#i'm mostly reading fanfic because it's easy
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maddiesbookshelves · 21 days ago
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Honestly, this year has been so hectic in terms of reading. I'd be in a slump for 4 months and then read 4 books in 2 weeks (usually on vacation). I've only read 13 novels, the rest are all manga or graphic novels. I've been struggling with the same book for 3 months now, even though I'm really liking it. Starting a full time job where I can start work anytime between 7am and 12pm is NOT helping. I don't know if I just have to get into the groove of things, but it's been a full year now so what gives
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icedb1ackcoffee · 2 months ago
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do you have any fucked up fics (feyd related or not 🤭) you’ve enjoyed recently? you’re a great author so i trust your taste in other great authors 🤩
okay soooo of course I have to shout out @inkwingsinc's fic, bit my gun with my black-gold gums (which, if you haven't read yet, just call off work now because you WILL LOSE SLEEP reading this divine fic!!!). it is genuinely one of the best writing i've ever read, and the plot/characters/story are so unique and carefully thought through. it's like, god-tier. ink is a treasure, and we are blessed to have this absolute GIFT !
the first feyd x reader fic I read was @peggyao3's fic, preyd, which i still go back and re-read because it just hits. Every. Time. Peggy also has so many more Feyd fics that leave me drooling, and I force myself not to read them all because I *will* devour them all too quickly.
@luminnara also has a great collection of feyd fics, including my personal fave, gladiator!
i also really really enjoyed @sansaorgana's thrown to the wolves fic!!!
if you want something else in the dune-universe, i HIGHLY recommend fleshed in the wife by @thefudge. it's paul x irulan and is INCREDIBLE.
(idk if all of them will be the level of "fucked up" you're hoping, but considering they are all feyd fics, well.... they're all naturally a tad fucked up. i just know that there are a lot of fics out there that I've enjoyed that I'm blanking on. if I've comment on their fic, chances are I enjoyed it and I just have terrible memory.)
tbh i really try not to read a whole lot of feyd fics, especially right now, because i don't want to worm its way into my own ideas/writing, so those are the main ones I've enjoyed!!!
also, if you want fic recs outside of that, trust that I read a lot of...ahem. Weird shit? basically anything in my bookmarks on AO3 are what I consider to be the crème de la crème, particularly this venom x reader fic collection by @snarky-badger or this pennywise x reader fic (yes, really.) i re-read both at least once a year. (currently, i mostly read trad/indie books more than fic, so if you or anyone else wants any recs, let me know that too!)
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tacticaldiary · 5 months ago
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Friday Nights
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PAIRING: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
SYNOPSIS: "I think I'm the lucky one no matter which narrative you spin." That easy smile of his reminds her of how she fell in love. He was sweet, considerate, and the perfect amount of playful that spoke to her without being cruel or nasty.
NOTE: All fanfic is timsekip. I'm taking requests!
Masterlist
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Friday's are date nights.
Kuroo's observant, good at being intuitive and he never picks anything he knows she won't like. Whether that be a new restaurant or a trip to the pier they've walked a dozen times, Kuroo has this uncanny ability to read her like a book, and a compulsive need to show her that he's got it, that he's got her, and that she doesn't need to worry about something as frivolous as planning if she doesn't want to.
Today might be a first, though.
There's a frown marring his lips as he watches her read over the same page of the menu thrice, a tired furrow to her brow. Her fingers tap a rhythm to the table he doesn't recognise, and there's this general air of enthusiasm that he clocked the moment he came home.
"Are you looking for something specific, because the wine selection can't be that detailed." She seems to startle at the comment, finally putting the menu down.
"It's nothing." She mumbles, shifting her gaze to him briefly, before it flickers back down to the tiny printed text.
Kuroo hums, not convinced. "You know," he starts, because if anything, Kuroo Tetsurou is a man of tact. "I said in my vows that I'd make you smile everyday, and so far I haven't been successful once today, so give it up. I know something's wrong."
"You're a sap." The comments earns her a chuckle and a squeeze of her hand across the table.
"Guilty." Kuroo shrugs. "Now give it up. Someone bothering you?"
There's an internal fight of sorts before his persistence finally sways her.
"Not someone, just...." She loosens out an exhale, seems to sink back into her seat, resigned. "The entire day, I guess. Meetings didn't go well, I barely made a deadline, and I had to chase a client down for hours." She wrinkles her nose in disgust. "I bounced from secretary to secretary until I snapped. I'm just exhausted I guess?"
"Wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that." Kuroo nods wisely, grin widening at the glare she shoots him with. "We could've cancelled, you just had to say the word."
"I didn't want to." She admits, watching his fingers curl around hers, warm and steady. "I usually love our Fridays, I didn't want to miss one just because I wasn't feeling it."
Kuroo clicks his tongue and stands in one smooth motion.
She's known him forever, and the transition he made from lanky, awkward high school boy to this (mostly, he still has his moments) graceful, lean businessman still surprises her often.
A couple of bills are deposited on the table, before he pulls her up by the arm, weaving between tables and leading her straight towards the exit with a hand on the small of her back, her coat draped over his other arm.
"No point staying if you don't want to be here. I don't give a shit about where we are. We could be stuck in a ditch and I'd still love our Fridays." He leans down to smile at her. "We'll stay in, yeah? I'll even let you hog the TV with those trashy reruns of Love Island."
"Please, you like them more than I do!" The cold hits them as they step into the street, Kuroo immediately helps her into her coat, pulls it snug around her while they walk to the carpark.
"Do not! I'm way above that."
"Says the man who hides the remote so I can't change the channel."
"Hey now, the couch cushions run deep." Kuroo smiles victoriously at the giggle he earns, slows to a stop under a streetlight to take him looking down at her.
"There she is." He whispers, leans down to kiss the smile off her face, sweet and self-assured. "Had me worried for a second."
"I'm okay." She assures him, watches the slope of his shoulder's relax. "Thank you for this. For everything. For just...for being you." The words are soft, intimate, they prompt Kuroo to huff out a laugh and press his lips to the wedding ring on her finger, the one he remembers beings horribly anxious to buy a year ago.
"I think I'm the lucky one no matter which narrative you spin." That easy smile of his reminds her of how she fell in love. He was sweet, considerate, and the perfect amount of playful that spoke to her without being cruel or nasty.
"Debatable," She hums, watching the spark of a challenge gleam in his eyes as he holds open the car door for her.
"Oh, I'm making you take that back."
The rest of the car ride is playful bickering, pinches to thighs and hands intertwined over consoles, and by the time they're home, changed into pajamas and a boneless heap on the couch, there is not a remnant of tension in either's shoulders.
Just content. Pure, gilded, easy content.
Reblog, Like and Comment!
(2/08/2024)
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alexanderwales · 7 months ago
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Turning Off Your Brain and the Critical Lens
Alright, let's start with this: there is a thing called a critical lens. It is a way of looking at a piece of art, examining what it's saying to us about itself or its subject or themes or whatever.
There are many critical lenses. Because this is something that's mostly only taught at the college level, most of them are (in my opinion) mired in academic language and not actually all that interesting in and of themselves: I think if you read a dozen stories through a feminist lens, you really start to think "okay, yeah, I get it". Different readings of different texts through different lenses can be great fun though, and it's one of my favorite parts of media criticism, and something that I wish people were more explicit about.
I'm going to talk about the Barbie movie, because it's easy. The feminist lens is obvious and in my opinion intended: it's the thing that the movie is most trying to be about, and as a consequence, it's something that probably has the most critical meat. But you can also read the movie through other lenses, and ask what it has to say about capitalism, about race, about neurodivergence and queer theory and game theory and a bunch of other things.
Some of these readings are Unintended. The author (in this case, hundreds of people working together on the film) did not intend for you to look at the movie to see what it's saying about, say, American Imperialism. Probably.
I personally enjoy unintended readings. I like teasing apart a book to see what it's saying about different things, and how it's saying it, and what the assumptions it's operating under, and whether this creates anything interesting when I bring a different set of assumptions. I think the writers and actors of Winter Soldier were not trying to say anything in particular about masculinity, but fuck it, let's watch the movie and think about it.
