#i feel like im doing so much but im just having fun

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

baby daddy (j.t.)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Some blood and stuff

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: I'll be so honest, this was way better in my head lol my execution needs work because aint no way this is 7k words and im still not satisfied perhaps this would be best as a series? but tbh i dont think i can write much more than this

It's based on this post from @batbusiness-schooldropout

"Alright, who the hell snitched?"

Jason stormed into the Batcave, helmet tucked under his arm, pissed.

Tim barely looked up from the Batcomputer, "What are you talking about?"

Jason gestured wildly, "I just had a fun little run-in with a couple of GCPD officers who very politely informed me that I have an outstanding legal matter that needs my attention. Which is news to me because I don’t exactly file taxes or have jury duty, so what the hell are they trying to pull?"

Tim blinked, "You have a warrant?"

"That’s what I’m asking you!" Jason snapped.

Tim, now curious, spun back to the screen, "Alright, let’s check."

He typed in Red Hood and cross-checked it with Gotham’s legal system. A few minor infractions came up—nothing serious—but then…

There it was.

Tim frowned, "Huh."

Jason narrowed his eyes, "What?"

"It’s… not a warrant," Tim said slowly, "It’s a summons."

Jason crossed his arms, "For what?"

Tim clicked on the file. A scanned document popped up, the words 'LEGAL NOTICE' at the top.

"Looks like someone filed you as a legal guardian," Tim muttered, "Gotham’s courts have been trying to notify you for a while now. They probably flagged it to GCPD just to get it on your radar."

Jason scoffed, "Guardian? Of who?"

Tim clicked again, "A kid named Aria (L/N)."

Jason frowned, "That name means nothing to me."

Tim went still.

Jason’s stomach sank, "...What?"

Tim very slowly turned the screen toward him.

Jason stared.

Child’s Name: Aria (L/N) Mother: (Y/N) (L/N) Father: Red Hood

His brain just stopped working.

Dick, passing by with his coffee, glanced at the screen, "Oh, damn. Jay, you finally settling down?"

Jason whipped around to glare at him, "I don’t know this woman! I don’t have a kid!"

"Legally, you do." Tim pointed out.

Jason turned back to the screen, rubbing his temples, "Why is my life like this?"

Tim scrolled further, "Looks like the mother put your name down instead of the real father’s. And since Gotham courts don’t do DNA tests without permission from both parents… that guy got screwed out of custody."

Jason clenched his jaw, "And now they’re trying to find me because I’m on record as the dad."

Tim squinted at the file, then choked.

Jason looked at him warily, "...What?"

Tim covered his mouth, trying so hard not to laugh, "There's a comments section."

Jason leaned over his shoulder, eyes scanning the document. Then he saw it.

Additional Comments: "He kept the helmet on the whole time."

The Cave went dead silent.

Jason stared. Tim bit his lip. Dick was turning red trying not to lose it.

Then—

Tim wheezed.

Dick howled.

Jason smacked his forehead against the Batcomputer, "I hate everything."

He then exhaled sharply, cutting off his mental breakdown before muttering, "Okay. Fine. I’ll go find the mother and figure this out."

Dick snickered, "Tell Aria Daddy’s coming home."

Jason threw a batarang at him.

***

"Hi, honey, I'm home."

The distorted, robotic voice from his helmet made you freeze in place. Your pulse thundered in your ears, dread settling like a stone in your stomach. You knew exactly why the Red Hood was in your apartment.

You turned slowly, keeping your hands in sight as if that would make a difference, "Please, don't. My daughter is in the next room. She only has me."

"Don't you mean our daughter?" He bit out, sarcasm cutting through the voice modulator.

Despite whatever anger he held toward you, he hesitated, feeling pity. You must have looked terrified.

"I'm not here to hurt you," He said after a beat, "I just want an explanation."

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay calm, "Her father is an asshole. I couldn’t let him have any rights over her, so I wrote your name down on all her documents. Gotham has no way of verifying, so they just had to take my word for it."

You met his gaze, your voice steady despite the situation, "I’m sorry if I made things complicated for you, but this was the only way I knew to keep his hands off her."

Jason exhaled sharply, shifting his weight, "How long did you think this would go unnoticed?"

You hesitated before answering, "Well… 'our' daughter turned five last month, so I figured you weren't going to find out anytime soon. Guess I was wrong."

You knew of Red Hood. You knew what he stood for. No matter what, he would never hurt a child. Ever. And if the rumors about him were true, then he would realize that you had only been acting in Aria’s best interest.

He studied you, the lenses of his helmet unreadable, but you could feel the weight of his scrutiny. This was an invasion of privacy—probably illegal, even—but instead of anger, he seemed... intrigued. You weren’t what he expected. You were clever, maybe even reckless, but clearly devoted to your daughter.

And—if he was being honest—pretty. Definitely pretty.

"Why me?" He finally asked, "Why not any of the other Bats?"

You shrugged, "Of all of them, you seemed like the least likely for civil court to track down." That much was true—any time someone tried to drag Red Hood into Gotham’s legal system, he either ignored it or laughed in their face before firing a warning shot.

"You're also the scariest, aside from Batman. And I didn’t want him getting any ideas about recruiting Aria for his next child vigilante project once Robin retires again." You smirked, "Lastly, having a baby daddy without a no-kill rule seemed like a great way to keep that deadbeat asshole far, far away from us."

Jason flat-out laughed at that. The sound, even through the voice modulator, carried warmth.

"You make an excellent argument," He admitted.

You relaxed slightly, "I am sorry. If I knew it was going to bother you, I never would have done it."

He shrugged, completely unbothered, "Doesn’t bother me. You were doing right by your kid. I can respect that."

Relief washed over you, and you smiled. You didn’t push the conversation further—if he wanted to be taken off her documents, he’d ask.

Instead, he surprised you.

"Can I meet her?"

Your breath caught, "Who? Aria?"

"I mean, legally, she’s my kid, right? That means I have visitation rights."

Apprehension prickled at the edges of your mind. Had you just swapped out one danger for another? You had gone to great lengths to keep Aria safe from one man—had you unknowingly invited another into her life?

Jason seemed to sense your hesitation. "You can say no," He said, almost gently, "But I just found out I have a daughter today. I’d like to meet the girl who made you pull a stunt this reckless and brave."

You could say no. You probably should say no.

And yet, as you looked at the masked man standing in your too-small living room, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

"...Okay," You said at last, "But you might want to take off the mask. She scares easy."

Jason chuckled, low and amused. You half-expected him to refuse, to make some offhanded comment before declining the invitation and leaving, but instead, you heard the soft click as he unlocked his helmet and pulled it off.

Dark, slightly messy hair with a single white streak. Stormy blue eyes. Sharp cheekbones and full lips.

"Wow," You breathed before you could stop yourself.

He raised a brow.

You cleared your throat, cheeks warming, "I can see where our daughter gets her good looks from."

Jason snorted, shaking his head.

"Aria, honey!" You called, turning toward her room, "Come out for a second, please!"

The door creaked open, followed by the soft pitter-patter of tiny feet. Aria emerged in a pink tutu, a plastic wand in her hands, and a sparkly tiara perched on her head.

She blinked up at Jason with wide, curious eyes.

"This is Mommy’s friend, Red Hood," You told her, "He wanted to say hi."

Aria beamed, "Hi, Mr. Hood!" She grabbed the edges of her tutu and curtsied, just like the princesses in her favorite cartoons.

You glanced at Jason. His expression had softened, the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For a man who had probably seen the worst the world had to offer, he looked completely in awe.

Jason, the Red Hood—the most terrifying name in Gotham’s underworld—cleared his throat, gripping his helmet a little tighter.

"Uh. Hi there." He said, voice definitely shaking.

You bit your lip, looking down to hide your smile.

This huge crime lord, who had probably seen more murders tonight than you had in your entire life, was nervous talking to a five-year-old.

Aria giggled, "You talk funny."

Jason blinked, "I do?"

She nodded, "Your voice is all rumbly! Like Batman!"

Jason made a very undignified sound, "I am nothing like Batman, princess."

Aria gasped dramatically, "You know Batman?!"

***

Jason didn’t know exactly how he ended up in this position.

After that first meeting with Aria, he’d been more than ready to let you both get back to your lives. You had only put his name down as Aria's father to scare off her real father; he had no place here.

And yet.

When he found himself alone in his apartment, staring at the ceiling, or in the rare moments of silence while working on cars, his mind drifted. He’d think about Aria—her wide, innocent eyes staring up at him, the way she had curtsied like a damn princess, completely unafraid of the man Gotham whispered about in fear.

An unfamiliar squeeze tugged at his heart.

He had a daughter.

And the more he thought about her, the more he wanted to protect her—to keep that innocence untouched, to make sure she was safe and happy. He wanted to be a father.

Then, inevitably, his thoughts turned to you.

You hadn't spoken for long, but somehow, you’d managed to stick in his mind. Despite it being the end of the day, exhaustion tugging at you, there had been a light in your eyes—something warm, something alive. He found himself drawn to it.

The confidence in your posture, the way you had no trouble meeting his eyes, the sheer sass you had thrown his way despite knowing exactly who he was. And above all, the love and protectiveness you had for Aria.

You were nothing like anyone he had ever met before.

A couple of days later, he found himself knocking at your door again.

He had told himself it was just to check on Aria after a Joker attack. That was reasonable, right? He had to make sure she was safe. That’s all it was.

You had offered him dinner. He declined.

Then, a couple of days after that, he found himself there again—this time after a Poison Ivy incident.

You offered him dinner again.

This time, he obliged.

That night, he sat at your dinner table with you and Aria, listening as she excitedly told him about school. He learned about your job, about the little details of your life, and—much to his amusement—was introduced to what Aria called the greatest meal in the entire world.

Hello Kitty-shaped pasta.

He raised a brow at you.

You shrugged, "It’s expensive, but it makes her happy."

Jason huffed a small laugh, "What’s the special occasion?"

Aria beamed, practically vibrating in her seat.

"I got made line leader today!" She announced proudly.

You glanced at her with a mix of amusement and pride, eyes warm, "It’s a big deal."

Jason turned to Aria, his chest tightening at the way she puffed herself up with pride. Without thinking, he reached out and ruffled her hair like it was second nature.

"Good job, princess," He murmured.

Her entire face lit up.

And just like that, Jason Todd was done for.

It had been two months since Jason first met the both of you, and now, sitting at the dinner table, he was experiencing his first real parental crisis.

It was obvious that Aria was in a bad mood.

She barely touched her food, half-heartedly pushing it around her plate. Even when you suggested ordering takeout—usually a foolproof way to lift her spirits—she just shook her head. You and Jason exchanged a concerned glance over her head.

Something was clearly wrong.

You sighed, resigning yourself to the hope that she’d tell you before bed or at least over breakfast tomorrow.

"I'm just gonna go take a shower, do you mind?" You asked, gesturing toward Aria.

Jason didn’t hesitate before nodding.

You smiled gratefully, pressing a kiss to Aria’s crown before leaning over and doing the same to Jason.

A month ago, that would’ve made him jump out of his skin. Now, after two months of shared dinners—some planned, others happening more naturally—he only sat there, heart racing in his chest, pretending that wasn’t the highlight of his day.

When he heard the shower turn on, he turned to Aria with a mischievous grin.

"Okay, Mom’s in the shower. What do you say to ice cream for dinner?"

Jason liked to pretend you had no idea whenever he and Aria snuck ice cream together. But ever since he convinced you to let him make homemade ice cream with protein shakes and sneaky healthy ingredients, you had stopped putting up much of a fight. Besides, he wasn’t exactly subtle. If he didn’t outright tell you, the dirty dishes in the sink were more than enough of a giveaway.

More than anything, though, he just wanted Aria to eat something.

But tonight, instead of the excited little gasp she usually gave, Aria just frowned.

"Mommy doesn’t like that."

"Princess," He said more gently, shifting in his seat, "is something wrong? You love ice cream. And Mom made one of your favorites tonight, but you’re not eating, and…" His voice softened, "That makes me sad."

Aria hesitated for a few seconds before pushing her plate away and sliding off her chair. Jason tensed, heart thudding slightly faster. Shit, did I upset her? Is she about to cry?

But she didn’t.

Instead, she ran off, returning moments later with her pink Barbie backpack. She unzipped it and rifled through its contents before pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper and handing it to him.

Jason smoothed the paper out.

And felt his stomach drop.

Daddy-Daughter Day!

"My teacher told us to give it to our parents," Aria said quietly, her lip trembling, "So our daddies can come visit one day."

She fidgeted, looking down at her hands.

"But… I don’t have a daddy."

And just like that, Jason Todd’s heart broke in two.

***

When you came out of the shower, towel-drying your hair and now dressed in your pajamas, you immediately looked around for Aria.

"She didn’t really want to eat, so I just put her to bed," Jason informed you.

You sighed, sinking into a chair at the dining table, "Do you think I should call her teacher tomorrow and ask if something happened? Maybe someone was being mean to her at school?"

Wordlessly, Jason slid a folded piece of paper across the table toward you. You furrowed your brows and picked it up, unfolding it to read.

Your face immediately darkened.

"This can’t be right!" You hissed, voice sharp with anger. "I thought schools had outfashioned practices like this! What happened to inclusivity and all that crap? What about kids with two moms? Or no parents at all? I’m calling up the school. I’m gonna be a full-blown Karen. I’m gonna—"

"(Y/N)—"

"No, Jason, this isn’t okay!"

Despite your fury, you kept your voice down for Aria’s sake. Jason wasn’t sure if you were about to explode or just strain your vocal cords with your whispered screams. But then, just as suddenly as your anger had flared, you seemed to fizzle out.

You slumped back into your chair, rubbing your face with trembling hands.

"I’ve done everything I can to make sure Aria never feels the absence of a father," You murmured.

"I’ve tried. I’ve—" Your voice cracked.

You let out a shaky breath and shielded your face with your hands, "My poor baby. I can’t believe she held onto this all day without telling me."

Jason think twice before he pulled you into his arms, letting you rest your head against his neck as you composed yourself.

After a moment, he spoke, "Look, I know it might not be the same, but… I was thinking. What if I attended the event with Aria?"

You stiffened, then slowly pulled back, meeting his eyes. Your expression wasn’t hopeful—it was guarded.

Jason’s stomach soured.

"Jay, I know we’ve been having a good time lately, but you can’t do that to Aria," You said, shaking your head, "If you go to this event as her dad, she’s going to see you as that. And you can’t—you can’t do that to her."

Jason swallowed hard. His voice was quieter when he asked, "What if I wanted to? To be seen as her dad? Would that really be so terrible?"

You didn’t answer.

You just stood up from the table and walked away.

Jason almost would have laughed at how much you resembled Aria in that moment if he didn't feel his stomach sinking to his feet.

But just like Aria, you also came back.

Clutched in your hands was a camera. You placed it in front of him, watching as he stared at you with unsure eyes.

"I record all of Aria’s school events," You said softly. "Don’t miss a second of it."

Jason blinked. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.

Before you could react, he grabbed you and twirled you around the kitchen.

You let out a surprised squeal before bursting into giggles, clinging onto his shoulders. But then, realization hit.

You were definitely not wearing a bra.

Your giggles faded, and Jason froze as well, both of you suddenly very aware of how close you were. You stared at each other, identical blushes creeping up your cheeks.

You cleared your throat.

"You can—um—you can put me down now."

***

It was almost comical how small the classroom was.

Jason had to duck his head to step inside, barely squeezing through the low doorframe. The room was packed—about fifteen other dads crammed into tiny plastic chairs that looked like they could barely support one ass cheek. Jason didn’t even bother trying. Instead, he just lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs as he settled in.

The dads around him nodded politely as they all waited for the teachers to finish setting up and taking attendance.

"I don’t think I’ve seen you around before," A man beside him said, shifting his son in his lap, "I’m David."

"Jason," He replied, shaking his hand with a firm but polite grip.

"This is Harry," David continued, gesturing to the little boy who peeked up at Jason shyly before quickly burying his face in his dad’s shirt. Jason chuckled.

"So, which one’s yours?"

Jason glanced across the room, "Over there, in the book corner."

David followed his gaze. In the far corner, a little girl in denim dungarees rifled through a stack of picture books with a very serious expression, clearly determined to find a specific one. Jason had picked out her outfit today—he’d even let her wear the tiara she refused to take off, despite your insistence that it was an inside toy.

No doubt, she was making a mess that her poor teacher would have to clean up later.

David frowned, "Who?"

"The one with the tiara," Jason said.

David's confusion deepened, "Aria?"

Jason’s brows furrowed, "Yeah."

"Aria (L/N)?"

"Yes."

David blinked, "I—I didn’t know you were—I thought (Y/N) was single."

Jason’s expression darkened. A phantom of a scowl flickered across his face before he forced himself to relax. He wasn’t about to scare off the other parents at an event that was supposed to be important for Aria.

"She isn’t," He said simply.

David paled, "Oh. Uh—sorry." He quickly bowed his head, clearly embarrassed.

Jason smirked, barely hiding his haughty attitude. So what if he told a little white lie? It wouldn’t do any harm for Dave—or Dan, or whatever his name was—to keep his sights off you.

Really, you deserved better than some average, boring guy who probably filed his taxes early and grilled chicken without seasoning. Someone like that wouldn’t know how to handle you. He wouldn’t know how to make you laugh when you were stressed, wouldn’t know how to handle your sass, wouldn’t know how to love you the way you deserved.

No, you needed someone confident. Someone strong. Someone who could protect you and Aria. Someone with a soft side, sure, but also someone who wasn’t afraid to fight for you. Someone who would go to hell and back if it meant keeping you both safe.

Someone like…

Oh.

Jason's smirk faltered for half a second before he recovered, clearing his throat and forcing himself to focus on Aria, who was still knee-deep in her book hunt.

Well. That was something to unpack later.

***

"Now, all together, everyone! On the count of three—one, two, three!" the teacher announced cheerfully.

A chorus of tiny voices rang out.

"I love you, Dad!"

It was loud, chaotic, a jumble of high-pitched shouts that somehow blended into something warm and sweet. Parents chuckled, kids giggled, the room filled with laughter and joy.

But Jason’s heart sank.

While the other kids beamed up at their fathers, Aria clutched the handmade card in tight fists, her knuckles white. She kept her head down, lip wobbling, shoulders trembling as she struggled to say the words.

Jason knelt in front of her, his heart twisting. God, she’s so small. Both of her tiny hands barely covered his palm as he gently took them in his own.

"You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to, Aria," He told her softly, "I’m not going to force you to do anything. Just know that I love you very much, princess. That’s enough for me."

She finally looked up at him, somehow seeming even smaller despite the fact that he was kneeling. Her big, glassy doe eyes searched his face.

"You really love me?" She asked in the quietest whisper.

"More than anything, baby."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, before he could think about the weight they carried. About what it might mean for a little girl who had spent her whole life without a father.

For a moment, she just stared at him. Jason barely had time to register the emotion in her eyes before she launched herself at him, tiny arms wrapping tightly around his neck. She burrowed against him, her small frame pressing against his chest as she whispered into his ear—

"I love you, Daddy."

Jason felt his breath catch in his throat.

Oh. Oh.

He squeezed her tighter, pressing his face into her soft curls, "I love you too, princess," He murmured, voice thick with something he wasn’t ready to name.

And for the first time in a long time, Jason Todd felt like he belonged.

***

Aria had been absolutely beaming after Daddy-Daughter Day, her excitement carrying her through the evening—especially since Jason had taken her to the park afterward. She had barely managed to get through telling you about her day, slurring her words sleepily as you tucked her into bed.

You pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, smoothing down her hair before stepping away, only to find Jason waiting for you in the doorway.

You smiled at him, reaching for his hand and leading him back to the living room. Without a word, you poured him a glass of wine, knowing that, even though he wouldn’t admit it, the day at her kindergarten had probably exhausted him. The proof was in the way he let out an almost comically heavy sigh the second he sank onto the couch.

You settled beside him, resting your head on his shoulder like it belonged there, both of you staring at the very much off television in comfortable silence.

“She has a lot of energy, doesn’t she?” You murmured, amused.

Jason huffed out a laugh, “Yeah. I like to think I’m somewhat athletic, but Aria put me to shame today.”

You smiled, tilting your head slightly to look up at him, “Thanks for going today. It meant a lot to her. And to me, too.”

