#I am doing everything BUT editing this chapter 😭

[hereforuconnwbb]

The Study of Us - CHAPTER 5

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

word count: 10k

warning: language

hey guysss !! i was planning to edit this tmrw after finishing my schedule, but honestly thats probably gonna take forever and tmrw is gonna be a long day for me 😭 so i js pushed through the drowsiness and edited the chapter now to finally post it. i feel bad for delaying releases so much lately 😓 its almost 12 rn while im writing this note but im scheduling this to post at 12:30am not like that rlly matters but if there are any mistakes or parts that dont add up, js um pls ignore them—i am half asleep while doing this ABSAHHSA anywayssss i hope you guys enjoy and tysm for being patient 🫶🏽

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There were very few things Azzi enjoyed more than sleeping in on a Friday morning, especially when she didn’t have class. No alarms. No deadlines. Just her, her pillow, and a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

That is until her door nearly exploded.

BANG BANG BANG

“AZZIIIIIIII. OPEN UP. I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”

Azzi groaned, yanking her comforter over her head. “Goddamn, Caroline…”

BANG BANG

“I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL PICK THE LOCK. YOU KNOW I KNOW HOW—”

Azzi flung the blanket off, shuffled out of bed with all the grace of a sleep-deprived zombie, and opened the door with a slow, dramatic pull.

Caroline stood there, too bright-eyed for someone who had clearly been awake for hours, wearing leggings, an oversized UConn hoodie, and a knowing-ass smirk. Phone in one hand. Coffee in the other.

“Good morning, my beautiful sunshine,” she sang, stepping inside without waiting for an invite.

Azzi scowled and shut the door behind her. “You’re psychotic.”

Caroline beamed, completely unbothered. “Aubrey texted me.”

Azzi froze mid-turn. “…About what?”

Caroline dropped herself onto Azzi’s desk chair and spun in a half-circle. “About you. And Paige. And about the—what was it? 3 hours? Yea I think 3 hour tutoring session you had last night. And the pizza. And the Uno.”

Azzi sighed, dragging her hand down her face. “It was not 3 hours—”

“Azzi. It was 3 hours,” Caroline deadpanned.

Azzi flopped back onto her bed, pressing a pillow over her face. “Why is everyone making this such a big deal?”

“Because,” Caroline said, crossing her legs, “you never hang out with anyone that long. You barely even tolerate me for 3 hours.”

“True.”

Caroline glared. “Rude.”

Azzi cracked a smile under the pillow.

“So?” Caroline said, kicking Azzi’s foot. “How was it? What happened?”

Azzi lifted the pillow just enough to breathe. “We ate. Talked. Played Uno. Studied.”

“And?”

“And… that’s it,” Azzi shrugged.

Caroline gave her a look. “You’re being vague on purpose.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” Caroline said. “Because I know you. You never just talk to people. You don’t really talk to anyone unless you’re comfortable. And you’re not exactly the ‘let’s play Uno and bond over pizza’ type unless something’s different.”

Azzi stared at the ceiling.

Caroline smirked. “Is it still awkward?”

Azzi hesitated. “Less.”

“Oh ?” Caroline leaned forward dramatically.

Azzi sat up, running a hand through her messy morning hair. “It was awkward at first, but… not in a bad way. I don’t know. She’s actually different in person.”

Caroline raised her brows. “Different how?”

Azzi didn’t answer right away. She thought back to Paige last night, curled up with her hood down and glasses on, talking about her siblings, quietly listening when Azzi talked about her family and basketball. The way she’d smiled when Azzi joked about beating her in 1v1. The way she laughed when she lost in uno and threatened to throw the whole deck.

“She’s just… more real than I thought,” Azzi said quietly.

Caroline tilted her head. “Real like…?”

Azzi rolled her eyes and got up, walking over to her dresser. “Why are you analyzing everything I say like I’m on a therapy couch?”

“Because I’m your best friend and this is so much more interesting than scrolling on insta.”

Azzi huffed a small laugh.

Caroline grinned. “So? What do you think of her?”

Azzi glanced over her shoulder.

Caroline’s grin widened. “You like her, don’t you?”

Azzi turned back around quickly. “We’re just getting to know each other.”

“That’s not a no,” Caroline sang, giddy.

Azzi didn’t respond. Her heart felt annoyingly warm and fluttery and she hated that Caroline could see through her like a glass door.

Caroline leaned back in the chair. “It’s just funny how every time I ask you to come to a game, you’re suddenly busy or you have ‘homework’ or you’re too tired. But Paige asks? Boom. You’re in.”

Azzi crossed her arms. “I was gonna say no.”

“But you didn’t.”

Azzi rolled her eyes again, cheeks faintly pink.

Caroline sipped her coffee with a smug look. “You know, it’s kind of hilarious. You’re usually the most unbothered person I know. But now? Look at you. Blushing and awkward.”

“I’m not—”

“You are. Fully.”

Azzi sighed dramatically and sat down on the bed again. “Whatever.”

Caroline softened a little. “So you’re really coming?”

Azzi nodded. “Yeah. I said I would.”

Caroline smiled, this time less teasing, more genuine. “Good. It’ll mean a lot to her.”

Azzi blinked. “You think?”

“I mean even though Aubrey and I asked her to tell you, do you really think Paige just invites anyone to her game?” Caroline said

Azzi didn’t have an answer to that. Instead, she grabbed the pillow again and hugged it to her chest.

Caroline stood and headed for the door. “I’m telling Aubrey you’re officially down bad.”

Azzi groaned. “Don’t you dare.”

“Too late.”

“CAROLINE—”

The door slammed shut with Caroline’s cackling echoing down the hallway.

Azzi sighed again, falling back on the bed.

—---------------------------------

The second the doors to Gampel opened and that familiar blast of cold air hit her face, Paige felt her brain officially switch to game mode.

It was 2 pm. 3 hours to tip.

She walked in with Caroline and Aubrey, all of them still in sweats and slides, bags slung over their shoulders. They didn’t say much, didn’t need to. The place just had a vibe on game days. Everything buzzed.

The second they pushed open the locker room door, the noise hit.

Ice and KK were playing some weird game of reflex catch with a rolled-up pair of socks. Sarah had both legs up on the wall doing stretches while scrolling on her phone like she wasn’t upside down. The others are doing their stretches.

Caroline took one look and muttered, “Circus.”

“No place like home,” Aubrey said, grinning as she kicked her slides off.

“Yo, Jana,” Paige called, already unzipping her bag.

Jana looked up.  “You ready?”

“Yep.”

Jana grabbed her comb and stood behind her, already parting Paige’s hair.

Paige sat still, phone in her lap, as Jana’s hands moved. She always liked getting this part out of the way early. Hair done. Locked in. No distractions.

Ayanna walked past and clapped Paige on the shoulder. “You better show out tonight. Geno’s already in his pacing era.”

“He’s pacing at 2?” Caroline said.

“Full-on hallway laps,” Ayanna  replied. “He yelled at Ice for chewing too loud.”

KK snorted from across the room. “It was one cheeto bro.”

“Yall are cursed,” Jana muttered, finishing the last braid and tying it off. “Okay. You’re good.”

“Bless you,” Paige said, standing and stretching her neck. “I’m gonna go sort out that ticket thing real quick.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “For Azzi?”

Paige froze mid-step. “…yeah.”

Aubrey immediately perked up. “We’re coming.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes we are,” Caroline said, already pulling her sweatshirt back on. “We wanna witness.”

Paige groaned. “It’s literally just a ticket.”

“You’re personally escorting her to the bench,” Aubrey said dramatically.

“I’m making sure she doesn’t get stuck in the student line.”

“Mhm,” Caroline said. “So romantic.”

“Can’t believe we’re third-wheeling to the box office,” Aubrey muttered as they walked out.

“Y’all need help,” Paige said, but she didn’t stop them from coming.

They crossed the main hallway and turned into the little hallway where the ticket box was set up for player comps. It was quiet, just one event staff guy at the desk.

He looked up and smiled. “Hey, Paige.”

“Hey,” she said, stepping up. “I just wanted to make sure a name got added. Azzi Fudd.”

He scrolled through his list. “Yep. She’s on here. One comp ticket. You want her behind the bench?”

“Yes, please.”

“She need a pass for tunnel entry?”

“Yea.”

“Got it. I’ll leave it at security.”

“Thanks,” Paige said.

Behind her, Caroline stage-whispered, “Wow. Behind the bench and a tunnel pass.”

“She’s so special,” Aubrey whispered back.

“Ok, shut up,” Paige muttered, cheeks warm.

As they walked back toward the locker room, Paige pulled her phone out and typed fast.

Paige: ur all set—come thru the player entrance & tell them ur name. theyll give u a pass n walk u down. u will be behind the bench

The reply came quick.

Azzi: ok cool ! thanks i cant wait ☺️

Paige stared at her screen for a second too long, smiling like an idiot.

“Did she text back?” Caroline asked, peeking.

“Mind your business.”

“She did,” Aubrey said. “Look at her face.”

“She’s blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“Azzi’s got you in a chokehold,” Aubrey said, grinning.

“She does not”

“She does,” Caroline said. “And honestly, it’s kinda adorable.”

Paige shook her head and pushed open the locker room door again.

“Y’all are worse than Geno.”

“Geno doesn’t call you out when you get all heart-eyes,” Aubrey said. “We do. You’re welcome.”

“I hate both of you,” Paige said, dropping back onto the bench.

She didn’t. Not even a little.

—---------------------------------

Azzi backed away from the mirror and stepped into her baggy jeans, loose and frayed a little at the knees, then slipped on her fresh white AF1s. Classic. Reliable. A little creased but still got the job done. She looked down, gave her outfit a quick once-over in the full-length mirror on her door. Oversized hoodie, chill jeans, clean kicks. Comfortable but not sloppy. Casual but… ok, maybe a little cute.

But whatever. It wasn’t for anyone. She was just going to a game. A basketball game. Just to watch. That’s it… Well, maybe there is a reason.

She grabbed her small crossbody bag, double-checked that her student ID and phone were in there, then slipped in her lip balm and airpods for good measure..

A small little jittery feeling crawled under her ribs as she walked out the door.

—---------------------------------

The closer she got to Gampel, the louder everything became—students yelling across the sidewalk, music from somebody’s speaker, the steady hum of gameday energy. It was barely 4, and the lines outside the arena were already long, stretching past the fencing with people buzzing about seats and rankings and starting lineups. She could see the security checkpoint from the road. The air was cool but not cold, and people were already filing in through the main entrances.

Azzi bypassed the crowd, headed toward the smaller side door—the one Paige told her to go to.

She had to show her ID twice, and the security guard looked skeptical until she said her name.

“Oh,” the woman said, flipping through a clipboard. “Fudd, right? Got you here. You’re with player comps. You’re good.”

She handed Azzi a pass on a lanyard and pointed toward the tunnel.

“Just walk straight down. Someone will meet you at the end to bring you to your seat in the section behind the bench.”

“Thanks,” Azzi said, slipping the lanyard over her hoodie.

She followed the path inside, the noise of the crowd behind the walls growing louder with every step. She passed volunteers setting up last-minute signage and workers wheeling coolers and towels toward the team hall. Everything looked busy. Real. Like a behind-the-scenes of a movie, except everyone had a job and no one was pretending.

As she reached the mouth of the tunnel, she slowed down.

The court was right there. Empty for now—no players, no layup lines, just a few staff in polos walking around, checking things off clipboards. The arena lights were already blazing, bleachers half-filled and still moving. Students were trickling in. Families and season ticket holders were already chatting and pointing. One little kid in a No. 5 jersey ran past, trailed by a tired-looking dad with a soft drink in each hand.

Azzi stood off to the side, unsure if she should keep walking or wait. A staff member spotted her and walked over.

“You Azzi?”

“Yeah.”

“Right this way. You’ll be just behind the bench. You’re early, but that’s good. It gets crazy in here fast.”

Azzi followed, heart thumping way harder than she expected. It wasn’t nerves, she wasn’t nervous. Not really. Just… out of place.

The staff guy pointed her to a seat directly behind the team bench.

Azzi sat slowly, eyes scanning the whole space. Gampel looked different from down here. Bigger. Brighter. Louder, even though it wasn’t full yet. She rested her hands in her lap, curling her fingers around the fabric of her hoodie sleeves, and tried not to smile too much.

Behind the bench. Just like Paige said.

She let her eyes wander the court again, then up toward the tunnel on the far side.

Still no players out.

But soon.

—---------------------------------

5 minutes later, the lights dimmed just slightly and the music shifted to something deeper, bass-heavy. The student section roared.

South Carolina jogged out first, shoes squeaking loud as they fanned out into layup lines. The cheers were mixed—loud, but not for them. More like respectful hype. Some boos too, mostly from the students already fired up.

Azzi leaned back in her seat, watching. They looked sharp, no doubt. Big. Fast. Focused.

And then exactly five minutes after the place exploded.

Cue the hype music. Cue the lights shifting again. Cue the announcer’s voice booming over the speakers.

“HERE COME YOUR UCONN HUSKIESSSSS!”

The tunnel across the court erupted, and the team ran out in a wave—Paige leading the team, followed by Ice, KK, Caroline, Aubrey, and the rest. The noise was unreal. Azzi flinched at how loud it was down here.

She stood halfway, not sure if she was supposed to. Paige hadn’t even looked her way yet—none of them had. They were all in that pregame zone, clapping, calling plays, running straight into warm-up drills. It made her grin. They moved like they belonged. Like they owned the place.

A few minutes passed then Caroline glanced over mid-drill and did a double take. Her whole face lit up.

She jogged over first, grinning and breathless. “Ok, you’re officially the most committed tutor I’ve ever seen.”

Azzi laughed. “Gotta keep my clients in check.”

Aubrey appeared a second later, pulling up beside her with a grin. “You look good! Not, like—you look good—like you look good here. This is so cool.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh. You almost stuck that landing.”

“Shut up,” Aubrey said, bumping her shoulder. “She’s coming. Brace yourself.”

Azzi didn’t have to ask who.

Paige had peeled off from the group, jogging over with a slight smirk, ball tucked under her arm

“Hey,” she said, voice a little breathy from drills.

“Hey,” Azzi said back, smiling.

They hesitated for half a second then Paige leaned in, and Azzi hugged her. It was quick but warm, familiar. Paige held on a beat longer than necessary.

Behind them, Caroline immediately made a sound like a dying seagull. “Awwwwwwwww”

“Tragic,” Aubrey added. “She’s down bad.”

“I am not,” Paige said, pulling back but very much still standing way too close.

KK appeared like she’d been summoned by the drama, spinning a ball on one finger. “Ooooo we really doing hugs now? That’s cute.”

Ice showed up behind her, sipping from a Gatorade like it was tea. “What’s next? Matching jewellery?”

Paige groaned and stepped away, dramatically throwing her hands up. “Y’all need to worry about your own business.”

“We are, that’s why we’re invested,” Ice said.

Azzi laughed.

“Okay, okay,” Caroline said, backing up. “We’ll leave you alone now. Just don’t make out in front of the children.”

KK saluted Azzi as they trotted back toward drills. “Good luck, scholar. You’re doing the Lord’s work.”

And then it was just Paige and Azzi.

Paige rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry. They’re… always like that.”

“I kinda love it,” Azzi said. “Feels like a sitcom. A slightly chaotic one.”

Paige chuckled. “Yeah. Welcome to the show.”

Azzi tilted her head. “So. You remember what I said last night?”

Paige blinked. “Uh… which part?”

She crossed her arms, mock serious. “If you play shit, I’m not tutoring you anymore.”

Paige put a hand to her heart. “Wow. Cold.”

“But…” Azzi’s eyes sparkled a little. “Put on a masterclass…”

Paige’s grin turned smug. “And we hang out after the game.”

“Exactly.”

“Define your version of masterclass.”

“Score a bunch. Flashy passes. Maybe make someone fall. I want drama.”

Paige nodded solemnly. “Say less.”

Azzi lifted her brows. “No pressure or anything.”

“Oh, I’m pressure-proof,” Paige said, backing away toward the court. “Just wait.”

Azzi watched her jog back into the drill line and shook her head, still smiling.

—---------------------------------

The pregame announcements came and went in a blur of thunderous applause, blinding lights, and player-by-player videos flashing across the screens. UConn’s starting five had been called—Kaitlyn, Paige, Ashlynn, Sarah, and Jana—each jogging out to their own roar, each moment louder than the last.

Now, the energy in Gampel had hit that strange, electric stillness that always came right before tip-off. Like a held breath.

The court was polished to a shine, the reflections of the overhead lights rippling off the hardwood in slow motion as the players took their positions. South Carolina huddled near their bench, focused and bouncing on the balls of their feet. UConn mirrored them.

Azzi sat forward in her seat, elbows on her knees, eyes locked on the court. Or more accurately… on Paige.

She was in her element now—shoulders rolled back, stance low and ready, head slightly tilted like she was listening to something only she could hear. Her jersey fit perfectly. Obviously. But something about the way the lights above caught her arms, casting shadows under each line of muscle, made Azzi’s thoughts derail for a second. Maybe even longer than a second.

She wasn’t trying to be dramatic. Really. But the lighting in this arena? Insane. She could practically sketch out the definition in Paige’s arms just from the way the overheads hit them. Her arms were flexed, loose but brimming with potential energy, the way athletes looked when they were seconds from exploding off the ground. Even the veins on her forearms were visible, subtle but right there, and Azzi had to drag her eyes away before her brain gave up entirely.

Unfortunately, she didn’t drag them fast enough.

Caroline, perched at the end of the bench just a few feet away, half-turned and caught the look on Azzi’s face.

“Oh my God,” she said under her breath but not quietly enough.

Aubrey leaned over behind her. “What?” she whispered back, eyes scanning and then landing right on Azzi’s very, very red face.

“Oh my GOD,” Aubrey repeated, laughing this time.

Azzi’s head snapped around, lips already parting in protest. “Don’t.”

“No, no, it’s cute,” Caroline whispered, clearly not about to stop. “That was a full-on thirst face. Like, textbook.”

“I was not—” Azzi’s voice squeaked, which didn’t help her case.

“She was admiring the… ‘lighting’” Aubrey said, using air quotes and everything.

“It’s excellent lighting,” Azzi muttered, tugging her hoodie sleeves over her hands like they might hide her mortification.

“It’s ok,” Caroline said, barely holding in a grin. “I stare at her arms in practice all the time. It’s healthy. Builds character.”

“Yea same” Aubrey added.

Azzi buried her face in her sleeve.

“God, yall are terrible,” came in Ice, from two seats down, who must’ve caught enough of the exchange to weigh in. “Let her blush in peace.”

“She’s got front-row view of the gun show, what do you expect?” KK added from beside her, sipping from her Gatorade again.

Azzi didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She was too busy trying not to pass out from secondhand embarrassment.

And then the ref blew the whistle for tip-off.

A ripple of noise surged through the crowd, a wave of cheers rolling up from the student section like thunder. Kaitlyn stepped to center court for the jump, crouched, poised. Paige was already bouncing on the balls of her feet, smirking at her matchup like she was born for this.

Azzi peeked up through her fingers.

Paige glanced toward the bench and for a split second, their eyes met.

Azzi wasn’t sure if Paige could see her blushing from there, but the little smirk that tugged at her mouth?

It said yes.

The ball was tipped, and the game began with a burst of adrenaline that pulsed through the entire arena. Jana got her fingers to it first, tapping the ball back to Paige, who immediately corralled it and pushed up the court to a roar from the crowd.

Azzi sat on the edge of her seat, practically vibrating.

From the jump, South Carolina came out locked in. Their defense was tight, switching everything, bodies quick to rotate, hands always in passing lanes. UConn’s offense opened a little jittery—hesitations, missed timing on cuts, a rushed shot or two. And Paige… Paige looked like she was pressing.

Azzi noticed it instantly.

She still looked good, poised, focused, but there was something off in the rhythm of her game. A half-second delay in decisions. A loose dribble here. A contested pull-up that bricked long. Not bad, just… not her usual smooth.

By the third possession, Paige had missed 2 jumpers, both slightly off-balance. She passed up a look from 3, choosing instead to drive and kick to Aslynn in the corner who missed.

South Carolina was capitalising early, too. A fast break off a turnover turned into a clean and-one finish, and UConn trailed 9–3 before they could get settled.

Geno stood with arms crossed, deadpan. “Let’s settle, huh? Find a flow. Let the game come to you.”

Paige nodded, but Azzi could tell—she was in her head.

She kept glancing toward the sideline. Not overtly. Just little looks. Between free throws. After a whistle. That barely-there flick of her eyes toward the bench and just past it.

Toward Azzi.

Azzi flushed every time it happened, like she’d been caught eavesdropping on a secret.

Caroline, now seated two down from Coach, leaned back during a break in play and whispered to Aubrey, “She’s tight. You see that?”

“Yeah,” Aubrey said. “She’ll settle. She’s just trying to act normal with her here.” She tilted her chin toward Azzi without looking.

Azzi caught it. She pretended not to.

Midway through the first quarter, UConn had made some changes. Still, the Huskies couldn’t get their rhythm right. The passes were clean, the movement was there, but it didn’t click yet.

By the end of the first quarter, the score was 16–12, South Carolina up. Paige had just 2 points on 1 of 5 shooting.

Second quarter, it started to shift.

Not all at once but in moments. 

Paige called a high screen and crossed over into a hesitation step-back, nailing a mid-range jumper over the outstretched arms of the defender. She didn’t celebrate but she looked straight to the side of the court again.

Right at Azzi.

Azzi raised her brows. Smiled. Gave her a small nod.

Paige cracked the tiniest smirk before turning and jogging back on defense.

It built from there.

A backdoor cut caught South Carolina off guard, and Paige hit Kaitlyn on a dime with a no-look bounce pass for an easy two. The crowd roared.

On the next possession, Paige pushed in transition, split two defenders with a lightning-quick change of pace, absorbed contact, and threw up a scoop off the glass—

Whistle. Bucket.

“AND FUCKEN ONE!”

The scream cut through the arena like a blade. Paige banged her fist into her chest once, fire in her eyes. The student section lost it.

Azzi blinked, caught between shock and—yep. That was hot.

Caroline turned halfway around, caught the expression again, and just snorted.

“Pray for her,” she murmured to Aubrey. “She’s a goner.”

UConn closed the quarter strong. Ashlynn hit a corner three off a skip pass. Paige pulled off a slick behind the back dribble that had her defender stumbling. The bench exploded. Even Coach Geno surprisingly cracked a small smile as the lead trimmed to two before the half.

Halftime score: 34–32, South Carolina still ahead.

But momentum? Shifting.

The third quarter opened like a different game.

Paige didn’t hesitate now.

She wasn’t thinking anymore, just hooping.

She blew past her defender early in the quarter with a hard right drive, finishing with a reverse that spun off the glass and went in perfectly. The next trip down, she sized up a slower defender in isolation and drilled a stepback 3 with a hand in her face. Bang.

The crowd went absolutely wild.

Paige smirked, holding up 3 fingers as she backpedaled.

Azzi jumped to her feet without even realizing it.

