#the best this fandom (and site) has to offer

[melannen]

How To Make Your Own Fanfiction Archive, In Just Ten Easy Steps

As the go-to "person who knows about AO3" for quite a few people who read fanfic but aren't really linked-in to wider fandom culture, I've fielded a lot of questions about how to do certain things on AO3 to which my best answer is "you should really start your own archive!" I think, in general, more fans starting their own small archives would be a net good for fandom. AO3 was never meant to be the only archive for all fandom, or even the main archive, and the more spread out and backed up we are the more resilient we are.

But of course I have to be reminded that a lot of fans these days don't really have any idea how little "you should start your own archive!" really involves. (Also, that I should practice what I preach.) So I am now making my own fanfiction archive, and writing up this post as I do it to tell people how to make theirs!

Go to https://neocities.org/ and sign up for an account. It only needs a username (which will also be your website address), password, and email. Pick a username that will be related to your archive's title!

Choose the free account option (if you ever need more than what the free account offers for a text-only archive, you should probably look into graduating from neocities.) This should take you to a menu of "how to make a website" tutorials. You should do them! They're useful skills. But let's get your archive running first.

Hit the big red Edit Site button, or open the menu under your username and select "Edit Site".

Select the "Index.html" file to edit. You're now in an HTML Editor. Congrats, you're a web developer c. 1999!

Find where it has text between the < title> tags. Delete the filler text, and put in the title of your new archive. This text will be what shows on the tab when people go to your archive.

Find where it has text between the < h1 > tags. This will be big header text at the top of your page. Put the title of your archive here again. If you have no experience with HTML, you should read over the other sample text. It covers the basic basics very well! Once you've done that, you can delete everything else between the < /h1> tag and the < /body> tag. Save your index.html file.

Get an HTML file for a fanfic you would like to add to your archive. If it's on AO3, you can use the html download option built into AO3. If you have it as a word processor/google docs file, you should have the option to save as an html file. Save that html file to your computer.

Go back to Edit Site on Neocities and go to "upload". Find the html file you saved and upload it. (You can also drag and drop files to upload.)

The file you uploaded should now be showing with your other neocities files. Right-click on the title and select "copy link".

Go in to edit index.html again. Under where you put your header text, type < br> < a href=" . Then paste in the link you copied. Then type "> Then put in the title of the fic. Then type < /a> . Then save the index page again when you're done. You can do this for every fanfic you have.

Congratulations! You now have your very own personal private fanfiction archive that you are 100% in charge of and make all the rules for. It's at least as good as half the ones I was reading on when I started reading fanfiction and will serve its function well as a way to let people read your fic. You can link to it from anywhere you want! (Including your AO3 profile.)

Blogpost version, with FAQs and discussion

Anyway, here's my beautiful new fanfiction archive made using this tutorial:

Melannen's Fanfiction Archive

(I am honestly way more disproportionately proud of finally making that than I expected to be. It's nice to have your own archive.)

If you make one, share it here ! I want to see!

#ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #fanfic archive #how-to #tumblr what are you doing to my angle brackets #why would you do that what's wrong with 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

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

[marveltrumpshate]

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[rqgnarok]

dial drunk - tommy miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show and video game)

wc: 2,703

warnings: alcoholism and mentions of alcohol abuse, drunk character, maybe PTSD? pre-outbreak. no use of specific pronouns. 

summary: tommy calls you in the middle of the night, hammered and asking for a favor.

inspired by noah kahan’s dial drunk. author’s note at the end.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Tommy knows the drill.

He’s been here enough times to recognize the officer pulling him over, asking after his wife and kids as he steps out of the truck on unsteady feet. He’s all Southern charm and pleasantries as he fails his breath test and is unable to walk in a straight line for the officer to see. 

“Come on, man,” he says, aiming for placating and pretty much landing it. He’s not his mama’s favorite for nothing, getting out of trouble Joel would’ve been grounded over when he was his age with big cow eyes and flimsy excuses. “Paperwork’s shit, right? Lemme make a call and someone will take me off your hands for the night.”

The officer tightens his mouth into a grimace, unconvinced.

“Look, if this gets nowhere then I’ll ride with you nice and quiet,” he bargains with as much honesty as one can convey when being the youngest boy in a nice Catholic Texan family. There aren’t better credentials than those when pleading your innocence. “I’ll even play it up in front of your boss to make you look good, yeah? Just one call, promise.”

Hook, line, and sinker. The officer’s shoulders drop a little and he’s offering his cell phone for Tommy to call. “One call. Then you’re done.”

“Yessir.”  

Tommy grins innocently as best as he can with double the legal limit of alcohol in his blood and a phone between his ear and shoulder. The man stands there with his arms crossed looking like he’d rather be anywhere but bringing his ass in for a DUI at two AM on a Wednesday.

“‘lo?” you call sleepily, finally picking up. Tommy doesn’t restrain his victorious grunt. “...Tommy?”

“Hey, sweets,” he slurs a little, clearing his throat. “Sorry for wakin’ you. I need a favor.”

“Tommy,” you say again, tired. If Tommy were any less drunk, he’d realize it’s not lack of sleep that has you sounding like that. He’s shitfaced and thinking about the monumental kick in the ass waiting for him at home when Joel realizes he hotwired and stole his truck to get a drink at the nearest bar. 

“I know, I know, listen,” he cuts you off before you can say anything else, sneaking a look at the officer’s crossed arms and disappointed stance. “You remember the way to the precinct, right? From last time?”

Last time, when Tommy got into a brawl outside a bar he was not supposed to be in, and accepted your worried fussing with barely concealed annoyance, gripping your wrists and taking your hands off his bruised face. You’d driven him to your place because he’d promised Joel to steer clear of trouble for at least a few months, and his breath still reeked of alcohol by the time you came to pick him up.  

You told him then you weren’t doing this again. But you always say that. And you always come when he calls.

Your moms had grown up together in Texas and were ecstatic about the fact that their two littlest ones would come into the world so close together. You and Tommy were inseparable because the universe had dictated it– and nothing could interfere between you. Not his dad dying when he and Joel were still too young, not Tommy having to repeat fifth grade and no longer sharing a classroom with you, not you going off to college and Tommy joining the army straight out of high school.

But then he came home. And he came home different.

The shit he’d seen overseas was nasty, but that’s not what drove him to drink himself stupid every night. At least that’s what he thinks. Soon his habits began seeing the light of day; vodka mixed in his morning coffee and hidden in a water bottle during lunch with the boys at the construction site. Life became a blur when he was drinking and an agonizingly slow nightmare when he wasn’t.

Joel wasn’t the first to notice but he’d been the first to say something about it. Next time you come to my home reeking of a cheap ass bar in front of my kid I’m kicking your ass out. I’m serious, Tommy. This shit has to stop. 

And Tommy had believed him. So he turned to the next person he knew that would do anything for him. You came home from college despite your dreams to outrun this town, and soon it was your number he had memorized even when his brain called it quits and left him alone in his blackouts.

“I do,” you say, and Tommy’s already thinking about sleeping it off on your sorry excuse of a couch. It’s a slow night, only a couple of drunken bums sleeping off their hangovers in a quaint police station in fucking Arlington, Texas. But Tommy would take your couch any day, even if it means fucking up his back for the rest of the week. “But I’m not coming to get you, Tommy. Call Joel.”

“Sweetheart,” he croons into the phone, low and mellow like he’d talk to pretty girls at parties in high school. The same ones you’d go to only because he begged you to come with, acting like a jealous boyfriend when someone wouldn’t leave you alone. “Please. I’ll pay you back, you know I’m good for it.”

He’d put a possessive arm around your waist, standing behind you and smiling icily at whoever was pestering you. We got a problem here?

There’s silence at the other side of the line, sheets rustling. Tommy can picture you sitting up, phone to your ear, biting the inside of your cheek nervously. 

More like Joel is, but hey. He took the big brother act to heart the second Tommy was born. He’s been bailing him out of shit as long as Tommy’s been alive, why would tonight be any different?

Joel, who’s always told him, first jokingly and then not so much, that you were too good for Tommy. Too smart, too kind, with too much integrity for someone like his little brother. 

The older Miller had taken a liking to you pretty soon after Tommy did; wiping the dirt off scraped knees and your tears from chubby child cheeks after placing a bandaid with gentle, unsure fingers. Giving you a ride when you insisted on walking home, leaving the back door open for you whenever being home got too rough for you. 

That man knew you’d be the best thing to ever happen to his brother in his entire life. Too bad the idiot didn’t realize it, pushing your limits until you couldn’t take it any longer. 

“I’m not bailing you out of jail, Tommy,” you sigh, annoyance creeping over the hesitation in your tone. You were never good at saying no to him, even when you were both in diapers and Tommy wanted your dinosaur plushie so bad he threw a tantrum until his mom took him in her arms. “When I said last time was the last time, I meant it. I’m sick of this shit.”

“Come on,” he scoffs, saying your name in a way he knows you hate, like you’re the one being unreasonable. “I’ll give you a kiss and everything. You still like that, don’t you?”

“Fuck you,” you snap on the other side of the line. He knows you well enough to know what buttons to push. Reminding you of your first kiss is a trick he’s never, never pulled on you before, though. “Don’t fucking say that, don’t use that against me.”

You’d been seventeen and without a date to the prom. The guy you were thinking about asking had laughed in your face when you offhandedly mentioned going together and Tommy had refused to let you sulk alone. He’d climbed into your room through your window and wrapped his arm around you the second your lip wobbled, tears wetting your cheeks.

Tell me who I have to kill, he’d said before you ever told him what was wrong. He’s always been like that, hot-headed and protective, especially when it comes to you. Willing to fight anyone who’s ever slightly wronged you but not realizing when he’s done it himself.

You laughed into his shirt, snotty and miserable as he tightened his grip around you. Come on, sweets, fuck that guy. Like he’s even good enough for you.

You confessed with a burning embarrassment how you’d seen yourself kissing him– more out of the need to get your first kiss over with than actual want– and Tommy’s face had gone through a bunch of complicated emotions before settling on something sweet, shy, resolute. He’d thumbed at your chin thoughtfully, fingers just barely brushing over your bottom lip. 

Tommy had his first kiss when he was thirteen with Amy Hill behind the church his mother dragged them to every Sunday morning, but you’d never seen him that nervous. He failed to look into your eyes as he stuttered out his suggestion. If you wanna get it out of the way then maybe– I don’t know. Why not do it with someone who actually cares about you?

You’d looked at him in scrutiny as if you’d never taken a good look at him before. He self-consciously thought about his fair skin and his freckles, if his hair was still a mess from football practice, and if his breath smelled somewhat okay after having that sandwich for lunch. 

You offerin’, Miller?

Yeah, he’d said instead of something stupid like haven’t you heard? I’m a catch. He murmured bashfully, finally meeting your eyes. Yeah, sweets, I guess I am.

He’d licked his lips and drew a path with his fingers from your temple to behind your ear before cupping the side of your jaw, breath hot. Just– punch me in the face or something if you don’t want to.

You hadn’t. He’d closed the gap between you and you kissed him back slowly, hesitantly, diving back in again after he drew away. He was too short of breath for a chaste kiss that had lasted a couple of seconds, and the second time around his tongue flickered past his lips. Your hands on his shirt tightened in response, a helpless sound leaving your mouth that neither of you had been expecting. 

He hadn’t known about your crush then. Maybe that’s when it first started, some Tuesday night with a kiss in your childhood bedroom, but Tommy doesn’t remember ever becoming aware of it. He just knew, suddenly, and enough things had happened in the in-between from then to now for him to consider using it against you.

