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#angst anon <3
angelprinz · 2 years
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Hi laven, idk if you remembered me but this is angst anon, just wanna say i missed you and fuck those people who's harassing you, i agree that your kinks can get dark sometimes but that's why you put warnings, if people or minors really want to read it and ignore the warnings it's not your fault anymore.
-sincerely angst anon
ANGST ANONNIE !!! i wuv you so much , they’re just silly don’t mind rhem n come gimmie a kiss!! of course i remember you i haven’t seen you on my blog in a while !!
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penvisions · 16 days
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Same angst loving anon here just to say that I finally caught up with your Din fic and the angst is just *(joel!)chef’s kiss* I’m looking forward to the next chapter
yo the way i absolutely grinned and giggled at (joel) chef's kiss when i saw the notification out of the corner of my eye while driving holy sh*t lol
lovely angst anon, thank you so much for being a fellow angst junky
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ky-landfill · 11 months
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kindly asking for bruce angst
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yukisshittyposts · 2 years
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Could you make a part two to the daddy issues with bakugou story? Like maybe deku or todoroki, or even kirishima take his place as a father figure and he has to deal with that? Like heavy angst on his part but hecka amount of fluff for the reader and daughter?
You asked and shall receive! :)
–> Part 1 to this imagine.
NOTE: I chose Todoroki for this request, hope that's alright.
Bakugou first sees you with him while he's on patrol. Kirishima is talking his ear off about something but his focus is on you and how you tuck a strand of your hair shyly behind your ear.
At first, he thinks it's a coincidence. You with... him. So, he doesn't think much of your meeting with Todoroki and soon enough, he forgets about it.
What makes him change his mind later, is the photos, taken by those nosy bastards and then, the multiple articles that flood his feed. They are everywhere. The articles, the photos of you and Todoroki eating dinner at some fancy restaurant, him giving you a bouquet of flowers and walking together in the park, him picking up your daughter from UA–
Wait... what?
Picking up your— his daughter, from UA?
What the fuck?!
Bakugou's wife tries to assure him that it's probably nothing and reminds him that he shouldn't care. And so what if his ex is dating again? He has a wife and a son who love him very much. He shouldn't care. He knows that. It's not like he doesn't love his wife or anything, but..
He does cares. He cares and he cares a lot because he regrets what he did to you sixteen years ago. He regrets leaving you. He was young, afraid and stupid and it's his fault that things are the way they are now. He acknowledges that. He'd hoped to talk things out with you and apologize but now with Todoroki...
It's not that he doesn't want you to be happy but now, how will he manage to apologize with Todoroki in the middle? How will he manage to make things right with you?
God knows how much he wants to make things right with your daughter but it's not like she allows him to. He tries and tries but to her, he's nothing but a stranger, a pest and everytime he calls to see how she's doing and she calls him "Bakugou-san", the pain doubles, especially when he first sees the photos of her and Todoroki spending time together.
Now that Todoroki's in the picture, will she start calling him dad instead?
He doesn't want to find out.
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whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!
this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!
warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her. 
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So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak. 
You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work 
you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then 
nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place. 
On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after
it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him. 
but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening. 
its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail. 
Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn
its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench. 
there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency. 
when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-
all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river
Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay 
“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.” 
he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself. 
but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything
its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found. 
Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there. 
Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames. 
“We’re gonna find her, but not there.” 
So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did. 
He became a smuggler because of it. 
Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way. 
But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course. 
The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him. 
But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles 
“You think she would have wanted this for you?” 
the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence. 
“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.” 
All he can do is nod. 
It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit. 
It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live. 
Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago. 
its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo” 
when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them. 
Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands. 
He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face. 
Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity. 
“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?” 
Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be. 
But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.
“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.” 
Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again. 
“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.” 
He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples. 
“One.” 
The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun. 
“Two”
Wait. No, they both do.
“Three.” 
Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins. 
“Four.” 
Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet. 
Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?” 
Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless. 
Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.
When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same. 
She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head. 
“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”
He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun. 
“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?” 
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#i had an idea of something similar for tommy but on outbreak night he uh. abandons you instead of getting separated from you#because. angst :D#people say nice things#this was incredibly generous of you anon thank you so so much!#i may get myself a little starbucks drink this week now because I havent had starbucks since like january 1st lol#joel reeling from taking in all this information and also realizing he suckerpunched HIS OWN KID#id like to apologize for all the grammatical issues with this. this is just a bulletpoint word vomit to get my thoughts on the page before-#-beginning the actual fic. also I have to do a midterm tonight and this is my treat to myself hehe#but yes. joel getting separated from his wife on outbreak night and having to accept that shes probably dead#meanwhile youve lived this entire life without him because you think HES dead ad raising your boys all on your own#which just- further digs into his insecurities about failing in his role as a protector#he couldn't save sarah. he can't save ellie and he couldn't even save you#he thinks about you pregnant and alone. fending for yourself in a world full of infected and raiders and his chest grows tight again#this is all followed by Ellie going >:O 'you KNOW THIS PSYCHO?'and then joel immediately snapping at her to WATCH HER MOUTH#because that kid has no filter and he has to explain that youre his wife#anyways joels wife is a badass mfer who also maybe has a little garden and some chickens that you and your boys take care of <3 yeah .#reunion tag#ill be using that for this specific couple because I dont have a fic title yet but if anybody has suggestions!
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anton-luvr · 1 month
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hiii! can i request sungchan as a boyfriend? for research purposes only i swear 🤓
tysmm i love you and yr blog sm ☹️
# HIM AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ; SUNGCHAN edition.
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⚝ bf!sungchan x fem!reader | fluff | bf au ⚝ note ; SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK but enjoy your research anon 🤭 and thank u so much!! you're so sweet :( + reqs are CLOSED !
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sungchan is so friendly and outgoing!!
gets along with almost everyone
and he's so considerate :(
takes the time to at least smile or wave hi at someone he doesn't even know
and that's how you got to know him!!
sungchan is also so clumsy
almost tripped over his own feet when he was walking up to you on your first date
and has broken multiple bowls and cups
also has spilled water on himself so many times, it could be a guinness world record
always gives you 100% of his attention!!
like you could literally breathe differently and sungchan would know something's up
always gives you 100% of everything
his attention, his affection, his love, everything
also a very realistic and practical person
like don't get him wrong, he absolutely loves you
but he has to remind you how (respectfully) broke you are to afford your fifth overpriced coffee of the week
now i'm not saying sungchan has toxic masculinity
but i think he sticks more to the traditional masculine role,, in a sense that he'll always be paying for you, protecting you (even when you're completely safe), driving you to places etc
he knows you're capable of doing it all by yourself, but he wants to do it for his girl himself <3
but along with the traditional masculine role, he's also not that good at expressing himself
so it'll take him some time to open up to you and tell you about his concerns and struggles
and even then, he'll tell you them one by one
but pretty soon, sungchan learns that he doesn't have to fear about opening up, because he knows that your love for each other wouldn't change no matter what.
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© anton-luvr, 2024.
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clemleur · 10 months
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as stoic as miguel is, i feel like it would absolutely break him inside seeing his babygirl upset aw!especially if she gets upset over things easily—
oh the way i just giggled omg omg omg
i just know in my heart miguel is such a softie, even in the comics he has a soft spot for lyla and the people of his town.
so it’s honestly no surprise that for you, he’s a complete and total goner.
and because he’s so soft towards you, it means he knows you inside and out.
you’re headstrong but sensitive and while you may be able to hold your own… sometimes the sensitivity wins.
and although miguel is good at many things, sensitivity sometimes isn’t one of them. and so it’s really no surprise when one day you catch him off guard on a bad day and he just snaps.
it’s silence for a moment or two, until he turns around and sees that heartbroken bambi look on your face and simultaneously feels guilt rush onto him.