By now, the bench was up on every play. Morgan and Aubrey waving towels, Caroline yelling, KK throwing up 3 fingers after every 3 point shot Paige hit.

Which kept coming.

A fast break? Paige picked the pocket clean, weaved through 2 defenders, euro-stepped around a third, and finished with finesse.

Then, late in the quarter, a hesi-crossover-spin move that left her defender frozen. Paige went up strong through contact, landed awkwardly but the shot dropped.

Whistle.

She didn’t say a word—just smirked, rolling her shoulder forward in a slow, deliberate flex. Then she pounded her chest twice, her eyes saying everything her mouth didn’t.

Azzi just about melted into her chair.

Caroline didn’t even try to be subtle. She turned full-body and said, “Be honest. You’re making out with her later, right?”

Azzi covered her face. “Caroline!”

“Just checking.”

Paige ended the third with 24 points and counting.

4th quarter?

A clinic.

She was everywhere. Her footwork was surgical, her vision insane. She skipped a pass through 3 defenders for a layup, then came down and hit a transition 3 in rhythm off a kick-out from Sarah. The team was cooking.

Geno didn’t sub her once. He didn’t need to.

Final minute, Paige hit a deep 3 from the top of the key to seal it.

32 points.

Gampel was shaking.

The buzzer sounded, and the final score lit up: UConn 74, South Carolina 65.

Paige stood near mid court, hands on her hips, chest heaving, the crowd roaring around her. Her teammates mobbed her—chest bumps, shoulder slaps, screams.

But once the initial chaos died down, she pulled away gently. Walked toward the sideline.

Toward Azzi.

She looked nervous now, like the adrenaline had dropped just enough to let the rest of her rush in. Her hair was damp, sweat still clinging to her neck, but she had that grin. That stupid, crooked, overly confident one that almost hid how unsure she really was.

She stopped in front of Azzi, still catching her breath.

“So…” she said, voice light but a little unsure. “About that hangout. Or… what do you think?”

Azzi smiled, heart thudding in her chest. “I think you earned it.”

Paige’s grin went bright.

Before she could say anything else, Caroline popped up between them like she’d been waiting. “Okay lovers,” she gestured toward Aubrey and Ice, who were now approaching too,  “we’re all hitting Ted’s after. So she,” she pointed to Azzi, “is walking with us to the locker room, and you,” she turned to Paige, “are gonna meet us outside.”

“Wait, me?” Azzi blinked.

“Yeah, we’re just grabbing our stuff. Be quick,” Aubrey added. “You can wait by the tunnel. VIP access.”

Azzi hesitated, then nodded. “Ok, yea. Cool.”

“Cool,” Paige said, clearly trying not to look too pleased. “See you soon.”

Caroline pulled Azzi along with them toward the tunnel, throwing a wink back at Paige as they walked.

Paige stood there, wiping her wrist across her forehead, still riding the high of the game, the crowd, the win.

But her eyes?

They were only on Azzi.

—---------------------------------

The locker room buzzed with chatter and laughter as the team's victory sunk in. The players were all talking, half-showered, still catching their breath from the frenetic pace of the game. Paige, however, was in her own little world, the high of the game still pulsing through her veins. Her teammates had already started to scatter, some heading straight for their things, others lingering in the hallway.

She quickly finished wiping down with a towel, the heat from the shower clinging to her skin, but her mind was elsewhere on Azzi. The idea of spending time with her after the game had her stomach doing backflips. She couldn’t explain why she was suddenly so nervous, considering she had just put up 32 points in a game that felt like a war. It was almost funny how her brain switched gears so fast—one moment, she was locked in the zone, the next, she was just a girl hoping Azzi would say yes.

As she walked to the locker room exit, she found Caroline talking to Azzi near the tunnel, laughing and chatting. Caroline gave her a knowing look, a smirk pulling at her lips. “You two better make it quick,” she said, as if she had orchestrated this entire thing.

“Don’t worry, I got this,” Paige said, trying to sound cool, but there was no hiding the excitement under her voice.

Azzi smiled as she approached, still in her game-day hoodie, her hoodie strings pulled tight against the slight chill of the hallway. “You did great out there,” Azzi said, her voice calm but sincere.

“Thanks,” Paige said, her grin spreading. “I had a slow start, though. Just needed to get into a rhythm.” She shrugged, hands on her hips as they made their way outside the arena, the cool night air hitting them.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Slow start? That’s one way to put it. But you definitely found your groove. I was impressed.”

“Hey, I’m not perfect,” Paige said, rolling her eyes. “But you know how it is. Nerves. Playing in front of everyone with… you know, you in the crowd.” She didn’t really know how to say it without sounding like a total mess, but Azzi just nodded like she understood, no big deal.

They made their way down the street, with Azzi walking just a little bit ahead of Paige. Azzi was quiet, observing the world around her with the calculated calm she always carried with her. Even now, after watching Paige play, she was still analyzing, assessing.

“So, yeah,” Paige started, trying to fill the silence, “what did you think of my shooting tonight? I felt like I missed a bunch early, but I found it eventually.”

Azzi glanced over at her, her lips curling into the smallest smile. “I mean, you were taking shots from everywhere. Some of them were a little rushed early on, but you adjusted. Your footwork on that step-back three was solid. You just need to stay patient and trust the shot.”

Paige felt a little relieved, hearing Azzi’s constructive take on it. She didn’t want to come off like she was fishing for compliments, but it felt good to hear that the tweaks she’d made in her head were obvious to Azzi.

“Yeah, I was thinking too much,” Paige admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “Once I stopped caring so much about… I don’t know. I could just play. It’s like something clicked. Then, I couldn’t miss.”

Azzi nodded. “That’s how it goes. Sometimes you’ve got to let go of all that extra stuff and just play.”

They arrived at Ted’s, the place where their team frequently hung out after big games, and Paige immediately ordered hot chips for the table. It wasn’t even a question—she just knew Azzi liked them. She didn’t need to ask. They slid into the booth, a comfortable space, away from the chaos of their teammates who were already deep into drinks and dancing.

Azzi slipped her hoodie off, revealing the black cropped tank beneath. Her arms were toned, and the cool air inside the restaurant made her look effortlessly chic. She adjusted her seat, her gaze falling on the other girls as they shouted and laughed at the bar.

Paige grabbed a shot, but as she took it, Azzi raised a hand. “I’m not drinking,” she said lightly, and Paige immediately set it down, her expression flickering with surprise.

“Alright, no drinks for me either,” Paige said with a shrug, pushing the shot glass away. “Guess we’re just here for the chips then,” Paige added, giving her a wink.

Azzi snorted, looking over at the table as the drinks continued to flow. “You sure about that? Because it looks like half the team is planning on taking shots ‘til they pass out.”

Paige laughed, leaning back in the booth and trying to get comfortable, even as her teammates got more rowdy. “I don’t need to be that wild. Maybe I’ll just have a few more chips instead.”

“Right,” Azzi said, sipping her water. “Because chips are so much better than shots.”

The server came over, bringing the massive bowl of hot chips to their booth, and Paige eagerly grabbed a handful. They ate in quiet contentment, the conversation ebbing and flowing, sometimes about the game, sometimes about nothing at all.

The team’s energy was infectious, but Azzi and Paige were perfectly content in their little bubble. Paige’s arm found its way over Azzi’s shoulders, a natural motion, something unspoken, as they both relaxed into the quiet moment, watching their teammates in the distance.

Azzi leaned in a little, her cheek resting against Paige’s shoulder, the gesture so simple, but it felt like they had been doing it forever. Paige’s heart fluttered at the gesture, but she didn’t overthink it. She simply put her arm around Azzi like it was the most natural thing in the world.

—---------------------------------

As Paige and Azzi continued to settle into their little corner of the restaurant, the noise from the team started to blur into a distant hum. It felt like they were in a bubble, just the two of them, a quiet, contented space that Paige had no intention of leaving anytime soon. Paige’s arm was still casually draped over Azzi’s shoulder, and the contact felt so natural, like it had always been this way. Azzi had leaned into the touch, her head resting lightly against Paige’s shoulder, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

The clinking of glasses and laughter from the rest of the team rang out across the room, but it felt like they were in a world of their own. Paige’s heart raced a little faster every time Azzi shifted slightly closer, and she had to stop herself from overthinking it.

Just as Paige was about to say something, Caroline’s voice cut through the cozy atmosphere, full of energy and more than a little tipsy.

“Hey, you 2!” Caroline’s words were a little louder than intended, and her presence swayed across the booth like a gust of wind. She was grinning, clearly enjoying the drinks she’d had so far. She leaned in toward the 2 of them, practically collapsing onto the table with a half-laugh, half-giggle. “What’s going on over here, huh? You 2 lovebirds look way too cozy.”

Paige immediately felt her face heat up. She was trying so hard not to overthink it with Azzi, but now Caroline’s teasing was making it ten times worse. “What are you even talking about?” Paige’s voice was a little higher than usual as she glanced at Azzi, who remained leaned against her shoulder.

“I mean, look at you two,” Caroline teased, waving a hand around dramatically, her eyes sparkling from the alcohol. “You’re, like, totally in sync right now. This is a new level of cute. Someone get the cameras, I’m shipping it.”

Azzi, though her face was flushed from the warmth of the moment, just rolled her eyes with a tiny smile. “You’re drunk, Caroline.”

“Am not!” Caroline retorted immediately, before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Okay, maybe I am. But seriously, you 2? This is precious. It’s like you’re both the same person but in different outfits, you know?” She looked between them, giving them a knowing wink.

Paige couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re insane, Caroline,” she muttered, but the smile on her face betrayed her.

Caroline leaned forward, elbows on the table, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “No, I’m right, Paige. I know exactly what’s going on here. I’ve seen this movie. You’re, like, one step away from making it official. I’m here for it.” She raised an eyebrow, clearly proud of herself for her “wisdom.”

Azzi, still tucked into Paige’s side, let out a soft laugh. “Well, you’re wrong, but thanks for the insight.”

Caroline tilted her head dramatically, as if considering this. “Ok, ok, I get it. No labels. Yet.” She sat back, pouting slightly before giving Paige an exaggerated wink. “But you gotta admit, it’s pretty cute.”

Before Paige could respond, Aubrey came swaggering over, clearly on a mission. She was holding a tray full of shot glasses in one hand, her other arm draped over a teammate who was stumbling behind her. “Shots, anyone?!” Aubrey announced loudly, her voice booming across the table.

She slid into the booth beside Caroline, her grin mischievous. “Paige, I know you usually don’t pass up a drink after a game, what’s up with you tonight?” She eyed the untouched beer in front of Paige with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not telling me you’ve gone soft on me now, are you?”

Paige’s lips parted, unsure how to answer, but Azzi’s voice cut in before she could. “She’s just here with me,” Azzi said with a shrug, a soft smile playing at her lips. “No need for the shots.”

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, glancing between the 2 of them, clearly sensing something more than. “Ohh, I get it now,” she said with a teasing tone, but she was far too drunk to make it anything more than a playful remark. “You 2 are real cute. Alright, no shots for you then.”

Caroline laughed and stood up, wobbling a bit. “Imma go join the others,” she said, clearly not paying attention to the fact that she was still holding onto a shot glass. She waved, drunkenly tipping over to another table. “Enjoy,” she called out, giving them both a cheesy wink before stumbling away.

Aubrey lingered for a moment longer before turning to Paige with a raised glass. “Don’t forget, you’re still my partner in crime, alright?” She smiled and then wandered back into the mix of the team, disappearing into the crowd.

As soon as the noise of the bar filled the space again, Azzi finally leaned back into Paige’s side, her cheek resting lightly on Paige’s shoulder once more. Paige smiled down at her, her heart still racing from the attention, but also grateful for the quiet.

“So,” Azzi said, her voice soft but clear. “What do you think? Ice cream?”

Paige blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Ice cream?” she asked with a smile, still processing the energy of the last few minutes.

Azzi nodded eagerly, her excitement apparent. “Yeah, I’m craving some. I don’t know why, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Paige grinned, feeling a spark of energy at the idea. “Well, if you’re craving it, I’m definitely down.” She gave a quick look to her teammates still sitting at the table—Sarah, Allie, and Morgan—who weren’t drinking and were busy having a quieter conversation. Paige stood up, grabbing Azzi’s hand with a soft tug. “Let’s go tell them, make sure they’re cool, and then we can head out.”

Azzi looked up at her, her eyes lighting up at the idea of leaving the craziness behind for a little while. “I’m so down.”

Paige waved to the table of freshmen, who were all sitting together, and walked over to them with Azzi at her side. She leaned in and whispered, “We’re heading out for ice cream, you guys good here? Make sure everyone else is fine, alright?” She glanced back at the table full of noise and chaos.

Sarah, Allie, and Morgan looked up, nodding with understanding. “Yea, we got it,” Sarah said with a grin, her eyes glancing over at the wild energy of their teammates. “Go get that ice cream, we’ll make sure the rest of them don’t do anything stupid.”

Paige smiled and gave a quick nod before turning to Azzi, her heart racing with excitement. “Alright, let’s go.”

Azzi gave her a smile that made everything feel even better. “Let’s get ice cream.”

The night air hit them as soon as they stepped outside, crisp and cool against their flushed cheeks. The sky was a deep navy, scattered with stars barely visible against the glow of the campus lights. Paige immediately reached for the zipper of her jacket, tugging it up just a bit, but next to her, Azzi shivered slightly.

Without a word, Azzi pulled the same hoodie she’d worn earlier and slipped it back on. Her fingers worked quickly, tugging it over her head before she stuffed her hands into the front pocket with a little sigh. The hoodie was a bit oversized, the sleeves just brushing her knuckles, and it made her look even cozier. Paige glanced over, smiling quietly to herself.

“Cold?” Paige asked, even though it was obvious.

Azzi nodded, blowing out a puff of air that hung briefly in front of them like fog. “I thought it was gonna be warmer tonight. Rookie mistake.”

“You were inside a packed restaurant full of drunk 20-somethings,” Paige said, nudging her lightly with her elbow. “It probably felt like summer in there.”

Azzi gave a soft laugh, bumping her back gently. “Yea, well… my body regrets that confidence.”

They started down the path toward the main strip near campus, their steps naturally in sync without either of them trying. It was one of those peaceful silences, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. Paige kept glancing sideways at Azzi every now and then, not even meaning to—just checking in, like her brain hadn’t caught up to the fact that they’d actually left together. Just the 2 of them.

“You ever notice how food cravings hit way harder after games? How I felt back in my basketball days.” Azzi asked suddenly, her voice casual.

Paige grinned. “Literally every time. I’ll finish a game, chug half a Gatorade, and 10 minutes later I’m like, ‘You know what sounds good? 17 pancakes.’”

Azzi snorted. “You would eat 17 pancakes.”

“If the stakes were high enough? Hell yea.”

“What stakes would require 17 pancakes?”

“World peace. Or, like… if someone dared me.”

Azzi laughed, the kind of laugh that crinkled her eyes and made Paige’s chest feel a little too tight for a second.

They turned the corner toward the strip of late-night food spots, the ice cream place glowing warm and welcoming. It was mostly empty inside, just a couple people scattered in booths. Paige held the door open, letting Azzi step in first, and they both headed straight to the counter.

“I’m going mint chocolate chip,” Paige said confidently. “I need that refreshing hit. Cleans the soul.”

Azzi gave her a look. “It tastes like toothpaste.”

“That’s slander. You’re just uncultured.”

Azzi raised her eyebrows. “Uncultured? I’ll have you know I’m a chocolate traditionalist.”

“Boring,” Paige muttered, grinning.

Azzi stuck out her tongue. “Delicious.”

Paige paid for both of them and got their cones and walked back out into the night. The cold air was a little sharper now, but it was quiet, peaceful. They strolled aimlessly, just enjoying the calmness.

About halfway through her cone, Paige paused. They were walking near the rec center, and just beyond the sidewalk, the outdoor court sat under the dim glow of overhead lights. It was deserted at this hour, just the faint echo of music from someone’s speaker in the distance. And right there, abandoned like it had fallen from the sky, was a basketball.

Paige’s eyes lit up.

“Ohhhhh,” she said, already veering off the path. “Look at that. Fate.”

Azzi followed her gaze. “What, the ball?”

“Yep.” Paige scooped it up with one hand, spinning it in her palm. “You know what this means.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, licking her ice cream. “That some rec bro forgot his ball?”

Paige pointed the ball at her dramatically. “That we have been chosen by the basketball Gods to honour this sacred space.”

Azzi gave her a look that was about 90% amusement and 10% fake disbelief. “You’re such a dork.”

Paige smirked. “A dork who can cross you up in one try.”

Azzi took another bite of her ice cream and said with the straightest face possible, “Let me finish this chocolate masterpiece, and then you can embarrass yourself.”

Paige laughed and bumped her gently with her hip, careful not to knock her cone. “You’re lucky I’m letting you warm up first.”

They wandered toward the edge of the court but didn’t step on it just yet, choosing instead to sit on the bench nearby and enjoy their cones. Paige took a dramatic bite of her mint chocolate chip, shivering exaggeratedly like she’d just ascended to flavor heaven.

“Tell me that’s not the most refreshing thing ever.”

Azzi stared at her. “It’s literally minty milk.”

“It’s rejuvenating,” Paige insisted, licking the drip that slid down the side.

Azzi grinned, taking a bite of her chocolate. “You know what’s rejuvenating? Something that doesn’t taste like mouthwash.”

“You’re so wrong it physically hurts me.”

They both laughed, their knees lightly touching where they sat side by side. Neither moved away.

Paige leaned back slightly, balancing the basketball on her knee. “You know, this night didn’t suck.”

Azzi gave a quiet hum of agreement. “Yeah. It really didn’t.”

Paige looked over at her. There was a peace about her right now, something soft and grounded. Paige looked away before she could linger too long.

“You still good for balling after this?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

Azzi licked the edge of her cone, then gave her a sideways glance. “I was born ready. I just didn’t know I’d be playing in a hoodie and jeans.”

“I mean, I’m in Jordans and vibes. We’ll survive.”

Azzi snorted. “Jordans and vibes? That should be your next Instagram caption.”

“Please, like I’d waste that level of genius on a random post.”

They sat in companionable silence for another minute, each of them working through the last of their cones. Paige’s fingers were a little sticky, her mouth tingling from the cold. Azzi was licking the last bit of chocolate from the tip of her cone with a soft hum of satisfaction.

“Alright,” Paige said, standing up and tossing her napkin into a nearby trash can. She spun the ball once in her hands and looked down at Azzi, a playful glint in her eyes. “Game on?”

Azzi stood slowly, brushing the crumbs from her hands, hoodie sleeves flopping slightly over her fingers. “Game on.”

And with that, they stepped onto the court, just two silhouettes under the glow of the campus lights, still riding the warmth of laughter and sugar. The night wasn’t over just yet.

The basketball echoed softly against the court as Paige bounced the ball a couple of times, her eyes narrowing playfully at Azzi. They’d gone from laughing and joking to this, a one-on-one game. Azzi was looking at her like she was about to put up a fight, and that… that was exactly what Paige needed.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Paige grinned, dribbling the ball between her legs, flashing a quick, confident look at Azzi. “I warned you, I’m in elite form tonight.”

Azzi crossed her arms, leaning back against the court’s outer boundary, watching Paige with a mix of amusement and skepticism. “Elite, huh? We’ll see how ‘elite’ you are when you can’t keep up with me.”

“Oh, it’s on,” Paige said, eyes locking onto Azzi’s with playful intensity.

The first point was quick. Paige faked right, then spun left, finishing with a smooth layup. “Boom. 1-0, me.”

Azzi didn’t miss a beat, bouncing the ball with a practiced hand. “Yeah, you’re real smooth. Let’s see if you can keep that up.”

The game quickly turned into an all-out battle. Paige was fast and agile, but Azzi wasn’t letting her off the hook. With every move, Azzi made Paige work harder. At one point, Paige tried to fake a jumper but Azzi was right in her face, her hand up, challenging her to make the shot.

“Oh shit, you’re not gonna let me get anything easy, are you?” Paige grunted, trying to slip around Azzi’s defense but failing as Azzi’s hand swatted the ball away.

“Not a chance,” Azzi grinned, stealing the ball and dribbling it down the court with fluid ease, taking her own shot for 1-1.

They kept exchanging points like that. Paige, despite all the cocky smirks and back-and-forth banter, couldn’t deny Azzi was holding her own. 

The score was tied at 8-8, and Paige was starting to feel the burn.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. “I’m sore as hell. My legs are still feeling that game earlier.”

Azzi, not buying the excuse, shot her a sly look. “Sore, huh? You seem fine to me.”

“I’m telling you,” Paige huffed, bending slightly at the waist. “If I’m not careful, I’ll pull something. Might even tear my hamstring.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Uh huhhhh. Sure.”

“Ok, look,” Paige said, stepping back to reset, “Maybe a little hamstring tear will help with your defense.”

Azzi smirked, taking a deep breath before getting back into position. “That so? Bring it.”

It wasn’t long before they were back at it, and Paige, feeling the heat of the competition, decided to pull out some tricks. On the next possession, she faked a shot and instead went for a quick spin to the right, aiming for an easy drive to the basket.

But Azzi, as usual, was right there, her hand shooting up to contest the shot. They collided, their bodies pressing together in defense, and Paige let out a surprised laugh, nearly losing her balance. “Damn, Azzi, no need to get so handsy.”

Azzi shot her a knowing grin. “What can I say? I play d like a pro.”

They were up to 12-12 now, and Paige was starting to feel the pressure. Azzi wasn’t giving her an inch, and Paige’s energy was starting to flag.

She came up with an idea—tickling. As Azzi came at her with her signature defense stance, arms wide, Paige couldn’t help but smirk.

As Azzi lunged to block, Paige slipped a hand under her ribs, giving a quick poke. Azzi jumped, her posture faltering for just a second, which was all Paige needed. “Gotcha!” Paige yelled, driving for the basket and scoring easily. “That’s 13-12, baby!”

Azzi shot her a playful glare, shaking her head as she bounced the ball. “You are so lucky that was a game move.”

Paige laughed, throwing her hands up in mock victory. “I’m just that good.”

Azzi came back with a vengeance, charging at Paige like a freight train. “Oh, you think you’re good?” she teased, getting in Paige’s face, her arms up in perfect defensive form. Paige stepped back, trying to pull off another quick move, but Azzi stayed glued to her like a shadow.

Paige could feel her exhaustion creeping in, her muscles sore from the earlier game, the endless dribbling, and now the added pressure of Azzi’s perfect defense. “Shit,” Paige grunted, trying to push past her. “No way. I’m not losing this.”

Azzi grinned. “We’ll see. It’s 16-15 now, so you better pull something out of your bag of tricks.”

Paige wiped her forehead again, eyeing the ball. She was getting cocky, maybe a little too cocky. “Watch and learn,” she muttered, then launched herself into a spin move, faking a pass to her left and then driving right.

Azzi wasn’t fooled. She blocked the shot cleanly, sending the ball flying off toward the side. “Not so fast, superstar,” she taunted, scooping the ball and taking it to the hoop. She finished the layup, making it 17-15.