His drunken brain thinks differently, though.

“Don’t be like that, sweets,” the nickname had never bothered you before, born out of Tommy watching too many old movies one night the babysitter failed to show up and Joel fell asleep on the couch. You’d never questioned him when he started calling you that, probably liking it a little too much for it to be a friendly thing between you. “You can act all high and mighty next time, alright? Just come pick me up before Joel realizes he ain’t got a ride for work tomorrow mornin’.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you curse vehemently. You haven’t been to church in the years you’ve been back from college, much to your mama’s dismay. “You know what? Whatever. That’s Joel’s problem now, not mine. Call him.”

“I’m asking you for a favor,” he says through gritted teeth, suddenly irritated. His characteristic charm is gone just like that. “Why are you being so fucking difficult?”

“I’m done watching you wreck your life, Tommy,” you say with finality. He scoffs pettily. “I’m not picking up again, tonight or ever. Call Joel.” 

A click. Then nothing.

He says your name and the dial tone laughs back at him. And Tommy–

Tommy can’t actually believe it. He takes the phone off his ear and stares at it, dumbfounded, like looking at it long enough will get you back on the line. 

He hears the officer blow air out his mouth and the evening suddenly comes into sharpening clearness; the cold November air biting at his face, the taste of whiskey in his mouth. His hands are sweating from where he’s gripping his phone, the tag of his jacket is rubbing uncomfortably against the back of his neck. 

You’ve never hung up on him before.

“That it?” the officer asks with the lack of patience that’s characteristic of the night shift. 

“I– what? No, no,” he shakes his head, already dialing again. “Just– just give me a second.”

“Night ain’t young, man,” he grumbles, already reaching for his cuffs. Tommy takes a step back, suddenly out of his depth. “One call. Time’s up.”

“I’ll– I’ll go okay? I’ll go, just let me– let me call again,” the trembling of his fingers has nothing to do with his current state– Tommy feels like every single drop of alcohol has vaporized from his blood and now he’s left cold and in trouble and alone.

Fuck. Fuck, you’d never hung up on him before.

He calls again, once, twice, before the officer finally loses his patience. “Alright, kid. Whoever you’re callin’ they don’t wanna answer. You can have your one phone call at the precinct. Get someone else, though, huh?”

Tommy doesn’t want to. Tommy shouldn’t have to, a sudden rush of self-righteous anger washing over him with enough force to gridlock his entire body with tension. His jaw tightens and teeth grind together, his shoulders straighten into a taunt, painful line, holding onto the phone so tightly it shakes, the shapes of it making indentations on his skin.

How dare you? How fucking dare you? Friends since fucking birth, does that mean nothing to you? Now you’re throwing him away like a fucking dirty rag? 

Call Joel, you had said, and Joel is enough of an asshole to keep Tommy in the can overnight to teach him a lesson, but you? You two have always looked out for each other, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go–

“I don’t have all night, buddy,” the officer gets his hands on him to take back his phone and beckon him to the car. Tommy flails as an automatic response, fighting back against the unwanted touch. But whether he feels like it or not he’s still drunk and in the blink of an eye he’s got his face against the hood of a police car, red and blue lights hurting his eyes, and a tight hand around the back of his neck keeping him somewhat still. 

The officer mumbles something about Tommy causing more trouble than he’s worth and ain’t that a popular opinion tonight? “You’re gonna cause yourself any more trouble, son?”

Tommy snorts. Son, like the guy’s not just a couple of years older than him. He’s pretty sure they crossed paths once or a hundred times back in high school. 

The ride to the precinct is as uncomfortable as it gets. The heat in the car isn’t working so Tommy’s freezing his ass off in the back of the car, handcuffs digging into his wrists. His nose is bleeding all over his clothes, and hurting like a bitch where the officer had to punch him when Tommy’s fight response wouldn’t quit. 

And you, in the back of his mind. He pictures you asleep after his little interruption and his anger is enough of a fire inside of him to drown out the disbelief, the blatant hurt that threatens to kill him more than his broken nose does. 

He’ll pop the thing back into place later in the cell but this? You? As the hours pass by and clarity regains its home in his awareness, he doesn’t see a way around this. A scenario in which he calls again and you listen, where you talk to him and he doesn’t feel like you kicked him to the curb over fucking nothing. A few drinks. A favor. Best friends, his ass.

He’ll keep calling, though. Even if he has to spend the night in jail because you don’t pick up. He’ll dial drunk until he dies, just for you. 

______

tommy u silly little goose

since noah’s album came out last week i’ve had this song on repeat and i desperately wanted to write a fic about it. idk why my mind instantly went to tommy. i’m thinking of a post-outbreak sequel but i won’t confirm anything until it’s actually in the works. 

thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it! the lack of tommy fics is astounding to me, especially since gabriel luna is one of the most beautiful and talented men i’ve ever seen. 

reminder that commissions are open and support is always appreciated!

<3

#tommy miller #gabriel luna #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #reader insert #leo writes #tommy x reader #tommy miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal

[autistichalsin]

In light of all the bitching about the upcoming patch, I was so happy to hear you’re also not… mad at Larian, I guess? I was wondering if I’m missing something, because for all its bugs, the game is fine the way it is, to me. More than fine, it’s a great game, the first that really means something to me since Dishonored. Idk, I’m literally over here just vibing, glad I’m not alone in that 😌

I noticed there's been a trend in recent years, I think started by those media that truly DID become horribly disappointing as it went on (last season of GOT, for example), and people started just... like

There is a phase most media get where they are the Best Ever, they Can Do No Wrong. And then one day that phase ends, and suddenly, that media Can Do No Right. Everything is a mistake, everything is wrong, everything is an attempt to cater to one group of fans (who are, of course, the wrong group to cater to) and/or an attempt to spite one group of fans. I think that in this day and age, people sometimes don't understand the difference between consuming media critically, I.E., using critical thinking to understand the themes, plot, and characters, and consuming media critically, I.E. criticizing everything the creators say and do.

So instead of looking for simple explanations, I.E., "different trainings and specialties mean that the division of labor at Larian has a team that works on new animations, but that team is not the same team responsible for bug fixes, so getting new animations from the former isn't why the latter hasn't repaired Polearm Master or Shield Bash or Raphael and Mol's scene yet" they instead assume "Larian only cares about Astarion and Halsin* and are catering to their fans again at the expense of literally everything else"

*The idea that Halsin fans are receiving any kind of special treatment is laughable, but that is very much the accusation being made- i want to see their reaction when they open up patch 6 and see that their fave has new kiss animations too tbh. As for the new scenes datamined for Halsin, those are all in response to complaints made by people who HATE Halsin, not complaints by his fans. A platonic confession scene? A version of the post-breaking the curse scene that doesn't involve flirting? The only two that were made for Halsin fans were fixing his post-Drow dialogue and the ability to go with him at the end, and the latter hasn't been fully implemented yet (you can get a flag saying you chose him, but you don't get to tell him and have him respond yet). But I have seriously digressed.

IDK, it just seems like we're in the phase of fandoms where, since the initial joy of discovering what the game has to offer has worn off, people are getting their dopamine from getting angry instead, and that means making a game of who can have the best hot takes, who or what is the most problematic and deserving of shunning, what have the creators done to fuck over us poor fans, etc.

There are many legitimate criticisms to be made against Larian, I want to be clear here- their treatment of Wyll's character has been horrific, and the interactions between Durge and Astarion should have been given for ALL characters. It is appalling that they have let Minthara's romance be bugged to the point that some people can only trigger it by modding the game because the flags are bugged and that they have allowed Halsin's voice lines to be bugged SINCE LAUNCH causing many to think they don't exist. All of these things deserve to be criticized. But ascribing malice to things like having separate work teams on the game, or the pile-on people started over that "we fixed it so a glitch can't cause Gale to leave your party" patch... Yeah.

It's never a good sign when a fandom starts to collectively chase the high that comes from being The Angriest. It doesn't seem to be as prevalent on here as on Twitter, thankfully (ironically, speaking as someone who was on this site since before Superwholock, the most toxic parts of Tumblr moved to Twitter after the porn ban, and now it's mostly rational people on here) but we are rapidly sliding towards the "do you people even like this game or do you like the version of it you created in your head?" phase of fandom that everyone dreads.

[solarwynd]

Armys indifference towards jimin is eye opening to me. Has it always been this way? I think ever since I became a solo I’ve started to see things a lot differently that’s why I don’t outtightly judge the Armys that make it seem like they’re making it up because I was them at one point and unless you’re heavily biased towards jimin or a solo stan you’re just not going to see the vitriol hate he receives. I used to be a shooter account in 2020-2021 I had a large platform defending the members all the time and even though I biased jimin, I never saw even a fraction of the shit I see now as a solo. That’s why when armys say “they all get hate” it’s coming from them only seeing what their timeline provided to them, they’re not going out of their way to see what Muri or people like him say about jimin and no one is bringing it to their timeline and this is not me defending them because I think it’s ridiculous to not even acknowledge it but in a way I understand why they are the way they are. But the part where you said they’re not to6 and most bias the two youngest members is true, taekookers are the majority of the fandom and a lot of them see jimin as the big threat not only in the fake relationship they have made up but musically too, jimin does nothing and you’ll have people constantly name drop him and his music is loved but fans even though I’d say he doesn’t have nearly as many solo stans as the other two. I think the fandom in general hold Jungkook to a much higher standard than the rest especially jimin, I remember when jimin got a #1 and a lot of them were saying “wait until Jungkook comes” like it was a threat and how he will outdo jimin like they have something to prove. It’s pathetic to witness it everytime. Ot7 is a myth no matter how much they sugarcoat it, even the members are liars, they do see each other as competition maybe less of jimin and Jin but most of them care about the charts and how they perform

No, the current indifference was a recent change. Mostly because of how well face and lc did in comparison to dday which was the catalyst. Armys have always been “fine” with jimin but almost purely in the context of bts. He’s the only member that they never allow to be anything but an extension of bts and they’re pushing him even more into that role now because they find him digestible as the group cheerleader. It’s always “jimin and his brothers” as way diminish him as an individual or use him as a prop. It’s also why Jimin can’t have anything to himself. Not even the hate that he gets because armys always have to trivialize it by making it a maknae line issue and it’s done purposefully.

They’ve crafted the narrative that pjm solos are the worst, so whenever something proves the opposite they have to derail it. And that’s why I can never give armys the the benefit of the doubt of them not knowing about the hate jimin receives at the hands of jjks/tkkrs/kths because I know they see it. They follow their accounts and they interact with them (which is why I curse the day hybe hijacked the 7 symbol and made it jk’s brand)They just do their best to shield those groups from callouts because in doing so they’d be attaching th and jk’s name to them and they don’t want those two to get dragged. But anything with jimin attached to it? Automatically in the wrong and gets witch hunted.

I’ll never forget when a jimin biased army exposed a shooter on twitter for being a giant kth solo and jimin anti and armys outright defended them despite overwhelming proof that it was the truth. They even ran the jimin biased person off site because that account being a blink doxxer was more important. That’s when I knew that the bulk of armys do not care to “defend” jimin past blinks or the kpop stans who attack him from the outside. And even when they do that, it’s still to his detriment cause a lot of times they’ll offer him up as bait using his achievements unprovoked and get him dragged in the process.