Sometimes people will watch something and recommend that you turn your brain off. Sometimes they'll say this to you just as you're about to start in on some critical analysis of something that definitely was not made with that critical analysis in mind.
Here's how I think of "turning off your brain": it's a critical lens. It's not a critical lens in the sense that academics might use it, but you're looking at this piece of media from a specific viewpoint, and that viewpoint is "omg they're in love" or "fuck yeah" or "no, don't go into the basement!". There are certain pop genres that greatly benefit from being viewed this way, at least in terms of pure enjoyment.
When I sit down to watch a romcom, I can do it with male/female social dynamics in mind, or I can do it with "aw, I hope these kids get together" in mind. One is the intended reading, and I don't think that it should get all that much privilege for it, but I do think generally it can result in better enjoyment. I love media criticism and consider it to be one of my main hobbies, but if you fall in love with one particular way of viewing media and only use that single one, you're going to have a bad time.
I write and generally enjoy rational fiction, which comes with its own lens, which I guess we can call the rational lens. If you sit and view a work through the rational lens, sometimes you can have fun with it: you try to work through the systems as presented and the actions of the characters and think about how you could make everything make sense. The way to do this that's not very fun is to look at a work through the rational lens and conclude that the author is dumb, the characters are dumb, and the worldbuilding is shit. I guess this can be fun if you have a sense of smug superiority, but I personally do not.
One of the things that I love about media criticism is that you can sometimes extract weird and new things out of a work. One of the things that I love about fanfic is that you can take a deliberately strange reading of a work and then write as though that reading was true. You can look at Batman and say "what does this say about income inequality" and then start writing and say "this is about income inequality now". You can look at Winter Solider and find a reading where Cap and Bucky are gay and then write it out.
Where I think people fail in a way that's personally annoying to me is that they take their preferred reading and then loudly claim ("ironically" or not) that this is the One True Reading against which no other readings can stand. Sometimes "that is not The Point of [thing]". I think you get that a lot from the "shut off your brain" crowd, but I've seen it from other places too, and I would attribute it to people talking past each other, sometimes not even realizing what critical lens they're using.
If you're talking to me, you can just say "non-preferred lens" and I'll understand, or maybe I'll say "wat" because I might forget this blog post moments after I write it.
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narwal-ed-in · 5 months ago
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ARMY GLITTERATI - (Band of Brothers x Bimbo!Reader)
✨glitterati✨- /ˌɡlɪt̬.əˈrɑː.t̬i/ - 1940's slang for famous people, glamorous people, in the spotlight.
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Summary: “You want to become a combat medic for the 101st?” “What, like it's hard?”
Warning: Period typical sexism, Fem reader, she/her pronouns, slight body shaming (not directed at reader). NO BETA READ. I WROTE THIS JUST NOW SO PLEASE DON'T EXPECT MUCH.
No disrespect to the real veterans of WW2, all my BoB fanfics are based on depictions by actors in the miniseries.
Borders by @plutism
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BEFORE TACCOA
The war is raging and everyone is doing their part to help the men on the front.
For you, that mostly meant trying to look your best at all times, no matter how inconvenient the situation.
"Looking good is a ginormous part of the war effort, it's good for boosting troop morale. I saw it on a poster at the teaching hospital" You reasoned with your father after he complained about you buying another pair of shoes and some expensive vanishing creams.
"Darling, I think they meant that we should all keep our appearances up, not buy out our local department stores"
"Oh my god daddy, you're suffocating me! I'm just doing my part by looking nice..." you glare at your father in his work clothes and eye him with a grimace "...and clearly you're not"
When you get a telegram informing you that you've been selected to participate in a program that aims to send female medics into combat you jump on it.
This is going to be so much fun.
"I'm going to be the talk of the town when everyone finds out. Not even Reverend Smiths boring old story about dying for ten minutes in a car crash and seeing Jesus will be able to outdo this!"
Your supervisors at the hospital are shocked that you've been chosen, seeing as you're not the sharpest knife in the drawer.
You had once walked out of an operation because it was bloody and you were wearing white (all the nurse uniforms are white).
You hoped you wouldn't be assigned to the army or the airforce.
The army is too basic, and if you were stuck on an airbase somewhere then nobody would be able to see how fab you always were.
The navy was your goal, their uniforms were sooo cute, you were just dreaming of all the ways you could style it.
It's just your luck when you get assigned to airborne.
"THIS BLOWS! I'm in the two most unglamorous branches at the same time"
After your initial breakdown you realized it wasn't that bad. If you were jumping out of planes it just meant that your hotness would have a bigger audience since it would literally be raining down from the sky.
"When the Germans see all this falling from the sky, they're going to flip their friggin wigs! AHHHH"
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CONNECTING WITH EASY
You're assigned to Easy company and meet the men a few months into their training at Camp Toccoa.
You show up randomly in the middle of the day.
Although the men had been told a woman would be joining them and they had been expecting you, they hadn't been expecting YOU.
You were a ditzy thing and looked like you’d jumped out of one of their pin up postcards. The brass surely couldn't expect them to put their lives in your hands.
"I'm sooo happy to meet everyone. You know, the other girls in the program are such massive liars, they said airborne was where all the uggos went, but that's so not true. After all, I'm here"
You always woke up an hour earlier than the rest of Easy so you would have time to put your face on.
It was one of your tenets to never be seen by anyone outside of family without makeup on, or with your curlers in.
Malarkey, Skip, Penkala, Shifty, Bull, Christenson, Lip and Winters had all been kind to you from the beginning, expecting nothing in return.
But some of the guys had other ideas.
George was one of the men that befriended you initially. And although he did have the ulterior motive of getting it on with you, he eventually stuck around because he actually liked you.
You guys have great play-flirting banter and you're both very entertaining people to be around, especially when you're drunk.
On the rare nights anyone gets passes they want to be around you and George because they know that's where the funs at.
You get sloppy drunk with George, flirt with men from Easy and other companies all night, then end up with your shoes off at 3am, sitting on the curb and crying about one of your ex boyfriends.
Perconte was one of your original detractors but when you found yourselves making the same brain dead comments about obvious things, you both decided to put your two half braincells together to form the singular braincell you share between yourselves.
Talbert was trying to get into your pants instantly. Nobody was surprised.
But just like George he grew to be genuinely fond of you.
What was surprising was Joe Toye taking you under his wing.
Toye could see that you were absolutely clueless and the worst part was, you had no idea.
Toye couldn't bear the agony of watching you skip around camp with your happy-go-lucky attitude, harping on about celebrity gossip nobody cared about.
"Y/N!" Toye yelled as you all got dressed to run Currahee "Why the hell is your PT shirt pink?!"
"Isn't it just the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen, Joe? I put a red handkerchief in with my laundry. Cosmo said carnation pink is the color of the summer"
Huffing and puffing, Toye took out one of his spare shirts and forced you to wear it.
"And when you give it back, it better not be fucking 'flamingo pink'" Toye said.
"Oh honey, this isn't 1939, flamingo pink is so over. I wouldn't be caught dead in that. You know, Joe, sometimes I feel like you don't care about fashion at all" You scoff at his cluelessness as you walk out.
Joe Toye is secretly your best friend in the company.
Toye taking you in meant Gaurnere and Johnny Martin had to be around you, much to their chagrin.
They didn't want some girl hanging off of them.
You win Gaurnere's respect when you coach him on what to write to his girlfriend back home to assure her that he's serious about their relationship when she began doubting his intentions.
And you win Johnny's respect when you help him find the most romantic gift for his wife for valentines day.
"Y'know, back home they call me the love doctor...Well, they used to, before I told Betsy Kline that Rob Jones was her soulmate but then he left her at the altar to elope with his housekeeper"
Sobel despised you from the moment he laid eyes on you.
Not wearing your red lipstick everyday was torture, but you had to stick to natural colours so Sobel wouldn't be able to tell what you had on.