Paige’s jaw dropped. “What the hell? That was supposed to be my shot!”

Azzi shrugged, clearly pleased with herself. “Guess you’re not as elite as you thought.”

Now Paige was scrambling. “Oh, it’s on, Azzi. I’m about to turn this around.”

But it was too late. Azzi, cool and composed, didn’t let up. With every move, Paige felt herself getting slower, her excuses sounding weaker. Finally, after a contested shot, Azzi knocked it down to make the score 19-15. The game was almost over.

“You good?” Azzi teased, eyes sparkling with playful victory. “You sure you don’t want to just give up now?”

“No fucking way,” Paige snapped, trying to dig deep, but it was clear the fight was out of her.

Azzi crossed her arms, leaning against the hoop with a smug grin. “1 point left. You ready to admit defeat?”

Paige put her hands on her knees, out of breath and just a little defeated, but still smiling. “Alright, alright. You’re gonna make me do the walk of shame, huh?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Yup. And when you do, you can call me ‘the one who took you down.’”

Paige scoffed, trying one last desperate shot, but Azzi was right there. She grabbed the ball and bounced it once before driving to the basket and finishing with a smooth layup.

The game was over.

“20-15,” Azzi said, grinning. “You didn’t even come close in the end.”

Paige sank to her knees dramatically, holding a hand to her chest like she’d just played the game of her life. “Alright, you win. But next time? I’m going all out. No excuses.”

Azzi laughed, offering a hand to Paige to help her up. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Paige grinned and grabbed her hand, pulling herself up. “You’ve been warned. I’m gonna get you back for this.”

Azzi raised her eyebrow, chuckling. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The sound of their heavy breathing slowly filled the quiet space between them as they both collapsed onto the bench, feeling the cool night air wrap around them like a soft blanket. The basketball court lay empty now, the only sound being the occasional squeak of their shoes shifting as they stretched their legs, their bodies sore from the intense game.

Paige wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, breathing in deeply, trying to catch her breath. She couldn’t help but chuckle at how worked up they both had gotten. The whole game had been a battle, but somehow, the competition had felt like nothing more than a way to spend time with Azzi. They were both sweaty and exhausted, but there was something calming about the stillness now that the game was over.

Azzi, sitting beside her, leaned back, staring up at the stars. The light from the nearby lampposts bathed their surroundings in a soft, golden glow, making everything seem peaceful. Azzi’s gaze drifted to the sky, her face a little more relaxed now that the adrenaline was fading.

“You know,” Paige said, breaking the silence, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a game quite like that. You actually made me work for every point.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, a smile tugging at her lips. “I told you, you weren’t gonna get anything easy tonight.”

Paige grinned, leaning back on the bench, her eyes following the stars as well. “Yeah, you sure weren’t kidding. I’ve got to give it to you, Azzi. You’ve got some serious game.”

Azzi shrugged, her eyes still locked on the stars. “It’s nothing, really. Just the usual. I’ve played for a  long time.” She paused, and for a second, her voice softened. “But you… you’ve got a real competitive streak. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in Azzi’s voice. She wanted to say something more, to ask her what she meant, but instead, she just nodded, taking in the peacefulness of the moment. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, just staring up at the vastness above them, listening to the occasional rustling of the trees in the distance.

A few moments passed, and Paige couldn’t help but feel a pull to Azzi. She looked over at her, noticing the soft curve of her neck and the way the moonlight seemed to highlight her profile. Without really thinking, Paige shifted a little closer, her leg brushing against Azzi’s, the faintest of touches.

Azzi didn’t pull away. Instead, she subtly leaned into Paige’s side, her shoulder gently bumping against hers. Paige’s pulse quickened slightly, but she didn’t move away. She wanted to stay right there, close to Azzi.

After a beat, Azzi shifted even closer, her head resting gently on Paige’s shoulder. Paige’s breath caught in her throat, and she could feel the warmth of Azzi’s presence seeping into her. It felt natural, easy, like they’d been sitting this way for years.

Paige’s arm moved instinctively, draping over Azzi’s shoulder. Her fingers brushed lightly against the soft fabric of Azzi’s hoodie, then lightly caressed her, almost as if to reassure herself that this was real. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant, as if it were something more than just a casual touch.

Azzi let out a soft sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she settled deeper into Paige’s side. “I’m a little tired,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. “But… I don’t really want to leave yet. This is nice.”

Paige’s heart fluttered, a small smile curling at the corners of her lips. She couldn’t explain why, but hearing Azzi say that, in that tone of voice, made her feel… warm. Safe. She felt her own exhaustion creeping up on her, but she wanted to savor this moment just a little longer.

“I get it,” Paige murmured, her voice low and soft. She tilted her head slightly, resting her cheek gently on the top of Azzi’s head. Her hair was soft against Paige’s skin, and the feeling of Azzi so close made Paige’s chest tighten in a way that was almost unexplainable.

Azzi shifted slightly, her breath even and calm, and Paige’s heart fluttered again at the closeness between them. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so… connected to someone like this. There was something about Azzi that made her want to protect her, to keep her close, and it wasn’t just the competitive edge that had drawn her in during the game. No, this felt different. Something deeper.

The two of them just sat there in the quiet, the only sound was their breathing and the faint hum of the world around them. Paige didn’t want to break the silence, not yet. It felt perfect. Just being with Azzi like this, in this moment, was all she needed.

—---------------------------------

The night had grown even quieter, the sounds of the world fading into the background as the two of them sat there, still and content. Azzi’s breathing had become slower, more even, and before Paige even realized it, Azzi’s head had tilted slightly, resting more comfortably against her shoulder. Paige noticed the softness of Azzi’s breath against her skin, the way her body had relaxed completely, sinking into the warmth of their shared space. Azzi was falling asleep.

Paige’s heart fluttered again, but this time, it was with an overwhelming sense of protectiveness. She watched her for a few moments, unable to tear her eyes away from the peaceful look on Azzi’s face. She almost didn’t want to disturb her, not when things felt this good, this right. But as time passed, Paige felt her own exhaustion creeping back in, and she knew it was time to head back to their dorms.

She carefully shifted, adjusting her arm around Azzi’s shoulder, and gently nudged her. “Hey… Azzi,” she murmured softly, a little hesitant, not wanting to disrupt the calm atmosphere they’d settled into. “You should get some real sleep. You can’t just crash here.”

Azzi stirred, blinking sleepily. She rubbed her eyes, groaning softly as she adjusted herself, her face still nestled against Paige’s shoulder. “Mmm… it’s fine,” she mumbled, her voice thick with the remnants of sleep. “I’m good.”

Paige smiled softly, amused by how stubborn Azzi could be. “I know you’re good, but I’m walking you back to your dorm,” she said, a gentle firmness in her voice. “Come on, let’s go. It’s just a 10 minute walk.”

Azzi gave a half-hearted sigh but didn’t argue. “You really don’t have to—” she started, but Paige was already standing, pulling Azzi to her feet with a gentle hand on her back.

“I know, but I want to,” Paige said, grinning. “It’s just a short walk. Plus, I get to spend a little more time with you, so I’m good.”

Azzi chuckled softly, adjusting the sleeve of her hoodie, but let Paige guide her toward the path that led to her dorm. The walk was quiet but comfortable, the night air still warm enough for them to walk side by side without shivering. Paige kept glancing at Azzi, noticing how tired she looked but also how content. It made something inside Paige stir, something she couldn’t quite place but knew she didn’t want to let go of.

—---------------------------------

When they finally reached Azzi’s dorm, Paige stopped at the entrance, her hand resting on the doorframe. Azzi turned to face her, eyes still a little heavy from sleep, but a soft smile tugged at her lips.

“Thanks for walking me back,” Azzi said quietly, her voice low but sincere. “And for the game tonight. It was… fun. I really needed it.”

Paige smiled, her heart doing a little flip at Azzi’s words. “No problem,” she said, voice soft. “Thanks for coming out, Azzi. It was… honestly one of the best parts of my day.”

Azzi looked at her for a moment, her gaze lingering, and then, without saying anything more, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Paige in a slow, steady hug. Paige froze for just a second, her arms instinctively going around Azzi’s back. The warmth between them felt different this time. Deeper. Something unspoken passed between them, something soft and vulnerable.

Azzi held the hug a little longer than usual, her cheek resting gently against Paige’s, and Paige couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotions swirl in her chest. When they finally pulled away, Azzi gave a small, almost shy smile. “You wanna come over tomorrow?” she asked, her voice casual, but Paige could hear the quiet invitation behind her words. “Just to hang out. Not for tutoring or anything. I’ll make you coffee, or whatever.”

Paige blinked for a moment, surprised by the offer, but the thought of spending more time with Azzi made her pulse quicken. “Yeah,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “I’d like that.”

Azzi smiled again, a little more brightly this time. “Cool. I’ll text you when I wake up.”

Paige felt a warmth spread through her chest, and for a brief moment, she didn’t know what to say. She just stood there, looking at Azzi with a soft smile, her heart pounding in her chest.

Azzi, still blinking a little, smiled back, a quiet but genuine expression on her face. There was something in the way they stood there, something that made Paige feel like this moment was more than just a goodbye. It was the kind of silence that said everything and nothing all at once.

“Well,” Paige started, clearing her throat, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Azzi nodded, her smile still lingering. “Yea, tomorrow. Goodnight, Paige.”

“Goodnight, Azzi,” Paige replied softly, giving her one last lingering glance before Azzi walked back into her dorm.

As she made her way down the path, she could feel the warmth of their moments still radiating through her chest. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. A spark of something she couldn’t quite name, but one she was more than willing to explore.

And as she walked, Paige couldn’t help but think—tomorrow was something she was already looking forward to. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[suffarustuffaru]

arc 8 otto gets more and more deranged with every appearance i love it 😭😭😭😭 this chapter was a mainly otto centric one which was fascinating!!! URGH i have many thoughts :((( the whole chapter being about “walking with light”….. where otto acknowledges that:

and this is AFTER julius apologizes to otto and otto emphasizes to julius’s face that. yeah. julius is still an enemy. like yeah theyre exchanging more pleasant words now but otto specifically emphasizes that otto isnt a knight. julius isnt a merchant. julius is in another camp. theyre opposites T^T AND THEN roswaal telling otto that opposing emilia and subarus way of thinking is a poison that Will kill him. BUT THEN OTTO says

he cant walk with light meaning he cant see reality and still choose to be idealistic and noble like julius and emilia and subaru even though hes still trying to support emilia and subaru. :,,,))) and he admits that!!! hes still choosing to walk a darker path than them even knowing hes not as strong as others!!! even knowing that emilia and subaru will never agree with him and vice versa!!! hes walking alone, in a way T^T

[blueberrybirdsworld]

The Cat Distribution System 5/5

Summary:

When a stray kitten adopts Lando Norris, the self-proclaimed cat hater accidentally starts a soft-launch spiral with his secret girlfriend the ballerina Ariana Riverria.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : Fluff, SMAU

Warning : none, just yeah the kitten will be different in some pictures

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

CHAPTER FIVE :

@landonorris

"She likes ballet and cats, I like girls with pink bows. Seems fair for me to fall in love of you 🤍🎀"

@oscarpiastri: okay FINE you guys are cute or whatever 🙄

@maxfewtrell: glad i don’t have to keep dodging questions anymore

@maxverstappen1: does this mean we can all talk about it now? asking for a friend

@charles_leclerc: finally. no more pretending i don’t recognize your cats 😂

@carlossainz55:

happy for you, mate. and for the cat. looks like he's running the house 🐱

@pietra: i literally screamed

@pierregasly: really glad you two are out in the open now

@arianariverria: glad you came around, glad you waited, I love you to mon coeur 🧡

@catdadconfirmed: for real they are the cutest

@f1slowburn: wait… “glad you waited”? what do you MEAN. was this enemies to lovers?? did he mess it up at first?? i need context

@ballerinaxboosted: ok now i need to know what happened before this. why did he have to wait?? WHO LEFT WHO??

@gridoftenderness: oh this is some “wrong time, right person” energy and i am SOBBING

@softlaunched: “glad you came around ” is gonna haunt me for weeks. they better give us the how we met story soon or i’m writing it myself.

@arianariverria

"And he said he hated cats 🐾"

@pietra: this might be my favorite post, you are perfect for each other ❤️

@alexandrastmleux: the perfect balance of grace and humor. you two make sense in a way that feels effortless 🫶🏻✨

@kikagomes: everything about this is so soft and real. happy for you both 🤍

@pierregasly: very glad you’ve tamed him. no one else could’ve

@maxverstappen1: finally. took you both long enough

@oscarpiastri: i was going to say something sarcastic but honestly this is sweet as hell. glad you posted it

@landonorris: well I like cats now but I love you even more 🧡

@chaoticpirouette: he’s SO GONEEEE 😭

@f1girlsunite: she pulled the man who got beat up by a kitten and turned him into boyfriend material. ICON.

@slowburnf1: "he said he hated cats" girl this is enemies-to-lovers pet edition

@balletxf1squad: i don’t think you guys understand the power of “i love you even more” from a man who used to flinch at commitment and cats 😭

@landoandariaupdates: this is the first time we’ve seen him say that out loud. publicly. fully. not a joke. not a tease. i’m emotional

@mcLarenhearts: this is what happens when you fall for someone who feels like home 🧡

📱@f1sleuths

THREAD : Lando & Ariana — how long has this actually been going on? Because “glad you waited” says a LOT.

1. okay soooo after Lando posted and Ariana replied with that, I went digging. I’m not saying I cracked their relationship timeline but I cracked their relationship timeline.

2. Remember when Ariana randomly gained like 15K followers in December? Now scroll back to Lando’s Brazil trip during winter break, 11 months ago. Guess who was also tagged in background stories ? 👀

3. Also, Pietra and Max started commenting and liking Ariana’s posts exactly 11 months ago. Kika and Alexandra followed her a week later. All the girlfriends followed her right after the Brazil trip that wre organised with some drivers and their girlfriends, where Ariana must have been too.

4. But the wildest part?

There’s an old pic floating around of Lando spotted leaving the Royal Opera House in London last December. It was Nutcracker season. Ariana danced the lead that month.

5. Which means — they’ve possibly been seeing each other before Brazil and then goes on couple holiday together with the group were she met the other drivers and girlfriends

6. But then around day 7 of the trip... Lando disappears from all group pics. No more candid tags.

Other couples still doing beach days, dinners, pool shots. Lando? Gone. And Ariana’s not in the rest of the trip either 👀

7. Which begs the question: what happened? Because right after that: Lando posts a cryptic IG story: "Sometimes space is the kindest thing you can give someone.”

Ariana goes totally radio silent. No ballet pics. No stories. No updates. No public sightings for weeks.

8. So maybe there was a shift. A fight? A misstep? Maybe she got overwhelmed. Maybe he messed something up. Maybe they both did.

But the point is — they separated, then go back together after he waited for her.

@gridromantics: this went from soft launch to literary drama. the slow burn. the waiting. i’m crying.

@f1archivegirl: so it was Nutcracker > Brazil trip with the crew > soft separation> reconciliation > the kitten > hard launch? that’s the arc???

@charliespurrlog: and don’t forget—Lando’s entire vibe changed 11 months ago. man started journaling, reading, wearing calm colors. the girlfriend effect is real.

@danielricciardoteapage: also… HE STARTED LIKING BALLET CONTENT. ON HIS PUBLIC ACCOUNT. WE HAVE SCREENSHOTS.

📱@balletxf1archive

THREAD: so can we talk about how the Brazil photos that just resurfaced basically confirm Ariana and Lando were already a full-on couple 11 months ago??? not “talking,” not “flirting”—a whole relationship.

@catdadconfirmed: they were already gone for each other. we were the ones late to the party 🥲

@mcLarenmutuals: it’s wild how Lando looks exactly like a man in love in all these pics and we STILL missed it for 11 months

@slowburnsofties: "not flirting, not a situationship — a relationship" YUP. and she meant every word when she said "glad you waited"

@gridromantics: people talk about the girlfriend effect like it’s about aesthetics but honestly? he just looked happier in Brazil

@heartonsleeveera: I know they’ve never posted an anniversary date but if they don’t celebrate it in December I’ll riot

The glow from Ariana’s phone screen was the only light in their quiet Monaco apartment. She was curled up on the couch in one of Lando’s hoodies, legs tucked under her, Charlie asleep at her feet. Lando walked out from the kitchen with two mugs of tea, pausing when he noticed the look on her face — soft, distant, maybe a little sad.

He placed the mug next to her. “You okay?”

She blinked, glanced up at him, then tilted the phone so he could see.

“Someone made another thread,” she said quietly. “About us. Brazil. The pictures.”

Lando settled beside her, his arm brushing against hers as he read over the thread. Blurry beach photos. Grainy candid shots. Theories. Timelines. A caption that said:

“They weren’t flirting. They were already each other’s.”

And then:

“Imagine loving someone that much, losing them, and still choosing them again.”

He exhaled slowly. “They’re not wrong.”

Ariana didn’t say anything for a long moment. She set her phone face-down and picked at the sleeve of the hoodie she wore. Her voice came quieter than usual.

“We almost didn’t make it.”

He looked at her, heart tightening at the truth in her words — not as regret, but remembrance. Because they had come so close to walking away.

“I know,” he said softly. “And it was my fault. I was stupid. Too proud. Too used to running when things felt hard.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t just you. I shut down. I pushed you away.”

“You had a reason to,” he said. “I should’ve shown up for you better. But I meant it, Ari — I would’ve done anything to get you back”

That made her let out a soft laugh through her nose, but there were tears in her eyes now — not the heavy kind, just the full kind. Full of everything that had been held back, then let go.

“I hoped you would,” she admitted. Her voice cracked a little. “I hoped you’d fight for me. I told myself I’d be fine either way, but I wasn’t. Not really.”

Lando leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to hers.

“I would’ve followed you to every ballet in Europe if you hadn’t picked up my calls,” he whispered. “I would’ve sat front row until you looked at me again.”

Her breath hitched — part laugh, part sob. She reached up and touched his cheek.

“You’re such a softie now,” she whispered.

He smiled. “You made me soft. And really good at apologizing.”

She kissed him, slow and quiet, like she was still processing the weight of all they’d made it through. When they pulled apart, Lando nudged her nose with his.

“We messed up,” he said, “but we didn’t give up.”

She nodded, resting her head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her, fingers lacing with hers. Charlie stirred at their feet, mewed softly, then promptly rolled over and continued sleeping.

Ariana looked down at him, then back at Lando.

“You, me, and the catS,” she said with a small smile. “We turned out okay.”

He kissed the top of her head. “We turned out better than okay.”

@landonorris "Pics from our first date. The moment I knew I was falling for you. Happy 1 year, my love 🤍"

@arianariverria: How was I supposed to not fall for the boy who brought me flowers on first date? I love you too 🤍

@oscarpiastri: Okay but this is actually disgustingly sweet, I’m happy for you or whatever 🫠

@maxfewtrell: He went from cat-hater to flower-bringer in 12 months. love really is a personality shift.

@carlossainz55: One year already? Bro… you’re soft now. I like it.

@pietragoncalves: AND THE BOY KEPT SHOWING UP. proud of you two 💛

@landoinlove: who gave him the right to be this soft???? literally a flower boy now 😭

@gridgossipgirl: “the moment I knew I was falling for you”??? yeah I’m crying in the club

@charliesfavhuman: Lando: I hate cats and romance

Also Lando: posts anniversary love letter with a bouquet in frame 🧡

@carbonfiberhearts: oh so we were watching a love story and didn’t know it yet. I feel betrayed and blessed at the same time.

@balletbunfiles: he took her to see Monet on the first date??? meanwhile I’m dating men who think “romantic” is sharing their fries

@F1wagsupreme: this post just proved Ariana wasn’t a rebound or a crush. this man planned a real date with flowers and art 😭

@mclarencore: it’s giving ‘boyfriend of the year’ and I’m not even mad

@w14tears: Happy for them but also deeply unwell

@gridgirlfriendenergy: I love how everyone thought they were just flirty when this man was fully in love on date one

That morning, tucked away from the buzz of the internet, things were quieter. Softer.

Lando stood in the kitchen barefoot, while Ariana leaned against the counter next to him, half-asleep, nursing a mug of tea and wearing his hoodie that swallowed her whole.

Charlie and Aria had claimed the sunny patch of rug by the window, curled into one another like they always did.

Lando looked at Ariana, smirking as he flipped a pancake. "Rate my domestic skills. Be honest."

She blinked up at him, unimpressed. "They’re pancakes. You mixed stuff and didn’t burn them."

He feigned offense. "These are artisan. You’re eating Michelin-starred flour and vibes."

"You’re lucky you’re cute," she muttered, stealing a slice of fruit from the counter.

He grinned, pulling her closer by the hip. "You like me because I adopted a kitten."

"No," she said, teasing, "I like you because the kitten adopted you. Big difference."

They both laughed.

The kettle whistled. The cats yawned. And for a moment, the world felt simple.

"Hey," he murmured, tapping her chin so she’d meet his gaze. "Thanks for being patient. For the waiting. For everything."

She smiled, leaning into his chest. "You’re worth it. Even if Charlie is still my favorite."

He kissed her hair. "I know my place."

Ariana tilted her head up, fingers curling into the collar of his shirt. "Still, I guess I could remind you who ranks second."

Lando grinned and leaned in, his lips brushing over hers. It started soft, playful. But soon her mug was set aside on the counter, and he had her perched on the edge, hands gripping his hoodie like it anchored her.

"This is unfair," she mumbled between kisses. "You’re distracting."

"So are you," he murmured, trailing his mouth along her jaw. "Wearing my hoodie like that."

She was halfway into tugging him closer when—

Mew.

They froze.

Mew.

They turned their heads slowly to the left.

Charlie sat by the rug, head tilted, big round eyes fixed on them like he’d caught his parents sneaking candy before dinner.

Lando groaned. "Oh my god. He’s judging us."

Ariana burst into laughter, covering her face. "You said he was clingy, but I didn’t think he was Catholic-school-principal levels of judgy."

Lando carefully scooped her into his arms. "Alright. To the bedroom. My son must never witness this."

She giggled against his chest. "You’re ridiculous."

"I'm respectful," he said, already heading down the hall. "Let the child nap in peace. We’ve earned this."

Charlie let out one last dramatic mew.

Ariana shouted over Lando’s shoulder to the cat, "You’ll understand when you’re older!"

The end

Thank you so much for everyone who have been following this serie Maybe I will post some bonus parts to this if I get inspo, I think it could be interesting to have a prequel story of their meeting and what happened between them in Brazil, let me know if you will like to read it and to give me your review on this story !

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07

[boohorns1136439]

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (07)

Don’t think I forgot about the chapter! I took an unplanned nap earlier, but I still made it (from where I am, it’s still five minutes before midnight, so technically, it’s still Monday)! This chapter was tough to write and edit (tough is an understatement 😭), but here we are! I think as I’m trying to write longer chapters, they’re becoming significantly more work (especially when I try to do it all at once). Hope you enjoy this one too!

