#however I DO think you can make an excellent story about the two and their dynamic without Shiva taking a traditional ‘caring’ mother role-

[batboopp]

as much as I love batgirl 2024, I have to admit the lack of Barbara Gordon mentions in the whole series so far, especially with the first arc having such a big theme of motherhood/daughterhood and the things that comes with it, makes me soo sad. Barbara was the first person Cass actually considered as a mother! Barbara, although she wasn’t the best at it at first, truly did try to understand and love Cass unconditionally even when she was separated from the Bat mantle! And that panel where Cass overhears Barbara tell Dick that she doesn’t know how to really care for Cass could’ve been the perfect parallel to the whole “is a Mother just being connected by blood? No, Something more is owed/Being a daughter is more than being connected by blood” lines that Cass says in the last (current) issue because Barbara, though she did not physically bring Cass into this world, has sacrificed SO much for her, and in return Cass gave so much back.

[angel-sweets666]

stuck together

Barbarian bakugo x princess! Reader

Your parents arranged you to the brash and rude prince of the barbarians to save their own skin. CHAPTER TWO HERE

warnings and stuff inside of the story: talks of virginity, talks of a virginity check (its accurate to the time period ok?) a/n should I make this a series? I think it’d be fun but idk ur rich btw so just like there’s rich stuff.

THE FULL VERSION IS OUTTT, truely ask and you shall receive. Anyways this is the full edited and lengthened part one I hope it’s better then the sneak peak I gave you guys

AGED UP

Mitsuki leaned back, her piercing gaze fixed on your parents. "So, what do you say? You give us your daughter, and we'll form an alliance," she proposed, pausing for their response. "It would offer protection from the Todoroki kingdom Flamoria, no?" The blonde woman smiled at your father, trying to sway him.

Flamoria had a habit of attacking your home kingdom, however in recent years the bakugos have managed to not only defeat the todorokis but make their kingdom subservient to them.

Your mother hesitated. "I mean, I dunno…"

"We'll do it," he interrupted, cutting off your mother.

"Huh?!" Your mother turned to him, shock evident on her face.

"Perfect. Sign here," Mitsuki said smoothly, handing them a piece of paper which already had both mitsuki and masarus names written down. It was a betrothal agreement, arranging the marriage between you and her hot-tempered son, Bakugo.

Your father reached for the pen, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. "This will secure our safety and ensure a powerful ally," he murmured, almost convincing himself as much as anyone else.

"But our daughter…" your mother started, her voice filled with concern and disbelief. She looked at Mitsuki, then back at your father, torn between the political necessity and the love for her child.

"We don't have a choice," your father replied firmly, signing the paper. "This alliance is crucial for our kingdom's survival. The Empyrean empire is strong.”

Mitsuki's smile widened as she took the signed document. "Excellent. You won't regret this. Bakugo will make a fine husband, many heirs will come from this, she is a virgin right?” The blonde asks “we can get her checked for it, *name* was very sheltered growing up so we can assure you she’s a virgin.” Your father explains, leaning back in his own squeaky wooden chair. His gaze turns to your mother, who seems distraught about marrying off her child to the barbarian prince. Someone famous for being a violent person.

at 17 years old bakugo had brought back the head of a powerful tribe leader and put it on a stick for everyone to see, at 18 years old he had gathered a small army of men and defeated the midoriya kingdom and had a bloody cloak from the one of the dead soilders to prove it. Then at 20 years old bakugo had forced izuku, the Feywood king to surrender his crown. Which put feywood in the empyrean empire. No one knows where izuku midoriya currently is, all the people know is that he was last scene getting dragged by his green locks by bakugo and was never seen again.

Later on

“YOU ARRANGED ME TO WHO!?” You screamed, staring at your parents in complete horror. How could they do this to you? You make one wrong move and your own husband would order your death! “Look it’s not so bad..” “NOT SO BAD? HES KILLED HUNDREDS! THOUSANDS EVEN” “He won’t kill you though!” Your father exclaimed, An attempt to calm you. “Look, bakugo may seem like a man killing war machine of a prince but his parents assured us that he’s very gentle with women.” You scoffed, leaning your weight to one hip “bullshit. He’s gonna kill me. Brutally, he’s gonna hack off my head just you watch”

Over the next few weeks, you tried everything to call off the arrangement. You attempted to run away before the virginity check, faked illness, and came up elaborate excuses. Nothing seemed to work. Your parents were stubborn, insisting that you marry Katsuki Bakugo for the strength of their own kingdom.

Lying in bed, you tossed and turned, unable to escape the looming dread of marrying the great, scary barbarian prince, soon to be barbarian king. What if he rips your head off just because you refuse to give him a kiss? The thought made your heart race with fear.

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. A maid entered, her eyes gloomy with pity . "Your Highness? Tomorrow we will wake you early to help you begin packing for the travel to the Empyrean Kingdom," she said softly, her voice trembling as she tried to avoid any kind of trouble.

You groaned and turned your head toward her. "When am I being sent to them?" you asked

"U-uh, most likely the day after tomorrow," the maid stammered, clearly uneasy with your distress.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your impending fate settle even heavier on your shoulders. "I see… thank you," you muttered.

You looked back at the red headed maid “How far is the journey?” You asked her softly, she fidgeted with her fingers “a-about two days, they live f-far from our kingdom your highness” she stammered. You smiled to the red head and dismissed her.

As she left you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. The thought of being married off to someone you had never met, someone with a terrifying reputation, filled you with a sense of dread and hopelessness. Your parents decision felt like a betrayal, a sacrifice of your happiness for the supposed greater good of the kingdom

You stood in the corner of your large room, watching as numerous servants took gowns, corsets, shoes, and other clothing items, placing them into bags. "U-uh, don’t barbarians wear less formal clothes? Shouldn’t I bring less?" you asked the maids. All of them turned to look at you, a hint of surprise on their faces.

"Her Highness makes a point," the same red-headed maid from the night before whispered to an older maid. The older maid, seemingly more experienced, turned toward you with a thoughtful expression.

"You're right, Your Royal Highness. They would probably end up burning these clothes or turning them into barbarian-styled garments," she conceded.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in resignation. "What do barbarian women wear?" you asked the older maid, hoping for some clarity.

"Hm… flowy skirts, I’ve seen a few wear headdresses," she replied, as some of the gowns were hung back up in the closet. The maids began to sift through your belongings, selecting items that might be more appropriate for your new life.

As you watched the process, you couldn’t help but glance out the window. Your mother and father were walking in the garden, deep in conversation. They seemed so in love, so perfectly matched, yet they were throwing you into a marriage that promised nothing but misery. The contrast between their happiness and your dread was almost unbearable.

"Your Highness, we’ll pack lighter, more practical clothing for your journey," the older maid reassured.

"Thank you," you murmured, though your heart wasn't in it. The thought of being dressed in unfamiliar clothes, adapting to an unknown culture, and being wed to a man you feared only added to your anxiety.

As the servants continued their work, you wandered over to your bed, sinking down onto the edge. The weight of your impending departure pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You had grown up surrounded by luxury and love, and now you were being sent away, to marry probably the most violent man you’ve ever heard of

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about the future that awaited you. Would you ever find happiness in the Empyrean Kingdom? Would Katsuki Bakugo, the fierce and terrifying prince, ever come to care for you, or would you be nothing more than a means to an end?

"Your Highness, is there anything else you would like us to pack?" one of the younger maids asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, wiping away a stray tear. "No, just… make sure to leave out a few comfortable things for me to wear until we leave."

"Of course, Your Highness," she replied, her expression sympathetic.

As the maids continued their preparations, you lay back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You tried to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, knowing that soon you would be leaving them behind.

"So, what's the barbarian kingdom like?" you asked, looking over to the maids. The older maid once again turned her head to look at you.

"Most of the people live in either big wooden houses with all sorts of weapons around or in these hut-like tent things. Either way, they have all these symbols painted on them," she described, clearly having been to the Empyrean Kingdom before.

"And what about the Bakugos? Where do they live? You asked

"They live in a stone castle with intricate paintings on it, and there's a lot of security. The last time I was there, they had spikes on the bridge leading to the castle, with people's heads mounted on them," the old maid replied,

"How long ago were you there?" you asked, feeling a chill run down your spine at the gruesome detail.

"When the young prince was about fifteen, so around five years ago," she said, placing one last corset into a bag.

You glanced at the six bags of items packed for your journey, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. It was a smaller amount than you had anticipated, yet it seemed to signify the end of one life and the beginning of another.

"Did you meet the prince?" you asked, trying to glean any information that might help you understand the man you were to marry.

"Briefly," she replied, her expression softening. "He was intense, even as a teenager. Always training, always pushing himself. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a loneliness."

You sighed, trying to reconcile the image of the fierce, terrifying prince with the glimpses of vulnerability the maid described. "And the people there? How are they?"

"Fierce, proud, and loyal," the older maid said. "They value strength above all else, but they also have a deep sense of honor and community. If you earn their respect, they'll defend you with their lives."

The more you learned, the more daunting your future seemed. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing that the barbarian kingdom, despite its harsh exterior, had its own codes and values.

As the maids continued their work, you tried to imagine what life in the Empyrean Kingdom would be like

"Is there anything else I should know?" you asked, your voice softer, almost hesitant.

The older maid paused, considering your question. "Just remember, Your Highness, that if you respect them and they’ll respect you."

Her words resonated with you, giving you a small but vital sense of empowerment. You nodded “alright, seems easy enough..”

The day that you needed to travel to the empyrean kingdom came, your parents watched you walk to the carriage by the gate as your mother sobbed into your fathers chest.

The ride to the Empyrean Kingdom was grueling. As the carriage rattled over uneven roads, you gazed out the window, the lush greenery of your homeland gradually giving way to the rugged, bushy but covered in tall trees landscape of the barbarian territory. The closer you got, the more your anxiety grew, each kilometre bringing you closer to the empyrean land

When you finally arrived at the castle, you were struck by its threatening look. The stone walls were decorated with weird red painted symbols, and the spiked bridge, as described by the maid, loomed menacingly ahead. Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the carriage, taking in the harsh surroundings.

A group of stern-faced and very attractive guards escorted you inside. The castle's interior was as intimidating as its exterior—dimly lit, with weapons and trophies of past battles displayed prominently on the walls. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you were led through the cold halls. You swore that if you listened close enough you could hear peoples screams in the dungeons below. Fuck was this hell with its 7 rings?

Finally, you were brought to a large chamber where a tall, muscular figure stood with his back to you. His spiky blonde hair was unmistakable. He was busy looking at a sheet of paper, the one oddly similar to the ones your parents shown you when they first announced your betrothal to bakugo. As he slowly turned to face you, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. He looked almost angry at you, furious even. Which was confusing because you’ve known this man for a whole 10 seconds

he was tall and about 6ft with messy blonde hair, scars all over his body and face, and piercings on his ears and lip.

"So, you're the princess they sent," Katsuki said, his voice dripping with disdain. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression one of barely concealed annoyance. Katsuki had a deep voice that you couldn’t tell if you found attractive or if you wanted to run away and hide.

You straightened your back, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as you could muster. "I am," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady but it ended up sounding shaky.

Bakugo scoffed, looking you up and down as if to check if you were just a weak small baby or strong enough to be a wife and a queen “Great. Another weakling to babysit," he muttered under his breath.

Anger formed within you at his dismissive attitude. "I am not a weakling," you snapped. "And I am certainly not here to be babysat."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see about that," he said, turning away from you. "Follow me. There's no point in wasting time."

You clenched your fists, biting back a come back to insult him with as you followed him through the castle. Every step echoed in the vast, cold corridors. His steps much louder then yours due to his much larger frame

Bakugo led you to a large hall where a group of people—presumably his advisors and some of the castle staff—were gathered. He introduced you curtly, barely sparing you a glance as he did so. The looks you received ranged from curiosity to outright hostility, they clearly didn’t want you here. Just like the old maid back had home had warned, these people hated the weak.

After the introductions, Bakugo dismissed everyone, including you. "You'll be shown to your chambers. Don't get in my way or else," he said, theblonde clearly trying to end the conversation between you two before he could get sucked into some conversation he didn’t waht

You followed a servant to your chambers, a mix of anger and sadness within you. The room was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the castle, but it did little to lift your spirits. You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of your new reality settle over you.

Over the next few days, you tried to find your place in the castle. The people were distant and wary, their lack of trust clear in their every interaction with you. And Bakugo… he was even worse than most . He ignored you most of the time, and when he did speak to you, it was with a cold, dismissive tone that made your blood boil. He always had a tone of sass, trying to get under your skin constantly.

as the days grew closer and closer to your wedding date he seemed to just get more and more annoying, constantly having some tone of sass. Never wanting to talk to you and constantly flirting with your maids, you even went the effort to fire atleast 4 of them to keep their grotty hands to themselves.

“you done firing my staff now?” Bakugo grumbled as he caught up with you in the stone candle lit halls “your staff? You mean my staff? My staff who you seem to love flirting with” you corrected him, looking over your shoulder at him. The blonde furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed “I pay for them there for their my staff.” He growled, asking faster in an attempt to intimate you “actually, your parents pay for the staff.” “Hah?” “Your parent pay for the staff so their not your staff, their the palaces staff.” You said ignorantly as you played with the lace of your dress. “You gonna get out of that frill fest you call a gown?” He asked, again trying to insult you “if I do I’m gonna shove it up your ass” “excuse me?”

“Want me to say it slower? I—WILL—SHOVE—MY—GOW”

“OKAY OKAY SHUT UP WOMAN” he growled at you and walked off in spite “THATS WHAT WHAT I THOUGHT. THATS WHAT I THOUGHT.” You angrily yelled back to him, which in real aspect you were yelling at the back of his ignorant head. You huffed and stormed away in the opposite direction as you wanted nothing more then to get away from that man. As you stomped down the halls, footsteps echoing with each step; you heard a male voice call out to you

“Princess.”

you looked over, a certain brown haired man similar looking to katsuki stared back at you. It was king Masaru “I was looking for you” he says, walking towards you. You quickly curtsied to the king “About what?” You asked “we have a wedding date for you and my son” he smiled warmly as if this was a good thing “o-oh.. and when may that be..?” Your eyebrows furrowed with frustration “a month from now, they will date you to get your gown fitted this week” he seemed overly happy about something neither you or his temperamental son wanted.

“Will I wear a wedding dress from my country or your country?” You asked softly, trying to keep your cool “uh.. our country.” He informed you “I’d rather wear my own wedding gown though, your majesty” “well.. you belong to our kingdom now. We can give you a dress that’s a mix of the two if you’d rather” he compromised, trying to keep with both your and his kingdom. Letting out a sigh your shoulders dropped “I suppose that be okay…” a look of mild disappointment on your face “wonderful, I’m glad we could come to a compromise” he smiled and walked off, an electric blonde guard following close behind him who you earlier learned his name was kaminari. The blonde goofily smiled to you, he seemed like a character. The two men walked off as they chatted, rolling your eyes you too began to walk in the direction of your bedroom chambers.

you couldn’t sleep that night, you tried changing your nightgown, exercising, reading a book, meditating, everything! nothing would help you sleep this night, you wondered if it was the weird interaction with king Masaru or the fact your own fiance was when you think about it was cheating on you with your own staff members. you slowly slid out of bed and out of your silk sheets, rubbing your face up and down with your hands with frustration. Looking down at your feet you sighed, looking out of the window. the night sky was so peaceful unlike your mind which was running with less the pleasant thoughts. How could you get Katsuki to like you? or at least tolerate you in some way so he wouldn't be the most annoying little shit.

The creak of the door hinges squeaks as you pushed the heavy wooden door open, wincing at the high pitch noise. Slowly but quietly gou walked towards the chambers of your future husband. As you approached the door you hear two voices come from the inside

“you’ll need to learn to cherish and care for her eventually”

“why would I do that?” “She is your fiancé! Your future wife! Future mother of your heirs!”

“you except me to fuck her too? Shit.”

“Yes obviously! Your gonna need heirs for our kingdom!”

“fine. Before or after this whole wedding?”

“well In her kingdom, you two do that on the wedding night but to be honest I don’t really care when you do her”

“Too easy”

safe to say your whole face was pink, with either anger or arousal but you couldn’t tell

Tag list!

@sagejin @teeesthings @hiimsaraandyou

@peachysuguru @luvgumii

@v3n7s @iangeeluv

[deergravity]

Seeing as my internal rewards system has moved on to 'trans fiction' from 'queer horror audio drama podcast' I thought I should do a little roundup of everything I listened to the past few months.

A rough ranking:

Malevolent. Just squeaking into the top spot here based on 1) technical prowess (iykyk) 2) compelling characters and story and 3) they are my blorbos your honor!!! Mind boggling that Harlan Guthrie has so much chemistry with himself.

The Silt Verses. Only topped by Malevolent bc season 1 is not as polished, but it really doesn't matter. Top tier characters, amazing worldbuilding, intricate plotting and it had something to SAY about the casual violence of systems, the nature of hope, the complexity of being human in a world that tries to make us inhuman. Also, it doesn't rely on some thin recording contrivance (a framing device that has its place) and instead truly takes the mantle of audio drama without apology.

The White Vault. On the topic of framing devices, TWV has a very cool take on found footage recordings. A group of [researchers/archeologists] are sent to investigate a remote site in [Svalbard/Patagonia] and the podcast is structured as a documentarian presenting the notes, recordings and diary entries in a reconstructed timeline. My favorite element is that many of the characters don't make their notes in English, so the segments will often open with the VA speaking German, Spanish, Mandarin, Icelandic, Russian, etc etc before fading into the translation. There are miniseries between the seasons available on their patreon and they were so worth the $10 I paid to access them for a month. Reveals are slow, but worthwhile, and the mythology built for the show is highly original and intriguing.

Deviser. A one season contained story from Harlan Guthrie of Malevolent. Scifi, psychological, lots of wet awful body horror. If you're a fan of Harlan wimpering into a mic, you'll love this one.

WOE.BEGONE. Long, ongoing, and so so so far from the original premise it's hilarious, I'm ranking this higher than it maybe deserves for two factors 1) the creator and the VAs are clearly having a blast and 2) it's riding the line of taking itself serious despite a premise that invites irony poisoning without becoming too wrapped up in itself. It's fun, I think, that keeps w.bg strong.

The Magnus Archives. Should this be one up? Probably. But everyone bloody well knows tma by this point, it's good, great even! Beyoncé of horror podcasts.

I Am In Eskew. Only knocked down due to the actually godawful sound quality. Truly unsettling stories though (the one with the building architect haunts me) and a surprisingly realistic conclusion. You can see the bones of The Silt Verses here, from the same creative team.

The Magnus Protocol. Everything above this is there due to originality. As a sequel series, TMAGP will always suffer in that measure. However, I like our new cast and I do love an alternate reality. Curious to see where season 2 takes us. I'd like to kill Mr Bonzo in a fire.

The Inexplicables. Another one season story, this time from Rusty Quill, with really fun, flawed characters and no recording framing device!

Wolf 359. Storywise, great! Characters, excellent! Kicking it way to the bottom bc they just would NOT STOP referencing H***y P****r. Yes, Doug's characterization hangs on excessive reference humor, but that was one well I wish they'd left alone.

Red Valley. Knocked for HP references too (come ON british podcasters, do better) but more importantly for veering WAY WAY WAY WAY WAY too close to real life in season 3 onward. I was here for a horror sci fi story about cryogenics, not to listen to my worst climate disaster fears brought to life via hearing rich old sods try to buy their way out of consequences while the world burns and eco terrorism escalates. Too real. Not bad storytelling, just very much not fulfilling my escapism needs.

It's kinda crazy to me that anytime I mention this genre to normies in my life they say, "oh, like true crime podcasts?" And then I die inside. No dude, like radio drama. Like War of the Worlds.

Anyway, I'm off to get even less relatable by reading a zillion niche trans novels (hello Welcome to Dorley Hall, aka, what if there really was a 'trans cult' force femming dudes to undermine their masculinity? It's amazing how much yarn we can make by subverting the cis gaze.)

[amethystarachnid]

Hey, can I request for you tony stark x f!reader, they work together in the lab and they love each other but never admit, one day reader tell them that she's dating and tony will be so jealous and after some investigation (nothing creepy, just tony being cute and cautious) he'll see that her boyfriend is not a good guy and start to show her that he's the right guy for her (bringing her favorite coffee and flowers, little gifts, things like that) eventually she'll see that he's not good and break up with him, tony will comfort her and they will confess their love and be happy together

ENOUGH

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

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

ᯓ★ Genre: angst and some fluff towards the end

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 13k (I swear it's worth it, this fic means a lot to me)

ᯓ★ Summary: You always had a strange feelings towards Tony, but you were too scared to recognize them because you didn't want to ruin your friendship. As you find yourself falling for another man you think you've found your forever, but your forever isn't supposed to make you feel happy, loved? So why does every interaction with Cole make you feel bad, sad? You feel like you're losing yourself but, luckily, Tony is right there to help you find your way back.

ᯓ★ TW(s): toxic and manipulating relationship (y/n and another guy, not Tony)

ᯓ★ I'm sorry this took so long but I 'used' your ask to write a fic that means a lot to me because I really want to spread awareness about this subject, and I hope you all understand that love is supposed to make you feel happy and secure, nothing bad. <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

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

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The lab is quiet at this hour. Most of the team has called it a night, but you’re still here, engrossed in calibrating a particularly fussy piece of Stark tech. It’s late—late enough that the hallways outside are dark and empty, but you don’t mind. Working in the stillness of the lab, the gentle hum of machines and the cool blue glow of screens, is soothing.