“ oh muñeca don’t cry, don’t cry,” he repeats, rushing over to you to stop the tears.
and to add onto the small list of departments miguel desperately lacks in, emotions and comfort is not one of them.
so he does what he can remember from his past life.
he wraps his arms around you, the same way he did his wife when she was upset, and gently shush’s your, the way he did his daughter when she was injured.
miguel may not be the greatest at emotions but he’s very good at remembering.
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saviorellie · 10 months
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UR HEADCANONS ARE EVERYTHING I CAN’T.
maybe headcanons of ellie taking care of reader ? how she would react to you being hurt and/or sick ?
have a lovely day 💕💕💕
hi thank you so much !!!!!! you’re so sweet !!!! i don’t know if you specifically wanted roommate ellie or just ellie in general so i kinda did a little bit of both !! enjoy !!!
ellie taking care of reader headcannons.
pairing : ellie williams x reader
pov : second person , she/her pronouns
warnings : none i don’t think !!! just fluff !!!
notes : having the time of my life with these i’m so glad you guys are enjoying them !!!
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ellie would swear on her LIFE that she’s basically a doctor
(she has no fucking idea what she’s doing)
she just doesn’t want you to know that she’s worried and nervous so she’s just funny and silly and trying to make you laugh
(she’s definitely panicking)
she would try not to but !!! you’re normally so giggly and stuff around her so when you’re just :/ she gets nervous so BAD
ellie would panic like you were dying even if you had just sprained you ankle or had a cold or something
she’d (try to) cook you soup and ice your injury
she’s just be the sweetest ever :,)
“do you want me to run you a bath” “do you want me to bring you a blanket” “do you want me to-“
mind you she’s already running you the bath and bringing you the blanket she didn’t even need to ask
if you’re up and walking around, she is following you around like a puppy because she wants to make sure you’re not hurting or straining yourself
she would INSIST that she sleep on the couch so that if you wake up feeling sick or hurting she’ll be closer
if you even think about going to class or going on patrol she is shoving you back to bed
she just wants you to get better so you’ll be her happy, bubbly girl again :,(
ellie gets so sad when you’re sick or injured because you’re just not yourself :,((((
she’d drive you to your doctor’s office if she thought it was that bad
she’d pick up your prescription and make sure you’re taking it when the doctor told you to and drinking plenty of fluids
anything that will help you get back to being yourself
she’s so sweet and gentle with you
holding your hair and rubbing your back if you’re throwing up
(“let it out angel, it’s ok. i’m right here.”)
holding your hand while you take your medicine
(“see that wasn’t so bad was it? you did so good.”)
wrapping your injury with such care because she doesn’t want to hurt you even more
(“i’m so sorry i know it hurts, i’m trying to be gentle. please tell me if you need me to pause for a second.”)
if you’re crying, she’ll just hold you and rub your back and tell you just the sweetest things
(“i know, i’m so sorry. i wish i could take it away. you’re so strong, i love you so much.”)
when you’re finally FINALLY better, she could just jump with joy
she knows that you’ve been right there, but she’s missed you so much !!!!
she’s following you around like a puppy again but this time it’s because she can’t get enough of you
never get sick/injured ever again i don’t think ellie would be able to take it
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sorcerous-caress · 5 months
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For some Wyll angst, do you think you could write something where Tav is a tiefling and they're a bit insecure about their budding relationship with Wyll because he hates his devilish appearance so they're like “how could he possibly be attracted to me” (— Wyll girl dad anon)
Wyll with an insecure tiefling Tav
[Angst, comfort, image issues, tiefling Reader, nb!reader]
[Part of the Wyll's Week event]
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You really tried to not let it get to you.
Each time he made a demeaning comment about his new appearance.