That’s another thing in itself too. Armys are also only okay with what jimin has accomplished if they can lord it over kpop stans because as soon as we bring up the fact that jimin achieved what he did with no payola or label aid, all of a sudden it’s shade to jk. I used to HATE whenever armys would be under jimin’s chart tweets with that “just wait until jk debuts” BS because it just shows how desperate they were to restore that status quo and the hidden rule in the fandom.

Jimin is allowed to be good but he can’t be better than anybody else. He’s popular but tk are the most famous members. He can dance but hobi’s the best out the group. He can have writing and composing credits but it will never compare to rapline. Jimin has always been the outlier in bts because he’s always underestimated and put into a set role. Imagine he’s the only one out of maknae line that put any effort into his album and armys still ended up centering face around joon when that documentary came out just because he gave jimin advice. Not only that, but armys also do the most to find any way possible to give tk credit for those two albums that they don’t deserve. And all because those two didn’t live up to their own pretentiousness.

This isn’t news cause I’ve shared this same sentiment before but I never believed that jk deserved the high pedestal people put him on. He doesn’t do anything significantly better than anyone else in the group but because of his looks he gets that extra boost. I’ll never lie and claim that he’s not talented but that’s about it. He’s given more room to not live up to expectations while still getting heralded as the group prodigy. And it’s like, okay? But how long will you wear that out before you actually do something worthwhile to live up to that title?

There’s plenty of things that have made me realize that outside of the group, some members just don’t appeal to me. So it’s not that they potentially see each other as competition that bothers me or makes me think that they’re liars but some decisions that have been made that has made me resentful to some degrees towards them. And I don’t think that’ll change tbh.

[gusthegremlin]

I know it's kind of old news now, but instead of continuing to consume media that's being put out by corporations too greedy to pay writers and give them decent working conditions, my advice?

Read Fanfiction

I know you've probably heard it before (tumblr veterans, I'm preaching to the choir), and maybe you haven't and don't care (all of the incoming reddit and twitter refugees, please keep an open mind, fanfic is fairly common here and not considered as "cringe" as other parts of the internet), but please hear me out. By reading fanfiction, you are doing two (2) important things while also getting your fix for your favorite characters/worlds/tropes.

First, you are essentially boycotting those awful, awful corporations that have driven writers to strike. Like the 07-08 writers strike made unscripted reality TV boom, the writers strike today has stirred up thoughts of using AI to get around hiring writers. In order to keep humans in creative control, we need to consume media made by humans*

Now, secondly, by reading fanfiction, you are supporting small artists and writers. Not only are you supporting the writers of the actual fanfictions, but you also might be supporting their beta reader or their cover artist.

Archive of Our Own (or AO3) is my go-to site. It's an archive (duh) that's non-profit, volunteer run, and the tagging system is nearly flawless, in my opinion. You can find nearly every fandom, every ship, and every trope. They also have an app. It's not as good, but it does offer some accessibility options.

There's plenty of other sites as well, but AO3 works the best for me. I recommend it highly, especially since there is an option to exclude certain tags, which is incredibly helpful in weeding out triggering fanfics.

I know some people have mixed feelings about the strike and how it affects their favorite media, but please remember why they're doing it. Writers deserve better, especially since they work so hard to continue creating your favorites. So, in these trying times, when you miss the world and characters that these writers were creating, turn to the other talented writers who have taken them up and are creating stories with them.

Read Fanfiction

*This isn't just fanfiction, of course, though that is probably the easiest way to do so, but also supporting fanartists, small novelists (idk if you've seen, but 7 Deadly Habits of the Modern Demon Summoner by @animentality is all over my dashboard and I couldn't be happier), smaller podcasts (I recommend DND actual play podcast for those of you who want your action fix), and generally watching indie and small production movies and shows.

TL;DR - don't continue to support corporations during the writers' strike, read fanfiction and support small artists and writers.

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #writers #fanfiction writer #ao3 writer #writers on tumblr #writeblr #queer writers #support the wga #wga strike #writer strike #support writers #support fanfic writers #support small biz #support small authors #support small artists #7 deady habits of the Modern Demon Summoner #animentality #twitter refugees #reddit refugee #artists on tumblr #writers on ao3 #writing #fandom #fanart

[saturnsorbits]

Shadows

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Dark Content, NonCon to Con-NonCon, Villain!Kirishima (Blood Riot), Villain!Bakugo (Ground Zero), Rough Sex, Audio Voyeurism, Forced Breeding, A Smidge of Suggested KiriBaku. If I’ve Missed Anything Please Let Me Know! Word Count: 4.1k.

Summary: Blood Riot has a bone to pick with your boyfriend, but neither of you could have guessed it would also help you both indulge in a dark fantasy.

-> This piece contains DARK CONTENT - please heed the warnings <-

A/N: Just a quick thank you to @/kingkatsuki (not tagging bc I don’t want to be a bother 😅) for giving this a little read over a few months ago. Her comments where an invaluable comfort and lead me to re-write this piece with (hopefully) a little more spice. It’s still not as ‘dark’ as I’d like, but I’m trying. Okay, guys 🤣

Having such an incredible person, not only as a fellow writer, but as a friend is honestly more than I could ask for. Jo is one of the most amazingly talented people i’ve ever met and one of the nicest, most encouraging people on this whole damn site to boot. She’s a credit to all of us, the community and the characters she writes for. We’re not worthy of her, truly. Thank you, Jo! 💕

Your keys are clutched in your fist before you even leave the building. The metal is cold against your skin as you readjust your grip, the slender stem of the mortice key sticking out from just below your curled palm. Excitement thrums in your veins.

'Do'ya need me to walk you home?' Your colleague, Mirio, smiles pressing a palm to the glass of the lobby door. He stands aside, letting you pass.

'Best not.' You arc your eyebrows, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, anxious to get going.

'It's just – It's dark and y'know...' He swallows, throat bobbing as he flashes a grin and steps closer lowering his voice to a whisper. '… That villain was seen a few blocks from here. You don't want to risk running into the likes of him on your own.'

You resist the urge to laugh, biting down on your lip hard to stop the chuckle that threatens to bubble up your throat. That, you don't tell him, is exactly what you want. 'I'll be fine.'

'Are you sure?' Pulling a hand from his pocket, Mirio reaches out tapping his fingers against your elbow. 'I'm pretty good company.'

Forcing a smile to your lips, you take a measured step away. 'I'm meeting my boyfriend. I think I'll be fine.'

Instantly, Mirio's face bursts into flames. 'Oh.' He looks at his shoes, then back up again – a faint dusting of rose still clear on his cheeks.

'Well, I should get going then. Make sure you get home safe, yeah?'

'See you next week.' Throwing up a small wave, you turn, not bothering to wait for him to return your pleasantry before you're almost bolding down the road.

It's a nice-enough night. There are a few clouds lingering in the sky, dragged along by a steady breeze that bites at the tips of your elbows and knees. Quiet consumes the street, broken only by the distant hum of a late-night taxi fare and the consistent tap-tap-tap of your heels as you hurry as fast as your half-freezing legs can carry you.

You're barely half-way home when something moves in the darkness behind you. The pool of light offered by the street-lamps are no match for the pitch that obscures anything more than a few feet from each island of safety. Even if you wanted to see anything lingering in the night, you're not sure you'd be able to.

Swallowing, you resist the urge to run as your senses kick into high-gear. With your heart jack-rabbiting in your chest, it's hard to hear the tell-tale crunching of boots on concrete, but you know they're there. Hauling in a breath, you clutch your keys tighter and then, take a very deliberate left turn down a thin, dingy alleyway. You're barley a dozen steps in when you hear the footsteps stop. A shadow looms over you, blocking out the fragile light of the moon. The hairs on your body prickle as goose-flesh coats your arms, but you don't turn around: not yet.

'What do we have here?'

The voice sends a shiver of pure ice down your spine. Your throat constricts, stomach dropping through the floor as a new, very real fear wraps around your lungs.

That isn't the voice of your boyfriend.

Within seconds the footsteps start up again. They creep forward, each step bringing with it the grind of rubber and the dull clank of metal. The shadow on the concrete stretches, swelling as it swallows more and more of the alleyway in front of you. 'Dangerous for a silly, little thing like you to be out this late. Didn't anyone tell you...'

You can feel his breath on your neck as he spits his words onto your skin. There's a low growl, something that reverberates in his throat and then he's leaning down and speaking right beside your ear. '… There's a villain on the loose.'

Spinning on a heel, you readjust your keys in your hand before driving the blunt edge of your key into his chest, but as soon as it collides with hardened skin it snaps.

There's a low chuckle from above you. 'Got some fight in you, huh?’

Your mouth runs dry.

Blood Riot is a sight to behold. Towering above you with ease, his chin tilted down, you can just make out the flash of a dark, split tongue as he flicks it out to lick at his teeth. A mane of deep red frames his face, falling down his back in rough waves that cut off just below his shoulders. His costume leaves little to the imagination, giving you full view of his broad chest and the thick layer of black hair that trails between bulging muscles before dipping below the waistband of his belt.

'Am I a disappointment?' He cocks his head. 'You where expecting someone else, weren't you?.. Ground Zero is a little tied up, I'm afraid.'

'He knows I'm here...' Taking another step backwards, you try and control the hammering in your chest. 'He'll -'

'Oh, sweetheart.' Sucking air over his teeth, Kirishima groans before crowding you in. He pins you to the wall effortlessly, a large hand around the base of your neck. There's no pressure, not yet, but that doesn't stop him from squeezing experimentally with thick fingers to hear you squeak. 'He isn't coming to save you...' He leans in, breathing on your cheeks. 'You see... Your little boyfriend has been getting in my way. I’ve tried to warm him, sweetheart, I have, but you know how stubborn he can be and now… Well, now I think it's time I taught him a lesson.'

'What did you...' The stone in your stomach sinks making swallowing difficult, but even before you've attempted to lift your leg to kick out at him, he's pressing his bulk against you.

Calloused fingers drag up the outside of your thigh, catching against the hem of your skirt and dragging the material upwards. 'Lucky for me, it looks like having a big, bad villain for a boyfriend is making you get a bit brave walking about in the dark.' A smile curls his lip showing pointed teeth that shine centimetres from your face. 'It's almost as if you're looking for trouble, huh?'

'Please.' Fear drips down your spine until it begins to pool in your stomach. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the heat of him press in and radiate through your body. Hand reaching for your pocket, you struggle to pat at the side of your jacket trying and failing to place your phone.

'Nah-ah-ah.' Kirishima slips the device from your fingers before they even gain purchase. His hand tightens around it, hardened skin rippling as his fist cracks, but before he can crush the thing entirely, he relaxes again. 'Actually...'

Licking the top row of his teeth, something vicious flashes in his eyes as he drops the device to your hand and forces your thumb against it. Keeping one hand clenched around your throat, he scrolls through your phone lazily before grinning and lifting it to his ear. He bites his lip and rocks his eyes upwards as the dull ringing of a phone-call drifts through the speakers.

'Fuck... Fuck, baby – baby, are you -.' Bakugo sounds like he's been running. His breath hitches on each inhale, the exhales rough and shaky as he grunts and swallows down spit.

'N'aww, are we doing pet names now... Honey?' Kirishima's voice is sickly sweet when he giggles down the phone, tilting his head and narrowly avoiding twisting his hair around a finger.

Metal rattles, the sounds of struggling growing louder until a rage-filed snarl echoes over the line. 'Riot, what the fuck did you do?'

'Oh, so that's a no on the pet names?'

'I swear if you hurt a fucking hair on her head, I will -.'