What you do mind, however, is the way Tony keeps glancing over at you, like he’s waiting for you to say something. It’s unnerving, that knowing look of his, like he’s daring you to meet his gaze.

You can’t stand that look. It gets under your skin, tugs at something deep inside you that you refuse to acknowledge, but it never stops. It’s been years of this—working side by side, sharing laughs over takeout boxes in the lab, enduring countless sleepless nights debugging Tony’s latest invention or patching up battle-worn tech. The two of you have always been close, closer than most. And you’ve done an excellent job of pretending that’s all you want.

But there’s something about tonight that feels different. Maybe it’s the way he’s watching you from his desk, his eyes tracing over you in a way that’s just a little too warm, a little too careful. Or maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t said a word for the past ten minutes—an unprecedented stretch of silence, for Tony.

“You’re staring,” you finally mutter, not looking up from your work.

“And you’re pretending not to notice,” he replies, tone light, but there’s an undercurrent to it that makes your heart pick up. “Is that how we’re doing this now?”

You raise an eyebrow, trying for indifference. “Doing what?”

“Working in silence. Not our usual style, is it?”

You shrug, forcing yourself to focus on the small circuit board in front of you instead of the steady heat of his gaze. “It’s late, Tony. And we’ve been at this all day.”

“Right. Right, it’s late,” he says, stretching out the words as he leans back in his chair. You can see his smirk from the corner of your eye. “You, of all people, should be in bed by now. I distinctly remember you threatening to crash at eleven.”

“Guess I changed my mind.”

“Guess I knew you would,” he says, and now he’s leaning forward, arms braced on the desk in that familiar, frustrating way that makes him seem both casual and intensely focused. He’s watching you like he’s studying you, reading every flicker of your expression like it’s one of his schematics.

It’s maddening, and it’s also just a little intoxicating. You try to ignore it.

Instead, you clear your throat and look down at the circuit board again. “So, what’s the deal with this, anyway?” you ask, tapping it lightly. “Doesn’t look like your usual tech.”

Tony hums thoughtfully, rolling his chair closer, until he’s beside you, watching as you work. His proximity feels warmer than it should, his arm brushing yours as he leans over your shoulder, peering down at the board.

“It’s… a prototype for something I’m working on,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, soft rumble. “Something for field ops. You know, keeping our favorite Avengers safe.”

“Right.” You nod, but your fingers tremble slightly as you work, acutely aware of the warmth of his breath on your cheek. “Safety first.”

Tony chuckles, the sound so close it reverberates right through you. “Always,” he murmurs. “Even when certain people in this lab seem determined to work themselves to exhaustion.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the smile that tugs at your lips. “Look who’s talking. When’s the last time you actually slept, Tony?”

“Touché,” he concedes, leaning back slightly but still close enough that you can feel his presence, as constant and undeniable as gravity. “But I’ll have you know, I managed a whole hour of beauty sleep last night.”

“An hour? Impressive. Almost enough to be functional,” you tease, daring to glance up at him.

His smile softens, a small, fond twist of his lips that catches you off guard. There’s a gentleness in his eyes that you’ve seen before, but rarely for this long, and never with you as its sole focus. It’s the kind of look that makes you wonder—no, that makes you hope.

“You know,” he begins, his tone quieter now, almost hesitant, “you don’t have to stay up all night with me. I’ve got this handled.”

You blink, taken aback by the sudden shift in his voice. “What, you’re trying to kick me out now?”

“Not… exactly,” he says, and you swear he looks almost flustered for a split second before he covers it with a wry smile. “Just… you don’t have to be here, that’s all. It’s late, and you could be doing anything else.”

A part of you aches at his words, knowing how easy it would be to walk out, to go back to your quiet apartment and let this night pass like so many others. But the thought of leaving him here, of letting the comfortable silence between you slip away, makes something twist painfully in your chest.

You shake your head, more to yourself than to him. “I know I don’t have to be here, Tony. But… I want to be.”

The air between you shifts, charged with something heavier, something unsaid that has been building for months, maybe even years. His gaze softens, and for a moment, you think you see something flicker there—hope, maybe, or fear. Whatever it is, it leaves you feeling exposed, as if he’s managed to see right through you, right past the walls you’ve so carefully built around yourself.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice rougher now, his eyes searching yours.

You swallow, suddenly feeling like you’re standing on the edge of something that you’re not sure you’re ready to confront. “Yeah,” you reply, voice barely above a whisper. “Besides, you’d probably break this thing if I left you alone with it.”

He laughs softly, and it’s enough to break the tension between you, at least for now. But there’s still a lingering warmth in his gaze, a subtle shift in the way he looks at you that makes your heart hammer in your chest.

“I suppose I should be grateful, then,” he murmurs, his tone just a little too casual, like he’s trying to hide something. “You know… you’re the only one I trust with my projects. With my, uh, less-than-brilliant ideas.”

“Less-than-brilliant?” You arch an eyebrow, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, even though your face feels like it’s on fire. “Is Tony Stark actually admitting that he’s not perfect?”

“Careful,” he warns, but there’s no heat in his words, only a soft amusement that feels almost… tender. “Don’t let it get to your head. I’m only admitting it because it’s you.”

You laugh, the sound half-nervous, half-genuine, and it’s enough to break the tension just a little. You glance back down at the circuit board, taking a steadying breath as you focus on the familiar rhythms of your work.

But out of the corner of your eye, you see him watching you, a soft smile playing at his lips. It’s a look you’ve seen countless times over the years, but now, in the quiet of the empty lab, it feels different. It feels like a promise, like a question he’s too afraid to ask but too stubborn to let go of.

And in that moment, you realize that you’re afraid, too—afraid of the way he looks at you, afraid of the way your heart stutters every time he laughs, every time he brushes against you, every time he gives you that damn smile that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

But more than anything, you’re afraid of what it would mean to say it out loud, to let the words slip past your lips and into the air, to admit that maybe this thing between you is more than friendship.

So, instead, you keep your head down, pretending not to notice the way he leans just a little closer, his shoulder brushing yours in a touch that feels almost intimate, almost deliberate.

And, for now, that’s enough. For now, you’re content to let the silence between you speak the words you’re both too afraid to say.

Tony Stark isn’t jealous. Not really. Jealousy is for guys who don’t have a tower with their name on it, a suit that could blast a hole through anything, and—let’s be honest—a jawline that does all the heavy lifting in the charm department. No, jealousy is beneath him. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself every time he sees you walk into the lab with that soft, distracted smile you’ve been wearing lately.

That’s not a work smile. That’s not even a Tony-just-said-something-obnoxious-but-funny smile. That’s a someone else is putting that smile on your face kind of smile, and Tony hates it.

He doesn’t say anything, though. Not at first. You’re your own person, after all, and if some guy—Cole, his brain spits out bitterly—if Cole makes you happy, then who is Tony Stark to interfere? Besides, you’re glowing these days, more relaxed than he’s seen you in ages. It’s probably just paranoia. His inner demons twisting things into shadows that aren’t really there.

Except Tony Stark is rarely wrong.

It starts as a nagging thought, one he keeps pushing away. He tries to focus on his work, on the new suit he’s been designing, on anything that doesn’t involve picturing you laughing at someone else’s jokes or holding someone else’s hand. But every time Cole comes up in conversation, every time you casually mention something he said or did, Tony feels that tiny itch in the back of his brain grow stronger.

Something doesn’t add up.

“Cole’s great, Tony,” you tell him one night, completely oblivious to the way his jaw tightens when you say the guy’s name. You’re sitting across from him in the lab, fiddling with a new circuit board. “I mean, he’s sweet, and he listens, and—God, I think I might actually be falling for him.”

Tony’s stomach drops. He’s heard you talk about Cole before, but this is different. There’s a softness in your voice, a vulnerability that makes his chest ache. You’re not just infatuated; you’re serious about this guy.

“That’s… great,” he says, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. ���Really. I mean, falling for someone? Huge step. Big deal. Congratulations.”

You glance up at him, frowning slightly. “You don’t sound too thrilled.”

“What? No. Thrilled is my middle name. Anthony Thrilled Stark.” He gestures dramatically with his hands, trying to play it off, but the look you give him is skeptical at best.

“Tony…” Your voice is softer now, concerned. “Is something wrong?”

Wrong? No. Everything’s fine. You’re dating a guy who he’s never met but already hates, and Tony’s spent every spare moment pretending it doesn’t feel like he’s losing you. Nothing wrong with that.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he lies. “I’m just… you know, being overprotective. It’s kind of my thing. But if you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

You give him a small smile, the kind that twists the knife a little deeper, and go back to your work. Tony watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to his own desk, staring blankly at the screen in front of him.

He tells himself to let it go. To trust you, to trust that you know what you’re doing. But the nagging itch in the back of his brain refuses to fade. Something about this guy doesn’t sit right, and Tony Stark didn’t get to where he is by ignoring his instincts.

So he starts digging.

It’s not creepy. Not really. It’s not like he’s hacking into the guy’s emails or anything (although, let’s be honest, he could). He’s just doing a little background research. Running some basic searches, cross-referencing public records, scrolling through social media. All perfectly legal. All perfectly harmless.

At first, there’s nothing. Cole looks clean—a little too clean, actually. No embarrassing Facebook posts from his college days, no bad reviews from ex-girlfriends, not even a speeding ticket. Tony doesn’t trust it. Everyone has skeletons in their closet, and the fact that Cole’s closet seems spotless only makes Tony more suspicious.

Then he finds it. A single thread, barely noticeable, buried in the endless digital clutter. It’s an old forum post, years old, from someone who claims to have dated Cole. The details are vague, but the tone is unmistakable: bitterness, regret, and a warning for anyone who might follow.

Tony narrows his eyes, digging deeper. The more he finds, the worse it gets. Cole’s spotless public image starts to crumble under closer scrutiny. There are patterns—subtle, but there. Former coworkers describing him as manipulative. An ex-girlfriend mentioning how he’d gaslight her during arguments. A series of short-lived jobs, each ending under murky circumstances. Nothing outright damning, but enough to paint a picture Tony doesn’t like.

He sits back in his chair, staring at the screen. His chest feels tight, a mix of anger and something else—fear, maybe. He doesn’t want to be right about this. He doesn’t want to believe that you could fall for someone like that, someone who might hurt you. But the evidence is staring him in the face, and Tony Stark has never been good at ignoring the truth.

The next day, he watches you more closely than usual. You’re in the lab again, humming softly to yourself as you work. There’s a lightness to you that makes his heart ache. He doesn’t want to ruin that, doesn’t want to be the one to bring you down. But he also can’t stand the thought of staying silent.

“Hey,” he says, leaning casually against your desk. “You free tonight?”

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why? Got another groundbreaking invention to show off?”

“Maybe,” he says, smirking. “But actually, I was thinking dinner. My treat. You, me, and a bottle of ridiculously overpriced wine.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “As tempting as that sounds, I already have plans. Cole’s taking me out.”

Of course, he is. Tony’s smirk falters for a fraction of a second before he covers it with a shrug. “Right. Well, rain check, then.”

“Definitely,” you say, flashing him a smile before turning back to your work.

Tony watches you for a moment longer, then turns and heads for his office. He needs a plan—a way to bring this up without sounding like a jealous idiot or an overbearing dad. But as much as he tries to think of the right words, they won’t come.

That night, he paces his workshop, trying to talk himself out of doing something stupid. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe Cole isn’t as bad as he seems. Maybe Tony’s just projecting his own insecurities onto the guy. But then he remembers the forum post, the warnings, the pattern of behavior, and his resolve hardens.

He picks up his phone, hesitating for only a moment before dialing your number. You answer on the second ring, your voice warm and familiar.

“Tony? What’s up?”

“Hey,” he says, trying to sound casual. “You busy?”

“I’m with Cole,” you say, and there’s a note of hesitation in your voice, like you’re not sure why he’s calling. “Why?”

Tony swallows, gripping the phone tighter. “I just… wanted to check in. Make sure you’re okay.”

There’s a pause, and then you laugh softly. “I’m fine, Tony. Really. You don’t have to worry about me.”

But he does. More than he wants to admit. And as he listens to your voice, so full of trust and affection, he knows he can’t keep this to himself for much longer.

“I’ll let you get back to your date,” he says finally, forcing a smile into his voice. “Just… take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” you promise. “Thanks, Tony.”

He hangs up, staring at the phone in his hand. The weight in his chest hasn’t lifted. If anything, it’s heavier now.

Because Tony Stark isn’t jealous. Not really. He’s just terrified of losing you to someone who doesn’t deserve you. And the worst part? He doesn’t know if he can stop it.

You never thought it would feel like this—being with someone, falling for someone. Isn’t it supposed to make you happy? Isn’t it supposed to feel safe?

But with Cole, it’s… complicated.

At first, everything seemed perfect. He was sweet, attentive, always quick with a compliment or a thoughtful gesture. You’d convinced yourself he was everything you could ask for in a partner. And maybe for a little while, he was. But now, months into your relationship, cracks have started to show.

It starts small. The occasional offhand comment that stings more than it should. A subtle shift in tone when you talk about your work in the lab. You brush it off at first, telling yourself you’re imagining things. But then it gets worse.

“Late again,” Cole remarks one evening as you walk through the door, exhaustion tugging at your every step. He’s on the couch, his arms crossed, eyes sharp and unyielding. “How many hours did you spend with Stark today?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and accusing. You swallow hard, setting your bag down by the door. “I wasn’t counting, Cole. You know how it is—we had a lot to get through.”

His lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, with a pointed sigh, he gets up and walks into the kitchen. “Sure,” he says over his shoulder, the word dripping with bitterness. “Because Tony Stark is the only person in the world who needs your time.”

“Cole…” You trail after him, your voice quiet. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Do I?” He turns to face you, arms braced against the counter. “Because it feels like I’m sharing you with him. And you don’t seem to care.”

The words hit you like a slap. “That’s not fair,” you say, your voice trembling. “Tony’s my friend. We work together. You knew that when we started dating.”

“And maybe that was a mistake,” he snaps, his eyes narrowing. “Because it’s pretty clear where your priorities are.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words don’t come. The guilt that’s been gnawing at you for weeks rises to the surface, sharp and suffocating. You do spend a lot of time in the lab. You do lean on Tony more than you should. Maybe Cole’s right. Maybe you’re the problem.

“I’ll try to do better,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cole’s expression softens, just slightly, and he steps closer, cupping your face in his hands. “That’s all I’m asking, Y/N,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “I just want to feel like I matter to you.”

You nod, forcing a smile even as something inside you twists painfully. “You do. I promise.”

But as the weeks go by, it becomes harder and harder to keep that promise. Cole’s demands grow more insistent, his comments more cutting. You start to dread going home, knowing there’s always another fight waiting for you. And worst of all, you begin to pull back from the one place that’s always felt like home: the lab.

Tony notices, of course. He notices everything.

“Morning, sunshine,” Tony greets you one day, setting a steaming cup of coffee on your desk. “Extra caramel, just the way you like it.”

You look up, startled. “Tony, you didn’t have to—”

“Of course, I did,” he interrupts, flashing you that trademark smirk. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer through the day without caffeine?”

Despite yourself, you smile. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he says, leaning against your desk. “Although, I have to say, you’ve been a little MIA lately. Should I be offended? Or are you just trying to make me miss you?”

You laugh softly, but the sound feels hollow. “Just… busy, I guess.”

Tony’s eyes narrow, and you know he doesn’t buy it. But he doesn’t press. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. “Oh, and I got you this.”

Your brow furrows as you take the box, opening it to reveal a sleek, silver keychain in the shape of a tiny wrench. It’s beautiful, understated but thoughtful, and it makes your chest ache.

“Tony…” Your voice catches. “Why?”

He shrugs, his expression softening. “Saw it and thought of you. That’s all.”

You bite your lip, overwhelmed by the gesture. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

He watches you for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “You deserve it,” he says quietly. “You deserve more than coffee and keychains, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

His words linger long after he’s gone, echoing in your mind as you work. You wish you could tell him everything—about Cole, about the fights, about the way you’ve started to feel like a stranger in your own life. But you can’t. Tony has enough on his plate without dealing with your problems.

So you keep it to yourself, even as the weight of it threatens to crush you.

The gifts keep coming. A bouquet of your favorite flowers on your workbench one morning. A set of noise-canceling headphones to help you focus. Little things that remind you someone cares, even when you feel like you’re drowning.

Cole notices, of course. “What’s with all the stuff?” he asks one evening, eyeing the flowers on your kitchen counter.

“Just Tony being Tony,” you say, trying to sound casual. “He likes spoiling his friends.”

Cole’s jaw tightens. “Friends,” he repeats, his tone sharp. “Right.”

You don’t argue. You don’t have the energy. Instead, you turn away, pretending not to notice the way his expression darkens.

One night, after another fight with Cole leaves you feeling hollow and drained, you find yourself sitting in the lab long after everyone else has gone home. Tony walks in, a takeout bag in one hand and a familiar, comforting smile on his face.

“Figured you’d still be here,” he says, setting the bag down in front of you. “Dinner’s on me.”

You look up at him, tears threatening to spill over, and for the first time, you let yourself lean into his presence. “Thank you,” you whisper.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. He doesn’t push. He just sits beside you, eating in comfortable silence, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe again.

Tony Stark doesn’t say the words. He doesn’t tell you that he thinks you deserve better than Cole, that he thinks you deserve better than him, even. But he doesn’t have to.

In every cup of coffee, every flower, every small act of kindness, he’s telling you that you’re worth more than you’ve been made to believe. And slowly, you begin to believe it too.

For now, it’s enough.

The atmosphere at home feels suffocating these days. The relationship you once cherished with Cole has become a minefield, every step fraught with tension. You’re constantly second-guessing yourself, careful with your words, trying to avoid setting him off. But it never seems to matter. Lately, even your best efforts only seem to fuel the simmering resentment in his eyes.

And Tony’s gifts? They’ve only made things worse.

It starts small, like everything with Cole does. A passing comment, offhanded and laced with sarcasm.

“Another coffee from your friend, huh?” he remarks one morning, his voice just a shade too sharp as he watches you take a sip from the steaming cup Tony had left on your desk.

You force a smile. “It’s just coffee, Cole. Tony’s like that with everyone—he’s generous. You know that.”

His lips twist into a tight smile. “Right. Generous. Just funny how his generosity seems to center around you.”

You bite your tongue, unwilling to let this spiral into another argument. Cole isn’t entirely wrong—Tony has been more attentive lately, but it’s not what Cole thinks. It’s just Tony being Tony, looking out for you the way he always has. There’s nothing wrong with that. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

But Cole doesn’t drop it.

The next time Tony leaves you flowers, Cole’s reaction is colder, sharper.

“Do you think this is normal?” he asks, his voice low and tight as he stares at the bouquet sitting on your kitchen counter. His fingers drum against the edge of the counter, his jaw clenched. “Your boss giving you flowers?”

You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “They’re not romantic, Cole. They’re just… thoughtful. Tony knows I’ve been stressed lately, that’s all.”

“Yeah?” He steps closer, his eyes narrowing. “And what’s he doing to help with that stress, huh? Bringing you coffee? Flowers? What’s next, jewelry?”

The accusation in his tone stings, and you feel your patience slipping. “Cole, you’re reading way too much into this. Tony and I are friends—nothing more. I shouldn’t have to explain that to you.”

“Maybe you should,” he snaps, his voice rising. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.”

You flinch at the harshness in his tone, the knot of guilt and frustration tightening in your chest. “This isn’t fair,” you say quietly. “I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me.”

Cole scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s not you I don’t trust, Y/N. It’s him. Guys like Stark don’t just do things out of the kindness of their hearts. There’s always an angle.”

You want to argue, to defend Tony, but you know it’ll only make things worse. So you say nothing, letting the silence stretch between you like a chasm.

The next day, you try to keep your distance in the lab. Tony notices immediately.

“Okay, what’s up?” he asks, leaning casually against your desk as you work. His tone is light, but his eyes are sharp, searching. “You’ve been weird all morning. Did I do something? Forget your birthday? Make a terrible pun that offended your delicate sensibilities?”

You force a laugh, shaking your head. “No, it’s nothing. Just tired.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, clearly unconvinced. “Tired, or ‘I’m avoiding something and don’t want to talk about it’ tired?”

You sigh, setting down your tools. “It’s complicated, Tony.”

“Lucky for you, I’m a genius,” he quips, giving you a crooked smile. “Try me.”

You hesitate, chewing on your lip. Part of you wants to open up, to tell him everything about how things have been with Cole. But another part of you is terrified of what that might mean—what Tony might say or do. So instead, you give him the barest truth, the safest version of the story.

“Cole’s just… he doesn’t love the gifts,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Or the coffee. Or… well, you.”

Tony’s eyebrows shoot up. “Me?” he repeats, clearly taken aback. “What’d I do?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. “It’s just… he thinks you’re too generous. That you’re overstepping.”

Tony stares at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, if my coffee and flowers are causing problems for you, just say the word. I’ll stop.”

You shake your head, your chest tightening. “That’s not what I want, Tony. You’ve been… you’ve been amazing, honestly. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His gaze softens, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. Then he smiles—a small, gentle smile that makes your heart ache. “Well, for the record, I don’t plan on going anywhere. But if you need me to ease up, just let me know, okay?”