He tried with everything in his power to get you kicked out, but much to everyones surprise, you kept up extrordinarily well with the men when it came to physical training.
"I do a lot of Pilates. It's really good for flexibility and helps you keep a positive outlook so you're not be such a 'negative nancy' all the time. Some of you could really use it. Some more than others..." you said as you side-eyed Skinny who just looked around incredulously
Eventually most of the men come to consider you a friend and a confidante since you give remarkably sound relationship advice.
"It's like sooo hard being the smartest person and the hottest catch in this camp at the same time"
The hardest nuts to crack in your immediate friend group end up being Leibgott, Cobb and Doc Roe, all for different reasons of course.
Leib was snide and arrogant and spoke to you like you were a silly little girl.
He didn't shy away from telling you how dumb he thought you were to your face.
Your relationship eventually becomes friendly but he will still be mean occasionally.
He always ends up apologising though and feels really bad when he makes you cry (the other guys nearly bite his head off whenever this happens).
"Jesus Christ, Y/N, stop being a baby already. I said I was sorry" Lieb said to you as you cried into your pillow.
"You can say sorry to me, Joey, but how are you going to tell Rita Hayworth you're sorry for saying nobody cares about her nighttime face washing routine?" You spoke inbetween sobs.
"I ain't saying sorry to Rita because I ain't sorry I said it. I stand by what I said. Nobody cares how some broad washes up at night"
"You take that back! That routine saved my life" You jumped up, pointing an accusing finger at the man.
"How the fu-"
"You're a horrible, horrible man Joseph Leibgott"
"Oh put a sock in it" Leib rolled his eyes, making you cry even harder.
Toye, ever protective of you, had enough "I swear to god Leibgott, leave that girl alone!"
Cobb was just straight up cruel to you and made sure you always knew "your place".
Roe didn't seem particularly close to anyone.
But as you all of you went into the more specialised aspects of your training and you and Roe spent more time together, he found himself looking out for you.
You were sitting alone on the grass after everyone had groaned and walked off the moment you started talking about an article you read in a magazine.
You sigh sadly, pulling at the grass when a shadow falls over you.
Bringing up a hand to block the sun you finally recognize who it is. It's Eugene Roe.
"I, uh, I was wondering if I could sit with you?" he asked.
You nodded excitedly and he took a seat beside you in the grass.
"What was it you were telling the others?"
You gasped "You really want to know?"
"I guess…"
Doc had seen everyone walk away, and although he didn't care much for mindless conversation, he knew talking to people meant a lot to you and had come over to cheer you up.
Without missing a beat you began one of your famous tirades.
By the end of your first year in Toccoa you end up finding your place.
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Thanks for reading! Please like, comment and reblog if you want❤️
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olderthannetfic · 11 months ago
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Genuine question: what's the point of writing fanfic? As in, what's the purpose? No one in the fandom I'm in comments on fics and I even got told off by one person for doing so, as it "encourages bad writers and makes them think they're good". So it seems that it's a lot like book writing, where people work hard and are creative, but instead of getting paid and getting comments on the work, you just sit there silently hoping someone will press the kudos button and make a number go up. I feel like that time and work could be better spent on making something you might get some kind of profit off of. Don't get me wrong, I love doodling fanart, but I don't post it, as I'm aware that there's no point to doing so, and while it's a nice way to fill the time on a commute, it's not something that takes me as much time and effort as fanfic does. So... why do people bother? Sometimes I describe ideas I have and people I know in my fandom will tell me I should write it, but I don't see why. I get more interaction from just saying "imagine if [thing here]" than I would by sitting down, writing for hours, editing and posting [thing here], so what would the point be? I'm not punching down or going "haha women and their fanfic lol!", I genuinely do not get what the point is and this blog feels like it might have someone reading who knows the answer.
--
Do you make art for profit? Genuine question.
There's nothing inherently wrong with being motivated primarily by external factors, but it's not actually why a lot of people create things, whether it's books or recipes or doodles in a notepad.
I enjoy the actual process of writing.
I think many people lose sight of that aspect in an era where tons of <500-word fics that are mostly outlines and "Imagine if..." posts get disproportionate attention for being easy to consume. But the satisfaction of doing a bigger art piece and doing it right is real and motivates a hell of a lot of creation.
I suppose you might be thinking "Okay, but why not just write it alone and never post?", but I like sharing. Showing off my finished creation is part of the joy, and sharing with other people like me is too. But those aren't quite the same thing as worrying about kudos. It's like dressing nicely when you leave the house because you feel great when you know you look good vs. needing another person to tell you you look good.
To be honest, though, this type of feeling has grown in me the better I've gotten at a craft. The closer my finished projects get to the vision in my head, the easier it is to find them fulfilling and to be excited to share them. When I fall short of my own ambitions, it's discouraging no matter how much attention I might get from others.
I feel like it's time for my regular reblog of Adam Westbrook's video essay series The Long Game.
vimeo
vimeo
youtube
The third and least known in the series is all about this idea of who you're making art for if you're not getting material rewards in the short term. It talks a lot about autotelicity—being internally driven instead of externally.
--
But if you really just want clicks, anon, start a blog that accepts anon asks and posts about wanky stuff. Actually tag things, unlike me, so people can find you.
No, writing for attention isn't worth it.
The time investment is too great and your brain will always fixate on the times people didn't respond instead of the times they did.
But that's not actually why most people write.
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zepskies · 2 months ago
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hi! so I had a question, how long did it take you to build a following on tumblr? how long have you been writing for spn as a whole (I assume you started with it but I’m not sure I meant when did you start writing on the app mostly) and do you think it usually takes as long as it did for you for other people? (I hope the wuestion made sense)
Hi there, lovely anon!
Oh, these are great questions, and I'm happy to answer. I'm going to be referencing this post, as someone asked me a similar question.
I also talk a lot about my beginning fanfic/coming to Tumblr experience and building a following in this interview I did with the @idlingintheimpalapodcast.
That being said, here's how I got started in SPN fandom and on Tumblr, and 6 Tumblr Tips related to how I've tried to grow my blog:
Learn How Tumblr Functions
Create a Tag List
Posting Schedules, Announcements, and Sneak Previews
People are Visual (Use Images & Design Elements) + shoutouts to blogs I looked to for inspo
Support Your Fellow Writers! Reblog/Comment on What You Read & Enjoy
When I Do Get Engagement, I Reply to Comments and Reblogs
Deeper dive below the cut:
Writing for SPN & Starting on Tumblr
To be honest, I'm a bit late to the party when it comes to Tumblr. I've written for many different fandoms over the 15 years or so I've been writing fanfic, but I've been writing for Supernatural in particular since around 2015. I wrote on platforms like Fanfiction.net, and later I moved over to Ao3.
I dabbled with Tumblr starting in 2021 while I was working on a Billy Butcher x OC story for the Boys (And So It Goes). But after watching the last season of SPN, I got the SPN bug again, so I started dipping back into the fandom.
But I wasn't really that active on Tumblr until January 2023, when I wrote my first soulmate AU series for Dean Winchester, called Never Say Goodbye (Dean x soulmate!Reader).
That started a very fun journey for me in the Tumblr world, engaging with people and making friends here with awesome people! 💕
Now, here are a few tips on what I've learned in building my following. You don't have to do exactly what I did. This is just my advice based on my personal experience here:
Tip #1: Learn How Tumblr Functions
Everything has been a process of trial and error. I have a professional background in content and social media marketing, so that knowledge has helped me a lot with some elements I'll get into later.
But it took me time to learn the Tumblr landscape. I had to figure out:
Why it's important to reblog -- not just your own work in replying to people's comments, but what you read and enjoy. It's what makes Tumblr go 'round.
The different mobile vs. desktop views and functions.
How to format my posts and use hashtags that would best optimize my fics and posts, based on the most followed tags in the fandom I was writing for.
How to create design elements, like banners, dividers, and headers that matched my aesthetic and the fandom.
Make sure my blog is easy to read, visually, and easy to navigate, technically (links to my masterlists, series masterlists, tag list, my fic library side blog, Patreon, etc.).