Warning: cursing

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut ; bisexual!Reader

06 <- 07 -> 08

Masterlist

Taglist —> if you want to be tag

When Todoroki arrived at the hospital, he paused at the entrance, his gaze fixed on the bouquet of dahlias in his hand. The vibrant petals stood out sharply against the sterile white surroundings of the building, and for a moment, doubt crept in. Was this a mistake? Should he have stayed home? Couldn't he have just sent an apology email or made a call instead? Why was he here, standing in front of these doors? Doubts filled him, but just as quickly as they appeared, they were pushed aside. Something about this moment—about seeing you and apologizing face-to-face—pulled at him in a way he couldn’t explain. It felt necessary, like a weight he couldn’t ignore. The urge to make things right, to apologize properly, tangled with an unclear mess of emotions, stronger than his uncertainty. The thought of seeing you again was both tempting and terrifying, and he couldn’t quite understand why.

With a deep breath, he steadied himself, taking one last look at the bouquet before stepping forward. His body seemed to move almost on its own, urging him forward as if it knew better than his mind. It felt pointless to resist, and he hated not fully understanding himself. Usually, everything was clear and simple, but now, the confusion, the unknown, and the awkwardness destabilized him.

Clutching the bouquet like a shield, Todoroki walked through the unfamiliar halls. Nurses and staff gave him curious glances—heroes usually arrived with an ambulance, not alone—but he ignored their stares as he normally did when he was in public. His focus was solely inward; his heart was racing, fast, too different from its usual calm beat. As he tried to compose himself, he knew this wasn’t just nervousness; it was something else, something hard to name. Todoroki could barely distinguish it, buried under so many feelings and the he closer he got to the hero wing, the more intense the feeling became. He was painfully aware of how each steps made his pulse race, and him self-conscious of his heart pumping loudly in his chest and ears.

When he reached the front desk, he paused for a moment, swallowing, preparing himself and trying to stay composed, as the receptionist looked up at him, briefly eyeing the bouquet before offering a polite, practiced smile.

"Good morning, how may I help you?"

"Good morning," Todoroki replied, his voice quieter than usual, and he mentally shook off his awkwardness before continuing. "I was here a few days ago, and… I was wondering if it would be possible to see the doctor who was in charge of my care during my hospitalization."

The receptionist’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as he typed. After a few seconds, he turned his attention back to Todoroki. "Of course. If you have questions about your treatment or would like a follow-up consultation, Dr. Hasegawa would be happy to schedule an appointment with you."

Todoroki nodded absentmindedly, but his thoughts had already wandered. Dr. Hasegawa... So that was your name. It floated in his mind: Dr. Hasegawa, I’m sorry for my behavior, he thought, trying to figure out what he would say when he faced you. I apologize for acting so inappropriately. Please let me make it up to you... maybe I could buy you a coffee after work?, but he immediately dismissed the thought.

Todoroki barely noticed how tightly he had been gripping the bouquet, the delicate stems pressing into his fingers, but he didn’t loosen his hold. He was still lost in his thoughts, and he couldn’t understand why he felt so anxious, on top of that, now the flowers seemed like such a strange gesture. When was the last time he’d bought flowers for anyone who wasn’t his mother? He couldn’t even remember. Maybe for Bakugo? That one time? Giving you flowers seemed more and more odd with each passing second, but he knew he couldn’t just throw them away now. A small part of him was still wondering if the flowers colors would truly match your eyes, as he had imagined back in the flower shop.

This was supposed to be a quick visit, just to apology to you. He was only here to make amends—no need for coffee or flowers, no need for anything beyond that. And yet, there he was, dahlias in hands, and feeling a flutter of anticipation building in his chest, an unexplained excitement buzzing through him.

“He’s currently in a consultation but should be available to meet with you in about twenty to thirty minutes. Will that be alright?”

Todoroki blinked, startled. He? There was no he.

“My doctor was a woman,” he said slowly, his brow furrowing in confusion.

The receptionist looked equally confused by his words, and he checked his computer before replying. "No, the doctor who treated you was Dr. Haruto Hasegawa, and he’s definitely a man."

There was now way he could have been wrong, he was sure of it and in his memory of the moment, although blurry , he could still clearly remember you: your eyes, your hair, the curve of your lips, your hands—everything about you had looked so pretty in his eyes. He was certain it was a woman who clung to his mind, like a shadow he longed to fade with time.

“There must be some mistake,” he said, sure of himself. “A doctor came to check on me in the afternoon and I saw her, it wasn’t a man.”

“In the afternoon?” The receptionist frowned, his tone taking on a slightly exasperated edge. “It says here that Dr. Hasegawa treated you in the morning, and he was in surgery all afternoon.” His gaze flicked back to Todoroki, the growing impatience evident. “Doctors don’t usually handle post-treatment checkups unless it’s an exception.”

This just didn’t make sense to Todoroki and as he opened his mouth to argue further, the receptionist’s expression shifted. His eyes lit up, as though he’d just pieced together a puzzle.

“Wait a second,” he said, fingers flying across the keyboard once again. “It was probably Nurse Asuna Shimizu. The nurses handle most of the checkups after treatments, and according to your file, she was assigned to you during your stay.”

For a moment, Todoroki faltered. He had been so sure it was a woman—but whether you were a doctor or a nurse? He wasn’t certain anymore. Now, he wondered if he’d completely missed the pastel pink of your hospital scrubs. After all, he hadn’t exactly been focused on your uniform that day—his attention had been caught by... well, everything else about you. You were a vivid image against the foggy backdrop of his memory.

“I guess you’re right. I might’ve been mistaken,” he admitted reluctantly, though uncertainty lingered in his voice. “Would it still be possible to see her?”

“Of course,” the receptionist replied smoothly. “I’ll call her now, she should be in the break room, so it won’t take too long.”

As the receptionist made the phone call, “An ex-patient wants to see you again, probably about his treatment I don’t know. It’s a pro hero.” Todoroki stood there awkwardly and stiffly.

The unfamiliar ticking of anxiety crawled through his veins, unraveling his nerves with every heartbeat. His held his breath every time he heard footsteps approaching from behind, and he fought the urge to whip his head around, afraid of appearing too eager or worse, desperate.

The wait stretched on endlessly, and he stared blankly at the sterile hospital walls as he tried to keep his thoughts from spiraling. His palms felt clammy, and his throat dried out despite his repeated attempts to swallow. The stems of the dahlias, crushed and fragile beneath his restless fingers, bore the burden of his agitation and he prayed silently that his jittery state wasn’t so visible to anyone nearby. When the receptionist finally spoke again, Todoroki felt the ground shift beneath him.

“Oh, Asuna, you’re here. Here is the patient who wanted to meet with you.”

Todoroki froze. The wave of emotions that had been brewing all day—restlessness, anticipation, and fear��crashed over him all at once as his breath hitched. This is it, he thought, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Slowly, he turned around, as though he was bracing himself for the sight of you while the memory of your sweet peach scent tugged at him like a siren’s call, and demanded him to turn faster.

Todoroki’s heart sank at the sight of the nurse. The woman who approached wasn’t you; her hair, eyes, height, and face bore no resemblance to the seared image of you that he held in his mind. But the most glaring difference, the one that sealed it instantly, was her scent.

Scents were undeniable markers of identity—a fact anyone with a decent nose understood. It wasn’t usually a big deal; people were described as “the omega with the citrusy scent” or “the Alpha who smells like coffee beans,” just as casually as someone’s hair color or complexion might be noted. But your scent had been different. He wasn’t sure if it was his premature heat that made him more sensitive, but it had struck him like a physical blow, enveloping him completely and commanding his attention in a way he hadn’t been able to shake since.

The soft lavender and floral notes emanating from Nurse Shimizu weren’t unpleasant, sure, but they didn’t come close to the syrupy sweetness of peaches that had lingered around you. That scent—your scent—felt addictive, disorienting in its intensity, and it had burned itself into his mind more than he liked to admit. Whoever Asuna Shimizu was supposed to be, her scent clearly told him she was not you and definitely not an alpha too. Nothing about it poked and tease his omega like yours had.

Todoroki’s stomach twisted with a bitter ache. He felt foolish for expecting anything different. Maybe you were purposely avoiding him, and who could blame you? He had acted so shamefully during his heat, basically threw himself at you, and let his instincts overshadow his judgment. His mate's breaking your face had only made things horrifically worse. He was so focused on seeing you again that he forgot how serious the situation was and the guilt he felt soared from this realization, which only made him feel even more disappointed in himself. He had been acting so strangely over the past few days, wondering about trivial, selfish and superficial matters instead of how his actions impacted you. He know from experience how a punch from Kirishima could knocked you down and how disgusting unwanted sexual advances felt.

"Nurse Shimizu," Todoroki began, after he approached her maintained respectful distance. "I understand if your colleague doesn’t want to see me again. My mate and I behaved inexcusably, and I want to offer my sincere apologies. Please let her know she can contact my agency if she wishes to seek any form of compensation." He said, serious, measured and polite as possible, wanting to cause any further trouble for you or, what he assumed, your nurse friend.

It took Asuna a moment to piece everything together, before realization flashed through her eyes and she stepped closer to Todoroki, lowering her voice so only he could hear.

“When were you hospitalized?” she asked, her suspicions growing clearer after his response. Her fingers anxiously tugged at the edge of her sleeve as she pressed on, her tone tinged with nervousness. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Dr. L/n, but... is there any chance we can keep the hospital out of this? I know I shouldn’t have asked her to cover for me, but... whatever happened could be sorted out privately, right?” She let out an awkward laugh, clearly unaware of the incident between the pro hero and you, and her focus instead on ensuring her little escape from work remained unnoticed. Her eyes flickered around the room to check no one could over hear her little confession before they landed on the bouquet in Todoroki’s hands, a spark of curiosity breaking through her tension.

“Are those... flowers?” she asked, her voice a little lighter, in a terrible attempt at shifting the topic after the lack of response from Todoroki.

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Yes. Could you give them to her? As an apolo—"

Before he could finish, the nurse interrupted him. "She left early that day and hasn’t been back since. But I could tell her you want to see her when she is back ?” She offered.

The words hit Todoroki like a brick. You weren’t here. You hadn’t been here for three days, and it was undeniable—he was the reason for your absence. He had spent so much time thinking about you since arriving at the hospital, yet the truth slammed into him again: his thoughts had been filled with peaches, warmth, and beauty, while the reality was far darker. He couldn't escape the image of your tears, the memory of his unrelenting grip on your wrist as you tried to leave, the sickening sound of Kirishima’s fist connecting with his face, and the heavy, metallic scent of your blood staining the hospital’s sterile white floor. Now, all he could see was the wreckage he had caused you, and the painful realization that perhaps the only apology he truly needed to offer was leaving you alone.

Don’t tell me you thought it would be that easy. The reader is over there thinking her life is over, and you think she’s just going to go back to work?

Todoroki is a mess in this chapter, blushing and acting bashful like a high schooler with his first crush (this will make sense later). But, I didn’t want to downplay what happened to the reader too much. Todoroki should at least be aware of the consequences of his actions. I thought ending on a serious note would provide a nice contrast to the silly ending of the previous chapter. God I hope I didn’t write myself in a corner but I think I’ll make it work.

I think we’ve seen enough of Todoroki for now—next chapter will focus on Izuku! I know Todoroki may seem like my favorite character in this fic since, aside from the reader, he’s had the most POV chapters (probably more than the reader), but surprisingly, he’s not actually my favorite from the group. Don’t worry, though. I’m not playing favorites in thisbdix. Everyone will get their fair share of attention and dedicated chapters. We’re just starting off with a lot of Todoroki.

2,2k words, the chapter is extra long as an apology to the wait. Oh yeah, I am still waiting on the polls results but I’ll be honest, I maybe just decide for something else.

As always, criticisms are welcome.

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

06 <- 07 -> 08

My apologies if I forgot anyone in the taglist. This taglist is lowkey getting out of hand 😭

-> If you want to tag in the next update, check out the taglist post !

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld ; @marsbars09 ; @queenondeezmatatas ; @imnotherw ; @bedheadloser ; @chrisbiniesluvrr ; @fsocs-blog ; @jadeddangel ; @qardasngan ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @goldenglow149 ; @andysteve1311 ; @pinkmelodies ; @hopefulb1ue ; @redkarmakai ; @zukusluvr ; @navezepol221 ; @candiiee ; @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaq ; @mniya ; @randomhuman112 ; @mintvender r ; @deadendgrim ; @captainswanarcher ; @figbaby ; @midnight-nightmare ; @bluepatrolbear ; @talilosha ; @bawlangya ; @optimisticprime3 ; @purplescorpi0 ; @astrolovedy ; @desiree-lee ; @okaysxx ; @the-faceless-bride ; @thelameone101 ; @gethexxed ; @lowkeyhottho ; @bvirrious ; @heespretty ; @roxy776699 ; @kamy-thee-egg ; @talia-the-gemini ; @pikachuzhc ; @itsnotjustmyself-blog ; @roxy776699 ; @mystic60 ; @reallysparklychaos ; @sixxze ; @blurryperrtymoonlight ; @1poison-cat1 ; @allyfoxglove ; @mindsbloody ; @jkvolgs ; @haruaikawa ; @k3nmakyan ; @my-anime-garden

[ptej1980]

Any thoughts on this? On Saturday, Nic liked the Netflix post, “Can Colin fight?” And JVNs quote following the London trip a day later that included The lyrics to the Lily Allen song 😭. That essentially said name her, asking us to look up those lyrics. Do you think it’s a subtle way of saying… Luke made a choice with A, it hurt Nicola, she turned to her friends over the summer, and now he’s coming back to her with regrets?

Just thoughts, though I do like to believe Luke and Nic are together. The SAG awards showed him being so enamored with her especially.. it’s just hard to believe if they are together they wouldn’t just come out and be done with it..

Hmmm….Firstly after everything we have seen and know I don’t think we need to look into the above IG activity too hard and over analyse.

I can understand why you may think 🤔 and wonder if it has some greater meaning and honestly if that is your thoughts then I don’t hold it against you as you have been incredibly polite and questions are always welcome.

Nic has put some very obvious signs out there, chaos week in August and then again in October with coordinated posts. IMO, liking a post of herself where she looks smoking hot. 🔥 yes it refers to Colin, however if you go through the IG post it also refers to real life couples. So I think it was just a like from our loveable chronically online Nic

JVN is always a little cryptic we know he likes to serve the tea and he has in the past actually been quite obvious in his posts and suggestions. This song I feel could be in reference to any number of people or situations and because I am confident in my ship this does not bother me.

I like to remind myself of every morsel and crumb that we have been given. And 3 things

1. Polaroid 2 rings 3 proximity, heart eyes soulmate energy.

Polaroid is a grid post, she is also wearing her rings in a Grid Post.

Your main question was “If they are together why do they not come out and just say do”.

Ok so I will first pose the question for the other side of the coin, if Nic or Luke with there adjacent (especially Luke). Why would his PR team work so hard to remove traces of her off his SM, ask her to remove her tags of him, and shut down and remove editable feature on wikerpedia delete all that says he was in a relationship with her? Why is she nowhere on his SM not a story, or a tag for either event he took her to. Why did look miserable at those events and we heard him say “let’s get this done”. If he was in a relationship with her why would he interact with his costar like he does. You know who is in his IG grid a lot ….Nic. Vice versa Luke is the main feature in hers.

There are many theories as to why they may not have gone public. I am a firm ring Truther hard core Lukola shipper who has never jumped so many things have puzzled me.

1. NDA/PR is the most common reason that fandom has speculated. I feel that this plays a big part in why they may not have launched. They are following the stipulations of a contract and keeping the personal lives private.

2. Professional credibility. There love is literally art imitating life. Luke and Nic built a solid friendship both admitting they are best friends that have a great love for each other. The delay in launch may be simply because they want to be taken seriously as actors.

I think it may be a combination of the two. They both have worked so hard and to have it judged as just besties falling in love would be hard, they also seem to have to overcome some hurdles and navigate this new chapter of their life with their family. The hurdle might be annoying but it is providing privacy.

I hope this helps alleviate any concerns or confusion. Thanks 🙏 for the ask 💛🐝

[jasntodds]

Penace [5]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 13,401

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, panic attack (jason), ptsd (jason), hurt/comfort, mention of scars

Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update!! I had a bunch of stuff going on last month and stuff happened and I just did not have the mental capacity to edit this chapter. I'm so sorry!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

The next morning rolls around leaving Jason to wake up first. You're still sound asleep facing him, some of your hair covering your face. Jason takes a tentative finger and moves some of the strands from your face. He takes this time to exist. Sleep always came easier when you were around. Less nightmares, not as much tossing and turning, no insomnia. It was always easier with you around and last night was no different.

You fell asleep first just as you usually did when he read to you. You were cuddled into his side and it felt like it always did for that half hour. Just the two of you in bed together with a book and enough trauma for the both of you. Jason thinks you're both really good at being able to exist in a moment as if nothing happened. There's something in you that allows you both to ignore it all even for a few minutes and just pretend to be who you were before instead of just skin and bones.

The world, people, expect you both to be something specific, to act a certain way. You told him once, in a sort of one-off conversation, you felt like people expected something different. At the tower, you always felt like the others expected you to remain quiet or be angry all the time, to snap at some point. Maybe you did. But, your blood was never filled with anger but grief for what you should have been able to have. When Jason died and you got angry, they expected the silence. They expected the grief to hit you like a train. They expected you to quit, get revenge on the Joker before Bruce did. They expected more than rage-filled blood and red-stained hands. And they expected you to move on because what else was there to do? He was dead. And you were alone. People put up expectations and in some ways you feel like you need to meet some of them. Be more careful, get angry, snap, pretend like it's all fine because it's always been fine. But, then you lay down with Jason and you can watch movies and talk about your mom and you can exist in a way that you want without the weight of expectations collapsing your lungs.

Everyone thinks Jason is angry, always has even before he died. He was never angry. He was upset and hurt and didn't know where to put it. He was never angry but everyone expected him to be so he played into it. They expected him to be some sort of fuck boy so he played into it. They expected him to be reckless and so he was. Maybe he was always a little reckless, no one forced him to rob the Batmobile or go with the red hoods when he was a teenager. But they expect it. And now...Jason can feel it. They expect him to lose his mind and until then, they expect him to be fine. He lived, right? Joker is dead, Bruce avenged his death, and he was brought back. He should be fine, right?

They expect him to be fine without ever considering the scars lingering on his chest or marking up his mind like scuffed up wood. But with you, there are no expectations. He is allowed to read and tell you about theater stuff. He is allowed to have nightmares and be scared. He is allowed to just be. When Jason is around you, he's allowed to exist in a way that he wants without the weight of expectations strangling the life out of him.

Maybe that's why you can exist in moments like these as if nothing ever happened. It is the only time neither of you are facing some false hope of expectations. It is the only time you both can be damaged in all your glory. It is the only time you're allowed to bear your scars with pride and show the beauty they've left behind. You can just...be.

He eyes you softly, brows pinched together and you look so peaceful. He wants nothing more than to pull you into him and sleep like this all day. But it is not his place. He's surprised you stayed in the first place let alone stayed in bed with him. He is so glad you did but there is so much you haven't talked about. So much happened and there's just so much between you. He wonders if you'll ever be able to recover or if this is all you'll be. Just a one-off sleepover sometimes.

He doesn't like that idea very much.

Jason forces himself to get out of bed and make his way to the training area where he keeps his fridge. He expects to be able to grab a few eggs and make an omelet, see what else he has and maybe he could make you (and Tim) pancakes. But, as he enters the room, Tim is seated at the table with a tablet open and his brows pinched together.

"Oh, hey." Tim chimes, offering Jason a wave and a glance before he looks back to the tablet. "I made toast and a pot of coffee." Tim explains.

Jason scratches his head before he shakes it and fully enters the room. "Right, yeah, okay." Jason clears his throat, trying to get rid of the sleep still etched in his tone. "Did you even fucking sleep?"

"Yeah, of course." Tim brushes the question, voice still chipper and a part of it reminds Jason of how Gar usually was at the tower. "Early riser."

"A roof fell on top of you last night." Jason states as he walks over to the coffee pot seeing about a quarter of a cup left. He lets out a sigh before he dumps the pot in the sink and starts a fresh pot.

"Oh, yeah but I'm fine." Tim shakes it off.

Jason can almost hear your voice in his head telling him to push for an answer. A roof fell on top of him and his boyfriend is in a coma. Jason does not buy for a single second that he's simply an early riser. No one is an early riser with this job, not if you want more than three hours of sleep a night. It would be responsible of him to ask Tim if he were okay.

"Seriously, you alright?" Jason asks as he leans against the table to face Tim.

Tim looks up at him and while he knew some of Jason before, this is different. The most of Jason he knows is actually Red Hood related. You didn't talk a lot about him when you hung out and he only spoke to Jason a handful of times, usually about his order at Excellent Gotham. There wasn't much said about Bruce Wayne's newest son. Instead, he knows Red Hood is ruthless, brutal, and scary. He is intimidating and will kill someone if need be. He knows Red Hood almost got his dad killed and almost got you killed and got Dick killed. His association with Crane got him killed. Tim knows Red Hood is someone he wants on his side because if he's not, that could be for the worst.

But, he's looking at Jason Todd who happens to be Red Hood and in this moment he doesn't feel like any of those things. He feels like he did when you introduced him. Normal. Calm. Nice. Tim knew there was more to Red Hood. Not only did he meet Jason and he trusts your general opinion of people, but Tim doesn't believe anyone is as two-dimensional as they may seem. Yet, some part of him almost feels surprised with Jason asking if he's okay but it doesn't feel like it's out of obligation. Instead, it feels like he might actually be genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine." Tim answers. "Just..." Tim lets out a breath. "Gar said they haven't made any progress with Bernard. And I'm here..." Tim trails off. "Almost getting crushed by a roof and getting trained by you and y/n."

Jason pushes off the table as the coffee pot dings. "You've only been here like two days." Jason states as he makes his way back over to the coffee. "How'd it happen?" Jason asks as he starts to pour himself a cup, making sure to leave enough for you.

"Some video game thing that Brother Blood released." Tim groans. "No one knows how to get anyone out of their comas."

"Look," Jason starts as he walks back over to Tim. "That fucking sucks, alright? But, you and the Titans will figure it out. You're a genius, man." Jason lets out this scoff that comes out as a chuckle. "The way I see it, all those people and Bernard are lucky to have you looking out for 'em."

"Yeah, except I suck at this." Tim lets out a groan, tilting his head back. "I mean, Dick was...incredible. He was so good at this whole thing and he still is. And then you took over and you were just as great." Tim pauses for a few seconds as Jason watches the defeat start to wash over his features. "How am I supposed to live up to that when I can't even get any intel on this guy? When I can't even figure out a damn video game?!"

"Didn't you choose to be Robin?" Jason asks.