You nod, trying to smile back, but the guilt gnaws at you. You hate that Cole’s jealousy has made you second-guess Tony’s kindness, that it’s made you feel like you have to choose between the two of them.

Things with Cole only get worse. The arguments become more frequent, his words sharper, more cutting. He starts keeping tabs on your schedule, questioning every minute you spend in the lab. And when you do come home, he’s cold, distant, like he’s punishing you for something you can’t quite understand.

One night, after another fight leaves you in tears, you find yourself staring at your phone, your fingers hovering over Tony’s contact. You want to call him, to hear his voice, to feel the comfort of his unwavering support. But you don’t. Instead, you curl up on the couch, clutching the tiny wrench keychain he gave you like a lifeline.

Tony doesn’t press you, but he doesn’t back off, either. If anything, he doubles down on the small gestures. He brings you coffee every morning, just like always, but now there’s a little note attached—a joke, a doodle, something to make you smile. He leaves snacks on your desk when you’re too busy to eat, reminds you to take breaks, and even surprises you with a new toolkit when your old one starts falling apart.

“Can’t have my favorite lab partner working with subpar equipment,” he says when you thank him, his tone light but his eyes serious.

Every time he does something like this, it chips away at the walls you’ve been building around yourself. Because Tony doesn’t just make you feel appreciated—he makes you feel seen, like he knows you better than anyone else in the world.

Cole notices, of course. And he’s not happy.

One night, after you come home with another gift from Tony—a small, sleek notebook engraved with your initials—Cole snaps.

“This has to stop,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. He’s pacing the living room, his hands clenched into fists. “I’m not going to sit here and watch you let some other guy spoil you like this.”

“Tony’s just being nice,” you say, your voice shaking. “He’s my friend, Cole. That’s all.”

“Bullshit,” he spits, turning to face you. “He’s not just your friend, Y/N. No guy spends that much time and energy on someone without expecting something in return.”

The accusation makes your stomach churn. “That’s not true. Tony’s never—”

“He doesn’t have to,” Cole interrupts, his eyes blazing. “You think I don’t see the way he looks at you? The way you light up when he’s around? You’re already halfway out the door, Y/N, and you don’t even realize it.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You want to deny it, to tell him he’s wrong, but the truth lodges in your throat, heavy and suffocating. Because part of you knows he’s right.

Tony does look at you like that. And you do light up when he’s around.

But that doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong. It doesn’t mean you deserve this—Cole’s anger, his jealousy, the constant feeling that you’re walking on eggshells.

“I can’t do this right now,” you say, your voice breaking. You grab your bag and head in the bedroom, ignoring Cole’s protests as you leave.

It’s been days since the last fight with Cole, but the weight of his words hasn’t left you. He’s been quieter since then, distant but simmering. Every interaction feels like walking a tightrope—one wrong step, and everything will come crashing down.

You try to focus on work, on the comfort of the lab and Tony’s steady presence. But when you’re home, the walls close in. Cole’s criticisms have sunk deep, making you question everything about yourself. When you’re not fighting, there’s a suffocating tension, a calm before the inevitable storm.

One night, after a long shift at the lab, you come home to find him waiting in the living room. His expression is dark, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“You’re late,” he says flatly, his voice devoid of warmth.

You sigh, setting your bag down carefully by the door. “I told you I had to finish something important with Tony.”

“Of course,” he snaps, standing and pacing. “It’s always Tony, isn’t it? Tony this, Tony that. You spend more time with him than you do with me. Do you even want to be here, Y/N?”

The accusation cuts deep, but you’re too tired to argue. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

He stops pacing, his eyes narrowing. “Barely. And when you are here, it’s like your mind’s somewhere else. Admit it—you’re thinking about him.”

“Cole, that’s not fair,” you say, your voice shaking. “I’ve told you before—Tony’s my friend. That’s all.”

His laugh is cold, bitter. “You really expect me to believe that? After everything? The gifts, the flowers, the way he looks at you? Hell, the way you light up when he’s around?”

“Stop,” you plead, tears welling up in your eyes. “Just stop. I can’t keep having this same fight with you.”

“Then maybe you should leave,” he says harshly, his words like a slap.

The silence that follows is deafening. For a moment, you wonder if he means it. But then his expression softens, and he steps closer, reaching for you.

“I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly. “You know I just… I just get jealous because I care about you. Because I don’t want to lose you.”

You nod, even though your chest feels tight and the words taste bitter.

You let it go. Again.

The breaking point comes a few nights later. You’re in the kitchen, making dinner, when Cole comes home. He’s earlier than usual, and you can tell right away that something’s off. His movements are sharp, his expression stormy.

“Hey,” you say cautiously. “Everything okay?”

“Funny,” he says, dropping his keys on the counter with a loud clatter. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“What do you mean?”

He holds up his phone, and your stomach sinks when you see what’s on the screen: a photo of you and Tony in the lab. You’re laughing at something he’s said, your hand lightly brushing his arm.

“Where did you get that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says coldly. “What matters is that while I’m here, worrying about us, you’re out there playing happy little lab partners with Stark.”

“That’s not what this is,” you say, your voice trembling. “You’re blowing this out of proportion, Cole. It’s just a picture.”

“Oh, it’s just a picture,” he sneers. “You’re unbelievable, Y/N. Do you even hear yourself? Do you even realize how disrespectful this is to me?”

You open your mouth to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

“I’m done,” he snaps, his voice rising. “I’m done being the guy you come home to while you spend all your time with him. If you want Tony so bad, why don’t you just go be with him?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“Cole…” you start, tears streaming down your face. “You’re twisting this into something it’s not. I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” he says harshly. “If you did, you wouldn’t make me feel like this. Like I’m nothing to you.”

Something inside you snaps.

“I’ve done nothing but try to make this work,” you say, your voice breaking. “I’ve bent over backward to prove myself to you, to make you feel secure, and it’s never enough. Nothing I do is ever enough for you.”

“Maybe because you’re not enough,” he says, his words cutting like a knife.

The room spins, your chest tightening as the weight of his words crushes you. But then, through the haze of pain, something shifts.

You realize you can’t do this anymore.

You can’t keep living like this—walking on eggshells, shrinking yourself to fit into the narrow mold of what Cole thinks you should be.

Without a word, you turn and walk to the bedroom, grabbing a duffel bag from the closet.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice panicked now.

“I’m leaving,” you say, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “I can’t do this anymore, Cole. I can’t keep sacrificing myself for someone who doesn’t even see me.”

“You’re overreacting,” he says, his tone shifting to pleading. “Y/N, don’t do this. Don’t throw everything away.”

You stop, turning to face him one last time. “You did that all on your own.”

And with that, you walk out the door, the weight lifting off your shoulders even as your heart shatters.

It’s late by the time you arrive at Tony’s penthouse, your hands trembling as you knock on the door. The ride over had been a blur, your mind racing with everything that had just happened. You have nowhere else to go, no one else you can turn to.

When the door swings open, Tony’s standing there in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair tousled from what was probably a rare early night in. His eyes widen when he sees you, and then his expression softens, concern etched into every line of his face.

“Y/N?” he says gently. “What’s wrong?”

You try to speak, but the words get caught in your throat. Instead, a sob escapes, and before you know it, Tony’s pulling you into his arms.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, his voice soothing as he holds you close. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

For a long moment, you just stand there, letting yourself break in his arms. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t ask questions. He just holds you, his presence steady and grounding.

When you finally pull back, wiping at your tear-streaked face, he guides you inside, leading you to the couch.

“Take your time,” he says softly, sitting beside you. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, and then the words start pouring out. You tell him everything—about the fights, the jealousy, the way Cole made you feel like you were never enough. By the time you’re done, your voice is hoarse, and you’re trembling from the weight of it all.

Tony listens quietly, his jaw tight and his eyes dark with anger. But when he speaks, his voice is calm, steady.

“Y/N,” he says, reaching for your hand. “You didn’t deserve any of that. Not a single word, not a single moment.”

The sincerity in his voice breaks something inside you, and fresh tears spill over.

“I just… I thought I could fix it,” you whisper. “I thought if I tried hard enough, I could make him love me the way he used to.”

Tony’s grip on your hand tightens. “You shouldn’t have to try to earn someone’s love,” he says fiercely. “You deserve someone who sees you, who values you for exactly who you are.”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, letting his words sink in. And then, for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a spark of hope.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “For everything.”

Tony smiles softly, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Always.”

And as you sit there, wrapped in the safety of his presence, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re finally free.

Tony watches you carefully, his expression soft yet laced with worry. You’re sitting on the couch, bundled in one of his blankets, your eyes puffy from crying but starting to regain some of their warmth. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“Y/N,” he begins gently, his voice low and calming, “you don’t have to decide anything tonight, but… I want you to know you can stay here. For as long as you need. No questions, no pressure. Just stay.”

The weight of his offer makes you pause. It’s so simple, so heartfelt, yet so overwhelming. After everything that’s happened tonight, the idea of being anywhere but here—with Tony, with his steady strength—feels unbearable.

“Tony, I couldn’t,” you say, shaking your head. “This is your home, your space—”

“And now it’s your space too, if you need it,” he interrupts, his tone resolute but kind. “Come on, Y/N. You just walked out on a toxic situation, and you don’t need to figure everything out overnight. This place is big enough to lose half the Avengers in; you’re not crowding me. Besides…” He shrugs, grinning playfully. “I could use a roommate who doesn’t hack into my suits for fun.”

Despite yourself, you let out a soft laugh, and Tony’s smile widens, his expression lighting up at the sound.

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding slowly. “Just for a little while.”

Tony leans back, his relief palpable. “Good. And don’t worry about anything. I’ve got guest rooms, extra pajamas—hell, I’ll even share my secret stash of premium ice cream. No strings attached.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You have a secret ice cream stash?”

“Like I’d survive this crazy life without it,” he quips. “Come on, let’s raid it. Ice cream fixes everything.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re sitting side by side on the couch, each armed with a pint of ice cream and a spoon. The TV plays in the background, some cheesy action movie neither of you is really watching. You’ve spent the past ten minutes venting, pouring out everything you’d been bottling up for months—the fights, the manipulation, the way Cole made you feel small and undeserving of love.

Tony listens intently, his expression shifting from anger to sadness to something else entirely—something softer, more protective. Every time you mention Cole’s name, his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. He lets you talk, lets you spill everything, and when you finally fall silent, he speaks.

“Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with both anger and sorrow, “I can’t tell you how much I hate that you went through all of that. And I’m trying—really trying—not to go full Iron Man on this guy and teach him a lesson he’ll never forget.”

You chuckle weakly, shaking your head. “Please don’t, Tony. He’s not worth it.”

“No, he’s not,” Tony agrees, his tone firm. “But you are. You’re worth everything, Y/N, and you deserve so much better than the crap he put you through.”

His words hit you hard, tears threatening to spill again. But this time, they’re tears of gratitude, of relief. You don’t know what you’d do without Tony’s unwavering support, without his ability to make you feel like you’re not alone.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “For all of this. For everything.”

Tony smiles softly, reaching over to give your hand a gentle squeeze. “Always.”

The night stretches on, and eventually, exhaustion starts to creep in. You’re still on the couch, your ice cream forgotten on the coffee table, and the steady rhythm of Tony’s voice is like a balm to your frayed nerves. You don’t even realize how tired you are until your head starts to droop, leaning closer and closer to Tony.

Before you know it, you’re resting against his shoulder, your breathing slow and even as sleep takes over.

Tony freezes for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy. But then he looks down at you, his expression softening into something indescribably tender. He can’t help but smile, his heart swelling with emotions he’s spent years trying to keep at bay.

God, he’s in love with you.

He’s known it for a long time, but seeing you like this—vulnerable, trusting, safe in his presence—it hits him all over again. You’re everything to him, and if he’s being honest, he’s more than a little relieved that you’re finally free of Cole. Not just because of what Cole put you through, but because now there’s a chance—a tiny, fragile chance—that you might one day see Tony the way he sees you.

But tonight isn’t about that. Tonight is about you.

Carefully, Tony shifts slightly, wrapping an arm around you to make sure you’re comfortable. He grabs the throw blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you with practiced ease. You murmur something in your sleep, nuzzling closer to him, and his smile grows impossibly wider.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispers, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

He sits there for a long time, holding you as you sleep, his mind racing with thoughts of the future—of what he can do to help you heal, to make you feel whole again. Because if there’s one thing he knows for certain, it’s this:

He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you never feel unloved or unworthy again.

Life at Tony’s penthouse is different—quiet, comforting, and safe. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel like you’re holding your breath. No more walking on eggshells, no more second-guessing yourself over every little thing. It’s strange, this newfound sense of freedom, but slowly, you’re beginning to settle into it.

Tony, of course, makes it easy. He’s there in every way you need, whether it’s with his quick wit that always coaxes a laugh from you, or the way he seems to sense when you’re overwhelmed and knows just when to step in—or back off. He never pries, never pushes, but he’s always there.

A week into your stay, he insists on taking care of what you’ve been dreading.

“Y/N,” he says one morning over coffee, “I’ve got it handled.”

You frown, looking up from your mug. “Got what handled?”

“Your stuff,” he says casually, as if it’s no big deal. “I sent Happy and the team over to Cole’s to grab everything that’s yours. No way I’m letting you go back there and deal with him. Ever.”

Your stomach twists at the mention of Cole, but the weight lifts just as quickly at Tony’s matter-of-fact tone. He’s already handled it, just like that. No drama, no arguments, no lingering ties to your old life.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you stammer, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness.

Tony shrugs, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Say thank you, and maybe bake me some cookies later. I hear you make a mean chocolate chip.”

You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “Thank you, Tony. Really.”

He winks. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

When the boxes arrive later that day, it’s bittersweet. You’re relieved to have your things back, but seeing them stacked in the corner of the guest room—the room Tony’s insisted is now your room—feels surreal. This is your life now, and it’s so different from what you’ve known.

Tony gives you space as you unpack, but he hovers nearby, always ready with a joke or an offer to help. When you pull out a framed photo of you and your family, your hands freeze, a lump forming in your throat.

Tony notices immediately. “Hey,” he says softly, stepping closer. “You okay?”

You nod, blinking back tears. “Yeah. Just… it’s a lot.”

“I know,” he says gently, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Take your time. And if you need a distraction…” He holds up a box with a grin. “I’ve got a few boxes labeled ‘miscellaneous,’ and I’m dying to know what you kept in them.”

You laugh, swatting his arm. “Nosy.”

“Hey, I’m offering my world-class organizing skills here. I’m practically Martha Stewart.”

His antics make it easier to get through the day, and by the time you’ve unpacked, the guest room feels less like a temporary space and more like a home.

Living with Tony is… easy.

He’s nothing like Cole, and that contrast is both liberating and disorienting. He doesn’t criticize you for sleeping in or for spending hours tinkering with your own projects in the lab. He doesn’t demand to know where you’ve been if you step out for a walk, or guilt you for wanting time alone.

Instead, Tony encourages you to take up space, to be yourself.

“You’ve got ideas, Y/N,” he says one day as you both work in the lab. “Brilliant ones. Don’t hold back just because you think I’ll be offended. Hell, half the time, you’re smarter than me. And trust me, that’s a compliment I don’t give lightly.”

You smile, the warmth in his words chasing away the lingering doubts that still sometimes creep in.

“You really mean that?”

“Always,” he says firmly.

And it’s not just his words—it’s his actions, too. Every morning, there’s a cup of your favorite coffee waiting for you, often accompanied by something small and thoughtful. One day, it’s a book you’d mentioned weeks ago. Another, it’s a tiny model of a starship from your favorite sci-fi series.

And sometimes, it’s flowers.

You find a fresh bouquet on the kitchen counter one morning, the note attached reading:

“For the brightest part of my day. -T”

Your heart swells, and you catch yourself smiling like a lovestruck teenager.

Not everything is smooth sailing, though. There are moments when the shadows of your past creep in, moments when Cole’s voice echoes in your mind, making you second-guess yourself.

One evening, after spending hours in the lab with Tony, you sit at the kitchen counter, staring at the empty takeout container in front of you. Guilt gnaws at the edges of your thoughts. Cole’s voice whispers in your ear: You’re wasting time again, Y/N. Neglecting the things that really matter.

Tony notices immediately.

“Hey,” he says, setting down his tablet and moving to your side. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You hesitate, not wanting to burden him. But Tony doesn’t let it slide.

“Y/N,” he says gently, his voice coaxing. “Talk to me.”

“I just… sometimes I feel like I’m not doing enough,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like I’m wasting time, or I’m not…”

“Not what?” Tony prompts, his brow furrowing.

“Not enough,” you say, your voice breaking.

Tony’s expression softens, and he crouches beside you, taking your hands in his.

“Y/N,” he says firmly, his voice full of conviction. “You are more than enough. Anyone who made you feel otherwise was wrong. Dead wrong. And if I ever meet him…” His jaw tightens, but then he exhales, forcing himself to relax. “Let me rephrase. If I ever meet him, I’ll shake his hand for one reason only—because he was stupid enough to let you go, and now I get to remind you every day how incredible you are.”

You blink, his words sinking in like sunlight breaking through a storm.

“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice trembling.

Tony grins. “Of course I do. Have you met me? I don’t say things I don’t mean. Now, come on. Let’s grab dessert and watch something terrible on TV. My treat.”

He pulls you to your feet, and for the first time in a long time, you feel light—free.

As the weeks pass, you start to feel more like yourself again. Tony’s unrelenting support, his thoughtfulness, and his ridiculous sense of humor remind you that life doesn’t have to be heavy, that you can be happy without fear of consequences.

And through it all, Tony is there—steady, reliable, and quietly, hopelessly in love with you.

It’s an ordinary evening at Tony’s penthouse. You’re in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, a soft smile on your face as you watch Tony make an attempt—well, a valiant attempt—at cooking dinner. He’s muttering something about how much easier it would be if he could just program JARVIS to handle all his culinary disasters, and the sight is enough to make your chest feel warm.

For months now, you’ve been living here, slowly piecing yourself back together. Tony has been your anchor, your constant, and somewhere along the way, the feelings you’d kept buried for so long started to resurface. At first, you chalked it up to gratitude, to the safety he gave you, but now you know better.

You’re in love with him.

It terrifies you—because the last time you opened yourself up to someone, it left you shattered. But this is Tony. He’s nothing like Cole, and deep down, you know he never would be.

Still, you haven’t told him. Not yet.

The sound of your phone vibrating on the counter pulls you out of your thoughts. The number on the screen is unfamiliar, but without thinking, you answer.

“Hello?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and then a voice you haven’t heard in months makes your blood run cold.

“Y/N,” Cole says, his tone smooth and familiar, and your stomach clenches.

Panic floods your veins, your breathing hitching as you freeze in place.

“Y/N, it’s me. Look, I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I just… I need to talk to you. I need you to understand—”

Your mind races, and suddenly, the walls of Tony’s penthouse feel too close, too confining. Before you can respond—or hang up—the phone is gently taken from your hand.

You look up to see Tony standing beside you, his expression calm but deadly serious.

“Who is this?” he says, his tone steely as he presses the phone to his ear.

There’s a pause, and you watch as Tony’s jaw tightens. He glances at you, his eyes softening briefly before his face hardens again.

“Cole,” Tony says, his voice low and dangerous. “Yeah, I know who you are. And you’re going to listen very carefully. This is the last time you’ll ever call her. If you try to contact her again—in any way—I’ll make sure the authorities know exactly who you are and what you’ve done. Am I clear?”

You hear muffled protests on the other end, but Tony doesn’t let him get another word in.

“Good,” Tony snaps, and then he ends the call, tossing your phone onto the counter.

The room falls silent, save for the sound of your uneven breathing. Tony turns to you, his expression softening immediately.

“Y/N,” he says gently, stepping closer. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s not going to bother you again. I promise.”

You nod, but the panic is still bubbling under the surface, your hands trembling as you try to process what just happened.

“Come here,” Tony says softly, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. His embrace is warm, solid, and for the first time since you heard Cole’s voice, you feel like you can breathe again.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice shaking.

Tony pulls back just enough to look at you, his brow furrowing. “Hey, don’t apologize. None of this is your fault. Not a single thing.”

You nod, but tears spill down your cheeks anyway. Tony reaches up, brushing them away with his thumb.

“Listen to me,” he says, his voice steady but full of emotion. “You’re safe here. With me. He doesn’t get to have any power over you anymore, okay? Not while I’m around.”

You sniffle, managing a small nod. “Okay.”

Tony’s arms tighten around you, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“You’re stronger than you know,” he murmurs. “But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

His words sink into you, grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed.

After a few moments, you pull back slightly, looking up at him. “Thank you, Tony.”

He smiles softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Always, sweetheart.”

And in that moment, as you look into his warm brown eyes, you feel something shift. The fear and panic begin to fade, replaced by something else entirely—something safe, steady, and unwavering.

It’s love. And this time, it feels like it could be yours.

Tony Stark steps out of his sleek black Audi, the hum of the engine fading as he straightens his suit jacket. The dimly lit street in front of Cole’s crummy apartment is a far cry from the luxury of the penthouse, and the contrast isn’t lost on him. He checks his watch briefly—he doesn’t want to take too long. Not when you’re back at home, waiting for him to start your movie night.

He sighs, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the discomfort of what he’s about to do. This isn’t his style, not anymore. But for you? For you, he’d tear apart the world.