I'm still adjusting all these things now and then as I figure out new ways to keep readers engaged, and make my blog as easy to navigate as possible.
Tip #2: Create a Tag List
A tag list is a list of blog users that request to be tagged in your upcoming fics. (See this post on tips for formatting tag lists and optimizing hashtags on posts.)
Some authors don't do tag lists anymore because they find it a hassle (and it can be), but even if you're just starting out, advertise your tag list -- I suggest at the end of a fic and in your bio, your masterlist, and/or navigation page. It will get more eyes on your posts, and hopefully more engagement.
I used Google Forms to build up my tag lists because it's easy to use and it creates a Google spreadsheet for you based on the responses you get (an idea I got from another writer who was doing the same thing). You can also create more sheets within the file to organize the responses by character, for example.
On my tag list, I gave readers options to choose which character they wanted to be tagged on based on the fandoms I write for. I also created tag lists for new series to go with the series masterlist. Like I said above, I created spreadsheets for each of these lists within my tag list form master sheet.
Now, you don't have to do it exactly this way. There are many ways to keep track of a tag list.
Some people may think my approach is too much work, but this was very successful for me in building up my tag lists and increasing my following. Staying organized is key! 🤓✌🏽
I have since created a side blog @zepskieswrites for people to follow with notifications on, since my character tag lists are full.
Tip #3: Posting Schedules, Announcements & Sneak Previews
When my blog started to gain traction from my first SPN series, I knew I wanted to post consistently to keep people's interests. For me, this meant once a week (sometimes more if the mood strikes me), to keep that momentum going. YouTube vloggers do the same thing for this reason. They have a set posting schedule and give announcements.
You don't have to post once a week. You don't even have to have a set schedule. That's just what I did last year to increase engagement, but also because I love to write, I was getting inspired, and I made the time for it!
Remember that writing and sharing your work and being a part of the fandom on Tumblr is supposed to be fun! At the same time, what you get out of something depends on how much time you have to put into it.
Basically what I’m saying is, I’ve put a lot of time and energy into my writing and my blog, but only because it’s been very fun to do it! 😉
Now, going back to being consistent. It can help you! When people know they have content waiting for them by a certain timeframe, and they see that you stick to that deadline, they're more likely to tune in and engage with your work.
Of course, real life comes first, always, and things can derail you, but on the whole I make sure that I keep my word when I say I'm going to post something. Tumblr has a scheduling feature that allows you to schedule posts ahead of time, which I use on a daily basis. That can help you as well.
To try and generate buzz around new stories, I give writing updates or announcements, often with sneak previews, and the dates when I plan to drop the upcoming story. When I'm writing a series, on each chapter I give a preview of the next one, so I can try to keep people invested and waiting for the next chapter.
Tip #4: People are Visual (Use Images & Design Elements)
A huge element of successful content and social media is visuals. The first thing people are often drawn to when they look at a web page, an ad, or any kind of digital content is the picture -- and any other visual elements. Then they look at the title/headline, followed by the rest of the story.
This is why I always lead with the title of the story/headline and a GIF or image at the top of the post for a story. Draw readers in with their eyes to the visual, and then the content. I now create my own design elements, including story headers.
When I got started here on Tumblr, I also took a closer look at how other popular blogs I admired were organizing their masterlists, formatting their stories with banners, dividers, tags/warnings, word count, creating tag lists, and more -- both to create their blog aesthetic and to make it easier for readers to enjoy their work on different levels -- the content itself, and the visual elements.
Shoutouts to some of those writers I looked to, who have a lovely blog aesthetic and organization: @luci-in-trenchcoats @deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior
Form and function is a balance, and they should work together. For example, there are some design/post formatting elements that are getting popular now on Tumblr that I personally don't vibe with, because I think it takes away from the reader's experience.
Like making the entire post or story in small case. Readers that have trouble seeing small fonts won't want to read this.
or making everything in the story lower case. this just bothers me for grammatical reasons. guarantee i will be turned off from reading. 😂
Also, most people browse Tumblr on their phone rather than on desktop. (About 62% according to current Semrush statistics.) So certain things that are small in your desktop version will be even smaller on mobile.
If you have a custom blog design, some design elements may not transfer well visually on mobile vs. desktop, and vice versa. So you'll want to check both versions to see how it looks, and possibly make adjustments.
Now, this isn't to say you have to become a graphic designer if that's not your thing. There are plenty of people who share their lovely designs for free, as long as you make sure to credit them if you use one of their banners, dividers, etc. Check out @cafekitsune and @firefly-graphics, for example.
Some of them even take requests. Just make sure to check their bio to see if they state whether they're currently taking requests or not. (This also goes for writers on fic requests.)
Tip #5: Support Your Fellow Writers! Reblog/Comment on What You Read & Enjoy
This is part of the fun when you start truly engaging with the fandoms you love.
Likes are cool. Comments are wonderful. Reblogs with comments are awesome, because not only do they get that engagement/feedback that they can reply to, but the reblog helps your fellow writers get seen. And while they aren't obligated to, they might be more inclined to do the same for you.
You'll also start to develop relationships within your fandom community. This is how I've made many friends and gained new readers on Tumblr -- by reblogging, sharing, commenting on what I liked about the fics I read. 💜
I try my best to support my fellow writers, no matter how new or how popular they are. Just because a writer has a bigger following, doesn't mean they appreciate feedback any less.
Feedback gives us writers energy and fuels us to write more. It can lead to more inspiration, and to continue the series you might be so invested in.
So if I took the time to read something, if I enjoyed it, I'm usually reblogging it and sharing my thoughts, even if it's just a gif or a couple of lines, or a long raving review. 💖
Tip #6: When I Do Get Engagement, I Reply to Comments and Reblogs
Along with supporting my fellow writers, engaging with the lovely people who read my work is just good fun! It's the best part of sharing my work on here and on Ao3. And it lets them know that you value and appreciate them for taking the time to comment and/or comment in a reblog. 💓💓💓
I hope these tips are helpful! Now, to answer your last question...
Do you think it usually takes as long as it did for you
[to build a following] for other people?
Interesting, but the truth is, I'm not sure. My knowledge of content and social media marketing has probably given me a leg up, I think, even though it took me a while to learn the Tumblrscape. I've also been writing fanfic for a long time. Long before I ever heard about Tumblr.
I've spent years studying literature, creative writing, and screenwriting, and putting it into practice. I've spent years writing for other voices besides my own, outside of the fanfic world. Like anyone else, I can only go by what I've learned, my own instincts, my frame of reference, and what I want to write about next.
Like anyone else, I can only hope that what I put out there vibes with people and touches them in some way, enough that they feel comfortable letting me know what they thought about it. 💜
In the meantime, I'll just keep getting inspiration from this guy (and other characters):
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allastoredeer · 10 months ago
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Alastor really be the asexual ideal of a fandom bicycle. So many ships. He has such effortless rizz.
Unrelated, but I love the image of Alastor and Rosie getting the chance to wow everyone with a proper dance number. Just, deciding to cut a rug at a party at the hotel. Alastor genuinely laughing and having the time of his afterlife.
Most of the cast are impressed.
Lucifer is entertained and trying not to foster feelings.
Vox is apoplectic from jealousy.
Rosie fully planned for all of this, but the dance was fun too.
Hahaha he really is XD It's that charisma. It's too alluring.
I'm such an Alastor multishipper, I see almost any relationship he's in and derive some enjoyment from it. (Current crackship that I'm a little obsessed over is AlastorXAdam, akak AngelicRadio - mostly driven by this lovely artists work Mawdam on Twitter. I eat up everything they draw.)
GAAAH I love anything involving Alastor and Rosie. Bad Besties for life, indeed. And them cutting a rug together, genuinely having a good time, the both of them feeling so easy and comfortable in each other's presence😭 I love i!
And it's made even better by Lucifer, who's never seen this side of Alastor - this fun, happy side that humanizes him so much--that he can't help but catch feelings.
