#and i tried just tale a break from everyone and it just makes me feel worse

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello, Miss Raven!

I hope you are having a nice day ^^

I was wondering since you don't have a Yuusona, have you ever thought making your own Yuusona like what traits, gender and personality would you have for them?

And how would their relationship be with Miss Raven would they be friends?

Sorry if I'm asking something you don't feel comfortable answering just feel free to ignore it. I'm enjoying your work and I'm new here so I hope I wasn't a bother! Love your work 🫶

I’ve thought about making a Yuu of my own on more than one occasion. However, I’ve never been a fan of the roles designated for self-inserts… It’s hard to commit. Even if I were to make my Yuu less of a Yuusona (ie just Me but in the Twst world) and more of an OC (an entity totally separate from myself), I always lose motivation somewhere along the way.

That’s of course not to disparage anyone who has a Yuu though!! I just personally find it a struggle to design around a somewhat predetermined identity. There’s less freedom in a Yuu because they have to meet certain parameters in order to “make sense” in the story. For example, Yuus are generally from our ordinary world and magicless. I don’t like having those limitations (and though I could go against it, I’d refrain in order to not break canon lore). That’s why my first Twst OC is very far removed and exists as her own thing.

For fun, here’s some of my scraped Yuu concepts, including doodles. They're not really "Yuusonas" though, more like original characters that happen to be filing in for Yuu:

Yuu 1: Mad Scientist Yuu

The earliest iteration.

This Yuu is ~16, male. Considered nonbinary at one point too.

The notes in the image basically describe him. Germaphobe, has lots of band-aids (because he is accident-prone), constantly tired + has dark undereye circles due to excess stress and lack of sleep.

Frequently seen in face mask, lab coat, and latex gloves.

“Don’t bother me” energy. Very curt with people and just wants to be left alone.

Claims to be an egalitarian because he “hates everyone equally”.

As the story went on, he would have learned to lighten up and work with others too. Basically, the same arc the NRC students have.

I didn't think too deeply about what his relationship with Miss Raven would be like... Most likely, he just dislikes and avoids her like he does the rest of the NRC population.

Yuu 2: “Robert Philip the Divorce Lawyer” Yuu

Twisted from the divorce lawyer love interest in Enchanted 😭 YES, I SAID WHAt i SAiD���

This Yuu is 35ish, male.

Has a very girly young daughter back home. She is basically his motivation to return.

His ex-wife left him. (YES I AM KEEPING THIS LORE.) Has sworn off love since then but is dating another woman for practical reasons.

Very anti-romance and anti-fairy tales.

Somewhat grumpy.

Logical, pragmatic. Some would say calculating.

Constantly arguing with Crowley because he knows his rights and how many laws Crowley is violating/j

He wouldn’t have been a student but more like a faculty member and father figure to the NRC students. By being in Twisted Wonderland, he helps to mentor the boys as though they were his own children, and the boys in turn teach him about magic, imagination, and believing even in seemingly impossible things.

Had an idea about him finding true love in Twisted Wonderland too; this would basically be his Giselle. Maybe a kind lady from Foothill Town??

Robert!Yuu was going to be sort of a secondary father figure to Miss Raven. Crowley is her real guardian, but he's usually not fulfilling the typical duties of a guardian so Robert!Yuu has to step up. In a lot of ways, Miss Raven reminds him of an older version of his own daughter so he has a soft spot for her. He also tries his best to advise her on life and boys. I imagine that he and Miss Raven have that Hades and Megara scene where she's gushing about Hercules and Hades goes, "Please. HE'S A GUY!!"

Yuus 3 and 4: Twin Yuus

The bangs they have are borrowed from Robert!Yuu because I liked them and was too lazy to try something new out—

They’re brother and sister, both 17. I wanted to play around with the concept of multiple Yuus in Twisted Wonderland at the same time. Twins because they are supposed to be “a mirror image” of the other.

The theme these two would explore is gender, particularly expectations vs reality.

They come from an old money family; each twin has very traditionally gendered expectations placed on them but their secret is they swap places and pretend to be the other twin so as to get out of their own responsibilities, as the girl is tomboyish and the boy is more feminine.

They continue this act in Twisted Wonderland in order to "protect" one another, but their relationship becomes strained with each OB. For example, the male twin would become increasing protective, feeling like it is his responsibility to keep his sister safe. This would earn him his sister's ire since he never smothered her before. The twins would eventually reconcile and come to reach a middle ground regarding one another's expression of their gender and how that informs their behavior toward one another.

In another variation, only the male-presenting twin would be isekai'd to Twisted Wonderland. It would later be revealed that "he" is actually a "she". The explanation that she provides for acting masculine is to rebel against the expectations of her family (who had arranged a marriage for her prior to her being isekai'd).

... But then there's ANOTHER twist 🤡 and it turns out that her "masculine self" closely resembles her actual twin brother (who is now deceased). The idea is that she partly acts this way as a trauma response and relies a lot on "speaking" with her brother for advice on how to move forward in Twisted Wonderland. Like, she has pretend conversations with him in her head.

Her character arc would have been centered around detaching herself from the expectations placed on her, as well as learning to let her brother go and become her own person.

ASDSBDABSDOSA I feel like Miss Raven would be so confused trying to keep track of the twins and/or the single twin's dramatic backstory. She'd be pretty cordial with them though! Maybe even tries to counsel them when they're fighting or closed off from others.

Yuu 5: Ara Ara Onee-san Yuu (WIP name is Sumire -> Suu -> her variation of “Yuu”, lol)

The best designed one, probably.

The only one with a proper name, too :v

She's 18 and female!

Started off as a joke between me and a friend. We were talking about how we think many of the first year students would be into "onee-san" types.

As you may or may not be able to tell by the design, she's meant to be a caring big sister character. Sweet, patient, and motherly. Even gardens and bakes! The type you know you can always go to when you need advice or comforting.

YEAH I GAVE HER DEAD ANIME MOM HAIR, SO WHAT???? The bangs swooping over one side of her face gives her sort of a mysterious air!

She looks very kind (and that's because she is), but she is also very air-headed. Like she'll pick up a worm and hold it in your face and ask you if you think it's cute.

Has a secret sadistic side. Not malicious and won't go out of her way to cause problems, but she'll gush about how she thinks you being frustrated or struggling with a task is "cute".

The arc Sumire would go on is one revolving around her status as the "older sister" of the group and finding a "pure" way of loving her friends. There's nothing wrong with having that role, but her issue is that she relies on it to be her personality and often gives away too much of herself at the cost of her own mental and emotional wellbeing.

It's like... codependency. She loves you because (whether she knows it or not) because she NEEDS validation from others. And because she wants that validation so much, she forces herself to be someone she's not at her core. Someone agreeable and sweet. That becomes very taxing for her.

If she feels as though someone is going to leave her, she'll either love bomb or have a mental breakdown in private. TO BE CLEAR, this is not healthy behavior and she's supposed to grow out of this obsessiveness over the course of the main story.

By that logic, she's more manipulative and selfish than she seems at a glance. I guess you could describe her true personality as being yandere or even menhara?? But she usually masks it well.

Miss Raven has a history of falling for pretty smiles, so I think she'd also be a victim of this one. She would look up to Sumire as like "the peak lady" and the big sis she's always wanted. REALLY feeding into her secret ego there, Miss Raven... and Sumire, being herself, would just giggle and pat her on the head to keep that toxic relationship going.

[hyperexplosion]

I don't want bother friends with a vent so I am here

[brunchable]

Ouch, My Face | Dad Bucky Barnes x f!reader x Bucky's daughter.

Pairings: Dad!Bucky Barnes x f!reader x daughter

Themes: Funny as in Bucky's reaction. Mentions of school teasing/bullying.

Summary: You and Bucky have been called to the Principal's office because your daughter Bianca hit another kid with her lunchbox.

A/N: I just feel like Bucky would do something like this 😂. . .

The tension in the principal’s office is almost suffocating, the kind that makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat and wonder just how far you can push the limits before someone snaps. But not little Bianca Barnes. No, she sits perched at the edge of her chair, feet swinging, hands folded primly in her lap like she wasn’t just hauled into the principal’s office for smacking another kid across the face with a metal lunchbox.

Principal Torres clears his throat, looking between the three of you with a wary expression. “Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, I called you both in because there was an...incident today during lunch.”

You part your lips, half-ready to apologize profusely, when Bianca cuts in, her tiny voice bursting with righteous indignation.

“She started it!” Bianca’s face flushes red as she leans forward, eyes blazing. “That big girl said I was dumb ‘cause I can’t read good. She said, ‘I bet you can’t read what’s on my hand!’” Bianca mimics the older girl’s mocking tone, raising a tiny fist as if to make the same gesture.

Principal Torres blinks, bemused. “And what was written on the other girl’s hand, Bianca?”

Bianca takes a deep breath, throwing her arms wide. “‘Ouch, my face.’” That’s definitely not what was written on the girl's hand.

There’s a giant pause in the room as everyone processes that declaration.

“She called me a liar,” Bianca continues, steamrolling on as if she hasn’t just declared the most absurd statement. “She said, ‘No way, that’s not what it says, you’re so dumb you can’t even read.’ But I didn’t back down, no way.”

She shakes her head furiously. “I just thought, what would Daddy do?”

You shoot Bucky a sharp look, one eyebrow lifting as you slowly turn your head toward him. Bianca’s voice fades into the background as your expression narrows into something suspicious, your lips slightly pursed, eyes boring into Bucky as if silently saying, Did you seriously tell our daughter to hit someone?

Bucky shifts in his seat. From the corner of your eye, you see him glance sideways at you, his face stiffening as if he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His mouth twitches, the hint of a guilty smirk threatening to break through, but he tries his best to appear serious—innocent even. With a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head, he mouths, What?

You don’t blink, your suspicion growing stronger. Slowly, you turn your gaze back toward Bianca, who is still animatedly recounting her tale. Then, as if you share one brain, you and Bianca both turn back to Bucky, the same unimpressed look mirrored on both of your faces.

Bucky’s stiff expression melts into a defensive half-smile, a silent plea of Don’t look at me like that. He shifts again, looking more and more like a kid caught sneaking candy before dinner.

You cross your arms, gaze flicking up and down his form, as if daring him to deny his involvement. Bianca stops speaking mid-sentence, noticing the way you and Bucky stare each other down.

“What?” Bucky finally mutters, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in the ghost of a smile.

“Daddy said the lunchbox was the best weapon,” Bianca pipes up suddenly, blinking innocently between you and Bucky.

Your eyes widen a fraction, and you turn fully in your seat to face Bucky. The look you give him then is one for the books—one brow arched high, chin tilted in that knowing way that says, I knew it!

“Then I hit her with my lunchbox!” Bianca declares triumphantly, crossing her arms over her chest.

You turn back to your daughter, jaw hanging open. “Bianca—”

“But she didn’t fall down,” Bianca mutters, clearly displeased. “She just went, ‘Ouch, my face,’ like I knew she would.”

Another pause.

You turn your head again, slowly this time, fixing Bucky with a narrowed look, one that screams This is your fault. He shifts slightly, schooling his expression into one of feigned innocence.

“Don’t look at me,” he mouths, raising his hands just the slightest, the picture of a man who isn’t at all responsible for his daughter’s violent sense of justice.

But the guilt is all over him. You recognize the barely concealed pride lurking in the corners of his eyes, the twitch of his lips threatening to curve into a grin. You narrow your eyes at him, exhaling sharply through your nose.

Principal Torres clears his throat again, and you snap your head back, trying to hide your own incredulity. “Mrs. Barnes, I think we need to have a discussion about—”

“About what?” Bucky’s voice is a lazy drawl, but there’s an edge to it, protective and almost daring. “Bianca defended herself against a bully.”

You shoot him a look, a clear not helping expression that Bucky answers with another side-along glance that’s almost sheepish. Sorry, he mouths, but it’s clear he isn’t.

“Mr. Barnes,” Principal Torres begins, clearly exasperated. “We’re not encouraging physical altercations as the first response here.”

“Sure, sure,” Bucky says agreeably, nodding along. “Just tell your kids to keep their hands to themselves. Then mine won’t need to step in.”

You groan softly, burying your face in your hands. Bucky’s gaze flicks over to you, and you can feel his amusement.

When you finally peek through your fingers, Bianca is still going on, explaining in minute detail how she calculated the exact swing angle of her lunchbox. You shoot Bucky one last look, shaking your head slightly.

He just shrugs with a grin that could only be described as smug.

You can’t help the exasperated smile tugging at your lips. “Bianca, honey,” you murmur gently, drawing your daughter’s attention. “Next time, let’s use our words first, okay?”

Bianca beams, nodding enthusiastically. “Okay, Mommy. But only if the words are really, really strong ones.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, and Bucky chuckles softly. That’s his daughter alright. Parenthood is going to be a long, long road, especially with the two of you.

[keerysfreckles]

sparks fly — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: “drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain. kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain” — or when y/n goes to lando's childhood home in england, after her night turned for the worst.

warnings: abusive relationship, cursing, not proofread

a/n: shoutout to pookie nat for finally getting me into taylor 🙏

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n knew from the moment she watched her first rom-com, she would find a love like the movies. how to lose a guy in ten days. thirteen going on thiry. ten things i hate about you. twenty seven dresses.

the list could go on. she was more than positive she'd find someone to love her the same way these fictional men loved their partners.

y/n met her first love during her spring break of her second year of uni. she could've sworn they were meant to be. they had plenty in common. they were studying the same major, both loved hockey, both wanted to study abroad someday, in paris or germany.

she thought it was perfect. until the fairy tale castle started crumbling.

during their third year of uni, y/n noticed patrick changing. he got more focused with his school work, but became more aggressive when y/n was involved.

y/n thought at first it was just the stress from exams coming up. she justified it as everyone's on edge, getting antsy for the year to be done with.

however it only fell downhill. the words of aggression turned into loud yells heard from their shard apartment at late hours. the yelling turned into patrick throwing any item he could find, which soon turned into y/n dodging almost everything patrick threw.

he hasn't hit her yet, which was possibly the only thing keeping y/n in the relationship. she really believed he could change. but as days passed, and his anger only progressed, she wasn't sure the old patrick was still inside.

sure, the man would always try to make it up to her. a million open eneded apologies could only do so much.

on the twenty third of october, that's when shit hit the fan.

"patrick please, just let me go to bed. it's late, we're both angry and not thinking right," y/n tried reasoning with him, knowing her words don't mean a thing to him.

"no, you're going to tell me what you were doing out so late."

y/n only lets out a scoff. it was the same fight almost every time she went out with friends, or simply went to the library to study. patrick never believed her.

"for the last time, i was out with jess. all we did was go shopping," y/n explains again. her own anger starts rising. she feels the bottle inside her shaking, getting ready to explode.

she stands from the couch, walking to their shared room.

"you think you can walk away from me?" patrick quickly follows, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

"what is your problem!" y/n finally shouts, "you never believe me. what do you think i'm doing? cheating on you? how can i do that when you barely let me leave this goddamn apartment?"

y/n's breath heaved. she felt a small pressure release as she finally got the courage to yell at the man standing in front of her.

"who do you think you are?"

as patrick spoke, he stepped closer to y/n. causing her to step back, eventually becoming trapped between the him and the wall.

"who gave you the right to talk to me like that?" patrick seethed, before reaching out and grabbing y/n's wrist.

his grip only tightened when she let out pained sounds, as tears started forming in her eyes.

she tried prying his hand off her wrist with her other one, "let go," she begged.

y/n started kicking. she didn't know where her feet were ending up, but was grateful patrick had started backing away from her movements.

she managed to release her wrist from his hold, and ran towards the bedroom door. grabbing anything she could before leaving the apartment, she was able to grab her phone and her shoes.

patrick tried grabbing at her again, yelling and begging for her to come back. she was still struggoing to slip her shoes on even when she got outside.

y/n swore she still heard patrick's yelling from where she stood.

once she got at least a block away, the tears couldn't help but fall. her vision became fuzzy as she kept walking. she kept tripping over he untied shoe laces, stepping in the puddles from the rain beginning to fall from her sky.

as if the rain was matching y/n's mood.

in the ten minutes she continued to mindlessly walk, y/n couldn't believe how stupid she had been. scolding herself for staying with the man who only made her the worst version of herself.

y/n kept walking, until she seemed to find herself in an all too familiar neighborhood. she couldn't even begin to count the times she's been here.

she tries ridding her tears, knowing its no use as her eyes are probably bright red and puffy.

she begins to knock on the door of the house she knows too well. as her hand leaves the wood, her mind only begins to spiral.

what are you doing? they might not even be home. this could be too much for them to handle. they won't want to see me. they can't do anything–

the sound of locks turning brought y/n back from inside her mind.

cisca stood on the other side of the door, in the warmly lit house. her heart broke at the sight of y/n drenched from the rain, her shoes barely holding onto her feet, and her shaking hands.

"oh darling," cisca starts.

"i didn't know where else to go," y/n's voice shakes as cisca lets her inside. she's gone for a moment, before coming back with a towel for the girl.

"you know you're welcome here any time," cisca brought y/n towards the living room, not caring if the couch gets wet. she can always fix it later.

"you dry off some more, i'll be back with a cup of tea," cisca rubs y/n's arm before leaving for the kitchen. the older woman's mind wanders to all the possibilities for why y/n was at their home at the late hour.

minutes pass and cisca sets the warm cup of tea in y/n's hands, instantly receiving a thank you from her.

cisca gasps slightly at the bruise already forming around y/n's wrist. "sweetheart, what happened?"

she rubs her back as y/n explains everything to the woman. from the point patrick began getting verbally violent, to the events that happened no less then half an hour ago.

cisca couldn't believe her ears. the sweet y/n she knew would never have stayed with someone like that, but cisca hardly knows her at any more. ever since she started uni she rarely comes over to her best friends childhood home.

after pulling y/n into a much needed hug, cisca began setting up the extra bedroom. while y/n stayed on the couch, finishing the cup of tea in her hands.

"hey mom, i heard noise from my room. everything okay?" lando peeks his head into the spare bedroom, instantly confused to why his mother is setting up the bed.

"y/n is out there, and she just needs to be comforted right now, okay? she's had a rough night," cisca explains as lando nods in understanding.

lando walks through the hallway towards the living room, and just like his mother, his heart sinks at the sight of y/n. she's hunched over on the couch, finally getting warmer from being out in the rain.

"i thought i heard noise out here," lando chuckles, hoping a light hearted mood might fix the atmosphere around y/n.

once their eyes meet, he knows one slightly fun comment won't make anything better. he sees her bloodshot eyes, and worried expression.

"oh, baby," the nickname slips through his lips. one he's called her many times in the past.

he kneels in front of her to wrap his arms tightly around her waist, as hers reach for his shoulders.

he didn't know how much comforting she needed, but could only guess it was a lot after she started crying against his shoulder.

he continued to hold her, rubbing his hands up and down her back. his heart started to break once she started shaking in his arms. a mixture from the crying and her body finally letting the stress and anxiety get to her.

"i should've listened to you," y/n mumbled against his shoulder.

lando doesn't respond, knowing exactly what the girl meant.

her grip loosened slightly on his shoulders, now just resting her hands there as she looks at him.

"you were right. he wasn't a good guy. you had a feeling and i should've listened to you," y/n rambles on, knowing lando's been right about patrick since the first time the two men met.

"what did he do?" lando asks, moving his hands to hers. however, his fingers brush over y/n's brusing skin. the action makes her flinch slightly, and lando's heart breaks for the second time that night.