'Baby...' Kirishima purrs. 'I'm not going to hurt her... 'm going to fucking ruin her.' Turning his attention back on you, he pushes in close making sure you can feel the large swell of his cock as it fills out his pants. It had taken weeks for him to think up an appropriate punishment for Bakugo's little trespasses, but now watching as fear swims in your eyes, he's very glad he landed on this.

Bakugo yells, thrashing violently, but any words are lost to his anger.

'You'll never make it in time, princess...' Leaning in, Kirishima breathes over your neck nosing at the turn of your jaw close enough that he knows your squeaking is seeping down the phone and into Bakugo's ears on the other end. He flicks the call to speaker. '… So, I think you should just sit tight and enjoy the show.' Slipping the phone into your shaking hand, he lifts your arm until the speaker is in line with the side of your mouth. He pecks the tip of your nose. ‘Now hold that steady for me so Princess can hear all your pretty little sounds, okay.’ A smile flickers across his face, but it quickly turns sour as hardened cracks fragment his features. ‘Drop it and you won’t like what happens.’

With your heart jack-rabbiting and fear keeping you still, you can’t do anything, but nod. A trail of Bakugo’s expletives seep from the phone, quickly followed by a ragged:

‘I’m coming, baby. Shit. Okay? I’m coming!’

Kirishima’s cock twitches in his pants, leaking a thick stream of pre-cum into his boxers as the combined desperation of you and Bakugo leaks into the air. You sounds so helpless, so weak and easy, ripe for the taking. A chuckle bubbles up his throat as he sinks to his knees with a sickening crunch and all but tears your skirt from your hips. The material hangs limply at either side of your thighs, exposing the thin lace of your underwear. His cock jumps again. 'Now...' Leaning in, he breaths in your cunt relishing in the sweetness as it hits his nose. 'Be a good girl and let me have a taste, yeah?'

You're wet. You can feel it, the steady thrum of your heartbeat as it migrates south and causes you to drip helplessly into your underwear. It sickens you, makes you want to scream, but for some reason... You don't. Instead, it’s a moan that leaps from your lips and meets a cursed ‘Fuck’ from Bakugo’s end.

'No.' Your hand shoots down to his head, nails dragging viciously across his scalp as you fist red locks and attempt to force him back. It takes all of your strength to push him back a few centimetres and even then, your arms shake with the effort. You wriggle, trying to use the solidness of the wall behind you for added leverage, but even that doesn't shift him. 'No. Stop... Please. Stop.'

He growls, ignoring the burning on his head to surge forward again. He mouths at you over the lace of your underwear, using his tongue to taste what little of your slick leaks through.

You squeeze your thighs together and pull at him again, trying in vain to keep your cunt from his face. There's a bottomless well of fear in your stomach, but with each lick of his tongue down your slit, it fills with lust as your body betrays you.

'It's kind of cute.' Chuffing, he plants a soft kiss on your thigh and follows it with a harsh nip. 'You thinking you've got any choice here.' His hands slide up your legs, thumbs twisting against your pelvis to pin you down before he forces your thighs aside and slings them lazily over his shoulders.

A yelp leaves your throat as you're hauled further up the wall and held there. With your thighs held apart by his head, his hands creep further up your body. One stays put at your pelvis, stopping your attempts to buck yourself off your new found podium, while the other stretches up to grip the collar of your shirt. He rips the material with little qualm, his palm instantly ducking under your bra to grope at your chest.

'That's better.' Diving into your cunt, he uses his teeth to tear through your underwear before flicking his tongue against your clit. He's ravenous. The dull beating of your fist on the back of his neck are mere annoyances, the broken bleating of your chorus of 'No, please, stop' nothing, but an encouragement that makes his cock bob.

Your cunt clenches, desperate as his tongue slips between your folds and you cry out, unable to silence it behind your lips. 'Stop – Fuck – Please... I – Don't... I'll do anything, just – stop, please. You don't have to.. I'll tell Katsuki to stop... Please.' You're a broken record, but the words spill over your lips as you force your body to struggle on, wiggling only to be pinned down harder in retaliation. Panicked, the phone slips from your hand and clatters to the floor as you try with the strength of both arms to shove him away. It doesn’t work.

He pops off your clit and licks his lips. There’s a darkness consuming the red of his eyes when he glares up at you between your legs. ‘I told you not to drop that…’

‘I -.’ There’s a storm in your chest, one that has you almost delirious with fear. ‘I’m sorry. I -.’

Clenching his jaw, Kirishima licks a thick stripe up your slit and revels in the way your eyes almost roll back in your head. ‘I’ll forgive it, this time, but now I’m going to have to fuck you even harder so your little boyfriend can still hear me using his toy. Okay?’

Your nose flares, cunt clenching and dropping onto his knees below. The words this time run on a frantic loop in the back of your head.

The pressure of your thighs squeezing his head is making him dizzy, but that's nothing compared to the violent wave of lust that threatens to consume him when he looks up and sees the tears wetting your cheeks. He's sure you haven't even noticed, too overcome with the way his tongue had been carving out a space inside, but that just gives him an idea. Leaning over to towards the discarded phone, he shouts. 'Your girl tastes good, baby...'I do have a question though, you ever fuck her so hard she cries? Or, is my tongue just that good.'

'Riot... I fuck -.' An small explosion interrupts his words, quickly followed by another. The footsteps stop. On the line, Bakugo's voice is quieter, hoarse as he pants and fumbles with something… ‘Shit. I -.’ Skin slips against skin. Bakugo’s breath hitches. ‘I’ll be there, baby. I’m coming - okay… I -.’

There's a smirk overtaking his feature's at once. 'I'm impressed you managed to escape. Shall we see if I can make her cum on my cock before you get here?' Releasing your hip he's quick to unzip his pants and pull himself free. The cold air hits his cock, making him hiss, but he doesn't waste any more time before he's standing and taking you with him.

You're bent in half as he stands. Your legs slip off his shoulders, only to get trapped between your chest and his and you have to bite your lip as your muscles complain at the stretch. A wave of excitement rocks through you as he man-handles you, bends and positions you any way he pleases without so much as a request. It makes your stomach writhe into knots and your thighs shake with anticipation of his next move.

'Sounds like your boyfriends a little caught up, sweetheart.’ There’s a knowing flash in his eyes. ‘Shame he's not gonna get here in time.' Leaning in close, he gropes at your ass, squeezing plush flesh in his hand before wrapping a hand around his cock. He gives himself a cursory tug, smooths his shaft with the thick pre-cum coating the tip and lines himself up. 'Gonna make such a pretty little cock sleeve for me, baby. Aren't you?' He breathes it against your ear wrapped in a moan before forcing the tip past your entrance.

You scream. 'No – fuck, big, too, too big. It's...' Words jam in your throat as new tears spring to your eyes. 'It hurts... Fuck, please – it hurts.' His cock bullies its way inside of you, stretching your cunt to fit. It burns, stings as the head presses to your cervix and then, all you feel is pure, blinding pleasure. A moan bubbles over your lips, transforming into another dull scream.

He shushes you gently, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. Rolling his hips once, he forces you to feel him, forces you to hiccup and swallow down the shake in your body as he carves out a new space inside of you. 'You can take it, baby, c'mon... Open up for me, that’s a good girl.'

From the phone, a garbled cry drifts into the air. The noise makes Kirishima smile, even if you’re too entrenched in the feel of him to notice.

Deep red lines blemish his skin as you scratch and tear at his shoulders. You're helpless, but that doesn't stop you trying. This, like all of your other theatrics, does little to phase him, even when your nails break the skin and you swear you can feel his cock jump inside of you when you get desperate and claw at his neck.

'Look at you...' You're squeezing him already, your thrashes weakening by the second as moans and yelps pool in your throat. The tears have made your eyes glassy and dug out divots in your foundation, causing your cheeks to grow streaky with skin and smeared mascara, but he can't help thinking that you look beautiful like this. 'Already cock-drunk... What happened to that fight, huh? Just took a decent cock and you're panting like a bitch.' His tongue creeps from behind his lips, licking up the stream of wet that trails down your cheek. 'You hear that, Princess? Hear how pretty she's singing for me?'

From his pocket more explosions sound, dull expletives slipping into the air. It sounds like Bakugo is finally running again.

Nothing breaks through the fog and hiccups blocking your throat. He's right. You're cock-drunk. Totally at his mercy as your cunt clings to him, drooling as it takes everything he has to give. Thoughts of Bakugo cloud your mind. He's out there, now... Racing across the city to save you and yet… Part of you isn't sure you want to be saved.

Pleasure bubbles violently inside of you as you're given more than you've ever had to take, but with each rough thrust, each burning moan earned from your chest you're unable to deny how fucking good he feels. You moan, freely, for the first time letting your head rock back as his cunt presses to the spongy parts of your cunt and makes you feel like you might burst.

'Fuck.' He hisses when you clench around him, but doesn't stop. He can't. It's too good. Mind racing, he fucks up into you with increasingly rough thrusts, not caring about how deeply he's plunging inside of you: you're here to be used after all. A growl bubbles in his chest as he feels the tell tale tug of his balls pulling taught. 'You're gonna look so good dripping with me.'

His words feel like ice water down your back. 'No.' Your breath catches in your throat and you hope it sounds more like fear that the violent excitement that clenches in your stomach. 'No, please. Not inside – don't. I don't -.'

Knocking his forehead against yours, he barres his teeth, ignoring your pleas. 'Gonna give you and Zero a little Riot, huh? No way I'm pulling out of this, baby. No fucking way.'

Your orgasm takes you out of nowhere. It crashes against you in waves, causing your head to bang back against the wall as you cunt milks him, almost begging for his release. The force of it makes your head swim as he fucks your through it, prolonging your high for what feels like infinity. You're shaking, you're sure of it, your nails biting into the skin of his shoulders as you quake and shiver, eyes rolling back and straining the muscle behind.

'Look at you, look – ah, shit.' His hips stutter for a moment, stilling as his cock spurts into life coating your insides with thick, creamy white. He's not sure if it was the fucked-out look in your eyes as you came harder than he's ever seen or if it's the power that courses through him having you pinned and vulnerable like this, but he has to harden his knees to keep him upright. With a final thrust, he stills completely struggling to catch his breath.

It's weak, a noise sounding more like a whimper than words that echoes in the back of your throat. You're not sure what you're asking for. If your asking for him to finally let you go or pick you up again and fuck his cum back into you against the wall.

'Good girl.' Reaching up, he grips you by the chin, squashing your cheeks together before pressing a kiss to your mouth. His tongue slips in soon after, pinning yours down in some show of awkward dominance. Pulling back, he lowers you gently back to the floor and removes his cape. There's a vicious smile on his lips when he wraps it around you, shielding your modesty.

You don't shy away. There's one million emotions seeping through your body, but not one of them is bad. You ache, pleasantly, and the warmth of Kirishima's hands is too alluring to ignore when he smooths them down your sides.

'You enjoyed that, didn't you, Sweetheart?'

Swallowing, you try not to think of how scared you'd been when he'd first cornered you... Of how the fear had melted away as his cock stretched you out; of how knowing Bakugo was listening had made you whine louder, needier - wanting him to hear just how good this other man was fucking you.

'Admit it.'

'I -.' Saying it makes it real, but the words slip off of your tongue anyway. 'I enjoyed it.'

A sigh breeches Kirishima's lips as he leans down and places a final soft kiss to your lips. 'Bakugo's got himself a dirty bitch, huh? Fuck.' He kisses you again, indulging this time. 'The things I'd do to a girl like you, the things I'd let you do to me...'