Anything involving Alastor and Vox is an immediate yes from me. God, Vox wishes that were him. I bet he fantasizes about dancing with Alastor in a such a fun, care free way. (Depending on his backstory, maybe he HAS and he misses it extremely).
There was actually a fanfic I read that kind of had this premise. It's a StaticRadio fic with a scene where they're at a club or event (something like that), and Alastor and Rosie are at the piano, drunk, singing, and having the best time. Vox is watching (because he's always watching Alastor), and just about malfunctions when Alastor takes off his tie and unclips a few buttons on his shirt, revealing a - GASP - collarbone.
This scene genuinely lives rent free in my head, I think about it all the time and I love it. I love Alastor having fun and cutting loose, and people being absolutely SHOOK by it. Him taking off his tie and unclipping the top button of his shirt is the equivalent of him stripping down to his underwear and dancing on the tables.
It's unheard of. And I love characters seeing this more relaxed, human side of him, and not knowing how to handle it. I'm obsessed with it.
Here's the fic mentioned above if anyone is interested: Deer Hunting by Quoth_the_raven_Nevermore
Mind the tags! It is a smut fic. The scene in specific is near the beginning for those who may not want to read the smut part, but would like to consume this fantastic, delightful little scene.
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poopingonthefloor · 1 year ago
Text
Davesport is Toxic NOT abusive
(((WARNING: PRETTY LONG POST UNDER THE CUT.))) I've seen some people making the claims that Davesport is comship/proship (ok well i've more seen people bitching about it) and im tired of the Davesport slander so this will be an analysis of their relationship. My motive isn't to force anyone to ship it or anything- i really dont care what you do with your life, my frustration is just when people try to make up REASONS why they don't like the ship, even though its literally canon (and not badly written). My main point is -- You can hate what you want. You don't need a reason, and it doesn't need to be bad just because you don't like it. But I will not take any slander on their ship nor any slander of people who like davesport. Davesport is absolutely toxic-- No DSAF fan would disagree. They are literally child murderers with little to no souls and literally are physically disfigured to the point they don't have the capacity to feel proper humanity anymore. You cant expect 2 men who live their lives willingly murdering and then partying in vegas to celebrate on repeat to be gentle and kind to themselves or anyone else.
However, its NOT abusive. I've seen multiple people (mostly from twitter screenshots) claim that Davesport is abusive or the way people portray it is in a fetishy or romanticizing way of abuse, when that's just not the case. I don't blame a lot of people, since a lot of it comes from reading context and intent of the artist, which not everyone is good at-- BUT I'm here to assure you that MOST people don't intend to do that much and just like to portray how their dynamic is canonically like or portray Daves obsession with Jack. Another argument I've seen (by a twitter screenshot...) is that people are comshipping Davesport because people draw Jack annoyed a lot at Dave when...thats not true? That's just Jack's personality, first off:
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(From the Dave x Reader fanfic by Directdoggo)
"Jack is a bastardman not very touchy-feely. We can see this in many scenes, where Dave more or less says “I love you” and Jack responds with deflecting humour, or outright scorn. When Dave says it for the final time, this time, Jack tries to say it back, but can’t outright, only getting out: “Why is this so hard?” and “I hope you can find peace with what you’ve done.” Which Dave understood the meaning of. (Hey, better than Henry (LEGACY Jack) hearing “I love you” and proceeding to tear Dave limb from limb, huh?"
(Directdoggo describing Jack's personality)
I know it can be a little confusing to some people, but as someone who struggles with similar issues, just because he struggles to express intimately doesn't mean he can't love anything. Sometimes people are just different and communicating like that doesn't come as easily, even to the people you're closest to. To make it as easy as possible to comprehend-- He's quite literally a tsundere. (Minus the exaggerated ridiculousness in anime) He loves Dave, he just cant bring himself to say or act like it. The dismissiveness or rudeness in response to Dave's affection is not abuse, it's just a defensive response since he doesn't know how to say it back. (His way of being "shy") -- Also note its important that Dave UNDERSTANDS this about him by that point.
However Jack isn't the only thing I've seen regarding the claims that their ship is abusive-- and to debunk all of those I'm going to explain the three points that keep Davesport from being abusive, and I'll use Henry x Dave (which is what I'll call it to prevent it getting confused for FNAF willry) as an example alongside it since its super obvious why that one is messed up. Firstly, They are both bad people. By this point, Dave and Jack are murderers. It's just not surprising that they will be willing to kill each other at at least some point, considering they are willing to kill 5 year olds without remorse- and they'll both deserve it. It's only their own faults that they teamed up with the other, and it's meant to be the ultimate irony when Jack becomes even worse than Dave by "An ending". My point is- they're bad people. It's not like they're owed perfect company or would choose wholesome people to hang out with when they're literally both child murderers. Dave wasn't evil and didn't want to kill by the time he teamed up with Henry (and even after it was Henry's fault), so by that point his suffering was absolutely undeserved.
Secondly, They're lacking any specific power dynamic. Unlike Henry and Dave- whom have several levels of "Age, Father figure, and Employer", the most important one is that Henry is Dave's abuser. He manipulated him and purposefully harmed him both mentally and physically, whereas Dave never had any intention of doing either because Dave loved him and didn't want to lose him (because he had nobody else) This obviously much different with Dave and Jack, whom other than being taller and several years older than (which you can argue their 6 year age gap is weird but they didnt get to know each other till they were both older than 30 so by that point age difference doesnt rlly matter and (also theyre "mentally" like 24 and 22 canonically anyways (as much as I usually hate that argument)) Other then that they are only co-workers. This is a bit more arguable during DSAF 1, where Dave comes across more threatening and comes across like he's manipulating Jack, but I don't exactly count that because I wouldn't say theyre "shippable" or in their "situationship*" by that point (but also because them even being a ship was barely considered by the creator at that point obviously)-- whereas Dave is certainly more easily recognized as sincere to Jack in DSAF 2. Jack also is not someone who is afraid to defend himself against Dave, as shown by the fact he's willing to call out Dave's ridiculous behaviors (which is reasonable of him to do).
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(Also from the Dave x reader fanfic) (I just think this specific screenshot debunks any sort of "power dynamic" claim)
My Third and Final point: There is a CHOICE involved I haven't really done much Dave defense in this post, but his defense is very simple: He is literally physically unable to comprehend guilt or conscience. Dave didn't want to murder anyone in the first place, but it was Henry who fucked with his (literal) head so much to the point he stopped being able to feel guilt. He doesn't care about murder and doing wrong because he CAN'T care. You can't really let that reflect Dave as a character when he's really not in control of himself in the first place. Now with that, that doesn't change the fact he could certainly affect and hurt people, and it's fully up to Jack as to whether or not he wants to deal with this purple man's freakish life choices and hobbies or not. And that's honestly super dependent on the ending you decide to base Jack on. Most people see the 'canon' endings to be: Gnarly ending (DSAF 1) -> An ending (DSAF 2) -> Good ending (DSAF 3) Where in all of these, Jack DOES choose to deal with Dave and basically is completely cool with murder. You don't have to follow those endings if you don't want to, but that's just typically what the modern "Davesport" is known for, but its what I'm using for my defense (considering this is a defense of both fandom and canon Davesport.) Though as opposed with Henry and Dave- Dave had no choice. Henry only ever manipulated him into thinking he did, and Henry made sure to feed this whole 'we will be a family' ideal into Dave (who never had one) so that Dave would be terrified to lose him. Jack never manipulates Dave (when teamed up with him), and Dave never manipulates Jack (tho arguable in DSAF 1 as well). They stay with each other despite all of their issues, and I believe its due to some co-dependency (imo I think Jack is also obsessed with Dave just in a different way before DSAF 3) Which isn't healthy, but not...inherently abusive.