"i shouldn't have come here," y/n states, beginning to shake her head back and forth. "i'm sorry."

"you have nothing to be sorry for, you can stay," lando tries to reason with her.

he continues to try even when he follows her back out in the rain.

"y/n! just come inside!" he runs after her, his socks getting damp from the drying puddles outside. he looks up, the rainfall definitely slowed, but y/n's hair was beginning to get wet again.

"no lando, it's fine. i'll go back there for the night. he's probably calmed down by now."

lando reaches y/n, "you can't possibly want to go back there. he hurt you. you can barely move your wrist because of the bastard."

y/n turned to see lando looking at her, his curls falling slightly from the drizzling rain.

"you can't go back there y/n."

"i've already ruined yours and your mom's night."

lando laughs, "that's the last thing you've done. you and i both know you're more than welcome to stay the night."

after minutes of silence, lando speaks up again while stepping closer to y/n.

"i want you to come inside. i want you to be comfortable and safe."

it's as if a switch went off in y/n's head. a switch she's surprised didn't go off sooner.

seeing lando like this, standing in the rain in front of her. wanting nothing more than to make sure she's protected. something patrick would never have done, during any circumstances.

he watches her eyes flick between his own and his lips.

he lets out a shuddered breath as she simply begins walking closer to him.

"y/n, you went through way too much tonight. i don't want to add to any of your stress."

y/n shakes her head, "lando i've never been more sure of anything."

lando's hands find their way to her waist as she finally steps in front of him.

"take away my pain lando, please. you're the only person who's been here for everything. you're the only one i need. i'm so stupid for not seeing it earlier. i should've never went on that stupid date. i should've listened to you, and– and if i did i would've been here so much sooner."

y/n catches her breath. her heart hammers in her chest waiting for lando's reaction.

tears begin to blur her vision once more, her emotions getting the better of her as lando doesn't respond.

"lan, please say something. you're what i want, not h–"

y/n stumbles back slightly from the impact of lando's lips pushing against hers. her hands hold onto his face, scared that if she let's go, she might just be imagining this.

"please, let me take you back in–"

now y/n cuts off lando's words, making the man laugh into the kiss. the sound and feeling sending shivers up y/n's spine.

lando breaks the kiss, but feels y/n's breath fanning over his lips.

"now can you please come back inside?"

"one more," y/n mumbles against his lips before he has the chance to reject her offer.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

F! Yuu’s Dad in Twst Wonderland Headcanons pt. 2

Pt.1 Pt.3 Pt.4

Heartslabyul, Octavinelle, Scarabia, and Pomefiore are genuinely the only dorms that respect your dad.

Savannaclaw keeps trying to fight him with the exception of Jack, Ruggie, and Leona.

Ignihyde fears your father. Mainly because your father thinks Idia is some form of a perverted weirdo.

🦀: Yuu, that weird boy is looking at you and your cat again.

🎮: Please let me touch your cat…

🦀:….I’m going to give you five minutes to get away from us.

Meanwhile, Diasomnia, is still amused your dad tried to beat up Malleus.

The core emotions and feelings of Diasomnia towards Yuu’s dad is the following:

Malleus: Amused and now takes gaining any sort of relationship with you as a challenge

Silver: A bit wary of your dad but still gets why he’s so protective over you

Sebek: Wants to beat him up for threatening Malleus and thinks he can win

Lilia: As a father he understands and is probably going to tell Malleus not to purposefully irritate your father for his own good.

After witnessing Riddle’s overblot, your father is convinced on staying at the Isle Sage’s hotel

Or maybe trying RSA

Whatever option comes first.

In fact, he actually tried to bolt out of NRC after the Savannaclaw overblot.

🦀: Yuu! Yuu! Yuu, listen to me! These kids are not right in the head. A hyena furry boy was using magic to control people’s bodies so they fall down the stairs. For a school tournament! And the lion furry man, BY THE WAY, he is 20! He tried to turn everyone into sand!

🦐: Dad, please, they’re my friends and I give them comfort. Plus Riddle and Leona were having a mental health crisis.

🦀: These kids are serial killers or murders in the making! We should’ve ran when we found out they worshipped Disney villains!

You end up running out of NRC with your father with Grim, and by the time morning came, someone has already found you.

♥️: Yo. I heard Yuu was staying here now.

🦀: How did you find us?

♥️: Um…I had a bit of help…more like magic spell really.

Deuce, Epel, Jack, Silver, and Sebek step out from behind Ace.

🦀: *Sigh* Look, I get we teleported into your school, but we really don’t need to stay there-

🦐: Dad, can’t I attend school there until we go home? It’s perfect.

🦀: They literally don’t even have a girls bathroom for you to use.

🦐: Doesn’t matter. I can use the bathroom when no one is in there.

Then things heat up when Malleus appears.

🐉: There you are, Child of Man. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.

🦀: Let me guess, you didn’t see her inside her room when you floated by? Like you usually do when you think no one notices?

🐉: Child of Man, would you like to go to my gargoyles club meeting? It’s really only me, but together we can bring more people.

🦀: That is the worst lie for a date I’ve ever heard. Also, her name is Yuu not Child of Man. And this Man is named F/N. Besides, we still don’t know your actually name Hornyton.

The mocking of the nickname Yuu picked out for him causes him to get upset. Which inadvertently activated the fairy tale fae behavior.

🐉: You know, a name is a very important thing to give away. If I give my name to you, you must give something to me.

🦀: You realize I can just break into Crowley’s office and get your school records or just ask anyone what your name is, right?

🐉: Perhaps, your daughter might be something of equal value to give. My name for a girl with an otherworldly name. I assure you I’ll treat her well if you give her to-

Your dad punches Malleus square in the nose and KOs him.

⚡️: WAKA-SAMA!

❤️&♠️: Damn.

🗡️: I told him not to make being in a relationship with Yuu a challenge.

🍎: Nice right hook.

🐺: What good form.

Your dad shuts the door, and packs up your stuff again.

You move back into Ramshackle the next day, but this time there’s iron hanging around the doors and windows.

[neverheroes]

Here’s a bunch of stuff in the MM Tales of the TMNT comic-con sneak-peek I thought about too much!

They’ve cared so much about showing how differently they each react to and process the same situation.

Through the scene Raph is excited to tear things up and true to every iteration ever tries things his way until it doesn’t work, Don’s flight response pings into analyst mode and you just know he’s figuring out how to break stuff, Mike is thriving in team-mode and keeping them all on track, and Leo flails around like a giant ball of chronic anxiety before figuring out a plan. They’re original formula with gently new toppings and I’m ready for this slice.

Raphael

This guy! We get so much. He’s rearing to do some fighting that isn’t sparring and be free to do some actual damage. So we know he’s bored fighting is brothers and wants a challenge. He can’t handle this one and in figuring that out is “open to suggestions” which is quite the overlooked Raph quality, he’ll listen he just has to work through that impulsive reactive streak first. He’s strong and knows it, and that robot gets a harder fight. The Raph highlight for me was taking time while fighting to honour the time-old tradition of making fun of Michelangelo. <Sobs in last ronin.>

Donatello

This kid, man! It’s a long standing opinion of mine that everyone should be more scared of Donatello. His interest in understanding the threat overrides most of his fear. Cerebral af. This is his face most of the time while a robot programmed to obliterate him is directly behind him. On the surface it looks like he’s running away a lot, but he can’t exactly press pause on it to figure out how they work. His gentle heart characterisation is well intact, apologising to the robot when he damages it having already personified the thing. I honestly believe he would take it home like he’d found a new pet if that were an option.

Michelangelo

What a show of Mikey magic. He’s got the comedy relief on a casual setting with subtle jokes and unintentionally antagonistic observation style. Mike has a tiny attention span but is 100% in every moment and they draw a lot of attention to his speed and agility. He shines doing what Mikey is known so well for; keeping the family together. It was awesome to see him effectively orienting his brothers into the situation, and see them listen to him so readily. He still calls to Leo for guidance when he feels out of control, but we might be in for a more surprising personal arc than ~nobody takes me seriously~ this time around.

Leonardo

This is a blessing for Leo fans because MM Tales Leo sucks /srs. Not in the way Raph fans say it on Instagram posts, in the way that his flaws are so disparate from other versions that a mastery arc is screaming his nervous muppet name. The giftedness is still sewn in; even flailing around he has more advanced weapon control, is observant enough to be the right level of stressed when a threat shows up, and jumps into strategy finding a vantage point to make a plan like a good little Leo, but instead of our usual Leo trauma ball we (at least for now) get to watch a Leo with the confidence of a processed cheese slice be terrible at things because he’s just some kid…

Pfffffffahahhhahhahba

The Mutant Mayhem kids are the most realistically green (and by that I mean inexperienced) we've ever seen them and it's continued into Tales. With detaching from source origin and establishing a much more grounded reflection of teen life in the current world, the growth arcs over Tales and the next MM movie have such immense unburdened potential that it really could lead anywhere and I don’t know what to expect.

(Tales of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles will air in August 9th 2024 on Paramount+)

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 2

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 9.1K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Author's Note: hi everyone! it's currently exactly 2am for me lol but I wanted to get this chapter out today! i was hoping to having the wedding happen but I like it more for the next chapter. all the support has been so overwhelming and amazing, thank you guys so much for all the love!! i appreciate it so much and I'm grateful that you all are so supportive, especially for my first ever fic. i really hope you guys enjoy this chapter! also, just let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling

previous / masterlist / next

You could feel your eyes glazing over with the amount of time you’d spent staring at your computer screen. A quick glance at the clock showed that only a couple hours had passed since you’d arrived at work, and a devastating thirty minutes remained until your lunch break. Rubbing at your tired eyes, you tried to find the energy to resume reviewing the materials your team had sent you, but you came up short. 

The wedding planning had been taking a lot out of you the past couple of months, even though your mother wasn’t letting you decide anything for it anyway. She had been quite clear that all you had to do was show up and that your input wouldn’t be needed. You couldn’t honestly say you had an issue with that, this didn’t feel like your wedding anyway. If it were yours, you would’ve been getting married to someone you love, and crucially, someone who loves you in return.

But that wasn’t in the cards for you and you knew that well, so you went along with your mother’s planning placidly, agreeing to almost everything she mentioned and getting ignored on things you didn’t. It left you exhausted, both physically and emotionally. It felt like an out-of-body experience every time your mother pulled you into another appointment for your dress fittings or makeup and hair test runs. You could feel yourself simply going through the motions and just waiting until the appointment was done so you could return to your mundane life. 

Not much else had changed, honestly. You were still working, hanging out with your friends on occasion, reading in bed, and watching television in the evenings. The only thing looming over you was the date of the wedding, now only six months away. It felt like an omen, always hovering near you, spiking your heart rate, and making you sweat. 

Even your team had noticed your heightened anxiety and expressed their worries to you, especially the youngest, Choi Song Ha. She was a cute, young thing, a fresh face in the industry that you had quickly taken under your wing once you had set eyes on her in the new recruit orientation you visited just over a year ago now. You knew just how quickly the gaming industry ate up and spat out women like clockwork and you didn’t want the same fate for her, so you’d snatched her up into your team. She truly felt like the little sister you’d never had and your bond quickly grew over the months since you’d met. She had picked up on your dampened mood and resolved to leave you small treats of a chip bag or chocolates on your desk every other day or so as a means to cheer you up. She knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t appreciate outright signs of concern or making a scene at work, and you loved her for it. 

She had left you a small red ginseng jelly this morning with a doodle of a grumpy cat stuck to it on a post-it note. It made you smile every time you glanced at it.

It kind of reminded you of Yoongi. The two of you hadn’t talked since that night in the restaurant, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to talk to him. Your mother had given you his number and you’d saved it, but you hadn’t made any move to message him.

“Team leader?”

You turned, snapping out of your daze to face another one of your team members, Yeonsik. 

“Yes, Yeonsik,” you responded, trying to appear calm and collected, and not like you were just thinking about your soon-to-be husband who hates you.

“We have the materials from the character graphics department for Plan C ready, it’s in your inbox now. They said that they’re ready to make any changes you want, but they’re worried about the deadline for the second draft,” Yeonsik rambled. He was a nice man, only a few years younger than you, and quite passionate about his job since joining your team two years back, just after you’d become the team lead of Planning Group 1. He had a handsome face with longer, dark hair and bright eyes that were eager to please.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know. Also, good job on keeping Graphics 2 on track, I know they’ve been giving us a hard time with getting the updated designs over. Thanks again,” you said politely, sending him a small smile. Yeonsik beamed in response and returned to his seat happily. You chuckled fondly at his antics before opening the file he’d sent. You loved your team members and you held a high respect for them. You knew you led them well and that they respected you in return. It was a small team, consisting of only five people, including you, but you were content with the group and the dynamic. You often went out for drinks together after work, usually followed by karaoke and at least one member passing out, most often Yeonsik, who would then be picked up by his boyfriend. You were a close-knit group and you couldn’t imagine a better job.

Slowly, Mrs. Min’s words crept back into your mind at the thought of how much you loved your position. Surely, Yoongi wouldn’t expect you to quit your job? You wouldn’t be able to bear it. 

No, he said that he would do his thing and you would do yours, you reminded yourself. That’s right, you’d agreed that you wouldn’t interfere in each other’s lives. Except, you hadn’t really agreed, had you? You’d just acquiesced because he’d been in the motion of leaving anyway. You weren’t really sure if that’s what you’d wanted, living separate lives and being married only on paper. 

Yoongi’s words rang clear in your head as you gnawed on your lower lip, was this really how this marriage was going to be? The two of you not even acknowledging each other except at galas and parties where you had to appear married? You didn’t want that.

But…if Yoongi did, how much say did you really have? As much as you wanted to make this work, it had to be a two-way street. If Yoongi didn’t want anything to do with you, you would have to accept that and just try to get through this the best you could. You had said to Joohee that day you’d found out, that there’s nothing you can do to stop him. 

It felt painful to come to terms with, especially in the environment of your office where you still had to appear professional. Thankfully, you breathed, none of your team members had noticed your mini-mental breakdown. 

Your phone buzzed with a new message from Yujin, your mother’s assistant.

From Yang Yujin

Hello Miss Y/N,

Your mother has asked me to confirm your three attendees for your wedding invitations. The invitations will be sent out on Friday night, so please send your three names with their contact information and address to me by then. If possible, please send it at least one day beforehand as Mrs. Seo would like to review them before I send the invitations out.

Additionally, she has set up another meeting for you with Mr. Min Yoongi on Friday, at 6 pm. Please find the location details below.

Please let me know if you need any other information,

Yang Yujin

You sighed, reading over the email again. For one, you honestly didn’t even know who you’d want to invite. You didn’t really have that many friends outside of Joohee, your colleagues, and Jung Hoseok, your friend from college. You knew that Joohee would already be invited, but you weren’t sure about Hoseok. He wasn’t a part of the same social circle as you and Joohee, especially since he didn’t come from a richer family, but you’d met him in college and introduced him to Joohee soon after. The three of you had been practically inseparable during your undergrad but after graduation, the three of you hadn’t met up in person in a while, with Hoseok in Busan for work. You tapped your chin thoughtfully with the eraser end of a pencil, maybe you should send an invite to Hoseok. Suddenly, another thought occurred to you, making the pencil drop from your fingers and onto your lap.

You hadn’t even told Hoseok about Yoongi!

“Damn,” you muttered, making a mental note to call him later today. You’d figure out the other invites later. Your eyes drifted to the second part of the email. 

Another meeting, huh? It sounds like it’ll be just the two of us this time. I wonder if he’ll be any different.

A rap of knuckles against your desk brought your attention back in front of you. Song Ha stood beside your chair, looking at you curiously, “It’s lunch, Team Leader. Want to grab something with the team downstairs?”

Shit, you had agreed to grab lunch with Joohee today. 

“No, Miss Choi, I’ll be meeting a friend of mine. But you all enjoy your lunch!”

“Alright, have fun!”

The team slowly filed out, discussing amongst themselves what they’d get from the cafeteria today. You almost longed to go with them, but you knew you had to tell Joohee about the email you got. 

You could feel a headache coming on. 

Sighing, you stood and gathered your things into your tote bag, never having liked purses, and started the walk towards the elevators to reach the quaint cafe across the street you and Joohee liked to frequent. 

You had arrived before Joohee, which was to be expected with your office right across and decided to grab a table for both of you. Setting your tote bag in the seat beside you, you read the email once more on your phone. It dragged another sigh out of you before you almost jumped into the air at the sound of Joohee’s voice.

“What’s got you so melancholy?’

You breathed out to calm your heart rate from the mini jumpscare and looked up at her. She was dressed a bit more formal than you in a light blue blouse and dark navy dress pants that fell gracefully in silk around her long legs with a maroon purse hanging from her shoulder. Her office was much more formal than yours, working under her father. Your own office often had team leaders and higher-ups in jeans, the nature of your work making it more casual, so you contrasted her in a simple black sweatshirt and blue jeans. 

“I have to meet Yoongi again on Friday.”

“God damn.”

You nodded somberly as she took her seat across from you, “You remember what happened last time? Why does it feel like he’s gonna eat me alive this time?”

Joohee looked at you suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.

You recoiled, shooting her a glare, “Good God, woman, not like that.”

Joohee relented, waving her hands in surrender, “Okay, well, assume he’ll be the same. Then you won’t be caught off guard. But I think you should still try to get through to him. Maybe, at the very least, you guys can become friends.”

You hummed in agreement, what she was saying made sense. You weren’t exactly hoping for a rom-com drama-like romantic relationship, but being friends wouldn’t be so bad. 

A waiter arrived, taking your drink and food orders, and you and Joohee fell back into easy conversation about your jobs and other small gossip. As much as you were trying to pay attention to what Joohee was saying, you couldn’t help your mind returning to Yoongi and his dark eyes scrutinizing you and his cold, biting voice. 

“Y/N?”

You focused back into Joohee and her concerned stare dug into you, “What?”

“Are you still thinking about Yoongi?”

You nodded, looking away. You felt bad for not listening to her especially when she had basically given you a solution to your anxiety regarding Friday. You heard her sigh before speaking. 

“Listen, Y/N, you can’t stop how he’s going to behave towards you. You can only control how you respond. I think your best bet is to try to tell him you’re not expecting him to treat you like a wife, but you want him to treat you like a friend. Unless that isn’t what you want.”

“No, it is,” you said, keeping yourself from burying your head in your hands, “And you’re right, that’s all I can do. Why didn’t you become a therapist, again?”

Joohee only grinned in response, “I’m too pretty.”

Joohee’s words from earlier echoed in your head for the rest of the workday. Did you really want him to treat you like a friend? Or something more?

You weren’t sure. Of course, you had this half-crush, half-infatuation with the man since you’d met him when you were younger, but marriage was a totally different game. Were you really ready to spend the rest of your life with a man you were attracted to but he couldn’t feel the same? 

Maybe he could.

You knocked that thought away as soon as it entered your mind, you shouldn’t be getting your hopes up. You knew that Yoongi was less than happy about the situation and the unfavorable circumstances would only serve to further distance him from you. You would have to be okay with just being friends if that. 

As you paced around your apartment later that night, you stopped in front of your dresser in your bedroom. In the third drawer from the top was the handkerchief that Yoongi had given you when you were younger. You had kept it meaning to give it back to him, but you had barely seen him since then, let alone had a moment in private to give it to him. 

Most of your interactions had been minimal conversations at parties and galas, often accompanied by Joohee and Seokjin. You couldn’t recall a time when Yoongi had actually talked to you directly in any of those scenarios. So why did your crush persist?