There was a beat of silence before Jason reached for your hand, his fingers threading through yours like second nature. His grip was warm, grounding.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

***

Living in Gotham, you considered yourself one of the lucky ones.

Sure, you weren’t immune to the constant calamities that plagued the city, but you had managed to avoid being caught in the worst of them. Your bank had never been robbed while you were there. You had never been held hostage. You were one of the few people left who had never fallen victim to Joker venom.

Sure, your house had been broken into before—before Aria—but you were never home when it happened.

Really, you should’ve known your luck was going to run out eventually.

You had gotten too comfortable with Jason’s late-night visits, so when the knock came at your door, you didn’t even hesitate. You didn’t check the peephole. You didn’t ask who it was. You just…opened it.

Rookie mistake.

The man standing on the other side was a stranger. Tall. Built. And he made no effort to conceal the gun in his pocket.

Your blood went cold.

A smirk curled at his lips, sending goosebumps crawling up your skin. Your throat tightened.

“Hello, sweetheart. Did your baby daddy stop by?”

Your voice barely came out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The man tsked, stepping forward, making you instinctively press yourself against the doorframe.

“Now, now. Don’t lie,” He murmured, “It won’t end well for you—or the little runt back there.”

Your heart stopped.

Aria.

Terror clawed at your chest, your breath shuddering. Tears burned your eyes.

“Please,” You whispered, “Don’t hurt her. She’s just a child.”

“The child of the infamous Red Hood.” He tilted his head mockingly, “You can’t possibly think that means nothing.”

You shook your head violently, “She doesn’t know anything. I don’t know anything. Please.”

Your hands were iron on the doorknob, but it meant nothing.

With a single sharp shove, he flung the door open.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

***

Jason had been having a good night.

He had just finished his patrol and was on his way to your place, eager to see you and Aria. Maybe he’d bring her some hot chocolate, tuck her into bed, and spend the rest of the night with you, pretending—for just a little while—that the world outside didn’t exist.

Then he saw the door.

Wide open.

His blood ran cold.

Jason didn’t think—he moved. Gun drawn, he stormed inside, heart hammering against his ribs like a caged animal. The second he stepped into the apartment, his stomach dropped.

The place was trashed.

Aria’s toys were scattered across the floor, your coffee table overturned, and the framed pictures on the wall had been knocked down, the glass shattered.

There had been a struggle.

Jason’s throat tightened as his eyes landed on a streak of blood smeared across the hardwood floor.

His world tilted.

No. No, no, no, NO.

His hands shook, but his grip on his gun only tightened. His pulse was pounding in his ears, deafening, drowning out everything but the rage that ignited in his chest like an explosion.

His vision blurred with fury.

Someone took you. Someone took Aria.

His family.

Jason turned sharply and stormed out of the apartment, his movements lethal and precise. He going to hunt down the bastards who thought they could take his girls and live to tell the tale.

They were going to pay.

***

"I need you to find two missing people."

That was the first thing out of Jason’s mouth the second he entered the cave. His urgency didn’t seem apparent enough to anyone, judging by the way Dick and Bruce didn’t even look up from sparring.

Tim, who didn’t bother glancing away from the Batcomputer, simply asked, “Who?”

“(Y/N) and Aria (L/N).”

At this, Dick perked up, “Your fake baby mama and kid? She might not be missing, Little Wing. Maybe she’s just at Superman’s baby shower.”

Dick wasn’t expecting boisterous laughter, but at least a huff of breath or a chuckle would have been appreciated. Instead, he suddenly found himself grabbed by the collar, yanked forward until he was forced to look Jason in the eye.

Jason’s expression was thunderous—fury on the surface, but something even more unsettling lurked underneath.

“The mother of my child and my daughter are missing, and you want to make jokes?”

Dick raised a brow, forcing himself to stay calm, “I thought you didn’t know them?”

Jason’s grip tightened for a second before he let go, stepping back. His voice was low, unwavering.

“I do now.”

***

The world felt like it was spinning in slow motion. Every breath was a struggle, your head pounding from the blow you’d taken earlier, your body screaming in pain with every movement. You tried to focus, tried to tell yourself it was going to be okay—that Aria was okay—but you weren’t okay.

You had been firm in your resolve, refusing to reveal anything about the Red Hood, willing to die on the hill that you knew nothing. But you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up. So far, they had only hurt you—because when they had turned to Aria, demanding answers, she had wailed and sobbed until she peed herself. The memory made tears well in your eyes.

Your poor girl might walk out of this untouched, but she wouldn’t leave unscathed. This would haunt her for years to come.

And you knew—the second they turned back toward her, the second they so much as raised a hand in her direction—you would break. It didn’t matter how much you loved Jason. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever put anyone above Aria’s safety.

Her terrified little eyes stayed locked on you, watching as a trail of blood ran down the side of your face.

Then the door slammed open.

The sound echoed in the empty space, sharp and deafening. Your body tensed, your breath catching in your throat. The man holding you captive turned toward the entrance, a sneer curling his lips.

“Well, well,” He drawled, his voice sickeningly amused. “Looks like Daddy's finally joined us for the party.”

Your heart leaped in your chest. But you couldn’t show it. Not when Aria was still in danger.

With the momentary distraction, she crawled into your lap, and despite the blinding pain searing through your body, you pulled her in. She trembled against you, clutching onto you as if her life depended on it—and in a way, it did. You shielded her, wrapping your arms around her tiny frame, covering her eyes with your bloody hand.

You whispered sweet nothings into her ear, pressing weak kisses to her temple, hoping—praying—that it would be enough to comfort her.

Then came the first gunshot.

You didn’t dare look. You knew what was happening. You could hear it in the crack of bone, the dull thuds of bodies hitting the floor, the sharp gasps of dying men. Jason was swift. Merciless. Tearing through the people who had dared to lay a hand on you and his daughter.

He was here.

He was going to save you.

Another body collapsed nearby, and your breath hitched. You felt yourself slipping, your limbs numb, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

Then, his voice cut through the haze—low and desperate, but still gentle.

“Sweetheart?”

You wanted to look up at him, to reach for him, but your body was betraying you. Your vision blurred, the pain making it impossible to move.

His hand cupped your face, his warmth seeping into your skin, grounding you. You tried to focus on that, tried to hold on.

“Talk to me, baby,” He murmured, his voice tight with worry.

But you couldn’t. You could barely breathe. The only thing keeping you tethered to consciousness was the familiar scent of leather and gunpowder—the scent of Jason, of safety, of home.

You felt him shift, carefully lifting you into his arms, cradling you like you were the most precious thing in the world. You instinctively leaned into him, letting his presence surround you.

Aria clung to him just as tightly, her tiny voice muffled against his chest.

“Daddy!”

Despite everything, despite the agony consuming your body, your heart swelled at hearing her call him that. When had she started calling him Dad?

Then Jason’s fingers brushed against your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. His voice was softer now, almost breaking.

“Stay with me, sweetheart.”

You forced your eyes open, locking onto his—those intense, unwavering blue eyes that had pinned you to your place the first time you had met in your apartment.

That day you had been apprehensive at best when he had asked to meet Aria, second guessing every choice you made but in the end choosing to follow your gut when it said it had a good feeling about him.

Now, you were sure of it.

“Jason,” You rasped, barely above a whisper. His head snapped down toward you instantly, his grip tightening as if he were afraid you might slip through his fingers.

“I need you to promise me something,” You murmured, your breath shallow, your chest tight.

His brows furrowed. “Anything,” He said, but the hesitance in his voice told you he already knew where this was going.

“I need you to promise…” You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to keep going, “If something happens to me… you’ll take care of Aria. Promise me, Jay.”

He froze.

For the first time since he’d stormed in, tearing through your captors like an avenging angel, he looked terrified.

His lips parted, but no words came out. You could see the battle raging inside him—the part of him that refused to believe he could lose you and the part that was too afraid not to make that promise.

“Don’t you dare say that,” He finally whispered, voice trembling, “I’m not losing you. I won’t—”

“Promise me,” You urged. You barely had the strength to grip his jacket, but you pulled weakly at the fabric anyway, needing him to understand.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears, his breath coming out in uneven bursts. But he wasn’t crying. Not yet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he swallowed hard and nodded.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” He swore, his voice breaking. “I won’t let her grow up without you. I promise.”

The relief that washed over you was instant. Even as your vision darkened at the edges, even as your body started to give out, you felt… safe. At peace.

With your last burst of strength, you reached for Aria’s tiny hand, wrapping it in your weak grasp. You gave her a faint squeeze, managing the smallest of smiles.

“I love you,” You whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, “Both of you.”

Jason's breath hitched. His grip around you tightened, as if he could physically keep you here, tethered to him, to Aria, to the life he couldn't bear to lose.

“No, no, sweetheart—stay with me," He pleaded, his voice cracking, raw with panic. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath shaky, "You don’t get to say that like it’s the last time. You don’t—Please (Y/N)—" His voice broke completely, and for the first time in a long time, Jason Todd was afraid.

Because he knew what loss felt like. Knew it too well.

And he couldn't—wouldn't—survive losing you too.

Aria let out a whimper, squeezing your fingers with her tiny hand. "Mommy?" Her voice was so small, so scared, and it shattered something inside him.

He shifted you in his arms, holding you closer, keeping you upright even though your body was limp.

“I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered, but the words felt hollow, like a plea rather than a promise.

Aria began to sob loudly, little hands grabbing at your sleeve, trying to shake you awake, “Mommy, wake up! Please!”

Her wails were raw, desperate, but Jason had to hold her back, had to keep her from accidentally hurting you any further. His grip on her was gentle but firm, even as his own body trembled with barely restrained terror.

He buried his face in her hair, biting back the sob threatening to claw its way out of his throat. He held you tighter, as if he could physically keep your soul tethered to him, as if just holding you close would stop the light from fading from your eyes.

He had never felt this helpless.

Jason Todd, the Red Hood, the man who had clawed his way back from the grave, who had survived horrors most people couldn’t even imagine—he was useless when it mattered most.

He was holding the broken pieces of this family.

A family that had been good, that had been safe before he came into the picture. A family that had welcomed him with open arms, treated him as though he had never been missing in the first place.

And what had he done in return?

He had ruined it.

He had brought his war, his bloodstained hands, his cursed existence into your lives, and now you were paying the price for it.

If he had never been selfish enough to stay, to want this, to think—even for a second—that he could have something good, that he could deserve you, this never would have happened.

This was his fault.

It was always his fault.

His mother’s betrayal. His death. His resurrection. The people he killed. The people he couldn’t save.

And now you.

Jason clenched his jaw, his breath coming out in ragged, uneven gasps. His heart slammed against his ribs as guilt and fury warred inside him. His hands, hands that had broken men, hands that had torn Gotham’s underworld apart, could do nothing but hold onto the only two people in the world who had ever made him feel like he was worth something.

But what was he worth now?

What good was he if he couldn’t even protect the people he loved?

Jason let out a shaking breath, pressing a kiss to Aria’s head, squeezing his eyes shut as he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

He never should have stayed.

***

Jason kept his head down as he exited your hospital room, feeling his heart break under the weight of his own resolve—to stay away from both of you.

He spotted his father waiting at the reception, handling the paperwork and payment. As much as Jason felt like the lowest he had ever been and didn’t want anyone to see him like this, he was a little relieved. At least Bruce was here. At least he could leave knowing you were taken care of. He could go home, lock himself in his apartment, and spend the next few weeks trying to forget you. Trying to convince himself that he had been an idiot for ever thinking he had a place in your family.

Because thanks to him, your family had almost been destroyed.

With his head down, he walked up to Bruce, hands stuffed in his pockets. His father gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, but Jason didn’t want to talk. If he opened his mouth now, if he let himself breathe wrong, he knew the lump in his throat would break, and the tears would come pouring out.

"Daddy!"

The sound of Aria’s voice snapped his head up just in time for her to crash into him, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck in a desperate grip. Before he could even think, he was holding her, hugging her tight, feeling her little body shake.

"Daddy, don’t leave! Mommy and I need you! Please don’t go!"

Jason looked at her tear-streaked face and felt something deep inside himself crack. He beat himself up for even considering walking away. How could he? How could he leave while you were still lying in a hospital bed? How could he abandon Aria when she needed him most?

His baby girl.

She needed him. And the truth was—he needed her just as much. He needed both of you.

Right then and there, he made a promise to himself. He would protect you both more than anything. He would love you both more than anything. And he would stop at nothing to make sure you were happy and safe.

Pressing his nose against Aria’s wet cheek, he kissed away her tears, "I’m not going anywhere, princess. Daddy’s not going anywhere."

He stole a glance at Bruce, who gave him a small smile and a nod. With a steadier heart, he carried Aria back to your hospital room.

The second she saw you, Aria gasped, "Mommy!"

You gave Jason a tired smile from your place on the bed, the cut on your lip making it painful to do so, but you still reached out for his hand.

"I thought you would’ve left, wallowing in your guilt. Your masochistic streak and all that," You teased softly.

Jason let out a shaky breath, giving you a glassy-eyed smile before pressing another kiss to Aria’s temple.

"Our girl knows how to keep me grounded."

You grinned at that, exhaustion clear in your features but warmth shining in your eyes.

"She’s her father’s daughter, alright."

***

State of New Jersey Department of Family and Child Services Official Adoption Certificate

This document certifies that on 17/03/2025, Jason Peter Todd has legally adopted Aria (L/N), hereafter known as Aria Todd, and is recognized as her father with all parental rights and responsibilities.

Adoptive Parent: Jason Peter Todd Child’s Name (Amended): Aria Todd Birth Mother: (Y/N) Todd Previous Father Listed: Red Hood (Alias) — Amended

Additional Comments: "I’m not the stepdad. I’m the dad who stepped up." — Jason Todd

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@tchatso

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

@that-one-fangirl69

@el-hrts

[dgaftilwedie]

redoing this again cuz the last time i did this, it was like almost a year ago... but now that im thinking about it my answers are kind of similar............

NAMGYU NAMGYU NAMGYU .... recently also michael de santa :3 (hoffman and billy lenz and the nameless ghouls are pretty much always there in the background too)

lighter ALWAYSSSSS

it's usually always cracked in the summer but i lock it in three different places because im paranoid

literally all of them

brown :3

idk man :( i thought it would be funny

hair ties are just easier to keep on me but i can't deny a good scrunchie

three but one of them doesn't even have water in it, it has hawaiian punch

ICED coffee, and it has to be like diabetes-in-a-cup for me to enjoy it

probably ^___^

writing

a very sleep kind

uhmmmmmm it's 1:42am now so like... maybe around midnight-ish???

who doesn't???

proud cat mom :3

ermm....... no....... no not yet........ soon i hope......... soon.........

the one where i can't see things far away

i use men's 2 in one shampoo ... that's it

DURRRRRR

soda

all of my stuffed animals... im supposed to be getting rid of some of them but that's going to be so hard

i don't know :3 i just go off of what people say

i like it sometimes, like in the fall through the early winter and also the early spring but i get kind of tired of it because i get cold easily. i would much rather be chilly than gross and warm and sweaty though............

probably talking... long ass conversation. maybe with drinks. i could go for a monster rn...

i feel like i use perfume more

not to be graphic but michael de santa giving me hella backshots

last night i think i got around like 8 hours??? i think???

not anymore... i haven't for like 3 years

cozy warm but not so hot it like, burns my skin and makes me look like a tomato

there are two cups, one bowl, and one fork... this is a record for me actually

anything by ghost, the gdtop album, swan songs by hollywood undead... and also my whole comfort band playlist

yes... it's supposed to be a beach towel but i use it for my showers anyways :P it has white and pink stripes on it

i went on a hike today with one of my friends. we bumped into each other at a gas station and were like "fuck it let's do something" so we went to a trail up the road. we also totally misread the maps so we ended up taking a way more like... physically complicated path instead of the more relaxed one so that was fun!!! my body hurts!!! then we went to get food and i got sushi AND chicken tenders ... yum yum yum

uhmmmmmmmmm first song that came to mind was he is by ghost

est :3

i changed it to something else ONCE and then i was immediately like "ew this is gross" like i lost my brand or something... i changed it back within 5 minutes LMFAOAOAO

a couple of my friends from elementary school, but there's only like three of them

i don't... use... soap bars...

YES GODDDDDDD YESSSSSSSSSSS i have a giant collection that just keeps growing... some of my favorites are chapstick clover honey, sour patch kids blue raspberry (it tastes sour), maple bacon, mountain dew livewire, and reese's peanut butter cup :3

today as in march 16th, no. today as in march 15th (because i haven't gone to bed), yeah i had smartfood

45% coffee, 25% creamer/milk/half&half/whatever the fuck, 30% sugar and whatever flavoring im feeling that day. ICED. so fucking iced it's basically a popsicle.

tiktok...................

i like them sometimes if they're not too spicy... i need to like make myself more tolerant to spice

i plead the 5th

yesterday as in march 15th, yes... yesterday as in march 14th, no.........?????? maybe?????? i don't remember right now it was probably just me playing gta v all day

BLACK CHRISTMAS 1974 WOOOOOOOO also the newer miser brothers christmas special... the one that was released in either 2008 or 2009 i don't remember exactly

"YOU DON'T KNOW DUCK TALES????????"

it was like 2021 i think, i was 15, and my mom gave me a sip of wine... EW.

i think i figured it out last summer ... but i haven't tried in a while

yeah sure why not idc :P

here’s weirder asks

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

lighter or matches?

do you leave the window open at night?

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

what color are your eyes?

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies?

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

would you slaughter the rich?

favorite extracurricular activity?

what kind of day is it?

when was the last time you ate?

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

can you drive?

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

what hair products do you use?

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

do you say soda or pop?

something you’ve kept since childhood?

what type of person are you?

how do you feel about chilly weather?

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

perfume/body spray or lotion?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

do you wear a mask?

how do you like your shower water?

is there dishes in your room?

what type of music keeps you grounded?

do you have a favorite towel?

the last adventure you’ve been on?

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

what’s your timezone?

how many times have you changed your url?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

a soap bar that smells good?

do you use lip balm?

did you have any snacks today?

how do you take your coffee?

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

what’s your take on spicy foods?

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

can you remember what happened yesterday?

favorite holiday film?

what was the last message you sent?

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

can you skip rocks?

can i tag you in random stuff?

[gracie-eilish]

sunshine on a cloudy day🧶🌧️☀️

here’s a blurb while i create my prompt list and continue fighting off this deadly writers block plague 🤓

also i typed this on my phone and i have long nails on again so as always ignore any missed typos or errors 🙃

the rain splattered against the window softly, giving your shared apartment a tranquil essence as you and billie enjoyed the last bit of your weekend.

your candle crackles away on the coffee table, giving filling the room with the smell of blue raspberry and sugar. billie thought it was too sweet, but you and your doe eyes always win.

other than the rain, the almost muted volume coming from the tv, and the puppy’s snoring on the floor were the only things to be heard. well that and the occasional soft groan from you.

“whatcha making over there?” billie asked softly, stifling a giggle at your latest grumble. she walked across the room from the kitchen, a mug full of tea in her hand, to come peek at your latest little hobby.

“well… i’m not sure yet, but i wanna practice the basic stitches a bunch before i set on making something ya know?” you barely looked up from your… dish cloth? tiny blanket? pot holder? you weren’t sure but you were having fun learning a new skill.

billie pressed a kiss to the top of your head before setting her tea down and plopping next to you on the couch, stretching an arm to rest around your shoulders.

“kinda looks like a cunty caterpillar,” she snorted, making you gasp and huff at her accusation.

“excuse me you were the one who said i should learn to crochet. and if i remember correctly, you were also the one who said it was gonna look funny for a while, while i was still learning so i don’t want to hear it,” you quipped back at her, not wanting any criticism from your once very patient teacher. clearly that patience was taking a leisurely day off.

“ok ok ok, im sorry darling. you’re right i did say that, i confess. it’s the best cunty caterpillar i’ve ever seen if that makes you feel better,” she teased, using her other hand to pinch your side making you squirm.

you just gave her a stank eye before continuing your stitches. not without snuggling into her side more of course, letting her arm rest around your shoulders and your head rest back on her own shoulder.

for a while the two of you sat there, billie occasionally pointing out a little fluke stitch, teaching you little tricks along the way. but for the most part you two relaxed in the quiet. puppy snores and the rain being your soundtrack.

at one point you grumbled and snuggled closer into her side, “ok why the fuck is it so cold in here? i thought it was humid outside today!” billie just hummed a response, feigning innocence hoping you didn’t notice the open window behind the couch. she always would open the window up a crack when it rained knowing you’d get cold and want to snuggle closer.