I believe my main three points kind of cover the most of why I dont consider Davesport to be inherently a bad ship, but like I said- if you don't like it, none of that matters anyways. You dont NEED a reason to like something, and I wont try to convince you why you should ship something because I like it. Just don't hate it just because of what someone else says-- 90% of the dsaf fandom aren't comshippers, and Davesport isn't gross or "toxic /neg" just because it's not healthy. I think "Don't fetishize/romanticize literal abuse like its normal or sexy" and "We should explore more complicated and unhealthy dynamics" can and SHOULD coincide with each other!!!! I think Davesport is great because of how bittersweet it is that these two people finally found solace and acceptance in each other but couldn't get past the self-sabotaging nature of what Henry turned them both into, ultimately making it impossible to work out forever. I think embracing the Davesport makes the (kind of aged) trilogy a lot more enjoyable of an experience and I DO encourage any davesport skeptics to keep an open mind. [Pretend I wrapped this up super nicely I can never do that--- Also this is open for conversation and/or debate, and also yada yada my bad if i said something randomly terrible I have extremely poor social skills lol let me know so I dont do it again yada yada] *Also if anyone doesnt know a situationship is (at least in the context im using it in ive heard other definitions for it but its not a real word so i actually dont care) when 2(or more) people basically treat eachother like lovers but they never communicate this outright and dont technically officially date but like they treat and commit to eachother like a partner would) (So its kind of what all those people who playfully flirt and call each other their spouses as a commited running joke are in)
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brisquad-unit-4402 · 2 years ago
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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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pippin-katz · 1 month ago
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Random Cute Moments From Dead Boy Detectives - Part 1
Episode 2: The Case of the Dandelion Shrine - Edwin writing new notes into his notebook while Charles watches.
This has to be some of the cutest shit in the entire show to be honest. I mean, just look at them. 🥺
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Sorry for how poor the quality is!! I'm not good at this, and they are literally out of focus of the camera for this part, so it's like, doomed to look like shit 😭
There's lots of different interpretations of how Edwin uses his notebook, and how open/closed off he is about sharing its contents. This is mostly because there aren't many scenes of him showing other people, or someone else going through it. No one else but Charles even holds it let alone reads it. Because of this, there’s no evidence from the show itself to determine his real attitude towards other people reading his notebook. But it’s easy to draw the conclusion that Edwin is very protective and attached to the notebook, and many fanfic writers take it a step further into that to make it something that no one else is allowed to touch or look through. Full stop. He will get aggressively defensive if someone tries to. There are plenty of interpretations that are less intense than that too. There’s no wrong answer when writing fanfiction.
But regarding canon, it’s crazy how long it took me to notice, but evidently Edwin is comfortable enough to write in it while Charles hovers. He’s definitely watching what he’s writing down, evening nodding occasionally. I imagine Edwin would stick to case details and whatnot rather than personal entries, but still, the notion is there. While he might try to only show pages with case notes, there’s always a risk that he might open to the wrong page, or pause too long in between. Charles could absolutely catch a glimpse of something Edwin might have wanted to keep to himself. Given Edwin’s level of introversion, it’s probably a safe bet to say that he wouldn’t want anyone to see personal entries. I feel like it says a lot that he allows Charles to hover that close and watch him write.
I tend to agree with the headcannon that Edwin doesn’t allow people to see his notebook, but Charles is always the exception, isn’t he? 🥺
(ko-fi)
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rottenfyre · 18 days ago
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sorry if this is random or you’re having to repeat yourself but
from what i’ve seen/read of yours, you seem to lean team green and i’m just wondering if that’s right?
again don’t want to start like an argument or some stupid fucking discourse over a FICTIONAL world but i just find it really interesting hearing other people’s opinions.
so basically i was just wondering if you do back the greens, is it because you believe that aegon should be king because he’s a man, or based on the books i’m guessing, would be a better monarch bc of characteristics etc…
coz don’t get me wrong i love show alicent and show aegon is easy to sympathise with but when i read fire&blood and watched hotd i thought that no one was really team green because rhaenyra was chosen by the king to be queen, and then was usurped because of her gender, not her ability to rule or anything.
just feel like i need to clarify again, i seriously don’t rlly care that much if you are team green and for whatever reason, i just love having discussions like this!
so i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions! love you’re writing btw!!
Alright so if you didn’t know, I run another blog solely dedicated to Tom Glynn-Carney. I’m into Tom, not Team Green. My fanfics are written because I find him beautiful and talented, and that includes the characters he’s portrayed. I’ve always been clear that I’m his fan, not necessarily a part of the HotD fandom or a staunch supporter of the Green faction. But overall I write for every character in Asoiaf world, because I'm a fan of books. Hopefully, that clears up why my fanfics have the tone and focus that they do.
Now, to answer your question: do I think Aegon should be king simply because he’s a man? Absolutely not. Likewise, I wouldn’t support Rhaenyra just because she’s a woman. Both these views—gender alone being the deciding factor—are reductive and ignore the complexities of the Dance of the Dragons.
The book makes it clear that the Greens didn’t challenge Rhaenyra’s claim purely because she was a woman. Aegon’s gender was used as a convenient argument, but the underlying reasons went much deeper. If Alicent had only daughters, I firmly believe the Greens would have found another way to challenge Rhaenyra. The succession conflict was less about misogyny in isolation and more about political, familial, and personal grievances.
What I find puzzling is how some people can sympathize with Aegon in the show but not in the book. Aegon’s characterization in the book, while flawed, is far more nuanced and less morally damning than his portrayal in the show.
Aegon is not a rapist. Yes, he is guilty of inappropriate behavior like groping maids, but there’s a significant difference between unwanted touching (which is still wrong) and outright sexual assault. The show’s portrayal exaggerates his flaws to a point where it distorts his character entirely.
Aegon loves his family. He isn’t a bully to Aemond and shows care for his siblings. His relationship with them is much less contentious than what the show depicts.
Alicent is not an evil figure akin to the "evil queen" trope. She’s more akin to Catelyn—a protective mother who is fiercely loyal to her children and acts out of a sense of duty and love. Her treatment of Rhaenyra, while harsh, is understandable given the political and personal feelings she endured.
And most team green fans that I saw are book readers while show watchers mostly support team black.
Rhaenyra, in both the book and show, demonstrates poor leadership qualities. However, there are key differences between the two portrayals.
In the books, Rhaenyra at least has the courage to pursue her ambitions. She’s unapologetic about her desires and choices, even if they’re flawed. However, her tenure as queen was disastrous. She neglected her responsibilities as heir and, once crowned, failed to rule effectively. Her leadership destabilized the realm further and led to significant losses, including the destruction of dragons.
In the show, Rhaenyra is portrayed as hesitant and indecisive. She’s framed as a "chosen one" by the gods, universally loved and morally righteous, which feels unearned. Despite having more dragons and greater initial support, she fails to secure her claim effectively. Alicent practically hands Aegon over to her.
Meanwhile, Aegon in the show has absolutely nothing. Unlike his book counterpart, he doesn’t have his family’s loyalty, his dragon (Sunfyre is dead), or even his crown. He has no army, no support, and yet he still going to kill Rhaenyra and take the throne back. Why would I root for Rhaenyra in this scenario?
In the book on the other hand, Aegon proves himself during the Dance. Initially reluctant to rule, he grows into the role and accepts his responsibilities. In the books, Aegon wanted to remarry for duty, seeking a legitimate heir rather than marrying for lust. Defeats Rhaenyra, retakes the throne, and restores order to a realm she left in chaos. Punishes those who harmed dragons, showing a sense of justice and loyalty to his family’s legacy. And so much more.
If Aegon was sitting on the throne during Rhaenyra's time on the throne, I believe he would have prevented much of the harm done to the dragons and the realm. His leadership during the latter stages of the Dance demonstrates his growth and potential as a king. And unlike Rhaenyra, he actually listen to people who are wise and smart.
That said, the one character who truly deserved the throne was Daeron. He’s portrayed as intelligent, dutiful, and competent—everything one could want in a ruler. If Viserys had named Daeron as his heir, the Dance likely wouldn’t have happened, and the Targaryen dynasty could have avoided its catastrophic decline.
Some argue that Jacaerys should have been king when I say Daeron deserve the throne, but that argument doesn’t hold up. It’s equivalent to claiming that Joffrey or Tommen were legitimate kings, which they weren’t because they were bastards. Similarly, Jace and Luke’s status as bastards makes their claims to the throne invalid, regardless of personal feelings toward them.