Sneered at the reflection of his horns, ones just like yours.
The way he stiffened when someone would focus on his red eye with the black sclera, preferring they face the sending stone one instead.
He has every right to be upset about his appreance getting forcibly changed.
And yet, despite it all, every word dug into your heart as if they were told to you personally.
Devil, demon, hellspawn, the humans loathed your kind.
You thought he was different, when you saw him being so gentle with the tiefling kids.
But a human, will always be a human.
Fear of the unknown, of what lurks behind the curtains, it was always a great motivator for the human kind.
Your horns, your tail, your bright flaming eyes and colorful vibrant skin.
Things your own mother celebrated in you as a kid.
Things your own father boosted about with pride.
Things that once were beautiful.
Marked you as a monster to the world.
Even when you fell in love with this world, left the safe nest of your own people to go explore.
it never loved you back.
So why would he love you back?
You don't remember when it started, but slowly, eventually, your beautiful reflection in the mirror twisted and cracked everyday.
Until you too, could only see the monster the other claimed you to be.
You thought he could see the beauty in you, that you too have a soul.
You were a fool.
Why would he see that when he can't see it in himself? Why would he love you when he is clearly disgusted by the idea of being like you.
You thought humans were pretty, plain yes, but pretty in their simplicity.
And even when he lost his resemblance to his own kin, you still thought that he was pretty.
Charming, beautiful, mesmerising, so many words could describe Wyll and fail to give him justice.
The lovely horns that felt like they were the missing piece to yours, the mapping of his skin with the ridges and pumps that made him even more sharper.
He clearly thought differently.
And so to protect yourself, you took a step back.
Distaned your heart, pulled back your curtains.
Wyll noticed it of course, your sudden change of heart.
But like any proper gentleman, he never addressed it, never felt like he had the right to when the two of you barely even shared a kiss.
You couldn't avoid him forever.
And so he waited until the celebration to approach you, to open the topic.
He was delicate with it, always knew how to spin his words correctly.
You were kind, always knew how to evade a topic politely.
An endless dance that was growing tiring as the night went on, as people retired to their tents.
Leaving just you and Wyll.
His flirting, words that once fluttered your heart, stung like a needle through it instead.
How could he possibly be attracted to you?
And you told him so, as you were getting fed up with this whole situation.
Told him to drop the act, he doesn't have to pretend to find you not hideous just because you're the group leader.
There was genuine suprise in Wyll's eyes, a flash of disbelief.
And for a moment the mask dropped, his charming flamboyant words that are usually dressed up were bare and forward instead.
Asking why do you think he's pretending
Why would he ever find you hideous.
You were more confused by the second, is he feigning innocence? Or is he making fun of you?
Does he think you're a fool?
The dome collapsed and the walls cracked as your heart poured out all of the pain it contained inside, each and every one of his passing comments that were ingrained in your brain like a parasite digging at your skull whenever you thought you had a chance.
Mocking you for thinking a monster can be anything but a monster, for thinking a human can see humanity in others.
As you recalled every word you were a witness to, Wyll was horrifed by the end of it.
Of himself.
The raging flames of anger amidst your chest weren't rejected by him, but welcomed as he stepped into the flames and didn't attempt to forcefully douse them.
Instead, he apologied.
To you, for everything he said, for his naive ignorance, for being too obsorbed in his own view of what makes a human a human to truly comprehend what he was condeming.
Who he was condemning.
For it wasn't the devils he ended up cursing, but the innocent tieflings he was attempting to save.
How unaware he was in his blinded rage, damming the ones he was trying to protect.
Hurting the one person he loved.
Love.
For you were not a monster in his eyes, you were love, pure in essence, raging flames in passion, beautiful in core.
He confessed how he almost didn't believe his eyes when he saw you, almost questioned reality. For how could one person put the sun to shame? How could one person rival the moon in grace?
And again, he apologiesed.
The night ended quietly.