"Yeah but y/n said—"

"I died as Robin." Jason cuts him off because it doesn't matter what you said or didn't say. Jason knows Tim is going to be great at this. "Don't take what she says to heart too much. Her viewpoint of Robin will always be tainted because I died. Because it involved Bruce. You chose this, man." Jason points a finger at him. "No one else is crazy enough to do that, not after me. But you did. That means something. Don't get in your head about it, alright? You're smart as fuck and you're capable."

"But what if I was wrong?" Tim asks knowing it takes a special kind of confidence to not only volunteer to be Robin following Dick and Jason but to have the confidence he could do it.

"Dick wouldn't have asked you to be Robin if he thought you were." Jason says it so simply. "We were trained by Bruce for months before we put on the mask and cape, just remember that." Jason states as he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Thank you." Tim offers a soft smile. "Didn't think you'd be the pep talk kind of guy."

"I'm not." Jason lets out a booming cackle. "So don't go telling people I am."

Tim lets out a soft laugh before he locks the tablet. "She still sleeping?" He decides not to push his luck and changes subject, surprised not to see Sam yet.

Jason nods softly. "Yeah, letting her sleep."

"She doesn't sleep a lot, that's what Gar said...that Molly said."

"Yeah..." Jason pulls in a breath as his heart starts to break. "Comes with the job sometimes." Jason only half-lies.

"She's sleeping now." Tim gains a cheeky smile.

"Shut up." Jason groans and he not getting into any of that with Tim. Nope. "Did you want something more than toast?" Jason immediately changes subject before Tim can try to return the pep talk favor for relationship advice. "Toast is a shit breakfast." Jason puts his Wonder Woman mug down before he gets up.

Tim offers a chuckle. "Uh...yeah, I could eat something else."

Jason looks through some cabinets and the fridge. "Omelet or pancakes?"

"Omelet?" Tim questions softly. "Didn't think I'd have an option." Tim did not thnk Jason could really cook, given the whole eggs, beer, and cheese comment.

"Was making both anyway." Jason retorts. He's just trying to be nice.

Tim lets out a laugh. "Oh, I get it."

"If you don't shut up, we won't train today." Jason almost wants to shut his head in the fridge door with his comment. Who the fuck is he? Dick? Gar? Ugh.

Meanwhile, you're finally stirring awake to an empty and cold bed. Your hand reaches over and you feel the spot where Jason was is cold. Your eyes peek open to see he's no longer there or even in the room. It's not that you should have expected him to be you think but there's a part of you that's still disappointed. Somewhere in your head you almost hoped you'd wake up together and you'd have one of your awkward realizations together. You'd stumble over yourselves and your words but it'd feel like home. It'd be warm and comfortable anyway. And then you'd find your footing where it almost felt safest, in the mix of bantering and flirting. But, he's gone. You're not sure that feeling is something you'd ever be able to get used to.

But, you get up anyway, stretching before you get out of bed. You grab one of Jason's hoodies from the table, tugging it over your head as you walk out of the room. You head to the room with the fridge that you're not sure you should really call a kitchen since there's all the training equipment in there, too. Why is he like this?

As you get closer, you hear Jason's laughter bouncing off the walls. Your heart skips a beat and you don't even notice the way the corners of your mouth perk up into a tender smile. You pause just to listen for a few seconds while his laughter subsides and he goes on with his story. He tells Tim some story about a fight with the Riddler and how mad he was. You've heard the story before but hearing him talk so casually and lightly about his Robin days makes you want to burst.

In the few times you've talked of Robin, there's been a sense of bitterness and sadness surrounding the mantle but now he's laughing and joking. He has stories that aren't tied with grief and pain. Robin always meant the entire world to him and you're so happy he seems to still have some of that joy telling the stories. You think maybe he is getting better. Maybe Leslie really is helping him again.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." Jason quips as you walk into the room.

You clear your throat sarcastically. "Get fucked."

Jason flips you off with a tender smile while Tim lets out a laugh.

"Guess I won't make you pancakes then." Jason shrugs dramatically and you know it's a hollow threat but it is also not a chance you're willing to take.

Your eyes narrow slightly before a smile comes to your lips again. "Do not get fucked."

Jason tilts his head and lets out a laugh. "Dunno, think it'll help?"

You shake your head. "You are a bit uptight."

"Look who's fucking talking." Jason waves the spatula at her.

"I am so not uptight." You laugh as you take a seat beside Tim.

"Well." Tim adds in with a shake of his head and the scrunch of his nose.

"The fuck does that mean, Tim?" Your eyes widen at him.

Tim's eyes widen slightly back at her before he quickly looks to Jason. He might help him with Robin but if he wants to go back and forth with you on this front, that's all him. Jason will let him sink. He knows exactly which side he should always be on and it's wherever you are.

"You're on your own." Jason chimes, waving a spatula in the air as he turns back to the stove, the first batch of pancakes already on the burner.

"Nothing." Tim shakes his head with a smile.

"Right." You laugh softly as you roll your eyes.

Jason walks over with a mug in hand. He hands it off to you and your brows quickly raise seeing it's your Supergirl mug from the manor. You packed and moved but forgot the mug. While things aren't...bad per se, between you and Bruce, you did not go back for anything you forgot and you almost laugh. You may not have gone back but clearly Jason at the very least took your mug, likely with the intention to give it to Molly to give to you.

"Thank you." You hold your mug up to him as he goes to walk away.

"You're welcome." Jason gives you a bright and cheeky smile.

"So, what're we going today?" You ask the boys while Jason finishes breakfast.

"I really got to find this Venta guy and get back." Tim states.

"Figure we'll eat, train a bit, then help Tim here try to get some intel." Jason explains, finishing the pancakes before he moves onto the omelets.

"Sounds good." You suck in a breath, pulling out your phone to send a quick text to Molly to let her know you're awake and what the plan is.

Jason finishes up your breakfast before joining you and Tim at the table with three plates in hand, a delicate balancing act on his way. Tim offers a quick thank you before digging in, the toast clearly not holding him over too well. You offer Jason a tender smile before you dig in. Your chest warms and your skin bursts with goosebumps knowing Jason made pancakes for you.

Jason offers such a specific type of subtle kindness that seems to be overlooked by a lot of people. It's not so much in his words which after all this time, you figured out it's just because he's not too good at expressing himself most of the time. For him, actions say everything that gets caught in his throat. And it's not just with you he does it with. Bruce preferred his omelet differently and Jason never even asked, he always just made an extra one with the things Bruce liked. Gar mentioned he was looking for a few Saga comics and Jason found them and shipped them to Titans tower just because he could. He always offers to help Molly with anything she's working on. He extends his kindness with actions just to display how much he cares about the people who offer him the same kindness.

You think it's one of your favorite things about him.

The three of you finish up your food and get changed for training. The three of you take your time stretching and getting ready to allow your food to settle a little. Training starts just as it did yesterday, Jason taking the first round and then you. Tim still doesn't stand a chance but you and Jason can already see some improvement the longer you train which comes as a big relief. 

After training, the three of you get suited up and head out, deciding to go to the marina this time. Tim rides with you, hoping to find something out tonight. He feels like he's running out of time. Meanwhile, you and Jason are looking to see how he does not in a training room with a safety net. A roof fell on him last night and he seems incredibly unbothered. To you, it only feels right to have him out on the streets anyway, even if it's under false pretenses. So, while you're "looking" for Venta or trying to get intel on him, you're also patrolling, showing Tim the ropes, teaching him the art of grappling between buildings. This is all just more training, making sure he'll be safe out there in the open without the security blanket of you and Jason or the Titans or being in one location. Jason and you think Tim will be just fine. He's smart and capable, he pays attention. This is not a game to him.

It matters.

It always mattered to Dick and Jason, too but it's different with Tim. Bruce offered Robin to Dick and Jason. They were his sons. Batman and Robin. They had months and months of training and while it was hard and brutal at times, there was something that felt magical about the whole thing. It felt surreal. With Tim, it's as if he feels he is obligated to fill the role. Unlike Dick and Jason, Tim chose it and there's somehow more pressure in that for him to prove himself. Tim is generally someone who can focus on things that are important and serious, but this is different. It is his life. It's the life of innocent people. He's having fun, sure, but he's taking it even more seriously than Jason and Dick ever did. It doesn't help he's trying to fill their shoes, something Jason does understand.

After hours of looking and patrolling, you don't turn anything up and head back to Jason's. Tim is incredibly disappointed by his inability to find anything out but you and you assure him that if Venta were in town or if anyone knew anything, they would have spilled with the two of you being around anyway. Between the three of you, someone would have told you some sort of information. You both remind him how easy it was to get information from the people you did question about other cases. Some people are harder but getting intel on one person rarely ever results in no answers. The reassurance does make Tim feel a little bit better about it.

While Tim is feeling a bit better and you're confident in his abilities, feeling pretty good actually, the case is not the same for Jason. Some days are just better than others and today is not one of those days. Waking up with you was refreshing but he's finding that to be the best part of his day because Tim put on the Robin suit. Jason isn't mad or bitter about it. It has nothing to do with it but something about it is causing him anxiety. Something about seeing Tim in the suit, or maybe just another rendition of the suit, makes him want to explode and run and cry and scream. He's been biting it down all day because it's his problem not Tim's. He hates it but something about it is pulling him back to Amusement Mile. Something about it is pulling him back to the anti-fear drug and Cran'e reign. Something about it is making him feel so small and useless. He thought he was making progress but you're back at his home and he's never felt so disconnected from everything. He thinks it's so dumb to feel upset and panicky over this.

He swears it's fine.

"I'm gonna shower." Jason clears his throat before excusing himself to head off to his bedroom as quickly as he can, trying not to raise any alarms.

Your eyes linger on the doorway. Jason might as well have run out of the door with how quickly he excused himself. You heard a slight tremble in his voice. It was sharper than usual and his steps weren't as light as they usually are.

"Is he okay?" Tim asks as he walks over to grab the suitcase for his suit.

You look back at Tim and nod once. During your patrol, you could tell something switched. Jason's been in a good mood and pretty casual about everything, generally speaking. Being in a good mood and things going well always seemed to poke a hole into his head a bit. And today, out there doing your thing, he was quieter, more focused. He's always focused but this was laserlike almost and you're supposed to be helping Tim. You'd make some sort of quip and all you'd get is a disguised chuckle from behind his helmet. If you know anything, it's knowing Jason Todd is in fact, not fine.

"Yeah, no I'm sure he's fine." You brush it off, figuring you'll check on him in a few minutes. "I kept him up pretty late so he's just tired, probably." You nod again, Tim not buying any of it.

"He was up before you were." Tim states as he walks back over to you with his case. "It's not my business, just..." Tim shrugs dramatically, showing genuine concern for Jason's well-being.

Your eyes go to your boots and then back to him. "Yeah, uh...yeah." You nod your head. "I'll check on him in a few minutes. I'm sure he's fine, Tim." You offer him a fake smile.

Jason's head is spinning while his arms are practically vibrating themselves from his body. His muscles are going so weak he can barely turn the water on for a shower. The air is thick and stale through his lungs, burning with every breath. His stomach twists and his eyes start to water despite his best efforts to stop it. The world around him starts to feel like it's closing in and suffocating the life from his lungs. The shower pelts the porcelain flooring, he swears he can hear you and Tim talking and walking from down the hall. His heartbeat is radiating through his ear canals and the passing cars sound like they might drive right through his new home. Everything is growing louder and louder and the thoughts start to kick in. They take a battering ram to the walls and that's when he can't even bear to stand anymore.

Jason carries the heartbreak of death on his shoulders and it is crushing every part of him.

Tim leaves you to go change and you follow his lead, heading for a bathroom. You take your time, giving Jason enough time to gather himself if he needs to before you go to check on him. And for a second, you almost even second-guess it. You haven't spoken in a month and a half, you're just now trying this whole friend thing, is it really your place? When Tim leaves, will you just go back to not talking with no obligation in the middle of you? What if you're wrong anyway? Maybe Jason has changed a little bit in this time and maybe he was just more focused because a roof fell on all of you yesterday. You run yourself in circles, not wanting to overstep and mind his space. Jason always liked his personal space, maybe a little too much but you don't want to intrude. You always felt like you were just intruding in people's lives, a mismatched puzzle piece trying to make yourself fit. It's not what you want to do to him.

Being around him was one of the only places you felt like you belonged. And Jason was the one that always made you feel that way.

You make your way to Jason's room once you're in your regular clothes because you can't bear not to check on him. He would do it for you and you know him. Despite it all, you're certain you always know when something isn't quite right with him. So, you make your way to his room and let yourself inside, shutting the door behind you.

You can hear the shower echoing from the en suite bathroom. The door is closed but you're relieved that he's in the shower and not losing his entire mind in his bed. You look around his room some more and you wonder what else he plans to do with it. You think it must feel more like a home than the manor did. Back at the Tower, he had some stuff on the walls that he picked up because the room was his. He graffitied the walls. It was his and it felt like his. But, the room in the manor still had a poster of the Flying Graysons. Jason didn't decorate the walls, something that always made you sad because it should have felt like a home to him. You never asked but you wondered why it didn't. It couldn't have just been Bruce because of how Jason views him. So, you wonder if it was because maybe he didn't think he deserved the manor or maybe it was that he felt like a replacement and someone else would come in to replace him anyway. Maybe it was a safety precaution for his own feelings of being left behind. You aren't sure but you hope this place feels like a home and he gets to decorate his walls.

The shower is still echoing through the door but you can hear the water clearly, no disturbance or movement. Your brows pull together as you make your way to the bathroom and knock softly. You don't get any answer and you don't hear any movement behind the door.

"Jay?" You ask as you knock louder this time. A lump forms in your throat while your heartbeat starts to spike. Your stomach burns and your teeth grit together. You remember the day on the roof. "Jason, are you okay?" You call again and don't get anything in response.

Your hand goes to the door handle and you pause for a second. And it's just a second before you open the door slowly. You carefully peek your head around the door, your eyes landing on the walk-in shower. The frosted glass door is open while water ricochets onto the white tile floor. And then there's Jason. He's seated, fully clothed in the shower, his knees are tugged to his chest while his arms are wrapped entirely around his shins. His head is buried in his knees and all you can do is shake your head in devastation.

You walk inside and close the distance between you. You keep your stance from outside of the shower, trying to mind his personal space.

"Jay?" You try again and you get nothing from him. It's as if he doesn't even register you in the room which might be one of the biggest red flags when it comes to Jason Todd. He is nothing but on guard.

You walk back to the door and shut it, just in case. Then you kick off your shoes and tug your hoodie off your head before you close the distance between you again. This time, you enter the shower, immediately getting pelted by warm water as you kneel down right in front of him.

"Jay, hey." You call his name again but this time, your hands are delicate and careful as you put them on his cheeks. He jumps immediately, head hooting up with eyes terrified and red. He looks panicked for just a few seconds until his brain catches up with what he's seeing. Your teeth grind together seeing the look of pain across his face. It's written in every line and feature you'd fallen so in love with over the last year. Your hands come to his cheeks again, just as tender as they were before and he doesn't even flinch this time. "What's going on?" You ask softly. Jason shakes his head against your hands and his eyes dodge yours and he feels embarrassed and exposed. Of course, you'd find him.

You always find him.

You always see him.

"It's you and me." Your voice is careful as your thumbs run over his skin. "I'm worried about you. What happened?" You brush the white streak of hair from his face.

"Loud." Jason's voice comes out hoarse and small and his bottom lip trembles. It takes every muscle in his body not to let out a sob.

"Okay." You nod your head once, the look of worry almost permanently etched into your features. If Jason had the strength, he'd push you away just to get you to stop worrying so much. He doesn't deserve it. You don't deserve it. "What happened?" You ask quietly, the water now completely soaking your hair.

Jason offers the weakest shrug you have ever seen. "Don't know." Why do you want to help him? Can't you see the monster he's become? His lip starts to tremble again as he tries to get a breath in but the tears are coming back and he can't breathe out of his nose. The water is dripping into his mouth and he almost thinks it'd be easier to just drown right here.

Not a day goes by that you aren't worried about him. It doesn't matter if you haven't spoken. It wouldn't matter if you hated him, as if that were even possible. You'd worry about him because Jason Todd has done everything to be enough. He has done everything to be happy and somehow, he's still the one sitting in a shower in tears because the world around him is suffocating. Yes, the whole Robin thing was worrisome. The whole Red Hood thing is worrisome. He gets shot out for fun. He taunts people because he thinks it's fun. Someone else is going to kill him one day, that much is certain. And while that is worrisome, you've also seen the damage people he loves have caused him. It doesn't have to be physical damage because Jason's own brain wants to torture him and it uses everyone else's words as some sort of infinite ammo. The vigilante thing is worrisome, but where Jason's head is, that's the real thing that's worrying.

It wouldn't matter if you hated each other, you would rip every false and cruel thought that ever crosses his mind.

You let go of his face and move your hands to his. You're careful, lightly pulling his hands apart and away from his legs. Once his legs are free, you move to the side and lightly press on his knees until his legs are stretched out in front of him. The whole thing is making Jason watch you with careful eyes and it's almost a distraction and then you climb on top of him. You straddle his lap, Jason's eyes never leaving you and it almost causes him more panicky. He might know you better than he knows himself, but he very rarely knows what you'll do in moments like these. But then, you don't say anything. All you do is wrap your arms around his neck and pull him for a hug.

Jason tenses up just as he's done before but after a few seconds, a part of him relaxes against you. He gathers a full breath into his lungs and it's as if he's giving his body permission to lose it all again, in the comfort of you. His arms wrap around your middle and his grip is so tight as he lets out a sob, you can't breathe. You think you'd suffocate if it allowed him any type of relief.

It is all just too much. The weight on his chest is too heavy and he doesn't think he can carry it. He goes out and he murders people. They may be very bad people but it's what he does and he thinks about how Bruce is so mad about it. He tries to be understanding but they will never come to an understanding over it. It will be a matter of time before Jason ends up an enemy to Batman and by default, an enemy to Bruce. What makes what Jason is doing different than what the Joker did to him? To Jason, Batman and Robin were the Joker's enemies, right? And he took care of a problem, the same way Jason is taking care of problems. Jason might not be the instigator in it, but he's doing the same crime. Was Bruce right about it? Is he any different than the Joker?

Most days, it is a thing that he lives with. It's for the greater good and his soul is already damaged, it's already the property of something that isn't quite him anymore. It's always just waiting in an in-between for his second round at death. He does it so other people won't have to. He does it so other people won't feel like him or you or Bruce or Dick or Molly or any of them. He does it to help because people get forgotten. That's what he tells himself but right now, he can't quite figure out if that's really the right thing. He doesn't know what else he's supposed to do. If this isn't supposed to be the answer, then what is? What if it isn't and he can't come back from it anyway? His hands are already stained with so much blood.

And because of that, he falls back into his routine way of thinking. He is damaged. He is broken and scarred, physically and mentally now. Everything around him crumbles at his feet. He tries so fucking hard to be something that's easy to swallow and digest but he fucks that up, too because no one really expects him to be like that. He breaks everyone around him and all he does is hurt people. They try to offer him love and kindness and he bites through it like a rabid coyote. He is undeserving. Someone who is deserving doesn't push and they don't hurt people for being kind. They don't destroy people. That's all he has ever done.

And then he fucking died. It might have been scary and traumatizing but there was a moment, right before everything went dark where he accepted his fate. That would be it. No one else would have to suffer for his mistakes. He was going to die and some people might be sad for a little bit, but they would move on. And he wouldn't fuck up their lives anymore. And he wouldn't suffer anymore.

The ache in his bones would be gone and the voice would be quiet. All of the pain he's dealt with would just be...gone. He would take his last breath, and that would be it. He has hurt for so long that there was a moment where he accepted his fate, that it might just be better and easier this way. He did not want to die and he wishes he were able to have put up a fight but in that single second, he accepted it.

That feeling lingers with him today. He accepted it and as brought back. The reaper won't leave him alone, tugging at his lungs and his bones. It's not forceful, just a casual reminder of what's waiting for him one day. It's a feeling in his stomach that feels like the start of an ulcer. Just there, waiting for the right moment. And he saw the look Dick gave him when he saw Red Hood was Jaosn. He did not seem happy. You were at first pissed about it. No one really seemed too happy at first when he came back. He interrupted your grieving process and then interrupted everything else. He dies with the ache in his bones and the guilt because he has no choice but he swears he won't do this again.

He put a bomb in his helmet as a failsafe.

You pull his thoughts back to you as you press a kiss to his temple. "You're gonna be okay, Jay."

"I'm not!" Jason yells through a whine as he pulls away, his eyes on you. His chest is heaving as he pants for some sort of air. "I'm never gonna be fucking fine."

Why does the world treat him so cruelly? Can't it see that he is good? Can't it see that he has always been enough? Can't it see that Jason Todd has been through enough? He has suffered enough. You would fight the universe with your bare fucking hands if that's what it took for it to understand that he is done suffering.

"You will be." You nod your head at him as your hands come to the side of his neck. Your thumbs trace his jawline. "And you don't have to do this shit alone." You urge. "I told you, if I'm alive then you are never alone and I mean it. I don't care." You shrug harshly. "It's gonna be okay." You want to kiss him until he believes you. You want to kiss all of his hurt away, scare it away so far away that it never comes back. You want to kiss him as hard as you can so maybe he'll believe, once more, that he is worthy and he's gonna be okay and he is never fucking alone if you're breathing.

"I-I just want to stop." His voice has never sounded so defeated as he rests his head against your chest.

"I know." You whisper, your hand moving to the back of his head as you run your hand through the wet strands of black hair. "It will, you just gotta give it some time, Jay." Your voice is steady and calm, disguising the pain in your chest. "You've been through a lot."

Jason picks his head up, his green eyes are dark and miserable. Completely broken. "I died." Jason chokes out.

"Yeah." You nod once as Jason watches something devastating rip through your eyes. "Someone should have been there to protect you." You wish it would have been you. It should have been you to protect him.

Jason shakes his head and he lets out this chuckle that almost falls into another sob. "Maybe I was better off dead." He says it in one breath, all flat and sincere. "Look what I've become."

"No." You say sternly because he doesn't get to do this to himself again. He has prevented you from this exact spiral more times than you can count and he doesn't even know it. It's your job to make sure you repay the favor that was never really a favor. "You deserve to be alive." Jason catches a subtle break in your tone. "You became something that everyone was too fucking cowardly to become. You save people." You nod firmly. "Do you know how many people you've saved as Red Hood?" You ask.

"Not fucking many." Jason lets out a huff.

"Three hundred and two." You answer right back.

Jason's eyes widen and he is so certain you're making that up. "What?"

"Three hundred and two." You repeat. "There was a domino effect, too. I didn't actually count that because it would be like... impossible but I did account for some of them. A guy was gonna blow blow up the museum but you stopped him the day before he had a chance. So, you saved every person that would have been there. You've stolen how many guns from Black Mask? I mean just think of how many people you saved because you took those guns? Domino effect. Of course, there was the apartment fire last week which I don't know, Jay. You're not a firefighter but you still went into it and saved a whole family then went back and saved their cat."