Walking up the cracked concrete steps, Tony barely glances at the graffiti-covered walls or the muffled arguments echoing from other apartments. He finds Cole’s unit easily enough; Happy’s intel was, as always, flawless. Without hesitation, he knocks sharply.

The door creaks open, revealing Cole’s confused face. It takes him a moment to recognize Tony, but when he does, his confusion morphs into unease.

“Tony Stark?” Cole asks, his voice unsure. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Tony doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “We need to talk.”

Cole scoffs, attempting to mask his nerves with bravado. “I’ve got nothing to say to you. And Y/N—”

“Stop,” Tony cuts him off, his tone sharp as a knife. He steps forward, his presence filling the doorway. “You don’t get to say her name. Not after everything you’ve done.”

Cole backs up slightly, his bravado slipping. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but this is none of your business.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, his expression calm but ice-cold. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Y/N is my business. She’s under my roof, and she’s finally starting to feel like herself again after everything you put her through. And then you had the audacity to call her?” He steps closer, his voice lowering to something almost lethal. “Big mistake.”

Cole tries to put on a sneer, but it doesn’t quite land. “What are you gonna do, Stark? Use your money to buy me off? Intimidate me with your Iron Man shtick?”

Tony smirks, pulling a sleek envelope from his jacket pocket. “Actually, yeah, I am.” He tosses the envelope onto a nearby table. “Inside, you’ll find a one-way ticket to France, fully paid for, and a sizable amount of cash to make sure you don’t come crawling back anytime soon. Call it my version of charity.”

Cole picks up the envelope, flipping through the contents with a scowl. “And what if I don’t take it?”

Tony steps closer, his voice dropping to a low, deadly tone. “Then I’ll make sure everyone knows who you really are, Cole. Your manipulative, gaslighting, toxic little games? They’re over. If you so much as breathe in Y/N’s direction again, I’ll ruin you in ways you can’t even imagine. You won’t just lose her—you’ll lose everything.”

Cole glares at him, but the fear in his eyes is unmistakable. “You can’t just—”

“Oh, I can,” Tony interrupts smoothly, leaning in so his face is mere inches from Cole’s. “And I will. Because she deserves peace, and I’m going to make damn sure she gets it. So take the deal, Cole. Consider it the best option you’ll ever get.”

For a moment, the room is silent. Cole’s jaw tightens, but he knows he’s been cornered. With a muttered curse, he throws the envelope onto the table.

“Fine,” Cole snaps. “I’ll take your stupid deal.”

Tony straightens, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. “Smart choice. Now, pack your things. Your flight leaves tomorrow morning. And remember…” He pauses at the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “Stay gone.”

Without another word, Tony leaves, his steps confident as he heads back to his car.

By the time Tony returns to the penthouse, the tension in his chest has eased. He knows Cole won’t be a problem anymore, and that knowledge alone is enough to make him feel lighter.

When he steps into the living room, he finds you curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs and a bowl of popcorn in your lap. You look up as he enters, a soft smile spreading across your face.

“There you are,” you say warmly. “I was starting to think you bailed on me.”

Tony grins, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. “Bail on movie night? Not a chance.”

He sits down beside you, grabbing a handful of popcorn and leaning back into the cushions. The tension from earlier melts away entirely as you press play on the movie, your laughter filling the room moments later.

Tony glances at you, his chest tightening—not with worry, but with something far sweeter. You’re here, you’re safe, and you’re smiling.

And he’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.

The morning sun filters through the penthouse windows, bathing the living room in golden light. You’re seated on the couch, your laptop balanced on your knees as you scroll through apartment listings. A knot tightens in your stomach with every tab you open, but you keep going. This is what you need to do, you tell yourself. It’s time to stand on your own two feet again.

Tony strolls in, coffee mug in hand, dressed casually in sweatpants and a faded band t-shirt that somehow looks effortlessly stylish. His hair is tousled, as if he just woke up, and the sight makes your heart ache more than you’d like to admit.

“Morning,” he greets, his voice warm and gravelly. He nods toward your laptop. “What’re you working on?”

You hesitate, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I… I’m looking for apartments.”

Tony freezes mid-sip, lowering his mug with exaggerated slowness. “Apartments?” he echoes, his tone carefully neutral.

“Yeah,” you say, forcing a smile. “I mean, I’ve been here for months now. You’ve been more than generous, Tony, but I think it’s time I find my own place. Get back to normal, you know?”

Tony leans against the counter, his gaze fixed on you. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and the silence stretches just long enough to make you squirm.

“Normal?” he finally says, a hint of teasing in his voice. “What’s so great about normal? I thought you liked our penthouse movie nights, me burning half the dinner, and JARVIS randomly suggesting we upgrade the toaster.”

You laugh softly, but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “I do like all that. It’s just… I can’t stay here forever. I need to prove to myself that I can do this on my own.”

Tony’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. He sets his mug down on the counter, crossing his arms. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Y/N. Least of all me.”

“It’s not about proving something to you,” you say, your voice quieter now. “It’s about proving it to myself. I’ve been leaning on you for so long, and I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done. But…”

Tony’s lips press into a thin line, and he nods, cutting you off gently. “But you’re ready to spread your wings, find your own space. I get it.”

He’s trying so hard to sound casual, but you see through him. His eyes don’t quite meet yours, and his usual easy confidence seems dimmed.

You hate how much it hurts to see him like this. And worse, you hate how much it hurts you to even consider leaving.

“Tony, it’s not like I’ll be far,” you say, trying to ease the tension. “I’ll visit all the time. You’ll probably get sick of me dropping by unannounced.”

Tony finally meets your gaze, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Not possible. But, hey, if that’s what you want, I’ll support you.”

The words are so simple, so Tony. He’s always supported you, always put your needs above his own. And maybe that’s part of why leaving feels so wrong.

Over the next few days, you keep searching for apartments, though your heart isn’t in it. You don’t want to leave—not really—but the fear that’s been gnawing at you since Cole resurfaces every time you catch Tony looking at you a little too long, or when his hand brushes yours during movie night, or when he smiles at you like you’re the only person in the room.

You’re falling for him. Hard.

And it terrifies you.

You’ve been burned before, shattered by someone you thought you could trust. And even though Tony is nothing like Cole—even though he’s shown you nothing but kindness and care—part of you can’t help but think that loving him would leave you just as broken.

So you push him away, bit by bit.

Tony notices.

One evening, you’re in the kitchen, preparing dinner. You don’t hear Tony approach until he’s standing next to you, leaning casually against the counter.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he says, his tone light but probing.

You glance at him, forcing a smile. “Have I?”

He nods, studying you with those sharp, perceptive eyes. “You’re pulling back. I can see it.”

Your hands still, and you grip the edge of the counter. “I’m not pulling back,” you say weakly.

Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, if you need space, just say so. I’ll back off, no questions asked. But if this is about more than just apartments…” He trails off, searching your face.

You shake your head quickly. “It’s not about anything else.”

His eyes narrow slightly, and you can tell he doesn’t believe you. But he doesn’t press further.

“Okay,” he says softly. “If that’s what you want.”

That night, you lie awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling. The guilt churns in your stomach, warring with the fear you can’t seem to shake.

You think about Tony—his laugh, his kindness, the way he makes you feel like you’re worth something.

And then you think about Cole, about the way he made you feel small, worthless, afraid.

Tears prick at your eyes as you realize the truth: you’re not pushing Tony away because of him. You’re pushing him away because of you. Because you’re scared of letting yourself be loved, scared of what it means to let someone in again.

But deep down, you know that Tony isn’t Cole. He never has been, and he never will be.

The thought stays with you as you drift off to sleep, unsure of what tomorrow will bring—but certain of one thing.

Tony Stark has your heart. And maybe it’s time to let him keep it.

The new apartment is nice. Spacious enough, with lots of natural light pouring through the big windows. It has the kind of charm you’d usually love—cozy corners for reading, a kitchen you can actually picture yourself cooking in. But as you stand in the middle of the living room, surrounded by neatly stacked boxes and the faint smell of fresh paint, it feels hollow.

Tony is across the room, carefully setting down a box labeled "fragile." He straightens up, brushing imaginary dust off his hands, and gives you a lopsided grin. “Well, that’s the last of it. You’re officially moved in.”

You force a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Thanks for all your help.”

“Anytime.” He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as his eyes flicker over your face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie, avoiding his gaze.

He doesn’t push, just nods slowly. “Right. Well…” He glances around, shoving his hands into his pockets. “How about one last night at the penthouse? A farewell to the old place before you settle in here.”

You hesitate. You know he’s giving you an excuse, a reason to stall without outright saying it. But the idea of leaving this quiet, empty apartment for one more night in the warmth of his home… in the warmth of him… is too tempting to resist.

“Okay,” you say softly.

Tony’s face lights up, and it tugs at something deep in your chest. “Great. Let’s go grab takeout and pick a movie. Your choice this time.”

That night, you’re lying in bed in Tony’s penthouse, staring at the ceiling. The sound of the city hums faintly in the background, but your mind is far from quiet.

This doesn’t feel right. None of it does.

Moving into the new apartment, leaving behind the safety and comfort of Tony’s home—it feels like you’re walking away from something you don’t actually want to let go of.

Your chest tightens as you think about him, about the way he’s been your constant these past months. The way he’s shown you kindness and patience, reminding you of your worth when you’d forgotten it. The way he looks at you, like you’re the most important person in the world.

And the truth you’ve been avoiding hits you like a freight train: You’re in love with him. You have been for a long time.

The thought makes your heart race—not with fear, but with something else entirely. Something that feels a lot like hope.

Unable to stay still, you throw off the covers and swing your legs out of bed. You need to tell him. Now.

But when you open the bedroom door, you find him standing there, in his plaid pajama pants and an old band t-shirt, looking startled to see you.

“Tony?” you whisper, confused.

“Hey,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh, I wasn’t spying or anything, I just… I wanted to check on you. You seemed off earlier, and I thought—”

“You were standing outside my door?”

“Yeah,” he admits, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that, but I didn’t want to bother you if you were sleeping, so…”

Your heart swells at the sight of him—this brilliant, confident man looking so adorably unsure of himself.

“Tony,” you say softly, stepping closer.

He takes a deep breath, his expression turning serious. “I need to say something,” he says, his voice quieter now. “And I know the timing sucks, and I’m probably going to mess this up, but… I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you for a while now. And I know you’ve been through hell, and the last thing I want to do is make things harder for you, but I can’t keep it in anymore.”

Your breath catches in your throat, but Tony doesn’t stop.

“I get it if you’re not ready, or if you don’t feel the same way, but I needed you to know. Because having you in my life has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and—”

You don’t let him finish.

Closing the space between you, you press your lips to his, cutting off his rambling with a kiss that’s soft and certain.

Tony freezes for a moment, his brain seemingly short-circuiting, before he kisses you back with an intensity that makes your knees weak. His hands come up to cup your face, holding you like you’re something precious, something he can’t quite believe is real.

When you finally pull back, his eyes are wide, his expression caught somewhere between stunned and elated.

“I want to give this a chance,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m scared, and I need to go slow, but… I want this. I want you.”

Tony’s face splits into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen, and he looks at you like you’ve just handed him the universe.

“As slow as you want,” he says quickly, his voice full of breathless excitement. “But, uh… can I have another kiss? Just, you know, to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

You laugh, your heart lighter than it’s been in years. “Yeah, you can have another kiss.”

And when you kiss him again, it feels like coming home.

Life with Tony Stark as your boyfriend is both everything you expected and nothing like you imagined. He’s indulgent, affectionate, and relentless in making you feel like the most important person in the world. But there’s also an unshakable tenderness in how he supports you—helping you unpack not just the physical baggage of your life but the emotional scars left behind by Cole.

It starts with the small things.

In the weeks following your confession, Tony seems to be on a personal mission to make you laugh every day. He whisks you off to rooftop picnics, surprises you with coffee at exactly the right time during your workday, and keeps gifting you little trinkets he claims “just reminded me of you.” One morning, you wake to find a tiny key-shaped necklace on your bedside table with a note attached: “You already have the key to my heart, but this one’s cuter.”

He doesn’t stop there. Every chance he gets, Tony casually reminds you of your beauty. Whether it’s a whispered “God, you’re stunning” as he watches you brush your hair, or a grin as he walks into the room and says, “How are you real?” he refuses to let a day pass without telling you how much you mean to him.

At first, it’s overwhelming. You’re not used to this—to being loved so openly, so freely, without conditions.

And sometimes, the habits Cole drilled into you creep in.

One night, you’re cooking dinner. It’s been a long day for both of you, but Tony insists on helping, chopping vegetables while chatting animatedly about a new design he’s working on. You laugh at his enthusiasm, but there’s a pang of guilt in your chest as you glance at the cluttered counter.

“I should’ve cleaned up first,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this mess.”

Tony pauses, knife mid-air, and looks at you with furrowed brows. “What?”

“It’s just… messy,” you say, gesturing vaguely at the kitchen. “You’ve had a long day, and—”

“Whoa, hold up,” he interrupts, setting the knife down. “Y/N, I’m not exactly allergic to a few crumbs on the counter. And even if I were, it wouldn’t matter because I’m here with you.”

You glance away, embarrassed. “I just don’t want to inconvenience you.”

Tony steps closer, gently taking your hands in his. “Listen to me,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “You’re not an inconvenience. You’ve never been an inconvenience. If you leave a mess, we clean it up. If you’re tired, we order takeout. Whatever it is, we figure it out together. Okay?”

You nod, blinking back tears.

He leans down to kiss your forehead, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You don’t have to shrink yourself for me, Y/N. Not ever.”

Moments like that happen often.

You find yourself unconsciously deferring to Tony’s preferences—asking him what he wants to watch, what he wants to eat, what he thinks you should wear. It’s not intentional; it’s just a habit born from years of trying to keep the peace with someone who made you feel like you could never do anything right.

Tony, of course, notices.

“Okay, hold up,” he says one evening, holding the TV remote hostage as you try to hand it to him.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“I’m not making this decision,” he declares. “You pick the movie.”

“But—”

“Nope.” He cuts you off with a cheeky grin. “Your turn. I’ll watch anything. Even one of those rom-coms where everyone falls in love during a snowstorm and learns the true meaning of Christmas.”

You laugh despite yourself. “You hate those movies.”

“Not true,” he says with mock seriousness. “I love them if you’re watching with me. So what’s it gonna be?”

It’s a small thing, picking a movie. But when you make your choice and see the way Tony smiles—like he’s proud of you for speaking up—it feels like a victory.

Tony’s affection isn’t just verbal.

He’s incredibly touchy, constantly finding excuses to hold your hand, drape an arm around your shoulders, or pull you into a hug. When you’re working late in the lab, he sneaks up behind you to kiss your temple or nuzzle your neck, murmuring something about how much he loves seeing your “brilliant brain in action.”

And he adores cuddling.

One lazy Sunday morning, you wake to find him practically glued to your side, his arm slung around your waist and his head resting on your shoulder.

“You’re clingy,” you tease, though you make no effort to move away.

“Clingy?” he echoes, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know this is a highly advanced form of affection distribution.”

You laugh, running your fingers through his messy hair. “Oh, is that what this is?”

“Absolutely,” he says, leaning into your touch. “Can’t let my girlfriend forget how much I love her. It’s a full-time job.”

Your heart swells at the word girlfriend. It still feels surreal, hearing him say it so casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Over time, you start to notice a shift within yourself.

The habits you developed around Cole—the constant second-guessing, the need to please, the fear of taking up space—begin to fade. It’s not an overnight change, but it’s there, thanks to Tony’s unrelenting patience and love.

He doesn’t just tell you that you’re enough; he shows you, every single day.

One evening, you’re sitting on the couch together, your legs draped over his lap as you sip a glass of wine. Out of nowhere, he says, “You know you’re amazing, right?”

You look at him, surprised. “What brought that on?”

“Just felt like saying it,” he replies with a shrug, though there’s a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You’re smart, funny, gorgeous, and you have this way of lighting up a room without even trying. I don’t think I’ve told you that today, so…”

You set your glass down and lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what?” he asks, his arms sliding around your waist.

“For loving me the way you do.”

Tony pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression serious. “Y/N, loving you isn’t something I do. It’s who I am.”

Months pass, and the two of you settle into a rhythm—a life filled with laughter, love, and the occasional mishap (usually involving Tony’s cooking experiments).

You start to feel like yourself again, like the person you were before Cole, only stronger. And every time you catch Tony looking at you with that soft, adoring expression, you’re reminded that this is what love is supposed to feel like.

Safe. Supportive. Unconditional.

And every day, you fall for him a little more.

Girls, boys, people, never ever doubt your self worth, and more than anything don't let anyone make you doubt of it. Because you're worth it, you're worth everything. Remember, if he hits you, it's not love, if he makes you feel small or underserving or bad, or anything like that, it's not love. Love is supposed to turn you to the best version of yourself, to make you happy. Always remember that <3

[taylorman2274]

Reverse Isekai Genshin Shenanigans #2

Characters: Venti, Kaeya, Diluc, Xingqiu, Zhongli

---------------------------------------------------------

"Is everything to your liking, Venti?" you asked.

"Oh none of that, [Y/N]," Venti responded with a small smile. "No need to be so formal around me."

The two of you were currently in the living room of your apartment. Since Venti was here, you had planned on showing him some of the stuff around your place. As for how Venti got here in the first place...

It's kind of a long story.

But to make that story short, Venti told you that Albedo and the Traveler had been working on a device that can establish a linked portal between Teyvat and Earth. From what you understand, it's kind of how you are able to access Teyvat on your computer, but this time it's the other way around.

It's honestly surprising how quickly it took them to reach you.

"However," Venti began, raising a finger. "Before you show me any more stuff, do you by chance happen to have any wine around? I am quite curious to see how your world's wine holds up to Mondstadt's."

You shook your head. "Nope. Sorry, I don't drink."

"You don't?!" Venti gasped. "Well that's no fun! Life is so much better when indulging in fabulous wine."

"My liver would say otherwise." you quipped.

Venti, ignoring you, continued. "It's unfortunate, really. And I was just beginning to get my hopes up high," he sighed. "But alas, I guess a bard's stomach will have to go empty for now."

You could tell that he was joking, but you still felt like helping him out. He was your guest, after all.

Luckily, your apartment was in the middle of a shopping complex.

"How about this. There's a wine store nearby. I can walk down and grab you something. Would that be alright?"

Venti's eyes are shining so bright you nearly covered your eyes to stop from going blind.

"Ohoho, really now?" he smirks, before giving a Knight of Favonius salute. "Lead the way then, [Y/N]. I shall be right behind you."

You sighed. "No, Venti. I can't risk you being seen by other people. Just tell me what you want and I'll go get it."

"Not a chance!" he happily exclaimed, skipping towards the door. "A decision of great importance should be trusted with an expert connoisseur such as myself."

He opened the door and gestured you towards the empty hallway. "After you, dear friend."

...

The God of Freedom has restrictions when it comes to purchasing wine apparently.

---------------------------------------------------------

"I must say, [Y/N]. Your place certainly is interesting. It's both familiar and exotic."

You raised a skeptical brow at the calvary captain. "Should I be taking that as a compliment or...?"

In response, Kaeya chuckled. "I simply mean that it's unique. Let's leave it at that."

You slowly nodded. Kaeya was a hard person to read, but you think he meant it as a complement.

...You think.

"However, before we continue, do you have any drinks on hand. I'm getting a bit thirsty."

You nodded politely. "Of course, I'll go get you something right away!"

You quickly walked to the kitchen and opened your fridge. "What would you like? I've got water, milk, juice, soda..."

Kaeya thought for a second. "Do you have any wine?"

...

Goddammit.

You loudly sighed. "First of all, I don't drink. Second of all, Venti made me spend nearly $100 at the wine store, and I didn't even get to keep any of it!"

Kaeya pondered in thought some more. "A wine store...?"

Oh no.

"No..." you warned. "Don't you even think about getting me to spend more money."

Kaeya merely brought a hand to his hip, "But I am a guest, am I not? It is common courtesy for the guest to be treated respectively after all."

...

You hate it when they're right.

You sighed again. "Fine..."

Kaeya softly smiled. "Excellent. I can't wait to see what they have to offer."

Thankfully, Kaeya was nice enough to settle for only one wine bottle.

---------------------------------------------------------

"I'm sorry if this isn't to your liking, Master Diluc."

"Please, [Y/N]. Just Diluc is fine. No need for formalities when we're not in Teyvat."

He began to look around at his surroundings.

"Though I am curious as to why you decided to bring me to a restaurant of all places."

"Because you didn't want to go to the wine store." you replied, deadpan. "Which honestly surprises me considering you own the biggest winery in Mondstadt."

Diluc did not look impressed. "I've seen enough wine in my life already, it does not make any difference if I go see anymore."

You shrugged your shoulders. "Suit yourself."

You looked back down at the menu in your hands, reading its contents for something good to order.

"...Is there another reason why you brought me here?"

You looked up at him. "...I mean yeah, there is, but it's nothing important."

Diluc crossed his arms. "Oh? What is it?"

You pointed to the top of his menu. "It's the name of the restaurant."

He looked down towards the menu and read the name. "Firebirds? What of it?"

You tilted your head. "...You don't get it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Get what?"

"Ah, forget it," you waved a hand. "I just thought it was something funny."

---------------------------------------------------------

"Where are we heading, my liege?"