Maybe it was the innocence of your first meeting, the cliche of it all. You, small, sad, and alone, and Yoongi, showing up like your knight in shining armor. You had had a fascination with him since then, always trying to seek out his silhouette or pitch-black hair at gatherings afterward. Yet, he never approached you alone, nor did you make an attempt to do so yourself. You had called it an infatuation with Joohee because it really was, you didn’t really know anything about him, much less had a full conversation with him. Even when you were in a group with him, Seokjin, and Joohee, he would barely acknowledge you. 

Not that he was obligated to.

You fell back onto your bed and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a soft grunt when you hit the mattress. Would you be able to survive actually getting to know Yoongi? Your greatest fear was that you would fall in love with him, you were basically already primed for it. And that would not work out, you knew that, and you refused to consider any other outcome.

You couldn’t afford to get your hopes up.

Turning on your side, you could feel your thoughts drift to your few interactions with him growing up. He had always been polite, but cold. The most he’d said to you was a curt greeting and the barest of small talk. The only other interactions you’d really had were your first meeting and hearing about his escapades through the grapevine, mainly Joohee. Nonetheless, you found yourself infatuated, your eyes finding his slightly round cheeks and pouty lips inevitably. What would life be like once you got married?

You tried to imagine yourself in a domestic setting with Yoongi but quickly shut that down, that would only bring up unwanted feelings. You considered whether or not he would continue seeing other people after you were married. Joohee had said it was very possible. Would you be able to handle it? Joohee had suggested that you fool around a bit yourself but you had quickly dismissed that. Cheating was something you would never tolerate in a relationship, from the other person or from yourself. You knew that the reality would be different in your situation, but you still refused to let yourself stray from Yoongi.

Not that you hadn’t tried in the past. You had been in only two relationships leading up to now, one in college and another as a short burst after graduation. It all felt pointless when you knew you wouldn’t get to choose who you spent the rest of your life with. It was an agony that, along with other factors, ended both of your relationships. Mina had been a bright spot in your life, but she couldn’t deal with the fact that you were not only not out to your parents, but that you would likely not be able to be with her long term anyway. There had been other signs that the relationship wouldn’t work out, and you had tried to remain friends but it didn’t pan out past college. 

The relationship after college that had only lasted a few months was with Jaehyun, a sweet man who had been your coworker at your first job out of college. He was very kind to you and you felt comfortable in his presence, but you couldn’t handle the guilt of going out with him while knowing he wouldn’t be the one you marry. To his credit, he had been very understanding when you’d broken down in front of him in a guilt-fueled spiral. He’d held you until you calmed down, wiped your tears, and squeezed you tight before leaving, stating that you could always call him if you needed anything. You still messaged him sometimes, and you remained firm that if you did get to choose who to marry, he would be your first choice. 

The arranged marriage had been looming over your life since you were old enough to understand the importance of status to your family. You were sure Yoongi’s family was the same. You were both expected to keep your duty to your family, a repayment for the comfortable life you both had lived. Once or twice you had considered telling your parents you wouldn’t go through with it when the time came, but you knew that it would only result in you having to pay them back for everything they had ever given money towards for you. Even though you’d gotten multiple scholarships for college, your parents insisted you go to a prestigious university that rarely gave any money to their students because they knew their parents would have wide-open wallets. There was no way you’d ever be able to pay that back in your lifetime, especially with your current job. 

So you were stuck. But you knew you weren’t really all that unhappy. While the circumstances weren’t what you preferred, you couldn’t deny the small excitement that you felt at the prospect of being able to have a relationship with Yoongi. The caveat to that was also knowing that he was an entirely unwilling participant in this situation, which wasn’t really going to work to your advantage. You were set on remaining a realist, refusing to consider the idea that Yoongi might come to love you. It felt like you didn’t have much of any other choice. Everything about this entire situation made you feel like a passive observer, someone with no impact or voice, which wasn’t far from the truth. You imagined Yoongi was much the same.

Distantly, you wondered how many people Yoongi was allowed to invite to the wedding.

Speaking of! You had almost forgotten to call Hoseok, and it was getting late. You scrambled to reach for your phone, stretching your arm out to the nightstand where your phone sat, and grasping it. Dialing his number, you registered how low his contact was on your recent calls. You really needed to call him more often. Hitting his contact, you waited for the ringing to start. He answered rather quickly, which surprised you, as he was usually an early sleeper.

“Hey, Y/N! It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has. I missed you. Hobi,” you said, not realizing how much you meant it until the words left your mouth. It really had been too long since you’d called.

“What’s up? You don’t sound too happy. Is everything okay,” he questioned, and your heart warmed at his concerned nature. He was always able to read you well, better than Joohee sometimes. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine I guess. I’m getting married, actually.”

The other end of the line was silent for a bit before you heard Hoseok let out a breath and speak, “Oh, wow. Okay. How are you feeling?”

You choked out a laugh, “You’re not even asking who I’m marrying?”

“Well, I know that it’s not someone you chose. So I want to know how you’re doing. When did you find out?”

Your laughter died at his serious nature, your attempt at lightening the mood unsuccessful, “About two months ago. The wedding’s in around six. Want an invite? I get a whole three guests of my own choosing.”

He chuckled softly at that, “Of course I do, you know I’ll be there. But seriously, how are you feeling about this?”

You almost sighed at his unwillingness to let you escape his question, “I don’t know, honestly. I really don’t. I think I’m weirdly at peace with it? I’ve been expecting it for so long and now it’s finally happening. Plus, it being Min Yoongi isn’t exactly the worst thing ever.”

You could hear his surprise over the phone, “Min Yoongi? Like your crush of almost two decades, Min Yoongi?”

You groaned, responding, “Jeez, way to remind me how old I am. Yes, that Min Yoongi. He’s definitely not as okay with it as I am though.”

“What do you mean?”

You recounted the past meeting with his family to Hoseok while he patiently listened and interrupted occasionally to provide his own thoughts. When you finished, you could practically see him falling back against his desk chair, exhaling a burst of air. 

“Well, that’s a lot.”

You let out a short laugh, “Yeah, that’s been my life for the past couple of months.”

“I think Joohee gave you some good advice. I’d probably say something similar to you. Try to make the most of the situation but don’t expect a lot from him. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, “Yeah, you’re probably right. But, enough about me, how are you doing? How’s work?”

Hosek launched into recapping how busy the dance school he taught at had been lately and the gossip surrounding his coworkers. You felt yourself relax more into the conversation and slowly forget your troubling feelings surrounding Yoongi. 

You would deal with those come Friday. 

It was Friday. You made sure to leave work a bit early, giving you enough time to run back to your apartment to change and look presentable. You had chosen your outfit with Joohee’s help the night prior. You were meeting at a relatively fancy restaurant but it was more of a bar, so you didn’t want to be too formal. You had opted for a green dress with a small flower print since you were coming off the winter months into spring. Your dress was an A-line cocktail dress with a square neckline and puffed sleeves that cinched at your wrist. You’d had it for a while and knew how it looked on you, and you knew you would feel comfortable in it tonight. The last thing you needed weighing on your mind was getting in your head about how you looked, which you usually felt nauseous from. 

With it approaching six, you quickly finished up some minimal makeup, topped it off with a lip tint, and tried your best to make your hair look presentable after what was a long day of work. A glance at your watch told you that you didn’t have much time left, so you rushed to your car, almost forgetting your small purse, and started your drive over to the restaurant. You didn’t want to be late and make a bad impression on Yoongi, although you didn’t know if his impression of you could get any worse. 

After you arrived and were sat at your table, you checked your phone to see the time and were relieved to note that you were a couple of minutes early. You felt yourself relax into the booth and started taking slow, calming breaths to slow down your racing heartbeat. The adrenaline of trying to get to the restaurant on time was starting to fade and you took another glance at your watch. 

6:06

Well, that’s fine. He’s probably just a little late, you tried to reassure yourself, but you had a sinking feeling. As the minutes marched on, the sinking feeling grew deeper, and you could feel yourself growing slightly annoyed. 

6:29

Well, whatever.

You took out your phone from your purse and decided to message him. It should be reasonable, right? You had scheduled this beforehand, after all. Well, not you, your mother, but still, the principle held. 

You:

Hi Yoongi-ssi, this is Seo Y/N. I’m waiting at the restaurant at the moment 

and I was wondering if you were alright, since you weren’t here yet? Please let me know if you’d like to reschedule instead.

You winced at how the text message sounded more like an email between colleagues, but you weren’t sure how casual you were supposed to be with him. Before you could mull over the tone of your message more, you hit the send button and bit your lip as you waited for a response. Your fingers began to pick at your dress in a nervous habit and you kept your eyes trained on the restaurant entrance in case you spotted him. 

Finally, at 6:42, you saw the head of black hair that had haunted your dreams as of late. He walked in calmly, looking slightly disheveled, but his lax pace didn’t betray anything about his tardy entrance. He looked infuriatingly attractive in a well-fitted suit with the tie loosened and the top couple of buttons undone. His eyes met yours as the hostess led him to your table and you smiled politely at him, receiving only a cursory nod in return. The waitress quickly approached as he sat down across from you and took his drink order, two fingers of whisky, while you asked for more water. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to drink, more that you needed to keep your wits about you for this dinner and alcohol would only make you feel nauseous in your already anxious state.

With the waitress gone, he turned to you and you felt yourself flush automatically, something you internally cursed. You wished he didn’t have such an effect on you. He declined to say anything, so you took a moment to take in his appearance now that he was much closer to you. 

You could see that his collar was more rumpled than you initially thought and his hair a bit more mussed. You saw a small mark just barely visible from beneath his white button-up, above his tie. Now that he was much closer, you could smell a faint scent of a sweet perfume that you knew wasn’t yours since you had only worn a very light citrus one. 

Oh. He was with someone else. Why does that bother me so much?

Finally, he spoke, his deep voice lulling you out of your trance of staring at the mark on his chest, “Sorry I’m late. I saw your text, but I was driving. To be completely honest, I forgot about this.”

For a moment, his apology surprised you. For some reason, you hadn’t expected him to apologize. Maybe you’d built him up to be this cartoon villain in your head after your last interaction, but you’d forgotten that he was human just like you. 

“That’s alright, it’s no problem,” you responded kindly, noting the way his eyebrow slightly furrowed at your response, “How was your day?”

He raised an eyebrow at you in a questioning manner, “Are you really going to do small talk with me?”

You let out an embarrassed laugh at your failure to engage him and tried for a new tactic instead, “Okay, what would you like to talk about then?”

“I want to set some ground rules.”

Your surprise must’ve shown on your face because you saw the way his expression almost changed to amusement. You quickly shook off the abruptness of the statement and nodded your head, “Okay, like what?”

“First, you’ll be moving into my apartment. I’m sure your mother already told you,” you nodded, “Do not enter my bedroom or office without knocking. I’ll extend the same courtesy to you. Second, we keep our lives separate. Unless we need to appear at an event together, we shouldn’t be mingling our private lives, including friends, work, things like that. Thirdly, this marriage is going to be on paper only. Don’t expect me to treat you like my girlfriend, or my wife, because we both know that’s not what this is.”

You felt your teeth take in your bottom lip as you considered his words, “Okay, that’s fine, I guess.” You couldn’t really stop him from wanting to do that, but it still hurt some. Any hopes you had of getting a normal romantic relationship after this were quickly dashed by his next rule.

“Lastly, I want this to be open. Our parents aren’t pressuring us for kids, so we can both find relief elsewhere. We both know this is only for increased stocks and influence in our respective companies. So, I do whatever I want and you do whatever you want in that regard, and we don’t interfere in each other’s love lives.”

You felt your face fall a bit, but you tried to control your expression. You had prepared for this, Joohee had prepared you for this. So why were you still so upset? He’s giving you the go-ahead to find whoever you want, so it’s not technically cheating. So why does it still feel so wrong?

“Okay,” you said uneasily, “That’s all okay.” It felt like you were saying it more for yourself than for him. 

His eyebrow quirked once more. They were very expressive, you noticed. 

“That’s it? You don’t have any rules of your own you want to add in?”

Your hands clenched onto the edge of the booth seat, needing something to ground you. Rules of your own? Your head was swimming with everything that had just happened, you could barely think of anything else, “No, none I want to add.”

Yoongi leaned back and clasped his hands, “Alright then. Shall we eat? My dad’s technically paying so eat all you want.”

You shakily took hold of the menu you’d already looked over a hundred times while waiting for him, not wanting to appear rude by being on your phone. You had already chosen what dish you wanted when Yujin had sent you the restaurant name, a habit of yours being to look up the menu beforehand to choose. The waitress approached and took your orders, taking the menu from your hands, leaving you with nothing to grasp your quivering fingers onto. 

You looked over at Yoongi, seeing him on his phone, scrolling. You felt yourself blanch at the blatant disregard and couldn’t find it in yourself to try and start a conversation. 

The minutes passed by slowly, and you were barely relieved when the food came, providing momentary respite by giving you something to do. You felt like you’d never been in a more awkward situation. The waitress quickly refilled both your drinks, and you noted that Yoongi had ordered water this time. It must be because he’s driving. 

Soon, the both of you finished your food, in utter silence. The waitress, who was quite on top of her game, swiftly provided the bill and told you to take your time. You had a feeling she felt the awkward tension as much as you did.

Once the bill was paid, you and Yoongi walked out towards the parking lot where he started shifting to move in the direction of his car before you blurted out, “Wait!”

He turned, facing you with a bored expression, waiting for you to finish speaking.

“I do have a rule actually.”

Seeming slightly intrigued now, he gestured for you to continue.

“I want us to try and be friends. Please.”

He seemed slightly surprised, judging by the way his eyebrows lifted slightly and his mouth parted. Collecting himself, he looked directly into your eyes, his dark orbs boring into your own, “No. I want us to keep our lives completely separate. We’re not friends.”

With that, he turned around and walked to his car, not sparing you another glance. 

“Wow, what an asshole.”

You hummed lazily in agreement, feeling your head lull. You were already a bottle deep in more cheap Moscato with Joohee, as well as a couple of shots of strawberry soju. 

“I know right! I agreed to whatever he said, why couldn’t he agree with the one thing I asked for?”

Joohee winced and prepared herself for your buzzed anger that was sure to flare up at her next statement, “Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong. It did conflict with his other rule. Not that I think he’s justified either. There shouldn’t be a problem in being friends.”

Your head snapped towards her, seeing it as a defensive move for Yoongi in your half-drunken state, but before you could find the energy to get upset, you felt yourself melt further into the couch, “Yeah, you’re right, I guess. Whatever, I don’t need him. I’ll just fuck anyone who looks my way, instead.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” you cried, collapsing onto the pillow beside you, squeezing it tight, “Why am I so pathetic?”

“You’re not,” Joohee cooed, “You’re just in a shitty situation. So is he, but at least you’re not being a dick about it.”

You nodded glumly, still not feeling better about the situation. As you cradled the now-empty wine bottle to your chest, you remembered Hoseok.

“Oh yeah, I invited Hobi for the wedding. My coworker, Song Ha too. Can you believe I couldn’t think of a third person?”

Joohee laughed before throwing herself onto the couch with you, “Hey, you don’t need other friends, you have me. Besides, we’ll all be together again, then! It feels like forever since we’ve seen him.”

“Yeah, I told him and he said the same stuff as you. To try and make the best of it, or whatever,” you could feel yourself becoming less and less sober, “Can I crash here tonight?”

“Of course, do you want me to wash your dress for you?”

“No, I’ll just do it at my place. Thank God I have you.”

Joohee only laughed loudly in response, getting up to grab another bottle of soju from the fridge. The two of you lounged around before moving to watch TV in Joohee’s bed where she promptly fell asleep. Soothed by her snoring, you relaxed into her comfortable mattress and traced the light extrusions on her ceiling. Your thoughts soon drifted to Yoongi, as they seemed to do often these days. 

Was he really fair in rejecting your friendship? Joohee had made a good point earlier in that it certainly conflicted with his rule of ignoring each other outside of obligated functions. But…you didn’t want that. So why did you agree? In the moment, it hadn’t really felt like you’d had another choice. You seemed to be feeling like that a lot lately. 

Yoongi seemed serious about this marriage being for business only and you knew that you didn’t want that, but you couldn’t exactly tell him as such. You couldn’t be more sure that he would only be disgusted if he heard you say that and you didn’t think you’d be able to survive seeing that kind of emotion on his face when it’s directed towards you. 

Not that you’d be able to survive this marriage either. 

Your fingers toyed with the frayed hem of the sleep shorts you’d borrowed from Joohee, a frequent occurrence whenever you stayed over, and you saw her shift in her sleep. She really had been so supportive throughout this whole thing. 

Maybe you should go to her brother for help? No, Yoongi would probably hate that. 

You resisted the urge to kick your feet in frustration out of fear of waking up Joohee. This was so difficult, it was next to impossible to figure out what your next move should be. 

You had a nagging feeling that your mother wouldn’t force you to meet up with Yoongi anymore before the wedding, but why did that not feel like a clear-cut win? Did you want to meet with Yoongi again?

Rubbing at your eyes frantically, you pushed aside the flurry of questions stirring inside you. You didn’t have time to deal with this. There was a large project at work that was in its final stages that you needed your full attention on and then the final beta tests before the official launch, just weeks before your wedding. You couldn’t afford to spend another moment thinking about Yoongi. 

As you got more comfortable in Joohee’s bed, you turned your head to face the clock on her bedside table, reading 3:09 AM. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you forced your eyes closed to try and get some rest. 

You had an inkling that Yoongi would be occupying your thoughts whether you wanted it or not. 

“We’ll be meeting for the rehearsal dinner in one week, Yujin will send you the information and instructions. Don’t be late.”

Your mother’s voice cut off after that, not bothering to say goodbye before ending the call. You could feel your headache coming back and you fumbled for your water bottle before getting up to grab a red ginseng packet from the breakroom. Things had been a lot lately. 

The final preparations for the wedding were underway and your mother was leaving nothing to chance. Your dress had been fitted to perfection with your mother sending you a strict diet and workout plan to make sure you stayed the exact same size until the wedding. That email had been swiftly archived. 

You weren’t even sure of who was in your bridal party other than Joohee being your maid of honor. Not that it mattered. This wedding wasn’t for you anyway. 

As you slowly sucked out the paste from the ginseng packet, leaning against the break room counter, you wondered if Yoongi had had to go through similar procedures, though likely less extensive. You hadn’t heard from him since that dinner where he’d firmly placed a boundary between you, but he’d rarely left your mind since. You’d hoped that the reality check with Yoongi might help clear you of your feelings for him, but, instead, they only deepened your desire to get to know him better, to break past that boundary. But you knew that those ideas were merely fairy tales and this marriage was not going to be one by any means. 

Distantly, you wondered how the ceremony would go. The two of you hadn’t prepared any vows, nor were you expected to. This wedding was not a show of love and everyone knew that. Your parents weren’t concerned with making it appear as though you and Yoongi were a loving couple, no, this wedding was more of an excuse to show off their wealth and influence. Your nuptials were merely a byproduct. Still, would you have to kiss Yoongi?

You quickly shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the mental image, feeling your cheeks flush hot. Yet, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You imagined his lips would be soft and gentle, that he would lead you through the kiss and deepen it for more. His hands would come to rest at your waist before encircling it, pulling you closer, flush, to his body. 

No! You can’t imagine that, you’re not allowed!

Internally, you scoffed. What kind of girl wasn’t allowed to imagine kissing her fiance? You knew the truth, however, that it wasn’t your place to imagine yourself in that position. That was reserved for the person he loved, who was, decidedly, not you. 