'Kirishima!' Bakugo skids to a stop at the mouth of the ally. An explosion lights the night behind him as he throws himself forward, not stopping for a second as he collides solidly with Kirishima's chest and sends the man flying to the floor. He lands on top of him, thighs bracketing his waist as he reels back an arm.

'So we're not doing pet names, but we are doing names...' Kirishima is still smiling, even as Bakugo's fist collides with his face. His neck cracks sideways, but he catches the second punch before it can do any actual damage.

'I'm going to fucking murder you, you piece of -.' There's flame almost engulfing his fist, but each spark dies as it hits the hard of Kirishima's hand. Clenching his jaw, he shifts himself forward attempting to force the other man to release him.

With raised eyebrows, Kirishima chuckles as he feels something hard poke at the underside of his pec. Glancing down, it's impossible not to notice the darkening patch on the crotch of Bakugo's pants, of how his cock strains the material and twitches. 'Looks like you enjoyed yourself too...'

'You -.' Bakugo's cheeks are burning, his jaw clenched tight as he battles the emotions flaring in his chest. How the fuck was he supposed to rationalise the cum staining his boxers, the fact that your moans had made him hard, that he'd had to stop to fuck his fist when your whines had grown heavy with pleasure...

Reaching down, Kirishima strokes the still-hard length of Bakugo's cock and collects the little dampness he can before popping his fingers into his mouth and groaning. 'I think... The Princess enjoyed himself too. Huh? Maybe we should go again and make you watch…’

You sink to your knees beside Kirishima and reach out to run a finger down Bakugo's cock making his hiss. This time, when the word drops from your lips, it isn't encased in fear and panic – it's lined with excitement and promise. You blink up at Bakugo: 'Please.'

-> Masterlist

#saturnscribbles #kirishima smut #kirishima x reader smut #tw: noncon #tw: connoncon #tw: blood riot #blood riot x reader smut #tw: dark content

[whispersoftheton]

Hi!! I hope you are doing well!! Do you have any headcanons on Anthony being a father figure to Hyacinth? Like how we got a glimpse of his relationship with Gregory in season 2? Thanks, love!!

Hello! I am doing okay, just trying to get the hang of this fandom haha. I hope you're doing well too! Let's get into it, shall we :)

As stern as he usually is, Anthony has a soft spot for his younger siblings.

Hyacinth

He is very overprotective of Hyacinth, being the baby of the family and all. But their bond is unbreakable. Anthony is the only father figure she has ever known; he does not take that lightly.

He knows how much his sister loves to dance. Every time they are to host a ball he calls her down to sneak in one dance before the crowds arrive. Teaching her the steps she does not already know and making sure to make her laugh in the process.

They often play pall mall to pass the summer days. He even lets her use his lucky mallet from time to time. Anthony offers her his very best and secret tips to outsmart his siblings—no overly competitive facade to be seen when he is around his youngest sister. His tough exterior melting at the sight of her every time.

Gregory

Since opening up to him about their father in the study, Anthony has stepped up to be there for Gregory more often. He brings him into the study every couple of nights to tell him more about their father and share stories so he could live on within him.

He takes Gregory out on rides and enjoys spending time with him teaching him the ways of manhood when he can.

Hyacinth and Gregory often sneak into Anthony's study to give him a good scare when he least expects it. Although he acts frustrated, it quickly washes away when he glances upon their smiles, and their giggles fill his ears. It warms Anthony's heart to see his youngest siblings filled with so much glee, even if it is at his expense.

Thank you for the ask!

I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #bridgerton hc

[dawnfelagund]

I feel like there’s a lot of stuff coming to light lately about ao3’s glacial pace at adopting transparent and actionable antiracist policies (and the fact that a longtime head of the abuse team who helped draft their abuse moderation bylaws was documentably quite racist herself). And on the one had, like what you brought up about it taking a while for the archive to address the AI issue because of organization size and slow ability to pivot, I can see why it took some time to iron out the code etc for the new block mute functions. But on the other hand, I feel like not much else has happened, and more volunteers are coming forward about it having been a kind of catty and clandestinely bullying environment. Since you’ve been active for a long time and run an (albeit much smaller) archive of your own (pun, haha), I was wondering if you had any thoughts on this. And if there’s anything unique or cool in the SWG bylaws or structure to either prevent this sort of 1) buildup of crappy user behavior and 2) insular and punitive moderator culture, or if you’ve dealt with anything similar on the site etc etc. and maybe if you have any advice for folks who want to open their own archive or who just mod a large discord etc etc.

Oh yes, anon, I have tons of thoughts and ideas, and thank you for these wonderful questions! <3

First of all ...

ao3’s glacial pace

I recently wrote about the OTW’s fumbling of the AI issue and compared change on a large organization to port-rounding the Titanic. The AI issue is an apt illustration of that. In the time it took for the Silmarillion Writers’ Guild to 1) decide we needed an AI policy, 2) write said AI policy, 3) open it for public commentary, and 4) research how to block and then implement blocks on AI scrapers to the best of our abilities (since this will never be 100% since not all scrapers follow the rules), the OTW managed to ... assure a distressed membership base that the thing they were worrying about (AI scraping) had been blocked in December. Why did it take a week just to say, “Hey guys, we actually did this months ago”? When we (with far fewer resources!) took the exact same span of time and managed to write a policy, release it, and research and implement AI bot blocks?

Part of it is that, yes, smaller orgs have the ability to be more nimble. On the SWG, there is me at the helm, three active site mods, and two Discord mods who work on policy, involving volunteers (like our inclusivity focus group) as needed. We generally go with a majority rule, and we’re not bogged down by the legal obligations of a nonprofit as far as our governance. But it also reaches a point where the size of an organization is not the only reason why it can actually get things done, and when it takes a week to offer reassurance to your membership that you have in fact done what they want, it really begs the question of whether that organization is able to effectively function at all.

Without commenting on the viability of the specific demands of @end-otw-racism, they are absolutely right that three years is too long to go without action. That's absurd, and it’s hard to see it as anything but thinking that the right words following George Floyd’s murder were all that would be required and hoping that promises of actual action would be forgotten. Actually, I’m more sympathetic to the time to implement new block/mute code than I am to the failure of the Board to take the promised action against racist harassment within the OTW: the coders are purely volunteer, not elected, and the burnout of “techno-volunteers” is a known reality (e.g., De Kosnik 2016) of running fandom sites because it is a hard job, invisible and unappreciated, and it is never done. I know that I have new features and improvements on my to-do list for the SWG for more than a year now because maintaining the current site and fixing it when it breaks takes priority and a lot of my time. So when coders take a while to get something done? Okay, fair. But the Board? Were the ones who promised action that they don’t seem to have actually intended to take. In even the most cumbersome organization, we should be seeing goals set and progress, in however small steps, being made toward those goals. In three years.

if there’s anything unique or cool in the SWG bylaws or structure to either prevent this sort of 1) buildup of crappy user behavior

I think the OTW/AO3 and the SWG begin from completely different philosophical foundations.

I’ve been in Tolkien fanfic fandom since 2004 and founded the SWG in 2005, so at the risk of being all “I was there, Gandalf” ... I was there when the OTW and AO3 were first being discussed, largely lurking but definitely following the discussions. And I was there for the content purges on LiveJournal and FanFiction.net that precipitated those discussions, and I was a part of fandom when writing adult content--especially LGBTQIA+ adult content--was risky business, both within fandom and “IRL.” From this climate (and the fear it created) came the OTW and AO3: the idea that “we own the servers and run the organization so we can accept everything that is a fanwork on our site,” and fans would no longer need to fear waking up and finding years of their work gone in a single deletion spree motivated by gratifying fans who ascribe to purity culture or advertisers or anyone.

The OTW’s mission, in their own words: “The Organization for Transformative Works (OTW) is a nonprofit organization established by fans to serve the interests of fans by providing access to and preserving the history of fanworks and fan culture in its myriad forms” (emphasis mine). The aim of the OTW (and consequently AO3) is and has always been to archive everything. They are a universal archive on order of Project Gutenberg or Archive.org. The OTW’s FAQ calls AO3 “fandom’s deposit library” (“Is the OTW trying to replace all other archives?”). In other words, the primary purpose is storing as many fanworks as possible, regardless of the content of those fanworks.

Yes, this means the OTW considers AI-generated fanworks as legitimate. Yes, this means that the OTW considers fanworks with blatantly racist (or sexist or homophobic or transphobic or ...) content as legitimate. The parallel I keep drawing is to the ACLU, which prioritizes civil liberties in the same way that the OTW prioritizes fanworks preservation, which leads them to sometimes end up defending reprehensible people and viewpoints (and fanworks). They prioritize a principle above the harm that principle, taken to its logical extreme, could cause to people who are by and large already marginalized in and therefore harmed by society. That is not a critique of either organization, just a statement of fact, and this is where I feel like fans hoping for increased moderation or oversight of fanworks posted on AO3 are banging their heads against the wall. The OTW will never be that place; their very mission and reason for existence forbids it.

The problem is that, for most fans and fandoms, AO3 is their only option as an archive. Which brings me to the SWG ...

The SWG (which opened its archive in 2007, two years before AO3 entered open beta) originated during the same fandom era as AO3. The key difference is that where OTW/AO3 focused on fanworks and the values they embraced around the worth of all fanworks, the SWG focused on people and creating a fandom space that was open, welcoming, and civil. The Tolkien fandom was also a pretty messed-up place at the time. There were dozens of small, Tolkien-specific archives, most of which imposed some sort of content restriction, either in the sense of what they focused on (like the SWG focuses on Silmarillion fanworks) or in excluding certain content, such as adult-rated fanworks or slash. This certainly caused its share of hard feelings but I wouldn’t say was a problem in and of itself: There were so many archives and communities that there was someplace for everyone. The larger issue, from my perspective (as a new Tolkien fan when I started the SWG in 2005) was that bullying and harassment were extremely common in some places; homophobia and misogyny were acceptable under the guise of “canonicity” or “respect for Tolkien”; discussing racism, sexism/misogyny, homophobia, etc. in Tolkien’s works or in the fandom was Just Not Done in many spaces (you’d get pelted with a barrage of Tolkien Couldn’t Have Been Racist/Sexist/Etc. and Here’s Why if you tried); and new fans or fans who didn’t have full access to the texts were looked down upon and mistreated under the pretense of “correcting their canon.” Again, Tolkien fanworks fandom was very large and diverse, so this was certainly not all groups or sites, but it was true of many of the larger ones.

On the SWG, we decided we didn’t want to perpetuate this culture, so we set out to create guidelines (which we call our Site Etiquette) that prioritized civility and inclusivity. Again, we come from the same era of fandom history as the OTW, so we also ended up accepting most fanworks, but where we differ from the OTW and AO3 is that maximizing the fanworks we accept is not our priority. Instead,

Abusive or derogatory behavior will not be tolerated at any time or in any part of the SWG. We do not welcome or allow any content in our group that is designed to be hurtful or insulting.

This has been a part of our Site Etiquette since our archive’s inception, and it has persisted, unchanged, because it easily allows for the exclusion of anything--like the openly racist content identified on AO3 by End OTW Racism--that makes our group a hostile place for our members. We do also put the responsibility on our members to curate their own browsing experience on our archive:

Members are not required to like everyone, but they are required to be civil. If you dislike a fanwork, stop reading it and do not comment. If you dislike another member, do not interact with them.