Jason's eyes burn and sting as he stares at you in disbelief and confusion. The water pelts him and it's the first time he realizes it's going a little cold. Why the fuck do you know that? Why are you keeping track? Jason doesn't even believe you. You have no reason to keep track of how many people he's saving. It's his doing and it has nothing to do with you. There is no reason for it. You're just telling him this shit to make him feel better even if that's never been something you've done.

You don't lie to him.

Jason didn't think you'd start so soon and he did do those things. The Gazette wrote a few articles about it though and Molly knew. Maybe that's how you knew but your eyes are soft and your fingers are idly playing with the wet strands at the base of his neck. Why are you keeping tabs on him when you never called?

"W-why the fuck do you know that?" Jason finally gets the words out and you can't tell if he's actually mad about it or concerned.

You hope he's just concerned.

You shrug and offer him a small but cheeky smile. "Cause I do." You suck in a breath. "Have my ways."

The very corner of Jason's mouth tugs upwards just barely at the thought that you're really keeping tabs on him, outside of hearing from your friends. If it were anyone else, he'd be pissed. He can take care of himself despite what this situation might look like to an outsider. He can take care of himself and he doesn't need people worrying about him and keeping tabs just to be disappointed or mad. Jason Todd has never needed anyone but you keeping tabs on him both as Jason Todd and Red Hood is different because you only do it for people you care about. You weren't talking and you still kept up with what he was doing. It makes him wonder why because you could have called. You could have asked yourself and maybe that makes the tiniest smile fall.

Jason didn't call either.

"Keeping tabs on me?" Jason asks with a rough but quiet voice, his brows pulling together.

Not keeping up with him feels impossible. As much as you're beating yourself up for everything and as much as a part of you doesn't think you deserve anything with him at all, there was always a part of you that knew you needed to keep up. Molly and Gar might know what he's doing as himself but Jason's going to keep them away from Red Hood as much as he can. Somewhere inside your stomach, you knew you'd find your way back into each other's lives one way or another. You just wanted to know what he was doing and if he were okay. The only thing you want is for him to be okay and killing people is not the easiest thing in the world, despite what it might look like sometimes. So, you've been keeping up with him just in case.

He's important to you, of course you keep tabs on him.

"I know you're keeping tabs on me, too." You whisper back to him, the cheeky smile completely gone from your lips.

Sometimes Molly will ask an odd question, something she either shouldn't know about or something off-handed. All of the Titans would just ask you which means the only person in Molly's ear is Jason. And you know damn well Molly is smart enough to know you'd figure it out. You just don't say anything. You give Molly the answer and Molly updates you on Jason's things. Okay, so she's a little in the middle of you and Jason but Molly knows you're both mostly asking about each other because you're worried. It is so stupid and you're so emotionally stunted, but it'd drive you both crazy not to know.

Jason just needs to know you're okay.

"Maybe." Jason finally gets a grin onto his lips because you knowing without saying anything until now makes his heart swell. Even apart, you just can't help yourselves.

"Exactly." You let out a soft laugh.

Jason nods a few times, his smile turning gentle. "Why, uh, why do you know that though? How many people?" Jason asks and he finds himself resting his hands on your hips as if on instinct.

"Helps." You answer casually. "Keeping track of everyone you kill and everyone you save by killing, it helps. Keep track of mine, too so...I kept track of yours...just in case." You clear your throat, dodging his eyes. "Know how you are and stuff so...uh, yeah, just...knowing it does help...helps on days where it feels like this might be worse." You explain softly. "It's not...by the way." You clarify. "Greater good but yeah...uh, yeah, you know sometimes it's a lot to carry."

The way you word it makes Jason's heart burn. His hands grip your hips a little tighter and he remembers the night outside of Jerry's. You nearly beat him to death and everything was still heavy. It was still a lot to carry and Jason told you to put it on him. When it gets too hard to carry, put it on him because he can carry the weight of it for you. You swore you'd do the same for him and Jason wonders when you seemed to lose that.

He knows. Deep down he knows because it haunts him in his sleep. That night outside of Excellent Gotham when you were finally done absolutely destroyed him. He knows that was the night you both lost everything. That he lost everything. He had almost gotten you, Tim, and Mr. Drake killed and you couldn't do it anymore. Jason still doesn't blame you even if it makes him want to lose his mind to guilt and regret all over again. It hurts because he always felt so secure with you but then that happened and it was like everything he ever had finally collapsed at his feet. An earthquake disguised in the words of "you win. I can't do it anymore. I'm done." crumbled his foundation. Your love had been wilting away ever since he came back and that was the day it all finally fell apart.

He wishes he could take it back. He wants what you had back.

"Still will carry some of the weight for you, Jay." You suck in a breath.

Can the wilting process be reversed? Can it be rebuilt? Or is it tarnished forever? Or can you rebuild something better? If Jason committed now again, would it be better? Could you get a fair fucking chance at this time?

Jason grinds his teeth thinking that he wants you. After all of this and you are still willing to be soaking wet in your clothes in a shower with him and carry the weight of devestation for him when it's too much for him. He is endlessly and hopelessly in love with you. He wants you. He wants what you had before and he wants to rebuild it. Somehow, some way, that is what he wants and fuck if he thinks he deserves it or not because you wouldn't be here if you didn't feel the same way.

Jason leans his forehead against yours. "You can still put it on me." Jason whispers softly and you gain a soft and subtle smile.

You don't know it, but Jason is entirely committed to you. Maybe you won't want to try again and Jason can't even blame you. It was a fucking shitshow and he died and you almost died. It was a fucking disaster. Maybe you weren't, but your worlds burned around the both of you and charred you both in the process. Maybe you won't want to and that's fine. But, Jason wants to try it all one more time, banter and games and then falling into something. It might not have worked the first time, but it'll be different this time. He's so sure of it and he is so sure of you. He just wants to find his footing and allow you to find yours first and then, even if it makes him want to throw himself through a window, he'll start the conversation.

You pull away, resting your hands on his cheeks. "Why don't we get up, get dry, and I can stay if you want me to?"

He always wants you to stay.

"Ya don't have to if you don't want to." Jason offers even though he knows you will anyway.

"I know." You smile softly at him before you scrunch your nose at him. "Guess you're just stuck with me."

Jason lets himself laugh. There's no such thing as being stuck with you. You don't get stuck to people and you make sure people don't get stuck to you. He is not stuck, it is always a pleasure to have you around. Even when it's hard.

Sorting yourselves out is for the best. It hurts the both of you more than words could possibly describe and a part of that does not feel it's for the best. It feels, somehow, more complicated now than it did before. It's as if you've both forgotten how to walk around each other and that part feels wrong. You both strolled right into each other's lives before and made yourselves right at home as if it were always meant to be that way. Being a part and sorting yourselves has left this gap between you that you're not sure how to build a bridge back. But it's for the best because you can't be together and offer each other the care you deserve if you're too busy dealing with your own traumas while trying to help the other one. It's a little too much to throw in a romance. It sucks and Jason knows it.

"Thanks."

"Of course." You get up, leaning over and turning the shower off finally.

You offer your hands to Jason and help him to his feet. The both of you are completely drenched and it makes Jason laugh. Your hair is soaked, the small bit of eyeliner is running down your cheeks and your t-shirt sags pathetically over you. You stick your tongue out at him and then laugh with him. He doesn't look much better than you do so you laugh, heartily and loud, the booms bouncing off of the tile surrounding you. It's all a little ridiculous.

"Why are you laughing?" You ask as you gasp for a breath.

"You look like a drowned rat." Jason bellows before he grabs the two towels from the towel bars.

"Fuck you!" You yell before sucking in a laugh and catching the towel from Jason. "So do you!"

"I know!" Jason agrees with you which only makes you laugh more and he thinks you're still the prettiest person he's ever met.

His laughing subsides first and turns into something soft and tender while you just smile at him before rolling your eyes. Jason wides his eyes to mock you and then he turns around. He rests his towel on the counter beside him before stripping down to his boxers and you can't help but watch. You're starting to feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as you grow colder but the sight of Jason Todd stripping down? That is not a sight to be missed.

He's somehow more toned now than he was before. The muscles of his back flex with every movement as he dries himself off. The Lazarus pit healed his face and the other injuries he sustained from the Joker but it didn't get rid of his previous scars. The one from his dad is still there and the other one from a fight on the streets. You still like how they look on him. Proof that he is alive. And the only thing you want to do is wrap your arms around him and kiss up his shoulder blades.

You almost do it.

Your feet almost move and you can almost feel how his skin will be warm against yours. He'll straighten his stance at first and then he'll relax. His hands will come up to your arms and a chuckle will fall from his lips the second you place the first kiss between his shoulder blades. You both would be happy.

You almost move.

But it's not your place anymore.

So, you will yourself to turn around and strip down just as he did, leaving you in just your bra and underwear to get as dry as you can. Jason peaks over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of your back to him. He could feel you practically boring into his back and he's relieved you turned around. It wouldn't normally bother him but he'd have to turn around eventually and he wasn't in for that conversation at the moment. But, he offers a glance, catching the raised lines of scars through your back, something that still boils Jason's blood.

Your scars never bothered him. Proof that you fight like hell to make it out alive. But, it pisses him off because what the fuck did you ever do to deserve the mistreatment? Nothing in this world justifies the horrors you went through and the fact you have to bear the scars for the rest of your life as if the haunting memories weren't enough. Jason gets it more than anyone, especially now. And all he wants to do is pull you into him, litter kisses across your face until you burst at the seams with laughter because you're happy. At least if you're laughing you're happy and that's what you deserve. To be happy.

Jason shakes his head and says he'll be back with some dry clothes before he darts out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He takes a few minutes to get some dry clothes on himself, making sure he's covered with a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His body starts to warm up almost immediately from the clothes and then he rummages through his things looking for something for you to wear. He grabs a pair of boxers for you, sweatpants that he only kept because they fit you better, and a red t-shirt.

When Jason gets back to the bathroom, you're seated on the toilet seat with the towel wrapped around you, cutting off just above your breasts. Jason offers you a smirk because who are the both of you if you aren't going to do this whole banter thing?

"Wanna give me a show?" Jason quips.

You snap your attention to him, seeing a pile of clothes in his hands and him now fully clothed. "No, fuck you." You chortle back as you get to your feet.

"But I'm sad." Jason gives you the fakest pout you've ever seen.

"You're still obnoxious." You quip, gesturing with one hand to get the clothes from Jason.

Jason keeps his smirk. "Better than shithead."

"Shithead." You beam up at him, still waiting for him to hand over the clothes.

"Babe." Jason laughs before handing over the clothes.

You smile back at him with the roll of your eyes. "Maybe I'd have given you one if you gave me one." You blink up at him and Jason knows damn well this is a trap.

"In your dreams." Jason holds his confidence.

You shrug, deciding to play the game. It is always the most fun that way. "Those are my best dreams."

Jason feels his cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. "Don't have just be dreams, babe."

"You fucking wish."

"If I did?" Jason quips without missing a fucking beat.

"I know you do." You roll your eyes and he knows he's won. "Turn the fuck around or get out."

Jason lets out a laugh before he leaves you to get changed, closing the door behind him. "I'm right out here if you change your mind about the show."

"Fuck you!" You yell before Jason hears you laugh behind the door.

Jason leans against his dresser, tugging out his phone to see what he's missed. He has a few texts from Gar, mostly just TikToks and one asking how things are going. Jason decides he'll respond later, not in the mood much for explaining that one. There's a text from Dick asking how Tim is doing and Jason replies that it's going fine, not offering any further explanation. He knows damn well Dick sent the same text to you and you'll elaborate more. There isn't much else on his phone so he goes to his gallery, a habit he can't quite break.

He hasn't deleted a single photo of him and you from his phone. It's an endless and helpless bit of hope that it'll be you and him at the end of this. And these are pictures from a better time because even when he was dealing with the shit from Deathstroke, at least you were both happy. Everything still seemed so simple compared to how it feels today. It feels like years have passed since you were in your bed changing your lock screens to matching pictures. It's as if you've lost your last bit of innocence in those few weeks of terror and agony. Jason figures that's just a consequence of endless trauma. He grieves for the kids you should have been allowed to be. Innocent and dumb and stubborn and carefree. He grieves for the people you both were in the pictures on his phone.

The door opens, tugging Jason's attention up and away from his phone before he pockets it. A tender smile pulls at his lips as you walk out in his clothes, he swore they always look better on you anyway. You have a pile of clothes in your hand, topped with the black towel. You walk right up to him, standing just a few inches from him and beam up at him before you offer the stack to him.

Jason tilts his head back with a laugh before he pushes off the dresser. "Am I your fucking maid now?" He quirks his brows at you.

"I don't think you want me to answer that." You laugh right back and it's something airy and warm.

Jason shakes his head. "Fuck you."

"If you ask nicely." You fire right back and you watch the subtle tint of surprise fade over his face. You let out a snicker before Jason deadpans. "It is still so much fun to fuck with you, Jay."

Jason isn't the only one chasing the innocence of a few months ago. You can feel it, too. It's dark now. Something heavy is lingering in the air everywhere you go. You hate how it feels and ignoring it doesn't do you any good but what else is there to do? At the very least, the way Jason laughs still makes you smile. At the very least, the way he laughs makes the air not feel so heavy anymore. The banter makes things feel a little bit better because at least you're talking, at least you're still on the same page. At least it's still him and you.

"Give me your damn shit." Jason grumbles through a smile while you do as told through a laugh. "Just...wait here." Jason stutters for a second before he darts out of the room.

You make your way to his bed and sit down, your hand landing on his pillow. There's something hard under it and while it isn't your business, you pick up the pillow anyway. Jason keeps a gun under his pillow and the smile evaporates in a second. You know why he does it but...it's the reality of it. The heaviness of always having a weapon at the ready even when it dangers your own life. To live in fear. To live always on guard. It's not fair.

Your heart aches for him. Even after everything, he deserves better. He has always deserved better but now he's stuck here dealing with the monstrosities he was manipulated into doing and dealing with dying. It's all not fair and you wish you knew what you could do to make it better.

You carefully grab the gun, checking the safety and you're relieved he's at least keeping the safety on. You rest it beside you before you look on the other side of the bed, not seeing any other weapons. You'd hope you would have noticed last night or this morning if he had anything out in the open. But, Jason wouldn't which makes you wonder where else he's hiding his weapons.

"What're you doing?" Jason's voice brings your attention back to him.

"Why, uh, w-why do you keep a gun under your pillow?" You ask.

Jason's teeth grind against each other, knowing he can't lie about it. He moved it last night when you weren't paying attention. He'd never have you sleep in a bed when it could go off. But, by the way you asked, that's not why you're asking. You don't even sound mad but Jason is embarrassed anyway. Exposed again, twice in one night because of course he keeps weapons at the ready. He needs to be prepared for anything. Joker took care of the job once already and Jason has been doing a great job in making more enemies than friends these days. He keeps his guard up at all times so he doesn't get beaten to death again.

"I put it there." Jason states, stuffing his hands into his pockets, practically gluing his feet to the floor. Maybe if he doesn't move, you won't ask any more questions.

You blink at him a few times. "Yeah...I-I knew that?" You question him. "That's fucking stupid, you know that?" You ask with the nod of your head. "You might have the safety on but what if it goes off?"

"Look, it's not a fucking thing. You don't have to make it one." Jason shakes his head, gesturing a leisured hand towards you, trying to brush it off as much as he can.

You roll your eyes before you get up, gun in hand with the barrel facing the floor. "I'm not judging you for it. I get it." You shrug your shoulder as you hand the weapon to him.

Jason holds it in his hand, grip tight while he watches you go to your bag. His brows furrow as you start digging into your backpack. You pull out a switchblade, metallic blue shining against the low light of his room. You walk back over to his bed and put the knife under his pillow.

"It's locked so it shouldn't open on you while you're asleep. Just don't lose that one, I like that one." You roll your shoulders, eyes locked on his. "I got those from Bruce so they're good for throwing." You explain as you swallow thickly and you can see Jason wanting to fight you on it, defend himself but he doesn't need to. Jason Todd never needs to defend himself against you. "I have one under my pillow, too." You say quietly while you watch Jason's face soften and his shoulders relax.

Being with you was always the place he never felt judged for anything, even the blood staining his hands.

"Thank you." Jason takes a few steps forward, finally unsticking his feet from the wooden floorboards. "Don't have to look after me, though." Jason says it simply, a hint of hurt in his voice. He takes a seat beside you. "Not your job anymore." Jason's eyes are dark and sad, something tugging his thoughts back to a place they shouldn't be.

"I know." You say quietly. "It was never a job in the first place." Your eyes go to your hands and Jason can feel the lump in his throat growing again but this time, for the love he thinks he lost from you. Or the love he thought he lost. "You're still my favorite person." You whisper back to him and you don't know why you say it. You only know that it's true and it's always been true. Maybe he just needs to know it's still you and him.

"Still?" Jason asks, his eyes searching over your face for any indication that you're going to throw out some quip.

"Mhm." You hum with a subtle nod.

Jason looks to his hands in his lap and he misses you more than words could possibly describe. He misses your honesty and your care and your quips and the snark. He misses every aspect of you and he is so in love with you. He thought, for just a second, maybe that feeling would fade. Time would pass and it would fade, especially lately. You'd meet again and maybe it would be so different that he wouldn't feel like his heart would burst from his ribcage at the sight of you. You always deserved better than him anyway. After everything he put you through, you deserve better than that but he can tell by how you stutter and tug at your sleeves, the way your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes after the last bit of banter, you aren't entirely happy. Being with him, for some reason he'll never understand, made you happy. And being with you always made him happy. You're sitting here and it's as if his very heart is trying to climb through his chest to get to yours. He is still so endlessly in love with you.

"I miss you." He says it quietly, looking back to you and he wishes he could tell you the other eight letters but..that all seems a little too honest and a little unfair. He doesn't expect you to say it back.

Every day you wake up and you love him. Every day you wake up and you miss him. Today was the first day in two months, you didn't miss him. You didn't miss him because he was down the hall. You didn't miss him because he was here and so were you. Today was the first day in two months, your chest didn't ache with the thought of him. You miss him, too and you miss his smile and his laugh and the new addition of the white streak of hair. You miss his sarcasm and his ability to turn anything into some sort of joke. You always miss him. And you are endlessly in love with him.

"I miss you, too." You whisper back, eyes locking on his.

The haunted words of 'I love you' scrape down your throat, knowing it's not your place to say them. It's too honest, too vulnerable, too exposed. It's too much for both of you and it's not fair to put that on him. It's not fair to put it on him because you aren't sure what you'd do if he knew. It's agonizing swallowing the words. You have felt more at home today than you have in two months. Jason deserves to know you still love him despite it all but you can't say it.

The room falls silent, the air between you growing humid and thick. Tonight was a bad night. They happen sometimes. Sometimes the weight of it all drags Jason down and he can't pick himself up. But you walk right in and don't even hesitate. You always know what to do and you never even question it. Tonight was a bad night but you were here and he is thankful for you. He's coming into himself as Red Hood, knowing, most nights, that what he's doing is for the greater good. He's getting along with Bruce and they're actually trying for once. He sees Leslie once a week. He is trying, making a solid effort to move past everything that's ever made him feel like a burden. It's the forgiving himself for what happened that drags him down.

Everyone was right. It was his choice to go to Crane. He didn't have to. Sure, maybe it wasn't really him while he was high, but it was. It was him making that choice to keep taking it, it was his choice to ignore every single offer you ever made to bring him back just because he was pissed and stubborn and he felt abandoned. So many people have suffered because of what he did under Crane's control. It may not have been the real him but he still did it. And that's a very difficult thing to forgive himself for. And it only ever gets worse when you're involved because you were the one person who never even thought about giving up on him until you were given no other choice. It's a very hard thing to forgive himself for but he is trying.

Leslie says he needs to learn to forgive himself, everyone else has forgiven him and that should mean something.

He's trying.

He's trying to forgive himself and be better. He is trying to accept the care and kindness of others without second guessing their motives or when they'll up and leave.

He's trying not to push.

"I..." Jason stutters. "I really miss you." Jason says again, hoping you get it because he can't stand to not have you in his life anymore.

Your face softens as your heart shatters through your chest. You forgave him for everything the second it all happened. Sometimes, you can feel yourself upset about some of it but it's just the grief kicking in again. The grief of everything you both lost the second he made the decision to go to Crane. It is the one decision he has made that you don't understand but you aren't Jason. You weren't Robin. You weren't stripped of the most important thing to you, of your identity. Not like Jason was. And you forgive him anyway because Jason doesn't like to hurt people. Especially people he cares about. Pushing has always been a way to hurt himself, not other people. You forgive him for everything even if he doesn't know it.

You wish it were different so you wouldn't be suffering through the pain of missing each other. It doesn't seem very fair, especially tonight.

You know what he means.

"I really miss you, too." Your voice is honest and Jason thinks you even sound scared, a reminder of how he sounded the first time things got a little too real with your feelings. Those words hold the same meaning that they do for Jason. Everything you're both too scared to say tonight.

You lean forward, resting your forehead on his shoulder and you know your heart will only ever belong to him. It'll always be safe with him. Jason's eyes soften as he looks down at you and instead of making some quip or joke, he lets you sit in the moment. He rests his cheek against your head and all he wants to do is kiss you. This isn't easy for you either.

You lift your head and Jason's eyes are big and green, the prettiest shade of green you've ever seen. He is still the only thing you have ever wanted. He will always be the only thing you'll ever want. And Jason can feel it, too, like an invisible string tugging you together in every universe, in every timeline. You are the only thing he has ever wanted. You are the only thing he will ever want.

Jason hopes you know he feels it, too so he rests his forehead against yours first this time. Your eyes close as your shoulders relax and Jason finally lets out a breath before his eyes close. He'll never ask because that's too soon into whatever this friendship is going to be but he's hoping you stay awhile. Stays past morning tomorrow and into the night. You don't have to talk about any of it, he just wants you to stay and he wants to stay just like this because it's the safest he's felt in two months. And it's like a reflex, embedded deep into his DNA, he brushes his nose against yours as he feels your breath fan over his lips.

You match him but instead, you brush your lips against his. You haven't kissed him in a month and a half yet it feels like it's been an entire century. Kissing him has always washed away every doubt and ounce of sadness you've ever had. Him kissing you has always made you feel wanted, the two of you against the world. That's how it should have been and that's how it should be now. You want to kiss him so badly you think you might burst into tears. Life was always better with him in it. You want to kiss him to show him that even if you can't be together, you still love him with every ounce of your existence.

Jason's head starts to spin and he holds his breath. He's thrown right back to that time in the manor when you told him to prove it. You said it and he never put in a single thought after that. He took the leap and he thinks it was one of the best decisions he's ever made. That kiss sealed your fate together, even for just that short time. It brought you to him in a way he didn't think he'd ever be lucky enough to have. Being with you made him feel lucky for the first time in a very long time.

Maybe you can do this again. Maybe the way for you to do anything is to tiptoe into it. It didn't work last time but it wasn't for lack of trying. It was Jason who fucked it up but it had nothing to do with you and him. Maybe falling back into each other is how it's supposed to be. Maybe you could fix it all. It's just lonely without you. He's terrified but your lips brush over his again and you're making the first move this time. You can still quiet every horrible thought he's ever had. He loves you with every ounce of his very existence.

