got your attention off of him–

Until you abruptly wrapped your arms around his neck in a small grateful victory hug. 

"You're brilliant Professor Crane! Thank you so much!" 

After you said that you gasped and retracted your arms. "I-Uh-I am so sorry..I got excited." 

That's not the only thing. 

"Erm…I-I understand." Jonathan waved it off. He grabbed the seat at the desk next to yours to sit down as he felt himself get light headed. 

You took a glance at the watch above the laboratory door. 

"Oh wow! Look at how late it's gotten. I'm so sorry to keep you Professor and to take up your lab time…is there any way I can repay you?" 

"No, no that won't be necessary…" He waved his hand nonchalantly. "I'm just...eh…glad to help." 

"Well, if you change your mind I wouldn't be opposed to a coffee date one weekend." You offered with a soft smile. 

"Have a good evening Prof-" 

"Jonathan…y-you can call me Jonathan." He interjected. Jonathan wasn't sure where that came from, but he did long to hear you say his name and not just his title. 

You nod with a noticeably wider smile. "Jonathan…have a good evening…I'll see you tomorrow. And please reconsider my offer…goodbye." You waved before walking out the door, your shoes echoing down the hallway.

Jonathan waved slowly back before swiping his face up and down his face once you were gone. 

He wasn't sure whether he was exhausted from trying to prevent you from discovering his disheveled state or excited from the close proximity you shared earlier and the prospect of something more in the future. 

Jonathan sighed as he got up and began retrieving his own things.

Lab time is over, he has other…issues to attend to at the moment. 

[myobsessionsspace]

MUSE the concept album of LOVE

from the ‘rebirth’ new feelings of love/a crush

The ‘smeraldo garden marching band’ coming to tell the generations’ stories of love from young love to fan love

to taking the leap and asking that crush for a ‘slow dance’

to cementing the love in ‘be mine’

when that love ends and the process starts all over again ‘who’ will be the right one the forever one that the heart is searching for?

The constant love, the love that’s ‘closer than this’ BTS & ARMY.

**All the written below is from Weverse Magazine Interview with producers P Dogg & GHSTLOOP**

Muse

Pdogg: Happiness ultimately starts with love, but Jimin found it tricky to figure out how to talk about love (laughs) so we started to talk about how we could approach the topic of love in a fictional context. As I mentioned before, we came up with the idea to create a fictional band similar to what they did with Sgt. Pepper’s and talk about love that way.

Pdogg: The main image we had in mind while working on the album was Olivia Hussey, the star of Romeo and Juliet. We didn’t just watch her old clips, either—we looked at what she’s doing today and said, “Please, give us inspiration!” (laughs)

GHSTLOOP: We drew a lot of inspiration from her for the lyrics for the love songs “Slow Dance” and “Be Mine” especially. We would watch her movies and ask ourselves, “What would we say if we were in that scene?” That was our approach. Now that I think about it, it was only really the songs that materialized through that process that made it onto the album.

Rebirth

Pdogg: “Rebirth (Intro)” links MUSE to “Set Me Free Pt. 2,” working to show it’s a new chapter for Jimin. The lyrics build up the excitement in this bubbly way—like he’s carefully checking to see whether it’s okay to show how excited he is.

Interlude: Showtime

Then “Interlude: Showtime” starts and the true concept behind the album really opens up.

Smeraldo Garden Marching Band

Then “Smeraldo Garden Marching Band (feat. Loco)” ushers in the album’s concept. If you see it as a song that helps tell a truth that’s otherwise untold, then it’s like it’s being addressed to someone you love, but we also wanted to imply that it’s a message to fans through lines like the one that says “June 12.”

Pdogg: That wasn’t what we really had in mind. It’s like how the Beatles had the idea of becoming the fictional Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. We were looking for a key idea and said, Oh right, smeraldos. From the fictional flower smeraldo to the fictional Smeraldo Garden Marching Band—that’s where our concept came from: a band that tells “The Truth Untold” about love, just like what the flower symbolizes. The song “Truth Untold,” the idea for which originated with LOVE YOURSELF, is a sad song, but the Smeraldo Garden Marching Band puts a happy spin on it.

Slow Dance

“Slow Dance” (feat. Sofia Carson) is about how you can tell someone you’re interested in how you feel about them, which is why the title is “Slow Dance”: It’s about wanting to take your time getting to know one another.

Pdogg: Jimin’s vocals are sort of androgynous and have a fairly Western pop feel to them, so we thought it would be good if he collaborated with an artist from overseas, and A&R suggested Sofia Carson. We saw her in a movie where her character sings and I just went, “Wow!” She’s just a fabulous signer and their voices complement each other so well. Plus, she studied dance, so she’s got that in common with Jimin, making them a great match for potential performances. (laughs)

Be Mine

Then it goes into “Be Mine,” which takes the concept one step further, and is about an imaginary relationship.

Who

Which song gave you the most trouble, then?Pdogg: Maybe “Who”? That probably took us the longest. We tried so many different approaches before the song finally worked. We finally just decided to go to New York and work on it with Jimin there, and that’s what we did.

Our plan was to follow that song with the lead single and write it as a serenade, but Jimin was having trouble relating to it. He asked himself if he can ever really love someone, and that question led to the creation of “Who.” The album is about looking for some imaginary woman, but “Who” is about the reality of feeling lonely and melancholy, and asking yourself where the person for you is, which is why we made it the very last track.

GHSTLOOP: We sat down with Jon Bellion, who produced the song with us, and Jimin briefed us on everything. Jon had this huge whiteboard in his studio, and as Jimin explained everything to him, Jon latched onto what Jimin was saying, like, “Oh, so that’s what he’s looking for,” and wrote it all down. (laughs)

Pdogg: It was clear what Jimin wanted to do with “Who.” He was there with us the whole time, giving us his ideas all throughout. His previous album was designed to be deeply personal, but the new one is more abstract and isn’t strictly about Jimin alone. The whole thing’s also in line with what Millennials and Gen Z experience when they fall in love. The song also has English lyrics because it’s the kind of subject matter that people from all around the world can relate to, so we figured it’d make the most sense to just do it in English.

Closer Than This

And when it comes to writing fan songs, Jimin often has the clearest vision for what he wants to say. He writes down all the conversations and experiences he’s had with fans like he’s writing a letter. When I asked him what it all means, he explained how it’s about something that he did with the fans before and the imagery behind it. And we use that as the groundwork for the direction we take. For “Closer Than This,” we kept talking about looking at it like a BTS concert. That’s why the lyrics “tinge purple” are in there and why they’re all about shared memories that he and ARMY have. We were picturing the day when BTS would be all together again to see ARMY in concert when we wrote the part with the children’s choir.