𝐌𝐂𝐘𝐓 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

Pairing: Ranboo + Reader
Warnings: None
Pronouns: They/them

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Ranboo was slouched over his desk, piles of books and sheets of parchment were scattered unevenly across the surface. He was clearly working himself out of his own god damn mind. It was probably because, as a good friend of the president of L'manburg, he'd need to work hard to live up to the name of L'manburg as one of its loyal citizens. He couldn't be an underworking member because that's shameful, right?

Perhaps it was the fact that he was afraid that he'd let his country down or because he felt so under pressure to do well because it would mean that it would run Tubbo's name through the dirt, but he couldn't help but glue himself to his desk every day to do nothing but work. It was very unhealthy, sure, but nobody ever stopped him. Nobody ever could. He was always so determined on finishing projects that he started that if he wanted to stick to a bit of work, there was no point in trying to pry him away.

But it was every day after the next, he was doing something. He never had any free time. Whether it was because he was busy making his own letters, reading through the books for the archives or writing in his own personal diary for his own reasons.

And it wasn't just at home, he travelled very frequently. He often travelled back and forth from the Greater Dream SMP and New L'manburg to send messages and accept trades between the two factions. I guess you could say that with all the work that he was doing, he was like Tubbo's right hand man. Actually, it was sort of like he had been doing all of Tubbo's work for him.

The side of his door began to freak open, allowing a little bit of light to flood in. He didn't turn his head to check who it was, he sort of just hoped that it would be cleared up.

"Ranboo, are you finished?" (Y/n)'s gentle questioned to Ranboo, peering over the side of the door frame, glancing over at him.

"Almost..." He yawned, his pen dashing across the lines of the book he was writing in. (Y/n) furrowed their eyebrows at him and looked up at the window frame, their eyes catching a glimpse of the bittersweet night.

"Ranboo, it's 11pm. Go to sleep." They huffed, shutting the door as they walked into the room to meet his spot by the desk.

"It's only 11." He murmured quietly. "I've stayed up later before."

"Yes, but you've been staying up for the past week." They reminded him sternly. "It's unhealthy to have this sort of sleeping schedule."

"I'll manage." He shrugged, still refusing to catch their eye. His vision just seemed to dissuade.

"Ranboo." Their voice pitched even lower, in the kind of voice that you'd hear from a stern parent when their child isn't listening and they don't want to yell.

"I've just been super busy, (Y/n), you know that." Ranboo voiced a deep, raspy tone. He still wouldn't look up to meet their gaze as he was so focussed on the task at hand. "If Tubbo needs help, I'm going to give it to him."

"He can do his own work." They shook their head, lightly trailing their feet foreword to make their way over to him.

"Yeah, but he gets busy too you know..."

"Tubbo's presidency doesn't entirely revolve around you presence." They rolled their eyes, placing their hands on his shoulders and looking down at the book. "Tubbo can depend on others. He has Ghostbur, Quackity, Fundy... The fate of L'manburg doesn't rest solely on your back." They exhaled deeply, their palms resting to massage his shoulders gently.