Jason brings his hand to your cheek, running his thumb over your cheek. Your skin is always soft under his callused fingers. He thought maybe you'd back out because you do that. You run from everything, you back out, it's all a joke and that's that. It would be incredibly painful but...you don't. You lean into him instead. So, Jason finally closes the bit of distance between you and brings his lips to yours.

You smile against him and Jason can breathe again. He can breathe again as you kiss him back and your mouth moves with his. This might be a one-time thing but that's okay because even if it's just for this moment, you choose him. And he chooses you. You will always choose each other. In the chaos of your lives, somehow, you find your way back right here with your hands pulling the collar of his shirt closer to you and his hands on your cheeks. You choose each other anyway. Despite the pain and heartbreak and chaos and all of the terrible, horrible, thoughts, you choose each other. Even if it is just for a moment, Jason decides to take the second leap and he wants this moment to last as long as you will let it. If you'll have him.

Jason moves his hands to your hips, giving them a squeeze before he tugs you closer to him. You get the hint and without breaking the kiss, you move to straddle his lap, Jason guiding you down. His hands squeeze your hips and he tugs you as close to him as possible while your hands find their way to his shoulders and then the back of his neck. Your fingers tangle in the damp hair at the base of his neck. The kiss grows sloppy and desperate, teeth clanking against each other and it is the most cathartic feeling the both of you have had in a long time.

It is healing parts of you both you didn't think possible. Normally, it's Jason questioning your feelings because why would you ever love him after all the damage he's done? But, it's you questioning that as you kiss him with everything in you. You're just like everyone else, why would he forgive you for that? Why would he kiss you like he's still hopelessly in love with you? You broke a promise to him and he's still here and you have no idea why. But, tonight, you're going to allow yourself to be thankful. All that matters right now is that you're here, together, just him and you.

Jason swears you have left a permanent make spelling out your name across his heart and Jason wouldn't have any other name in your place. And a part of him thinks you know, too. It's as if it glows and heats up the center of his chest whenever you're around. It's like his heart becomes a beacon of light on the top of a lighthouse the second you kiss him. You make him feel alive again and he doesn't have to feel so alone when you're here.

You feel so at home with him. Every piece of paranoia that's been coursing through you fades away and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, with Jason you're safe. After everything, he will always protect you. You will always protect him. You're tied together even if you don't want to admit it to each other. You've ruined each other for anyone that would ever come after and the both of you have never been so thankful.

Jason pulls away, his chest heaving as his eyes open slowly. Your eyes meet his slowly, pupils lust-blown and you have a loving and lazy smile spread across your lips. He thinks he could do this all night long.

He gains his signature smirk. "Did I win that time?" Jason's eyes glance to your lips.

You deadpan and shake your head. You expect absolutely nothing less from him. "Shut the fuck up."

Jason lets out the warmest chortle you've ever heard. "That's a yes."

"Just shut up and kiss me." You groan before colliding your lips with his.

You can feel him grin wildly against your lips before he falls right back into rhythm with you.

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[fckwritersblock]

die with a smile - Chapter 3

Eren Yaeger x Black Reader

Description:

Word count: 1,800+

A/n: I am so sorry for the delay. If you ever posted anything on Tumblr before you may have had the misfortune of losing your entire post. Which is exactly what happened to me 😭😭😭

I’ve had this happen before when writing, and to avoid this, I normally type everything in my notes. Welp! For some reason while was doing all my writing and edits and everything for this one I did it directly in my Tumblr and fucked everything up and half of it is gone. I had half left last night and spent all day today rewriting it. So per usual it’s unedited and I don’t know if it’s as good as what I originally had, but I hope you guys like. 

If you’d like to be added to the tag list let me know

Tag list: @faerie-soirxx , @sasuvkee , @withthistreaserisummon

Masterlist

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Nervous

Eren was nervous, desperately trying to bury those feelings deep down. Based on his memories, everything was happening right on time, just as it was supposed to, but there was no room for error. The stakes were too high.

He couldn’t quite grasp the role Y/n played in all this, but he was certain she would help connect him with all the appropriate parties in some way, shape, or form. When it came to her and her part in the future chaos Eren could only see pieces of it, glimpses of a complicated puzzle. It felt strange; anything surrounding her seemed slightly fuzzy, and he had no idea why.

Speaking of Y/n, it had been a few days since he last saw her, and almost two weeks since they had spoken; the day he confessed to knowing her brother and wanting to help her break free. If the time frame between their meetings remained consistent, it would be just a few more days before he would see her again.

He recalled their last session together the one after the reveal. There were no words spoken between the two seeing as she had been accompanied by two strangers in lab coats, who seemed to be meticulously taking notes on her healing abilities.

Whoever they were, he could tell she was uncomfortable. Unlike their previous encounters, she didn’t say a word to him this time; she kept her head down, biting the inside of her cheek as if trying to contain her anxiety. He could sense her distress, even from a distance. Up close, he could tell she was stressed. While her touch was just as gentle as before her movement seem to be more meticulous and thought out. No extra bit of comfort, gentle in touches or anything of the sort like before.

She didn’t say not one word while she worked, the only ones doing the talking and mumbling were her two observers. Y/n made eye contact with him once, but it was fleeting. She gave a quick nod, a silent message that she was done before stepping back, waiting for the two men to give her further instructions.

Inside, Eren was seething.

This is why I'm here he thought, anger coursing through his veins. People shouldn’t be treated like this—held captive and experimented on. Used. Treated as if they are anything less than human.

It had been a long time since he felt that kind of fury boiling within him. Fury, he could do nothing with.

Ironic isn’t it?

One of the most powerful beings had to act like a docile, insignificant subhuman to achieve greatness.

My situation is temporary he reminded himself. Soon, I won’t have to worry

That was four days ago. While he still had three more to go before his next treatment, someone decided to shake things up for him a bit.

“I think you could use some fresh air, don’t you?” Nurse Patsy smiled warmly as she entered the room.

Before he knew it, he was being led to the common area outside, where a few other patients were milling about—some chitchatting, others aimlessly walking in circles, while others simply sat or stood in solitude. The sun was shining, and it was a beautiful day overall.

It is a nice day, he thought taking a moment to appreciate the change of scenery.

“Feeling better already, I see.” Patsy commented, noticing the way his shoulders relaxed slightly.

She was pleased with herself.

Patsy really was a sweet person—motherly, in a way. He could tell she genuinely cared for her job and the people she took care of, regardless of whether they were Marley or Eldian.

The thought made his chest ache, reminding him of his own mother and her tragic demise.

One he had a hand.

The same way he’d have hand in Patsy’s.

“I’m not sure you’ll see any familiar faces here—oh, Y/n! I see you’re outside enjoying the weather. Mind if Mr. Kruger joins you?”

There she was, sitting quietly on a bench with her back against the wall, staring off into the distance. A small flower was twirled between her fingertips, while her other hand danced along the delicate petals. With a subtle tilt of his head, he noticed that one of her ankles was chained, the metal linking her to the wall.

Eren’s eyes found Y/n’s, but once again, she looked away, this time shifting her gaze to Patsy. She offered a nod.

“No, not at all,” she said softly.

Whynthur made a sound of bewilderment upon hearing her voice. Y/n never really spoke to others. Half the staff probably didnt even know what she sounded like. Put she would speak to Patsy and two of the other charge nurses. She didn’t have a choice, but to speak to the higher ups in charge. And now, now she had Eren to talk to.

Eren quite liked the sound of her voice; it was soothing and a welcome distraction from the chaos of their reality.

Eren’s wheel chair was parked at the near the edge of the bench right next to her. The quiet between the two was peaceful once they were left alone .

A bit of time passed, neither of them saying a word but secretly enjoying each other's company. It was Eren who finally broke the silence.

“Are you okay?” he called, trying to make his voice sound as gentle as possible, though he hadn’t really used it in quite some time.

Y/n hesitated, her fingers stilling on the flower. “I’m… managing,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

The question felt strange to her; nobody ever really asked how she was doing. Occasionally, Patsy would inquire during the days of those visits, especially when things were really bad, but that was it. Sure, the patients were nice—especially the children who came through the facility for treatment. They would speak to her sometimes, but she never really had a friend.

Eren could see the sadness in her eyes, and it fueled his anger once more. “You shouldn’t have to just manage,” he said, his voice filled with passion.

“I’m used to it,” Y/n shrugged, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Because for her, it was.

It shouldn’t be

“Who were those men?” Eren asked, hoping she would provide some intel.

“Striker and Stone.” He noticed her shudder at their names. “They come quarterly to check if anything has changed with me. They monitor how my body reacts to healing others and how patients' bodies respond as well. They take samples from me and check on my regenerative process the same way they do with our Titan champions here.”

“Titans,” Eren echoed, his mind racing with the implications.

“Yeah. The way our champions heal in their human form is at an accelerated rate compared to normal people.”

“So I’ve heard,” Eren commented, drawing from the firsthand knowledge he had about Titans.

He wanted so badly to trust her completely, to share his plans with her. He felt that she would understand, but he wanted to take things slow. She had her own way of surviving, and until he fully understand it and was certain it was time for them to escape, he didn’t want to disrupt that. For now, he would keep everything she needed to know for both her safety and his own.

“Well, as long as there are no fatal wounds to the head, they heal pretty quickly,” Y/n sighed, closing her eyes slightly, a faint shake of her head accompanying her words. “Because I have this healing ability, they assume we’re connected in some way and share some of the same traits. What they don’t understand is the extent to which mine goes, so they like to push and test it.”

So like Hange, but less compassionate Eren thought remember his friend and commander.

“Do they hurt you often?” Eren asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer. He noticed the way she pulled down one of her sleeves, as if hiding something.

“I do not heal like the Titans do,” she replied. “Faster than the average human, yes, but if you cut too deeply, it can be fatal for me.”

“I see.”

Everything about Y/n's situation felt absolutely barbaric to him. As much as he wanted to know more, he wouldn’t push her right now—not out in the open like this.

“Enough about me. What do you need?”

“Hmm?” He replied, surprised by the sudden shift.

“What do you need to set in motion whatever it is you’re planning to do?”

“What makes you think I need something?” She rolled her eyes at his attempt poor to deflect.

“Cut the crap. You’re an observer, Eren, but so am I. There’s not much to do in this place. I know the ins and outs of this entire operation and then some. Not to mention, I can read people extremely well.”

“Yeah? Read me,” he challenged, a hint of defiance in his tone.

“I’ll give you a quick one—if you tell me how to help you.”

“An eye for an eye, then?” he suggested, a spark of intrigue lighting up his eyes.

She turned to look at him, staring up for a moment before breaking into a grin. Focusing back on the view before them, she gave a small ‘hm,’ surprised by his sense of humor.

“You’re in pain, outside of your physical situation,” she said slowly. “It’s also mental and emotional. You’re angry, and that drives you. You’re smart and calculated.”

“You are also sad and a bit lonely,” Y/n added, her voice low, just enough for him to hear.

A huge part of her wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to let him know that he wasn’t alone in that feeling. It was what she would have wanted someone to do for her. Alas, she didn’t know him that well, nor how comfortable he was with touch outside of their healing sessions. Instead of using physical contact to convey her feelings of empathy, she voiced them.

“It’s okay. I am too,” Y/n confessed, her eyes finding his.

Silence enveloped them as he stared at her, completely caught off guard.

For the first time in a long time, Eren felt seen. Seen by a young woman he had met only a month ago. It was validating—this sudden, strange, and foreign feeling was almost peaceful. He felt heard without needing to say a word. It was as if they were two normal individuals having a normal conversation, getting to know one another.

It was almost as if he didn’t have to fight.

Almost.

But he was fighting. This was all part of the plan, after all. The strategy he had come up with—and if he knew anything about war, it was that the greatest advantage came from being able to get into the enemy’s head. To reach into their minds and destroy them from the inside out. That’s exactly what he was here to do.

“Can you get a message to someone for me?” he asked, his voice steady.

“They don’t let me leave or roam by myself,” she replied, glancing away for a moment. “Besides, it’s not like I have anyone wanting to communicate with me. So, no, I can’t.”

There was silence again, comfortable as they both processed their thoughts. The distant sound of footsteps running toward them made Y/n perk up a bit.

“But I know someone who can.”

A brief moment after those words left her lips, a small boy approached them, seemingly out of breath.

“Hi, Miss Y/n!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I haven’t seen you outside in a while. It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”

“It is a nice day. It has been a while, hasn’t it? How are you?” Y/n smiled in the boy’s direction.

“I’m good! Got banged up a bit during training, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Y/n noticed the scrape above his brow. Under the guise of moving his hair out of his face, she discreetly used her power to heal it.

“Thanks, Miss!” The young boy blushed, his smile brightening. “Hey! Who’s your friend?”

“This is Mr. Kruger,” she introduced. “He’s one of our veterans who was injured in recent battle. Same one Porco got all banged up in. Mr. Kruger, this one here is in competition to be our next Armored Titan.”she said, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she turned to the boy.

“Meet Falco,”

[griddlebait]

hi hello are you still alive?

hi hello yes i am (barely) (kidding). explanation for where i’ve been and sckl stuff below !

so, without going into detail, something very unexpected came up near the beginning of this month that had to take priority over literally everything. i haven’t been home with my laptop (which i use to write) much or even on my phone too often, hence the inactivity/lack of responses/no update. i’m doing okay, and i’m now back home and back to writing but i really can’t say when the update will be ready, leading to:

i don’t want to call it a hiatus because at least to me that implies a more intentional break, but i will say that there are going to be gaps between updates. which i guess might technically be a hiatus? idk. i don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up by giving an estimate or a schedule because it seems like every time i do something comes up 😭 writing sckl brings me a lot of happiness and i still spend most of my free time working on it so there’s definitely not going to be an official break (at least for the time being)

i hope this is ok with you guys! i’ll still be here to talk about the fic and i’ll let yall know when the chapters are in the editing/beta stage. i’m so sorry about saying the chapter should be ready by the beginning of the month and then ghosting, it wasn’t intentional and i won’t do it again. if something similar happens i’ll make sure to let you all know that i’ll be gone for a while.

thank you as always for your kindness and patience 🫶🫶 !! your encouragement and support really means a lot.

[melanated-writersblock]

Confessional - A Yunho Series *Coming Soon*

Priest!Yunho x Black!Female!Reader

~ You and your childhood friend Yunho promised to do everything together. But as you got older, things shifted, and you began to feel differently towards each other. Now, Yunho’s about to join the church and any emotions you meant to share with him will have to be disregarded. Or will they?

What to expect in future parts: smut, some angst in there, fluff, I meannnnn…..sex? YES. cowgirl, unprotected sex (Y’ALL BETTER NOT DO THIS IRL), oral (m+f receiving), praise, slippery slope, semi-public sex, more tags to be stated specifically in each part…

Author’s Note: Well what can I say….when life gives you religious trauma, you take that trauma and oddly somehow end up watching Fleabag and getting your brain short-circuited in the mindset of finding priests hot idk. Mix that with my current Yunho brain rot and you get THIS MASTERPIECE!😀 I also started writing this @ 2 AM so give me grace PLEASE😭 WwaBRiM but everyone (18+ only! MDNI) is welcomed to read and enjoy! (P.S. I EDITED THE PIC OF YUNHO WITH THE CLERICAL COLLAR ON!!! *top middle*)

💫LET ME KNOW IF I SHOULD MAKE A TAG LIST AND IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ON IT💫

LIKES ARE NOT ENOUGH, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE BETTER! IF YOU WANT NEW CHAPTERS TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! ALSO DON’T COPY MY SHIT. I WILL KNOW.

[justagalwhowrites]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags, @sawymredfox and @burntheedges!

This is kind of a special WIP Wednesday because I JUST wrote the last words of Halcyon 😭 I seriously think I'm going to cry. I'm going to get this edited and posted probably tomorrow but, in the meantime, here's the last ever Halcyon teaser. I'm sorry this has taken so long to write but a LOT happened for them! There's a time jump in this chapter so there was a lot of ground to cover.

I hope you're ready to say goodbye to these guys. I don't know that I am but their story is at an end and I'm so happy for them!

When you’d left for your book tour two months ago, though, he’d been an anxious mess. He’d tried to hide it as best he could but knowing that you were going to be far away and dealing with everything pregnancy threw at you without him there to make it better made his stomach knot and his chest get tight. He did what he could to prepare, establishing more of a relationship with your agent so he could just text or call her to check in on you and get an honest assessment of how you were doing. He had the list of everywhere you’d be for your events, the names of your hotels and bookstores where you were holding signings and universities you were doing readings. He made a habit of calling ahead to the hotels and having them put the DoorDash order he sent of all your current favorites into your room before you got there. He always tuned into the live streams of your events, even if he just had it on the background while he helped Sarah with her homework or made dinner or got caught up on work, luxuriating in the sound of your voice as you told the story you’d poured yourself into for so long to your crowd of adoring fans. He ended every night on video chat with you, staying on until you fell asleep, your iPad propped up on the pillows next to you, his set where your pillows would be if he wasn’t wrapped around them because they still smelled a bit like you. He traced the outline of your sleeping face with his eyes and, while he wanted more than anything else to be beside you so he could touch you - actually, really, touch you - he was so damn proud of you. You’d worked so hard, you’d made something amazing, and you were sharing it with the world. He could handle being away from you for a little while if it meant you got to have the success you more than deserved. 

I would normally tag people but I'll be honest, I'm so tired right now that I don't have the brain power lol so if you see this, please consider it your tag!

Love you!!

[11queensupreme11]

Also, another question! As you are well aware, I am writing a fanfic book inspired from your fanfic thanks to your permission. However, i been struggling with what type between these two a storyline or a react. Do you think I should do a react first or the fanfic first? Also, I am debating on either have Luke, Ethan, or Male Oc Chase as Percy love intrest in the PJO world, which should I do?

i can't TELL you which one to do first cuz it all depends on YOU, buuuuut these are two very different types of books so i'll just list out the pros and cons of starting either one first and let you decide 😅

REACTION FIC

pros:

easier/quicker to make cuz all you're doing is copy-pasting a chapter, making any necessary edits (like changing names), and THEN putting reactions. so 50% of the chapter would be the og scenes and then the other 50% would be reactions; less writing imo, UNLESS you're the type to make long reactions which are also really nice!

(btw, i recently found out that some people tend to copy-paste the chapter and also add in the reactions simultaneously while editing??? that worked out TERRIBLY for me cuz i was so exhausted. i changed it up to copy-pasting the entire chapter first, editing the whole thing to put the changes and fix format, and THEN put down the reactions. this also helps to make lengthier reactions cuz you got the energy to do so instead of wasting it trying to simultaneously fix the og scenes!)

you can be really loose with the plot lol. it's a reaction fic, you don't really need a "climax, plot twist, resolution, character development, etc." like other fics do

cons:

gotta be careful on how you write the reactions 😭 this is a personal issue that i've been having trouble with rn 😭 i keep going back and changing shit cuz some of my reactions are so flat or downright cringy or just way too short

lot of work if you're gonna add tv/movie scenes. this is if you're planning on intermixing it with the tv show like i am, i suggest you look up the transcripts for the scenes so you can copy-paste instead of painstaking typing every word out! THEN you can rewatch the scene to describe movement/facial features

STORY-FOCUSED FIC

pros:

you have more freedom! with reaction fics, you'd be restricted to the same setting, the same characters reacting, etc.

you get to have fun fleshing out ur characters by giving them character development

cons:

no shortcuts lol. everything will be typed out, no copy-pasting huge chunks so get ready for more work!

gotta plan out the basic outline of the whole fic so you actually know what the goal for ur fic is. could be very tedious!

CAN BE STRESSFUL AS FUCK, CUZ SOMETIMES YOU END UP WRITING SOMETHING SO GOOD BUT IT'S NOT PART OF UR OUTLINE SO NOW YOU GOTTA DEBATE ON CHANGING IT, OR CHANGING UR OUTLINE 💀

anyway as for the love interest question....... idk bro, it all depends on how u write percy; would ur percy be compatible with so-and-so??? would it be easier for you to write their kind of dynamics??? etc.

[hollow-lime-green]

ive been sitting on my 2sorcs thoughts for so long and i just have to pop in to say….talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, showstopping and everything else lady gaga said. was expecting that last chapter to hurt but golly gee did not think the shit would be hitting the fan at such treacherous velocities. amazing work.

a few questions: will we be seeing suguru’s perspective of that clown show of a date in fellas? did he know it was a date? was he picking up what satoru was putting down? why did that go so badly for everyone involved 😭

obsessed w u and ur work. hope you’re doing well!!

💜💜💜💜💜

you are so sweet! this ask made my day :)

when you're gojo satoru, you gotta go all out. shit hit the fan at mach 5. (stay tuned for more under the cut)

we most likely won't see suguru's pov in fellas, but it might be a fun side piece tbh. i may have mentioned this in a different ask, but the whole final chapter (with some diff scenes) was originally written in suguru's pov, so like, the words are there (well i may have deleted them but they're in my mind).

suguru absolutely knew/thought it was a date, he was very much picking up what satoru was putting down, and he was indeed actively flirting and trying his best to boyfriend at any given moment (holding doors, sharing jackets, paying for food, offering to beat a guy up). we know why it went bad - because we are in satoru's head and satoru is IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL. but suguru doesn't know that, so imagine what he thinks... (he's definitely going to blame himself)

i am doing unwell, but somewhat intentionally, so it's fine. i got my first round thesis revisions 2 days ago and have blasted through them. i should be finishing my 90 pages of edits today if all goes well, which is a pretty blazing pace. the good thing is that it's mostly text/formatting/phrasing edits plus some procedural stuff (caption format, etc), and i didn't get very much criticism on my science! yay! that means i did it right! unfortunately now i have to do the word > LaTeX conversion, which I have been avoiding for a reason... (readers call in if you want to vent about LaTeX)

i'm defending on 4/10, which gives me a ton of time (most people here have about a 3 week turnaround from thesis completion to defense, mine will be about 7 weeks - my advisors are extremely hard to pin down and get responses from, so i have to compensate by having my shit extremely together)

once this is over, i can take a deep breath and go full tilt back into fanfic writing, healing my body from this, and learning french 🍁.

p.s. (secret bonus info if you made it through my ramble) if all goes well, i think you're going to get the first chapter of fellas very ahead of schedule. for reasons i think i want to post it before some of the side pieces, i think it'll set up those very well. but it means there will be a big gap between ch 1 and ch 2, so i was like, unsure about that. but i reaaaaally wanna post ch 1 so. :)

[hoeforalbedo]

ᗪEᗩᒪ ᗯITᕼ TᕼE ᗪEᐯIᒪ ✟

Chapter 2

———————— ♱ ————————

WARNING: PLEASE READ

Sensitive topics including vague details of SA. Reader will display many mental health such as depression, PTSD, and anxiety. I will also discuss after effects of said trauma such as hyper sexuality, over-sexualizing oneself, over trusting, and many more. (Many cope in different ways however I am more familiar with this side of the spectrum as I have taken this information from my experience.) Suicidal topics. Horror. Manipulation. Blasphemy. Religious horror and possibly hints of religious trauma. Demons. Paganism. Witchcraft (I try to depict witchcraft as accurate as I can however if I make it too accurate, it will seem boring so I did add magical abilities. I write it based off of how I practice it). Possession. Death. Murder. Exorcism. Sex. Ritualistic sex. Female reader. A bit of crack (reader doesn’t take things seriously. Humor is the way of coping 😭)

If any of these themes trigger you, please do not read. You have already been warned.