“i don’t know baby. i’ll check the heat in a bit,” she pressed a kiss to your shoulder, before moving her arm to snake around your waist to hold you closer, hoping to warm you up.

“i should make this into a blanket so i don’t fucking freeze,” you snorted making billie cackle.

“well get goin’ mama. your fuzzy caterpillar isn’t gonna do much for ya right now.”

“oh my GOD billie!” you tried to hide your giggle while scolding her, but you were unable to when she started giggling with you, peppering your cheek with ticklish kisses.

the wind had died down leaving the rain to be soft little splats on the window, your candle had started to burn out leaving only a bit of light left from it, and billie had started to grow sleepy snuggling you so close and warm.

“i don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” you half said, half yawned setting down your crocheting with a huff.

“i know mama. don’t think about it yet though. you just stay right here with me and your cunty crochet caterpillar looking rectangle,” she said in her silly little voice making you snort.

you turned to place a soft kiss to her cheek, making her eyes sparkle when they met yours. you both smiled for a moment before settling back to your snuggles.

“maybe next time you can make like, a cunty snake or something.”

“BILLIE!”

[lostinlovingrevery]

Info dump your fave Logan things and concepts SFW and NSFW so one of us can write you a banging indulgent fanfic? Lemme spoil u bbygrl. ( Nonny bc Idk if this is chill or if I'm weird for this. 😭 )

NONNNNNNY YOU ARE SO SWEET I'M GONNA CRRRYYYY

I could go on FOR HOURS about my fav logan things omg, so i'll try to keep this down to my FAV favorites <3 (SFW and NSFW ahead!)(i might make another similar post w a whole bunch more bc this got me thiiiinkiiin)

SFW

Logan listening to hyperfixations, STRAIGHT UP. He may sit silently, and do other stuff while you rant, but he LISTENS so good. makes comments and reassures that hes still listening

Soft, gentle touches. Him putting his hand on your lower back when leading you through a crowd, scratching your back or arm while cuddling (God im such a slut for that)

LAUGHING TOGETHER. I wanna see that man GIGGLE. I wanna see him GUFFAWING. he's laughing so hard he's crying.

Logan likes to sit outside during his downtime I think. I think he likes being able to breathe fresh air (and probs smoke freely without anyone jumping his ass over it lmao). Imagine sitting on the porch on his lap during a spring thunderstorm. His big arms wrapped around you protectively. bonus points if you're on a porch swing (altho w how heavy logan is COULD he sit on a porch swing w/o breaking it???)

butterfly kissess butterfly kisses

we talk a lot about his deep passionate kisses and believe me I LOVE THAT. but Lately i just been obsseseed with him giving fluttery lil kisses all over your face

also nose nuzzles. ive been including those a lot in my fics lmao

God i love his beard so much, wanna scratch it and pet it. I like to think he'd would teasingly rub it all over your face

WAIT A MIN. CATS DO THAT.

lmao

early morning snuggles

yknow those super passionate kisses and dips those old hollywood movies do? yeah that with Logan

NSFW

unfg

His. Stamina. God i want this man going at it with me for HOURS.

TBH Im so indecisive about what Logans fav position would be. I feel like mating press would drive him INSANE. You're bent and half and logan just SLAMMING his shit into you. so hard and fast the BED FRAME BREAKS

I LOVE the idea of Logan being this tough guy loner who could have anyone he wanted, but he becomes completely OBSESSED with you. Everything you do turns him on. You could put him smack in the middle of a strip club and he'll still be thinking about you

his shaky thighs when you suck him off and make him completely undone

him being so much bigger than you that you're pretty much swallowed by him. hes onto of you, between your legs and there's a significant STRETCH in how far you have to spread your legs for him to fit with his hips flush against yours

turning into a puddle underneath him as he fucks you sooooo good your speechless and in a whole another world, and he's just sweet talking and cooing at you how pretty you are and what a good girl you are and mmmmmph yes

manhandling. god i just want him to be forcing me into different positions and picking me up and carrying me all over the place. also just throwing me over his shoulder is fun

dominant but sweet orders. "Give me a kiss", "go on, take a seat." "get those pretty lips on my cock sweetheart" teehee

i'm a slut for creampies honestly almost everyone of my smut fics has a creampie lmao. logan DEF loves a good creampie

[elodieunderglass]

In terms of "nerdy stuff that Derek would love and Killie would find completely confusing and possibly threatening", where would playing escape rooms fall? Killie seems like he'd have a hit-or-miss relationship with puzzles and riddles while Derek seems like he had a formative relationship with The Hobbit's 'Riddles in the Dark' scene

(Killie the OC)

You’re so right bestie!! Killie was something of an asset in the competitive nerd gaming circumstances they met in; as you say, a hit-or-miss thing. The nerds wanted him on their team for a lot of reasons besides his nice bum. He’s very good at math, spatial reasoning, and things like calculating odds. I’m currently picturing a sort of Lord of the Rings themed reality show in which teams competed outdoors to get points, and it was useful having at least one person as a strong practical and physical presence, even one with zero trope awareness.

Unfortunately the locked-in-a-room aspect of escape rooms, while obvious to anyone else, would not necessarily enhance the abilities of someone who is mentally kind of a wild horse.

He’s sort of emitting a stressed-out frequency audible only to bees and Charlie. It feels like High C, or perhaps a fork in a microwave. He’s fine though. Cool. Chill, even. He’s participating. Just out of interest: would anyone object to him having the door open. Or breaking it open? maybe. Yeah. No, no, carry on with the things and stuff.

It’s just that Killie has kind of a thing about stealing - well not so much stealing horses as moving them around a bit, with certain amounts of doors or gates or latches or morals or checks upon one’s impulses in the way being sort of academic, if there’s a Situation - and he suddenly fancies stealing himself.

Not that it’s a SITUATION

yet

but TWENTY MINUTES, DEREK, OR I BREAK THE -

(Quick shout to the escape room staff: he doesn’t mean it)

I DO MEAN IT

(He’s having fun)

IM - IM HAVING FUN

[crystaleevee4]

dear lord why would you do this to me fallguy. /lh

i must root through my wips...... i havent written in a while b/c pokemon....................... doesnt help that my order of docs is all mixed up bc i like to reread old stuff

ok

i will be brief

so uhh since im not sure what actually were my most recent. take a few

It’s winged, one-two-three-four-five-six, six, six wings, four at its b     ac  k two behind its ears,        natura   l red at the root of eac      h wing, streaks of red in its      hairspreading like a corruption red-red-red-red-red-red, red, bright natural red finally something colorful li k eho me, the creature says weakly, “You’re… definitely not”                 fascinating its eyes are bright bright blue blue like Zed’s oil-slick home”Impulse.”oh he’s get ti   ng all bent out of shape iiiiiiiiisn ‘         t he his thoughts are going          going                                          gone and there.

^this one was from a Situations(tm) ask game request from like almost a year ago oops

2.

Hey, here’s a fun fact: Impulse has never killed anyone. He’s watched Pearl do it, and he’s watched Gem do it even more, and he always feels a little sick inside, and he always, always, pushes that feeling back down, fills the hole left behind with apathy that drips thick like a heavy fog. 

^funky lil hgcz soup group thingy im workin on. again i havent touched this in months. smoke signal ily

3.

In which Impulse cannot, as a matter of fact, create rock candy. He wishes he could, though. That’d be nice.

^idk if this counts bc it's from the draft for the chapter summary but whatever. my multishot (still with only one published chap that will probably be rewritten later) skizz-centric hero au with a twist (it's that he fucking gets fired. it's that he was doing great being a hero and then they fired him and he gets to be a normal person for the first time in five years working at a new-old job where preteens are far too nosy for their own good and he is narrowly avoiding triggering his half-a-decade-long's worth of traumas at all times because said preteens loove heroes) that i have not touched in over a year. yippee!!

4.

Just… freakin’ Bdubs.”

Tango snorts. “No kidding.” 

^what i like to call "space impdubs divorce arc" which for once is not skizz centric! though given that all my snippets so far still manage to have copious amounts of impulsesv, i'm not really sure how valid that "skizz centric" comment is /hj

5.

actually something from a shared au me and my friend are making (he has done. all of the writing so far. but i help with brainstorming!) (also this is more than 3 sentences and also not the most recent part bc im not so cruel as to leave you all with THAT horribly out-of-context.... thing that is the most recent 3 sentences) (also we again havent touched this doc in months) vvv

also it's actually several disconnected paragraphs bc i just love this au so much. these are COMPLETELY OUT OF ORDER you WILL NOT FIND A TIMELINE BY READING THESE

i am adding soo many paragraphs bc i love my coauthor's writing so so much 🫶 ily oomf 🫶

---

Pumping a fist in the air, Skizz nearly jammed his knuckles into the ceiling, laughing out, "Yeah, baby!!"

"Careful, tallass," Bdubs warned, swatting at the air in a motion between the plafond and Skizz.

---

"Alright, I think I'm ready," Skizz at last announced, pushing himself up and onto his feet. The hard floor clacked beneath him, and it spurred a moment of consideration—he could abandon the heels for this jaunt, both for comfort and to abide by the demands of his team leader… or, alternatively, he could maintain a height of 6'9, likely much to Bdubs's chagrin.

---

Bdubs rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, shifting his weight. "Oh, stop it, you two," he barked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Time and place."

"As if backstage at a club isn't the time or place," Tango remarked toward Zed, quietly, earning a chuckle out of the man.

---

"Aw. We got Top all sapped up," teased Skizz, earning a snort from her, as well as a resigned sigh from Bdubs.

“Yup. I’m all gooey now,” Tekne said, still smiling. Skizz took a deep breath in to resist making the joke, and Tekne noticed, shifting the conversation.

[note: this is like the one section i actually wrote a sentence in which uh really says a lot LOL]

---

Muffled from the other side, a voice responded, "Yeah?"

"I'm coming in!"

"O-Okay? Sure? I'm not dressed but sure."

"You act like I haven't seen you naked before!"

---

"I think it makes perfect sense. I have hundreds of number one supporters. They're all number one to me and to themselves!"

---

^man writing this au is HARD bc my coauthor (aka the one who wrote all those paragraphs (its fine ive been given permission to share)) is a past-tense writer and i am decidedly NOT. its ok tho we persevere p[?????] persist. or something

not saying anything the au's about bc if youre in a discord server w/ me you probably know it and even without that, it's... pretty easy to figure out

ok now that we've gotten a nice 5 in let's tag some folks!

@1watermelontea bc how could i not

@nine-of-diamonds by contractual obligation (relation to melonge)

@crabbri by contractual obligation (relation to melonge)

@enkays-den bc i like your writing and im pushing the limits of the tumblr mutual privileges (aka i need to interact more with my moots)

@slashmagpie if u dont mind bc i laurve ur writing and were moots

ok that was technically 3 bc 1-of-crabs is basically a package deal /j

also take this extremely out of context screenshot bc why not. a right fount of information, i am /ref

WIP checkpoint!

reblog this with the last 3 sentences you wrote from your current WIP

[luvoooenha]

Fake skating

Summary- Y/N and Sunghoon have been ice skating rivals for as long as she can remember—or so she thinks. To Y/N, Sunghoon is the enemy: the boy who always outshines her on the ice, snatches her titles, her hard-earned moments, and, worst of all, her parents' approval. Their relentless comparisons and favoritism sting more than she'd ever admit. She tells herself she doesn’t care... but she does. She cares too much.

Worse still, ice skating—once something she loved—has become a prison. The pressure, the spotlight, and the constant race to beat Sunghoon have drained her. One day, something snaps. A small moment—maybe a stumble, a comment, or just a realization—hits her like a blade to the back of her head: She doesn’t have to do this anymore. Five months before the skating season begins, Y/N shocks everyone by quitting ice skating to pursue something unexpected—cheerleading.

The decision rocks their world. Her parents are furious. The skating world is stunned. And Sunghoon? He’s pissed. Not because he hates her like she thinks—but because he secretly loves skating with her. Ever since they were kids, she’s been his fire, his rival, his everything. Now, with her gone, the ice feels colder, emptier.

As Y/N flourishes in cheer, Sunghoon is forced to confront the truth: rivalry was never what he felt for her. And maybe… just maybe, Y/N is about to realize that too.

Paring- Ice skater! Sunghoon x Cheerleader! Y/N

warnings! angst, kissing, bad relationship with parents, peer pressure, contact with ex (ik yall need this one...), imposter syndrome (kinda), PDA, crying, pls lmk if I missed some!

wc: 18k

a/n- finished this in 9 hours (we all cheer!) im writing this bc I loved high school cheer 💞

Y/N had always hated Park Sunghoon. Not the kind of petty dislike you develop for someone in passing, but a deep, seething loathing that came from years of rivalry, of stolen victories, and spotlight-snatching. Sunghoon was everywhere. On the ice, in her coaches' praises, on her parents' lips.

 "Why can’t you be more like Sunghoon? Look how clean his footwork is. Look at that triple axel! He’s so dedicated."

Dedicated. Talented. Perfect.

And Y/N was always a step behind.

They had started skating together as kids, back when things were simpler. Back when ice skating was fun and not a competition. But everything changed the moment Sunghoon started winning, and Y/N didn’t. Not that she lost often, but even one second place behind him felt like failure in her parents' eyes.

Her hatred simmered with every medal he took home, every cheer from the crowd meant for her but redirected to him. He didn’t even try to be nice about it. Always calm, composed, with that smug little smirk when he bowed for applause.

She hated him. She hated him so much.

But Sunghoon? He didn’t hate her the way she thought he did. Sure, they argued, exchanged icy glares, and their banter could cut through titanium. But behind it all, his feelings weren’t made of hate. They were made of something else, something he didn’t dare speak aloud.

Because to him, Y/N wasn’t just a rival. She was the rival. The reason he pushed harder, trained longer, aimed higher. Skating with her, against her, was the thrill he lived for. He couldn't imagine a rink without her.

Then one day, everything changed.

Y/N stood in the center of the rink, her skates on for what would be the last time. She had made up her mind. The resentment, the pressure, the suffocating expectations—it was too much. She had started skating for herself, but now, it wasn’t even hers anymore. It belonged to her parents, to the judges, to Sunghoon.

As she landed her final jump, her coach's whistle cut through the rink like a blade.

"Stop! What was that? Are you even trying, Y/N? That performance was lifeless. Flat. Again! From the top."

Y/N blinked, sweat dripping down her face, lungs burning.

"Coach, I—"

"No excuses! You're sloppy. You think this half-hearted effort is going to win you anything? You want to keep embarrassing yourself next to Sunghoon? Because that’s all you’re doing lately. If you can’t keep up, maybe it’s time to rethink your priorities."

Something in Y/N cracked. The words slammed into her chest like a freight train, knocking the air out of her lungs. Her hands curled into fists as tears stung her eyes.

"You know what? You're right," she said, voice trembling. "I am rethinking my priorities. I'm done. I quit."

Silence fell over the rink. Her coach gaped, stunned. Sunghoon turned sharply, eyes wide.

There was a beat of silence before her coach let out a short laugh. "Very funny, Y/N. Now stop playing around and take your position again. From the top."

Y/N yanked off her skates, throwing them down with a thud. "I'm not joking! I can't do this anymore. I try my best, every single day, and it's never enough. I feel like I have to be perfect, like I have to be like Sunghoon or else I'm nothing! Do you know how exhausting that is? To give everything you have and still feel like you're falling short—like you're invisible?"

Her voice rose, cracking under the weight of years of bottled-up frustration. "I hate it! I hate how this feels! I used to love skating, but now it's just pressure and pain and—"

Her words choked off, and tears streamed down her face as she sank to her knees on the ice, sobbing for the first time since she was a little girl. Her shoulders shook with each breath, and the weight of years of pressure finally broke her.

Her coach froze, the laughter gone, replaced by awkward silence. "Y/N... come on now, don't be like this. You're just tired. Think about all the work you've put in, all the competitions ahead. You don't want to throw that away, do you? Think about your parents. They’ve sacrificed so much for you."

The guilt-tripping only made her cry harder. No one moved. No one spoke. For once, it wasn’t about winning or losing. It was just about her.

She had broken free, and it hurt like hell.

Grabbing her bag with trembling hands, Y/N stormed out of the rink, skates clenched tightly, boots clacking against the floor with every determined step. Her breaths came in sharp bursts, vision blurred by tears she couldn’t stop.

Behind her, Sunghoon watched, frozen for a moment, then took off after her. "Y/N! Wait!"

She didn’t stop. The door slammed open and she stepped into the cold air, needing space, distance—anything but him.

"Y/N!" Sunghoon called again, catching up to her in the parking lot. "Talk to me! You can’t just walk away like that."

She spun around, eyes blazing. "Why not? Why can’t I, Sunghoon? What do you want me to say? That I’m fine? That this doesn’t matter? It meant nothing to you, but it meant everything to me. And I can’t anymore. I just can’t."

He stared at her, stunned. "It didn’t mean anything. It never did."

But to Y/N, at that moment, his words were just noise.

She turned away, shoulders shaking, and kept walking.

When Y/N got home, her parents were waiting.

"What were you thinking?" her mother snapped. "You made a scene! Quitting? Is that your idea of a joke?"

"You embarrassed us," her father added, eyes cold. "After everything we’ve done for you, and this is how you repay us? Throwing it all away like it’s nothing? Do you know how much money we've spent on your training, the sacrifices we've made? Do you think this is some game?"

"I'm not a puppet!" Y/N screamed, her voice cracking from all the held-in anger. "You talk about sacrifices? I sacrificed myself for this stupid dream that wasn’t even mine! You never asked what I wanted. You just shoved me into skates and expected perfection. I’m done! I’m done killing myself to make you proud. I'm tired of being compared to Sunghoon like I'm nothing more than a failure."

Her mother stepped forward, face flushed with fury. "You ungrateful child! You think this is about what you want? We’ve given you everything—"

"No! You gave me pressure, and guilt, and a life that doesn’t belong to me! I don’t want it! I want to live for myself! I want to breathe, and choose my own future!"

Her father’s voice was low, dangerous. "You’re a junior in high school. You’ve got a future ahead of you—college recruiters are watching, scouts have shown interest. You’re going to throw away your shot at scholarships, your entire career—because of what? A tantrum?"Y/N’s hands trembled, but her voice was steel. "It’s not a tantrum. It’s me choosing my future. Maybe I don’t want to go to college for skating. Maybe I want to try something new, something that actually makes me happy. Maybe I want to cheer, or theater, or anything else. And if that means losing everything you planned for me, then so be it."

Her mother’s face twisted in disbelief. "You want to cheer? That’s what you’re throwing your life away for? After all our sacrifices, all our time, all our money—"

"It’s not your life!" Y/N shouted, eyes blazing with unshed tears. "It’s mine! And I’m taking it back."

Her father’s voice dropped to a growl. "If you walk away from this, from everything we’ve done for you—don’t expect our help. Not with college, not with anything. You’re on your own."

Y/N took a shaky breath, heart pounding. "I’m not asking for your support anymore. I don’t need it. I just need to be me."

Her parents stood in stunned silence, and for the first time, Y/N wasn’t afraid of their disappointment.

She was just Y/N, finally standing on her own.

Y/N dropped her bag onto the bedroom floor, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders. She stood still for a moment, staring at the door like it might somehow close off the noise in her mind. The argument with her parents, the look on Sunghoon’s face, the stinging words she’d thrown in the heat of frustration—it all circled around her like a storm she couldn’t escape.

Her hand trembled as she picked up her phone. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath until she saw the missed messages.

One from Sunghoon. A few from Yunjin. One from Coach Minji.

Her throat tightened again, this time with a feeling she couldn’t quite place. The fear of what Sunghoon might have said. They worry that Yunjin will be angry. And Minji… Well, Coach Minji’s messages were always a direct reflection of her expectations—something she was no longer sure she could meet.