"Somewhere I think you'll really like."

The two of you walked through the front doors and stopped just a few steps afterward. To the naked eye, books upon books laid upon rows and rows of shelves.

As expected of a library.

You looked at Xingqiu and couldn't help but chuckle at the wide-eyed expression he was giving. His mouth also hung open comically.

"Easy now, Xingqiu, don't go drooling all over the floor now." You turned and pointed towards the front desk. "I figure that this place might be too big for you to handle so I trust that any questions you have you'll ask the librari- aaannnnnnnnnd he's gone."

...

You looked away for five seconds and you've already lost the book lover.

Is this how parents feel whenever they lose sight of their kids?

You couldn't help but chuckle as you shook your head. You suppose this was to be expected after all. When Xingqiu sets his sights on a book of choice, there's not much that will drag him away from it.

Knowing that he had no reason to leave the library, you began walking around the building searching for him.

You did find him after a few minutes. He had grabbed a seat on top of a beanbag and was nose deep in a book in his hands. Stacked next to him were a ton of other books that he presumably collected.

However, as you walked closer to him, you could see a troubled expression on his face.

"Is something wrong?" you questioned.

Xingqiu lowered the book from his face. "Sorry, my liege, I seem to be unable to read this. I can't understand any of the words."

...

Ah crap, you forgot about that.

"Do you think you could read this to me?" he asked, handing the book to you.

You nodded. "Sure, I can do that."

Book in hand, you plopped down on another beanbag next to him and started to read. You had no other plans for the day, so you were fine with hanging around the library for a little bit.

---------------------------------------------------------

You didn't feel like going out today. It didn't matter who asked, you were exhausted.

"Hmmm..."

Even if that someone was an over 6,000-year old retired Archon.

To be quite frank, you were terrified to be in Zhongli's presence. Sure, this isn't the first Archon you've met in person, but Venti does a superb job at hiding his status. Nobody can take a look at him and think that he's an Archon.

Zhongli on the other hand, has this imposing aura around him. How does Hu Tao not feel threatened by this man?

"So this is where you're able to guide us from?"

You nodded. "Yes sir."

After showing Zhongli around your apartment, he expressed an interest in seeing the device you use to guide them. Not thinking ahead, and because you were terrified of telling an Archon 'no', you agreed.

...Okay, you did try to tell Venti 'no', but that's different!

Now, you were frantically trying to piece together a convincing story about how your guidance is not part of a video game and everything that they've come to know was written, modeled, and designed by a company. Existential crisis are not fun to deal with.

However, Zhongli isn't stupid. There's a high percent chance he'll see through your lies.

...Basically, you're fucked.

You focused back on the computer. The main menu was playing. You sneaked a peak at Zhongli. He appeared to be lost in thought.

"Need me to explain anything?" you asked, hesitantly.

Zhongli nodded. "Please."

You sighed. Here goes nothing.

"So to start things off, there's this company called Hoyoverse. This company is responsible for maintaining a stable connection between here and Teyvat. That's why you saw their name appear on the screen earlier. This down here is the region that the connection is held. If I click on that, I'm able to change to another region. However, I'm gonna keep it on this one since I get the best connection from there."

"Then below that is my User ID. Going back to Hoyoverse for a moment, it's not just one connection they're responsible for. They're able to hold thousands of connections at once."

You saw Zhongli open his mouth so you stopped talking for a moment. "But I've never known anyone other than you guiding us. How can it be that there are multiple connections to the same place?"

You shook your head. "No, it's not multiple connections to one Teyvat. It's multiple connections to different Teyvats. Think of it as parallel universes if you will. Through this connection, I am able to guide people such as you. However, through another connection, someone else is able to guide another Zhongli. Does that make sense?"

You nearly breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded his head. "I see. Please, continue."

"Right. Next, you have these two buttons over here. If I click on the top one, you'll see ways to interact with other connection members as well as the company itself. Also, you have the fair use statement and terms of service. These are just the rules I need to follow while guiding you guys. If I break any of these rules, my access is revoked and the connection gets terminated."

Zhongli looks at the screen for a brief period before turning to you with his arms crossed. "You say these are rules."

You nodded. "Yes sir."

"...They sound more like contracts to me."

...

"I mean..." you scratched the back of your neck. "I wouldn't say contracts, per se. I guess you could call them... agreements?"

Zhongli raised an eyebrow. "So now they're agreements?"

...

Welp. It was a good run while it lasted.

You sighed heavily and lowered your head in shame. "No. You're right. They're contracts."

Zhongli nodded in agreement. "As I thought."

"Sorry." you apologized.

...

"Do you know what is listed in the contracts?"

You looked up at Zhongli. He still bore a curious expression on his face. There wasn't any anger nor frustration hinted anywhere.

"Ummm... Not really."

Zhongli was quick to furrow his eyebrows. Okay, now he's looking a bit mad. "You signed a contract without reading its contents?"

You scooched your chair a tiny bit away from Zhongli to give you some more space. "Well I mean, yeah, but I'm not the only one who does that. Everyone does! Nobody's got the time nor the patience to read all of that legal jargon."

Zhongli's eyebrows furrowed even further. You might be overexaggerating out of fear, but he looks absolutely pissed. Now would be the best time to make a smart life decision.

"Oh please, Rex Lapis," you pleaded, kneeling on the floor with your hands pressed together in prayer. "I beg for forgiveness, O merciful Archon."

"Spare me your theatrics."

You winced. That didn't work out as well as you hoped.

A couple of seconds passed by before Zhongli let out a deep sigh. "I don't know what you were thinking when you decided to blindly sign multiple contracts.

...

"However, I am willing to go through each contract for you and teach you of anything you should be aware of for now and for the foreseeable future."

...

"...Huh...?"

"You mean... I'm not gonna suffer the Wrath of the Rock?"

"The Wrath of the Rock??" Zhongli asks, flabbergasted. "Did you really think I was going to hurt you?"

...

"Yes..." you answered, meekly.

Zhongli's face softened before he placed a hand on your shoulder. "I would never harm you nor let anyone bring harm to you, [Y/N]. I'd be a fool to do so after all that you have done for my friends, for Liyue, and for Teyvat."

He gave a soft smile. "I'm just letting you know that you should be more careful while signing any contracts in the future. You never know if you're getting a fair agreement if you never read its contents."

You nodded, smile also on your face. "Yes sir, I'll read every contract from now on, sir."

"Good. Now then, would you kindly read the contents of each contract to me. I'll stop you if I need to mention anything worth noting."

You spent the next couple of hours going over each contract, taking notes on anything Zhongli deemed worth remembering. You guess that showing him the actual game will come at a later time.

---------------------------------------------------------

Author Side Notes: Wow that Zhongli bit took up a lot of this. In all honesty, it could probably be it's own thing separate from all of the other shenanigans.

By the way, I imagine that Zhongli uses reading glasses. I don't know why I think that, but I feel like it suits him for some reason.

[surftrips]

BAD REPUTATION | LUKE CASTELLAN

HEARTBREAKER — CHAPTER 02

pairing luke castellan x fem!ares!reader

summary y/n is challenged by campers and her growing feelings for luke castellan.

author's note thank you for all the support on this series! i made a masterlist here so you can easily find the parts <3 as always, comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the taglist and lmk your thoughts :)

→ installment of this au read for context

Luke Castellan found it increasingly harder and harder to hide his feelings for you. He could no longer make eye contact with you without his face turning an embarrassing shade of red. In fact, he could hardly look at your face because somehow his eyes would always end up darting toward your lips, or even lower if you were wearing a certain tank top that day. 

“My eyes are up here, Castellan,” you quipped at him once. 

Quite frankly, it was ruining his own reputation around camp as the best swordsman and a stoic warrior. If word got out that he fell to his knees at the hands of an Ares girl, what would people think of him? 

As stories of your excellent skills got around, so did rumors about you. Everyone was interested to hear whose heart you had broken next, all because of that first fateful incident with a camper named Connor. 

Connor, son of Apollo, thought that he could challenge you to an archery competition. He had bet that if he won, he could take you out on a date. How could you resist the urge to prove him wrong?

A small crowd had gathered to watch the two of you. Some people rooted for Connor, trusting that his combat skills would be stronger because of his father. However, the innate strength and talent from your own godly father allowed you to become familiar with the bow and arrow rather quickly. 

“Careful, or one of your siblings will have to heal you later,” you warned. 

“Oh, I think you’re the one that’s going to end up at my cabin later,” Connor responded snarkily. 

You hated losing. It wasn’t an option for you. You didn’t care that Connor technically had the upper hand here, you were going to beat him regardless. 

The rules were simple: there were four targets. Whoever hit the most points, won. 

Connor went first, hitting an impressive 34 points. 

“Beat that, pretty girl.”

You tried not to cringe at his nickname for you, and confidently walked up to the front. You quickly scanned the crowd, eyes landing on the brunette-haired boy you didn't realize you were looking for. Luke smiled at you, and suddenly everyone else faded away.

Turning back toward the targets, you lined up your bow and arrow and took the first shot. You hit eight points, which was not bad, but you were going to have to do better in order to win.

Trying to hone in on your training, you closed your eyes for the next shot and trusted your instincts. You heard the arrow hitting wood and before you could open your eyes, cheers had erupted from the crowd. Bullseye. 

With 17 points left to beat Connor, you had to hit at least another bullseye. And you did just that. 

Turning to Connor, you said, “Any last words before I take this final shot?” 

“What time am I picking you up tonight?” he said, not losing hope just yet. You had to give it to him and his tireless persistence. 

Your eyes focused in on the last target, until all you could see was the gold center. It kind of looked like the sun, and reminded you of a certain someone. You released the arrow, but at the last second felt your finger flinch.

Shit, you thought. But the crowd had already begun cheering again, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You had hit eight on the last one, just enough to win. 

“Okay, who’s next?” you declared triumphantly, not missing the disappointed look on Connor's face.

After the competition, Luke walked over to congratulate you on your win. 

“Hey, that was sick!” He placed his hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, thanks!”

“You’re not beating yourself up over that last one, are you?”

“Wh- how’d you know?” You were silently cursing yourself for not making that last bullseye and blowing Connor completely out of the water. 

“I know you, Y/N. Don’t look so surprised.” 

“Okay, well, what am I thinking right now?”

“Hmmm,” he pretended to be lost in thought. “Dinner?”

“You know me so well.” 

Ever since then, various people at camp had challenged you to their own duels in an effort to ask you out, just for you to beat them time and time again.

You weren’t sure why anyone thought you would be interested in them, when you had not once expressed a want for any sort of romantic entanglements. Because that’s all they were to you, entanglements. Complicated messes that were hard to get out of.

“Okay, I need boy advice,” Annabeth announced.

“No,” you responded. This was the first of many sleepovers you, her, and Clarisse would have together. 

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“That’s my advice, do yourself a favor and just don’t.” 

“Okay, what’s the story?” the young girl asked. 

“I dated this guy once. Long story short, all men do is disappoint you. It’s not worth it.” 

“I second that,” Clarisse joined in. 

“Wait- who do you like?” you asked, processing Annabeth’s original question.

“Oh, forget it. I’m not gonna tell you guys now,” she responded.

“No, you have to tell us!” Clarisse insisted. 

When Annabeth didn’t respond, you and Clarisse began throwing pillows at her. 

“Stop! Stop!” she giggled. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you guys.” 

You and Clarisse waited with baited breath as Annabeth formed his name in her mouth. “Percy.”

Chaos ensued. You’re pretty sure that you squealed loud enough to break glass and Clarisse nearly woke up the cabin on the other side of camp. Luckily for you guys, it was a weekend that many of the campers had gone home for. 

“Why are you guys cheering?” Annabeth asked, confused.

“Because we’re happy for you! Your first crush is so exciting!” Clarisse said.

Annabeth had always been like a younger sister to you and Clarisse, and you couldn’t help but be happy for her, despite your personal feelings about love. 

“Y/N, what do you think?” Annabeth turned to you. 

“I think you don’t even need our advice. Just be yourself, I’m sure he already thinks you’re amazing.” 

The young girl beamed at you. “I thought you were anti-boys.”

“I am, if it were up to me, there would be no boys here.” 

“Not even Luke?” Annabeth asked, feigning innocence.

“Well, is he a boy?” you responded.

“Yeah, but not just any boy….” Clarisse joined in.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sat up on your elbows in bed. 

“Y/N, just admit it! He’s different!” Annabeth said.

“No, he’s still just a boy,” you said, trying to convince them, or yourself. 

Annabeth and Clarisse looked at each other knowingly, but dropped the subject before upsetting you further. 

The truth was, the thought of Luke Castellan terrified you. 

At first, you didn’t want to admit it. There was no way Luke Castellan liked you, and there was absolutely no way that you liked him back. Not in any universe, above or on earth. Not after you had made it your whole mission to swear off boys completely. 

Sure, you constantly picked each other as partners in Capture the Flag, sat next to each other over bonfires, and talked to each other everyday, but nothing friends didn’t do. 

You tried to be oblivious to his longing glances at you, the way his face lit up when he saw you, but Annabeth and Clarisse were not shy in pointing out each time he smiled at you like you hung the moon and stars. 

For years, Luke had repressed his emotions for fear of being perceived as weak. But each time you came around, he wondered if love could even be equated to weakness if he had never felt anything stronger. 

Liked by lukecastellan and 170 others.

tagged annaaabeth and clarisse

ynuser with the girls 🏹💕

view all comments.

annaaabeth love youuu

clarisse so much fun!

lukecastellan ur foul for that last pic

ynuser whose side are you on

percyjackson second pic is me to you when i don't get invited to the sleepover :(

—

TAGLIST: @ravisinghs-wife @jules-loves-lukecastellan @favreader23 @clydeisalsoellie @yuminako @luxreziaa @eddiesdrummergf @whataprettyshadeofred @grace-928 @girls-and-guts @supercutszns @noodlesketchbook @birdiewriteslit @mitskiswift99 @idontevencare1223 @randomnpc456 @lucycarlisleswife @angelicdanvers @imguce @anitatvd (please lmk if you want to be added or i missed you!)

[xoxoaugust]

at the first glance

prince!reo mikage x lady!reader

(Alludes to Bridgerton-esque themes mostly bc of the time period)

Dearest Gentle Reader,

Time has passed since this author has put pen to paper, but I promise the story I am about to tell you is worth the wait.

Barely friends since childhood, the young prince and the young lady reunite. Lingering stares were simple the beginning of what was to be a grand romance. A romance full of anger, sorrows, and most of all, love.

How does one outrun fate? Do they abandon all they’ve ever known? Defy every rule set in stone? Or do they simply choose the next path?

Prince Reo Mikage, the firstborn son of the Mikages. The heir to the throne. Women threw themselves onto him, likely for the title, money, fame perhaps, but his looks certainly helped. He knew, and that is why, even at the age of twenty and three, he is yet to be wed. People may call it ego or pride, but that could not be further from the true reason.

Being the firstborn, Reo Mikage was always expected to be the best. Second place was not a choice, nor was it even in the picture. Top of his class, excelled in every subject, played as captain on the football team at his prep academy, and now waiting for his title.

He hated it.

What a boring life.

Little did he know, everything would change by nightfall.

The transition between girl to woman, then lady is not for the faint of heart. Hours spent choosing the right dress, the right way to lay your hair, the poise, the particular laugh—not too loud but loud enough to make a man feel good—and the “just-right” smile that felt simply comforting. It can and will wash away at any kind of true feeling.

You, the firstborn of four children, one brother and two sisters, destined to marry a rich man and make all the other ladies even more jealous. Top of your class, excelled in every subject, deemed a role model.

The perfect girl, born to be a lady, or so everyone thinks. Sure, you may be the labeled as the picture perfect wife, but marriage was not your desire. Refusing marriage was not a guise to feel different or progressive, rather you wanted a life of your own. Your inheritance was enough for you and three generations forward to last with fulfilling lives. So, here you are, at the age of twenty and one, still unmarried, how horrid.

So, how did the pretentious young soon-to-be king and the wasted potential soon-to-be spinster curate a love story for the ages?

Fate.

Queen Mikage, the woman she is.

Hosting the first ball of the season, as she does every season.

Girls and their mothers running to the seamstresses to meticulously select the dress that will best capture a lord, or maybe even a prince. Your mother was one of them. Running around dressing your two younger sisters, Kiyoko sixteen, and Koyuki seventeen.

You watch as she picks which color best suits the tone of their skin, what style of hair best suits the dress, and what jewels stand out.

You on the other hand, watching, still in your nightgown.

“[name], you ought to get dressed! It is not two hours before the ball. I cannot have you looking like a mess!” Your mother lightly scolded.

You sighed and nodded before stretching your arms and walking back to your room. You looked into your closet, eyeing which dress would likely look effortless.

Bingo.

You usually have your maid, Charlotte, dressing you, however, you requested otherwise, it was not like you still a child. You allowed for their help since they insisted helping you with the jewelry.

“My lady, would this be of your taste?”

Charlotte holds up the dark amethyst necklace, one large violet stone in the middle, then slowly getting smaller going back and lined with diamonds. You nodded as she clipped the necklace into place and put on the matching set of earrings and a bracelet.

The jewelry matched your dress perfectly.

The dress was dark blue-purple with a slight train, sleeves slightly puffed, and lilac lace embroidery all over the dress.

“Mama! How long must you take? It has been an hour!” You exclaimed out into the echoey hallways. As you spoke, your father and your brother walk out of the study.

Your father stares at you, then to the door you were calling to.

“Still not ready?” He sighs.

“Not even close.” You laugh

“Oh dear god.” Your brother breathily laughs.

You and your father, while not exactly the most communicative, felt at ease with one another even in silence. He wasn’t the typical man, and you knew. He didn’t mind you not getting married, in response, he taught you how to be independent. He was willing to increase your inheritance, but even with the current amount, you would have no issue with finance. From an outsiders view, you could be considered an atypical family. The men were more feminine, teaching the girls business instead of simply sending them off for marriage. It was out of the ordinary, but your family was bonded in ways a regular person could never understand.

When your mother was finally done preparing your sisters, the carriage took off, heading for the palace.

The carriage ride was…interesting. Your sisters checking the hand mirror at least a dozen time per minute. You and your brother glance at each other before snorting under your breath.

Your twin brother, Chigiri Hyoma, you two had always gotten along, he had always been on the more feminine side, of course having three sisters would do the trick. He was a bit rough around the edges, short-tempered at times, a bit audacious too. Nonetheless, he was a kind boy, always looking out for your younger sisters Koyuki and Kiyoko.

As the carriage arrived at the palace ballroom entrance, you let out a sigh of an acceptance. Acceptance that this was going to be the most boring night of your life.

Koyuki and Kiyoko rustled out the carriage, fixing their dresses before walking up to the entrance gracefully alongside your mother. You and Hyoma entered the hall together, passing knowing looks. You ended up following Hyoma to his group since your friend Anri hadn’t shown up yet.

Walking over, you’re met with many familiar faces. Faces seen rolling around in the dirt playing football as children, faces now matured. As you approached, the five other boys men looked up to greet you with welcoming smiles.

As children, Hyoma and his friends were inseparable, still inseparable even now. This often meant that they were always playing in your family estate. Football, rugby, pall-mall occasionally, you had always been there.

Though you never participated in the activities, since that would just be unladylike, you would simply converse with the group.

And by converse I mean gossip.

Out of his six friends, the one who had always listened to what you had to say was Kunigami Rensuke.

A kind young man, bright orange hair now faded to a deep bronze, chiseled facial structure, sturdy tall build and very chivalrous. He always had a strong sense of justice, there was a period in time where he became cold and abrasive, but he eventually had returned to his normal sweet self. Out of the five boys, you liked him the most. Hyoma and Rensuke were the best of friends, thus why you were also close to him.

The next one in the group: Isagi Yoichi, the one who brought them all together. He was the glue that held everyone together, he was the one who had built this group, in a sense. All the boys had passion for football, and Yoichi was always there to push them forward, in a supportive and extremely competitive way. He was more delicate. Round eyes and cheeks, sturdy but slim and shorter, and dark features.

Bachira Meguru, the playful one. Short, sweet, and very energetic. You had always liked him, you had always thought he was too hyper for his own good. Though he was your age, he had always looked up to you. He thought you were admirable and wise, always immersed in your conversation, when he’s not distracted by something or falling asleep.

Rin Itoshi, the stoic one. Rin had always been quiet and simple. You had always appreciated his presence, his conversation was never considered time wasted. He was tall, slime but strong, dark handsome features and prominent lashes. You understood him quite well. Though you weren’t close, you know that his cold demeanor was a facade. A shield. He was kind, gentle, and considerate when needed to be.

Nagi Seishiro, the lazy one. You never understood this strange gentleman. He was tall, sturdy, and had white locks and curious eyes. He was a strange boy, kind but unbelievably sluggish. Lazy and unmotivated, but still, an adorable soul regardless of his…tendencies to do absolutely nothing, but sleeping.

Only five of the six boys were presented in front of you, the sixth was missing, and for obvious reasons.

For the next half hour, you simply talked and talked, catching up with all of them, it had been a year since you last saw them. Life had gotten busy.

Deep in conversations with old friends, you failed to sense the presence behind you.

Nagi looks up, eyes widening before speaking (for the first time all night).

“Wow, Reo I did not expect you to be here.” Nagi deadpanned, not in a mean way, but just unbothered.

Your shoulder hitch up, before turning around to meet Reo’s eyes, just to see him already staring right at you.