And you noticed how Wyll lingered more and more on his own reflection.
Looked at his own horns the same way he admired yours when he thought no one was looking.
Traced the ridges on his face, gently.
And then you noticed it, a single charm.
A subtle gold trinket that one puts at the end of their horn.
Strangely, he only wore one, yet you were sure they came in a pair.
At the end of that day, you found the matching charm inside your tent with a letter underneath.
Your eyes scanned the paper, taking in the carefully written lines, the cursive words.
You held the charm in the other hand.
And nothing ever, could compare to Wyll's smile the next day as he saw you wearing it.
Although he would object, for he claims your own smile, sharp teeth and all, would make the flowers bloom in adoration.
And in a way, you were starting to see your own face again, your own reflection again.
The same could be said for Wyll, for his own monster too, quietly went to bed whenever you were around.
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fatuismooches · 7 months
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Thinking about fragile s/o suddenly going to dottore hugging n sitting on his lap n mumbling about after they die hes gonna replace them with someone else and forget about them 😭😭 just s/o being so depressing n insecure with their illness
-🤠
Fragile reader angst part 274892 guys ❤️ GOD DAMN IT. IT HURTS. It was the middle of the night, at some ungodly hour. And you hadn't slept a wink despite having gone to sleep hours ago. Tossing and turning, fixing your pillow dozens of times, kicking off the blankets, and pulling them up again. But to no avail. Nothing could hope to give you peace of mind. Not when your thoughts were so loud. This was a common occurrence, you losing sleep from not just your illness, but the horrible thoughts your illness caused you. You hated not being able to do anything for yourself. You hated having to receive help for everything. You hated being useless. You hated being looked down upon. You hated having to stand next to Dottore like this. You hated him having to waste precious time and resources on you when he could be pursuing far more interesting endeavors. You hate the way he looks at you as if you're the loveliest person his wise eyes have ever looked at, when you couldn't help but disagree. You hated the fact that there were so much people out there better than you, for him too. You hated...
Quickly, you threw the covers off and pulled yourself out of bed. Working yourself up like this always made you feel worse and unbearingly hot, close to tears. Yet it always seemed to happen anyway. But this time instead of weeping to yourself you just wanted to see Zandik. You needed to, otherwise you may not survive the night. He's immediately alarmed when he sees you in his office, surprised as well you managed to dodge any of his segments. When he inquires as to why you're here at this time, your only response is to shut the book he was writing in and physically take the pen out of his hand, indicating you want his full attention. And then you climb onto his lap, Zandik's arms supporting you as you buried your face into his chest... mumbling some things so quietly he wouldn't have heard you if he didn't focus his hearing on you. Things that make him utterly confused. Replace? Another person? Forget? Most importantly, you, die? He can't wrap his head around it, such nonsense. First of all, nothing else in this world could ever hope to be even a fraction of what you are to him. Your intelligence, personality, looks... anyone being close to you is preposterous. Foolish. Even if you happened to be erased from Irminsul he shall never forget you. And you shall not die. He's declared it a number of times. He downright refuses to accept that outcome. Seeing Zandik vehement about anything other than his research is rare, but when it comes to this topic he is rather forceful about his ideology.
When you peer up at him after his words, only replying with a small "really?" he sees that your eyes look so, so tired. He wishes he knew how to make it better. But he doesn't. Though his confident "of course" makes your stiffened body slack against him, as you retreat to nuzzling his chest again. And soon enough, you're asleep. You're fine, for now. But you won't be tomorrow. Or the day after that. Tenderly, he lifts you and carries you to his own bedroom. Il Dottore doesn't know what to do. Things won't get better immediately. But they will one day. So what he'll always do is alleviate your pain whenever he can, even if it'll never be enough, for he loves you so.