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, phone still in her hands, staring at the screen. The world felt muffled, like she was floating just out of reach of everything she used to know. She had made her decision. It had been impulsive, almost reckless—but now, in the silence of her room, she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to face what came next.

Her thumb hovered over Sunghoon’s message. She could almost hear his voice through the screen, the sharpness of his anger, the disappointment, or maybe something else she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Yunjin’s messages were no better, her best friend undoubtedly full of concern, maybe even a little confusion. But it was Coach Minji’s message that lingered in her thoughts.

She opened it.

"Y/N, we need to talk. This decision is not something I take lightly, and neither should you. I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow morning. I hope you’ve thought this through."

The words hit her harder than she expected. She had thought she was done, that walking away was the only way to free herself, but Minji’s message reminded her just how many people she was leaving behind—people who had invested in her. People who had believed in her when she couldn’t.

Her breath caught in her chest, and for a moment, the room felt impossibly small. What had she done?

Y/N stared at Coach Minji’s message for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the screen as if the words might change if she gave them enough time. But they didn’t. They were there, cold and final, a reminder of the world she had just walked away from. A world she thought she could never escape from.

She had always been good at pushing through—at burying the doubts and pushing down the guilt until it became a dull hum in the background. But now, it felt like the noise was deafening, every echo of her old life ringing in her ears.

The truth was, Y/N wasn’t sure when it had all started to feel like a cage, but she knew it had been a long time coming. For years, she had lived for the approval of her coaches, her parents, and the skating world. They’d made her believe that winning was everything. That titles and awards were all that mattered. But in the end, it was nothing but pressure. A pressure that had consumed her.

She had thought quitting would feel like freedom, like stepping into a space where she could breathe again. But now that the choice was made, the weight of it was heavy, like a stone in her chest. The fear of the unknown gnawed at her insides, but it was nothing compared to the suffocating feeling of being trapped in a life that wasn’t hers.

Her fingers hovered over the phone again, and she could almost hear Coach Minji’s disappointed tone in her mind, and could almost picture the stern look she would get in the rink tomorrow. But Y/N didn’t care anymore. She wasn’t going back. Not to skate. Not to that world.

She deleted the message from Minji without a second thought, her pulse racing as if the simple action was somehow going to release her from the grip of her past.

As for Sunghoon... Well, his message could wait.

Y/N didn’t know if she was ready to confront him yet. She didn’t know if she was ready to face the fact that everything she had believed about their rivalry—about him—might have been wrong. Maybe he wasn’t the enemy after all. Maybe he had been the only person who truly understood what it was like to be stuck in that world. But even the thought of confronting him, of having to talk through everything, felt too much. Too soon.

She wouldn’t respond to him. Not today. Maybe not ever.

Instead, she focused on the new path she was carving for herself. Cheerleading was different. It was wild, chaotic, loud—and most importantly, it was hers. No comparisons. No judgments. No constant fight to prove she was enough.

The pressure was gone. For the first time in years, Y/N could breathe. And that, she realized, was worth more than any title, any medal, or any coach’s approval.

She placed her phone face down on the nightstand and curled up under the covers, her mind still racing but with a sense of quiet resolve settling in. Tomorrow, she would step into a new world—one where she wasn’t defined by her past. One where, for the first time in forever, she could simply be herself.

And for the first time in a long time, she felt a flicker of hope.

The next morning, Y/N walked into school with her head held high, but the familiar buzz of the hallway felt different today. Normally, she would have felt energized, ready to push through another day of balancing practice, schoolwork, and everything in between. But today, everything felt off. Like the weight of her decision was following her, hanging over every step she took.

Yunjin caught up with her by the lockers, her usual bright energy replaced by something more cautious.

"Y/N, we need to talk," she said, her voice low but steady, like she knew Y/N had already made up her mind.

Y/N paused, biting her lip. She didn't want to face this yet, but Yunjin was her best friend. The one person who knew her better than anyone else, the one who always had her back. The thought of disappointing her hurt more than she cared to admit.

"What’s up?" Y/N said, trying to sound casual, though she could feel the tension in her own voice.

Yunjin glanced around before pulling Y/N aside into a quieter corner of the hallway. "You’ve been avoiding me all morning," she started, her eyes full of concern. "And… I get it. I know this decision was big, but you’ve barely said a word since yesterday. Are you okay?"

Y/N forced a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, I’m fine."

But Yunjin wasn’t buying it. "No, you’re not," she pressed. "I get that you’re going through a lot right now, but running away from it isn’t the answer. You can’t just ignore everything. Especially not Sunghoon." Her eyes softened as she said his name, like she knew how difficult it would be for Y/N to hear.

"Sunghoon?" Y/N laughed, but it was hollow. "Why do you even care about him? He’s the one who’s always made everything harder for me. He doesn’t care about me, Yunjin. He just wants to win."

But Yunjin shook her head, crossing her arms. "That’s not true. You know that’s not true." Her voice was firm, and for a moment, Y/N could hear the underlying hurt in her words. "He’s been texting you nonstop, hasn’t he? He’s been worried about you. And you haven’t even responded."

Y/N’s throat tightened. She hadn’t realized it, but she had been ignoring all of Sunghoon’s messages since yesterday. She hadn’t even opened his texts. It was easier that way—easier to keep the world she had left behind at arm's length.

"I don’t need him to worry about me," Y/N muttered, feeling the sting of her own words. "I’m done with all of it. Done with skating. Done with him."

Yunjin’s eyes softened, but she didn’t push. Instead, she gave Y/N a small, knowing look. "You’re not just done with him, are you?" she asked quietly. "You’re running from something. From everything. But Y/N, you can’t just keep shutting everyone out."

Y/N bit her lip, feeling the lump form in her throat. She hadn’t realized it before, but the more Yunjin spoke, the more it hurt. Maybe it wasn’t just skating she was running from. Maybe it was Sunghoon. And maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t understood how much he had meant to her. How much he had been there all along, even in ways she hadn’t recognized.

As if on cue, Yunjin’s phone buzzed, breaking the silence. She glanced down at it and her expression shifted. "It’s Sunghoon," she said, her voice softer now. "He’s asking to meet up. He wants to talk."

Y/N’s stomach dropped. "I don’t want to talk to him," she said quickly, but it was too late. The words were already out there, and she couldn’t take them back.

But Yunjin wasn’t letting up. "Y/N, you have to talk to him. You don’t get it, do you? He’s not just your rival. He’s been your closest person for so long. You’ve both been pushing each other to the limit, but... that’s not just rivalry. It never was."

Y/N stared at her friend, the truth slowly sinking in. The realization hit her like a punch in the gut. Sunghoon had always been there, always been the person who pushed her, challenged her, made her feel something other than emptiness. But she had always seen him as the enemy, the one who took everything she wanted, the one who made her feel like she wasn’t good enough.

But now… now she saw it. He had been struggling too, just in a different way. And worse, she hadn’t even given him the chance to explain. She hadn’t even realized that he cared.

"I didn’t know," Y/N whispered, the weight of the realization pressing down on her chest. "I didn’t know he felt like that."

Yunjin gave her a sad smile, the kind that said everything without needing words. "He does, Y/N. But you’re shutting him out. And if you keep doing that… you’re going to lose him. You’re not just quitting skating. You’re walking away from everything that made you who you are."

Y/N’s heart ached, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t just because of the pressure. It was because she had made a decision that had hurt the people she cared about most, without even realizing it.

She needed to face him. She needed to understand the things she had ignored for so long. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to make things right. But for now, she just had to take the first step.

Y/N found herself standing at the corner of the school’s courtyard, her palms sweaty despite the cool breeze. She hadn’t agreed to meet Sunghoon, not really, but somehow she ended up here, the weight of his unspoken words hanging over her. Her thoughts were scattered, but there was a part of her that knew she couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

A figure appeared from the shadows—Sunghoon, walking toward her with that familiar, determined stride. He stopped a few feet away, his face unreadable but his eyes sharp, like he was waiting for her to speak. For her to say something, anything, that would break the tension between them.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Y/N could feel the space between them crackling, filled with unspoken questions, unsaid words.

Finally, Sunghoon spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "You really think you can just walk away from everything, Y/N?"

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She wanted to deny it, to tell him that she was fine, that everything was fine, but the truth was too much to hold in. She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but they were lost somewhere deep inside her.

"I… I don’t know what else to do," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. "Skating was everything, and now it’s nothing. It feels like I’m suffocating in it, Sunghoon. I don’t even remember why I started anymore. I’m just so tired of fighting for something that… that I don’t even want."

Sunghoon’s gaze softened, but there was no anger in his eyes—only concern, a deep, unspoken hurt. He stepped closer, closing the distance between them, his presence solid and unwavering.

"You think quitting will fix it?" he asked, his voice low, almost gentle. "Do you really think running away from skating will solve everything?"

Y/N’s chest tightened, and she finally let the walls around her heart crack. She blinked hard, trying to stop the tears from spilling, but they came anyway. The vulnerability she had been hiding for so long was too much to hold back.

"I don’t know," she choked out. "I just… I just wanted to feel like I was more than just a title. More than just what everyone else expected of me. I wanted to be… free. But now, I feel even worse. I thought quitting would help, but I don’t even know who I am anymore."

Sunghoon didn’t speak right away. Instead, he stepped forward, his hand reaching out, gently brushing her arm. It wasn’t the touch she expected, but it was the one she needed. For once, he wasn’t the rival who pushed her to be better—he was the person who was simply there.

He took another step closer, his voice soft but insistent. "Y/N, I know you’ve been carrying this for a long time. I know it’s not easy, but you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here. Always have been."

Y/N’s heart ached at his words, and before she could stop herself, she felt the flood of emotion hit her all at once. Her chest heaved as she fought to keep the tears at bay, but they spilled over anyway. "I’m scared, Sunghoon," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Scared of failing. Scared of being nothing."

His hand moved to her shoulder, steady and comforting. "You’re not nothing," he said, his voice steady, like he was trying to anchor her in a storm. "You never were. And you’re not alone in this. You don’t have to be the perfect skater, the perfect daughter, the perfect anything. You’re enough as you are."

Y/N looked up at him, eyes full of disbelief. For so long, she had seen him as the one who always had everything figured out—the one who never faltered, never showed weakness. And now, here he was, offering her something she hadn’t even known she needed: understanding, acceptance, and a kindness that was impossible to ignore.

"I didn’t realize how much I hurt you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn’t even think about how it was affecting you."

Sunghoon’s expression softened, but there was no anger in his eyes. Just… a quiet sadness. "You didn’t know," he said simply. "And I didn’t know how to tell you. But I’m not mad, Y/N. I just… I want you to be happy. I want you to feel like you’re not doing this just for everyone else. For once, do it for yourself."

Y/N felt a shudder pass through her, her heart pounding in her chest as his words sank in. For the first time in ages, she felt like maybe she wasn’t alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward—without the weight of expectations, without the pressure of being perfect.

She took a shaky breath, her hands still trembling. "I don’t know if I can go back to skating," she admitted, her voice fragile. "But I want to figure out who I am without it. I don’t want to keep pretending to be something I’m not."

Sunghoon nodded, a small, understanding smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You don’t have to go back to skating if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. But whatever you decide, I’ll be here. I’ve always been here."

Y/N felt the weight on her shoulders lighten just a little, the pressure of the decision she had made beginning to ease. Maybe she didn’t have all the answers yet. Maybe she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. But for the first time, she wasn’t scared to figure it out. And she wasn’t alone.

As Sunghoon stood beside her, the tension between them began to dissolve. Maybe the rivalry wasn’t over, but it didn’t have to define them anymore. Not when they both finally understood what really mattered.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Y/N. Her conversation with Sunghoon had given her a lot to think about, and as she walked home, the weight in her chest had lessened, replaced by a strange sense of resolve. She hadn’t realized how much she had been holding in until now. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to figure things out.

When she walked into her room, she tossed her bag onto the bed and let out a deep breath. The house was quiet—too quiet—and the silence made her feel even more unsure about everything she had left behind. But then, as she sat down at her desk, something caught her eye.

A small flyer was pinned to the corkboard by her window, one she hadn’t noticed before. It was brightly colored, with bold, attention-grabbing text: Cheerleading Tryouts - Two Weeks Away!

Her pulse quickened as she stepped closer, reading the details. Two cheer clinics next week, tryouts on Monday. The more she read, the more the excitement bubbled up inside her. This was it. The step she needed to take.

For the first time in a long while, she felt a spark of something—something other than doubt or fear. Maybe this is what I’ve been looking for, she thought.

Y/N had always loved the energy of cheerleading. It was different than skating—it was fast, loud, and full of adrenaline. The thought of performing stunts, the idea of being part of a team again, made her heart race. And the best part? She wasn’t starting from scratch. She had the skills.

She wasn’t just someone who could do a toe touch or a right hurdler. She could do a front handspring. She’d stunted with her cousins countless times just for fun, laughing as they lifted each other in the air. The balance, the flexibility, the coordination—it was all there. She had the basics, the physical foundation. It was just a matter of diving in and trusting herself.

Y/N placed her hand on the flyer, the weight of the decision settling into her mind. She wasn’t going to let fear stop her anymore. This was the next step in her life, the next chapter. She could feel the pull of it, the way it called to her in a way that skating hadn’t for a long time.

"I’m doing this," she whispered to herself, the words firm in the quiet room. "I’m taking the step. No looking back."

She grabbed her phone and texted Yunjin: Hey, I'm going to the cheer clinic next week. You should come with me.

The excitement of the idea hit her all over again, and this time, there was no hesitation. No second-guessing. She was ready. Ready to let go of the past and embrace something new. Something that was hers, something that felt right.

It wasn’t just about trying something different—it was about reclaiming herself. She wasn’t defined by her past, by the titles and expectations. She was ready to redefine who she was.

And no matter what came next, she knew she would face it head-on, with a strength she didn’t know she had until now.

The cheer clinic was held in the gymnasium of the high school, a place Y/N had walked past countless times but never truly noticed. Now, as she stepped inside, the sound of sneakers slapping against the polished floor and the sharp, rhythmic claps of hands echoed in the space, and she felt the excitement buzzing in the air.

The clinic was packed with girls—some familiar faces from school, others she’d never seen before, all stretching and warming up in groups. The atmosphere was electric, and for the first time in ages, Y/N felt a spark of joy. This wasn’t about competition. This wasn’t about perfection. It was about fun, energy, and being part of something bigger than herself.

Yunjin walked beside her, equally excited but also nervous. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, her eyes wide. “This is... a whole different world from skating.”

Y/N smiled, her stomach fluttering with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. “Yeah, but I think it’s exactly what I need. I’m ready for something new. And I’m not starting from scratch. I’ve got some moves.”

Yunjin laughed. “I know you do. I’ve seen you do stunts with your cousins. You’ve got this.”

They joined the group at the center of the gym, where Coach Minjae, the cheerleading coach, was already giving instructions. Coach Minjae was all smiles, exuding energy and enthusiasm that made Y/N’s nerves ease just a little. "Alright, ladies!" he called, clapping his hands. "We’re here to get a feel for cheerleading. Stretch, warm up, and let’s get ready to move."

Y/N joined in with the group, stretching her muscles and feeling her body loosen up. It felt good—she was flexible, had the strength, and the muscle memory from skating was already kicking in. She could do a toe touch, a right hurdler—nothing too complicated, but it was a start.

Coach Minjae moved among the girls, offering pointers and encouragement. After a few minutes, they began practicing some basic stunts—nothing too advanced, just a simple toss and catch. Y/N’s heart raced as they paired up. She didn’t know anyone here, but it didn’t matter. She just needed to prove to herself that she could do this.

When it was her turn, Y/N partnered with a girl named Mira, a senior who was tall and strong, a perfect base for stunting. Mira looked at her with a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry, we got this."

Y/N nodded, holding her breath as she stepped into position. Mira helped lift her up into a basic cradle, lifting her smoothly into the air. The feeling was exhilarating—there was no ice beneath her, no cold, just the rush of adrenaline and the sound of the gym all around her. It felt freeing.

“Great job, Y/N! You’ve got the technique down!” Coach Minjae called from the sidelines, and Y/N couldn’t help but beam. The approval felt different than it had when skating. It felt genuine. She wasn’t just being praised for her ability to win—it was about the effort, the teamwork, the energy. It was refreshing.

As the clinic progressed, they moved on to more complex stunts. Y/N’s confidence grew with each one, the group getting into sync as they learned to work together. She stunted with a few different girls, her heart racing each time she was lifted into the air or tossed up for a handspring. Her muscles were sore from the new movements, but it was the good kind of soreness—the kind that reminded her she was challenging herself, pushing her boundaries in a way she hadn’t for a long time.

After about two hours of practice, Coach Minjae gathered everyone into a circle for the final part of the clinic: the tumbling session. Y/N felt a familiar thrill run through her—this was her element. She had done front handsprings countless times as a kid, and now was her chance to show off. She stretched again and got into position, pushing herself into a fluid back handspring and landing solidly on her feet.

"That’s what I’m talking about!" Coach Minjae said, grinning as he clapped. "Nice work, Y/N! You’ve got natural talent."

Y/N’s heart swelled with pride. She hadn’t expected to feel so at home so quickly, but it was like the movements were second nature. It wasn’t the same as skating, but in some ways, it felt even better. Here, she wasn’t just pushing herself to be perfect. She was learning, growing, and enjoying the process.

When the clinic wrapped up, Y/N was sweaty and exhausted, but there was a grin on her face that didn’t fade. She looked at Yunjin, who was standing nearby, her eyes wide with awe.

“That was amazing,” Yunjin said. “You were incredible out there. You’re a natural.”

Y/N laughed, her breath still heavy. “I guess I didn’t realize how much I missed being in a team. It’s different from skating, but... it feels right.”

As they made their way to the exit, Coach Minjae called out to Y/N, motioning for her to come over. “Hey, I saw you out there today,” he said with a friendly smile. “You’ve got a lot of potential. I’m excited to see how you do at tryouts on Monday. Keep practicing what you’ve learned. And don’t forget, the clinic next week is a great opportunity to refine your skills before tryouts. We’re looking for someone with your drive.”

Y/N’s heart raced again. “Thanks, Coach. I’ll be ready.”

As she walked out of the gym with Yunjin, the energy still buzzing in her veins, she knew this was just the beginning. She hadn’t just stepped into the world of cheerleading; she had stepped into a new chapter of her life.

It wasn’t about quitting skating—it was about finding herself again, finding joy in something new, and realizing she was more than just a skater. She was a person with strength, flexibility, and passion—and she wasn’t going to let anything or anyone take that away.

Y/N walked through the door, her heart still racing from the excitement of the clinic. The buzz of adrenaline hadn't quite worn off, and for the first time in days, she felt at peace with her decision. She was doing something for herself, something she was good at and enjoyed. But that sense of peace quickly evaporated when she stepped into the living room.

Her parents were sitting together on the couch, the atmosphere tense. Her mom's arms were crossed, her eyes narrow, and her dad's jaw was clenched. It was immediately clear that something was off.

"Y/N," her mom began, her voice calm but filled with an edge, "We need to talk."

Y/N froze in the doorway, her stomach dropping. She'd been dreading this moment, but she hadn't expected it to come so soon. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. "What’s going on?"

Her dad's voice broke the silence. "We got a call today. About the cheerleading clinic. You didn't think we’d find out?"

Y/N’s chest tightened, and the weight of their disapproval pressed down on her. “I—I didn’t think it mattered,” she said quietly, trying to keep her emotions in check. “I’m not skating anymore. I want to try something different.”

Her mom's eyes flashed with frustration. "Different? You’re throwing away everything we’ve worked for all these years. All the time, all the money we’ve put into your ice skating career—this is how you repay us?"

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest. "I'm not throwing it away. I just—" She paused, taking a shaky breath. "I need a break. I need to do something that makes me happy. Something that’s not about competition or living up to expectations. I want to try cheerleading."

Her dad stood up, his voice rising in frustration. "You don't understand. You’re wasting your talent! You’re so close to everything we've been working for. You could be a champion, Y/N. And now you're just going to quit? After all the years we've invested? You can’t be serious."

Y/N's chest tightened even more, the pressure building as her parents' voices rang in her ears. She tried to stay calm, but the words her dad had just said stung, reminding her of the years she’d spent chasing something that had never really been hers to begin with.