Tossing the packet, you made your way back to your way back to your desk. Settling into the pillowed surface of your chair, you browsed through your emails before noticing one from the marketing team.

From: limheesungmarketing1@okgaming.com

RE: MIRA’S AWAKENING Influencer Advertising

Hello Team Leader Seo,

We have decided that we would like to reach out to online influencers and streamers to assist in promoting Project Mira’s Awakening. A list of possible candidates is attached, along with their profiles and viewer analytics. We would like your input on any public figures you believe may be good candidates for this endeavor. Please reach out if you and your team come up with any candidates that are not already included in the attached file.

Additionally, we would like to create merchandise to provide for these public figures and we need to confirm with you and Graphics Team 2 on graphics we can include on merchandise items. You will find a list of items we are looking to make, along with graphics suggestions, attached as well. Please coordinate with GT 2 to send over finalized ideas and start creating the images.

Thank you,

Team Leader Lim

You considered the contents, feeling the eraser of your pencil tap against your lip, who could you suggest? You had your favorite streamers, but none aligned that well with the nature of the game you were producing, which meant the viewer base wouldn’t have enough crossover with your target audience. Running through a list of the streamers you watched regularly in your head, you stopped at one in particular. 

Goldenboy97. 

Jeon Jeongguk was quite popular and played enough combat-based games to have sufficient audience crossover, while still being intriguing for the puzzle aspect of the game. Not that you were biased, but he was your favorite creator at the moment. You jotted down his handle and a note to ask the rest of your team about their thoughts. 

Leaning back in your chair, you stared blankly at the screen as the emails continued flooding in. Slowly, but surely, your thoughts drifted back to the phone call with your mother. The wedding was next week, with the rehearsal dinner only being seven days away. 

You felt a strange combination of dread and giddiness, a swirl of emotional turmoil you weren’t ready to unpack. Hoseok was coming back tonight and you were picking him up from the train station. You’d probably have time to process your emotions then. Hoseok was staying at your apartment in the guest bedroom for a couple of weeks so he could be there through the whole wedding process. He had also mentioned looking for an apartment to move into in Seoul, which made you excited. You really wanted to have the college dream team together again.

The thoughts of the actual wedding were stoking your nerves, you still hadn’t talked to Yoongi since the last time you’d met. You weren’t sure of the protocol or if you should try to talk to him beforehand, especially about the ceremony. Too cowardly to act on your anxiety, you shut off your opened messaging app on your phone. You weren’t keen on finding out how Yoongi would respond to an unprompted message. 

The sound of your team packing up alerted you to the time, being slightly past five. You joined them in getting ready to leave before heading to the elevator. The rest of the group trekked slightly ahead while Song Ha walked slightly slower to stay back with you. 

“So, the wedding is next week. Are you excited?”

You chuckled nervously, “Yeah, you could call it that.”

“Ah, are you nervous? Makes sense. Just think, though, soon, you’ll be married to the love of your life! How exciting!”

Your insides felt queasy. You hadn’t told Song Ha about the nature of your relationship with your betrothed because you weren’t exactly sure how to explain it to someone who wasn’t familiar, nor did you want to deal with the embarrassment, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Where are you going for your honeymoon?”

You bit your lip, “Nowhere, actually. We couldn’t get time off of work at the same time.” The honeymoon had long been decided as an unnecessary expense, and neither you nor Yoongi complained. Being stuck with him for weeks after the wedding in another country sounded like a nightmarish situation. You wouldn’t have minded a vacation though.

“Gosh, that sucks. Hopefully, you’ll be able to do something over the summer, maybe,” Song Ha pouted, swinging her work bag in line with her step. You smiled at her naivete.

“Yeah, hopefully.”

“Hobi!”

You ran towards the taller man, throwing your arms around his upper body, “I missed you! It feels so nice to have you back in Seoul.”

Feeling his chest rumble with a laugh, you squeezed him harder before releasing him. 

“Feels good to be back too,” he responded, a bright, heart-shaped smile adorning his face, “Let me get my bags to your car.”

“Oh, right, let me help,” you nodded, reaching for the bigger suitcase to roll towards your car. Hoseok easily picked up the duffel bag lying at his feet and followed behind you. You had opted for driving to the station since his train had come too late for the buses to still be running, and you didn’t want to have to deal with paying for or lugging his baggage into a cab. 

After loading the luggage into your trunk, you both settled into the front seats of your well-worn car. You heard Hoseok chuckle while clicking in his seatbelt, “This certainly feels different from the drunk bus and taxi rides back to the campus dorms. Even if it’s about the same level as luxury.”

You rolled your eyes, “Hey, my car is reliable. The previous owner only had it for a couple of years before selling it off and she’s been perfectly good since then. Though, my mom would probably agree with you on the luxury bit.”

“Yeah, well, who wants to listen to her opinion anyway. Before I forget, thanks again for letting me stay at your place while I’m here, I know it’ll probably be annoying with the wedding prep going on.”

“It’s no problem, seriously. Besides, a lot of my stuff’s been moved over to Yoongi’s for when I move after the wedding. I’m just keeping my apartment there in case I need it since I won’t be paying rent at Yoongi’s.” Keeping the lease on your apartment had been a conscious decision because you had figured you’d want a safe space away from the marriage drama and it wouldn’t be an extra hit to your income. What your mother and Yoongi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. 

“Has he really paid off his entire apartment? You’re marrying a proper chaebol,” Hoseok joked. 

You laughed lightly, a tinge of awkwardness at the idea that you really were, and you had no idea how he’d act in his own house. Tapping your fingers along the steering wheel, you tried to subtly change the topic, “Well, speaking of apartments, do you know where you’re going to be looking?”

Hoseok launched into a detailed plan he had for looking at rental properties in Seoul for both his apartment and the studio he wanted to open. You excitedly listened along, thrilled that he was planning on settling near you, as you drove to your own apartment. 

After you’d parked, Hoseok insisted on taking the large suitcase, claiming that only he was strong enough to lug it up the stairs. You only laughed a little bit at his sour expression when you showed him the perfectly working elevator. 

Punching in the code to your apartment, you swung open the door, making sure not to step food inside. A loud pop rang out and confetti sprayed out from the doorway.

“Surprise!”

Hoseok stumbled back, clutching at his chest and mouth agape at Joohee’s excited smile from inside the apartment, “Shit, Joohee, you scared me!”

You laughed loudly before grabbing his suitcase and rolling it inside, setting the duffel bag on top. Joohee began cleaning up the mess of confetti, Hoseok started to unpack what he’d need for the night, and you began unboxing the pizza that had arrived while Joohee was setting up. 

As the three of you settled into your living room, Hoseok already teasing Joohee, you felt like a void in your heart had been filled. The last few months had been so stressful and it hadn’t felt like you’d gotten a break emotionally in so long. The sounds of your friends chattering and laughing made you feel at ease. So, naturally, Hoseok had to ruin that.

“So, Y/N, how are you feeling about the rehearsal next week? Or the wedding, for that matter.”

You shifted in your position on the loveseat, feeling yourself frown, “Um, I don’t know. I don’t know what to expect. I can’t believe I’ll be married in just over a week.” Letting out a nervous laugh, you continued, “I haven’t talked to Yoongi in like six months. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

You could feel yourself spiraling, but you had been holding in so many emotions that it felt like you couldn’t stop yourself from talking, “Honestly, I’m really scared. I don’t want this to be my life forever. I’m not ready, I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

Joohee got up from her spot on the couch to hug you, Hoseok joining soon after. Something about their touch comforting you pushed you over the edge, the dam broke, and tears began streaming down your cheeks. You sniffled pathetically, hating the level of vulnerability you were currently displaying. You hadn’t cried throughout this whole experience, but in the comforting presence of your closest friends, you couldn’t help it. 

“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to marry him if it’s going to be like this. Why does my life have to be this way? Why can’t I be normal?”

Joohee and Hoseok only squeezed you in response, not having an answer to your questions. Your tears continued on until you couldn’t cry anymore and Joohee finally released you. She stood and smiled kindly at you, “Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Water, please,” you said raspily, throat dry from all the crying. Joohee nodded before heading to the kitchen, leaving you with Hoseok who had shoved himself into the loveseat to further comfort you. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, slightly muffled by burying your face in Hoseok’s soft, cotton shirt. 

“You know you can always talk to us. I wish I could change this for you, that you didn’t have to do this,” he said softly, stroking your hair. 

“It is what it is,” you said, feeling much more mellow now that you’d cried out all your overwhelming emotions. 

“Still,” Hoseok insisted, “He has no reason to be such a jerk.” You shrugged, you felt the same but there wasn’t much you could do to change that. 

Joohee returned with a cup of water which you gratefully took and sipped. Suddenly feeling quite exhausted, and a headache coming on, you tapped Hoseok to get off of you, to which he complied and clambered off the loveseat.

“Sorry guys, I’m just so exhausted now. I really appreciate you being here, but I think I’m going to head to bed,” you stated, hugging both of them, before starting to gather the trash to clean up. 

Joohee laid a hand on your shoulder to stop you, “Go, get some rest. We’ll clean up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Hoseok exclaimed, and pushed you towards your bedroom, “Go to bed!”

Laughing, you acquiesced and headed into your bedroom to get ready to sleep. As you went through your nightly routine, you felt yourself feeling a bit calmer about the upcoming week. You had your two closest friends by your side. 

You were ready to handle anything that Yoongi threw at you.

Probably.

Yoongi lightly swirled the glass of whiskey between his fingers as he sat at his desk in his brown leather chair. By this time next week, he would be getting married. 

His eyes drifted towards the manila folder lying at the edge of his desk, a small water stain on the corner. Inside were the files on his soon-to-be wife, Seo Y/N. He took a sip of his whiskey, the smoky flavour traveling down his throat, as he considered his fiancee. 

He didn’t know what to make of her. She just seemed so meek and obedient, which wasn’t at all appealing. He didn’t remember much of her from before the arrangement, aside from vague interactions between them and the Kim siblings. She had seemed quite timid then too. 

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, setting his glass on his desk. He didn’t want to do this marriage. It was a chore, really. 

Yoongi didn’t necessarily have anyone he was looking to marry, but having to pretend to be exclusive with some girl he didn’t care about wasn’t conducive to the bachelor lifestyle he’d cultivated. He’d set his ground rules, and she’d agreed, pretty easily, another thing that irked Yoongi. 

Couldn’t she stand up for herself? Or say anything at all that was her own opinion?

Yoongi drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, he supposed she had said something that night. She’d wanted to be friends. He hadn’t been expecting that.

He figured it might be some condition about how she didn’t want to work or for him to stop seeing other people, but, instead, she’d simply asked for his friendship. And he’d refused. 

Of course he did, it went against his other rule. He wanted to keep his life separate from this artificial marriage and that included remaining nothing but acquaintances. He’d have to be steadfast, he decided. That night, when he’d seen your imploring expression with hope shining in your eyes, he’d almost agreed. He wasn’t sure why that was, or if he even wanted to know, but he couldn’t let it happen again. 

Despite your docile and unassuming nature, you were dangerous. And you didn’t seem to know it, which made you all the more so.

previous / masterlist / next 

[amethystarachnid]

LAZY DAY

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4.2k

ᯓ★ TW(s): Too Hot To Handle is mentioned because that shows makes me laugh so much, also y/n is on her period, mentions of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix so Sirius' death

ᯓ★ Timeline: not in a defined timeline, just after the Avengers where formed

ᯓ★ Request: If it's still possible, I would like to request one too! For Tony with "grumpy x sunhine" I am the most grumpy girl in the morning 😂 and it would be amazing to have Tony to cheer me up with his amazing beauty and by giving me lots of kisses, cuddling in bed in the morning, making me breakfast and spending the day with me in bed 💗 ( @little-angel-oc)

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The sound of the blinds whirring open stirs you from the fringes of sleep. You grunt, pulling the blankets over your head, already dreading the day before it even starts. Mornings have never been your thing, but today… Today is different. Today, you woke up with the telltale ache in your lower abdomen that screams it’s here. And as if on cue, you feel the heavy lethargy that comes with it—your period.

It doesn't help that you woke up to Tony Stark’s penthouse, basking in the golden sunlight streaming in through the windows—because, of course, he’s already up, cheerful as ever.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Tony’s voice rings out, way too chipper for your mood. You can hear the smug smile in his voice, and it grates at your nerves, even if you know he means well.

"Mmrf," you mumble incoherently from under the blankets, hoping he'll just take the hint and let you brood in peace. But no, Tony is… Tony. And subtlety isn't exactly his strong suit.

His weight dips the bed as he climbs back in beside you. You feel his presence hovering, the warmth of his body coming closer. Then, soft kisses. One on your shoulder, another on the nape of your neck. His stubble tickles your skin, but you’re too grumpy to be charmed by it. Not yet, at least.

"Come on, don’t hide from me." His lips trail up to your temple, and then another kiss, right on your cheek. He’s relentless. "I made coffee. Just the way you like it."

You groan again, burying yourself deeper under the covers. “Not now, Stark.”

“Aw, come on, I thought we were past the last-name thing,” Tony teases, his voice filled with playful hurt. “You’re killing me here. I come bearing gifts.” His hands smooth over the blanket that cocoons you, and despite your mood, his touch is soothing.

You’re not sure why it worked—him breaking through your defenses. Maybe it’s because he’s the only one who ever tried.

You met Tony a little over three years ago. Not at one of his infamous parties or on a whirlwind trip to Europe like you might expect, but at a quiet charity event. You were the kind of person who kept to yourself, volunteering quietly behind the scenes. Tony, of course, was the star of the evening, charming everyone in his path. Everyone except you.

He noticed immediately. You weren’t fawning over him, and that caught his attention. He was used to people gravitating toward his magnetism, and for you to seem completely unimpressed? That intrigued him. So, naturally, Tony being Tony, he made it his mission to get a smile out of you.

It took weeks. Weeks of him sending flowers to your office, dropping by with coffee, and pestering you with texts that ranged from the utterly ridiculous to oddly sweet. He was insistent, and even though you found him exasperating, something about his relentless positivity started to wear you down. You were the storm and he was the sunshine, determined to break through your clouds.

Somewhere along the way, you fell for him. Hard. But it was mutual. Tony fell for you, too. For the way you saw the world, for how you never let him get away with his usual antics. You kept him grounded, and he showed you it was okay to let the light in.

Now, here you are. Grumpy as ever, in his bed, while he’s trying to shower you with affection despite the fact you’re ready to bite his head off.

“I know you’re awake in there,” Tony murmurs, his voice softening as he slips under the covers with you. His hand finds your waist, tugging you gently against him. “I’m not going anywhere. You can hide from the day, but not from me.”

“I’m cramping,” you mutter, finally poking your head out from the blankets. Your face is probably scrunched up in irritation, but Tony only smiles, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

“Ah, the monthly monster strikes again,” he says sympathetically. “You should’ve told me earlier. I would’ve whipped up something better than coffee.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a tiny smirk playing at your lips. “Tony, you’re not even allowed near the stove. Remember last time?”

“Hey, that omelette was edible,” he defends, making you snort. “Barely.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “First, we’re going to stay in bed all day. No meetings, no Avengers nonsense, nothing. Just you and me.”

You hum, the idea already starting to sound more appealing.

“Second,” he continues, his fingers brushing through your hair softly, "I'm going to give you approximately one million kisses. It’s scientifically proven to improve your mood.”

A small, reluctant smile tugs at your lips. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” Tony replies, grinning as he leans in and starts peppering your face with light, playful kisses—on your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and finally, your lips. It’s impossible not to laugh, and the sound escapes you before you can stop it.

“There it is,” Tony says triumphantly, pulling back just enough to catch your eye. “I knew I could make you smile.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite behind it. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“And yet, you love me,” he shoots back, his voice teasing but laced with affection. His arms tighten around you, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

You bury your face in his chest, hiding the small smile that refuses to leave your lips. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.”

Tony laughs, a soft, warm sound that vibrates against your cheek, and he presses another kiss to the top of your head.

“Now,” he says, reaching over for the tray, “how about breakfast in bed? Then, we can cuddle and watch whatever cheesy rom-com you’re in the mood for.”

You lift your head slightly, giving him a skeptical look. “You hate rom-coms.”

Tony smirks, handing you a piece of toast. “I hate bad rom-coms. But I love you, so I’ll suffer through it.”

You snort, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I know,” he says, settling back against the pillows with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s part of my charm.”

Tony snuggles in closer, his arm wrapping tighter around your waist as he carefully balances the tray on his lap. You sit up a little, taking a piece of toast from the plate, though the idea of eating doesn’t really appeal to you right now. Still, you know he’s trying to make things better in his own way, and that’s worth something. You nibble on the toast to appease him, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He strokes his fingers through your hair absently, the simple act soothing in a way only he can make it. The room is quiet, aside from the distant hum of the world outside Stark Tower and Tony’s soft breathing beside you.

For a moment, it’s peaceful. Then Tony breaks the silence, unable to help himself.

“So,” he says, voice playful, “what’s the plan after we finish breakfast? Want to binge some terrible reality TV? Or,” he raises his eyebrows suggestively, “we could finally finish that puzzle we started. You know, the one that’s only 90% done because someone”—he pokes your side—“gave up and declared it was impossible.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “I’m not finishing that puzzle, Tony.”

“But you were so close! Just a few more—”

“No.” You turn to glare at him, but there’s no real anger behind it. Just exhaustion. He notices, his teasing smile softening into something more concerned.

“Alright, alright,” he relents, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “We’ll skip the puzzle. Maybe just… rest, then?”

“Maybe,” you murmur, sinking further into him, suddenly too tired to care about anything other than the warmth of his body next to yours.

Tony’s hand moves to your lower back, massaging gently. It’s as if he knows exactly where the pain is the worst, his touch deliberate and comforting. You close your eyes, letting the tension in your muscles melt away. Despite the grumpiness that’s been clinging to you since you woke up, you can feel yourself softening against him.

He tilts his head down, his lips grazing your temple. “How about this,” he says softly, “we take the day one hour at a time. No plans, no pressure. If you want to just lie here, we lie here. If you want to nap, we nap. Whatever you need.”

You sigh, appreciating how much he’s willing to adjust for you, for the person you are on days like this. “You’re really okay with just doing nothing all day?” you ask, even though you know the answer.

“With you? I could do nothing for the rest of my life and be happy,” Tony says, his tone surprisingly sincere.

You laugh, shaking your head. “You? Not working for a whole day? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He grins, his fingers tracing circles on your arm. “Okay, okay, I might check a couple emails. But only a couple. Maybe one phone call…”

“Tony.”

“Alright! I’ll leave the work alone for the day,” he promises, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Scout’s honor.”

The warmth of his kiss lingers on your skin, and despite yourself, you feel some of the irritability start to slip away. Tony has always had that effect on you—making even the worst days feel just a little bit more bearable. It’s one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, how he could see through all your sharp edges and somehow make you feel seen, cared for.

You shift slightly, finding a more comfortable position in his arms. He takes the empty plate from your hand and sets it aside, his arm slipping back around you without missing a beat.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” you ask quietly, unsure where the question comes from. “Taking care of me when I’m like this?”

Tony’s brow furrows slightly, but there’s no hesitation in his response. “No. Never.”

You give him a skeptical look, but before you can argue, he continues. “Hey, we’ve been through worse, haven’t we? You’ve put up with me for years now—there’s no way I’m letting a few grumpy mornings scare me off.”