To that end, we provide a number of warning tags that creators are expected to use (or else label their fanwork “Choose Not to Warn”), which includes a tag for “In-Universe Intolerance.” Unlike AO3, if a fanwork is mislabeled, the mods will work with the creator to assure that it is labeled correctly so that it meets the creator’s needs but also preserves visitors’ rights to curate what they read/view. That doesn’t mean that these systems will be perfectly implemented or will always meet everyone’s needs, but we have found that they generally do, in part because joining the SWG means you are agreeing to participate on an archive where civility and inclusivity are primary values.

Implied in all of the above but important to state, too, is that the SWG is a moderated community and site. We do not review everything posted to our site, but we will respond to “flags” or other reports of fanworks that violate our site guidelines, and on our Discord and other community spaces, we do hold our members to our standards around civility and inclusivity. We do address member behavior (mostly on our Discord) that creates a hostile culture, and we do ban members who demonstrate that they are unwilling to work on culling that behavior from their interactions on our spaces. That is not a preference and it is thankfully rare when we have to do so, but again, it becomes an option when you’re not looking at a person’s participation as the creation of a valuable cultural artifact that you are obligated to preserve but in terms of its impact on others who share those community spaces with them.

2) insular and punitive moderator culture

I honestly don’t see this as able to become an issue on a small site the way it appears to have become on the OTW.

By that, I don’t mean that small sites are incapable of having leadership who are cliquish, punitive, abusive, unresponsive, or any of the other charges levied against members of the OTW Board and leadership. However, the impact on a smaller site is much different than on a larger site: It’s easier for members to walk away.

There were definitely dysfunctional sites and groups in the Tolkien fanworks fandom’s history. What tended to happen is ... they didn’t last long. People went elsewhere with their stories and participation (because there were other places to go), the site’s reputation began to precede it so that people avoided it, and eventually it was just the rarefied few who had made it a miserable place to begin with making misery among themselves, which is really an ideal situation, when you really think about it. (In less extreme examples, my fandom history research using data from the Tolkien Fanfiction Survey has shown that users of small Tolkien archives tended to select where they posted on the basis of how the archive’s culture aligned with their own values.)

AO3, on the other hand, has developed a near-gravitational force in the fanworks world. Almost everyone uses it because we’ve reached a point where there are no other options for many fans. If you are in one of the few fandoms (like Tolkien) that still has independent archives, you can go there. If you can meet the content guidelines of FanFiction.net or Wattpad, those become options. But for many, AO3 is it. I guarantee there are many people right now, looking on at what is happening on the OTW with dismay, interested in at least crossposting elsewhere, but who have no place to go.

No one needs the SWG in the way that that need AO3; it is an “only option” for no one. Therefore, my comods and I, by necessity, have to create a site and community that people want to be a part of, and part of that (for us) is through our leadership: hearing and responding to our members’ needs, inviting member input wherever possible in our decision-making process, and being transparent in our decisions.

And again, so much of this comes back to our intentional work to create a community culture of civility and inclusivity and the fact that people who join us generally value those things as well. The SWG is a community archive, not a universal archive (to borrow De Kosnik’s terminology); it derives from our community values, collectively agreed upon, not the prioritization of massing as much relevant content onto our servers as possible in the interest of preservation and legitimization. (I have had, several times, conversations with people that led with, “I need you to consider if the values of this group are a good fit for you,” which is not a conversation that could happen on AO3, with its different goals.) Because we all agree on these central values when beginning our work, all of us--members and moderators alike--can generally work together to achieve our goals. That doesn’t mean that we always agree! The recent discussion of our AI policy is an example of discussions that got pretty intense at times. But I saved each of the three drafts of the policy as it evolved via the Wayback Machine, and those red comments at the top? Were by and large based on member contributions during the two-week discussion period. They, not the mods, were the reason the document ended up as complete and good as it was. But again, this can be done on a group that has, at most, several dozen active, participating members at one time. It is not possible on a site the size of AO3.

And again, if I disappointed the expectations of the SWG members? I know they would go elsewhere, and that is a pretty strong motivator to keeping them at the forefront of every decision I make.

if you have any advice for folks who want to open their own archive or who just mod a large discord etc etc.

I do! I wrote about the tech side of starting an archive here. Unfortunately, it’s pretty bleak right now, but I have hope that that could change. My exhortation to those dissatisfied with what’s going on with the OTW right now is to consider supporting small fandom sites and web development projects in any way you can, whether that’s donating money, providing tech skills or otherwise volunteering, or just making sure that you signal-boost and promote these projects when you can. (Seriously, when I see people link to a fanwork on the SWG instead of AO3, I want to send them a Valentine.) I am now less than three weeks from summer break and plan to spend that summer break trying to make the tech options less bleak. Watch this space.

As far as the non-tech side, I’d suggest first of all deciding who you want to be. What are your values? As I’ve said at several points in this (very long) post, the SWG values civility and inclusivity. We look at everything through that lens. That doesn’t mean that moderation decisions are made easy, but they are certainly made easier and more consistent/fair.

Once you know your values, be clear in what you expect from members/participants and hold them to it. Writing conduct guidelines is hard and is usually an ongoing process, but it is time well spent and, if done  conscientiously, makes running a site or community much easier. It can be easy to be overwhelmed by a sense of urgency (“we needed to build this yesterday!!”) but spending a bit of time on this step will save you time and headache later.

Next: Moderation is not a dirty word. We, as Fandom, have gotten so used to these large, sprawling spaces like AO3 and Tumblr that are essentially unmoderated that we’ve forgotten that there was a time in the not-so-distant past where moderation was the norm. Again, that is not a panacea--there were plenty of awful “moderated” communities--but if you moderate with your community values and expectations in mind, you begin to build the culture you want to see.

Probably the biggest piece of advice I have is to think hard on the question: Do you really want to do this? Running a website or even a large community is a commitment. I do not have biological children, but I have pets and I have been a foster parent, and do you know what is the closest to a parenting commitment that I have? The SWG.

It is a lot of work, the work is often hard, it is usually thankless or invisible, and the buck stops with you. There is no higher-up to pass a responsibility off to. I have lost many evenings and days off to issues that arose out of nowhere with the site and that it was my responsibility to fix. Not gonna lie, that can be a bummer, and it’s worth asking if you’re up for it. A lot of small Tolkien archives died because of a combination of AO3, the ending of Yahoo! Groups, and plain loss of interest in those in charge of running them. This has contributed to the situation we are now in, where AO3 is the only option for many people, who are now not sure that they want all of their eggs in that basket, and yet here we are. Just like it’s 2008 again, and we’re wringing our hands over the lack of viable choices.

So just like taking on any large commitment, make sure you have what supports you need in place (who can help you? who would you rely on as a comod or coadmin? what are your limitations and how can you account for those in your plans?), do your due diligence to set your values and expectations, and then ... you do it.

Remember, it can be done. Many, many fans have done it before, and we can do it again.

#the otw mess #small archives #this post is long af sorry

[olderthannetfic]

Escapade Dance Party 2023 Writeup 2/3

Here is the playlist I ended up with this year, plus my commentary:

First Half

Good Omens | Running in the 90's by Maria Morningstar

Good Omens is so tricky. On the one hand, there are a billion fantastic vids, many with editing that's better than this one. On the other, a lot of the preferred music is syrupy and slow, and GO fans are actively seeking out vids and have already seen many of the ones intended for cons in the English-speaking world.

I wanted something high-energy to open the dance with, and this ridiculous song fit the bill. It woke people up and got them noticing the music had started.

I don't know Maria, but her channel has a bunch of things with cyrillic titles, so I'm guessing she's Russian. That meant a higher chance of this vid being new to people at Escapade.

Tubthumping by Aaronantium

To be perfectly honest, I do not care about this anime, but I was chilling with Aaron at Vidders Chat and discussing my plans, and he offered to make me a vid for his vampire fandom.

I don't generally accept premieres because it means wrangling more people and dealing with uncertainty, but Aaron suggested this song, and it's always a crowd pleaser as is the vid everyone makes to it. This fandom is also unusually perfect for said joke, featuring as it does a repeatedly dying vampire who… well… gets back up again.

Actually, despite it not being most people's fandom, I think this vid got one of the biggest laughs and reactions of anything during the party.

Kirk/Spock | I Knew You Were Trouble by mogo nit

K/S is a perennial favorite with con attendees—more TOS but AOS too. I don't recall why I was specifically looking for it this year. Probably, it ranked best out of things people mentioned on their site profiles.

This is an old-ass vid from 10 years ago, so if people have seen it, they probably haven't seen it lately. It's also a song I love, cliched though it might be for vids.

Word of Honor - Wenzhou - Hit and Run by CelestialMoonDragon

I knew I wanted to include WoH, both for its many fans and for people still dragging their feet about checking out Asian live action m/m stuff. The fandom has a wealth to choose from from vidders all over the globe. The big issue was simply finding vids that weren't too plastered with show audio.

When I heard this song choice, however, I knew it was the one. WoH has some unusual genre elements for wuxia, specifically all the central government focus where wuxia characters usually stay away from politics. The song really highlights that aspect. Those lyric matches! Genius!

【夜访吸血鬼】【莱斯特】【Young and Beautiful】献给我最心中最美艳的吸血鬼——莱斯特 by 欧阳夏右

Obviously, if I was going to celebrate the new IWTV, I couldn't leave out the old movie!

This is a brilliant song choice given what happens to Lestat. It's interesting to me how many Chinese vidders use music I know well. It's always fun to see what they do with a Western source and Western music, and I think bilibili is largely uncharted territory for most Escapade attendees.

【The Sentinel】【Jim/Blair】It's consuming me（Lash视角）美剧-哨兵 同人mv by ozakikaoru

The Sentinel still has monofannish fans, but covering it for a dance party is a pain in the butt. I generally end up scraping the depths of Bilibili, and this year was no exception…

So how excited was I to find this refreshing and freaky take! This audio is apparently from some short film and has become something of a meme amongst vidders, but I hadn't heard it before and I don't think anyone at the con had either.

It's always extra surprising and wonderful to find a more serious and darker vid for fandoms everyone associates with camp and retro cheese. The Sentinel fans I included it for were blown away too. It's apparently a pretty good representation of the episode in question.

Forever Knight Vampires | Darkness, Darkness | Gothic 90s by knightvision1228

Because I had the vampires theme, I made a huge list of vampire fandoms to try to include. Forever Knight was one of my fandoms of the 90s and very popular with het shippers and slashers alike. Finding a vid that didn't look like bad VHS transfer, however, was easier said than done.

This one won out for featuring a rare song from the FK soundtrack that was never released. The vid also showcases the main trio instead of just being Nick/Jeanette het.

Megatron x Optimus (Song: Wrecking Ball) by Mellew

We have a lot of Transformers fans, and it's always so hard to find something I can play in the dance party… well… something that's not a 10-minute compilation of explicit fan art to horny reggaeton. Personally, I'm all about that reggaeton, but I've been looking for actual shipper vids that are a little more representative and a little less likely to make the fans combust in embarrassment.

When I heard the song choice… well… no other vid could compete.

But don't let the literalism and hilarious if one-note joke fool you: this is a fantastically edited vid that makes excellent use of the song's varying tempo.

And yes, I made sure to loudly say "WHY ARE YOU ALL LAUGHING? THIS IS A VERY SERIOUS VID" as the vid started.

BakuDeku AMV - Lucky Strike by caliowl 333

Do I watch BNHA? No. Do people at the con watch BNHA? No. Do antis hate this ship? Absofuckinglutely YES!