"I can’t do this anymore," Y/N said, her voice shaking slightly but growing firmer with each word. "It’s not about being a champion. It’s about feeling like I’m actually living my life, not just living up to your dreams for me. I want something for myself, and that’s cheerleading. I know it might not make sense to you, but I can’t keep pretending skating is everything when it doesn’t make me happy anymore."

Her mom stood up, shaking her head in disbelief. "You don’t know what you’re doing. You’ll regret this. You’re just being emotional. You’ve always been so impulsive with your decisions."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “I’ve been thinking about this for months, and it’s not impulsive. I’m doing what’s best for me.”

The silence between them stretched out, thick with disappointment and anger. Y/N knew they wouldn’t understand. They had always pushed her to be the best, to win, to shine on the ice. But she had grown tired of being defined by other people’s expectations.

"You're being selfish, Y/N," her dad said, his voice softening, but the disappointment was still there. "All we've done for you... and now you're just walking away from it."

Y/N’s heart wavered for a moment, but she held her ground. "I’m not walking away from you. I’m just walking toward something that makes me feel alive. You can’t make me skate anymore. I’m not doing it for you or for anyone else. It’s my life, and I’m choosing to live it on my terms."

Her mom and dad exchanged a look, the silence in the room growing heavier. Finally, her mom sighed and dropped her arms. "You’ve always been stubborn. You won’t listen, will you?"

Y/N shook her head. “No. I won’t.”

Her dad let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the conversation had drained him. "Fine. But don’t expect us to support this. You’re on your own with this decision."

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat, but she didn’t flinch. "I know. I’m ready to be on my own. I’ll make it work."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and left the room, the heavy air following her every step. She needed space. She needed to breathe.

As she shut the door to her bedroom behind her, Y/N leaned against it, her chest tight and her mind racing. It hurt, it really did, to hear her parents' words. But the decision was hers, and she wasn’t going to let anyone make her doubt it.

She looked over at the cheer flyer on her desk, the bright colors calling to her again. This was where she needed to be. This was the step she had chosen, and no matter how hard it was, she was going to take it.

The next few days felt like a blur. Y/N’s mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—relief mixed with guilt, excitement mixed with uncertainty. Her parents’ words haunted her, despite the resolve she’d felt when she walked away from that conversation.

It was strange, living in the same house but feeling worlds apart from her parents. They barely spoke to her, their disappointment so palpable it weighed heavily in the air, even when they were in the same room. Every time she caught their gaze, they looked at her like she was a stranger.

But Y/N didn’t let it break her. She couldn’t. She couldn’t go back to the life they wanted for her, not when she had just found something that made her feel like herself again.

The cheerleading tryouts were just around the corner, and though she hadn’t fully shaken the tension at home, she threw herself into preparing for it. The clinic had given her a taste of what was to come, and she wanted more.

The following week, she attended the second cheer clinic with the same eagerness, determined to refine her skills. This time, she had a better grasp of the moves, and she pushed herself even harder. She felt her body growing stronger with every tumble, every flip, every lift. She wasn’t perfect, but she was getting there, and that was enough for her. The coaches seemed impressed with her progress, but Y/N was focused on the feeling she had every time she stepped onto that mat. It wasn’t about impressing anyone. It was about freedom.

“Y/N, you’re doing great!” Coach Minjae called out during a routine, his voice full of encouragement. “Keep that energy up. You’ve got what it takes.”

Those words from Coach Minjae gave her a renewed sense of purpose. It felt good to hear someone believe in her. It felt good to be seen for more than just her ability to perform on the ice.

As the days to tryouts dwindled down, Y/N knew her parents were still upset, but she had made her peace with it. They were stubborn, and so was she. She didn’t need their approval to do what made her happy. In fact, the more she thought about it, the clearer it became: if she stayed on the ice, she’d always be living under their expectations, under the weight of years of pressure. But if she took this leap—this leap into cheerleading—she would be doing it for herself. No one else.

The morning of the tryouts, Y/N woke up early, her heart pounding with nerves, but also with excitement. She stretched in her bedroom, mentally going through the moves she had practiced, running through the routine she’d put together in the past few days. She wasn’t sure if she’d make the team, but she knew she would give it everything she had.

Yunjin knocked on her door, her face bright with enthusiasm despite the early hour. "You ready for this?" she asked, grinning. "You’ve got this, I know it."

Y/N smiled back, taking a deep breath. "I think so. I’m ready."

As they arrived at the gym, the air was thick with anticipation. There were more girls than she expected, all of them looking as nervous and excited as she felt. Y/N tried to block out the thoughts of her parents’ disappointment and just focused on the task ahead. The pressure to succeed wasn’t coming from them anymore—it was coming from her. She wanted to prove to herself that she could do this.

The tryouts went by in a blur. She did everything she’d practiced—the toe touch, the hurdler, the front handspring, and the stunts. Her muscles burned from the effort, but she kept pushing herself, one move at a time, until she felt she had given her best.

When the tryouts ended, Coach Minjae gathered the girls together. "You all did a great job today," he said, his tone warm but firm. "We’ll be posting the results soon. But no matter what happens, I want you to know that each of you gave your best. That’s what matters."

Y/N waited with bated breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She was so nervous, so unsure of what the outcome would be, but at that moment, she felt a strange sense of calm. Even if she didn’t make the team, she knew she had taken the first step toward finding herself.

A few hours later, the list was posted on the bulletin board in the school’s hallway. Y/N walked toward it, her heart in her throat. She scanned the names, her fingers trembling as they traced each one until they landed on hers.

Her name was on the list. Not on JV, not on Frosh, but she was on VARSITY? 

She blinked, her eyes filling with tears before she could even process it. She had made the team. She had done it. It wasn’t just about cheerleading—it was about proving to herself that she could take control of her life. That she could make decisions for herself, regardless of what others thought.

Yunjin found her a few moments later, her arms wide open. "You did it!" she squealed, pulling Y/N into a hug. "I knew you would! You were amazing out there!"

Y/N hugged her back, overwhelmed by the sense of accomplishment. "I can’t believe it. I really did it."

And for the first time in so long, she allowed herself to believe in it too.

That night, when she returned home, Y/N wasn’t sure how to face her parents. They were still distant, still upset, but now that she had the victory of making the team, she felt stronger than ever.

When she walked into the living room, her dad barely looked up from his newspaper. Her mom was on her phone, but Y/N didn’t shy away. She stood there for a moment, gathering the courage she needed before speaking.

“I made the cheerleading team. I made the school’s Varsity team,” she said, her voice steady.

Her mom glanced up, her face unreadable. "I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Y/N."

Y/N stood tall, her shoulders back, and met her mom’s gaze. "Because I needed to do something for myself. I needed to find my own happiness. I know you don’t agree, but I’m not going to apologize for that."

Her dad finally set down his paper, looking at her with a mix of frustration and resignation. "I don’t get it, but I guess there’s nothing we can do to change your mind."

Y/N shook her head, but instead of feeling the weight of their disapproval, she felt a strange sense of peace. "No, you can’t. I’m going to make this work. You’ll see."

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt like she was finally walking her own path.

Y/N walked through the school’s front doors with her heart still thumping from the rush of excitement after making the cheerleading team. She had expected her parents’ disappointment, but she hadn’t expected the tight knot in her chest to linger this long. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for as she walked through the hallways—maybe just a little space to breathe, away from the weight of everything that had happened.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw him.

Sunghoon.

Of course, he was here, standing by his locker, surrounded by his friends who were laughing loudly, no doubt about something ridiculous he had said. But the moment his eyes landed on her, it was like the world narrowed to just the two of them.

There was that stupid grin.

“There’s my favorite cheerleader!” Sunghoon called out, loud enough for a few people to turn their heads in curiosity. His tone was teasing, laced with something else—something almost mocking.

Y/N’s stomach twisted. The words hit her in a way they hadn’t before. She hated how his teasing had always gotten under her skin, how it made her feel both irritated and strangely... seen. She didn’t need his approval, and yet, there was a small part of her that had always been desperate for it.

"Stop it," Y/N snapped, her eyes narrowing as she tried to keep her annoyance in check. She wasn’t going to let him win today. Not when she had finally taken control of her life, done something for herself. "You don’t even know what you’re talking about."

Sunghoon pushed off the lockers and started walking toward her, a slow, deliberate stride that made her stomach tighten even more. He wasn’t trying to provoke her in the usual way; there was something more behind this. He seemed... different today.

He stopped right in front of her, his grin softening, but only slightly. “I know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now, teasing but with an undertone of something far too sincere for her liking. “You’re going to make an amazing cheerleader. I’m proud of you.”

Y/N blinked, the words hitting her harder than she expected. Proud? Sunghoon, of all people, proud of her? She couldn’t help but scoff, but the frustration that usually bubbled up between them felt different today—fainter, almost like it was being drowned out by something she couldn’t name.

“You’re seriously not going to stop, are you?” she shot back, her voice sharp, but even she could hear the crack in it.

“Why would I?” he teased, crossing his arms. “This is huge for you, Y/N. You’ve been skating for so long, always trying to beat me, and now you’re doing something for yourself. I’m impressed.”

Her jaw tightened. Sunghoon had always been the one to make everything a competition—always comparing them, always fighting for the spotlight, whether it was on the ice or in their lives. His constant need to be the best had always rubbed her the wrong way, and yet... when he said things like that, things that sounded so genuine, it felt like a reminder of everything they had once been. Rivals. Equals. The tension between them had always been thick, and yet here he was, proud of her, as if the rivalry meant nothing to him.

“Stop pretending like you care,” she spat, her voice rising despite herself. “You’ve always had your way, Sunghoon. Don’t act like you care about what I do now.”

Sunghoon’s face didn’t flicker with the usual defensive arrogance. Instead, there was a quiet understanding in his eyes, one that Y/N didn’t quite know how to process. He took a small step closer, dropping his arms. “I care more than you think, Y/N.”

She froze. It wasn’t the words themselves that caught her off guard—it was the way he said them, the softness in his voice that was so unlike the usual banter. He had always pushed her to the limit, always seemed to relish in their rivalry, but now he was saying something completely different. His words felt like they were cutting through the walls she’d built between them.

“Why does it always have to be this way with you?” Y/N muttered, frustration creeping into her voice. "You act like you’re so proud of me, but you’ve been my biggest obstacle from the start. All you’ve ever done is make me feel like I wasn’t good enough.”

Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, his grin fading. “Is that what you think? That I’ve been trying to make you feel bad? You really don’t get it, do you?”

Y/N’s chest tightened as she looked up at him, struggling to keep her emotions from spilling over. She hated this. Hated how he had always been the person who pushed her the hardest, who seemed to always stand in her way. But in some twisted way, she had always needed him there, because his presence kept her grounded in a rivalry that was so familiar, it felt like home.

“You don’t get it either,” she muttered, her voice thick with something she didn’t want to admit. “You’ve always been everything I wasn’t—better on the ice, more focused, more... everything. And I’ve spent my whole life trying to beat you, to prove something to you and everyone else. But now I’m trying to do something for me, and you’re just messing with me.”

Sunghoon reached out, his hand coming to rest lightly on her arm, a rare tenderness in his touch. "I’m not messing with you, Y/N. I just... I just want you to know that you don’t have to prove anything to me anymore. I’ve always been proud of you. I was just too stupid to admit it."

Y/N blinked, feeling like the floor had just shifted beneath her feet. She didn’t know how to respond. Sunghoon had always been the one to push her buttons, to make her feel like she was in a constant battle to get his attention, but this... this was different.

“I don’t need your pity,” she finally said, her voice quieter now, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface.

“I’m not pitying you,” he said gently, looking down at her, his expression more serious than she’d ever seen it. "I’ve always respected you, Y/N. Maybe I’ve shown it in the wrong ways, but I do. And for what it’s worth... I’m proud of you. I know this is a big step. You don’t have to be afraid of it.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to collect herself. It was impossible to ignore how much his words were sinking in, how they made her feel exposed in a way she wasn’t ready for. She didn’t want to acknowledge how much she needed this from him, how much she secretly longed for him to say these things, even if it meant admitting that maybe the rivalry had always been more complicated than she wanted to believe.

“Whatever,” she muttered, stepping back from him, trying to reclaim her space, her walls. “I’m doing this for me. Not for you, not for anyone else.”

Sunghoon’s grin returned, though it was softer, almost like he understood the complexity of the situation better than she did. “I know. And that’s exactly why I’m proud of you.”

Y/N shook her head and turned to walk away, but she couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips, a smile that somehow only Sunghoon could coax out of her, no matter how much she hated to admit it.

It had been a whirlwind of a year, and now, standing in front of the school, Y/N couldn’t help but take it all in. Senior year had arrived, and with it, a wave of emotions—nervousness, excitement, anticipation. Not just about graduation or the impending college decisions, but the start of the cheerleading season. After months of dedication, practice, and pushing herself beyond limits, it was finally here. The rush of being part of something she loved, something she was proud of.

Cheerleading was a new chapter in her life, one that had brought her unexpected joy. She had always been good at skating, but this... this was her own thing. No pressure from her parents, no constant rivalry with Sunghoon. Just her, her team, and the excitement of starting something fresh. It felt freeing.

And then there was Sunghoon.

Their relationship had shifted in ways she hadn’t fully realized until now. They’d gone from rivals to friends to something more—a slow burn of understanding, shared glances, and late-night talks. The tension between them was still there, but it was different now. More comfortable. More affectionate. They spent weekends hanging out with their group of friends, but there were also moments where it was just the two of them. Conversations that didn’t have to be about cheer or skating, just about life. They laughed, they teased, and sometimes, they just sat in comfortable silence, a closeness that had built over time.

Y/N had always sworn she wouldn’t get involved with Sunghoon, but as the months went by, she found herself unable to ignore the undeniable pull between them. The way his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary. The way he supported her, not just as a teammate but as someone who genuinely cared. There were times when he would drop her off after practice, and their hands would brush, sending a spark of electricity through her veins. The touch would always linger just a second longer than normal, making her wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same way.

Today was no different. She had just finished getting ready for practice, pulling on her uniform with a small, satisfied smile. She felt confident. Cheer had become her escape, her place of belonging, and she loved every minute of it. With her college applications in, the future was uncertain, but she was ready for whatever came next.

As she walked out of the locker room, she saw Sunghoon leaning against the bleachers, a casual smirk on his face as he checked his phone. His presence, once a source of frustration, now felt like something familiar, something she looked forward to.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, glancing up at her with that trademark grin of his. But there was something different in his eyes—something warmer.

Y/N shot him a playful look. “Do you even have to ask? I’ve been ready since last year.”

“True,” he said, pushing off the bleachers and walking toward her. “I’m still amazed you chose cheer over skating. You’ve got the spirit, but... can you keep up with us?”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve got this. I’m flexible, I can stunt, I can do flips—you name it.”

His smile softened, and for a second, Y/N saw the familiar teasing glint in his eyes, but it was paired with something else—pride, maybe? “I’m still amazed,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time. “You’ve come a long way, Y/N.”

There was something in the way he said her name. It wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t sarcastic. It was just... her. And it made her heart do a funny little flip.

“You sound like you actually care,” she teased back, nudging him playfully.

“I do,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I’ve always cared.”

Y/N met his gaze, trying to keep her composure, but it was getting harder to ignore the way he made her feel. She wasn’t sure when things had changed between them, but now, with the closeness they shared, it was hard to separate her feelings from what they had. They were more than just teammates, more than just the awkward tension of rivals. They had become something else, something new. And maybe it wasn’t love yet, but it was something that felt just as powerful.

“You’ve been acting all proud of me lately,” Y/N teased, a slight blush creeping up her neck. “What’s up with that?”

Sunghoon’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his playful smirk returning, though there was something more vulnerable behind it. “I guess I’m just proud of how far you’ve come. You’ve worked your ass off, Y/N. And not just for this, but for everything.”

Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest. “I didn’t expect you to say that.”

Sunghoon shrugged, his grin widening as he tried to hide the faint color in his cheeks. “I don’t always say the right things, but... yeah. I’m proud. And I’m glad you’re here with us.”

Her heart fluttered, and for a second, the noise around them—the rest of the team gathering, the chatter, the clapping—faded. It was just the two of them, standing on the edge of something new. The rivalry was still there, but now it felt like it was slowly being replaced with something else. Something better.

“Well,” she said, clearing her throat, trying to break the tension, “I’m not here to be your favorite cheerleader, Sunghoon. I’m here to kick ass.”

Sunghoon chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and something more. “I’m not worried. You always kick ass.”

And there it was again—the way he looked at her, like there was something unspoken between them. Something that had been building ever since she made the decision to walk away from skating and take this leap into cheer. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to their relationship than she had ever allowed herself to believe.

“Alright, enough talking. Let’s go show them what we’ve got,” Y/N said, smiling brightly, trying to mask the fluttering in her chest.

Sunghoon gave her one last look, a soft smile curving on his lips, before nodding. “You’ve got this, Y/N.”

As they walked to the sidelines together, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that this year was going to be different. Not just because of cheerleading, but because of everything she had started to realize about herself—and about him.

The game was over, and the victory still hung in the air. The stands were filled with excitement, the sound of cheers and clapping echoing around the field. Y/N stood off to the side, quietly packing her cheer bag. She had given it her all tonight, and it felt amazing to be so connected with her team, the crowd, and the energy of the game. It was the first time in a long while she felt truly like herself—not weighed down by the pressures of ice skating, not caught in the web of family expectations. Tonight, cheerleading had been her release, her passion.

As she zipped up her bag, her thoughts drifted to Sunghoon. He’d been different lately. He’d been there for her in ways that went beyond their usual playful rivalry. She couldn’t help but feel a spark between them—a connection that she hadn’t been able to ignore, even if she’d tried. Maybe it was just her imagination, or maybe it was the thrill of the game, but she’d been hoping tonight would be different. After the game, they always hung out—grab food, catch up, talk about everything. Maybe tonight he’d say something. Something more than just the usual teasing.

Her heart fluttered at the thought.

She didn’t know why she was so desperate for something to change between them. Sunghoon had always been her rival, the person who had gotten under her skin since childhood. But now, as they had spent more time together, it was becoming clear to her that there was something more—something she wasn’t ready to admit but couldn’t quite deny.

She had always brushed it off as nothing. She had convinced herself that their connection was nothing but friendly competition. But tonight, after seeing him look at her differently, she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same.

With her gear packed away, she glanced around, looking for Sunghoon. She smiled to herself, knowing he’d be around here somewhere. Maybe he’d find her first, maybe not. But she couldn’t shake the thought that something was different tonight, something that might finally bring them closer together.

As she walked toward the edge of the field, searching for him, a movement caught her eye. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Sunghoon standing near the edge of the bleachers, but it wasn’t just Sunghoon. There was a girl with him. At first, Y/N didn’t recognize her, but something about the way they were standing together made her stomach drop.

Sunghoon had his arms wrapped around her, and they were standing so close. The girl had her arms around his neck, and their lips were locked in a kiss. A passionate, deep kiss.

Y/N’s heart stopped in her chest. She could feel the blood drain from her face, her entire body freezing in place as her mind scrambled to make sense of what she was seeing. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her hands trembled as she stood there, the world around her seeming to tilt and shift. The moment stretched on forever, each second torturing her more than the last.

As the girl pulled back from the kiss, Y/N saw her face clearly for the first time. Her heart dropped even further.

It was Chaewon.

Sunghoon’s ex-girlfriend.

Y/N had heard about Chaewon before—about how they had broken up a few months ago. Chaewon had always been a part of Sunghoon’s life, and despite their breakup, she had kept a lingering presence in his world. Y/N had always felt the tension whenever Chaewon was mentioned, but she never expected it to hit this close to home. She had always thought that once Sunghoon had moved on, things would be different. But now, seeing them together like this, it was clear that whatever was left between them wasn’t over.

Her throat tightened, her vision blurring with tears she tried to blink away. She wasn’t sure why it hurt so much—why seeing them together hit her like a wrecking ball. It wasn’t like she had any claim over Sunghoon, and yet, watching them made her feel like everything she had been working toward was meaningless. All her attempts to build a connection with him, to push past their rivalry and make something more, felt like they had been a waste.

The way they kissed—how natural, how familiar it looked—told Y/N everything she needed to know. There was no space between them. They were so comfortable with each other. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a moment of intimacy, something they had shared before and likely would again.