You bite your lip, feeling that familiar wall start to rise, the one that tells you to brush off his concern and hide behind sarcasm. But Tony’s looking at you so earnestly, with that mix of affection and stubbornness that’s impossible to argue with. So instead, you let out a breath and nod, resting your head back on his shoulder.

“I guess you’re stuck with me, then,” you mutter, though there’s a hint of warmth in your voice.

Tony presses another kiss to your head. “Good. Because I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

For a while, you just lie there together, the sound of his breathing steady and calming. You close your eyes, letting the dull ache in your body fade into the background. It’s not gone, not completely, but with Tony beside you, it feels manageable. It always does.

“Tell you what,” Tony says after a while, his voice soft and laced with mischief. “Why don’t we make this a thing? Once a month, we do nothing but stay in bed. No meetings, no saving the world, just us. I’ll even bring you breakfast every time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Once a month? You’d get bored after the first hour.”

He shrugs, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Maybe. But I could think of a few ways to keep us entertained.”

There’s a glint in his eyes, and despite your grumpiness, you can’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he quips, his arms tightening around you as he pulls you closer.

You don’t reply, but you don’t have to. The way you relax into him, the way you let out a soft sigh of contentment, says enough.

The afternoon sun casts long, lazy shadows across the room as you lie nestled into Tony’s side, still wrapped in the cocoon of blankets. The tray of breakfast long since cleared, the only remnants of your morning now are the occasional crumbs you both keep brushing away. The TV in front of you flickers with the unmistakable chaos of a reality show, and despite your initial protests, you're several episodes deep into Too Hot to Handle.

"Okay, seriously," you groan, watching one of the contestants dramatically storm off after another contrived argument. "How are these people real? There’s no way."

Tony’s laugh rumbles against your back, his arm draped comfortably around you. “I know, right? It’s like watching aliens try to figure out human emotions.”

You snort. “Pretty sure aliens would handle this better.”

On-screen, another contestant confesses that they’re “not here to make friends,” to which Tony rolls his eyes dramatically. “Ah, the classic line. When are they ever here to make friends?”

“They’re not even here to find love,” you mutter. “They just want the prize money.”

Tony clicks his tongue. “And the Instagram followers.”

You half-laugh, half-groan as a new couple starts having a heated conversation about trust—again, for the third time in the episode. “This is torture. Why did I let you talk me into watching this?”

“Oh, I talked you into it?” Tony teases, giving your waist a playful squeeze. “Because if I recall, you were the one who said, ‘Anything, as long as it doesn’t require brain power.’ This show? Zero brain power required. It's perfect.”

You glare up at him, but the smile playing on your lips betrays you. “I hate that you’re right.”

He grins, planting a kiss on your forehead. “It happens more than you think.”

You turn your attention back to the show, shaking your head in disbelief as the contestants participate in yet another ridiculous challenge. “They’re literally just being forced to sit on a beach and not make out. How is this a show?”

Tony chuckles. “Human willpower, baby. People love watching others struggle.”

“That’s not willpower. That’s just people being dumb,” you mutter, shifting against him to get more comfortable.

He shifts too, adjusting the pillows behind him, making sure you're completely settled before draping his arm back over your shoulders. “You know, if we were on this show, we’d be dominating,” Tony says, nodding towards the screen.

You shoot him a look, one eyebrow raised. “We wouldn’t even be on this show. This is exactly the kind of thing I’d avoid at all costs.”

“Hypothetically, though,” Tony continues, a mischievous glint in his eye, “if we were on this island or retreat or whatever… We’d walk away with all the money. Zero slip-ups. We'd be a power couple.”

You roll your eyes. “Please. You’d be the first one to break the rules.”

Tony gasps in mock offense. “Excuse me? I am a gentleman. I can control myself.”

You snort. “Yeah, right. You can’t even make it through a whole episode of this without making some comment about how ‘ridiculous’ it is. There’s no way you’d last.”

Tony leans in, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers, “I’m very good at following rules… when I want to.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but you don’t let him see how much his words affect you. You shove him playfully, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “See? You’d crack under pressure.”

“Never,” he insists, though his grin gives him away. “But you? You’d be the real rule-breaker.”

You tilt your head, amused. “Me?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tony says with a nod, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You act all tough and grumpy, but deep down? You’ve got a soft side. You’d cave the second they throw a romantic dinner at you.”

You scoff. “I’m not that soft.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony says, completely unconvinced. “You’re not fooling anyone, sweetheart. I’ve seen you cry at dog videos.”

You nudge him with your elbow, but you can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up. “Shut up.”

Tony grins, pulling you closer, his nose nuzzling into your hair. “Face it—we’d be the most entertaining couple on the show. The producers would love us.”

“Because I’d be constantly yelling at you to follow the rules?” you quip.

“Exactly,” Tony says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You shake your head, laughing at the absurdity of the conversation, but there’s something about it that feels… nice. Even on a day like this Tony still manages to make you laugh, to make you feel lighter. It’s ridiculous, but it’s exactly what you need.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you say, leaning your head against his chest.

“I am, actually,” Tony says, his tone suddenly softer, more genuine. “Every day.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget about the ridiculous show on TV. You look up at him, seeing that familiar warmth in his eyes—the same look he gave you the first time he told you he loved you, the same look that reminds you why, despite all his quirks and chaos, you fell for him in the first place.

You reach up and press a kiss to his cheek, lingering for just a second longer than usual. “I’m lucky too.”

Tony smiles, the kind of smile that makes you feel like everything in the world is right, even when your body aches and your mood is sour. “So,” he says, voice light again, “do we keep watching, or do we switch to something less… terrible?”

You glance back at the TV, where yet another argument is brewing between contestants who probably won’t last past the reunion episode. “Let’s keep watching,” you say, surprising yourself.

Tony’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? You’re getting into it, aren’t you?”

You sigh, leaning back into him. “No, it’s just… if I have to suffer, I’m dragging you down with me.”

Tony laughs, that infectious sound filling the room as he pulls you even closer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And just like that, the afternoon drifts by, with the two of you lost in the ridiculous drama on screen, but more importantly, lost in the warmth of each other’s company.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting the room in a soft orange glow, you’re still comfortably tucked into bed, your legs intertwined with Tony’s. The reality show marathon had finally come to an end—mercifully—and now the two of you are lounging in the blissful silence of the early evening.

Tony, ever the thoughtful partner, has already ordered takeout for dinner. You didn’t even need to ask; he knew you wouldn’t feel like cooking, especially today. “I got McDonald’s,” he announces with a proud grin as he taps away on his phone, tracking the delivery.

“Comfort food. Nice touch,” you say, stretching your arms above your head with a yawn.

“You’re not gonna complain about all the fries I ordered?” Tony teases.

“Not today,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up. “I’m going to hop in the shower. My body feels all… ugh.”

Tony’s eyes light up, his grin widening as he sits up too, resting his chin on his hand. “Oh? Shower, you say?”

You immediately catch the playful tone in his voice, and you shoot him a look, knowing exactly where this is going. “Tony—”

“Come on,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. “It’s been a lazy day, and I think we could both use a nice, hot, shared shower. I promise, I’ll behave.” He gives you an exaggerated wink that’s so over-the-top, you can’t help but laugh.

You shake your head, sliding off the bed. “Absolutely not.”

Tony pouts, shifting onto his knees as he watches you walk to the bathroom. “Why not?” he protests, though there’s no real weight behind his argument. “We’re in a committed relationship. There’s nothing wrong with—”

“I’m on my period,” you interrupt flatly, raising an eyebrow as you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Tony pauses, his eyes narrowing in consideration before he stands and follows you, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, refusing to let the conversation go. “So?” he says, shrugging. “Not like I care. I just want to be near you.”

You roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the exhaustion. He’s persistent, you’ll give him that. “Tony, I love you, but this is my one chance to have five minutes of peace.”

His grin softens into something a little more affectionate, though his tone remains light. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you have your ‘me’ time. But if you change your mind…” He leans in closer, dropping his voice into a whisper. “I’ll be right here. Ready.”

You can’t help but laugh, shoving him playfully toward the bedroom. “Go wait for the food, Stark.”

He gives you one last, overdramatic pout before retreating with a sigh. “Fine. But only because I love you.”

Shaking your head, you finally close the door, the sound of Tony’s soft humming fading as you start the water. The hot steam begins to fill the small space, and you let out a contented sigh as you step under the showerhead. The warmth helps soothe the dull ache in your body, and for the first time all day, you feel a little more like yourself.

When you finally emerge, your hair wrapped in a towel and a fresh pair of pajamas on, the scent of fries and burgers has filled the room. Tony’s already settled back on the bed, the food laid out neatly on the tray between the two of you. He’s wearing one of his worn-out band t-shirts, the kind that’s been washed so many times it’s practically soft enough to sleep in.

“Look at that timing,” Tony says as you approach. “Hot shower and hot food all waiting for you. I should win some kind of award for this.”

You smile, climbing back into bed and settling next to him. “You’ve really outdone yourself today.”

He grins, popping a fry into his mouth. “I live to serve.”

You grab a burger and unwrap it, savoring the familiar comfort of the greasy food. There’s something about McDonald’s that hits differently on days like this, and you let out a satisfied sigh as you take the first bite.

Tony reaches for the remote, flicking through the movie options. “Okay, your choice—Harry Potter marathon or Lord of the Rings marathon? I’m letting you pick because I’m a generous, loving boyfriend.”

You tilt your head thoughtfully. “Harry Potter.”

“Good choice,” he nods approvingly as he navigates to Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. “Though I may regret this later when you start crying.”

You roll your eyes, though you know he’s right. Sirius’s death always hits hard, but today, with your emotions running higher than usual, you know it’s going to hit even harder. Still, there’s something comforting about watching a movie you’ve seen a hundred times, where you know every scene, every line. It feels like home.

As the movie starts, the two of you settle in with your food, occasionally exchanging bits of conversation and laughter between bites. Tony sneaks a few of your fries, even though he has his own, and you flick a stray piece of lettuce at him when he teases you for getting emotional over Harry’s reunion with Sirius.

Then the fateful moment arrives. As Bellatrix’s spell hits Sirius, sending him tumbling through the veil, your heart clenches. You feel your throat tighten, and before you can stop yourself, tears well up in your eyes.

Tony, of course, notices immediately.

“Oh no, here it comes,” he says softly, putting down his burger and wrapping his arm around you. “Come here, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, leaning into him as your eyes stay glued to the screen. “It’s just so unfair,” you mutter, your voice thick with emotion. “He finally had someone. He was going to have a family again.”

Tony nods, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I know. It sucks.”

You curl into him more, the sadness of the scene mingling with your already fragile emotions. The tears start to spill over, and Tony just holds you tighter, rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Let it out. I’ll cry with you if you want.”

You laugh through the tears, wiping at your eyes. “No, you won’t.”

He grins, squeezing you gently. “Alright, maybe not. But I’ll be here while you do.”

For the rest of the scene, you cling to him, the sadness ebbing and flowing as you mourn the loss of Sirius for the hundredth time. Tony doesn’t say much, just holds you close, his presence warm and reassuring. He knows better than to try to fix it—he just lets you feel what you need to feel.

As the movie moves on and your tears subside, you pull away slightly, wiping your eyes and letting out a long breath. Tony reaches over to hand you a napkin, and you smile, taking it gratefully.

“Thanks,” you mumble, dabbing at your face.

He leans in, kissing your cheek. “Anytime, babe. Anytime.”

With the worst of the tears behind you, you settle back into the comfort of Tony’s arms, the two of you snuggled up under the covers as the movie continues. The food is mostly forgotten at this point, but you don’t mind. The weight of the day, the grumpiness, the cramps—they all seem a little more distant with Tony by your side.

I'm sorry I just love Sirius so much that I had to put him here even if it's about his death...If you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog (that's what keeps Tumblr posts going) and maybe leave a comment or a follow if you want! <3

Ivy Rose

[dira333]

Of Tremors and believing in Love - Yaku x Reader

Yaku’s not sure what he expected. 

Maybe some buff Russian guy like they show in action movies, or an elderly gentleman that makes him feel like a Celebrity with a private driver.

Not you. 

You’re gorgeous, even in the unforgiving light of the airport exit area, holding up a sign that spells his name in bright red Kanji. 

He swallows nervously, hands clammy with sweat as he approaches.

He hadn’t been that nervous, he thinks, leaving Japan for an unfamiliar country. It was Volleyball and he knew Volleyball. He could rely on his talent if everything else failed, and on his iron stomach to handle whatever the Russian kitchen was going to throw at him - Lev’s tales hadn’t left him with much hope.

But he’s never been that good at talking to girls and his perpetually single status is either a symptom or the cause of this predicament.

“Hi,” he greets you, voice breaking over that one-syllable word.

“Hi,” you smile and bow in greeting. “How was your flight? Are you hungry, tired, or anything else?”

Your Japanese is perfect. He can even hear hints of a Kansai dialect hidden somewhere in between.

“A little hungry,” he admits, “I… uh… I’m Yaku, by the way. Morisuke.”

He wants to facepalm so badly. Where’s his usual coolness? Where’s his confident tone?

“Sorry,” you apologize immediately, offering your name. “I got caught up in the moment. How about we grab something to eat and get to know each other?”

Yaku nods, glad that’s something he can answer without opening his mouth and making a fool of himself.

As it turns out, he was right.

You grew up in the Kansai region, moved to Russia with your parents when you were a young teen. 

He can’t help but search for familiarity in your features, half expecting to be reminded of Lev, or Alisa. He berates himself immediately. Just because you’re Japanese-Russian too doesn’t mean you have to look like everyone else who’s Japanese-Russian.

“How did they find you?” Yaku asks as he slips into the booth, “The agency, I mean.”

“Oh, I work for Tigr Ekaterinburg. I handled your contracts. They asked me if I would be willing to show you around and be a helping hand the first few months and I agreed. Japanese players are often polite and easy to work with. Do you think you’ll be able to handle the Russians though? They can be pretty rough.”

Yaku laughs. “I do think I can. I’ve played in quite a few different teams. My classmates called me Demon-Senpai.” He laughs again at the memory, fondness washing over him.

“Tell me more about that,” you ask, your question so unusually direct for the polite tone you’re using. You flip open the Menu. “I’ll be ordering. Any allergies?”

-

“So you’re the Mom-friend of the Group,” you summarize, popping the last tiny pancake, or Syrniki, as they are called, into your mouth. You chew slowly, not letting him out of your sight.

“That’s interesting. I’ve never met a male Mom-friend.”

“I’m not-” he tries to defend himself, even though he’s heard it often enough from Kenma and Kuroo, Kai and Lev. “You really think so?”

“There’s an easy test,” you tell him with a smile. “Did you know I have actually a headache? It’s been bothering me all day.”

Worry washes over him. “Really? God, why didn’t you say so? You should rest then. Did you drink enough water?”

You laugh, the sound tinkling around him like droplets of silver.

“You failed the test. Mom-Friend detected.”

He pouts and you still. For a moment, no one speaks.

Eventually, you move again, clear your throat, and take a sip of your drink.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended.”

“Good.” You nod, your voice calm and distant. “If you want, I can show you you’re apartment now.”

- - -

Yaku’s not the first guy you get to drive around town nor will he be the last, probably.

You drop him off at his apartment, show him the few things he could have trouble with - no rice cooker in the kitchen and the bathroom works a little different over here - and leave for the office, determined to finish that project you’d been working on all week.

Hopefully, work will flush out whatever’s bothering your heart, causing it to race at the adorable little pout on Yaku’s lips.

You told him you’d pick him up later for a night out, so you leave a little early - still not done with that damned project - to put on something fancier, add some smoke to your make-up.

Yaku’s waiting in the lobby when you step in and you swallow thickly at his sight.

Most athletes like to dress as casually as they can in their free time. Jeans and a shirt are often the most you get to see. Yaku, however, is dressed in an expensive suit, hair combed back. 

You can tell he’s not a stranger to wearing suits, moving just as easily in it as he did in his tracksuit earlier.

He gets up before you can call out his name, cheeks turning a soft pink at your sight. 

That eases your nerves a little, knowing you still have at least some effect on him.

“Ready to go?” You ask, trying to ignore the way he takes you in. There’s a warmth in his eyes that’s a little unnerving. 

-

He’s even prettier under the twinkling lights of the city, leaning in when you explain something, expensive Cologne wafting around you.

“Do you want to dance?” You ask, after you’ve wandered through the city center. “Or something to eat?”

Yaku ponders the question for a moment.

“How about a bite first? I’d love to take you out to dance, though.”

His words leave you flushed and angry. That’s not what you meant, but correcting him would sound weird. 

When you suddenly have to weave through a group of tourists, his hand presses against the small of your back, warm and steady, and in way you don’t want it to. But you can’t bring yourself to tell him off, nor to move away from his touch.

-

“First year was tough”, he remembers over a bowl of Pelmeni, “Kuroo and I didn’t get along.”

“Who was Kuroo again?” You ask, offering him one of your Pirozhki.

He swipes his thumb over his phone and turns it, so you can see a picture of his old Volleyball team. Yaku’s easy to find, almost the smallest of the group. He’s grown since then, though not much, if you had to guess.

“That’s Kuroo. I know his hair looks awful, but he claims he can’t do anything about it and that it’s natural. He was our Captain in our third year. The pudding head next to him is Kenma, our genius setter. These two have been best friends since childhood.” 

He tells you each name, warmth in his voice as he remembers. It’s not hard to tell that they were close.

“Are you still in contact?” You ask, surprised when he nods. 

“With all of them?” His eyebrows wander up.

“Yes, why? Is that surprising to you?”

You feel caught and look away, but you’re unable to escape his eyes, it seems.

“A little,” you admit finally and hope that he drops it. 

Thankfully, he does.

.

Yaku’s easy to talk to. 

All too soon you find yourself walking out of that restaurant and into a nightclub, his head so close as he listens to your explanation that you could kiss him, if you wanted to, without even having to move much.

But you don’t. Because it would be weird, right? And unprofessional.

His hand is warm in yours as a new song starts and he pulls you in.

It’s a slow one and you can’t tell if that’s good or bad. 

The dance floor is packed and you’re soon pressed against him, your own heartbeat echoing in your stomach. There’s a tilt to his mouth that makes you wonder how it would taste and before you know you’re leaning in a little and he’s leaning in too.

His lips are soft and warm and he tastes like the wine you shared earlier.

His teeth graze your lower lip, just the faintest touch, but it shakes you out of your dream-like state better than a bucket of ice water ever could.

You snap back and purse your lips like they’ve offended you personally.

“I…” You hesitate, your voice breathless, “I’ll wait for you at the bar.”

.

There’s a tremor hiding in your bones.

You check your hands in the seconds it takes him to catch up to you, but you can’t tell from the outside. Good.

“I-”

“You can dance with someone else,” you tell him, voice as polite as can be. “I am only your guide, after all.”

“I don’t want to dance with anyone else.” He reaches for you but you step out of reach.

“Please,” you ask, but he shakes his head.

“Very well. Do you want to take a walk?”

.

The sky is clear above you, though it’s hard to see the stars beyond the glow of street lamps. 

Your hands are buried in the pockets of your jacket in case he tries to take one.

“Do you believe in love?” You ask after a minute when the street clears and you’re on your own. “Not in general, but in like… love for yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Makes sense.”

“It does?” Yaku looks over, confusion written all over his face.

“Sure. You’re good-looking, smart, easy to talk to. It makes sense.”

He smiles, but your stomach churns violently.

“Yaku-san,” you stop, address him in the politest way you can. “I don’t believe in love. I am sorry I just kissed you. But I cannot offer you anything of that kind.”

Yaku’s quiet for a while. His face does not give anything away. 