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brisquad-unit-4402 · 11 months
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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
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foolsocracy · 2 days
Note
I can't help but notice you haven't posted any angst in a while and I'm suspicious
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whipped this one up just for u anon
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sunnylands-world · 1 year
Note
So I’d like to request a Draco mafia fanfic. Where someone disrespects the reader and it angers him.
FINE LINE
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Pairing: Mafia draco x fem reader
Summary: Draco is a far man he hears bullshit all day but they cross a fine line when it comes to you...
Word count: 729
Warning: language, offense things are said about females [not by Draco], mentions of blood, use of a gun
Universe: mafia
A/n: okay I was supposed to post this at three in the morning but I fell asleep before I could 😭 anyway hope you like it I loved this idea and I had so much fun with writing it so thank you anon and please SHOW SUPPORT IF YOU READ THIS
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Draco was never interested in the conversation that took place during these meetings. He just needed the deal, but occasionally he'd run into these talkative bitches who wanted to drink whiskey and complain about their wife's, hints why he called them talkative bitches. They complain all the time. He couldn't care less. Why were they bitching when they had enough money to stop worldwide hunger? They didn't do shit.
They've just been drinking and buying. He thought it was funny they had so many complaints. They were more women than their wives and they [their wives] did more than them. They cooked, cleaned and had babies. The least they could do was let them spend money on the things that make them happy.
"Yeah, like how do rich and wealthy men attract poor sluts," said one of them. Draco couldn't give a shit about his name he wanted to say it was Oliver but the topic made him snicker as he listened in.
"Okay, I mean, I earn all the money just for them to spend."
Probably 'cause you sit on your ass like a lazy bitch that nobody wants to be around, so she's out there screwing one of the drivers.
"All I'm saying is I make the money, I should be decided who spends it and it damn sure shouldn't be going to fucking diapers and sippy cups."
"Amen to that!"
You should have used a condom, selfish motherfuckers.
"Poor Draco over their quiet as a sleeping baby, your wife got you tied down?" Draco took a look at the bald man, but failed to reply which caused laughter to fill the room.
What the fuck is so funny?
"Don't worry man I get it, I had one just like that whore wife of yours working the pole for money. Had no talents before you right?"
Draco glared, his blue eyes turning dark as he let out a dry laugh.
"What the fuck did you say?" The room fell silent as the question left his lips. All eyes were on him for his mistake.
Draco thought he was a straightforward man. He had two rules, one of which was to make the deal so that everybody would be happy and no one would die, and two, not to disrespect the queen.
When Draco met you, you were a stripper, but you had to pay college tuition and your job at the café didn't cover everything. Of course, when you got together, he paid it all for you. You were studying now peacefully and he was satisfied with you kicking your feet up and working hard for your degree, but sometimes people made the mistake of disrespecting you the way this fat fucker did and he did not take well to people talking about you at all.
Now the guy wasn't stupid. He knew once the room went quiet, he made a mistake. Draco's hand was placed on his weapon and an inhuman glance was on his face. Everything was intended to be simple. Come to the casino, make the exchange and leave, but he couldn't let that pass, because you weren't a whore at a club. You were the queen to the biggest Mafia leader.
"Come on, man, you're not seriously upset about some bitch." he laughs, swallowing his fear.
Bitch?
"Look, I'm sure she would understand that it's all a joke. I didn't mean any harm, it's just the truth after all."
Sure, you might but Draco didn't find it amusing and you weren't here right now. Draco stood to his feet from the leather couch, aiming the gun at the prick resting into the chair, his eyes wide in fear as he realized what's to come. The gun fires. The loud noise with the muzzle flash sending a fire colored hue through the room as one bullet is shot through his head and the other in his nuts.
The blood splattered on his face like paint flickered on a canvas, Draco's jaw clenched as he pulled the trigger. He took the gun placing it on a red napkin before he wiped it clean putting it back.
"Get rid of this pig and get my fucking money." he says, walking from the private room and heading home to you.
If you didn't get it from what just happened, you don't mess with the queen. That's a warning.