Y/N couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t make sense of the whirlwind of emotions crashing through her. Betrayal. Hurt. Regret. And something else... Something far more painful. She had been naive to think that things could be different. She had been foolish to believe that Sunghoon would see her as more than just a rival.

Without thinking, her feet moved on their own, carrying her away from the scene. Her body was moving mechanically, too stunned to process the pain in her chest. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She just had to get out of here.

She couldn’t stay and watch it any longer.

She needed to leave before the tears started falling, before the ache in her heart consumed her completely. As she rushed to the parking lot, she didn’t look back. She didn’t want to see them again. She didn’t want to confront the truth—that Sunghoon had never been hers to claim, and maybe, he never would be.

By the time she reached her car, her tears were already spilling over. She slammed the car door shut with more force than she intended, the sound of it echoing in the quiet parking lot. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything.

As she drove home, the streets blurred in front of her, the steady rhythm of her car tires on the pavement the only thing grounding her in reality. Her thoughts were a mess, a jumble of hurt, confusion, and disbelief.

When she reached her house, she didn’t even bother to turn off the engine. She just sat there for a moment, staring ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel. The tears flowed freely now, the pain too raw to hide.

She had been so stupid. So stupid for hoping. For thinking she could ever be something more to him than just a rival.

With a broken heart and no more strength to pretend, Y/N stumbled out of the car, heading straight to her room. She locked the door behind her, flopping onto her bed. The tears kept coming, but she didn’t try to stop them. Tonight had been a wake-up call, and as much as it hurt, she knew it was time to let go.

The days following the game felt like an endless blur. The victory was overshadowed by the weight of what Y/N had witnessed. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Sunghoon with Chaewon, their lips locked in a kiss so full of passion it tore through her. She tried to distract herself, to immerse herself in her cheerleading practices, but it was impossible to shake the image from her mind.

At school, she avoided Sunghoon. She wasn’t ready to face him—not after what had happened. She didn’t even want to acknowledge him in the halls. The thought of seeing him made her stomach churn. It wasn’t just the betrayal, but the fact that she had been so blind to it all. She had let herself believe that the rivalry, the teasing, even the moments where their gazes lingered just a bit longer than necessary, meant something more than what they were.

Her thoughts were consumed by what she had seen. She was devastated, angry at herself for letting her guard down, angry at him for leading her on. And then, there was the bitterness that had begun to seep into her heart. How could he just move on so easily? How could he kiss Chaewon, the girl he had supposedly broken up with months ago, and make it look so natural?

It felt like betrayal on every level. He hadn’t even said anything to her about it. No explanation. No warning. She had spent so much time focused on their growing closeness, convinced that something real was blooming between them, and it had all been for nothing.

Monday came, and with it, another school day. Y/N walked into the hallways with her head down, trying her best to ignore the whispers. She had heard people talk. Her teammates, classmates, even teachers. Everyone was buzzing about the cheer game, her flawless performance. But for her, it felt like the cheers and claps were just empty sounds. No matter how many times people told her she had been amazing, the words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

The hallway felt suffocating as Y/N stormed off after her heated exchange with Sunghoon. Her footsteps echoed against the lockers as she kept walking, refusing to look back. She could still feel the sting of what she’d seen—the kiss between Sunghoon and Chaewon—burning in her chest. It felt like the world was closing in on her, and she was desperate to escape the suffocating reality of it all.

But just as she thought she could distance herself, she heard his voice again.

"Y/N, wait!"

She froze mid-step, her heart racing as she turned slowly. He was standing a few feet away, his expression desperate, his eyes wide with a mixture of concern and frustration. His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced with something more vulnerable—something that made Y/N’s heart ache even more than it already did.

"I—" Sunghoon started, running a hand through his hair, his voice faltering. "I know you’re upset, but please, just let me explain. I never wanted you to see that. I never wanted you to think—"

"To think what, Sunghoon?" Y/N interrupted, her voice shaking with both anger and hurt. "That you were still in love with Chaewon? That you were going to just pick up where you left off with her? Is that it? Is that what I saw?"

He winced at her words, the pain in her voice hitting him harder than he expected. But he didn’t give up. He took a step forward, his gaze filled with sincerity, almost pleading.

"No, that’s not it at all," he said quickly. "It’s just... Y/N, please listen. What you saw was a mistake. A huge mistake. It wasn’t—"

"A mistake?" she repeated bitterly, her eyes flashing with disbelief. "You think that kiss was a mistake?"

He winced, the words clearly hurting him as much as they hurt her. He had never imagined that something like this would drive a wedge between them. "Yes," he said quietly, the weight of the word settling between them. "It was a mistake. A moment of weakness, a moment where I didn’t know what I was doing. But it doesn’t mean what you think it means. Chaewon and I... we had our history, but it was over. And I—"

"You kissed her," Y/N spat, her voice trembling. "How is that 'over'? How can you tell me that now, after everything, after all the time we’ve spent together, that it doesn’t mean anything?"

Sunghoon took another step toward her, his frustration building, but he kept his voice soft, trying to remain calm. He wasn’t ready to lose her—not after everything. Not when he was just beginning to realize how deeply he had felt for her all along.

"Y/N, listen to me," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know how to explain this, but you’ve got to know that I wasn’t thinking when I kissed her. It wasn’t because I want her back or because I still care about her in that way. It was... I don’t know, maybe it was just familiarity. But I don’t want her. I want you."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering against her chest. She stared at him, disbelieving, as the words she had always wanted to hear from him finally fell from his lips. But there was still a part of her that couldn’t trust it. She wasn’t sure she could ever fully trust him again after what she’d seen.

"Why now?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why are you saying this now, after everything? After the way you've treated me, after all those months of us pretending we were just rivals? Why does it matter now?"

Sunghoon's face softened, and he closed the distance between them, his eyes pleading with her to understand. "Because I was an idiot," he said, his voice rough. "I didn’t realize how much you meant to me until it was almost too late. I’ve been pushing you away, and I didn’t even know why. But I’ve been stupid, Y/N. You were always more than just a rival to me, more than just someone I wanted to beat. But I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought I had to stay in that stupid competition with you, that I had to keep up this stupid rivalry, and it kept me from seeing what was right in front of me."

Y/N’s heart twisted at his words. Part of her wanted to believe him—wanted to believe that all the moments they’d shared had meant something more. But the part of her that had been burned by his actions was reluctant to let go of the hurt.

"You’re telling me this now?" she asked, her voice cracking. "You’re telling me that after everything, after all the times you made me feel like I was nothing more than a challenge for you, that you actually care? That you’ve always cared?"

Sunghoon’s face fell, guilt and regret clouding his features. "I know I screwed up. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry. But it’s the truth. I care about you, Y/N. I always have. I just... I was too proud, too scared, to admit it. I was so caught up in the competition with you, in trying to win everything, that I didn’t realize that winning you, winning your heart, was the one thing I actually wanted."

Y/N felt her heart ache at his words. She wanted to say something, anything to make the pain stop, but her emotions were all over the place. She had wanted this. She had wanted him to confess, to tell her that she wasn’t just the girl he fought against, but someone he actually cared for. But hearing it now—after everything, after the kiss with Chaewon—it didn’t feel like enough.

"You can’t just erase what you did," she said quietly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You can’t just tell me it was a mistake and expect me to forget the way it made me feel."

"I know," Sunghoon said softly, his voice full of regret. "And I wouldn’t ask you to. But I’m asking you to let me make it right. Please. You mean so much more to me than anything else. I’ve been an idiot, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that you’re the one I want. Please, Y/N, don’t shut me out. Let me show you how much you really mean to me."

Y/N stood there, her chest tight with conflicting emotions. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to forgive him, to take a leap of faith and trust that he wasn’t lying. But a part of her still held onto the hurt, the pain of seeing him with someone else, so easily slipping back into his past. It wasn’t something she could just erase.

"I need time, Sunghoon," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I need time to figure this out. I don’t know if I can just forget everything, even if I want to."

He nodded, his eyes filled with pain and understanding. "I’ll wait, Y/N. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But please know that I’m not giving up on you. I care about you more than you know."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart a mix of emotions she couldn’t fully process. The words were there, but the pain lingered, and she didn’t know if she could ever truly forgive him. But she also knew that something between them had shifted—that maybe, just maybe, Sunghoon was ready to be the person she needed him to be.

But for now, all she could do was walk away and try to figure out what she really wanted from this complicated mess they’d created.

It had been a week since the confrontation. A week since Y/N had given Sunghoon the space he had begged for. The days had passed in a haze, with her emotions swirling between confusion, bitterness, and—if she was being honest with herself—hope. She had spent the first few days in silence, avoiding Sunghoon, keeping herself busy with cheerleading practice and her schoolwork.

But deep down, she couldn’t ignore the pull. Sunghoon had always been a part of her life, a constant. Even during their rivalry, there had been a connection—something more than just competition. And now that the veil had been pulled back, she saw it all more clearly. But she wasn’t sure if she was ready to forgive him, not completely.

It was another practice session at school, the sun beginning to set outside as Y/N and her cheer squad went through their routines. The atmosphere was full of energy as they prepared for the next game, but for Y/N, her focus was elsewhere. Every flip, every jump, felt like she was doing it to distract herself from the thoughts of Sunghoon.

She landed a perfect high kick, but the applause of her teammates felt distant. Her mind wandered back to him—his words, his confession. "I care about you more than you know." He’d said that, and yet she hadn’t heard from him since their last talk. There had been no texts, no attempts to check in. It was as though he was giving her the space she needed… but was it enough?

Just as the session was winding down, Y/N gathered her things and headed toward the locker room. She was just about to step inside when she heard someone call her name.

"Y/N."

Her breath caught, and she froze. She turned slowly, heart thudding in her chest.

There, standing by the gym doors, was Sunghoon. His usual cocky grin was replaced by a serious, almost vulnerable expression. The sight of him pulled something deep inside her—anger, hope, frustration—all at once.

"I… I’ve been waiting for you to talk to me," he said quietly, his hands in his pockets. "I know you need time, but I can’t just pretend like everything’s fine. I’ve been thinking about what I said—about what happened—and I know I messed up. I know I hurt you."

Y/N took a deep breath. She had been avoiding him, afraid of what seeing him would bring up. But now, faced with him again, it was harder than she’d imagined.

"I don’t know if you can fix this," Y/N said, her voice steady but tinged with pain. "I don’t know if I can just forgive you, Sunghoon. It’s not that simple. You hurt me. And you made me believe that what we had… that it was real. Only to see you with Chaewon. It felt like everything we had was a lie."

Sunghoon’s face tightened with guilt. "I never meant for you to feel that way. You’re not a lie. None of this was a lie. I’ve been a fool for a long time, letting this rivalry between us get in the way of what really matters. I didn’t want to admit it, but what we have—it’s different. And I’ve been trying so hard to make sense of everything, and I think I’ve finally realized that I’m not just fighting with you. I’m fighting for you. I always have been."

Y/N swallowed, her heart aching with the raw honesty in his voice. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to believe it, but she couldn’t ignore the sincerity in his eyes. The same eyes that had watched her with a mix of admiration and rivalry for so long.

"You’re not just a competition to me anymore, Y/N," Sunghoon continued, his voice softer now. "I’m not asking you to forgive me right away. But I need you to know that I’ve been thinking about you, about what I want, and I want to be with you. Not as rivals. Not as something fleeting. I want this to be real."

It took time. More time than either of them expected, but slowly, Sunghoon and Y/N started to rebuild what they had. It wasn’t easy. There were moments when Y/N would catch herself pulling away, moments when she would doubt if she could truly trust him again. But Sunghoon was patient. He didn’t push her for more than she was ready to give, and he showed up for her—at every game, at every practice, supporting her like he always should have. He was there, proving his commitment through his actions, not just his words.

One afternoon, after a long cheer practice, Y/N sat down on the bleachers, exhausted but satisfied with the day’s progress. She was still thinking about the conversation they’d had earlier in the week, when Sunghoon had told her he was trying to be better, trying to show her that he wasn’t the guy who had kissed Chaewon.

"Hey."

She looked up to see him walking toward her, his smile warm but his expression serious.

"Hey," she replied softly, her heart fluttering just a little.

"I know this is a lot to ask, but…" He hesitated, his usual confidence wavering for a moment. "Do you want to hang out? I’ve been meaning to take you somewhere—something special. I want to make it up to you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Something special, huh?"

Sunghoon smiled, a little sheepish but genuine. "Yeah. We don’t have to talk about everything, and we don’t have to rush into anything, but… I just want you to know how much you mean to me."

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and a part of her—the part that had always cared about him—softened. Maybe this could work. Maybe they didn’t have to rush into a perfect relationship, but they could take the time to rebuild something real. Maybe she was ready to let go of the past and trust him again.

"Alright," she said, standing up slowly. "Show me what you’ve got, Sunghoon."

He grinned, relieved, and extended his hand to her. She took it, feeling a strange sense of peace settle in her chest. This wasn’t going to be easy. But maybe they could make it work, one step at a time.

As they walked together, Y/N realized something. There was no perfect ending. There was no clear answer to what they would be in the future. But there was the chance for a new beginning. A chance to rewrite the story, to make their own path, without the rivalry, without the games.

Just the two of them.

And that was all she needed for now.

The following weekend, Sunghoon picked Y/N up in his car, the nervous energy between them palpable. She had agreed to go with him, though there was still a cautiousness in her heart—an echo of the pain she felt from everything that had happened between them. But as soon as she slid into the passenger seat, the familiar scent of his cologne and the soft hum of the car made something stir within her. It was like the past few weeks hadn’t happened, like they were just two friends hanging out again.

"Where are we going?" Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued as she buckled her seatbelt.

"It’s a surprise," Sunghoon said, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he glanced at her, then quickly returned his attention to the road. "But trust me, you’ll like it."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. "You’re full of surprises lately."

He laughed, the sound light and genuine, and for the first time in a while, Y/N felt something akin to ease in his presence. It was nice to be in a space where there was no tension, no expectations. Just them, figuring it out as they went.

They drove for a while, the city passing by in a blur. Eventually, Sunghoon pulled into a parking lot near the edge of town, next to a small, cozy café with string lights twinkling outside. The atmosphere was quiet and relaxed, completely different from the usual hustle and bustle of their lives. It was almost like he’d chosen this place for its peaceful energy—a place where they could both just breathe.

Sunghoon turned off the engine and glanced over at Y/N, his expression more vulnerable than she was used to seeing.

"Here we are," he said softly, smiling nervously. "I thought we could have some time to just… talk, away from everything."

Y/N didn’t say anything right away. She just looked at him, studying the sincerity in his eyes. There was something so different about him now—a rawness, an openness that made her want to give him this chance, despite everything that had happened.

"Okay," she finally said, giving him a small smile. "I’m in."

The café was a small, intimate place, with walls lined with bookshelves and an earthy, rustic feel. The faint smell of fresh coffee and pastries filled the air, and the soft music playing in the background created a warm, inviting atmosphere. They sat by a window, the light of the late afternoon spilling across the wooden table, casting soft shadows around them.

As they ordered their drinks—Y/N opting for a chai latte and Sunghoon going for his usual black coffee—they sat in silence for a moment, both unsure of where to start. Y/N fiddled with the edge of her cup, her fingers nervously tracing the rim. She wasn’t sure what to say, what to feel. This was the first time they’d been alone together like this since everything had happened.

"I guess we should start by... apologizing," Sunghoon said, breaking the silence. He sounded hesitant, unsure of what would make things right. "I really messed up, Y/N. I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but I’m sorry. I hurt you, and I shouldn’t have."

Y/N nodded slowly, her eyes focused on her drink as she took a sip. The warmth of the chai settled in her chest, but it didn’t ease the ache she still carried. "You did," she said softly, her voice steady but still tinged with the lingering hurt. "But… I know it wasn’t easy for you either. I get that you were confused. I just… I don’t know if I can just forgive and forget that quickly."

Sunghoon leaned forward slightly, his gaze intense but gentle. "I don’t expect you to. I just need you to know that I’m trying, Y/N. I really want to make this right. I’m not asking you to rush into anything. I just want a chance to show you that I’m not the same guy I was before."

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, reading the honesty in his eyes, feeling the weight of his words. It wasn’t the confession she had imagined in her head—there were no grand gestures or promises. But it felt real. And for the first time in a long while, she thought maybe—just maybe—they could rebuild something.

After a long pause, Y/N exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. "I think… I think I can start trusting you again. But it’s going to take time. I need you to show me that you really mean it."

Sunghoon’s face lit up with a quiet, relieved smile. "I can do that. I’ll show you. I’ll prove it to you, Y/N."

After finishing their drinks, they decided to take a walk through the nearby park. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue across the trees and paths. The air was crisp, and the autumn leaves crunched beneath their feet as they walked side by side, not talking much, but simply enjoying each other's presence.

It felt easy, in a way. Natural, almost. Like they were falling back into a rhythm they’d once had, before everything had gotten complicated.

"You know," Sunghoon said after a while, breaking the silence, "I’ve missed this. Just hanging out, without all the stress."

Y/N glanced at him, surprised. "Missed what?"

"This," he said, gesturing between them with a small smile. "Just talking. Having fun. It didn’t always have to be about competition, did it?"

Y/N smiled slightly, a soft laugh escaping her. "No, I guess not."

They stopped walking by a bench, where Sunghoon motioned for them to sit. They sat down, a comfortable silence falling between them once again.

"Y/N, I’ve been thinking a lot about everything we’ve been through," Sunghoon continued, his voice more serious now. "And I just… I want you to know that I’m done with pretending. I’m done with the games. I don’t care about the titles, the trophies, or the rivalry anymore. All I care about is you."

Y/N felt a flutter in her chest at his words. She couldn’t deny it any longer—the pull toward him, the way he made her feel like she was the only person in the world that mattered. It was confusing, but in this quiet moment, with the sun setting around them, it felt right. She wanted to let go of the past, wanted to take a leap of faith.

"Maybe we can take it slow," Y/N said, her voice soft but sure. "No rushing, no expectations. Just… us."

Sunghoon smiled, a real smile this time, full of warmth and hope. "Slow sounds perfect."

They sat there, side by side, in the fading light, not needing words to fill the space. Everything felt different now—more real, more honest. The future wasn’t perfect, but for the first time, Y/N felt like they were headed in the right direction. Together.

As the weeks passed, Y/N and Sunghoon found themselves slipping into a new rhythm. The tension that had once lingered between them seemed to dissipate, replaced by something more comfortable, more genuine. Their interactions, once laced with rivalry and unspoken feelings, were now filled with easy laughter, quiet moments, and a growing sense of partnership. They had started to spend more time together outside of school and practice, and every little interaction—whether it was a shared lunch or a quiet walk through the park—seemed to stitch the torn fabric of their relationship back together.

Y/N found herself thinking about him more often. She thought about his grin, the way he made her feel like she was capable of anything, even when her doubts crept in. She thought about how he had apologized, how he had tried to show her that he was truly sorry. Slowly, but surely, her walls started to come down. She was letting him back in. She wanted to.

As cheer season continued, Y/N’s confidence began to grow. Her skills on the mat were improving, and with every cheer routine she perfected, her pride in herself swelled. Sunghoon, always the ever-supportive figure, attended every game, sitting in the stands with his friends, cheering louder for her than anyone else. His presence in the crowd always gave her a sense of calm, like she wasn’t performing for the crowd but for him, the person who saw her as more than just a rival, more than just a cheerleader.

One evening, after a particularly intense practice, Y/N was on her way to the locker room when she spotted Sunghoon waiting by the gym doors. His face broke into a grin when he saw her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

"Another perfect routine," he said with admiration, falling into step beside her as they walked down the hallway together. "You’re amazing, Y/N."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shook her head. "I still have so much to work on, but… thank you. You’ve been such a huge support. I don’t know if I could’ve made it this far without you."

Sunghoon smiled, nudging her shoulder playfully. "Well, you know I’m always here to push you to be your best." Then, he turned serious for a moment, his expression softening. "And I’m really proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you, Y/N."

The sincerity in his voice made her heart flutter, and she found herself gazing at him a little longer than usual. It wasn’t just admiration anymore. There was something deeper in his words, something that made her chest tighten with affection.