Eventually, he nods.

“I understand. But we can be friends, right?”

“Friends as in you’re waiting for me to change my mind about it?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Friends as in friends. I quite like your company, but I can deal with a rejection.”

You hesitate for a second before you nod.

“Friends would be nice.

- - - xxx - - -

“Have you eaten yet?” Yaku’s standing in the doorway to your office, two identical looking Bento Boxes in his hands.

“Eh?” You look up from your Desk. “No, but what are you doing here?”

“I figured. Want to share?”

You’re just about to decline when your stomach grumbles loudly. 

Yaku grins and steps closer. “I think that was a confirmation.”

-

“Hey,” Yaku’s grin is warm and inviting, his hair dripping wet. “We just finished training and the boys want to hit the city. Do you want to come along? I heard they have great Syrniki.”

He absolutely butchers the name and you can’t help but correct him.

“So?” He cocks his head to the side, waiting. “It’s just a hangout with the guys. You know at least one of them, well, besides me, I mean.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come.”

-

“Are you coming to the game this weekend?” Yaku asks as you meet him in the lobby. He always comes in early for extra training and while you haven’t yet figured out at what time he arrives, he’s already got your schedule memorized, waiting for you with a coffee and a pastry.

“I wasn’t planning to,” you admit, “My parents are coming into town. They’ve moved into the countryside a few years back.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” He nods. “I hope you’re having a great time together.”

“We will.” You take a sip of coffee and can’t help the teasing comment slipping through your lips. “Aren’t you going to tell me that you’re going to play much worse now that I’m not there to cheer you on?”

“Your presence or lack thereof isn’t going to affect my game,” he tells you, voice serious, confidence so deeply laced into his tone it catches your breath, “But I prefer to celebrate my wins and losses with the people I care about.”

“O-oh…” you stammer, suddenly overwhelmed, “I… guess that makes sense. W-we can celebrate on Monday.”

-

“Girl, I don’t know how you do it,” your best friend comments and you can almost smell the alcohol on her breath - through the phone. “You decline every offer to have a relationship yet you have these fine men running after you? Why does this never work for me?”

“You can’t say no.”

“True.” She chuckles dryly. “But it’s a shame you didn’t get to watch that game. He was looking fine. I might not have understood all that much but he was doing well. At least if you believe the commentators.”

“I’m sure he did his best,” you tell her calmly, yet unable to keep from biting down on your fingernail. 

“Don’t worry, I recorded it. I’m sending the file over now.”

Your home computer dings with an incoming mail and you heave a sigh. 

“I don’t have time to watch it tonight. My parents just left and I’m exhausted.”

“Don’t tell me they asked you about grandchildren…”

You sigh again and she laughs. 

“Go, take a nap. The world will look better in the morning.”

And it will… but you can’t help yourself, press play instead of going to bed as you intended.

And your friend is right. 

Yaku looks good. He moves with the calm confidence of a professional.

If you could convince yourself that attraction is all it takes to lead a healthy relationship, you might have taken a leap of faith. 

-

Staying up late comes back to bite you in the butt.

No amount of concealer can cover the dark rings under your eyes.

“Long weekend,” Yaku asks when he meets you in the Lobby, coffee and a pastry in hand.

“Mhm,” you nod and take a large sip of coffee, hoping for it to fuel you. It doesn’t.

You chat for a bit but you need to get going and so does he, so you part with the quickest of hugs.

There are only a few steps leading down to the elevators, steps you’ve taken day after day after day for years, but today, you miss the last one.

Your right foot lands wrong, pain shoots through your ankle and you yelp. Your half-empty coffee cup goes flying, just like your pastry and you can see the mess you’ve made but all you can do is cower and clutch your ankle.

“Are you okay?” Yaku’s voice cuts through the ringing in your ears. There’s worry in his eyes. It lights the cold fire of shame in your veins. God, you just rolled your ankle, there’s no reason to make a big fuss about it.

“Sure, yeah, all fine!” You tell him, grinding your teeth as you get up. Nausea wells up inside you but you swallow it down. 

“We should get it looked at,” Yaku insists, hands hovering just a few inches above your skin.

“Stop worrying!” You bite out, tone harsher than necessary. But he doesn’t flinch.

“I know it’s a lot, but it will only take a minute, okay?” He insists, voice warm and soft and calming, like hot cocoa on a cold day. You can feel the tremor coming back, want nothing more than to sink into him.

“I’m fine,” you insist, taking one cautious step. It hurts, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

“Yeah, for now.” He follows you, bends faster than you to pick up the coffee cup and the pastry. Someone’s going to have to mop the floor, but Yaku’s already waving at the receptionist and you’re too focused on grinding your teeth against the pain to complain.

“Stop worrying about me, okay?! We’re not that close.”

Hurt flickers over his face like candlelight. 

“I’d do this for everyone,” he insists. “I don’t mess with accidents. Please? It’s only a short trip down the hall for a first check-up. If our doc thinks it’s nothing I won’t bother you anymore.”

You agree, mostly just to get this over with.

But it’s not nothing. 

.

You must have fallen asleep, face pressed against the window of his car, because his hand is warm against your cheek and your name falls softly from his lips.

“Yaku?” You ask and he nods. 

“We’re at the hospital. Can you walk?”

“Sure,” you insist, grind your teeth through the pain. Yaku must have seen through your lies, though, getting a wheeling chair at the next chance.

He’s with you through the whole ordeal and you hate it but you don’t ask him to leave you alone. His warm hand on your shoulder is the only thing that keeps you from crying.

He’s there until the very end when they plaster up your leg up to your knee and you can’t help but laugh at the fact that you’ve made it so far in life without a broken bone, yet a single missed step has changed it all.

“I’ll take you home now,” Yaku insists as soon as you’re back in his car. “Are you hungry? We can stop and get some food on the way.”

“I just want to sleep,” you admit. “Forget this happened.”

“I think that’s going to take some time. The plaster stays one for the three weeks.”

“Don’t remind me.”

.

It’s only when he parks in front of your apartment block that you realize.

You live on the fifth level. No elevator. 

Stubbornly you grab your crutches and move toward the first step when Yaku stops you. 

“Do you want to carry me up?”

“No!”

“Okay,” he nods. “But you can’t make that trek. Not today for sure, and not every day for the next three weeks. Do you have any friends you could stay at where that’s not a problem?

You hesitate. Most of your friends have similar apartments and if they don’t, they can’t offer more than an air-mattress on the floor for you to sleep on.

“You can sleep on my couch,” Yaku’s voice is low, soft, and casual. This is nothing big to him, not like it is to you.

“Or I carry you up and you have to take the next three weeks off because you cannot get up and down here without help.”

He’s right. 

And it’s not that you have to work, you’re pretty sure you classify for sick leave at this point, not to mention that you have enough vacation days saved to take off half of the time without a problem. 

In the end, you oblige. And because you want to pack your own things, you agree to a piggyback ride up the stairs.

If Yaku notices how your face is pressed into his neck, your tears soaking his shirt, he doesn’t mention it. His hands are warm and steady around your thighs and he carries you up without breaking a sweat, telling you a funny story to distract you all the way.

-

It’s weird. It’s cozy. It’s everything at the same time.

You get to go through his list watchlist - which feels more personal than going through his underwear drawer - and watch him prepare Dinner for the two of you. 

You sit naked in his bathtub - door closed of course - and open the bottles of shower gel and shampoo to sniff at them like the crazy person you are but when the door opens and you limp outside he’s sitting at his desk practicing Russian, not even sparing your scrubbed clean form a glance.

Yaku’s switched his routine without a second thought, makes breakfast at home now and drives you to work.

He’s the best friend one could ask for, a man so good you wouldn’t believe he existed without the proof you have. But he has a hissy fit in front of you when his friend from school makes a joke about his size. 

And maybe that’s the last straw, the last proof you needed. 

Because people aren’t just always good. People are people, human and fallible, and there’s always something that makes them break their perfect facade.

For you, it’s the pain of having to rely on someone else.

For Yaku, it’s the pain of being looked down on.

-

Tomorrow your cast will come off.

Tomorrow you will move back into your own apartment.

You’re not sure how things between the two of you will be then.

But since there’s no way to turn back time, to go back to how things were before, you can try and find out how things could be instead.

“Yaku?” You ask into the silence of an early night.

“Yeah?” His voice is scratchy and sluggish like he’s just on the border of sleep.

“Are you still awake?”

“Am now.”

“What if I changed my mind?”

“About what?”

“Love.”

Silence. Then, the rustling of sheets and soft steps on the floor.

“Are you being serious?” He asks and his voice sounds so warm and excited, so young and full of anticipation. 

“Yeah.”

“Well,” he clears his throat awkwardly, now only two steps away. “It depends if you mean me with that change of my mind. If you mean someone else I think I’ll have to get a lawyer before I answer.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I meant you.”

He giggles and there’s a slap as if he’s clamped a hand over his mouth urgently. 

You turn a little on the Couch, try to make him out in the dark.

“Do you want to cuddle?” You ask and there’s the swoosh of quick movement as he leaps onto the Couch.

“Boy, do I ever!”

- - - xxx - - -

The air smells the same, but maybe it’s just the airport. 

Yaku’s hand takes yours, warm and safe and well-known.

“Excited?” He asks, laughs when you pull a face.

“They’ll love you,” he insists and leans in to kiss you, not caring about all the people around you, or the fact that Kuroo’s going to be here any second to pick you up, or that your hair is a mess and you’re not wearing any make-up.

His lips are soft and warm, just like they were on that first night. 

You sink into the touch and when his teeth graze your lower lip and the tremors come, you embrace them.

Even if you shiver, you’ll never freeze.

You’ve got Yaku there to warm you, after all.

[munson-blurbs]

The ending was adorable 🥹 Everyone is going to ask for the proposal and the wedding and all that amazing stuff… but I really want to see the Disney trip and Wayne on Its a Small World 😂

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: The whole Munson clan embarks on their first trip to Disney World; as expected, it's filled with both magic and mayhem.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Also requested by @tvserie-s-world!

June 2002

The Munson chaos, as it turns out, is not limited to Hawkins. It tags along everywhere, including family vacations.

Especially family vacations.

“Babe, where’s the sunscreen?” “I wanna see Mickey!” “Ed, have you seen my hat?” “I’m hungry!”

Taking a deep breath, you toss Eddie the bottle of Coppertone, remind Harris that you actually had to get to the Magic Kingdom before seeing any of the characters, find Wayne’s ball cap in the bottom of his suitcase, and scrounge up a baggy of Cheerios for Hendrix. 

“Okay, are we ready to go?”

Your question is met with an emphatic chorus of yeses as the five of you leave the hotel room and make a beeline for the shuttle bus. 

Eddie tries to scoop Hendrix into his arms; try as he might, your two-year-old’s chubby legs just can’t carry him very far, very fast. He scrunches up his face and squirms out of Eddie’s grasp. 

“Wan’ walk!” Hendrix pouts, lower lip jutting out in sheer defiance. 

An exasperated sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “There’s gonna be a lot of walking later, buddy.” But he knows there’s no sense in arguing, and he settles for holding the boy’s hand. He’s heard tales of Disney meltdowns, but he was hoping to avoid one before the day even started. 

The Florida heat is no joke. It envelops you like a casing, and you’re grateful for the air conditioned bus. Everyone sits down, Hendrix on your lap, and you lean in to discuss the day’s plans. 

“So,” you begin, “I really want to get a picture of all of us in front of the castle. After that, we can split up. I know Harris wants to ride Space Mountain—”

“And Splash Mountain and Big Thunder,” he interjects, a seriousness in his eyes. As though you could have forgotten—all he’s talked about for weeks are those three rides. 

You nod in acknowledgment. “One thing at a time.” The reminder is gentle, a nudge to keep him focused on a single goal so he didn’t overwhelm himself. Turning back to the group, you continue the rundown. “Wayne, you’re fine taking Hendrix on a few rides by yourself?”

The older man grins. “Can’t wait to have that damn doll song stuck in my head.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie raise his hand. 

“Yes?”

“I’m actually gonna sit Space Mountain out,” he says, sheepishness seeping into his cheeks. “So I can go with Wayne and Hendrix, and then we can all meet up after.”

Harris looks at his father in bewilderment. “Dad, are you afraid?”

“N-No!” Eddie sputters, sighing when you shoot him a glare that tells him to be honest. “I mean, yeah, a little. But you and Mom should still go on it.”

“It’s just you and me, kiddo.” You smile at Harris and return to the task at hand. “And then we’ll all go on the Peter Pan ride together before we grab lunch.”

Everyone nods in agreement, though you know that actually executing the idea will be much more of a challenge. You take the win for now, climbing off of the bus with Hendrix in your arms with the rest of the family behind you.

A jovial melody surrounds you as you enter the Magic Kingdom, putting some extra pep in your step. You feel the excitement building; not just from the boys, but from the adults, too. Neither Eddie nor Wayne have been here before, and they’re just as eager to start the vacation.

Your breath hitches as you make your way down Main Street, U.S.A. and Cinderella Castle finally comes into view.

“I’ll be damned,” Wayne mutters under his breath, his voice breaking slightly. “Looks just like the movie.”

You reach out and take Eddie’s hand, squeezing it gently as the five of you take in the sight. Tears blur your vision, and you can only imagine that Eddie’s experiencing the same.

We did it. We’re at Disney World with our family.

You manage to stave off the tears long enough to ask a Cast Member to snap a photo with your disposable Kodak camera. 

“Say cheese!” The woman chirps with a smile of her own, and you all comply–even Wayne.

As soon as the shutter clicks, the usual pandemonium resumes. Harris is tugging on your hand and dragging you towards Tomorrowland. 

“Remember, Har,” you say, “we might have to wait in line for a while.” It’s a concept you thoroughly went over prior to the trip, but it never hurts to remind him.

Since you’d started out early, the queue isn’t terribly long; nothing that can’t be handled with a few rounds of I Spy. Before you know it, you’re boarding your tiny rocketship right behind Harris. The ten-year-old is practically bouncing out of his seat, and you’re more than grateful for the lap bar holding him in place.

Harris squeals with delight at each banked turn, even putting his hands in the air as he gets braver towards the end of the ride. Adrenaline buzzes through him when the ride comes to a stop, and he darts for the exit.

“Wait for me!” You call out, and he pauses until you get your very not ten-year-old body out of the cramped vehicle. It used to be a lot easier to stand up when you were his age, but you eventually catch up with Harris to head to Fantasyland.

What you find there is the last thing you would have imagined.

Eddie walks out of one of the myriad gift shops, with Hendrix in his arms and Wayne beside both of them. Your younger son has a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his head, and one in his hands–for Harris, you assume–but what’s out of the ordinary is what the men are wearing.

“Oh…my…god!” You cackle, and Harris joins you when he sees his dad and grandpa wearing matching tall Goofy hats, the floppy ears swaying against their cheeks.

Eddie grins, doing a small spin that proves more difficult when carrying a two-year-old. “How do we look?” He asks.

Stifling further laughter, you shake your head. “Incredible.” When you reach him, you give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”

“I think that says more about you than it does me, Sweetheart.”

Harris takes his souvenir from his little brother and slides the string under his chin. Both of them look absolutely precious, and you snap another picture before either can protest.

“Oh, one last thing.” Eddie reaches into a mouse-printed bag and pulls out a gold plastic tiara, covered in glitter with a photo of Belle in the center. He carefully places it atop your head and you secure it against your scalp. “There,” he murmurs, “pretty like a princess.”

A warmth settles into you that is unrelated to the humidity. You swear you could gaze into his eyes for an eternity, losing yourself in the hazel flecks that accentuated the chocolate irises—

“It’s Mickey!”

You follow where Hendrix is pointing; sure enough, the world’s most famous mouse was walking to a designated spot, flanked by an entourage of handlers. It’s the opposite direction of Peter Pan’s Flight, but you’re not about to compete with Mickey Mouse himself. 

Hendrix’s jubilation wanes as he gets closer to the character, chubby fingers digging into Eddie’s biceps. When he reaches the front of the line, he begins outright wailing, face buried in his dad’s shirt. 

Frowning, you try to peel him away. “Hendrix, it’s our turn!” You tell him, trying to rebuild the excitement with no success. “Don’t you wanna meet Mickey?”

“Too scary!” He sobs, his little body shaking with fear. 

You look at your husband, pushing away the urge to freeze up and throw a tantrum of your own. “Okay, I’ll take Hendrix; you and Wayne stay with Har—”

But Harris is faster, nudging between you and Eddie to place a hand on his brother’s back. “Hen, you don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna be right there with you.” He glances at Mickey, then back at Hendrix. “I know he’s a lot bigger than on TV, but he’s not going to hurt you.”

The crying subsides, save for a few hiccups. Hendrix sloppily wipes at his damp cheeks and holds his arms out so Harris can take him. They walk hand-in-hand, the youngest Munson glued to his big brother’s side. 

Harris waves at Mickey, imploring Hendrix to do the same. He obliges, albeit timidly, but there’s no mistaking the joyful giggle that escapes him when Mickey returns the gesture. 

Eddie laces his fingers with yours, metal rings warm from the summer sun. “Can you get a picture of this?” You nod and reluctantly let go of him, forever capturing the moment with the click of a button. 

The rest of the day is spent waiting in line, riding attractions with colorful scenery, scarfing down Mickey-shaped food items, and taking a much-needed midday nap at the hotel. The sleep recharges you enough to head back out to the park after dinner.

The sun begins to set, though the temperature barely drops a single degree. Your group finds a bench right outside Liberty Square. Wayne sits with Hendrix on his lap, Eddie next to him, and you take a seat at the end. Harris stays standing, leaning against the wooden back only to help him get his jumps out. 

“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!” A cheerful disembodied voice comes over the park’s sound system. “Our fireworks presentation, Fantasy in the Sky, is about to begin. Thank you!”

You dig in your bag and pull out some wax earplugs for Harris. Hendrix extends his hand for his own pair, always wanting to be just like his big brother. 

Fireworks light up the sky, bright pink and blue and green hues that leave wispy trails of smoke in their wake. Harris keeps his fingers pressed to his ears to block out any additional noise, but it doesn’t detract from the smile on his face. 

Perhaps the only person more enamored with the show is Wayne. The lights illuminate his awe-struck face, mouth agape, as though he’s in disbelief of the magic surrounding him. 

Eddie leans down to kiss your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Havin’ a good time, Sweetheart?” he mumbles against your skin. 

You nod, looking up and pressing your lips to his cheek. “Are you?”

He takes in the sight of his sons and his uncle, together in a place he’s only ever dreamed of visiting. And he has you by his side; more than that, you are the reason he’s here at all. 

“I’ve never been happier.”

--

[duckymcdoorknob]

Hi ducky can I please have an emergency request? can u write a story for a y/n who keeps her emotions in bc every time she tries to tell someone someone else complains about something.

and I think u started watching black clover so can u write it with luck and magna ? either together or separate is okey.

thank u 💔

Yes you sure can.

Bumping this one up bc I’m really feeling this hardcore rn

I may make this kinda self-indulgent with the issues y/n is facing???

My dms are open if you wanna vent! I’m here for you, anon. 💜💜💜💜

CW BELOW THE CUT: none.

Luck Voltia and Magna Swing

Things weren’t going too well for you, there’s no way to hide that fact.

From whatever it was, your day was poisoned by unhappiness, and you didn’t know what to do to aid it.

Of course, you refused to let any of the other bulls in on how you were feeling. It was especially difficult to keep Asta from pestering you; the kid is very attentive.

“Show. Never tell.” Is what you would tell yourself, forcing the feelings back into a tiny box.