Writing criticism is appreciated since I want to get better in writing.

Note: This story is heavily inspired by Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, and honestly I was going to write a story like that but I wanted something original. I did leave in some ideas I really liked so to anyone who watched it, you guys may know a little bit of the direction I’m going with for a specific character. Also yay, I did manage to post it but Chapter 3 may take a bit. Edit: I am changing it up a bit. I like the idea but I felt the storyline was getting too strict and complicated. I was losing freedom with how I wanted the story to go so I'm editing it a bit.

Summary: Everything is happening too fast and it just keeps getting worse. Hey, at least you got to see a friend!

———————— ♱ ————————

Hongjoong’s body is tangled with yours with only a thin blanket covering you both. He feels so good as he thrusts slowly and passionately into your sopping wet hole.

“Hongjoong,” Whines fell from your lips like a prayer. You dig your nails into his back and bury your face into the crook of his neck.

“Feel so good, squeezing me so right, doll,” He groans in your ear, his tip pressing against your cervix snugly. 

“Joong, please,” You gasp as his pace quickens, driving you closer and closer to the taste of your sweet orgasm.

“That’s right. Say my name, doll. Scream it. Worship me,”He starts grunting out nonsense, although it sounded right under the drunken haze of pleasure. His thrust only became rougher, drawing strings of profanity from you. “So sinful,” He chuckles. “Tell God how much you love this demon’s cock,” He cackles, tearing you away from pleasure. When you look at him, his eyes are rolled back to his head and some black substance oozes out of his mouth. 

You let out a horrid scream and reached for anything on your night stand. “Get off of me!” You cry, grabbing some object and hitting Hongjoong on the head with it. He then collapses over you and you shakily toss away the object you killed him with, a crucifix.

He lifts his head up, “You can’t run from the mark of lust.”

You sat up immediately, ending whatever nightmare that was. It felt so real, and you swear it felt so good before the whole demonic stuff happened. 

That night you prayed. To be honest, during times like these, you suddenly become a devout Christian, or was it Catholic? Does it matter? They both worship God.

“Have you ever seen Doctor Who?” You walk around the courtyard of the church as you ask the priest some questions. The courtyard doesn’t seem to be well taken care of, the shrubs over growing and eroding statues. The grass could also use some cutting.

“No, can’t say that I have,” He shakes his head.

“Well there’s these weeping angels. They’re pretty much statues and when you blink or when the lights go out, they move. I would have nightmares from them.” You remembered you were at the dorms during your college days and your roommate had introduced you to the show. After watching the weeping angels in particular did she start regretting it, as you woke up in cold sweats. You had dreams of the angels chasing you. 

“Well the church has plenty of those,” Hongjoong laughs as you shudder at the thought. The leaves crunched under your shoes, as the weather had gotten colder and it seems the world is dying around you.

“Do they ever move?” You ask jokingly as you link arms with him.

He shrugs, “Yeah.”

You look up at him, scoffing, “Oh really?” 

He smirks as he nods. “Yeah. There’s one behind you?”

You turn your head to look behind and there was nothing. “Liar,” You huff and Hongjoong came to a sudden stop. Confused, you turned your head back to face the front to question why he stopped. 

“No I’m not,” He says as you come face to face with the stone cold statue that looks at you with empty eyes.

“You are so mean!” You raise your voice but you weren’t offended by the harmless joke.

“Michael just wanted to say hi.”

“Well I’m saying goodbye,” You roll your eyes as you walk ahead of him.

He laughs as he watches you slowly walk off, eyes glazing over your figure and the way you kick some rocks while muttering under your breath. His gaze wanders back up and stops at your waist, or at least the middle of your spine much closer to your tailbone. “Hey, you’re bleeding.”

You wave him off, “Not falling for it.”

“No, I'm serious. You’re bleeding.”

“I would feel if I were bleeding,” You turn to him, brows furrowed.

“I could take a picture to show you,” He offers.

You sigh and hand him your phone. He leans down and pulls your shirt up by an inch. “Oh shit!” He gasps, making you panic.

“What. What. What happened?” You ask, trying to look at your back for yourself.

“Let me just,” He snaps the picture then turns the phone screen to you.

“Oh fuck,” You whisper as you zoomed into the picture. It’s slightly still bloody, however you can easily make out swollen red marks that form into an unknown symbol. It’s almost as if you’ve been branded. “Hongjoong, this seems demonic. I’m too hot to be possessed. . .” You whimper, eyes brimming with tears. “My gorgeous face would be ruined by a demon!” Wails come from you as you can already imagine that one girl from The Exorcist. In all horror movies, the host always becomes ugly after possession. “Like I wanted to die but not like this! Even if I’m on my deathbed, I have to remain gorgeous!”

“Y/N, I fear you have questionable priorities, however I can recommend some things since we’re not sure if you’re truly possessed,” Hongjoong says, rather too calmly.

“How do you know?” She grabs onto his shirt and shakes him. “How are you so sure?” She looks deep into his eyes.

Hongjoong rolls his eyes and pulls out a rosary. “What do you feel when you look at this?”

“Trauma. Those times when my parents would force me to recite the rosary ten times,” You shudder. “Wait- does that mean I’m possessed?” You gasp dramatically.”

“Do you feel violent? Like you’re going to hurt me. Or perhaps do you feel physical pain?” He asks.

You scoff, “What? No! Of course not.” 

“Then you’re not possessed,” He flicks your forehead earning a grunt from you as you rub the spot.

“But how do you know?” She insists.

“Because as a former exorcist, I know that most demons would immediately react to anything holy, and the fact you’re standing in front of the church shows that you’re not possessed. There is a rare case where a demon doesn’t react at all, meaning the demon is very strong, but there are still some symptoms unless the demon fully takes control of the body,” He explains.

“Oh, okay,” You sigh in relief. “I’m good.”

“But it could also mean that you’re a target of a demon.”

“We’ll get rid of it! How do I get rid of it!” You cry.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but laugh at how dramatic you are. “Sleep with a crucifix in your room, pray at night, and go to confession and apologize for the lack of faith,” He instructs.

“Is that 100% foolproof?” You ask.

“No.”

“Damn,” You huff.

Suddenly, a loud high pitched scream causes you both to freeze and look at each other in panic. Collectively, you both decide to run to where the screams came from. Once Hongjoong pushes the heavy wooden doors open, he looks around and sees that the deacon has already arrived at the scene. 

“Seonghwa, what happened?” Hongjoong asks as his gaze falls on the nun, Sister Anna, who’s crying next to the man. Before them is another nun who remains unmoving.

“I’m afraid the killer has gotten into the parish, Father,” Seonghwa says calmly.

Hongjoong walks up to them with you following close behind. The closer you got the more you were able to make out the scene. “Oh my God,” you gasp, earning a look from Seonghwa for using God’s name in vain.

The nun on the pew sits stiff, her hands tied together with a rosary. She looks at the huge cross above the altar however her eyes are deep pits of emptiness. She’ll never see God. The killer scooped out her eyes. Was she praying while getting killed? How did she get killed in the first place? Not a single gunshot or stab wound. Her body is just there, praying.

“I’ll prepare the funeral right away,” Seonghwa says with a lack of emotion, taking the body as if it was nothing.

“Shouldn’t we leave the body so that the police can investigate?” You ask.

“And ruin the peace of the church? Giving a proper funeral for Sister Mary is what she would have wanted,” Seonghwa says sternly, to which you don’t understand. Someone died. Why is he being so calm about this?

“Look, Y/N,” Hongjoong turns to you. “I think you should go home. I don’t think you should see any more of this.”

“But-“ You start but the look in his eyes, the look that says, ‘question and you’ll see the consequences,’ forces you to shut up and turn away from. “Yeah, I’ll see you,” You force out before walking down the long aisle till you get to the huge set of wooden doors. 

You have decided to cut through the woods, realizing that it’s a very quick shortcut to your house. As always, you pass by the huge oak tree. Maybe this is the reason the town is called Oakheart. 

“You bear the mark of lust,” A woman sneers.

Your head spins to the voice. It’s the woman from before. This time, she wears a black thin veil over her head.

“That. How did you-“ You are flabbergasted. You recalled your dream. You can’t run from the mark of lust. “Who are you?”

At the corner of her lips curve into a smirk. She transforms in a blink of an eye. The once wrinkled skin becomes tight and youthful, although there’s still age. She looks very mature. Her eyes are sharp and her blue eyes are piercing cold. Her once pruned lips are pulled tight, the color dark red like wine, or even blood.

“What the fuck!” You scream as you back away. “The woman. The old lady. The grandma! How? What,” You stutter, trying to make sense of everything. You’re not high or drunk so this must be real, right? You pinch your skin to make sure. 

You could care less for an explanation at this point as you run off. First you witnessed a murder. Now you’re seeing things. It’s best if you just go home.

“You can’t run, child! You’re a beacon! They’ll find you!” The woman calls from behind you.

You keep running and running until you make it to your street. You’re never going through the forest ever again. You don’t even look back, nor look at where you are going so it’s no surprise when you collide with someone.

“Are you okay?” The man asks, though the kindness is unexpected. In New York, you know you’d get many nasty remarks.

“I’m so sorry- Wooyoung!?” You gasp, recognizing the face of an old friend.

“Y/N? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Wooyoung’s face lights up, erasing all the negative feelings you harbored. Finally someone familiar.

He’s what you can describe as the typical shy church boy, always hiding behind his glasses. He has a soft spoken voice to him, which to be honest does not match his face nor his smile that naturally looks mischievous. He looks like he’s scheming when it’s the complete opposite. He’s a sweet guy.

“Just visiting. Rough times,” You chuckle awkwardly.

“I’m somewhat saddened that you never even visited me,” He frowns.

“I’m sorry Woo, it’s just so many things going on. I see you still got your typical outfit going on here,” You lightly tease, hoping to change the topic and lighten up the mood. “It’s really about time you get rid of those flannels.”

He always wears his typical flannel shirt, buttoned all the way to the top and khaki pants. He dresses like a dad. And of course he always sports his black thick-rimmed glasses. You always say he has the face of a model but he never cares, always telling you , “It matters not the clothing or richness you have. God judges all equally.”

“So how’s it been? Are you working or anything?” You ask curiously.

“I’ve actually taken a job as a history teacher in Oakheart High School,” He chuckles.

“Oh really? Any interesting history?” You ask, knowing that history class back in your high school days was a bore.

“You’d be surprised. You can call me this town's historian, well unofficially anyways,” He shrugs with a chuckle. “How about you?”

“Neurosurgeon. So where are you off to?” You ask.

“Home. You should, too. Y’know it’s very dangerous for us to be out and about with the murders.”

“Yeah, I just witnessed a murder in the church,” You shrug nonchalantly, earning a gasp from him and he quickly covers your mouth.

“Don’t say that out loud. It will cause panic to everyone. Whatever you saw, keep it to yourself. I’ll pretend like I never heard what you said,” He warns you, urgency clear in his eyes, darting about to make sure no one heard. “Now I’ll be going home. You have a nice day okay,” He smiles, taking his hand off your face and walks back.

“Bye Woo.” 

This town doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense. 

—————————————————————

“They found the murderer! Come on! We have to go!” Your father screams, waking up the whole house. He rushes you and your mom out the door as quickly as possible.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“Church,” Your father says, adding nothing more. You all got in the car and drove 10 minutes. You know cutting through the forest is faster. 

When you all arrive, the parking lot is filled, having to park on the side of the road instead. It seems the whole town is there.

“What’s going on?” You ask once more, getting more confused by the second when you see people heading into the woods.

“Just don’t ask and follow us,” Your father responds gruffly.

You said you’ll never go back to the woods but here you are amongst a whole group of people. “Woo!” You whisper, weaving your way to stand next to him. “What’s going on?”

“The murderer, they found the murderer and she was found to be a witch,” Wooyoung shortly explains, eyes focused ahead as he clutches the rosary beads in his hand. “God is gracious,” He kisses the beads.

“Oakheart used to be a coven of witches, that is until the Evangelist came and forced us to turn to their God. Others who refused were burned here,” You remember the words of the old woman. Here you are, standing before the large oak tree once more, anticipating the events that would unfold, and it doesn’t seem good.

Hush murmurs drowned the silence of the woods. It seems everyone knows what’s happening but you. You don’t know what to expect. 

“Brothers and sisters,” The familiar voice of Hongjoong quickly hushes the crowd. The deacon, Seonghwa, stood next to him. “It is thanks to our devoted loyalty and prayers to God that we have found the demon causing havoc to our town. A witch.”

“I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it!” Screams echo through the quiet forest as the nuns drag a woman to Hongjoong.

Your hand shakily covers your mouth, recognizing the old woman. There’s no way. A fragile woman like her? But the way she transformed before your eyes. Maybe she did do it. She seems to be staring at you now. You know I didn’t do it.

You don’t get it. If she’s the murderer, why is she here instead of in jail? What are the police doing? What is Hongjoong doing?

“Now we won’t be burning any witches but we know what to do with them,” Hongjoong smiles. He then turns to the nuns who dragged the woman to a platform and only did you notice that there’s a rope tied to a strong branch on the tree.

“There’s no way,” You whisper.

“It’s what happens to witches,” Wooyoung assures you. “History says so.”

Hongjoong puts the noose around the woman’s neck then steps back. “Brothers and sisters, we should not place mistrust in each other, but this is an example of what happens to the worshippers of the devil.” With a nod, Seonghwa drops the platform, causing the woman to drop with it, the noose causing her to lose circulation and ultimately killing her. Hongjoong is turned away from you but from where you are, you can make out a smirk.

“What the fuck,” You manage to get out as you back away from the crowd. Everything happened so quickly. One moment she was screaming, the next second she’s limp. You want to puke. You might puke.

“Where are you going?” Wooyoung asks.

“Out!” You scream, causing a commotion. You run away from the group of people, Wooyoung calling out your name and your parents running after you. You ran and ran and it wasn’t a very long run knowing just how close the house is. There really was no need for that car ride. What a waste of gas.

“Where are you going? You can’t just leave,” You’re dad yells.

“Well I can and I will. I am an adult!” You look out the window to see your Uber waiting for you. 

“Let me talk to her,” Your mother speaks softly to her husband, a lack of concern in her eyes.

Her husband looks at her with hesitance before leaving the room. “Fine.”

Your mother doesn’t say anything at first. In fact she helps you pack. “I really don’t want you leaving, and neither does your father. Right now you’re in grave danger. You don’t understand now but you will. They will come for you and there’s only so much we could do. Or this town.”

“What are you talking about?” You scoff. All your mother’s rambling about is nonsense.

“It doesn’t matter now. The less you know the longer we can bid our time.” She slips a hand into the pocket of her dress and takes out a small jewelry box. Inside is a necklace with a red garnet pendant. You’ve seen her wear it before. “Let me put this on you.”

You look at her for a moment before nodding. She stands behind you and puts it on you, the pendant resting nicely on your collar. 

“Never take it off. Ever,” She says seriously before leaving the room.

The uber driver honks their horn impatiently. You grab your luggage and leave the house without any words for your parents. You weren’t going to come back. Fuck Hongjoong. He’s a psycho.

—————————————————————

Jung Wooyoung drives home in the dark rainy night, singing to whatever song is on the radio. Suddenly, he sees a person on the road in front of his car which forced him to swerve so suddenly. He looks back in shock then undoes his seatbelt before getting out of the car to check on the person he saw. 

“Hello?” He calls out into the dark road, as nobody had invested in more lights. No answer and so he keeps on walking to the direction of where he saw the person.

“Help me! Please!” A man begs from behind him. He turns slowly to look at him.

“Oh my god,” He whispers to himself, looking at the dirty disheveled guy. So he finds himself driving the young man in the back of his car to his house. “Oh poor thing,” He shakes his head. “My house is just at the end of this road. We’ll get you all cleaned up. Tomorrow I’ll call a doctor to get you all checked.”

Wooyoung is quick to give the man the best hospitality he can offer. “I brewed you some tea. I would have gotten coffee if it wasn’t night already,” Wooyoung smiles at the young man who had finally gotten all cleaned up.  The man slowly approaches him. “I also found some cookies. What’s your name? Can you tell me what happened to you?” He asks. He’s far too kind, inviting a stranger into his home, offering them refreshments without knowing anything about them. “Did someone attack you?”

The man shakes his head and sits in front of him. “No. The woods did.”

Wooyoung bites his lip for a second before his lips form a smile, sitting down as well. “Wow, well you’re not from around here, aren't you?” He chuckles. “You know, everyone knows about the witch hunt in Salem, but many people don’t know that there was one, right here in Oakheart. 1692. Well maybe the lucky few who escaped. It’s no surprise the spirits of the woods are mad. There was a hanging today.” He starts talking about the eerie history of the town. “Back then, thirteen witches were hanged in the forest. However, they do say that the oak tree never existed before. Oakheart was named after a very powerful witch who died. They say her demon lover turned her into an oak and ever since then, the witch protects every other witch in this town. That’s just a myth though. Look at where all the witches are now,” He shrugs. Wooyoung has always been superstitious, growing up with stories passed by word from one generation to the other. Superstitions are the reason he became a devout Christian. He’s afraid of awakening any angry spirits.

“How do you know so much,” The man asks, “about witches?”

Wooyoung smiles, “Well, I may be the unofficial historian of Oakheart. Plus, I teach at the high school. Oakheart High School. The town is actually named Oakheart because the tree the witches were hanged was an oak-”

“Do you know Y/N?”

“Yes actually! She’s my friend,” He says, taken aback. “Do you know her?”

“Not yet,” The man answered in a distorted voice which made Wooyoung stand up in fear. “But hell will be much livelier with her.” The man raises his arm up, sending a silver sheer to stab Wooyoung’s neck. He looks at the stranger in shock before collapsing to the floor.

The man approaches his body, touching his fresh warm blood while chanting in latin. Once the chanting finished, Wooyoung opened his eyes with a gasp.

[highkeykithes]

omg i was rereading faded ink when you unpublished everything and was soo confused when the next chapter wouldn’t load😭 please take your time with the editing process!!! I’m excited to see the new details you want to include :> take care!

Yeah I am very very VERY sorry 😭 Ive been wanting to edit all the books since it ended but never had time. Now that I do, I'm looking back at old things I forgot to include that could be important. Plus, lots of grammar errors haha. I also may or not be getting rid of all the love interest, because before I even officially started writing the first book, the "love" interest was someone totally different I completely forgot about. It doesn't even seem important to the story anyways. Lmk what you guys think.

Ahh! See, lots of major editing 😭 Again, i'm super sorry for interrupting your reading time! You take care as well! <33

[frauleiiin]

what do you think would be a recommended level to start KOTFE if the enemies and boss fights will have a higher difficulty?

I've always been tempted to make a post about the balance between leveling up and good story experience sooo here I am!

An introduction to maintaining a good level while doing the strict minimum to enjoy the story more~ (preferred player edition)

First time I played the game, I did like everything, every planetary story arc, every daily, EVERYTHING (almost). I also one shotted the entire storyline like you, like I finished the class story on one character then did all the expansions. In total, I have nearly 400h on that character, which is quite a lot for only solo content. Then I played the Sith Inquisitor storyline, did the same thing cuz I wanted to see what imp side had to offer but I didn't play the expansions as they're roughly the same throughout the classes. After that I only ever played the mission stories to try to complete legendary status the quickest possible, I managed in one year only.

What's the lowest level you can complete the class story with?

On these characters, I was able to complete their class stories at level 42ish (which is def difficult on Correllia but manageable, depending on the classes, some might need 43). But I never intended to play the expansions with them, so playing the minimum of the minimum is 100% playable for the class stories (except on Quesh where you need to be lvl 33 but it's usually not far stretched). Now, I wanted to replay the JK storyline and the expansions with my beloved Maverik'a to take screenshots and I wanted to do the minimum of the minimum this time (since last time I did like everything) so here's how I did it.

How to gain and maintain XP more easily?

First I recommend you buying character perks, if you're starting out a class story buying the entire class story & exploration tier can help you a lot. Now that you're in the expansions, the Flashpoints one might be a good one to have. Basically you gain more XP with these perks and level up more easily. Level wise, I recommend you being always 5-10 levels higher than you should, every planet has an ideal lvl you should at least be 5 lvl higher. How to do it without it becoming a task? Do, a few side quests here and there, with ALWAYS an XP boost on, and once you've hit a reasonable level continue the story and so on.

What are the lvl recommendations to play the expansions?

SO to finally answer your question, in my opinion, you must be around 60 when you hit Correllia. Like I said previously you can do just fine with as low as 42, but for expansions you're gonna end up having to catch up a lot and it's just more annoying. And I highly recommend being lvl 80, with your armor all upgraded, by chapter 16 of KOTFE since there's a big battle. The game recommends lvl 75 but if you're not geared up well it can be very difficult, specifically the last chapter of KOTET. These two chapters have big boss fights, a friend asked me to help her on the last chapter of KOTET cuz the boss would keep killing her and she was around lvl 75. At 80, I never had a problem defeating that boss, I one shotted it lol.

Honestly from the comment you left me, I assume you're subscribed cuz you level up quick so it shouldn't be as much of a grind as it is for preferred (the status I had when I replayed the entire thing lol). But 60 at Correllia and 80 at the last chapter of KOTFE is still what I'd recommend even subscribed.

RECAP

Lowest level and time to complete a class story without expansions = lvl 42 at Correllia, playtime from 24-34ish hours.

(If you're a class story complitionist, it takes around 60h! More than the double of a minimalistic run!)

Lowest level and time to complete a class story WITH expansions = lvl 60 at Correllia, playtime 135h for the entire swtor storyline (instead of almost 400 when you're a complitionist!)

Thanks to have come to my Ted talk, I hope this helps people 😭😭

[ihaveconfessd]

A Little Bit of Everything Part 7

Changbin x Bang Chan x Female! Reader

Summary: college!au, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff,

Warnings: Language, inappropriate jokes, mentions of hazing, mentions of throwing up, character makes reference to past abuse (non graphic, implied)

Disclaimer: the following is a work of FICTION and in no way represent the actual people depicted. This is for entertainment purposes only.

In later Chapters this fic will deal heavily with sexual trauma, abusive partners (past), panic attacks and other sensitive topics, please take care of your mental health and read at your own discretion.

I am half asleep and posting this at 1am so I didn't get to edit the screenshots as well as I usually do I'm sorry 😭. I also realized I cropped one of the photos wrong and I am toothed to fix it rn so I will post the actual photo Y/n 'took' until I have the energy to edit it later.

-🍓