Daeron, by comparison, outshines Jace in every way—leadership, legitimacy, and potential. Had he been given the opportunity, Daeron could have brought peace and prosperity to the realm.
Ultimately, my perspective is shaped by the source material. Aegon, despite his flaws, demonstrates growth and proves himself as a capable ruler during the Dance. Rhaenyra, on the other hand, fails to rise to the challenges of leadership and leaves the realm worse off. While Aegon was a better king than Rhaenyra, Daeron remains the most deserving of the throne due to his competence and character.
Yet again, I'm a fan of Tom and Asoiaf not house of the dragon. And thank you very much for being respectful and I'm happy that you enjoy my works.
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thelaurenshippen · 1 month ago
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How much of an impact has writing and consuming fanfiction had in your writing career?
I ask about fanfiction specifically because it's such an open communication sort of media, it's so easy for author and reader to interact. Do you think you'd write differently if you'd never been in the Fanfiction community? What do you think has carried over from those works and interactions into your current works?
ooh, such a fun question! I've never really thought about this before!
so I will admit, while I have been reading fanfiction since 2006, I never actually wrote fanfiction until 2018 (and then didn't share any of it until 2021). so I think those specific relationships affected my writing in very specific ways.
from a reading perspective, I think fanfic really showed me that a story can be anything, told in a million different kinds of ways. the two fandoms that I was deeply entrenched in/reading fic in were sherlock (lol) and the winter soldier (I stand by it). both of those fandoms - TWS especially - did a lot of very interesting stuff when it came to story structure, multimedia storytelling, etc. while of course there's great published fiction that does the same (I've been a huge David Mitchell stan since I was 20, I read House of Leaves for the first time a few years ago, A Series of Unfortunate Events is such a great example of this tbh), I think there's a lot of freewheeling experimentation in fanfiction that encouraged me to do things like write Some Faraway Place as a mix of journal entries, reddit posts, letters, and tumblr posts.
it's also interesting to me that you bring up the author/reader interaction, because you're right, it is such a huge part of fanfic and a part I rarely thought about for a looooong time. I'm a socially anxious lurker by nature, so I would leave comments (show your local fanfic writer some love!) and I would follow a lot of those writers, but I'd never, like, interact with them directly. and my comments were usually along the lines of "I'M FLINGING MYSELF DIRECTLY INTO THE SUN" rather than openings to conversations lol.
but that changed significantly when I started writing fic. the first fandom I wrote for was SO small and the ship I was writing for even smaller (I'm responsible for over half the fics in that tag), so there wasn't really any interaction there. but then I started writing in a different fandom - still small but much more active - and joined a discord and everything. I'm not really active anymore, but I met someone who now has become one of my best friends and who is a huge reason why Desperate Hollow, my queer outlaw novel, finally got fucking finished.
so being in fanfic really affected my writing in the sense that I found a writer friend who - like a lot of other writing friends - has had a profound affect on me as an artist. but more broadly, writing fic for that fandom - about 200k words of it in eight months - taught me some very important things:
how to write a lot of words very, very quickly
how to let go of something being perfect - no one knows who I am on ao3 and people are just happy to have fic for a small fandom, so it doesn't have to be GOOD
how to write physicality - this is very hard for me, even now. I'm an audio first person, I rarely think about what people look like, how they move their bodies, etc. writing fic is so helpful, because if you're using canon scenes, you don't have to come up with the blocking, you just have to figure out how to describe it.
dialogue/character voice - learning how to mimic a writer's style is good from two perspectives: one, you learn more about style and voice by having to unpack someone else's. two, as a writer working in a scripted medium, you often are trying to write to an established style, because you might be in a writer's room for a world that you didn't create.
this is a less tangible effect, but writing mature works for a fandom that has mostly morally gray characters helped me get more comfortable with being bolder in my own work. Desperate Hollow is about two men in the wild west, one of whom has killed a lot of people, and both of whom are career criminals. the show I'm working on currently has the messiest found family dynamic and it will only get messier. I think in the course of writing TBS, I sometimes got scared of doing the wrong thing, or of leaning too hard into the darker parts of the story, and I'm trying to let my characters and stories be deeply imperfect now.
I hope that answers your questions!
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chaoticquill · 10 months ago
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Why Are We STILL Doing This?
I'm just going to straight up say the worst thing you can do as a reader is praise a writer in one breath, then backhandedly bash their ships in the next.
Let me explain.
I'm not talking about the "I don't normally ship x, but I gave this a chance since you wrote it" comments. Because that's fine. It's totally within your right to ship and not ship whatever.
I'm talking about, "Wow, this person's x ship work is so good! But ew, they ship y. Gross."
Y'all, I write fanfic because I want to. No one's paying me to do this. I love the community I've found in doing it, but then, I see people behaving badly, and I get a lot of feelings (hint: none of them are good ones. Mostly angry, a little sad).
I've been targeted and harassed for my ships on AO3. And because I am who I am, I have embraced the petty urge to write that ship I've been told not to EVEN HARDER.
Not everyone is like that. Talking shit about a person because of the ships they like can be really bad for that person's mental health. I know people who have stopped writing popular ships because of the hate they get for their less popular ones despite clear tagging, and it's even more infuriating when I see the same people talking shit get all sad because the writer quit writing the ship they (the reader) likes.
Sometimes, I ask myself, "Why can't we all just try to make this weird wonky fandom space we share in such a way that people's mental health doesn't crumble and they get all the joy out of their fan works they seek?" Then I remember people are people.
Hard ask, but if you don't like a ship, maybe instead of speaking in ways that damage other people, you can just say, "I don't personally like that ship" and not read the thing. Hell, there are ships I don't like, and I can just avoid them because tags. (Yes, I know it's not that easy, but hell, I'm trying anyway).
TL;DR: I saw people being assholes, I have feelings, and I want those people to stop being assholes.
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huurrefanfictionreadinglog · 10 months ago
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Fanfiction Reading Log
I did Fanfiction Reading Log to Google Sheets with really cool and neatly looking statistics and I thought it would be nice to share to everybody.
The list of updates and links to the update info post are in the end of this post.
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Please mind that I'm still in the middle of testing it and I've found one bug I don't know how to fix it and I'm going to update as I find some mistakes, so you might be better to save also the link to the original file (it can be also found from Instructions sheet). I'm not professional with Excel/Google Sheets so all the feedback will be taken with huge thanks and I will do my best to fix every problem you might have, but just a warning: I have full time job, full time school and everything else going on in my life (for example huge fanfic I'm writing), so it might not be fast.
This is mostly for AO3 fanfics, but of course you can put there anything you want! I did this, because I have all the time time over 200 tabs open in my phone's browser and I'm still always trying to find something new to read, because "I don't have anything on my TBR". So yeah, here you go & if you have any ideas you would want to add there, you can also let me know that so I can think of it! :)
Update on March 12th: This is starting to look pretty good and I am going to update changes here, so please follow along if you want to know about updates. I'm trying to figure out some easy ways to keep people updated if they want to get some kind of notification when I've published new update.
Updates
Version 1.2 (March 12th, 2024) read more
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irrevocableloves · 1 year ago
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violent delights
twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader
chapter one: the city of forks welcomes you
masterlist ౨ৎ chapter two
summary: y/n swan has lived in forks all of her life, but when she takes her summer-long vacation to california to visit her mother, she returns to a strange new family accompanying her small town.
warnings: swearing, angst
words: 1.8k
a/n: this has been in my drafts for so so long and tbh i haven't written a fanfic since i was 12... and i'm fr 22, but i've ran out of twilight fanfics to read (i've been waiting weeks for one specific one to update and i'm going crazy)... so anyways !! hope you enjoy !!
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Opening my eyes, I was greeted with the trees of Forks, Washington. After an almost four hour drive, I could sense that I was nearing my home as the city was nowhere to be found. Instead it was replaced with deep green trees, dim skies, and the small shops that swept by as my dad drove.