I love stupid shonen nonsense, and this fandom provides it in spades. It took a while to find an AMV that wasn't littered with not only show audio but dubbed show audio. (What am I, an animal?!)

I also just really love this song for dance parties.

Dancing on My Own - Robyn (Izzy Hands Edit) by auxiliarywardrobe

OFMD is another tough one. It's not due to a lack of vids: if anything, there are too many. But so many aren't suitable for a dance party and many are already familiar to people.

While I did find this on AO3 (honestly nearly a requirement for finding non-show audio vids in this fandom), it hadn't gotten any attention from people I recognized as an Escapade type crowd.

I loved the indignity of pairing Izzy with this ridiculous song. OFMD was a little anodyne for me in some ways, so the sleazy obnoxiousness of Izzy is a welcome antidote to all of the fluff and angst vids about the main ship.

At the same time, I don't particularly ship Izzy with anybody. I enjoy watching him be miserable, and the song is actually quite a good lyrical match for his impotent frustration.

Do You Wanna Touch Me? [Fanvid] by resurrecho

Okay, this one is cheating on my own rules. I'm sure people had every opportunity to see it… But it's also a femslash vid that is very, very horny.

This one's for you ladies tired of ~dewy flower~ soft bullshit!

Cult of Dionysus - Leverage OT3 - Eliot/Parker/Hardison by leverage brain worms

Leverage remains a perennial favorite and the new show had attendees talking,  but people often request the same tired old vid choice. I went looking for something that hadn't been played at every con over and over.

I liked that this vid was relatively recent. The song with poly lyrics was a fun touch.

HeiHua FMV~|| Hei Ye falling for the Thorny Flower by Black Flower

When I saw this vid, I said to myself: I don't know who they are, but I ship them!

AND GUESS WHAT? SEEING THE SHOW DID NOT CHANGE THAT OPINION!

Yes, this vid is directly responsible for me watching all these DMBJ adaptations.

I knew a lot of Escapade attendees were vaguely familiar with Reunion because of Zhu Yilong, but I didn't think most had checked out the rest of DMBJ, and this vid was so diametrically opposite of both that adaptation and the vibe of the big ship that I knew I just had to include it.

But seriously, this vidder actually has an excellent grasp of narrative. Now that I've seen the show, some of this stuff is repurposed and out of context, but you wouldn't know it from the eyelines.

Cover Me - A Fanvid by TinTurtle

Ah, Pros. The Professionals has the most dedicated fans at Escapade, hands down. They keep the con afloat and keep their fandom vibrant even after decades. Finding a dance vid to include for them, however, is a bit of a trial.

Realistically, I'm never going to find a vid they haven't all seen unless I make it myself, so I look for songs with a better beat than the typical old fandom vids tend to have.

The Fanged Four - Play with Fire (BTVS/ATS) by SlayerVid

People were talking about the Buffyverse again this year. Was it an anniversary of some kind? I can't recall, but it's a big nostalgia fandom for a lot of attendees, and it's one of the bigger vampire fandoms, so I wanted to include it.

While there used to be a billion vids for Buffy and Angel, only a fraction of them are findable online now. I went hunting for something not by a con regular and with visual quality that would play okay on a projector.

This is a great song for its grinding beat, and the vid is both recent and features a variety of vampire characters.

BL | Mobu ✘ Kikuchi S2 || So What by rosenana708

I suspect I found it by looking for Kei x Yaku vids, but as soon as I spotted it, I knew it was a must-have.

Yes, this is full of stupid show audio, but too bad: Nobody at a slash or BL con should be allowed to escape without knowing that A Man Who Defies the World of BL exists.

The Locked Tomb | Fences (SPOILERS!) by peachy 💕

This fandom was the latest hot flavor for many and f/f to boot. I was skeptical about finding a vid, but what do you know!

die for you / beyond evil by butillmissyou

After being pimped in by last year's vid find, I knew I wanted to include it again.

This music grabbed me by the throat. I'd never even heard of LÉON, but the soulful sound is perfect for this fandom.

Personal Jesus by killabeez

I desperately wanted a vid to this song. The cover isn't my fave, but I couldn't turn down the combo of a vampire fandom and this classic.

True, Killa isn't exactly obscure to anyone at Escapade, but this is a relatively less seen older vid and excellently edited.

BTS Vampire FMV | Bad Things (True Blood OP) by GoldenArmy7

I'm so clever.

Yes, this is mostly here so I can follow the True Blood vid with one to the True Blood theme song. Also to inflict BTS on people.

● Ichiro + Shiro | 'dope' (KeixYaku: Dangerous Partners FMV) by xXScarshadowXx

And now some BTS music, LOL

Sadly no longer online from what I can tell

WEDNESDAY | “Sweet But Psycho” Netflix Serie [HD] by SHIK

There are like thirty vids to this fandom using this song. This one blew the others out of the water.

I'll be honest, everyone was trying to push Wednesday/Enid around the time of the con, and that ship is the most boring thing you could possibly take away from this show. I wanted a vid that showcased what's actually fun here, which is not sucking all the creepy out of an Addams Family adaptation, for fuck sake.

ALIEN SUPERSTAR | Wanda & Scarlet Witch by LittleLaceBoots

MCU is still big with attendees, but it's so sprawling that knowing what to choose is hard. I found this music choice quite interesting for how it showcases the weird schtick of this particular show.

A Cowboy's Love by lilly_the_kid

If there's one AO3 vidder I will always play, it's lilly_the_kid! I wanted something for Star Wars, and I wanted it to be slash. This classic and ridiculous vid fit the bill.

Is it appropriate for a dance party? It is IF I SAY IT IS!

Boss Bitch | Lan Wangji (陈情令 The Untamed FMV) by slowparade

Everyone vids this song, but this example is particularly great!

I like aspects of The Untamed a lot. Sadly, those aspects do not include the central ship. I'm always on the hunt for vids that actually work for me. This take on Lan Wangji is hilarious.

Geraskier - Fine By Me by CainnetreIt delights me to find vids to other versions of popular canons. This is such a classic slash vid. It's not particularly danceable, but it's so fun that I wanted to include it, so it needed to go at the end of a section. It's the kind of song you wave your beer around to.

[gen-is-gone]

having some Weird Thoughts currently about tumblr's place in the modern internet ecosystem, vis a vis twitter melting down, macebook/feta losing its shit, and a bunch of folks joining up here either for the first time in years or the first time at all.

namely, I really do believe that automattic/tumblr's current leadership is very very slowly and very very carefully implementing a bunch of changes in preparation to bring back adult content in its entirety, as part of a larger scheme to try to monetize without resorting to data scraping (which is basically impossible to do here the way it is on other sites anyway). it certainly seems like that's what they're doing, between post+, the tip jar, community labels, and the ability to make posts non-rebloggable. obviously these features have plenty of use outside of adult content (except maybe post+, which makes literally no sense outside of sex work), but what they seem to be doing is building up a logistical means by which to allow adult content, and allow it to be monetizable.

and like, no, I don't think tumblr the company is Our Best Friend; yes it is a company that needs to profit under capitalism to survive, but so is everything, and there is genuinely something funny and weird (in a very stupid, ironic way) about tumblr as a social media site operating in the 2020s. It just legitimately doesn't have the capacity to scrape data and sell targeted ads the way the giants of the modern internet do, both because it is a product of an earlier age when that wasn't yet a standard profit mechanism, and also just 'cause like. tumblr's fucking code is shit. I'm sure it's a lot better than it was circa 2012, but jokes about tumblr's legendary goof goof dildo spaghetti code used to be really common, and anyone who's been here longer than a couple months either remembers or at least has heard of just how weird and fucked up and bad the site's basic functionality used to be. Legitimately, the reason why tumblr feels so nice rn compared to the heyday is as much because it's just so genuinely more functional than it was ten years ago as it is because there's so comparatively few people.

but point being: if tumblr under yahoo had been handled with any semblance of basic competence, they might've seen which way the wind was blowing w/r/t targeted ads and data sales and we might have an entirely different, much worse hellsite than we actually have. or it probably would've died because yahoo would've actually fully ran it into the ground, more likely. but also it probably wouldn't have worked because the assumption of anonymity is so much more baked into the incredibly weird, broken, decade and half's worth of layered bullshit code that even if anyone previously could've realized that the smartest way to make money would be to scrape and sell data, they'd never have been able to implement it.

and so we have the tumblr of today: weird, unmarketable, ungovernable, proudly cringe, and deeply resistant to the mainstream. so not actually that much different to tumblr circa 2012, if a lot smaller and more battle-hardened.

but like. by the standards of what's available on the modern internet, tumblr is honestly one of the best, most versatile spaces still standing with any amount of a userbase? straight up, the dominance of twitter and instagram has made a lot of people really oddly perplexed by the concept of being able to write detailed essays in the body of a post, let alone the idea of dozens of images per post, or audio like, at all. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of things about tumblr that I wish were different or better that just aren't compatible with how tumblr is set up at a base level as an LJ user every day I miss threaded comments and LJ-style cuts I LAMENT them I tell you, but of the options out there, tumblr is fucking wild in what it can offer. but I don't just mean for artists and fandom and weird little gremlins like those of us who've been here this whole time, I mean like. fuck. like.

watching the White House's twitter account try to lay out complex policy initiatives in 280-characters is fucking painful sometimes, and yet we've all gotten used to it in the past decade plus. leaving aside the fact that it's bonkers and deeply unsettling and generally bad that world leaders are beholden to usamerican for-profit corporations to communicate in general, of all of the socmed sites out there, it's kind of insane that twitter is the one that got big in the official political scene. (don't get me wrong: twitter is genuinely quite useful for disseminating quick bursts of information in crisis, and it's been fucking brilliant for coordinating in both natural disasters and evolving political/social disruption. but it's terrible at detailed, nuanced information sharing)

I don't know where I'm going with all of this necessarily, and I think twitter eating shit and going down in flames is pretty terrible for global democracy even as it is also on a surface level funny as shit. I don't want tumblr to replace twitter, or facebook, or insta, or tiktok, in being the place where everyone lives online. I want tumblr to stay as the little gremlin art ho fandom clown car, and lbr, it probably will. It'll probably never be what twitter is, for better or for worse. who knows if it'll ever be what it was in 2012 again. I like the ecosystem the way it is these days, with way fewer users, most of whom have been around the block more times than we can count, and are too jaded to start shit anymore. but tumblr needs money to survive, and as much as we're all enjoying posting cringe, tumblr's twitter is pulling off a masterwork balancing act luring twitter users over here, and it's working.

tumblr needs to do what it can to survive. we still don't know if all of this effort staff has been putting in these past ~10 months or so will be enough; the writing has been on the wall for years now that if tumblr doesn't find a way to financially justify itself, it won't survive another sale. automattic took a maybe unprecedented (and extremely positive, imo) risk this past year, and has been trusting current staff to listen to user input and implement positive changes, including finding ways to monetize without invading users' privacy, which who knows if the site even has the capability of doing anyway, even now. if we are all very lucky, and are willing to pitch in and treat this place like our community, we might even collectively succeed, and prove to the wider internet that it is possible to run a popular, high-traffic website without compromising user security. if tumblr is doing what I think they're doing, and very carefully building up a secure, socially, financially, and legally defensible way to support adult content on a site with american servers and a place on the app store in the 2020s, then we're off to the races and who knows where we'll go. if twitter does actually implode beyond salvaging, a huge chunk of the world will feel its loss, and many people, including all the normies and politicians and your mom, could very well cast their gaze to the website people wrote off as in its death throes four years ago. they probably won't, but as I was just vividly reminded earlier today, the White House did, in fact, have a tumblr once upon a time. who knows what the future holds.

but John Green deserves an apology, you weeaboo shits.