"Thanks, Sunghoon," she whispered, before looking away to hide the flush creeping up her neck. "I’m proud of you too."

One of the more unexpected parts of their developing relationship was how easy it was to just be with Sunghoon. They didn’t always need to do something exciting or extravagant. Sometimes, just being in each other’s presence was enough.

One night, after a long week of school and practice, Sunghoon invited Y/N over to his place. He promised it would be low-key, just a quiet night in—no expectations, no pressure. Y/N had agreed, and when she arrived at his house, she found him in his living room, lounging on the couch, holding two mugs of hot chocolate.

"I hope you’re not expecting a fancy dinner," he said, offering her one of the mugs with a teasing smile. "I’m not that good at cooking."

Y/N laughed as she took the mug, feeling the warmth seep into her fingers. "This is perfect," she said, sinking into the couch beside him. "It’s been a crazy week."

They spent the next few hours talking, sharing stories, and watching a random movie on TV. There was something effortlessly comfortable about the way they interacted now—no forced conversation, no awkward silences. They just existed together in a way that felt natural, like this was always meant to be.

At one point, they both found themselves leaning against each other, the weight of the day melting away. Sunghoon’s arm casually draped over the back of the couch, his hand just inches from hers. The proximity made her heart flutter, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let herself enjoy the moment, letting the warmth between them settle.

When the movie ended, Sunghoon turned to her, his eyes soft but searching. "I know we’re not rushing into anything, but I just… I really want you to know that I care about you. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone."

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. She hadn’t expected him to say something so open, so vulnerable. Her heart raced, but this time it wasn’t from uncertainty. It was from something much more comforting—certainty.

"I care about you too, Sunghoon," she said, her voice steady but full of feeling. "More than I thought I would. And I’m… I’m glad we’re doing this. I think we’re finally getting it right."

Sunghoon smiled softly, his hand finally reaching for hers. Their fingers brushed, then intertwined, and for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt a sense of peace. This wasn’t perfect, and they still had a lot to work through, but they were doing it together. And that made all the difference.

It was a few weeks later, during a late-night practice for an upcoming cheer event. The team was exhausted, but their spirits were high. The season had been going well, and everyone was looking forward to the next big game. After practice, Y/N and Sunghoon found themselves alone in the gym, tying up loose ends and catching up.

"You’re really good at this," Sunghoon said, leaning against the wall as he watched her pack her bag. "I mean, I knew you were talented, but seeing you in action, it’s… it’s impressive."

Y/N smiled, zipping up her bag. "Thanks, Sunghoon. I’ve been practicing a lot."

There was a pause as she turned to him, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before she looked away, her cheeks flushing. The chemistry between them had been undeniable for weeks now, but neither of them had made the first move. They had danced around it, unsure of how to bridge the gap between friends and something more.

Sunghoon, sensing the tension, stepped closer to her, his heart racing. "Y/N," he said, his voice low, "I’ve been wanting to do this for a while."

She looked up at him, their faces inches apart now. The world outside the gym seemed to fade away as he leaned in slowly, his breath mingling with hers. "What if we just… don’t wait anymore?"

Before she could respond, Sunghoon kissed her—a gentle, tentative kiss at first, but one that deepened quickly as they both leaned into it. It was everything she had hoped for, and more. A slow-burning kiss that spoke of all the feelings they’d kept hidden for so long.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads pressed together, and Sunghoon’s voice was soft as he whispered, "I’m so glad we’re doing this."

Y/N smiled, a sense of contentment filling her chest. "Me too."

And for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. With him.

The air was crisp, and the stadium lights illuminated the field as the last football game of the season kicked off. It was Senior Night, and Y/N could hardly believe how quickly the time had passed. Her heart swelled with pride as she stood on the sidelines in her cheer uniform, the crowd roaring with excitement behind her. This was it—the culmination of everything she had worked for in the cheerleading world. Her last game as a cheerleader. Her final performance under the bright lights.

She had spent years perfecting every routine, every move, and now, as she stood on the field, surrounded by her teammates, she could finally take it all in. The cheers, the adrenaline, the feeling of unity—it was everything she had dreamed of when she first joined the squad.

Y/N glanced over at the football team, watching the players huddling together as they prepared for the next play. Her eyes searched for Sunghoon, who was among them, focused and ready to take the field. Their eyes met for a brief moment across the distance, and he gave her a subtle but loving wink. A smile immediately tugged at her lips.

He’s always been there for me, she thought, her heart swelling with affection. After everything they’d been through, this moment felt perfect. He had become so much more than just the guy she once competed against. He was her teammate in a different way now, someone who stood by her side in the quiet moments and the loud ones.

As the game continued, Y/N’s cheer squad took their places, moving into position for the halftime performance. Her body was on autopilot now, moving through the routine with the precision she’d honed over the years. But even in the midst of the complicated stunts and routines, her mind couldn’t help but wander back to Sunghoon. Every time she locked eyes with him from across the field, there was a flicker of something between them—a spark of connection that made her heart race in the best way.

The cheerleaders executed their routines flawlessly, the crowd roaring with excitement. Y/N’s smile was bright, her energy contagious, as she nailed each move. There was no mistaking it—this was her night. She was living her dream, and she was doing it with a sense of ease she had never known before. And it felt like Sunghoon was right there beside her, not just physically, but emotionally, too. He had always been her competitor, but now, he was her support system, her person.

During the brief breaks in between routines, when the cheerleaders rushed to hydrate or fix their hair, Y/N couldn’t resist sneaking glances at Sunghoon. He was always nearby, his attention never straying far from her. And each time their eyes met, it was like a silent agreement passed between them. No words, just understanding.

In the chaos of the halftime festivities, when everyone was distracted by the excitement of the game, Sunghoon took his chance. He caught up with Y/N near the locker rooms, his face lighting up as he saw her standing alone, her breath quick from the performance.

"Hey angel," he said softly, his hand brushing against hers as he stepped closer. "You were amazing out there."

"Thanks," Y/N replied, her heart fluttering at his proximity. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body, the comfort of his presence in the midst of the chaotic night.

Before she could say anything else, Sunghoon leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a quick, sweet kiss. It was brief, but full of meaning—an unspoken acknowledgment of how far they’d come, how much they had shared. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she pulled away slightly, her lips curling into a grin.

"You’re distracting me," she teased, her voice soft but playful.

Sunghoon chuckled, his gaze never leaving hers. "I’ll be more distracting later. I promise." He winked, then gave her hand a gentle squeeze before stepping back to give her space.

It was moments like this that made Y/N feel like everything was finally falling into place. The chaos of the game, the lights, the pressure—it all melted away when she was with him.

As the game neared its end, Y/N could feel the excitement building. It was a tight game, but her team was winning. The energy in the stadium was electric, and Y/N’s heart raced with each cheer she led, each chant she screamed. The crowd’s energy was contagious, but nothing compared to the feeling of having Sunghoon watching from the sidelines, cheering her on like he always had.

And then, as the final seconds ticked down and the whistle blew to signify the victory, the cheerleaders took their last position of the night. Y/N’s eyes immediately found Sunghoon’s, his smile wide and proud as he stood with his teammates, their arms around each other in celebration.

The cheerleaders had finished their routine, and they were all celebrating, laughing and hugging. But before Y/N could join her teammates, Sunghoon was already by her side, pulling her into a tight hug.

"You did it," he whispered into her ear, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m so proud of you, Y/N."

Y/N closed her eyes, her heart swelling with a mix of happiness and relief. "We did it," she said softly, pulling back slightly to look at him. "I couldn’t have done it without you."

Sunghoon smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We make a pretty good team, huh?"

Y/N laughed, her fingers grazing his cheek as she nodded. "The best team."

As the crowd cheered and her teammates surrounded her, Y/N felt like she was standing at the pinnacle of something important. The night was perfect, the game was won, and for the first time, she wasn’t just proud of her accomplishments. She was proud of how far she had come, and of the person she was becoming—with Sunghoon by her side.

And in that moment, she realized: it wasn’t just the victory that made this night unforgettable. It was the journey that had led her here—the friendships, the growth, and the love she had finally allowed herself to feel. 

As she started packing her things on the sideline, a warm, content smile spread across her face. Her team was still buzzing with excitement, and she felt a deep sense of belonging. She was where she was supposed to be.

But then, she noticed something odd.

She looked around to find that the crowd—well, the few people still lingering—had their phones out, pointed at her. She raised an eyebrow, confused knitting her brows. What was going on?

Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes swept across the field, trying to make sense of the situation. And that’s when she saw it.

There, in the middle of the field, stood Sunghoon. He wasn’t just standing there, though—he was holding a large, hand-painted sign that made Y/N’s breath catch in her throat. The sign read:

“I’d love to skate into your heart. Will you be my girlfriend?”

She gasped, her hand faltering as she held her bag. The words were like a punch to the gut—one full of excitement, surprise, and something that felt too big to fully comprehend in that moment. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest, the realization slowly sinking in. The sign, the words, the fact that Sunghoon—her rival, her friend, the person who had always pushed her buttons in all the wrong ways—was standing there, asking her to be his girlfriend.

Her mouth went dry, her eyes darting to the faces around her, all waiting for her reaction. The noise of the crowd around her seemed to fade away, and all she could focus on was Sunghoon, standing there, his usual teasing grin replaced with something a little more serious, a little more vulnerable.

She had known him for years, and she had seen him be cocky, confident, and sometimes even a little arrogant, but this... this was different. There was no smirk, no playful edge to his eyes. This was Sunghoon, laying his heart on the line, exposing himself in a way she hadn’t expected.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Y/N blinked and then, before she even realized it, she was moving. Her legs felt like they were moving on their own, carrying her toward him without any real thought. As she got closer, she could see the faint pink tint on Sunghoon’s cheeks, and it made her smile—a smile that she couldn’t control. The walls she’d built between them, the rivalry, the hurt, it all seemed to disappear with each step.

He was waiting for her, and when their eyes met, his smile widened just a fraction, though he still seemed to be holding his breath, unsure of her response.

The moment stretched on, the world slowing down around them. Y/N didn’t know what to say at first. She wanted to laugh, to shout, to tell him this was all insane... but all that came out was a breathless, “Sunghoon… what the hell?”

His smile faltered for a moment, and he quickly tried to recover. “I know it’s a little... dramatic, but I figured it was time to stop pretending,” he said, his voice teasing, but there was a nervousness in it too. He shifted his weight, as though unsure of what to do with his hands, before letting the sign dangle a little lower. “I’ve been holding this in for too long. Just... I don’t know. I had to ask.”

Y/N’s heart raced. She couldn’t deny how the words made her feel—like a wave of warmth and excitement washing over her. She had spent so long fighting her feelings for Sunghoon, pushing him away, telling herself she didn’t need this, didn’t need him. But now, standing here in front of him, with that sign, with everything that had led up to this moment, she realized it wasn’t something she could run from anymore.

She wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to say, how she could even begin to process this. Her mind was a blur of thoughts—of their history, of the rivalry that had always been there, of the way they’d grown closer in ways she hadn’t expected. But more than anything, she knew she couldn’t ignore the way she felt about him.

“Sunghoon…” she began, her voice soft. The crowd was still watching, waiting, but she didn’t care. This was just between them, no one else. “You’re serious?”

He nodded, the smile returning to his face, though now it was more hopeful, a little vulnerable. “More serious than I’ve ever been.”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling the weight of everything crash down on her. This was it—the moment she had spent so long avoiding. She didn’t know where it would lead, or how things would turn out. But as she looked at him, standing there, waiting for her answer, she realized she couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Yes,” she whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Sunghoon’s face lit up, his eyes sparkling with joy, and he took a step closer, lowering the sign in his hands and pulling her into a hug. Y/N laughed as she was enveloped in his arms, feeling a rush of emotions she couldn’t quite describe. He squeezed her tight, and for a moment, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.

As the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of something new. Something unexpected. But for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

AND THATS A WRAP!!

© luvoooenha on tumblr 2025. please don’t copy, repost, or translate my works! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :)

[mejaemin]

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(not) like a flower - yoon jeonghan

wc: 0.8k summary: jeonghan will always be there, through the life and death of flowers and your earliest memories warnings: sadness, crying, hurt/comfort? fluff, rewrite of a rlly old fic (im deleting the og version) an: missing jeonghan hours r at an all time high rn ☹️

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the living room floor should have caution signs all around it with all the lego pieces spread on the floor. you’re building your most recent gift, the orchid lego set, with your boyfriend. it’s been a while since the date you went on where he gifted it to you, many more happening since then, but you held off on building it until the perfect moment where you were in a lego building mood. it’s even more perfect because you could invite him over to do it with you.

soft music plays in the background, but it isn’t even needed because the sound of lego pieces being sifted through and jeonghan’s subtle humming was enough to keep you calm. honestly, all you needed was for him to be there, and it didn’t matter if you had background noise or anything else.

his side is warm against yours, sitting as close to each other as possible while working. you’re sure he knows, but you typically only build your lego sets when there’s something heavy on your mind. that’s probably why he wasted no time coming over, knowing that as soon as you asked to build this with him, you needed him over anything else. of course, that’s exactly what he’s here for, to just stick by you, asking no questions but keeping physical contact with you just how you like it.

after finishing the bag that held stems and leaves, you stopped jeonghan’s wrist from opening the next one. “wait.” you called out.

he looks up, an eyebrow raised. “what?”

“..do you think we could stop here? pick it up another time?” your hand falls back into your lap, fidgeting with the other.

“what, why? there’s only one bag left, why don’t we just finish it?”

you purse your lips together, trying to find the words. “i just.. everything’s moving too fast. and i don’t want to finish this, because there’s good thoughts and memories attached to it.. and if i finish it, i feel like they’re going away.” your voice is barely above a mumble, feeling shy and almost silly for feeling such a way.

at your confession, jeonghan smiles, wrapping am arm around your midsection to help pull you into his lap. his arms are tight, warm and secure around your waist, and he presses a kiss to the crown of your head before speaking.

“baby, don’t be sad about such things. this is a happy moment. y’know how i see it?” he turns his head to look at you, smiling softly.

his look is so soft, genuine and full of love and sweetness. that tender expression he gives only to you is what makes you feel this way. just like the process of building a lego set, moments like these could be fleeting, eventually being nothing but a distant memory. you hope it doesn’t end up like that, but that fear is what makes you so upset over it.

you’re so grateful for jeonghan’s presence in your life. he always knows what you need, and this is the exact reason why you called him over. the way he looks at you and immediately knows what you need to hear is nothing if not a reminder that you’re meant to be.

“i see it as a sign of moving forward. a good one. remember when we got this? we had so much fun that day, and here we are, weeks later, finally finishing something of the past so we can move forward. together, okay?” he turns to face you fully, holding your cheeks in his hands before kissing your forehead. since you’ve met, it’s been a habit for him to do so, not without baby talking you of course.

“i’m not going anywhere, love, i promise. moments like these may come and go, but who you’re with will always stay the same.” he peppers a few more kisses over your face, and one long, meaningful one to your lips. you can feel how loving it is with the gentle, sweet way his lips hover over your own.

“this is why i don’t get you real flowers, hm? imagine how sad you’d be when they die?” he chuckles, “thankfully though, these will stay forever. me too, okay?”

at the end of his speech, it’s nearly impossible to hide your tears. jeonghan’s always so silly and playful, but he’s so in tune with your thoughts. he always knows when to get serious, and he’s so good at it too. he knows all the right words, everything you need to hear, his sweet voice sweeping away any negative thoughts you ever had. with your head now pulled into his chest, the tears flow freely and all you can think is how thankful you are for him. you can’t fully let go of that fear, but your hope that he’ll always stay, unlike a flower, or any material thing, is growing stronger.

jeonghan pulls you back from his chest, smiling once again as he kisses away the remnants of your tears. “now, let’s finish this up, ‘kay?”

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svt 🏷️ @coquettejunnie

[just-some-random-blogger]

cRISTI YOU GET ME SO WELL GOSHHHH

YOURE SO ON POINT WITH CARAXES. HE DOESNT WANT TO BE ABANDONED FR FR although I can argue he's been in the pits for a WHILE so he's not really being abandoned with strangers. I remember when I left my cat in the vet, he looked so sad fr ): also I hope your doggy isn't sick ))): so many cuddles for your doggy. And ur so right both Caraxes and YN will now suffer

THAT BEING SAID I'm so SOOOO happy you see that he's a controlling person!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹 BESTIIEEEEEEEE 😩✊ ughhh you just get me, we like dis 🤞. I feel like he's trying though you know!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He's tryinggggg. I'm not tryna defend him because whatever anyone feels about him, esp you (cos you got braincells), is entirely valid, but he's trying 😔🤪😋🤣

OHHH AND ABOUT THE LINE YOU QUOTED!!! Its interesting how it read to you as jealous. I see it!! You're so right. For me when I was writing it though, it was more like an epiphany, like catharsis. Like if you remember the scene where (I believe it was) erryk seeing her have fun in the lake and hes like

Its like that for daemon. He's seeing her as her for the first time WHICH IS KIND OF INSANE THAT IT TOOK HIM THIS LONG LIKE WTF HE LOVES HER N SHIT BUT ONLY NOW HAS HE SEEN BE WHO SHE WOULD BE WITHOUT HER ILLNESS CONTROLLING HER💀💀💀✋✋ crAZYY

AND YEAH YOU'RE SO RIGHT I DO PUT IN THE EFFORT OF MAKING MY FICS REALISTIC WHICH IS WHY I END UP MAKING SUCH SLOWEWWWWWWWWW SLOWWWWWWW SLOWWW SLSOWWWWWW BURN 😭😭😭 CRISTI SAVE ME IM LOW KEY SICK OF THIS FIC I WANT IT TO END MY BRAIN WANTS ME TO RUN TO THE FINISHLINE

He is in love, but he is still Daemon. It's why I feel this line works so well.

THATS WONDERFUL I LOVE THAT FOR ME PLEASEEE KISS ME I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

HAHAHAHAHH OTTO HAHAAH TRUE HE IS INSECURE AND PETTY. I needed him to instigate some shit because I love him but he's a power hungry man and he lost his hold on his daughter... He is NOT happy. He's just deeeeeeply controlling RINGING ANY BELLS AHAHHAHAH

Like I've said once before Otto and daemon are foils in this, they like dis 🤞. Idk about the whole arc you made for Otto, it seems feasible but i don't really plan on giving him much more backstory but yeah if you wanna think that 👍 purr ur so right and I support you.

And yesss!! We will see a bit of daemon in essos but 🙃 not much cos he better get his ass back to westeros. I literally only put him in essos for one (1) v minor plot reason so he'll be back very soon or else someone dies 🔪

I would love if my girl didn't write to him, it's the petty thing I would do, just to make him stew. She is lovely and kind, so I doubt it, but maybe? Pretty please?

😋😋😋😋😋😋 LIKE I SAID WE LIKE DIS 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞 UNFORTUNATELY I AM MUCH WORSEEEE SO I HOPE YOU LIKE WHAT I HAVE IN STOREEEE you might hate it tho HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHH I LOVE YOU CRISTI THIS WAS WONDERFUL I DEMAND TO BE KISSED BY YOU ACTUALLY NO I BEGETH THEEE

Tormented Spirit | 19

Part 1 [...] 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, emotional constipation, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: it's been a while, so i'd like to acknowledge this ask, the lovely comments i got from it, and this ask, because they were really sweet and really motivated me to finish this. the chapter feels a bit aimless because its a filler chapter, so i would love to know how you all feel about it. if i find people are not very interested, i might just do the big time skip and end this story, so please consider leaving a comment/reblog | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @astrogirl01

"Kepus."

Daemon looks over his shoulder, finding Rhaenyra strutting over. Her violet eyes were not on him though, but on the blood wyrm sprawled on his belly yet again. Caraxes recognizes her and huffs smoke through his nostrils when she is upon him.

Rhaenyra knits her brows and prince steps aside, allowing her to pet his mount. "I did not think it was possible for a dragon to appear as such, much less a dragon as high and mighty as Caraxes."

Daemon does not speak. His face remains stoic but Rhaenyra knows better than to believe he is unfeeling. Still, she decides to linger in his silence. She ceases stroking Caraxes when he does.

He turns to her; she looks concerned and sad and it makes his chest tighten. He knows his instant recognition of it is borne from familiarity— familiarity for you emanated such emotions. He mumbles, "do not be so worried."