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@alexxavicry, @sarahthehuffpuff, @supercoffeeblogs, @thatwattpadobsessed, @amyclare04, @kyracanwrite, @animeloverfreak310, @imafangirl22, @phildunphyisadilf, @jac1ndaa
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ky-landfill · 1 year
Note
Can we please have some more Dick Grayson angst? I love your art so much.
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prttykittes · 5 months
Note
:3 anon
tw:nerco(fucking a dead person), kinda angsty, gn ready (you/yours)
OK so after a bit of time, i’ve finally got a grasp on necro. And after a bit of debate i decided to use Zhongli.
reader is from Liyue so they will be wearing a traditional hanfu from the Song Dynasty.
The Archon war left so many nations in shambles and in disarray. You fought so hard for your people. But in the end you couldn’t make it. Zhongli was right beside you when you passed. He made sure to comfort you as you faded from existence. His arms wrapped around you as the light in your eyes faded. He kissed your forehead before kissing your body admiring its beauty. His hands caressed your face and body as he continued to whisper in your ear of your lifeless body about how much he loves you. His hand slowly began to take off your pibo and your beizi from your body. He admired the lovely stitching and designs on the fabric before softly pushing up your Ruqun exposing your body to him. he lays his head down on your body one more to maybe just maybe hear a heartbeat once more. He kisses your wrist and goes up your arm to your lips. His kiss was so tender and genuine as if you were still alive. He began to softly cry and beg for forgiveness from you as he begins to make love with you one last time. It was so soft and gentle. The soft thrusts he did as he cries and says sorry as he kisses your forehead. You felt so cold. His face buried in the crook of your neck to inhale your sent. you smelt like tea and roses. It only fueled his sadness as he continued to fuck your dead body. “F-fuck, i’m so sorry love. I..I can’t leave you. I’m so sorry. Forgive me..” His hands were shaking as he came inside on you. He kissed you once more before burying you on the hill where you first met. On your gave he places his own pibo that you gave him for his birthday before leaving.
first time writing necro. I was planing on making it more like fucking a bullet wound but i decided not to cause i need to write more angst.
:0
Woah, this is sad, damn. Good job, :3 anon!! I have no idea what to say tbh,
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missluckycharms · 5 days
Note
Hii, I missed you and your writing. Can you write something about y/n and Harry (maybe phh). When she asks him what they are and he said he wants to be in a relationship but y/n isn’t ready yet and he reacts understanding 🫶🏻🫶🏻 can you make it a bit angsty too? Thank you 🫶🏻
I’m a little rusty so if this is somewhat crappy, just mind your business. Mwah. Thank you for this concept anon!! 🤍
Y/N and Harry have had a complicated relationship from the beginning.
Being childhood best friends can have it’s pros and also it’s cons, many cons Y/N had come to realise.
Five years old is when they first met, both their mothers being in the same book club is what set it off, the two meeting just before they headed into school where they’d also be together, connected at the hip their mothers soon came to know.
They were inseparable since five year old Harry comforted five year old Y/N as their mothers left them for the first time ever on their first day of school, the boy instantly hugging the crying girl as he reassured her he’d always be there, and he was, he really was.
Seventeen is when things started to get weird for them, hormones came into play, parties started becoming a thing and of course, testing the waters on who they both were interested in.
Harry finding himself the centre of attention with teenage girls pretty often, eyelashes fluttering as they basically begged to kiss him or even just sit in the passenger seat of his bet up truck that he drove, but Harry wasn’t too fond of it for reasons he wasn’t aware of at that time.
Y/N was shy, not really putting herself out there like Harry was, she would avoid parties and try ignore Harry’s pleads on insisting she comes with him for just an hour! She always rolled her eyes and agreed, but even when she was there, no one even knew she was.
But Harry always did.
College is where things got difficult, the pair going their separate ways for the first time in what felt like forever. Harry moved away, Y/N stayed, and it sucked, it really did.