#tumblr #twitter #important blue checkmark #tumblr crabs #twitpocalypse #our cyberpunk future #megan whines into the empty abyss of cyberspace

[marveltrumpshate]

The Marvel Trumps Hate 2022 auction has officially begun! View auctions and place bids at marveltrumpshate.com.

Remember, we have 205 creators and 343 auctions offering all types of works and all types of universes, fandoms, ships, and characters. Follow the suggestions below to find the perfect auction(s) for you and figure out your bidding strategy:

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Filter auctions through several different ways (work type, rating, universe, character, ship, and gen relationship), using the tags on our tag list and our tips on finding specific auctions such as auctions offering "teen-rated 616 Steve/Tony" or "all ships in the GotG fandom" on our search guide. You can also look at special auction categories we spotlighted here

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#marvel trumps hate #mth 2022 #announcement #auction week

[autistichalsin]

Don't know if this helps but I think a lot of people (esp neurotypical ppl) see multi paragraph responses as hostile or confrontational, bc length = very strong feelings. Ppl (subconsciously) emotionally view them as ranting. I blame the fact most ppl communicate online through social media that favors short, punchy/glib comments. Even multi tweet threads are a bunch of short comments in a row; nobody talks on forums where conversations span weeks anymore. I think that's why I don't see long essay response chains on Tumblr as often as I did pre 2018.

Oh, also, ppl not understanding a lot of non-neurotypical folk's communication where you prefer to make absolutely sure you're both getting across the point you want to make and saying everything you want to say. And since the only way to do that is use words (which are such terribly misunderstood things) you use as many as you need to. And then ppl see multiple paragraphs and instantly get defensive.

I still don't think that means you need to change the way you communicate though. Someone can always ask you to clarify your intent after all. Just thought maybe I could offer insight on that one part you questioned. My best friend is autistic and we actually had to have a long conversation about communication bc I was misinterpreting her verbosity for irritation, so it's something I had to think a lot about. Anyway! The tone indicators can probably help, hopefully.

(Tone: appreciative/thoughtful)

That's a good point too, because it has become less popular (and suspiciously right at the same time TikTok became the preferred socmed site). I remember when multi paragraph responses were just kind of the standard. Like I'm a Fandom Old, I've been around since Livejournal and I was one of the first 10,000 users on AO3 (on my first account).... this is all new etiquette.

TOTALLY agree about the autism thing like. Using a lot of words makes it less likely I'll be misunderstood... until now I guess lol.

I appreciate you very much, thank you for this ask! I won't change how I communicate PER SE, though I am probably not going to be posting disagreeing posts to anyone but moots again for a while because uh... there are definitely people reading my stuff in bad faith who will be waiting for their next chance to twist my words lol

[recentadultburnout]

Info for writer in Thai series fandom: Buddhist ceremony

Buddhism has a principle called "Ovada-patimokkha", which is sometimes called the "heart of Buddhism." In the Ovada-patimokkha, there are three main principles we see as a basic lesson and talk about a lot.

1. Cease to do evil (abstain from sin) 2. Cultivate that which is good (make good deeds) 3. Purify the heart (clear your mind from sorrow or sinful thought)

By trying to follow the teachings of this principle, it leads to an attempt to do good deeds by actions that can be seen. It consists of 3 things:

1. alms: the giving of one's possessions for the benefit of others 2. Precepts: keeping the body and speech in order. 3. Prayer: training the mind to be calm and wise.

The Buddhist ceremony is where we will do those 3 things together with other Buddhists. Sometimes it happens as a national event and sometimes as a personal event between groups of families and friends.

The ceremony that is organized for personal reasons can be categorized according to the occasion into two types.

1. Auspicious ceremonies such as merit making, ordaining, topknot shaving, getting married, moving to a new house, and so on.

2. Inauspicious ceremony such as the death of parents, teachers, or relatives. When a Buddhist dies, their family will make merit at the funeral for 7 days, 50 days, or 100 days depending on their ability and determination. They will also make merit on the anniversary of the death of loved ones. Or if other bad things happen, people will also organize a ceremony to try to make the misfortune go away or to alleviate the sorrow. 

I will not go into detail about how you should go and organize one yourself. But if you want any details in particular, please do let me know. Except if you are really about to organize one by yourself, then please consult with someone else, not me. I usually just do what others do, so I kind of know what the ceremony consists of, but I never remember the order in which things happen. 

The ceremony will begin after the monks we have invited arrive at the ceremony site, so that will be the first thing to happen. The organizer of the event will then light incense and candles and pray to the Triple Gem, followed by the churchwarden (makanayok) taking over for a while before the monks begin to chant.When the chant is over, the host will offer food and various equipment to the monks. 

Different things can have different meanings if you believe in superstition, so it can be a factor in what you choose as an offering, but I think it will be best to prioritize efficiency first when choosing what to offer or donate. Something like alcohol and accessories is forbit and if you include it, it can be considered as sin.

After the monks accept those things, they will bless and anoint/sprink holy water on the attendees. Then the ceremony is kind of done. 

When I attend a ceremony organized by my school, there is no lunch break because it will finish before that time, but if it is organized by my relative, the food offering will happen at lunch time (before 12 p.m. bc eating after 12 p.m. is against the rule for Thai monks), and we will offer other things after everyone eats lunch, and we will pour ceremonial water somewhere near the end.

If the one who organized the event requests the monks will preach on the requested topic, I'm not sure when but they will. 

Other things

Attendees are expected to chant some parts along with the monks. I never sure which part and just copy someone who sit near me.😅

pouring ceremonial water is a symbol of the intention of giving the merits that we have done to those who have passed away. We will pour water into the ground or pour it into some sort of container and then into the ground or at the base of the tree afterward. When there weren't enough jugs, many people have a habit of touching one another, starting from the one who has it when it's time to pour the water in order to participate.

Ordination can occur from many intentions and occasions. Some people might do it with the intention of being a monk for life, while others might do it only for a short period on a special occasion. The occasion can be when a close relative or a benefactor passes away and he enters the priesthood while the body is being cremated, before he gets married, when something bad happens, or to make his parents happy. Sometimes it was even to redeem oneself. When a person does a bad thing and feels guilty, they might choose to compensate by ordination and, in some cases, they will do it as a life-long commitment. It was also a way for the poor to give their children access to an education in the past. Because when a child becomes a novice monk, they get to learn how to read and write. Most Buddhist men will be ordained at least once in their lives. 

5 and 8 precepts. 5 precept is to abstain from taking life, stealing, sexual misconduct, false speech, alcohol or other intoxicants. 8 precepts is the same as 5 precepts but with 3 more, which are don't eat after noon, don't partake in entertainment such as dancing, singing, and also anything related to making yourself pretty, and don't use a high and soft bed. 

Index

#thai culture

[tasteleeknow]

hihi jade !! i’m fairly new to tumblr and wanted to ask what’s the best way to reblog a post? i want you and my other favourite writers to get the attention + support you deserve but i’m still quite not sure on how it works ><

hihi !! that's really nice to of you make the effort to understand ! i'll put a little tutorial under the cut for you and anyone else that would like to learn. this is one of the best ways you can support writers on tumblr and i really encourage readers to stop and read this !

main or side? if you have no problem reblogging fics onto your main blog you can skip this section! this is just for people who don't feel comfortable putting fic on their blog for whatever reason.

tumblr has a thing called sideblogs where you can make secondary blogs on the same account. no one else looking at that blog will know it's attached to your main unless you tell someone. it's a great option for people who want a blog only for fic they read. the downsides is that you can only reply to posts from your main and send asks off anon from your main. but it's a great option for reblogging fic.

on mobile: just go to your blog then press your name and then 'create a new blog'

on web: click the profile icon then 'new'

how to reblog this part is easy! the best way to help writers is to reblog any fic you read and enjoyed. leaving a little comment in the tags is a lovely bonus and i'll show you how to do that soon. first i'll show you how to reblog really quickly with no comments. it's as easy at liking!

on mobile: at the bottom of a post, HOLD the reblog button. the icons of all your blogs will appear. DRAG then RELEASE over the blog you want to reblog the post to. your main or any sideblog you've made. that's it!

on web: hold the e key on your keyboard and icons from your blogs will pop up. then hover over the icon you want to reblog to and click. same deal as mobile. will reblog to the blog you clicked, quick and easy.

adding feedback/tags this is the bonus step that will make any writer's day. i read every single comment people leave in the tags of their reblogs! here's how you can add comments to your reblogs!

bonus: using tags is also how you can organise your blog. if you add tags like 'minho' or 'favourite' and then search them on your blog later, you can find your favourite fics. much easier to organise than likes.

on mobile: press the reblog button instead of holding it.

where it says '+ add tags to help people find your post', click and add any and all thoughts about the fic you just read. it can be a little keysmash or it can be an essay. adore anything you feel like offering. type a sentence or word then hit return on your phone keyboard then type the next word or sentence. and so on and so on. (this is also where you can put your organisational tags). then when you're done press reblog.

on web. click the reblog button. you'll get a popup like this. type your tags. all your thoughts. then any tags to help you find the post later. hit reblog!

bonus: if you really do want to write an ESSAY (always welcome). this is where you can put your thoughts into the caption instead of tags. where i've written 'long comments/essays here' on mobile screenshot and where it says 'go ahead, put anything' on web.

when should you reblog? whenever you finish a fic that you enjoyed! tumblr works by sharing posts with others through reblogging. when you follow people any posts they reblog will show on your dashboard. it's great for organically sharing content without algorithms like other sites use. fanfiction is all about fandom and community. writers write. and readers share and comment on the writing they enjoy. healthy ecosystem!

what are likes for then? exactly what it says on the tin. hey, i liked this! a lot of people use them as bookmarks. i can only see this being a good use of it if you also reblog fics once you've read them. i can only imagine how many liked posts some people have. they must have to scroll for ages to find anything. i use it just as a like button. literally, i liked this! or to just show support for my mutuals personal posts. if i find a fic i want to read later, i'll use it for that sometimes too.

what if i'm shy? firstly, tumblr is entirely anonymous. i don't know who you are and all i'm doing is reading whichever tags you've decided to add to my work. no one you know can judge you for the fic you read if you make a blog just for fic. and i'm certainly not judging you. i have anxiety myself, i understand the struggle. exposure therapy! just give it a go, see how you feel. i really feel you if you just make the effort to start doing it, you'll realise it really is okay! writers on here adore feedback and they'll appreciate you a lot for being a reader that reblogs and comments. reblogging with no comment to start off might help you ease into it.

writing takes a lot of time and effort. the only thing i've ever seen asked in return from the people that write is for you to let them know what you thought of it in the tags of a reblog! it's a very minor action compared to the time and effort it took to write the fic as well as the time and effort it took you to read it!

anyway, appreciate anyone who made the effort to read this and understand. readers who reblog and comment are the reason anyone is still on this site writing! ♡

ps. if you use desktop you can add the extension 'xkit rewritten' to chrome or firebox and use the feature quick reblog which makes tagging and reblogging even easier. the quick reblog feature looks like this. xkit rewritten is also how i make tag bundles that i can add to posts with one click instead of typing 20 tags out everytime i post a fic.

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