You tried so hard to keep your face up as you walked through the base, but most days it was impossible to get anything besides a hopeless frown.

When asked how you were, you shrugged it off, merely explaining that you just have a “resting sad face”

Many believed you, nodding with an “ohh” while walking away.

But Magna we’re not buying into any of your nonsense. The two would exchange worried glances at your excuses.

When the team slowly gathered together in the living room after dinner, you were not doing great whatsoever. Your mood was sour, and you were barely focused on anything.

“Hey, everything alright?” Asta asked as he sat next to you. “You didn’t eat at dinner, and usually you have a great appetite.”

You sighed with a broken smile, “To be honest I’m-“

“Oh my god, Asta, did you see what Yami had me doing today? I didn’t get a break once! I’m so tired of being his wheels all the time,” Finral whined as he plopped down next to the anti-magic user.

To your dismay, everyone gathered around their senior to listen to his tale of woe, leaving you behind and ignored again.

You stand up and retreat to your bedroom, leaving without a single word.

You didn’t have much time alone before there was a gentle knocking on your door. “(Y/N)? Can we come in?” It was Luck’s voice…?

You didn’t reply, instead burying your head into your pillow. You heard their bickering through the door.

“Looks like we’re doing this the hard way-“

“Magna no! They didn’t give us permission to come in-“

“And what if something happened to them?? Would you rather us stand out here and do nothing when-“

“You need to respect their wishes!”

“You can come in,” you say stoically, not moving from your previous position.

The door opens slowly, revealing the two bulls.

“Hey, careful doing that,” Magna quickly made his way over to your bed, turning your head toward them. “You’ll suffocate if you don’t leave room for air.”

“Whatever…” you murmur, eyes glazed over.

“(N/N),” Luck begins, “Are you okay?”

You sit upright to greet them “Yeah I’m-“

“No, like actually okay,” he interrupts, moving to sit next to you.

There’s a solemn silence…

“Hey, (N/N), tell us what’s going on, kid,” Magna hums as he brushes a few stray hairs out of your face, sitting on your other side.

They wait with baited breath for your reply, worry evident in their eyes.

“I’m not okay… and I don’t know what to do,” you finally confess in a sotto-voce tone.

Both put a supportive hand on your back or shoulder, listening carefully.

“Everything is falling apart… and I-I’m not sure what to do. I’m usually g-good at fixing things but…” you laugh a bit in pitifulness, “I can’t even fix myself.”

“You don’t have to fix yourself; that’s why we’re here,” the mowhawked mage mutters, squeezing your shoulder gingerly.

“But what if I can’t be fixed? What if I have to live like this every day?”

“Nothing lasts forever,” Luck’s sweet voice chimes. “Time won’t stop whenever you feel sad, it will keep moving and you’ll be forced to feel better.”

“It feels so hopeless… nobody cares…” you whisper

“That’s not-“ he attempts.

“It is true. The moment Fin complained, everyone turned to listen to him instead. I don’t feel heard or respected… I don’t-“ tears start to fill your eyes “I feel so alone.”

“Hey,” Magna’s low voice sounds, “You are far from alone…” he wipes a falling tear with his thumb. “You have people who love you and are willing to support you every step of the way.”

“Yeah!” A quiet cheer of approval left the lightning mage. “You know how much we love you, and we would do anything for you to feel like yourself again.”

The flame mage gets in front of you, locking your eyes. “Tell us anything that’s on your mind… what’s making you feel like less than you are? Anything is fair game, don’t be afraid.”

You look around at their concerned faces once more, and suddenly everything falls apart. Your shoulders heave up and down as your body is wracked with the sobs you’ve been keeping hidden.

As you wail loudly, the two instantly move in to hug you. Magna cradles your head against his chest while Luck hugs around your torso and lays his head on your lap.

The two wordlessly cling onto you as you spill your tale of woe. Many—having heard your pained cries— attempt to check in multiple times. Magna shooed them instantly, shooting a death glare to anyone who tried to enter.

When you finally finished, you slumped downward, resting in their loving embrace. “Thank you…”

“Anytime, kid… anytime.” Magna whispered as he pats your shoulder.

When no response was given from the Cherry berserker, the two of you look down to notice that he had fallen asleep on your lap.

And for the first time that day, you started laughing.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[sanjisboyfie]

halloween with the strawhats !

little headcanons i have for halloween !! ! ! ( a a couple days after )

male reader, platonic pairings, straw hats are just a cute lil friendgrouip + don't ask me why zoro and luffys are so short, i don't know why either. i think they just got longer the more down the list you go sooorrryyyyy

also more so modern???au

— luffy definitely wants to do a group costume, something silly and fun. he tries his hardest in convincing everyone to get on board with the idea, but it seems like usopp and chopper are the only ones hearing him out </3 luffy would try hitting you with the puppy dog eyes, but you were already committed to your costume for a while so you had to reject the poor boy.

"b-but, [name]!!!" it was obvious the man was putting on his best whiny voice, elongating every syllable in your name just to sway you. he was also rocking the both of you back and forth in a hug to woo you over in joining his group costume. "it won't be the same without you dressed up with us!"

"luffy, i already decided my costume much earlier in the year, i'm sorry," you said, petting down his raven hair with an apologetic look on your face. but your words only sullened his mood further and made the pout on his face turn into an outright frown.

"but, [name]!!!" luffy began shaking you even more roughly, turning you into a bobble head figure basically. you couldn't do anything to break out of his strong grip and just had to take his torment with a smile.

"i'm sorry luffy," you said softly, runnng a hand up and down his arm to comfort him.

"i don't forgive you!" luffy childishly whined, releasing you from his hold and walking off to a different aisle in the halloween costume store. "whatever, you're the one missing out!"

"i believe you, luffy," you called out, laughing when you heard him grumble under his breath and stomp in annoyance.

— zoro definitely has a lazy ass costume, mainly because he thinks the holiday is a silly thing for children (usopp, luffy, and chopper all lectured him on how it wasn't like that at all). i'm thinking he jsut wrapped himself in toilet paper and said he was a mummy, also using his costume as an excuse to just speaks in grunts and groans to everyone else.

"zoro, could you pour me some more punch!" you had politely asked him as he was closest to the juice bowl. he simply shook his head with his arms crossed over his wrapped chest, giving you a firm, "arrhhggh,"

"zoro, what?"

"uurghghruuhg"

"okay, fuck you too,"

— nami is invested in making some money off of the holiday!! she's committed to it. she has a really pretty costume planned out and forces everyone to participate in a costume contest with a submission fee of 50 bucks, even though it was just your friend group participating. either way, she decides that the winner of the contest gets all the profit. so she wins - obviously in a non-rigged way - and cheers in victory. but even with all of her focus being on getting some cash out of the holiday, she does compliment your costume and slide you a couple bills.

"hm, i was scared you were gonna beat me, y'know?" she mused, looking at you with a mischeviously look on her face, "because i really like your costume, [name]! you look great!"

you grinned at the compliment, "thanks, you do too! and that's why you won, you have the best costume. plus, sanji would have never let me won that prize since he knows how badly you wanted the reward,"

she playfully rolled her eyes at the mention of the blonde, "yeah, well, sanji doesn't have to know about this then," she said, pulling some bills out from her pocket and putting it into your own. "next year don't expect this treatment though! i was feeling generous just now,"

you smirked, taking the cash from her happily and watching as she joined robin's side.

— usopp is the life of the celebration. he is the best story teller of horror stories, even if he himself gets scared of his own made up tales. he brings everyone into the center, under a huge blanket fort and tells the scariest story known to man. but when he reaches the climax, luffy suddenly pops his head into the enclosed space, loudly asking if anyone else wanted food, and completely threw usopp off of his game. the poor man let out a loud girlish scream and jumped into your lap to hide from luffy's grinning face.

"and then when the killer," usopp took a deep breath, looking at everyone's face individually, "finally came knocking on poor little billy's door, he was greeted by the sight of-"

"oh!! i'm getting more food from the kitchen, do you guys want anything?!" luffy had got up for a bathroom break earlier and completely ruined usopp's horror story. his make-up drenched face pushed the blankets aside and completely surprised everyone in the fort. especially usopp.

usopp jumped off of his sitting position and into your lap, hiding his face in your neck for some comfort. he was practically crying and whimpering from fear, eyes screwed shut as he refused to look at the demon (luffy) that was there to terrorize him and his friends (ask if they wanted more food).

"begone, demon!! begone!!" usopp pathetically cried out, also not even looking up at the supposed demon to condemn them.

"usopp, it's just luffy-"

"demon! demonic activity! demon!!!"

— chopper really enjoys the nature of halloween despite being scared very easily. while the place is in an uproar of just ultimate chaos, he's very kindly giving out candy to whoever comes by. unfortunately, not everyone that comes around is dressed in peaceful, cute costumes.

just as you were pouring another drink for zoro. there was a loud, girlish scream that was coming from the front door. the green haired man took the drink for himself, grunting at you. you could only guess what he meant by that.

but you didn't dwell on it further, moving to see what was at the front door. and lo and behold, there was chopper stiffly standing in front of someone in a freddy krueger costume.

"ah, sorry, he scares easily," you explained quickly, resting a hand on chopper shoulder and asking if he was alright. seeing that his shaking eyes were still trained on the figure, you decided to take the candy bowl from his hands and protectively stand in front of him.

even though this guy definitely didn't pose any harm to chopper, it would make the scared guy feel better (probably) to have a physical barrier between the two.

"here, have a good halloween," you said with a smile, making the freddy krueger nod in appreciation and then walk off of the porch. when they were gone, you closed and locked the door behind them and turned to chopper with a grin.

"c'mon man, they were just in costume," you teased, relieved to see chopper was out of his fearful state and instead blushing in embarassment.

"freddy was a scary guy!!" he argued, but it only made you pinch his cheeks in a harmless way.

"right, right, well you were very brave just now chopper,"

"of course i was!!!"

— sanji is dressed up as a prince and goes around proclaiming his loyalty to robin and nami the whole night. he becomes more playful, though, so he doesn't really give you guys (literally, the guys) a hard time. if anything, he joins in the shenagians and lets loose a little bit. one of the rare times you get to see sanji being a mischevious little shit.

"bleh! who put salt in the cupcakes instead of sugar?!"

cue sanji giggling behind his hand and shooting you a knowing look. you laugh with him, fist bumping him under the table while he watched luffy run around and wash his mouth under the kitchen sink.

"why is the frosting sour cream?! sanji, i'm gonna beat your ass up!!"

zoro chases after sanji, those being the first coherent words he says the entire night, mind you. and now they're both running in circles around you. sanji is laughing his ass off while zoro is spitting out globs of sour cream at him.

"sanji!!! why did you pout bittermelon in the stew this tastes like ass!"

"oh! i'm sorry, [name], that was supposed to be for franky," sanji apologized, going through the cabinets and finding some stew he put in the tupperware. it was still hot, you could tell from the bottom of the container.

"why are you so mean to them today?"

"i can just get away with it by sying it's a ghost," sanji shrugged, half-assedly answering your question. "besides, don't you think it's funny?"

"it is, but sooo heartless," you laughed, making the blonde nod his head in acknowledgement.

just as he was about to say something else, there was another shriek coming from the living area, "sanji!!! this isn't strawberry glaze, this is hot sauce!!!"

"why are you yelling for me, it was the ghost!!" sanji shouted back, making the both of you collapse on each other in laughter.

— robin enjoys how everything is so lively during halloween. she loves the spookiness, the decorations, the horror movies!!!, she just loves everything about the holiday. it's a genuinely fun time of the year for her so she just loves to take it easy with you guys.

robin was slumped against the sofa, chuckling at the way chopper and usopp shrieked at the character on the screen killing another person. it was a classic slasher film she suggested and no one had a problem with it, except for usopp and chopper being scared straight through their teeth.

meanwhile, you and robin were enjoying the movie with grins on your faces. you'd sometimes feed her popcorn, her doing the same for you, and then you'd both laugh quietly whenever usopp and chopper started getting really spooked.

after the movie, you and robin reconvened in the kitchen to get more refreshments. you were talking about the movie, chatting in good nature.

"i don't know, i still think stu macher is the best ghostface," you said with a smile, "billy is the one people always talk about, but stu is my favorite,"

"well, maybe the best ghostface, but i don't know about best slasher," she said in amusement, "i like jason,"

you grimaced, "really? his mask is so creepy,"

"that's why, his character is cool," robin shrugged, taking a cherry from the platter of eating it with a hum, "also, the movie was good, i liked it,"

you grinned, ruffling her hair as she shot you a mischevious grin. her affinity towards slasher, or any horror, movie was known amongst the friendgroup. she enjoyed the rush scary movies gave watchers.

"remind me to never cross you, who knows what you might do," you joked, making her scoff and lightly jab her finger into your side. she allowed you to rest your arm around her shoulder, the both of you walking back to the living room with a big bowl of popcorn and tray of drinks.

— franky is a big decorations guy. he makes everything so festive!! plus he goes all out. don't ask him why he decided to put a fake skeleton in the shower, he'll just respond that it was his creative vision and it was a good one too. you appreciate his dedication to the holiday, although you do wish you could just walk around the house without fearing for your life at hyper realistic decorations all around.

when you first arrived to the party, you told franky you were going to drop something off in the bedroom of brook. it was some prop he was asking for his performance coming up.

you were supposed to just drop it off in his bedroom. but why was it that after you turned around from brook's bedside table, there was a figure in a scary mask standing behind the door and staring right at you. you were about to scream before the figure suddenly fell ont he ground, showing that it was just a paper cut out.

"franky!! what the fuck!!" you shouted in frustration, stomping out of the room and going to give the man a piece of your mind.

but as you were walking out of the room, and into the hallway, a figure jumped out of one of the many open doors and scared the shit out of you. this time your fist shot out and nailed the masked figure in the face, making them fold over and hold their nose.

"c'mon [name]!! what the hell!!"

"no, franky, what the hell at yourself!!" you screeched, seeing the familiar face after he took off his mask. you fretted over his face, apologizing over and over again at him. "i'm so sorry, but - seriously what was that thing in brook's room!?"

"it's called a halloween decoration, asshole!" franky cursed, holding onto his nose.

"yeah, and i thought that someone was there to kill me! why'd you put shit in his room anyway?"

"to scare you, obviously!" franky said, allowing you to examine his face and wincing when you saw the damage that was done. "sorry for scaring you,"

you softened at his apology, lightly tugging on a strand of his hair and murmuring an "i'm sorry, too." he grinned at your apology, smiling ear to ear as he assured you he'd be fine.

"they were scary, i'll tell you that," you said, standing the both of you up and guiding him to the sink. but he shook his head, nursing his nose with his hand.

"you know how many time i've broken my nose, this is just a scratch. didn't even make my nose bleed," franky assured you, laughing as you realized that what he was saying was true. how many times franky has broken his nose when he'd been working was uncountable.

"yeah, let's just forget it happened then," you said, making franky hum in approval.

"oh! but don't tell zoro about that thing up there, i plan on scaring him too,"

you laughed, nodding your head and deciding that it would be funny to hear zoro scream out in fear.

— brook is another person that like robin, enjoys anything horror related. he hides around corners or in closests and waits to make someone his victim. and if it isn't anyone in your friend group, he will go around terrorizing the trick or treaters.

"boo!!!"

"ahhh!!!"

there was a scream that followed brook's and then a parent could be heard yelling at him. the rest of the strawhats all ran to the window to see what was happening and everyone winced when they saw a parent was easily chewing out brook for hiding in the bushes and scaring their poor child.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair and walking over to the front door to collect brook since everyone else was too busy laughing their asses off at his predicament.

"ma'am, i'm sorry for his behavior," you started, walking up to brook and taking ahold of him by his elbow, "i'll just bring him inside,"

"no! i'm not done yelling at him yet!"

"have a lovely night, ma'am," you said, turning away from her and taking brook inside to scold him yourself. you looked over your shoulder and saw the woman was disgruntled, but instead focused on comforting her scared to death child.

"what is up with you?! that was a kid who wasn't even 10 years old!"

"but-but!!" brook's laughter echoed in the home, making everyone else join in, "his face was so funny!!!"

you bit your lip, trying to keep a level head and be responsible instead of just joining in on the laughter. but when brook was beginning to mimic the kid's expression, you broke out laughing along with eveyone else.

"and his mom was so mad! and began scolding me like i was her own kid too!!"

"just quit scaring the shit out of kids!" you shouted, slapping him on the backside of his head - but your words didn't really get your point across because you were laughing as much as he was.

— jinbe doesn't really understand the hype of halloween, but he can see how enjoyable it is for everyone else. he doesn't rain down on anyone's parade, bearing through the scares that brook and franky get up to, while also being a reliable figure for usopp and chopper during the horror movie. let's just say by the end of the night, you and jinbe are all tired out as you were being the "baby sitters" of everyone for the whole day.

on the night of halloween, it was basically a big party and sleepover for everyone in the friend group. you and jinbe were working overtime basically to make sure everyone was alright. luffy could possibly be eating suspicious candy, but thank god jinbe knocked it out of his hand before then. you were on duty to be comforting usopp and chopper whenever a shadow passed over the window - even though it was just a tree branch swaying in the wind.

finally, the night was over (it was the early hours in the morning by the time everyone was tired) and you and jinbe were tiredly spread acorss the couch. the group had set up a fort on the floor with the couches surrounding them. they were all sleeping on the mats and blankets they set out for themselves, cuddling to their hearts' content.

jinbe sighed in content of finally being able to rest, putting on a calming nature show on the tv instead of the horror movies that we were all binging.

you laughed at his obvious exasperation and he just waved his hand to you dismissively, showing that he didn't care about showing just how tired he was.

"i can't believe sanji made the glaze tabasco sauce," jinbe said under his breath, making another rouse of laughter come from your mouth.

"did you hear zoro finally say anything besides belrrhh and uurgghh," you said, exaggerating the sounds zoro was making. jinbe covered his mouth to stop his laughter from waking everyone else up. "i mean, seriously if he wanted to just not talk to us, he could've just stayed home,"

jinbe smacked the couch cushion as a means of hiding his laughter, turning to you with tears in his eyes, "you know he enjoys arguing with you and sanji more than he'd admit, there's no way he would have missed out on this,"

you both broke out into loud laughter, making zoro turn over and throw a pillow at you in his sleep ridden state. he sleepily told you to shut up, making jinbe point a finger at his sleepy state.

"see! like i said, in his sleep he can't help it!!!!"

the strawhats are just the cutest ugh. happy halloween everyone 😻☝️school is my biggest opp rn so i ltr have noooo chances to write or upload but hipefully this weekend i can ‼️‼️‼️

tags - platonic

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

for the kiss prompts - a playful kiss to make the other stop rambling + geraskier, pretty please 🥺

Jaskier has never been one to suffer stage fright. Since the first time he gave an impromptu performance at one of his parents’ banquets at the age of seven, he’s soaked up the spotlight at any chance he can get. There’s nothing he delights in more than having a crowded tavern or ballroom watching him with starry eyes, hanging onto his every word. He knows he’s good at what he does, a far cry from the boy who used to get bread pelted at his head while he sang about hags and abortions.

Except that as he stands behind the stage at the Oxenfurt Music Festival, listening to a pair of Nazairi troubadours sing a lovely duet, his insides roil with the same queasy nervousness he’s carried with him all day. He glances over at Geralt to make sure the witcher doesn’t notice. Geralt is leaning against the wall, looking remarkably stoic for a man who has been dragged to a music festival entirely against his will. 