Sure he’d come home every now and then and hang out with her when he could, but she could feel him slip away, pulling back slowly as she tried to navigate life without his hand on her shoulder reassuring her he’s there.
But he wasn’t anymore.
She took some time for herself, saved up money and decided to travel, leaving behind the life she felt way too comfortable in, wanting to find her true self, but sometimes, even if you try hard to get away from your past and start new, some strings are just hard to break.
And Harry was a string that kept hanging on.
Twenty five is when they met again, at a small bar in a different country to where they both left one another all those years ago, it was as if her mind was playing tricks on her, but it wasn’t.
It was him, he was there.
All the pent up anger for moving away from both parts was soon let out as they argued in booze filled rage, soon finding themselves tangled around one another the next morning as the sun seeped in through the curtains.
All the years of curiosity and anger came down to this, to Harry in her bed, the same Harry who had her back from five years old, who held her when she was hormonal and needing a shoulder to sob on for stupid reasons. It was him, and she had no idea what to think of it all.
A light groan startles her from her thoughts as he moves beside her, lazily peeling his eyes open as a sleep soaked grin creeps onto his face.
“This is the last place I thought I’d be, but no complaints here!” He jokes with a soft laugh, trying to wrap his arm around her to which she brushes off, leaving him confused.
Silence, that’s all he’s met with, Y/N staring at the ceiling as if she’s trying to piece her words together, but she can’t.
“Is something wrong? I can get you anything just say-“
“Just go, please” is all she can get out, her eyes closing as she fights off tears she doesn’t know why she’s even building up.
He looks over her face, he knows when she’s bottling something up, of course he does!
“I’m not leaving you like this Star.”
There it was, the nickname he always called her growing up. It stemmed from her love of astrology, always looking up at the stars whenever she could, he found it adorable, from then on always referring to her as one.
“Don’t call me that, you haven’t called me that in years.” She says almost as if she’s disgusted it even slipped past his lips.
Harry is confused, last night they were all over one another, couldn’t get enough of each other as they shared what was their first ever intimate night together, sharing themselves with each other for the first time ever.
“Please, can you just look at me?” He says with a light laugh, more one of confusion than of anything else, his heart tugging as he sees her flinch away from his touch yet again.
“It’s just best if you go, go back home and just don’t contact me again, I’ll do the same. Let’s just get back to what we were before last night.”
That was the thing, Harry didn’t want that.
“Y/N, do you know the reason I was here in the first place? The reason I suddenly just showed up?” Harry’s heart skips a beat as she looks at him for the first time this morning as she shakes her head softly.
“It’s because I couldn’t live without you, I tried, trust me I did! I tried everything. Nothing compared to what I felt when I was around you, knowing you were there was enough for awhile but when you moved,” he sighs with a shake of his head before he begins again.
“I felt like a piece of me left with you.”
Y/N doesn’t take her eyes off him, drinking in how he looks now, on sober eyes she can still see the young boy in him, the dimples poking out as he smiles down at her but there’s also differences.
She doesn’t see him as a friend anymore.
“Your hair is longer” she speaks, which is another difference she didn’t seem to notice last night.
“You had a thing for Tarzan growing up, had to get you some way.” He joked, earning a small laugh from her to which he beams at, missing her smile and her laugh that he was oh so fond of.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Can I be your idiot?”
That sentence brings her back to earth, the pit in her stomach returning as she fights back a lump in her throat as she tries to build up courage to tell him.
But she doesn’t need to tell him, he knows already.
“I know, you’re not ready for commitment, but I’m willing to wait until you are, even if that means I have to shower you in my love until you are.” He jokes, but he isn’t deep down and they both know that.
“I just need time.” She softly says, to which he just nods, smiling back at her.
“I’ve all the time in the world for you, Star.”
And just like that, things weren’t so complicated anymore.
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