Reo Mikage, the prince. You did not have anything else to call him, because he was always dragged out of the hangouts. You maybe had a few interactions, a few shared laughs but you hadn’t seen him in years. Seven years to be exact. You remembered his purple hair, and that he was very close to Nagi. You honestly did not care much for him, he was always pulled away for piano practice or some kind of princely activities. You didn’t know him at all.

He steps over to the spot right in between you and Kunigami.

“Well of course I would be here, this is my home.” He laughed in such a genuine manner.

“Well you have not shown up for the last ten balls that her majesty has hosted, and they were all in this very room.” Hyoma joked.

Reo laughs while looking down at the ground, then he looks up and over to you.

“Wow, it has been a while, I have not seen you in ages!” He exclaimed, while his eyes wandered upon you in an unsubtle manner.

You noticed the glance he gave you, and you laughed a bit to yourself before responding with

“I could say the same thing for you, your royal highness.” You stated, slight sarcasm laced in your words while you did a playful curtsy, eliciting a laugh from Reo and the others.

You had always known that Reo was like a magnet, attracting people towards him with an infallible force. His charismatic and welcoming nature did not fail to impress, and it certainly had impressed you.

The entire night, you had felt his presence. Watching you, observing every little detail. You had not a clue as to why he was so intrigued by your existence, but it was starting to get a bit awkward.

As you stepped onto the dance floor once again, you felt a presence behind you.

“May I have this dance?”

Oh dear god.

xoxo, august

an: this is the first part to the “I wanna be yours” series, this part is kinda buns but I promise it will get better

LOVE YALL

[matchalovertrait]

Let's do this! (Finally!)

NOTE: Antoinette Wolff is from @deardiaryts4's Detective Wolff Story! Now, I know what you're thinking: "That's not Antoinette!"

No. It's not. I tried remaking her and that was the result </3 but anyway, Antoinette is here to save the day!!! She is amazing.

This post was a collab with Zen. She wrote all of Antoinette's lines :)

NOTE: For any new readers, Dulce was on a cooking competition show when she was much younger! It was based on Chopped Jr., lol. The first post of that is here. The SparkNotes of that arc is here.

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

Bonus scenes cuz we're on a lil time crunch:

[After Antonio’s conversation with Frankie, he decided he should not be make the final decisions for the remainder of the trial. He didn’t trust himself, so a new head was appointed by him: Antoinette Wolff.]

[The emergency meeting was about to begin. Antoinette was prepared despite being asked to take over less than 24 hours ago. She was always dependable and diligent.]

[Antonio knew he could confide in her. Still, to protect her from perjury, he didn’t go into full detail on how they retrieved the notebook.]

[Everyone was still settling down when something outside caught Antonio’s eye.]

[It looked like Dulce arrived.]

DULCE: Auntie Hilary, what do you mean you don’t want me to pay you back?

HILARY: It’s fine. I know you’ve been feeling guilty about what happened, but I couldn’t be prouder.

DULCE: What...?

HILARY: At least you didn’t end up marrying the guy. I’m still in my loveless marriage, but guess what? I think I’m feeling inspired to divorce Hector now.

TEODOR: Oye, where’s the Antonio fellow at? I feel like everyone has met him except for me! The family loves him.

DULCE: Oh, he’s at a meeting right now, Tío.

ANTOINETTE: ..I strongly believe that if we pursue this argument regarding Ms. Alegría’s case, we have this in the bag.

ANTOINETTE: I’ve emailed you all my research and findings surrounding this case. I suggest you read and re-read it ‘til you can memorize it like the back of your hand.

ANTOINETTE: Ms. Alegría is counting on us, and more importantly, Romero really needs our support right now.

ANTONIO: Thank you, Antoinette. You’re an exemplary leader with excellent strategies.

[Antonio turned his attention to the rest of the team.]

ANTONIO: Ms. Alegría’s Diced Junior competitors-turned-friends were to take the stand. However, now we have the notebook and will follow through with Antoinette’s new plan today and tomorrow. I will still be the one representing the client in court, too.

RUBIYA: I might not be taking the stand anymore, but I’m not about to miss out on this!

LEWIS: Is it really okay for Dulce to wear that outfit in court?

YOLTIC: Yes! Actually, the typical rules don’t apply to celebrities, even up-and-coming ones. If anything, dressing more traditionally counts against them.

ALEX: Del Sol Valley is weird.

RUBIYA: Yeah, there’s plenty of room at my place for you and Dulce! I’ll show you two all around Japan. Any places in particular you want to see?

DANI: I’d be happy with anything! Any places you want to see here in Del Sol Valley?

RUBIYA: Oooo any places with good tacos, really.

[assumptionprime]

Finished 7.0 last night!

Overall I like Dawntrail! The stretch from the Rite of Succession finishing kind of limply until the dome appears is an awkward transition, but it picks back up.

Also figured out what I was bothered by with Sphene it's not just that her goal is similar to Emet's, it's that the two are thematically the same idea. They are both trapped in their inability to let go of the past. The last area in 5.0 and 7.0 are going through recreations of their worlds as they knew them, the final dungeons are both fighting through a recreation of how they ended.

And I'm not even an Emet-Selch fan, but... I think Emet did it better. And this is partly because I hated him as a character for most of the time he was there.

I know it has its flaws, but I really like Stormblood, especially the patches. I was really invested in the storylines of Doma and Ala Mhigo, and in the story of Garlemald. Ghimlyt Dark, the meeting with the Emperor, it's great. Then there's Emet-Fucking-Selch. He comes in and reveals that the colonizing, fascistic empire was actually founded by an evil shadow wizard specifically to be evil. Lame. Lame! Humans will make fascist evil empires all on our own! We don't need shadow wizards to convince us to do it!

So then we're whisked off to the First and the Garlemald story gets screeching halted for us to go deal with another dimension and Emet-Selch. He gives speeches about how we mortals are terrible and do awful things to each other and it's all pretty undercut for me by the fact that he and the shadow wizards have been behind every major antagonist so far. Eventually he's hanging around in the party being catty, and that's fun, especially since its extremely clear he's gonna be the final boss and I get to kill him. Cannot wait. I still saw him as the symbol of this diversion away from the story I was invested in.

I tell you all this so you understand that it's a real turnaround when I say that the ending of Shadowbringers *hits* for me. We walk through the nostalgic grief-diorama of a man who has stewed in his loss for ten thousand years, he shows us how he lost everything he loved, and how he'll stop at nothing to get it back. We even get a glimpse into it that he didn't intend, when his recreation of Hythlodaeus reveals that he knows. Emet apparently thinks very little of anyone, but we meet the shade of someone he knew so well, thought so highly of, the he could not help but think that even his shade would figure out what was happening. It's a hint, the lightest touch, to imply and reveal so much about him. There was a real Hythlodaeus once, and however telling this shade of him might be, we can only ever see the shade. We can never know who he was, what their world was truly like. It's all gone. And that's why Emet-Selch is like this.

Emet-Selch, and by extension most of the Ascians, become actual characters here. Up to this point they were cackling evil wizards who only knew how to cast Ultima, eat hot chip, and lie. But now they're doing all of this to bring back their world. Their people. They put forward the whole "we have goals beyond your mortal comprehension" front, but Emet has let you behind the curtain to see who they really are. They're grief, nostalgia, desperation.

And as soon as he's become a person, it's time for him to die. There's no way around it. You both want to save your worlds, but saving yours means damning his as surely as resurrecting his means damning yours.

So you have your massive over the top Final Fantasy boss fight, strike the killing blow, and he turns from the giant monster sorcerer back into a man, and asks you to remember him, his people. That once, they lived. You know that memory is all he's had for all this time, it's the most important thing to him.

I hated him! I hated the story he was in! And then they made me like him! At the same time I killed him! What an incredible feat of writing!

(I hope they don't undercut that excellent ending for Emet and the subtle tragedy of Hythlodaeus by bringing them back for a whole zone next expansion)

Sphene is a well done character, I like her. But on top of being the second exploration of a character that will destroy the world because of their inability to let go, she doesn't have that turn from hate to sympathy right at the end that makes Emet stick for me.

[utilitycaster]

I remember a post you made about how Sam is good at flavoring mechanics story wise, like singing his bardic inspirations, and a different post you made about how Marisha has seemed to struggle a bit with character motivations, and also how Laura was being conflict averse this campaign. What do you think each player’s biggest strengths and weaknesses are?

I think I may have answered this elsewhere but it's certainly not tagged in a useful manner and I am currently on a train meandering through the dumb state of Connecticut so:

Sam is as mentioned very good at knowing what makes a good story and specifically good entertainment. However, I think he tends to be one of the cast members who most wants very clear GM guidance; his boldest move was in fact one that required GM involvement and pre-approval. Honestly these are two sides of the same coin; caring about the audience is good, but caring too much can be an issue.

Marisha, yeah, I think tends to lean towards very loose/find it along the way character concepts and I think she actually does better when there is a stronger structure for her character. I'm going to be honest - prior to Campaign 3 I'd say her strength was interpersonal relationships, and to be fair the interpersonal aspect in C3 for everyone was kind of a mess so it's not specifically her (and if future works are good I'll write it off as just One Bad Campaign/specific to one character and return to this as her strength), but as is, not so much as a player, but I do genuinely believe she is excellent at creative direction. I think her switch to pandemic programming was one of the strongest and smoothest I saw in the actual play industry (granted, limited) and I think most shows CR has done that haven't gone over well have been issues of scheduling or uh. fandom entitlement, more than any missteps on her part.

Laura's weakness is definitely nonconfrontation/worrying that she is doing the right thing. (She and Sam are not dissimilar in that, but Sam counterbalances it by embracing failure and she also struggles with letting a character fail). Marisha benefits from structure, as with Keyleth, and Laura benefits from having a character that either lets her turn those anxieties off, like Jester, or who leans into that being the character's fear, like Vex. Her strength is that she is one of the strongest actors in the cast if not the strongest (Laura, Travis, and Ashley tend to top my personal list in terms of sheer acting chops). Even when I've found her characters frustrating I've found her acting compelling, hence what I said about soap operas that one time.

Liam's weakness is, and this is extremely a personal preference - all are, but whereas I can make a semi-objective case for many of the others this is just me, being sappy as hell. I had difficulty with Vax for this precise reason while still generally enjoying the character's motivation and arc; Liam is in my opinion at his best when he deliberately goes for more restrained or antagonistic characters. Like, there's a time to be big and cheesy (eg, the final scene switch of friends around a table in the Chicago live show) but my taste is more sparing perhaps than most (for metaphorical cheese. not for real cheese). His strength I think is also kind of the flip of this coin; he is exceptionally collaborative. I think it's no coincidence that the twins and Caleb and Veth are two of the most enduring duos of "characters who came in together" or that he's managed to do successful romances with NPCs or with a guest actor; during C1 and C2 he was really good at drawing in Ashley when she returned from extended absences.

Taliesin's strength is that he has some of the most interesting and weird character concepts that lend humanity to people who would often be denied it by a narrative - the creator of a horrible weapon; someone literally without a soul; a gutter punk - and he commits to them whole-heartedly, even the uglier parts. I think his weakness is honestly kind of similar to Matt's DM weakness, which is that he straight up has maybe a completely random chance of properly clocking someone else's character's motivations. Like, either he absolutely gets it (eg, Vex) or he says things on Talks or 4SD about other people's characters that make me go "????" and then the actor for the other character goes "????" and I'm like oh ok I'm not wrong. (This perhaps most easily demonstrated with Shardgate, which, great moment, absolutely tops, but the fact that Taliesin the Player thought Matt was doing anything BUT signaling "DON'T FUCKING DO THIS" is ????? to me and always will be; I cannot see how he could have made that more clear.)

Travis, frankly, just Gets It, like, I think the Age of Umbra session zero is demonstrative of him just being able to immediately get to the core of a work. He's strong mechanically, he's strong as an actor, he is able to generate plot hooks from pretty much anything (RIP sidequests from Novos, in a different campaign you would have been great), and he is unafraid to take big swings. He's definitely made choices I am personally less into, but honestly my only real criticism is that he sometimes plays a more jokey character in between the Fjord, Cerrit, Nathaniel types that I prefer (and even then, Grog and Chetney go at least five times harder then their concepts would imply, and it is an error to dismiss them as jokes).

Ashley is also as mentioned a very strong actor, and I also think she is unheralded as a worldbuilder for her characters; Pike, Yasha, and Fearne all have characters or locations associated with them who, even when she's had limited screentime or the story has followed other paths, feel incredibly real. I also think that she's grown a lot mechanically over the course of C3 and shows a lot of promise and I'm interested in seeing what she does with Daggerheart. I think she can be indecisive; as mentioned, I don't really blame her in C3 for a number of reasons not to mention she does a great job of integrating that as a character concept, but I really do want to see her make bolder moves.

[ladyhallen]

Solving the Wonder Woman Problem

So, for the past few days, I've been reading DC (specifically batman) and PJO crossover.

Let me preface this in that I only vaguely know people's origin stories in DC and that I mostly know PJO, even if slightly faded since I haven't read it in a while. I'm basing Wonder Woman's origin story from the movies.

Now, it's a delicious crossover. There's heroes (JL) and then there's Heroes (PJO Demigods). These nice, morally upright people might also have some opinion on the survival rates on demigod children, child neglect, etc. And there's also the potential hilarity of these two worlds interacting, because some abilities these kids have are just straight up terrifying and we need some normal people reactions to this shit.

But, and it's a small but, I've noticed a glaring issue.

And Yes, it's Wonder Woman.

Look, in Diana's origin story, she was crafted from clay, given life by Zeus himself and stuff. Okay, cool.

However, if both these worlds exist in the same plane of existence, it also presents a problem. Because why would Diana, who left Themyscira (who has her mother, and her sisters and was basically paradise) to fight for the good of the world of man(which, arguably, is not paradise. It's very far from it.), leave these underaged heroes to fight two wars with basically no support? Hmm?

Most authors I've found, would either do the following:

Make Diana unaware that the demigods exist, which. HMM. Sus.

Make Diana Not Care/Not Realize that the Second Titanomachy and the Second Gigantomachy was actually the war these kids were fighting.

Make Her be OffWorld at the time. (Which I haven't seen many people do?

You can see the problem.

Solution:

The Romans.

No no, don't boo. I'm not done, I'm not crazy, I have a point!

Let me Just paint the scenario for you.

It's WWII, and Diana is newly arrived to the World of Man, and she decides to fight in the war.

In the PJO books, it was said that the involvement of the demigods caused the war to escalate to crazy proportions, so it's not out of left pocket for Diana and some demigods to meet, do the spiderman pointing meme, and then realize some truths here.

But here's the thing.

What if the demigods she meets are Roman demigods?

Think about it. Those Roman kids thrive on structure. On orders. On following rules. There's only two ways a kid raised on that kind of environment would go. One, they would go completely the opposite way and be a wildcard and follow no rules, or Two, they would find comfort in the rigid structure of rules all their life.

Ergo, Roman demigods would mostly thrive in bootcamp and would probably excel at it. And then Meet Diana.

They become friends, etc, etc. It's a whole montage of two people realizing that they can relate to weird upbringings. Gotcha. (I mean, their demigod children, if not up to standards, are eaten by Lupa, WTF)

Now, how would the Romans lead to Diana not wanting to get involved in demigod affairs now?

Let's see, they called their city in Camp Jupiter New Rome. What did Rome have? A lot of assassinations, backstabbing and power grabbing. There were schemes and shit. Octavian was not an outlier, he was probably the mouthpiece a lot of discontented people in the senate.

In the PJO lore, it was said that the American Revolution was devastating to both camps, because they didn't get a long and it was implied that the Original Festus fell because the camp was invaded. Thalia's tree didn't exist yet and so the magical border of the camp didn't exist either.

Bunker Nine's existence indicates that perhaps each of the gods have their own separate buildings. Maybe Cabin 6 had a library rivaling Alexandria, maybe Cabin 12 had a vineyard and sold wines. Who knows, perhaps Cabin 3 had a waterpark to help troubled ocean animals.

But the thing is, Bunker Nine's existence can stretch that to maybe, New Athens existing. Maybe there used to be a space for Greek demigods existing. Maybe that space was destroyed when the Romans invaded.

What makes the Roman-Greek war so hard and devastating, is that both sides have advantages and disadvantages over the other.

The Romans have a clear line of command, structure, they recruit from legacies etc. It also means they don't really think on the fly once command structure is broken.

On the other hand, the Greeks are descended more closely from the gods, and thus have stronger powers. They also don't always get along and sometimes work at cross purposes when irked (see, Apollo Cabin and Ares Cabin in TLO).

Enter Diana.

Look, I know I know that people's memories were erased so that both camps didn't know of the other's existence and that the American Revolution was entirely earlier than World War 2, but memories being erased doesn't erase entirely written records. War has transcripts, logs and maybe someone left a diary. Maybe someone figures it out. Maybe there's a second to the last Invasion of Camp Half Blood.

Picture this, one enterprising Roman Senator invites Diana during the invasion. Someone uses the Mist on Diana so she doesn't realize that she's fighting children.

Once the fighting ends and the haze of battle disappears, Diana realizes that she's devastated New Athens to rubble and weeps, realizing that she's been used.

Then and there, Diana swears on the River Styx that she won't interfere in demigod fights unless the gods themselves order her to.

This doesn't stop her from making safe spaces for demigods, but fighting for them? NOPE. Unless there's a direct order form on high, she won't do it. She's learned that lesson. She won't do it again.

Now, in the TLO, during the second Titanomachy, demigods do try to contact her, but she ain't falling for that again. No sirree. Chiron does a facepalm like, right, I forgot she swore on the Styx. He explains. The kids are devastated but understand. Lots of resentment, but they understand.

Now, the gods are lowkey aware of her, and that she could help. They assumed she would help. But they are not aware of her oath and are doing the pikachu surprised face when they seal Typhon and find no Diana helping the demigods defend Olympus.

I'm just saying. It's the Romans fault.

[pelideswhore]

If the apple of discord was thrown down at the wedding feast of Peleus and Thetis, how did Achilles, their son, fight in the Trojan war? The timeline does not make sense to me unless you just chalk that up to the timing of the Eternal, Deathless Gods but mortals are involved. Like Paris is presumably asked right after the wedding to judge who gets the apple then he picks Aphrodite who has promised him the most beautiful woman. Does she like wait to find out who that is and that causes the delay? The story seems to go that she promises Helen, they kidnap Helen and then the war begins so like that’s a year tops in my mind but how would that give Achilles time to become the teenager he is in the war? Please help. If there is a definitive answer excellent but I also just want theories.

i really love love love this question, cus i’ve thought about it a lot, especially because i consider Paris and Achilles to be around the same age, which, as you said, would make no sense.

sadly, i don’t have a definitive answer, but i do have a theory. it’s quite long though so buckle up.

As you probably know, Aphrodite, Hera and Athena asked Zeus to solve the issue before resorting to Paris. Zeus couldn’t answer and by the timeline of the Gods, many mortal years had passed so Paris would have been born, sent away from the palace and had enough time to grow up at this point. Ares suggests him, the goddesses ask and Paris gets bribed. But he doesn’t take Helen straight away, because he’s still a goatherd at this point.

Before I finish with that, let’s get back to Achilles. One would probably assume that within the first year of Thetis’ and Peleus’ marriage, he was already born, but that’s actually not true. The couple had six sons before Achilles, but they all passed away somehow (which, i like to think, is the reason Thetis is so protective). That means, even if they all died on Day 1 of their life and Thetis conceived the very same day: 9 months x 6 = 54 months aka. 4,5 years. That’s at least 4 and a half years before Achilles was born, but I think I can safely assume it took a little longer. Let’s say 6 years (which btw is still unrealistic and would probably be horrible for Thetis’ health but I digress).

So now, Achilles is born, stuff happens: Achilles meets Phoenix and Patroclus, he gets sent to Chiron, and eventually Scyros etc. Let’s say he’s 17 when that happens. Still a teen, but old enough to get Deidamia pregnant. Realistically, Thetis would only send him away when the threat of the war is imminent, so Helen’s kidnapping happens when Achilles is 17. I tend to say Helen was around 24, Paris was maybe 21. I believe however that the Judgement of Paris happened a couple years before.

Because, consider, Paris picks Aphrodite as a goatherd, but he kidnaps Helen as a prince. So somewhere in between, Cassandra must've found him and brought him back. He then had to get used to royal life, but, more importantly, all the ships had to be ready to go to Sparta. It could've happened in a couple of days, but a couple of years isn't unrealistic either, and it fits the timeline better.

It's a bit all over the place, so here's summary:

0 years: Peleus' and Thetis' wedding, Golden Apple incident (Paris/Achilles not born)

2 years: Paris is born and abandoned.

6 years: Achilles is born.

19 years: The Judgement of Paris happens, Paris is still a goatherd.