Jaskier can’t let him know how nervous he is, not when Geralt took on two wyverns singlehandedly only three days ago. The fact that Jaskier, who has been a traveling bard for years, who has faced far scarier things than a crowd of onlookers (usually while cowering behind Geralt, but his point stands) has stage fright is too mortifying to admit. Luckily, Jaskier is excellent at keeping his feelings under wraps after years of traveling with his witcher. He’s sure Geralt has no idea.

“You’re nervous,” Geralt says.

Fuckity fuck.

“Nervous?” Jaskier breaks off in a monologue about how he lost the Student Bardic Competition to Valdo Marx his final year due to trickery and biased judging. “I’m not nervous! Merely excited to claim yet another in my long list of accolades.”

“You stink of anxiety.”

Jaskier just manages to resist the urge to sniff himself. “Why, thank you, Geralt. How kind of you to say. And here I thought you liked this new perfume.”

Geralt just stares at him, unimpressed.

Jaskier sighs. “I seem to have come down with the tiniest case of stage fright.”

“Stage fright?” Geralt arches an eyebrow. “But you perform all the time.”

“Not at places like this.” Jaskier waves his hand in the direction of the stage.

“You just told me in detail about all seven times you performed here before. You said you won five times.”

“And it would have been all seven, if Valdo Marx weren’t a cad and a cheat.” Jaskier puffs up in remembered outrage. “But that was the Student Bardic Festival. Everyone expects the acts there to be a little bit shit. Melitele help them, but my classmates didn’t give me much of a run for their money, save for Valdo and Essi. This is the first time I’ve performed in a professional competition.”

“And that’s why you’re nervous.”

“Yes!” Jaskier throws up his hands in exasperation. “I know this isn’t a wyvern or an angry mob, but I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of thousands of people!”

Geralt gets an expression on his face like he’s valiantly refraining from pointing out that Jaskier doesn’t normally care about making a fool of himself. “You perform all the time.”

“For drunks in taverns who won’t notice if I make a bunk of the pronunciation of an elven ballad or courtiers who wouldn’t know a wrong note if it hit them in the face. Many of these people are trained musicians themselves who have come from all over the Continent to be here today. I have to be perfect.”

“Then be perfect.”

“Geralt.” Jaskier moans and slaps his hands over his eyes. “Have you ever heard of Elsa Svensen?”

“You know I haven’t.”

“Of course you haven’t! She was a cautionary tale when I was at Oxenfurt, a rising star in the bardic circuit until she tried to sing The Six Swans at the Lan Exeter Bardic Festival.” At the blank look on his witcher’s face, Jaskier elaborates. “It’s a famously difficult ballad in Elder. Very long, lots of tricky notes. She butchered it so badly that she was laughed off stage! Suffice to say, there was an unfortunate mispronunciation and she sang a line about the hero committing unspeakable acts with a donkey in front of the entirety of Lan Exeter, including the king and queen. It ended her career. Rumor has it that she changed her name and is now working as a traveling player.”

Geralt doesn’t look suitably horrified, in Jaskier’s opinion.

“A traveling player, Geralt!” Jaskier practically shrieks, which isn’t good for his voice, but he can’t stop himself. “I can’t act! There isn’t a single troupe of traveling players that would have me. I’ll starve. Gods, I should never have let Essi talk me into this. I’m too young to live in disgrace. Can you go out there and tell them that a horrible tragedy has befallen me and an evil witch has stolen my voice? Ooh, yes, say I’ve ruined her for all other men and this is my punishment. Do you think we can find an actual witch in—”

He doesn’t realize Geralt is approaching him until the witcher presses a brief kiss to his lips.

Jaskier blinks, surprised. Geralt isn’t one for displays of affection where anyone else might see. “What are you—”

Geralt kisses him again. Jaskier can feel the curl of his lips.

“Geralt, this is—”

Another kiss, this one accompanied by Geralt nipping at his lower lip.

“Geralt,” Jaskier says through another kiss. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Trying to shut you up.”

“How dare—”

Geralt kisses him again. “You were working yourself up.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to protest, then realizes he was just plotting to find an actual witch to steal his voice in order to get out of a performance. Perhaps Geralt has a point. “Right.”

“You know Elder too well to accidentally sing about donkeys. And if you do manage to fuck up so badly that you ruin your career, I won’t let you starve.”

Jaskier melts into him. “Geralt, that’s the sweetest—”

“Because you’re right, you’d be a shit traveling player.” Geralt’s lips quirk.

“You—”

Geralt kisses him again, slow and sweet, and Jaskier feels the last bit of tension drain out of him.

“Jaskier the Bard!” a woman’s voice calls from the stage. “Also known as the Dandelion!”

“That’s you.” Geralt pushes him towards the stage. “You’ll do great, Jask.”

Jaskier can’t help but smile at him. “How can I not, after a sweet pep talk like that?”

“Hm. Probably not as great as Valdo Marx did earlier.” A full-on smile spreads over Geralt’s face at Jaskier’s outrage. “But we’ll see.”

And just for that, Jaskier gives the best damn performance of his life. Which is probably what Geralt intended, the terrible man.

***

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

Kiss prompts

[discordiansamba]

lee wakes up one morning and feels fantastic.

there's a spring to his step as he goes through his morning routine. his breakfast tastes even better than usual- it's like the rich, earthy taste of the miso soup has somehow become even more to his taste. he gets dressed in his favorite clothes- a deep, forest green robe that's also comfortable and easy to move in. he braids his hair, tying it off with a green ribbon and looks at himself in the mirror. his bangs are almost long enough now that they completely hide his scar.

he's lee.

it's an odd thought. of course he's lee. who else would he be? he doesn't dwell on it- nor does he dwell on the marked absence of the vague sense of dread that's plagued him ever since he'd served tea to princess azula. it's gone, a bone deep sense of contentment in its place. his life in ba sing se is simple, but it's a happy one- especially now that the fire nation is gone and things are going back to normal.

his good mood must be more obvious than he thinks, because everyone at the lotus blossom seems to notice. the owner asks him about it, and lee just shrugs. he doesn't really know, exactly- he'd just woken up this morning in a great mood. maybe he's just finally gotten used to his life here in the middle ring?

jin sees it too, when she visits on her lunch break. she can't always make her way over to the lotus blossom- the flower shop she works for is a good distance away from his tea shop- but she tries to make it whenever she can. he smiles at her, and some tiny part of his mind notes that it feels more natural than ever.

they kiss before she leaves, and the regulars and his coworkers alike tease them both. lee flushes and stares down at his feet, but he's not unhappy about it. the teasing used to make him feel a little testy, but it doesn't anymore. he knows they only do it because they earnestly want them both to be happy.

his father notices his good mood too.

"i don't know," lee shrugs, "-i just woke up this morning and felt like... me, i guess."

he laughs, because it sounds weird when he says it out loud- but his father only thoughtfully strokes his beard. he tells him that he's proud of him, and lee beams- he's not sure what he's done to earn his father's praise, but he certainly doesn't mind it. he feels... free, he thinks. like he's been trapped in a nightmare, and he's finally woken up.

(he doesn't black out that night.)

when he wakes up the next morning, he feels... settled. his father is up early, so he tries to explain it to him- and probably fails. he thinks moving to the middle ring has really been good for him. there was always something missing to his life in the lower ring, but he thinks... he thinks he can live the rest of his life happily here.

today's his day off. he has a date with jin. they arrange to meet at his favorite theater. they're running a new production- the valiant tale of how avatar aang defeated fire lord ozai, and how his companions put an end to the fire nation's planned airship assault. lee and jin watch as general iroh defeats princess azula in an agni kai, and ascends to the throne of fire lord- and declares an end to the war.

(lee doesn't twitch, even once.)

the theater goes up in cheers when the white lotus retake ba sing se- but the cheers are even louder when fire lord ozai falls, his bending taken. lee and jin are right there with them, and eagerly spend dinner chatting about the play. the adventures of the avatar and his friends sound so exciting- so distant from their simple life. lee briefly wonders what it would be like to travel, but then laughs the idea off.

ba sing se is his home. why would he ever want to leave it?

[sitp-recs]

15 21 fics where Draco takes care of Harry

Happy Weekend folks! The last reclist for this self-indulgent HBD Harry celebration week brings the trope we all love and deserve: Harry being taken care of! Let 👏🏻 that 👏🏻 boy 👏🏻 be happy! I’m really soft for this trope because it delivers delicious character development and emotional payoff. Harry deserves all the nice things and I love seeing Draco willing to provide it, whether in the form of physical comfort, protection, shelter, medical care or just good old diq. I wanted to follow the previous lists format but ended up with 20 fics which means I left a bunch out (my first draft had around 30 🤡). As usual I tried to include both classics and hidden gems, and especially some that aren’t in the other lists. Enjoy!

Ceremonials by @jackvbriefs (NR, 4k)

“What are you doing here?” Harry said. This Malfoy blinked up at him, then lifted the bottle of tequila. “I’m teaching you how to make a drink.”

Is This Love? By @phdmama (E, 4k)

Draco wouldn’t call himself a tender man. He fights the forces of evil for a living, trying his best to pay penance for the evil he’s done. He’s fought and killed in the name of duty, and when he’s not on duty, he tends either to play hard or retreat alone. He doesn’t lean on anyone, and he knows he’s not the first person anyone goes to when they need care. Comfort. That all changes tonight.

It Never Occurred to Me That I Would Fall in Love With a Frenchman by lamerezouille (T, 6k)

Harry kisses Draco in a public place. All hell breaks loose.

Unseen by astolat (M, 11k)

When he wasn’t wearing it, he got jumpy, always waiting for someone to come at him wanting something—and now they did it even more urgently, if they ever saw him, because most of the time, nobody did.

Nice Things by aideomai (M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Lusimeles by spqr (E, 23k)

“You’re not special, Potter,” Kingsley informs him, not looking up from his work. “But I’ve already done Occlumency training!” Harry splutters, indignant. “And it’s Malfoy.”

just tell me when it’s alright by M0stlyVoid (E, 23k)

Harry’s been fighting tooth and nail for any bit of normalcy he can get his hands on. He’s sick of feeling like something’s wrong with him, tired of feeling different. He thinks he’s finally gotten to the root of it, and has settled into a routine that makes him happy. Naturally, that’s when Draco Malfoy walks back into his life and upends it once again. Has Harry bitten off more than he can chew with his former rival?

The Green Vial by @eidheann (E, 31k)

After months of seeing Harry Potter walk into his Apothecary disappointed and hopeless, Draco offers to carry the baby that Harry can't. Now he's just got to hide the fact that he's been half in love with Harry for years.

Expecto Patronum by @writcraft (E, 35k)

Harry Potter is the most sought after celebrity in wizarding Britain. His every movement is scrutinised, his relationships questioned and his photographs plastered over every paper. Harry's used to everyone thinking he’s a hero and has had plenty of time to learn how to keep his biggest secrets hidden from the press. As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

(Un)wanted by @aibidil (E, 36k)

Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.

Breathe In (and Feel No Hurt) by Constance1 (T, 38k)

A tale of love, loss, and of finding hope again. Or the story of how Draco turned into a house-cat in order to secretly bother a depressed Harry Potter until he was no longer feeling sorry for himself.

Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (E, 50k)

When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence. Draco starts to worry, and then he starts to care, and then... horribly... he starts to fall in love.

Sweeten to Taste by @saintgarbanzo and @babooshkart (E, 51k)

It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more.

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature…

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (M, 100k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 300k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

[gwuncan-exhibit]

Happy Last Day of Gwunctober Everyone!!! 🤗🎃💚💙

So I was going to post a One-Shot today to celebrate this last day, but unfortunately, I just haven’t been having the energy lately to write anything. I still really want to give you all something to read though, especially with the closure of this shipping week here, so instead, I’ve decided that I wanted to share what the idea was going to be for my story! I wish that this was something longer and more well-polished, but I hope that it’s something you all still like regardless! 🙏🏼❣️

Also!! @midnight-blue-goth made me this wonderful edit above, which was going to be the cover for this tale, so shout out to her! Thank you again for making me this, I really appreciate you! 🫶🏼

Well, alright, without further ado, here’s what the concept for this fic was going to be like!

The story was going to be titled “The Night They Knew” and it was going to begin in between the events of Action and World Tour, where during the contestant’s breaks in between the two seasons, Duncan is shown to have stayed very close in the tabloids, especially with his publicized relationship with Courtney.

The two have become the big It Couple from Total Drama, garnering several attention from the media and fans of them alike, however, as the months roll by, Duncan quickly starts to lose interest in the fame life and even begins to feel a drift starting to form between him and Courtney’s dynamic.

After all the back and forth throughout Action, their energy eventually starts to take a toll on Duncan’s mind as he begins to feel consistently tired from their usual bickering and senses change growing in the air between the two of them. He just doesn’t know how to handle these feelings that he has inside, in fact, he’s kept his thoughts bottled up for not even a single soul to find out. But he soon comes to a realization that he just can’t continue to keep these concerns locked up anymore as it’s greatly causing him a lot of mental stress.

He still loves Courtney and would wish for things to all work out in the end, but also doesn’t feel like the path that they’re on is somewhere that he should be on anymore.

One night, as he’s gathering up his thoughts about everything, he decides to call up his best friend, Gwen, for a fun time out to escape his personal thoughts for one sleep less. Him and Gwen have stayed very close since the end of Action and try to hangout with one another for as much as they can since after the show, they’ve gotten a lot busier schedules. Gwen agrees to hangout with Duncan and invites him over to her place for some late night horror movies to binge and some delicious snacks to munch on. Duncan feels like that simple idea was a good one for the two and also suggests some beer for them to have as well.

While viewing the scary flicks together, Duncan tries to enjoy his time that he has with Gwen, but still feels that pain that was inside his heart, that feeling that something wasn’t quite right in his life. As he’s on his high from the beers he chugged, Duncan sees that even with the substance, he just can’t escape those thoughts for even a moment. In fact, ironically, it only makes him begin to overthink more as he feels that him and Courtney’s relationship is truly coming to its inevitable end.

Duncan begins to zone out from the TV screen and just drifts away from where he’s physically at, staying firmly in his own mind and unable to break away from it. Gwen catches Duncan’s blank expression and asks him what his problem was, playing off his tone as humorous, before soon finding out with his snappish responses back to her that he wasn’t joking around with her after all.

When Duncan takes it a step too far and raises his voice at Gwen, shouting at her to just leave him alone and insisting that he was fine, Gwen snaps back at him and calls him out, stating that he was not about to disrespect her in her own household, especially with her family sound asleep from across the hall. She even instructs him to get out of her house if he was going to continue with the attitude that he was displaying.

Duncan chokes up and stops Gwen, instantly apologizing to her, and realizes that he can no longer hide from himself anymore, immediately beginning to break down into tears and letting out all of what he had hidden deep inside his heart.

Gwen stares at Duncan in shock as she had never seen him cry before and sees that there indeed was more going on with him, realizing that there was more to why Duncan had wanted to hangout with her this night. She turns off the TV and puts her full attention on her best friend, who’s continuing to sob all out in front of her.

Once Duncan’s finally able to speak back up to her, he confesses to Gwen that things with him actually aren’t going well and that he feels miserable and lonely in his personal life, stating that he realized he really hates the celebrity lifestyle and all that comes with it. He also admits that he’s fearing of becoming broke soon since Courtney is preparing to file another lawsuit against him over their pet raccoon, Brittany, and he still has to look to find a lawyer for himself. And speaking of Courtney, lastly, he’s afraid that this is indeed the end for the two of them’s relationship.

He explains to Gwen that they’ve been headed nowhere but down since Action and it’s felt more like a chore to keep them together than anything and one that he’s beginning to feel isn’t worth the work to keep up with. He mentions all their arguing, all their drama, all their fighting that the two have been dealing with, the combination of it all was just finally starting to get to him, making him feel complete misery that he had gotten to this point in his life now.

Gwen listens closely to his every word, but unfortunately could only offer Duncan her shoulder to cry on as him and Courtney’s situation was something that only him could sort out, but still tried to console him the best that she could.

Duncan and Courtney’s relationship even begins to remind Gwen of the colossal mess that was her and Trent’s relationship that fell apart from the previous season of Total Drama. She brings it up as a joke, but Duncan legitimately catches the similarities between them, noticing how he and Gwen both had messy, reality TV show relationships, and asks her for any advice on him and Courtney’s situation.

Gwen collects her thoughts and begins to vent to Duncan about how all of that drama made her feel and what she took away from her and Trent’s story, what she learned and what decisions could’ve been made to avoid the problems that had occurred then. She hated to see Duncan also going through a complicated relationship and advises that he should really try communicating to Courtney about where the two of them are at as a couple and find some common ground again, even if it would be hard to get there.

As they continue to talk to one another, Duncan eventually gets to a calm state of mind again and is finally able to take a deep breath and put on a real smile in front of Gwen. Though their talk didn’t automatically fix everything, Duncan knew that it just felt good to be able to let out something incredibly personal like that to someone. He felt a big sense of relief coming from off his chest and liked how he felt heard when he shared his thoughts to Gwen.

He always liked how honest Gwen could be, but still assumed that some sarcastic judgement would be coming off from her when he discussed feelings that were more vulnerable to her, but that wasn’t the response he got from her at all.

As their time together came to a close, Duncan and Gwen both gave each other their goodbyes for the night and departed ways, leaving off knowing a little bit more about the other person than earlier in the day.

Duncan got to see Gwen as a little bit more than just as someone he could have a fun time with, but rather as someone he could also freely open up to and not have to worry about being judged for how he felt.

Gwen also got to see Duncan as someone she could not only joke around with, but as well as someone she could be her authentic self around and not having to worry about being outwardly judged for her decision making.

This night was very special to both Duncan and Gwen because it felt like they got to see the complete versions of each other and not just the simplified ones that they were so used to. They left this hangout feeling much different about each other than they had felt prior…maybe even a little something deeper than they realized.

As Gwen was cleaning up her room and getting ready for bed, she kept thinking about how much Duncan really cared for Courtney and how their situation together made him really feel. He got pretty emotional tonight and though he did have some liquor to drink, she noticed that his feelings still came from an earnest place and it wasn’t performative.

Seeing that concern in him for something like his romantic relationship was something that Gwen started to think was kind of endearing, how much he really cared for the people that he loved the most. She didn’t really get a sense of that before from him. Gwen tried to shrug that feeling away of growing admiration, but this new perspective on Duncan did start to make her question her views on him in a positive way. Throughout the next couple of months, she increasingly began to feel a genuine attraction to Duncan that she couldn’t help but feel just a little bit guilty about having.

Duncan, meanwhile, managed to have that talk he wanted to have with Courtney and was able to keep things afloat for a bit longer…but unfortunately, their common cycle quickly went back to repeating itself. Despite their best efforts, it was clear to Duncan that he and Courtney really were heading to their grand ending.

For the following months, Duncan and Gwen continued to remain very close with one another and additionally started to hang out more as they were paying extra attention to making sure that they were able to fit each other in that extra space of their lives.

With each new day together, Duncan started to feel more comfortable around Gwen than he even felt with Courtney and as time went by, he noticed how his heart began to feel a little differently around his best friend. There was some extra warmth that he felt around Gwen and eventually, that feeling began to stick around, developing a confusion for Duncan as he was still together with Courtney, trying to save anything left that could be built around with her, but also realizing that he had growing feelings for Gwen.

And by the time that all three of them were amongst the selected individuals to compete in Total Drama World Tour, Gwen and Duncan had by that time realized that there was definitely something romantic after all between them. Something that was much more deeper than what was already established beforehand.