I liked Forks, more than I probably should. Everyone here, mostly the kids, sulked about big bright cities where the sun would actually make an appearance. They longed for the liveliness that Forks had never given them.
But me? I secretly adored the quietness of it all. But of course, I had a disadvantage. Every summer I bathed in the sun rays of California, visited the busy cities, the warm beaches, and the overall liveliness that was craved from everyone else. But I was drained. Normally, it would be the opposite from any other person, but I always loved the cold. Ever since I was a kid, my little brain was wired to believe that Forks was almost like Christmas every single day of the year. So, rain, snow, or even ice (even with the ungodly amount of times I've slipped) never had me in too big of a rut.
With my mom back in California, though I loved her to death, was an absolute headache most of the time. And unlike my dad, she hovered. But, it wasn't her fault. The summer is the only time she had me, the rest were reserved with Charlie, which had resulted in this summer's mishaps: she begged me to stay longer. One would think that school would be an easy get out, but she knew the first month was nothing but dry introductions, syllabi, and effortless assignments. It was partly my fault. I was never one to turn her down, perhaps it was guilt because maybe she and I felt deep down that I favored my father more because who could ever turn down a chance to live in the perfect bustling city of San Francisco over Forks.
So I stayed. But now, it's the beginning of October. Thankfully, I was able to get in contact with the school in order to get all of my classes in order, as well as the help of my best friend, Angela, who emailed me all of the assignments. Jessica on the other hand, filled me in on all of the gossip. Her phone calls consisted of talks about her massive crush on Mike as well as the new and "totally weird" (as Jessica put it) family. "Suuupperrr pale, but weirdly GORGEOUS. I mean this Edward guy, he's wow. I swear if Mike doesn't make a move soon... I wonder if I could make him jealous?" The conversations were mostly one-sided, always either complaining about Mike's obliviousness or never catching that new guy's attention.
Now that I knew I was caught up on everything to do with school, all I wanted was to bury myself in bed and prepare for an alarm that hasn't been set in months.
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I awoke to the sound of a car honking outside my window, assuming it was nothing, I settled back into my pillows, throwing my purple duvet back over your head for hopefully another thirty minutes of sleep.
"Y/N/N!" I heard my dad's voice accompanied by one of his famously loud whistles from outside of my window. That's when I finally got up and peered over with squinting eyes to see my father coming out of a car that most definitely wasn't his squad car.
Once my vision settled, I saw a green Volkswagen beetle parked in the driveway. No fucking way. I sprinted down the stairs and flung the front door open to see my father with a wide grin, gesturing the keys in front of my face.
"For me? You're joking?" I said in complete shock.
"You want me to be joking? Cause if so I can just bring this right back to Billy and let him sell it to some other geezer."
"No! No! No! I mean... Thank you, dad. Oh my god, how did you guys even find this?"
"Well, consider it a late birthday present. Billy and Jacob found it back in May for your birthday and decided to fix it up for ya, free of charge, but I paid 'em of course."
"Thanks dad and how about we invite Billy and Jacob over sometime and I'll cook? As a thank you?"
"You bet."
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Once I parked in front of the school, my group of friends welcomed me with open arms, with Angela and Jessica squealing about how much they missed you and the boys, mostly just Mike, trying to awkwardly hug me.
I knew Mike had a crush on me, since third grade to be exact, which only made it worse for my friendship with Jessica, which made it worse for Lauren, Jessica's bestest friend to have an even better reason to despise me.
The first four classes: English, Government, Trigonometry, and French were surprisingly a breeze thanks to the assignments either Angela or the teachers sent over while I was away.
While at lunch, a new, unfamiliar bunch emerged from the cafeteria doors. They were beautiful... and also extremely pale even for Forks. So, this was the family Jessica was practically drooling over?
"Who are they?" I questioned anyways.
Jessica leans in, being careful to whisper, "It's the family I was telling you about. Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska like last month."
I studied the first girl who walked in, bleached blonde hair, almost black eyes that were almost unsettling, she wore a thin grey coat and a knitted white scarf that matched her icy skin, and a necklace with a large charm that looked to be a family crest of some sort.
"The blonde girl, Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett..." Jessica continued.
More of the family gathered in slowly, the blonde was linking hands with a man with jet black hair, with the same family crest residing on his wrist.
"... they're a thing. I'm not even sure that's legal." Jessica grimaced.
Angela piped in, "Jess, they're not actually related."
"But they live together and all wear that weird creepy crest like some sort of cult. And the little dark haired girl, Alice, she's really weird..."
Despite Jessica's remarks, Alice was the one who caught my eye the most so far and not in a negative way. She reminded me of a fairy almost with her pixie-like hair cut, her style, and the way she carried herself, which was pretty whimsical in a way. Her arms were locked with a man beside her, bleached blonde just as Rosalie was.
"... she's with Jasper, the blonde who looks like he's in pain" Jessica continued on, "I mean, Dr. Cullen's like this foster dad slash match maker."
"Maybe he'll adopt me." Angela giggled.
The last Cullen to enter, I assumed it was Edward, the man Jessica claimed to be weirdly gorgeous and 'wow'. 'Wow' was the perfect word to explain how I felt as he strode down the cafeteria. I couldn't keep your eyes off of him, even as he went past your table, I was oddly captivated by his presence. He had a lanky body, matched with the same pale skin as his siblings, bronze hair and striking smirk. You could've sworn he heard Jessica's whispered remarks from across the cafeteria.
"He's totally gorgeous, obviously. But apparently, no one here is good enough for him. Like I care." She does. "Anyway, don't waste your time."
"I wasn't planning on it." I looked away before his eyes could find mine and once I did, I felt as if holes were practically burned at the back of my head. Was he staring?
Out of curiosity, I peered over my shoulder, quickly glancing, seeing his eyes on mine and quickly turning my eyes back, slowly hiding behind my hair.
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Before I walked into Biology, I shuffled through my backpack to look for the assignments I'd done in your time away, settling them in my hands as I walked through the door.
Greeting Mr. Banner, I handed him my completed assignments that were neatly put together with a paper clip.
"Finally nice to see you Miss Y/L/N, how was your summer?" Being great at biology put you at an advantage, not only for assignments, but because Mr. Banner didn't question much about my month long disappearance, but I couldn't say the same about PE...
"It was good, thank you."
"Well that's great, I'm glad! And I appreciate your completed assignments, not even people attending have it all quite done like you have!" He rambled. "So! Your seat... There's a seating chart, but there should be an empty seat I left for you...,yes! Right there, next to Mr. Cullen." Mr. Banner pointed to the right side of the classroom to the seat next to the Cullen boy.
Edward's eyes once again felt as if they burned through my own, staring at me as if you had wronged him in some way. The hatred in his eyes was well aware, but for what reason?
With each step I took, the more disgust in his features appeared, almost as if he was holding his breath. Did I stink or something? I attempted not to smell myself to see if perhaps I had raging body odor or even a bad breath that radiated from across the classroom. No one else seemed to have an issue besides him.
Once I was sat, I heard him mutter into a cough, but I only made eye contact with his beading black eyes and said nothing at all. He only pushed the microscope towards me slowly, being careful to not come any closer to me as if he would catch something.
I sighed loudly, making my annoyance well known. He only just tensed.
Throughout the entirety of the class, the tension continued. I even considered going up to Mr. Banner and asking to switch seats with someone, but that only sparked the possibility of Mike forcing Eric to switch seats and I honestly couldn't figure out which would be worse. So, I decided to suffer through the entire hour and perhaps learn to suffer the entire year partnered with a man who could hardly even look me in the eye without being utterly disgusted.
At first I was hurt, but the hurt swiftly turned into annoyance once the partner sessions began. He didn't even consult with me, rather he just scribbled as fast as he could, only of what he was able to see through the microscope, only handing it to me after to check his answers. All correct, surprisingly.
Staring at the clock, I was counting down the time until the bell. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Edward had gotten up, practically running out of the classroom before the bell had officially rung.
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