23 years: Paris kidnaps Helen, start of the war, Achilles is aged 17

The only time ‘divine timing’ really plays a role is between the wedding the Judgement of Paris. In divine timing 19 years is nothing, just enough time for Zeus and Ares to get involved. Paris would’ve probably already held one or two bullfights at the age of 17 when he is chosen to judge between the goddesses and from then on everything runs pretty smoothly, bearing in mind the 4 years between Aphrodite promising Helen to him and Paris actually kidnapping Helen.

sorry it took so long to post this, had to get my thoughts in check then type it up :D

[plussizefantasia]

Unsure Hearts

Read Part One Here: Fluttering Hearts

Warnings: Reader gets grabbed, alcohol, I think that's it tbh

an: heyyyy... sorry I was MIA, lots of stuff going on I'll post an update about it soon. In the meantime enjoy part two of the Kili x reader fic from Flufftober. I think this will be a five-part fic including an epilogue and the next two parts are already underway. I've also got some requests ready to be edited and posted soon. Thank you for bearing with me, much love <3

Kili Durin x Human!Soulmate!reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Thorin was getting worried, Kili had become somewhat of a ghost story over the past month. He had assumed that his nephew was simply doing his duty. Kili had volunteered to be the envoy between Dale and Erebor for the discussions of armament and training. However, that treaty was signed a week ago, and said envoy position was no longer needed. So why in all of Arda was Kili still going to Dale every day? The young prince left as soon as he was finished with his daily tasks and didn’t return to the mountain until well after the sun had set. Thorin was not worried for his nephew's safety, after all, Kili was an excellent warrior and could take care of himself, no, Thorin was worried for Kili’s heart. 

Fili had also noticed his brother’s absence but the blonde prince had always been a bit more perceptive than his surly uncle. Fili had noticed that Kili was missing, but he also noticed that every time he returned to the mountain it was with the most dopey grin that he had ever seen. A grin that he recognized, for it had also graced his face a few months ago when he met his beloved Alma. Fili would bet his beard on it, Kili was in love.

You on the other hand were getting more and more annoyed each time the brown-haired dwarf walked through the front door. He was charming sure, and polite. But he stared. At you. The whole time he was there. And he was there a lot. His attempts to engage you in conversation were far and few between, the few times he was able to grab your attention away from the bustling building he became tongue-tied the moment your eyes landed on his.

Kili didn’t understand why he couldn’t say more than a few words to you without choking on his words. Your eyes had to hold some kind of spell within them. They enchanted him and left him bewitched every time he caught their gaze. It left him frustrated, he had never had this much trouble with women before, why were you so different? Deep down he knew though, you weren’t just any woman. He was afraid though, afraid that naming what you were to him out loud would make it real. And when it is real, it can hurt you. 

There weren’t very many stories on One’s where the love didn’t end up requited, either because it just simply never happened. Dwarves were incredibly stubborn creatures after all, and it was entirely possible that they just wore down their other half until some sort of connection formed. It was also possible that those unfortunate few who weren’t able to woo their other half died of broken hearts. The former was unlikely as Kili kept having to remind himself, he couldn’t die of a broken heart. Right?

He was determined tonight though, to find out definitively if the sparks he felt for you were just interest in the handsome woman from Bree, or if you truly were the other half of his soul. To do that though he would need to say more than a few words to you. The problem with that was that you seemed exceptionally busy tonight.

Busy you were, Brant had told you last night that he was going to be leaving today to go to visit family for some type of emergency. 

“If the place is still standing when I get back, we’ll talk more about it becoming yours someday.” He had said. You were hoping that that ‘someday’ was sooner rather than later. Brant was getting up there in years. Just last week he had hurt himself trying to lift one of the barrels of ale that had been shipped in from the Iron Hills. You had been taking on more and more of his old tasks and to be completely honest, it felt like you did the job of an owner anyway, just without all the benefits.

You weren’t going to let the man down though, even if it did mean rushing back and forth all night trying to keep up with demand all by yourself.

“Another! Y/N,” was yelled in front the back of the room. Roland was a boisterous man who got along with everyone, he was only a year or two older than you and was currently on his eighth pint of the night. He had a large countenance and seemed to fill up whatever space he occupied, he was handsome but the more and more he drank the less his looks mattered. Usually, this is the point in the night where he starts bordering more on unruly rather than fun-loving. Nevertheless, he was a paying customer and as long as he could still walk on his own out the doors, you weren’t going to say no to his money.

You grabbed another pint glass and poured one for him, balancing it and several other drinks on a tray. You steeled yourself with a deep breath before running back out into the fray. 

Walking close to the stool he was sat on you leaned slightly over him and placed his pint down on the counter beside him. He was engrossed in the conversation between the large group of men, something about the best way to skin a buck, you weren’t really listening. As you grabbed his empty glass to take back to the kitchen to be washed, his large hand encircled your wrist none too gently.

“A pint is a wonderful thing, but it is even more delicious when served by a beautiful lady,” He whispered into your ear. You grit your teeth and roughly pull your hand back. 

“Now, Roland, what have we said about touching things that don’t belong to you? Huh? Touch the wrong thing and you might just lose your hand.” You spit back at him. Cutting your eyes up at the mounted swords that rest above the fireplace only a few steps from where the two of you are. “I’d hate to have to clean those swords, they are sharp.” You look back into his eyes, satisfied with the fear that you see within them. You stand back up and place your tray back upon your shoulder. 

“Anything else I can get you gents?” You question the other men scattered about the space. Silence reigned over the air for a few moments. 

“Alrighty then.” 

A pint here, a glass of wine there, and two hot meals delivered later, your tray was empty and everyone in the place seemed momentarily satisfied. 

 Letting out a breath you lean up against the counter.

“What did you say to him?” A somewhat familiar voice pipes up beside you. You turn your head towards the voice. It's the dwarf prince, and you are once again struck with just how handsome he is. You are also struck with the familiar feeling of annoyance, of course, he picked now to talk to you. Just when you had finally afforded yourself a break.

“Hmm?” You raise a singular eyebrow at him. “Who?”

“That large and very drunk man in the back, I couldn’t hear what you said but I could see the look on his face. It was similar to my brother’s when our mother would scold him for forgetting his manners.”

“That’s not too far off actually, Roland over there got a little too comfortable and touched something that didn’t belong to him, I had to remind him of the rules.”

“And what exactly did he touch that was so forbidden?” The prince smirks and laughs.

You smirk back and lift a glass to your lips before uttering one single word, “Me.”

All of the laughter drained from Kili’s face, “He touched you?” His voice had gotten much lower, his eyes darkened right before you.

 You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to stop you right there Your Highness, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years. I don’t need some man, no matter how handsome he is coming to defend my honor every time I’m even remotely slighted. The trail of bodies will get far too long.” You stare into his eyes as you speak, putting all the righteous fury you’ve got stored inside into each word. 

Seconds tick by before he opens his mouth to speak again.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I think that we have bigger problems if that is the only thing you got from that.” You took another sip.

“No, no, no I got the point, you don’t need a big strong man to come to your rescue. Lucky for you, I am not big.”

The laugh that sprung from the back of your throat caught you off guard, you slap a hand over your mouth in an impossible effort to catch it and shove it back inside. He was funny, he had never been funny before.

Kili liked your laugh even though it was closer to a snort than an actual laugh, and he would be foolish to ignore the way his heart picked up at the thought that he was the one who made you laugh.

“You- I- I have never heard of a dwarf who makes fun of themselves, in my limited experience your lot are very prideful.”

“Not as prideful as some other races, I should think.”

“No, you’re not nearly as prideful as the pointy-eared bastards who hole themselves up in that accursed forest.” Your words held a healthy amount of rage as well as teasing.

“I sense that there is a story there somewhere.” Kili raised an eyebrow, mimicking your face from earlier. He was desperately trying not to think about the fact that this was the longest conversation the two of you had had up to date.

“One that I’m going to need a lot more liquid courage before divulging, I’m afraid.”

“We can make that happen.” Kili wiggled his eyebrows and pointed at the bottles of liquor behind the bar that separated the two of you.

At that very moment, a shout from the rowdy bunch of men in the back rang out, calling for another round.

“Duty calls your highness, but perhaps I will tell you that story… another time.” You winked at him and grabbed for your tray again, beginning to load it up once more. If that is how conversations with the dwarf prince went all the time, you wouldn’t mind having them more often.  

You walked away before Kili could come up with a response, but he was more certain than he ever had been that your heart called to his. Why else would the very sight of you walking away feel like his heart was leaving too?

Read Part 3 here: Troubled Hearts

tags: @bunnybabe-babydoll @kokochanel111 @shiinata-library @oneiratxxia10

[dragon-toad]

Hot take, but I think K-Pop Demon Hunters is overrated.

(TW : I'm going to express a nuanced opinion on kpdh, if you can't read a meta where I nuance my opinion on a popular media, don't bother and scroll, it will save you time)

Before anything else, I precise that I do not hate the movie, I even really liked it, and it was factualy a very good movie. In term of animation, it was very excellent, and the musics were top tier (yes all of them. I may have been clear about my feelings on Your Idol, I still find it pretty good, just less than the others). It was a great movie.

The themes of the movie are very interesting, the idea of identity, being who you are, being accepted, redemption, etc. I'm not going to do a meta on it because other people have done it already and better than I could ever do, but it was cool.

However.

However, if we have to talk about the script's quality, we can discuss.

Just like in multiple shows/movies/etc, the ideas were very good, the execution... Less (and even then, the execution in kpdh was pretty good).

First, as a lot of you have noticed already, the movie was too short. I think it's even it's fatal flaw. It was too short for the story it had to tell, it went too fast, we missed some scenes and contexts to make a real masterpiece of this movie.

Something else that bothered me was the exploitation of the characters. It was all for Rumi and Jinu and nothing for the others (you know I'm true, we have almost nothing about Zoey and Mira, only like, 3 sentences and deductions from the Golden video, and don't get me started on the Saja Boys). I was very very disappointed to see that Rumi was the only main protagonist. Once again, the leader has everything and her partners are just here to support her.

If course we had development for Mira and Zoey, we had issues and character growth, and it's more and better pictures than a lot of shows. But compare their screentime to Rumi's. The girls' development was partially off-screen, which sucks when Rumi had that much screentime. (Once again, it is a consequence of the short movie)

And the Saja Boys barelly have a name, we don't have anything about their personalities and story, no storyline, nothing. (Romance has only 1 line and like 0 personality, for example. Abby is nothing beyond his abs, Mystery's only line is 1 fucking bark, Baby is the only almost developed and we have almost nothing on him)

And the plot. I'm sorry but the plot was so cliché. The Rujinu romance was so previsible that it bored me. Leader who has some issues falls in love with hot tortured bad guy ? Yeah, I knew where it was going from the beginning. I knew Jinu would end bad. For a movie that seemed so promising, I expected something more... Original. (And you wouldn't even have to remove the romance if you like it (it's not may case tho but usually I don't like two protagonists in love because it's, once again, cliché))

Anyway I may have more thoughts but that's the principal ideas.

There was a lot of potential. But beyond the How it's done scene, I feel like all the ideas and plot points are kinda threw to our faces and we're expected to just accept it. So many lore was just mentioned like that in dialogues with no other explanation, even things that could have been shown. We're told things and we're supposed to believe it without seeing it on screen, which kinda sucks. It kinda felt like a beginner's script.

Also, people have died. Terrible things have happened (do you all remember the train scene ???), but it's not touched. It happened, but it's alright because at the end of the day the girls are happy and the bad boy got his redemption and his sacrifice (which was operated poorly tbh)

Mind you, I liked the film and I recognize its numerous positive points. But calling it a masterpiece is, in my opinion, exaggerated.

You can disagree with me, it's just my opinion after all, but if you do so, please don't do it anonymously because I won't answer and use more than 3 words and a slur. If you send me something it's to open the debate, so make sure there's a debate.

[dazed-pine]

ー jade, azul, and floyd react to you joining the waitstaff at mostro lounge

content: gn!insert + headcanons - can be read as platonic or romantic (or frenemy like) ask box (rq box) more under the cut!!!

ー Jade Leech :

Jade doesn't recall you "wronging" him, his brother, or their Housewarden. In fact, he's going through all of the interactions you've ever had with him... trying to think why you would join the waitstaff.

When you reveal that you just need money for school funds, he stares at you with a bit of shock. Hardly anyone comes to the lounge and asks for a job. Though... he doesn't mind the forwardness from you.

It's refreshing to receive a straightforward answer actually.

However, he gives you a smile and nods: "Money? I suppose we can form... a small contract. Nothing our Housewarden would give. Just an agreement form."

Basically; job interview, mild paperwork, then training.

Jade personally trains you, he takes you right under his wing and teaches you everything you need to know about waiting on people, making drinks, and even making bigger sales for the lounge.

Jade believes you're most talented at being a host. He enjoys your smile and the small talk you make with the customers. Even when you bring the guest their waters, Jade knows he trained you well.

When he's on the clock, you're usually the host. Seating people, getting waters... all of that. Jade will give you the occasional stare, trying to figure out how much of a panic or relaxed mode you're in.

When you're doing very well, he gives you a wink... signaling that a big tip from him is coming your way.

Working with Jade? It's smooth sailing for you.

ー Azul Ashengrotto :

When Jade first told Azul that he hired you for your claim of "money". He actually laughed at first, but then he quickly realized that Jade wasn't laughing... so this is serious.

Azul is intrigued by you being so forward with this, he admires it actually! On your second day on the job, he pays you a personal visit.

He takes you to one of the farther tables in the lounge and has a quick chat with you.

"For the money? Truly? (y/n) you never cease to amaze me. I would love to learn more about what goes on in that other worldly head of yours..." Azul almost has a wicked grin.

He assures you, that this 'contract' is just a normal work contract, however if you do not give in your two weeks before you quit? It won't end pretty.

Azul comes by the lounge to check up on you a lot, making sure your work is up to his standards... and of course it is! You're being personally trained by Jade. His expectations are always met through you.

He enjoys your hard work, he's even generous enough to give you a raise on your paycheck. Which was surprising for even Jade.

Azul believes you work best as one of the baristas'/bartenders.

When he comes in, he always enjoys a cup of your coffee. Jade's coffee is always his #1 pick, but he also enjoys the flavor of your's.

Every time you make him a drink, he always leaves you a tip. Which you're quick to learn... he doesn't do that too often.

ー Floyd Leech :

Floyd wasn't present during your week of training, Jade said he was busy with his own affairs... that's why Jade was the sole person training you (blessing in disguise... more likely than you think!)

When he saw you waiting on a table, he went right to Jade and asked what you were doing here. Jade was happy to tell him that they got another worker!

Floyd is excited to hear that, and it's also you! Floyd always loves teasing you between classes, or even enjoying the small malicious chats with you.

He chats you up a lot on the job, constantly talking to you about how the job can suck, be great, or violent.

Floyd's stories about throwing out rude guests always makes you laugh hard. It doesn't matter if you have a table, you always enjoy a good laugh from him.

Overtime, Floyd shows up to work more when he's schedule to work with you. He know he can lean on you a lot when you're on the clock with him!

He believes you excel most as a waiter. Maybe it's because he slacks off, or he just enjoys the company with you.

Floyd loves how he can gossip about the customers with you. For once, he's not playing too many 'pranks' or teasing you as much.

You just pray he doesn't get bored of you, he might actually pull something... horrible during work.

[restlessmaknae]

got me so lovesick // gyuvin

A school radio announcement goes wrong, and you accidentally end up confessing to the whole school that you might have a crush on a member of the school band - which consists of Gyuvin, Taesan, Jungwon and Yechan.

➳ Characters: band member!Gyuvin x school radio host!female reader/you

➳ Genre: high school au, boarding school au, rich kids au, comedy, fluff

➳ Words: 6.4k

➳ Warning: mentions of food, drinks, reader is a bit chaotic and overdramatic and overthinks a lot

➳ A/N: This story is part of my KOZ International High series, but can totally be read on its own as it's Gyuvin's own story.

“Good morning, everyone! This is your host, Y/N, and me and the whole school radio team hope that you had a wonderful summer. We would like to warmly welcome the freshman and welcome back all the other students. This year will probably be very challenging for a lot of you, especially for me and my fellow seniors, but since it’s still just the first day, let's not be sad! Here’s one of the most requested songs to start the new school year right with the last bits of summer: Supernova by aespa.”

You introduced the song before you pressed play on the audio. Then, you put your mic on mute and turned towards Hikaru who sat on the chair beside yours. She shook her head.

“I swear to god, we’re always ready to make the announcements, but the student service office can’t even help us out,” you grumbled as you reached for your bottle of water to take a sip from it.

It was just you, Hikaru and Seokjoon – the boy was currently checking on the cables as if you hadn’t been doing this for two years – for now, but there was also Samantha who was in the school radio club with you, and who was currently chasing after teachers and officers for any possible updates. Even though you had already sent out the survey to other students for song recs last week, and had already reached out to the school board if they wanted to make any announcements during your usual slots for the school radio, they were more or less unresponsive. Apart from getting your hands on the weekly menu at the canteen, that is.

After gulping down the liquid and your growing frustration, you turned to the head of the school radio again.

“Do you think we should make the announcements after the third period? Maybe lunch break?”

“I don’t know about you, but I would rather sacrifice the break after the third period than lunch break. I’ve been missing the cafeteria food,” the girl admitted with a lopsided smile, and you cracked up immediately.

“Fair point,” you agreed because if there was one thing you really liked about this school, it was the food at the canteen. Sure, it was a private school, so the quality of the facilities should be better than average, but you had heard that food was something that was questionable even at boarding schools. However, KOZ International High had excellent choices to suit all dietary needs and preferences, and they were also generous with the portions. Guys even lined up for seconds at times.

After agreeing on the timing of the usual announcements for the beginning of the school year, you turned back to the mic and as Supernova ended, you were on air again.

“Since everyone is still sleepy, we’ve decided to spare you from the usual round of announcements and paperwork deadlines until the third break. However, what we can say confidently, and what might wake you up is that Insomnia, the school’s one and only band is back! They are going to perform at today’s ceremony, to officially kick off the school year in good spirits. And for all the freshmen who are new to them… you’ve been seriously missing out until now,” you teased playfully before bidding your goodbye with a promise to come back with the announcements later on. One slot down, one more to go.

Seokjoon huffed behind you, and you and Hikaru both turned towards the boy, eyebrows raised in question.

“I don’t know what’s so good about that band. They are good, but they are pretty much mid,” he blurted out the cause of his disapproval, and you exchanged a glance with Hikaru in disbelief. You were of the opinion that the creation of Insomnia was the best thing to happen in your sophomore year because the school finally had a band, and because the school ceremonies finally didn’t suck. The four-membered band frequently performed at school events, and even had their own Youtube channel which had grown rapidly over the past 2 years.

Not to mention that the four members – Taesan, Jungwon, Yechan and Gyuvin – were still very much approachable and friendly with others, and they didn’t look for any trouble unlike Seokjoon who always felt the need to pick on others for liking different things than he did.

“Just because you listen to different kinds of music doesn’t mean that they are mid in their own genre,” you reasoned calmly, but of course, that wasn’t good enough for the boy.

“Just because they look good doesn’t mean that they make good music.”

“They look good and they make good music,” you corrected the boy who just shook his head, a knowing smile playing along his lips.

“You have a crush on one of them, don’t you?”

“And if I do, what about it?” You exclaimed as you rose from your seat, puffing your chest out confidently. You and Seokjoon had gotten into arguments before, so you weren’t one to back down from this one either.

You faintly heard that someone was trying to get inside the room, but your door was locked as usual while you were on air. Hikaru stood up from beside you to walk towards the door, but Seokjoon continued on with the conversation in the meantime.

“Who do you have a crush on?”

Just as you were about to open your mouth to answer his question, Samantha practically flew into the room and pushed you and Seokjoon away from the sound desk, pushing a button fervently before turning towards the two of you. She looked like she had been running, and you were more than perplexed because you had just said that you would make the announcements later on, so even if she had scooped up something, it couldn’t be that urgent.

However, Samantha was faster and told you why she had been rushing here:

“You guys were on live the whole time! So now the whole school knows that Seokjoon doesn’t like Insomnia, and that you, Y/N, have a crush on one of the members!”

You needed a moment to close your mouth after your jaw literally dropped, but then, your hands flew to your mouth when you realised what it meant that the whole school knew about it. The whole school included the members of Insomnia as well!

“Oh no… noooo… this can’t be happening,” you whined as you slid back into your chair, totally devastated. You covered your face with your hands as if you could hide away from everyone, but at least you couldn’t see the others’ expressions.

Hikaru put a hand on your shoulder sympathetically, and you were ready to hear some comforting words from her. Instead, she made you feel even worse when she pointed out:

“At least, you didn’t say who your crush is.”

Sure, because having a crush on any of them wouldn’t be enough for students to start gossiping or even worse, for the members of Insomnia to think of you as a crazy fangirl.

“Aaah, I’m so doomed…”

You were doomed.

If not from receiving multiple questions regarding your crush from multiple people in the corridor and in the classroom (even students you didn’t even know), then from agonising over what you should do when the third break rolled by. Should you apologise for the technical mishap? Which was totally your fault, by the way. You were the one who forgot to turn off the mic after signing off, so you couldn’t blame it on anyone.

Or rather, should you just act like nothing happened? That would mean you wouldn’t pressure the Insomnia members even more to tolerate your sudden confession because yes, you could admit once more that you had a crush on a member of Insomnia, but wouldn’t that make things worse? Wouldn’t that just make them more uncomfortable? Should you just say that it was a rhetorical question, nothing more?

Your two friends had different opinions on the matter, so mulling over it beside them in your classroom didn’t help either. Hikaru said that you should totally say that it was a rhetorical question if you wanted to avoid further gossip, but Hiyyih was of the opinion that you should confirm that you liked one of them. Who knew? Your crush might like you back.

“Ah, I don’t think that’s a good idea, to be honest,” Hikaru shook her head, and she looked like she didn’t want to say why she found it so unlikely that Han Taesan – the leader of Insomnia – would like you back. Yet, when you started questioning whether it was because you weren’t enough for a boy like him, she quickly dismissed your doubts.

“No, it’s just…” She started hesitantly, and looked around before leaning closer to the two of you. “I’ve heard from Kit that Taesan sat beside the head of the Maths club on the way home from their school trip willingly. Some claim that they have seen them warm up to each other, and that she fell asleep on his shoulder!” Hikaru whispered so quietly that you almost didn’t catch her words, and well… you wished you didn’t catch them.

You leaned forward all the way and rested your head on the table, hoping that it would solve all your problems – which consisted of your school radio mishap during the first break and the fact that Han Taesan might be in love with a different girl. You were aware that he was just a distant crush. After all, you weren’t even in the same class. All four members of Insomnia were in the other class, not yours.

Yet, you had been keeping an eye on him ever since he had opened the door for you on the first day of freshman year after another guy had shut the door in your face. He was the quiet type of kind, but you liked the fact that he was always quick to respond when you asked him about band-related stuff for the school radio announcements, and he had even sent in song recs for the slots.

“I mean, you know how Kit is… it might be exaggerated,” Hiyyih tried to save the day, and Hikaru seconded that, adding that she didn’t know if it was 100% true because she had heard about it when she had come into school that day.

Still, even the probability of the summer trip events happening in any form prompted you to apologise for the technical mishap during the third break and to claim that the crush-related mention of yours was simply rhetorical. Then, you quickly moved on to announce the weekly menu, the deadlines for the international students’ paperwork and where the freshman could pick up their student ID cards.

You signed off as usual, but you couldn’t help but ponder over the whole thing even until the end of the day, even when you were forced to sit through the school year opening ceremony which would end with the members of Insomnia performing.

However, shame was rushing through your veins at the very thought of seeing the band perform after today’s events, and you felt your face flush. You felt like it would be a terrible idea to be present, and since you were at the very back of the event hall because you were already seniors, you could escape quietly after letting your homeroom teacher know that you would go to the restroom.

You let out a long sigh when you got outside of the hall, your shoulders slumped at ease. You looked around, but the corridor was blissfully empty, so you could actually head to the restroom without anyone bothering you. You planned on staying inside a cubicle until the whole event was over, but it got suffocating quickly, so you walked out, planning to get some fresh air outside of the building.

However, as you turned a corner, you managed to bump into Kim Gyuvin, the guy who played the synthesizer in Insomnia.

“Oh, sorry,” the boy mumbled with a chuckle, his fringe falling into his eyes. You had to crane your neck to look at him because he was just so impossibly tall, but his height wasn’t your biggest concern now. It was the fact that he must have heard your words from before, if not from the school radio itself because he had been outside playing basketball with some guys or whatever, then from other students for sure.

“No worries, it’s fine,” you tried to shrug it off, partially saying it to him and partially to yourself, and since he didn’t seem to want to make a further comment, you took a step to the right and started walking away from him.

However, he called after you, he called your name which made you turn around in no time. Oh no… he recognised you!

“Yes?” You asked, trying to play the dumb, but your stomach turned into a gigantic knot in no time, and you felt dizzy immediately. This couldn’t go well, surely, he knew what had happened and he wanted to call you out on it. It couldn’t be for any other reason…

“Aren’t you coming back to the hall? We’ll perform soon.”

Surely, he had to know about it, he was just playing cool, but you were on the verge of running away from him and from this whole school.

“Oh no, I’m just…” You hesitated, trying to come up with a plausible explanation, but your brain kept telling you that you were already busted. He probably saw through you, right? “I’m just not feeling… super well,” you croaked out, a drop of sweat rolling down your cheeks as the words left your mouth.

Gyuvin seemed genuinely taken aback, and you couldn’t tell whether it was out of concern or surprise, but you just wished he could leave as soon as possible. Instead, he offered:

“Do you want me to walk you to the infirmary?”

Now, it was your turn to be taken aback because what the hell? This was not the scenario you had expected, and this was not the answer you had expected. You were trying to come up with reasons as to why he would go as far as walking you to the infirmary when he knew nothing about why you were feeling off, but then, your nervous ass decided to join the game and you shook your hands in front of your chest out of desperation:

“No, no way! I mean, there’s no need. You have to go and perform anyway. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Gyuvin quirked an eyebrow, suspiciously eyeing you, but you bobbed your head so fervently, you were afraid it would fall off. “Alright, then. Get well soon!” He wished before turning around and heading back to the event hall.

You thought it was over and you were celebrating your little victory of not making a fool out of yourself for the second time that day, but then he called out your name once more, and you almost got a heart attack.

“Thanks for defending us! We’re happy to have supportive fans like you,” he exclaimed with a big smile, a genuine one, but before you could react, the boy sprung off and was out of sight.

Needless to say, you were more shocked than ever before in your whole entire life.

Your whole life was in a frenzy for three whole days before things started to calm down again. If the whole paperwork part of being an international student at a boarding school, moving into the student halls for the semester and dealing with your jet-lag wasn’t enough, the whole school radio fiasco topped it all off.

After the technical mishap on the first day, you always double-checked whether you muted your mic or not, and didn’t dare to talk to others around you until you made sure that the whole school didn’t hear you. You had random students ask you if you really did have a crush on one of the Insomnia members, and if you did, who it was (some girl even claimed Jungwon for herself which was scary because apparently it meant that no one else could have a crush on the boy), and it just got annoying after a while.

On the other hand, it was Seokjoon who had it worse. The boy was fairly liked in your class before, but now, he complained about girls giving him the cold shoulder because he dared to disrespect Insomnia out loud.

“Well, he had it coming,” Hikaru mentioned before sipping on her mango juice, and it was true that Seokjoon wasn’t the friendliest guy at school, and he deserved to have his real personality exposed, the one that he didn’t show when he was flirting with girls.

Either way, there was already new drama with the father of one of the freshmen running for the election in her country and having memes of him speaking at an event, so you were glad that someone else stole the spotlight from you because you had enough of it for the whole year.

Whilst it was nice that you didn’t get that many knowing glances or stupid questions by the end of the first week, you simply didn’t know how to function in front of the members of Insomnia. Thankfully, you weren’t really in the same space with them apart from seeing them at the canteen, but you just had to see Taesan walk out of the school building with the head of the Maths club a week later.

It was already past 7PM, and you had finished dinner at the canteen, but your plan of peacefully walking back to the student halls was hijacked, and you had to duck behind a giant bush to not get caught. You could already picture what Taesan would be thinking if he saw you around him after classes (and probably after his band practice), and no, thank you, you didn’t need him to think that you were following him around.

You watched him crack a smile when he casted a glance at the girl beside him, and you felt something twist within you. Some raw, gawking, painful emotion overtook you, and you knew it right then and there that Kit was right. They must have warmed up to each other because though you didn’t know a lot about the head of the Maths club, you knew that Taesan wouldn’t talk to, let alone smile at just anyone like that.

Oh gosh, Hikaru was right…. Thank God you didn’t tell the whole school who you had a crush on!

“Why are we hiding behind a bush?” A male voice asked beside you, and you almost let out a squeal when you caught sight of Gyuvin crouching on your right.

“Jeez, you scared me!”

“I guess I did. You were zoning out so badly, you didn’t even hear me walk up to you,” the boy called you out, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Sure, it must have been an odd sight to see you crouched down behind a bush, but you had your reasons.

When you looked over the bush once over, you saw that the pair was out of sight, so you straightened your legs and turned to Gyuvin who did the same. Now, he was a whole lot taller than you as opposed to your crouching forms, and well, it was more difficult to take yourself seriously when you had to look up at him like that. You were sure that he thought this situation was way too funny.

“Do I really have to explain?”

“You don’t have to, but I’m kinda curious,” Gyuvin replied with an excited grin and looked at you with those big, round eyes that reminded you of your dog’s back home. You heaved a sigh, probably way too dramatic, but you just had to let it all out before you could admit the truth to him.

“So I was just coming from the canteen when I saw Taesan with the head of the Maths club walk out of the main building, and I panicked.” “Panicked? But why?” Gyuvin tilted his head in confusion, and you let out a sigh. Again.

“Well, if it had not been obvious, I had been trying to avoid you guys since the school radio incident. I was afraid that Taesan would jump to conclusions if he saw me around him after school.”

“But you live in the halls and eat dinner at the canteen. Why would he jump to conclusions?”

The boy looked so perplexed that you wondered if he really was that oblivious or he was just trying to make you feel better. After all, he could also have been the one you had a crush on, so why was he acting so… coolly? So unbothered?

“Wait, does Taesan not care about the school radio incident? About me possibly having a crush on one of you?”

The boy furrowed his eyebrows for a few seconds before his features finally smoothed out, and he let out a carefree laughter. The kind of laughter that you didn’t appreciate given the circumstances, so you smacked his side lightly to reprimand him.

“Ouch,” he yelped, reaching for the spot you just hit, but it couldn’t be as painful as he made it out to be. 

“I was being serious, Gyuvin! Don’t laugh at me!” You glared at him, putting your hands on your hips to appear more determined and more bossy than ever before. May it be because of that or because the boy was willing to answer either way, but he shared with you afterwards:

“If you want to know, we seriously didn’t give it much thought. Not me, not Yechan, not Jungwon and definitely not Taesan. So no, he would definitely not jump to the wrong conclusions. Believe me, I’m serious,” he stated in a surprisingly genuine tone, but you eyed him for a good ten seconds to see if he would break character.

When he didn’t, you let your shoulders drop and let out a long, long sigh. Again.

“Thank God! This whole situation has been giving me more stress than all my previous years here combined,” you admitted as you reached for your temple, feeling a headache creeping on.

“Oh yeah, the good old school drama. Insomnia had its fair share of them, you know,” he mused out loud, his lips curling upwards on one side. You didn’t know whether he added this to make you feel better or to make it seem like something that could happen to anybody, but you were thankful for his comment. Even more so when he reached a bottle out to you. “Want my banana milk?”

“Aww, thanks! That’s my favourite,” you squealed excitedly as you got your hands on the sweet drink. You immediately stripped the straw off and pierced it through the protective layer on top.

And somehow, this was how you walked back to the student halls with Gyuvin by your side, sipping on his banana milk.

Befriending Gyuvin was definitely not on your bingo card for the new school year.

Or well… you weren’t sure that you were friends, but you did act friendly with each other afterwards. He greeted you in the hallways, asked about your days when you met in the communal room of the student hall, and somehow, he never failed to request a song for the school radio. He even went as far as sitting beside you in the canteen for dinner much to Hiyyih and Hikaru’s amusement. Even though they knew everything, so they were aware that you two started talking since the incident, they didn’t really think much of it. Not until the boy casually plopped down beside you and the girls for dinner. He explained that Taesan and Jungwon didn’t live in the student halls, and though Yechan did, he was always the first to have dinner because that boy was hungry all the time.

After that, the girls couldn’t stop teasing you about Gyuvin, and how it seemed like you could actually have an Insomnia member to yourself even though Taesan liked a different girl.

“Come on! It’s not like that,” you protested, trying to talk some sense into the girls, but they were relentless.

“People say that it’s not like that when it’s exactly like that. Think about what happened at the sports day with Anton,” Hikaru teased with a grin, talking about the annual sports day which took place at the end of October. Someone said that they saw the school magazine writer hugging Anton after she had won the swimming competition in your year, but she denied everything. Apparently, even the tips of Anton’s ears blushed when he was asked the same question, so something must have been going on.

On the other hand, you and Gyuvin weren’t like that. At least, you didn’t think so, so you pushed Hikaru’s shoulder playfully as a sign of disapproval. The girl pushed you back and somewhere along the way, you got into a pillow fight in Hiyyih’s room while denying that you didn’t like the said guy.

However, your emotions were difficult to decipher lately. You somehow managed to get over your crush on Taesan without much of a… breakdown? Heartbreak? Sure, seeing him with the head of the Maths club for the first time hadn’t been the best feeling in the world, but he seemed happy, and that’s what mattered. Besides, it was only platonic on your part, you didn’t even interact a lot apart from what was necessary for the school radio, and things weren’t about to change in your senior year.

Plus, you had to admit that you enjoyed talking to Gyuvin. He was a really fun guy, and though you never knew when to take him seriously even though he was sometimes totally serious, you knew that he was genuine. He didn’t play a part, he was just being himself, and his jokes and playful remarks were enough to turn even your worst days into good ones.

Like that Friday night in November when you were moping on one of the couches in the communal room, holding a mug of steaming tea in your hands. Lemongrass tea was said to have a calming effect, but it either didn’t work on you or didn’t hit yet. On the other hand, Gyuvin joined you as soon as he caught sight of you, and asked why you were so down.

“It’s just that I did worse on a test than I wanted to,” you admitted, your lips curling downwards. You usually didn’t let academics get you down because you didn’t need to have perfect scores to get into the university you wanted, and your parents weren’t that strict about your grades either, but that day, you really took it to heart.

“It’s okay. There will be more tests on which you can do better…” Gyuvin comforted you, and you turned your head to look at him. He gave you a gentle smile before he reached out to ruffle your hair. A habit that you might have grown fond of. “Or you can even do worse,” he added with a shrug, his playful side resurfacing.

You immediately smacked his side to punish him.

“Hey! You do know that for someone as small as you, you do hit pretty hard,” he complained as his hands flew to the spot you hit. You stuck your tongue out at him like a child, but beside him, you could be one.

“I’m not small! You are just too tall!”

“Well, at least someone can reach the top of the shelf,” he wiggled his eyebrows, reminding you of the fact that you needed to ask for his help when you wanted to get something down from the top shelf in the communal kitchen. Because somehow the cleaning lady always put your scattered things on the top one. “Speaking of which, want a banana milk?” Gyuvin quirked an eyebrow, way too proud with himself when you immediately perked up, giving in.

However, instead of getting a bottle out of his pockets or his bag like he usually did, he prompted you to follow him to the nearest communal kitchen. Since you were provided breakfast, lunch and dinner at the school, the kitchen wasn’t equipped with a lot of appliances. Instead, it had more fridges and shelves where you could store your snacks, fruits and drinks. There was one kitchen per 6 students which was more than enough, but you and Gyuvin used different kitchens, so you weren’t super familiar with this one.

It looked the same as yours, but instead of your snacks being placed on the top shelf, Gyuvin opened the top cupboard to reveal at least eight different bottles of banana milk.

“You’re kidding!” You gaped at the sight. “You’ve been hoarding these?”

“I don’t like how they taste, but I don’t want to waste them,” the boy shrugged as if it had been an everyday thing. To be honest, one could always choose whether they wanted some kind of milk (banana, strawberry or chocolate flavoured) or juice with their meal, so he could have totally opted out. Which meant that he must have kept them for you.

The thought fazed you so much that you almost didn’t notice Gyuvin giving you three bottles of your favourite drink.

“Here you go. And if you need someone to get them for you, you can always call me,” he winked at you, all casual and cool, and you played along with him as you put a hand on your heart, feigning being touched.

“Oh, my knight in shining armour…”

You both burst into laughter, and it felt nice to hear him laugh like that, and it felt nice to be so carefree after being down the whole day. Not to mention the thought of him keeping banana milk in his cupboard for you.

“Thanks. That’s really nice of you,” you mentioned after pulling yourself together, giving him a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome.”

He smiled back at you, and in that moment, you felt like your heart did a little somersault.

Wait… was it like that now?

It was natural, really. Being with Gyuvin was all natural and fun and easy. Despite the fact that you had been so overdramatic when you had accidentally blurted out that you might have a crush on one of the Insomnia members, spending time with Gyuvin was not at all complicated or nerve-wrecking. Not that you actually spent time with the other Insomnia members, so they could ask you who you meant by that, but you know… it was still a big thing in your eyes.

These days, whenever you were around Gyuvin, you felt another layer of emotion that had not been there before, and admitting to your best friends that you might actually like the boy was somewhat deliberating. Though of course they said that they had known it all along. Especially when Gyuvin once asked you if you wanted to watch ‘The Wild Robot’ with him in the cinema because his friends didn’t want to see an animated movie with him.

“It’s totally a date,” Hiyyih squealed when you broke the news to them, but Hikaru just looked at you with those knowing eyes, and you knew that she was thinking the same.

“I mean, he didn’t say it was a date as per se, but I mean… it’s the first time we’ll spend time together off-campus, just the two of us,” you mused out loud, trying to make sense of what this occasion could mean to the boy.

“Well, at least, you’ll have an excuse to wear something nice that’s not your uniform,” Hikaru pointed out matter-of-factly, but you just realised right then and there that you didn’t even know what to wear for the occasion.

Since you usually wore a version of your school uniform during weekdays and some casual homey clothes on the weekends, you didn’t really have anything in mind. However, you were meeting Gyuvin off-campus, and you were going to the cinema with him, so you really did have an excuse to wear something else.

Which turned out to be a much more difficult task in the end, but the girls helped you choose a nice shirt with a fluffy cardigan, loose jeans and high-heeled boots to go with your usual winter coat and fluffy scarf. You thanked your friends by buying them their favourite snacks, and after getting permission from your parents to leave the campus during the weekend, you were good to go. You needed their permission because you were underage, but it was a fairly smooth process with a whole online system set up where your homeroom teacher got a notification when your parents approved your leave, and you could show the approval on your phone to the guards at the gate.

You decided on meeting the boy at the entrance – a giant gate with the school’s logo engraved into the front –, and after showing your permissions to the guard, he let you out. You started talking about the previous occasions you had left the campus grounds while taking the bus to the cinema, and time flew by quickly.

You almost forgot how much you had agonised over choosing the right outfit, but when you got inside the building, and the effect of the apparent heating hit you, you got rid of your coat and scarf immediately.

As Gyuvin turned around, he literally froze for a moment before he blurted out the obvious:

“Wow, you look different!”

“Yeah, I know. No school uniform today, thank God.”

“No, I mean…” Gyuvin tried to pull himself together, but he blinked a few times and cleared his throat before he managed to get the following words out. “You look pretty.”

Your face felt like it caught on fire right. You couldn’t help but smile sheepishly at the compliment, and ever so obviously not knowing what to do with it, you suggested getting some popcorn for the movie. Gyuvin looked just as awkward as you thought you looked like, so you felt a bit better about this whole thing. Turns out you weren’t the only one who had never done anything like this before.

After grabbing some popcorn and drinks, you were back to your usual chatty selves, and you stopped talking only when the movie started rolling. You had to admit that you had been a bit perplexed when Gyuvin had suggested an animated movie because a lot of boys your age would call them childish and cringey. You, on the other hand, were always up for a good Disney or Pixar movie, so after making sure that this invitation wasn’t a joke on the boy’s part, you had given it immediately.

You didn’t even mind. The movie was funny, heart-warming, and almost made you cry at one point. It was honestly so wholesome and you left the movie theatre in such good spirits that you felt like you could take on the world. But conquering the tests the week ahead was enough for you…

Gyuvin was of the same opinion, and as you were exiting the place, you shared your two cents on the movie, and what you liked about it. It was fun listening to the boy’s side, and it yet again warmed your heart that he oh so genuinely shared his opinion on an animated movie. Afterwards, you grabbed some good old convenience store food on the way back, filling your bellies before heading back to campus.

“To be honest…” Gyuvin started while you were waiting for the bus, and you turned to look him in the eye. It was unlike him to falter in his words, so you were extra curious what he had to say. “I didn’t even ask the guys if they wanted to come with me. I’ve wanted to see it with you,” he admitted as he scratched the back of his neck, a bit too embarrassed for his liking.

You blushed at the implication, but you blushed even more when you realised that you didn’t mind. It would have definitely been different with others around, let them be his friends or your friends.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?” Gyuvin inquired before you could properly react to his previous comment, but you bobbed your head immediately.

“Hmm?”

You just looked at him, eyes wide with curiosity, but the boy seemed uncharacteristically nervous for someone who was usually very casual. He bit down on his lower lip and let out a sigh before he finally blurted out his question:

“Do you really have a crush on somebody in the band?”

Though this was a question you had expected to get since the very first day of the semester, you didn’t expect it right now. However, you didn’t even have anything to hide from him, so you nodded, a genuine smile painted on your lips.

“Is it me?” He tried with a similarly wide smile, though he seemed reluctant. There was no turning back from here now, you knew it, and with each passing second, he just became more and more agitated, but before he could confuse your first love confession nervousness for trying-to-decide-how-to-reject-him kind of contemplation, you confessed with all the enthusiasm in the world:

“Yeah, I like you!”

And it was true. Though you used to have a crush on Taesan, if you could get over him so easily, it meant that it was just a fleeting thought rather than a real, deep-rooted crush. Instead, you were most definitely falling for this funny, silly guy who was always there for you with his banana milk and motivating (or teasing) words, and there was no denying this time that it was real.

“Ah, I’m so relieved,” he huffed with a grin, and reached out to ruffle your hair. “I like you, too, Y/N!” He said, and fireworks exploded in your heart at his words, at the way his lips curled into a gentle, never seen before smile, the kind that – it seemed like – came with confessions like this.

Now, you were more sure than ever that you were in love, and all the love songs were right about this feeling because it was all flushed faces, racing hearts and feeling out of breath for all the right reasons.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think! 😊

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Header taken from the 'Good So Bad' MV, story title taken from 'Doctor Doctor'.

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