A line forms between Rhaenyra's brows. Part of her wants to snap at him— of course she would be worried! She wants to thrash her grievances out and tell him he ought to be glad she was worried about Caraxes, about him; it was never something he afforded her, not in the way she would have wanted. Her pride reigns her back from doing anything however.

Daemon witnesses the inner turmoil seeping on her features. Try as she may, she was not a difficult read. It was clear his sentiment was not appreciated. "I don't mean that I don't want you to care."

Rhaenyra opens her mouth, but no words come out, as she was not expecting such a response. Mockery? Something akin to it? Yes. But not that.

Daemon stares at his niece, brows raising at her shocked expression, "I do not want your youth and beauty to be wasted."

She purses her lips. Earnest. Her uncle was earnest. Her lips curve into a soft frown. His wife has made him soft. Her belly bubbles with feeble jealousy.

He shifts in his spot, their arms brushing against each other's as they turn to pitiful Caraxes. He links his hands together, "would you do me a favor, my girl?"

Rhaenyra's nostrils flare faintly. Am I your girl?

"I am to leave soon."

Her brows furrow, "what?"

He shifts again, "I cannot remain merely watching as Caraxes worsens day in and out."

"But I am to be married in three days!" Her lips stiffen, "will you not stay three days for me?"

He raises a brow "what use am I on your wedding day?"

Though he says it plainly, she hears it laced with vitriol, "to support me? To be there for me?!"

Daemon chuckles, genuinely endeared by the sentiment, "you need not your uncle's support on your wedding day."

She does not recognize his endearment. She scoffs, "you've made me come here to ask me for a favor, yet you m-"

"Lykirī," Daemon chortles, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder, "I did not say I was leaving before your wedding." Calmly.

She stiffens.

He smirks, pulling his hand away, "I was merely explaining, my absence would not be so substantial if I we-"

"What do you want?"

Daemon watches her tap her foot.

"What's the favor?" she motions with an impatient gesture.

He stands still for a moment, building the nerve to say it as plainly as possible. His voice betrays him with a random voice break, "m-y wife." He clenches his jaw. Gods. He can hear his own desperation.

Rhaenyra is offended by his aching, or rather, she wants to be. She was unsurprised that whatever he needed had to do with you, yet, it still went down her belly horribly. "What of her?"

"Last time I left... much of her was lost..."

She frowns in remembrance.

"... much of us."

Her reaction is involuntary. She scoffs and raises her brows, "do you forget, she wrote to you and you never once responded?"

Daemon's jaw sets. He slowly shakes his head, "I do not forget." He turns back to Caraxes, rubbing his side, "I shudder to think my penance is at the peril of my mount."

She stiffens, unexpecting another... earnest response. She nibbles her lip as guilt tightens her chest. Rhaenyra never believed Daemon was heartless, yet to see him so haunted... so vulnerable— "was it not you who said we carve our own destinies?"

He does not look at her. He hums, "and did I not carve out this demise myself?"

She watches him slowly turn.

He purses his lips, waiting for a response.

Rhaenyra shakes her head, "no. It's not like you made both your wife and your dragon sick."

Daemon chuckles and shakes his head, "you are kind to me."

She huffs through her nostrils. She thinks about his words for a moment then suddenly tenses, "wait. Are you telling me she is with child again?"

Daemon stiffens. For a moment, he wants to make her believe it, that his wife has not rejected any and all of his advances, but as he sees her horrified expression, he realizes she must think him villain, that he's had his way with you because he could, because it was easy. He clenches his jaw, "no." He wipes his face, "I simply want someone to look after her upon my leave."

Rhaenyra slowly tilts her head.

"My madness forthcomes if she withers because of my absence," he mutters lowly, turning back to his dragon.

"She is daughter to the Hand," she crosses her arms, "she is well looked after."

He chuckles dryly, "yes, oh I do so trust my wife's well-being with that old cunt." He shoots Rhaenyra a withering glare.

"She is sister to the queen," she raises a brow and crosses her arms, "you'd be wiser to have gone to her. I am outranked."

"And Alicent is far weaker to him than she," he narrows his eyes, "besides, I come to you because it is you I rest my confidence in," he gives her a solemn expression, "and you alone."

For a moment, Rhaenyra is satisfied. She basks in the thought, but it is soon not enough. She takes the opportunity to spur him on, "what of her twin?"

Daemon tenses, "what of her damned twin?"

"I'm sure if you wrote to Ser Gwayne, he—"

"Yes, and I'm sure you know how little my patience is."

"Well," she looks off and shrugs, "if you wish to surely see that you-"

"What do you wish me to say?!"

Rhaenyra pauses.

"Is it my tears you thirst for? Or you want me to beg?"

Her jaw slowly clenches. Perhaps.

"Or do want me to admit you that you were not my first choice, girl?" Daemon tilts his head as he looks upon her.

Her lips part.

"I asked Laenor first for he is her friend," he explains, sparing none of his vexation, "they're the same age, so he to her is like that fucking brother she so fucking deeply misses, Rhaenyra," he seethes, "is that what you wish me to say?"

Her expression hardens.

"You would be glad to know your promised is a loyal thing, Naturally, he agreed, and naturally added that if his princess told him otherwise, he would do otherwise."

Rhaenyra looks away, feeling in the least bit gladdened.

Daemon watches her aimlessly scan the room.

Caraxes rolls over, finally on his feet. He immediately is met by Daemon, who coddles him and sighs when he nuzzles into his chest. He spares Rhaenyra a glance, "doesn't feel good, does it?"

The princess would have flared at the words had her iciness not been shattered by the dragon's frailty. She huffs and rapidly shakes her head, "what do you want me to do?"

Daemon places his palm on the dragon's snout, turning to her as Caraxes leans into him.

"Shall I write letters to you everyday regarding her conditions?"

A line forms between his brows. He places the hand he had on his mount on her shoulder, "let her keep her peace... do not let anyone rob it simply because I cannot safeguard it."

Rhaenyra gazes upon her uncle. Her brows now match his, tightened with a weight of emotions they could not so simply name. She swallows the lump in her throat and lowers her gaze, "ao jorrāelagon zirȳla." You love her.

It was not a question, yet Daemon hums, "bona ñuha ībyr ōdrikagon." That my bones hurt.

She looks up at him, eyes beginning to water, "skoro syt..." Why...

Her uncle captures her chin and brushes it gently.

"Skoro syt gaomas tolvys vestragon naejot henujagon nyke?" Why does everyone seem to leave me?

"Eman daor geptot ao," Daemon shakes his head, "ñuha egros iksis aōhon." I have not left you. My sword is yours.

"Ossēnagon nyke lēda ziry pār," she snaps, pulling away from him. Slay me with it then.

"Rhaenyra-"

"Enough," she raises a hand, "I've heard enough."

He does nothing but clench his jaw.

She scratches her eyes, "rest assured that any who dare deturb your lady-wife's peace, mine own and my husband's dragon shall bedash their corpse."

As quickly as he takes a breath of relief, just as quickly does Rhaenyra walk off. Daemon only watches, though part of him did not want her to leave him so angry.

Daemon remains in the pit, fussing over Caraxes to the keepers, until supper nears. He leaves to join you, luckily spotting you just outside your niece's nursery.

Helaena is in your arms, asleep it seems. You spot him as he approaches, offering him a soft smile, "I'm just going to set her down."

Daemon notices there were flowers in your plaited hair. You were surely in the gardens with Aegon... and by extension your wards, but he trains his focus on your face. He opens the door for you.

"Thank you," you mutter, walking in.

He follows you towards Helaena's cot, watching as you set her down and tuck her in. The locks by your ears spill over your face. As you straighten and push your dark hair back, he wishes that he could have been the one to do so.

You smile at him again, "she nearly stood up today."

Daemon smiles back, eyes trickling down your form. Color has found its way back to you, to your clothes and your face. Today, you wore green, but nothing slimy and greedy like the color of your house. Twas taffeta in a freshly-grown-leaf green, embellished with silver lace that embraced your form. You looked like a woodland nymph, especially with the braided flowers running down your spine. Your eyes were not so sad and your skin was not so grey, though your cheeks remained rather hollow.

"I am eager for the day she speaks," you say as head out, your husband closely tailing you. You link your hands together as you walk side by side down the hall, "she looks always as though she has much to say."

Daemon hums, eyes pinned on your features.

You turn to him.

He smiles softly.

You recognize the exhaustion on his face, even through his current expression, "how fares Caraxes?"

His smile fades. He shakes his head, "there must be something done for him."

You frown when he clenches his jaw. You rub your arm, "is he still unwilling to fly?"

"He's unwilling to do anything save wallow," his nostrils flare.

"Poor thing..." you clench your jaw and rub your arm, "what do you plan to do?"

"I read that there is a gut illness that makes beasts lethargic. Apparently, there is an antidote in an herb that grows by the banks of the river Noyne."

You nod and furrow your brows.

"I will set to Norvos to procure them in three days, immediately after Rhaenyra and Laenor are wed."

You stop in your tracks.

Daemon does the same, only to take a step towards you.

"Oh... I..."

"Travel to Essos would take two moons, if luck finds me," he speaks carefully, "I will not take a second longer than I must."

Your lips part.

"I would take you with me," he reaches for your hand, "but I am to travel by sea and I fear too greatly your health will worsen on the way."

His hand is burning hot against yours. Goosebumps prick over your arms as he rubs your skin.

Daemon's heart drops when you lower your head. He gulps and bends down, desperate to see your face. It gashes him when you turn away.

"Kostilus," he mutters, "gaoman daor jaelagon naejot ojughagon ñuha zaldrīzes." Please, I do not wish to lose my dragon.

Your eyes are glassy as you look back at him. You shake your head, "you need not explain... nor do you need my permission," you sigh, "I will not beg you to stay."

He clenches his teeth hard enough that it hurts him.

You take a deep breath and rest your free hand atop his, "pepper balm, is it not?"

Daemon straightens up.

"The herb in river Noyne?"

"I-" he nods, "yes. Ysartia. Pepper balm."

You nod, "it is a ghastly bitter herb. I do not know if Caraxes will down it. I barely could, even with milk and honey."

He knits his brows, "you've had pepper balm?"

"I've had possibly every herb you can think of, Daemon," you mutter.

This only makes his brows further tighten.

For a moment, you lower your gaze in thought, then you decide to continue walking, "Delacius."

Daemon follows you, eager to keep holding you.

"He was the man my father hired whenever he needed something from Essos. He had a silver beard and a cut on his right eyebrow. He was massive, terrifyingly so, and had runes on his arms," you shake your head, "I met him only a few times, but he was someone you could not forget."

He is immediately enthralled. Your stories were normally told to all else but him. He is raring to hear this.

"He either smelled of sweat and sun... or barley, and gave me pressed flowers from his travels," you knit your brows, "... he was uncharacteristically gentle, considering my father told me he was a sellsword with a bounty on his head."

"Why did your father hire a sellsword to procure pepper balm?"

You chuckle and shake your head, "to cure me, Daemon," you roll your eyes, "hopefully."

The prince looks forward, "I did not know of this herb's existence until a week ago. None of the maesters nor dragon keepers seem to know it either."

He looks back at you when you squeeze his hand.

You offer him a gentle smile, "the oldest memory in my mind is that of my father leaving Oldtown to go to Highgarden. It did not know it, nor did I understand why. He had not been out longer than a day since we were born, neither had he ever gone without bidding me and my brother farewell. He had bid Gwayne, but I had slept in longer, and just missed him.

"I remember seeing his horse. I remember him seeing me run out to the yard. My nursemaid caught me and pulled me back, and father spared me but a glance upon his horse before trotting off," you shudder as the memory plays in your head, "I do not know why I thought he was leaving because me, but it was believed. It was the first time my heart tightened and my body trembled in anguish. I was bedridden when he returned, and he did not leave the chair beside me until I was strong enough to rouse.

"Since then, I have only gotten worse. The maesters first said my illness was simply borne from the fear of separation, of losing my father, my loved ones. It proved to be true, because whenever he left, I would get sick. Then my mother died, and heart began to give in if I ran too hard, or worried too much. My father allowed me to do less and less and procured more and more medicine," you purse your lips, "including pepper balm."

Daemon does not like the chuckle that leaves you.

"Clearly, none of them worked."

"Well, pepper balm is for the gut, not the heart," Daemon mumbles.

You shrug, turning away, "what cures the heart, I wonder."

He frowns at your expression and squeezes your hand.

You turn back to him.

"Love has brought color back to your face."

You chuckle and rub your tightening chest, "love is what drained it to begin with."

He looks away and hangs his head. He tenses when you pull away, but does not try to stop you.

Dinner is more frigid than usual for you were all of you cursed by the presence of the Lord Hand. Normally, attendance was reserved for four: you, Daemon, Alicent, and Aegon. Yes, there was the occasional ward, sometimes two, but even that he could stomach. There was something so putrid about the atmosphere because of this sour cunt, and Daemon knew it was not only him who thought so.

The only sounds in the room were of the cutlery and Aegon's babbling. Sometimes you or Alicent would respond to the boy, but it was silent otherwise. There was no reason for conversation to flow for you had not spoken to your father since Daemon's altercation with him in the hallway. And your sister was never particularly chatty in this time of day.

That all changes when—

"I have reassigned your wards," Otto mentions casually.

Everyone, save Aegon, turns to the old man. He, in turn, turns to Daemon, face blank, yet appearing as though he was looking for a challenge. The prince merely chuckles under his breath.

Your face, however, falls, "what?"

The Lord Hand takes a scoop of peas and chews it rather slowly

Daemon clenches his fist and slowly turns to you. You had been smiling at your nephew just a moment ago and now you were tense. He clears his throat and adjusts Dark Sister, which was leaned on the side of his chair.

Otto notices it. His lips curve as he swallows. He pats his mouth with a table napkin, then turns to you, "you have no use of them now that your husband is an ever ready presence."

Daemon chuckles, louder this time.

Your father's eyes flicker to him. He tilts his head, "do you disagree?"

You and Alicent tense as you look between the two glaring at each other.

"Mummy," Aegon points a chubby finger, "gravy please."

Alicent turns to the boy and pours some gravy on his potatoes.

Otto continues, "I don't recall you were ever fond of them anyw-"

"AH! MoOooOre!"

"No, Aegon," Alicent pushes his hands back when he tries to snag the gravy, "it's not a soup, you shouldn't put-"

"PLEASE!" he whines.

"-I don't recall you were ever fond of the Cargyll brothers," Otto finishes, eyes turning from his grandson to Daemon.

Daemon shrugs.

You frown, "where did you reassign them?"

"Back to their usual rotation," Otto turns to his plate and cuts some meat, "don't worry. You will not be seeing much of them, as they have much to attend to, considering the upcoming wedding."

"Āzma hen iā orvorta, glaesagon hae iā orvorta," Daemon says, making you turn to him. Born from a cunt, lives as a cunt.

"Orvorta." Aegon repeats. Cunt.

You gasp, "Aegon."

Daemon laughs, "kessa, ñuha valītsos. Aōha kepāzma iksis iā orvorta." Yes, my boy. Your (maternal) grandfather is a cunt.

"Gaomagon daor bodmagho se valītsos kōz ēngos," you grab Daemon's arm, making him laugh louder as he turns to you. Do not teach the boy evil tongue.

"Orvorta iksis daor kōz," Daemon chuckes, "mērī zirȳla... aōhon iksis gevie." Cunt is not evil. Only him… yours is beautiful.

You make a face and slap his arm.

Daemon snorts through his nostrils.

Otto attempts to get a word in again, but Aegon nearly jumps off his chair after deciding he was finished with his meal, stealing everyone's attention with him as he nearly crashes to the ground.

Alicent is forced to end her meal, and you do the same, not having much of an appetite anyway. You stand with your sister, and Daemon stands with you. He unabashedly eyes your father, silently warning him not to follow. Soon Otto is left in the room alone.

"Do not worry," Daemon tells you once you've parted with Alicent and Aegon in the hall.

You turn to his face and then to his hand when he takes your arm.

"You will keep your wards."

You take a sharp breath.

"I will not let him torment you with this," he shakes his head, "I cannot stand them, but I will not leave you lonelier because of mine own feelings."

Your lips wobble at his words.

Daemon frowns at it, heart aching at the slightest look of worry upon you, "I will speak to my brother about this, and if need be, I will speak to them myself."

Your forehead curls.

Daemon reaches for your hand, "do not worry. I will not cause commoti-"

You kiss his cheek, stealing his words and his breath at once.

He is gobsmacked when you pull away, unable to believe what had just happened.

"Thank you," you whisper.

Daemon feels his cheek tingle. He cannot help himself and touches the area which you laid your affection.

For a moment, it amuses you, but then his intense shock begins to make you wonder if you had overstepped... after all, you were never so physically affectionate. You only kissed when you laid together, and even then, it was hardly ever tender.

You shake your head and decide not to address it, "I... we should go to bed."

Daemon rubs his cheek, "... yes... t-to sleep..."

You feel your face flush and shake your head faster. You mutter, "yes, of course, what else for?"

Perhaps Daemon should be grateful that Otto was a scheming cunt. Things changed between you because of that dinner, because of that kiss. A barrier had been broken, a wall torn. You were no longer so distant. In times where he itched to reach for you, he would be shocked to have you touch him first.

You had invited him to do mundane tasks you normally accomplished on your own, like choosing the dress you were to wear for the day. You were no longer on such high guard.

And now, as music played in the great hall, as lords and ladies danced in celebration of the union of Rhaenyra and Laenor, you danced amidst it all and he could see you glistening. He saw you in a light he had not seen, or rather, he had been blind to.

You laughed, you frolicked, you danced, you lived— you were living. You were a shining, beauteous lady. You were you. This is who you were without the debilitating melancholy, without the cumbersome illness, without the suffocating father... without the sordid husband.

He watched upon the his seat on the banquet table how you grinned when it was your turn to spin around with Laenor. The sound of your laughter was set apart, as was the rest of you. You glimmered in your dress as you acted out the steps. Your face was not weighed so heavily by inhibitions. This was how you really looked. Daemon had never known it till now. He could not hide his awe.

Laenor notices and mutters as he twirls with you, "you should ask him to dance."

You look at him, smile morphing from glee to confusion, "who?"

"Who do you think?" he laughs, tilting his head to the side, bringing your attention there.

You look and see your husband, gaze locked upon you with the gentle smile. You stop dancing because of it, taken off-guard by the expression you had never seen before. You didn't think it was possible for him to look this way, to look at you this way. He looked fond, not lustful or hungry... dare it be love?

Laenor takes your arm, pulling you back into reality. When you finish the dance and applaud, you turn your back to Daemon, who was still staring at you.

Your breath catches in your throat when he stands and walks over. You are frozen in your spot.

Daemon tilts his head back and drinks in your form. He reaches a hand, "ñuha dārilaros." My princess.

You take his hand.

"Bisa siñagon ao," he rubs your knuckles with his thumb, "iksan biare naejot ūndegon ziry." This becomes you. I am glad to see it.

He pulls you into him and you hear your pulse thumping in your ears. His hand comes to the side of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw. The other comes to the small of you back, where he presses you flush against his.

Your breathing begins to shorten.

His lips barely move as he mutters, "lilagon lēda nyke?" Dance with me?

Your lips part but you can only nod.

Daemon pulls away but takes your hand. He leads you out of the room.

Rhaenyra watches you both leave the celebration early.

"I... did I misunderstand? Did you not ask me to dance?" you mutter as both pace down the western hall.

Daemon turns to you, squeezing your hand, "I did."

You stare at him for a moment, hoping that he'd explain.

He merely smiles at you.

You only realize he had taken you to the gardens when you arrive. It is a dark, moonless night, but you could still see his soft expression.

He brings you towards the fountain then takes both your hands.

You look up at him as he steps forward. He places your hands on his shoulders before brushing his own down your waist. You hold your breath when he brushes his nose against your temple, leaning into you. He begins to sway and you slowly follow suit. You sway with him, and only then do you bring yourself to relax. When you do, you take in his scent and relish his warmth.

"I will miss you greatly in my travel."

You tense and turn to him.

Daemon's eyes lock with yours. He tucks your brown hair behind your ear.

"The thought does not comfort me."

His brows furrow, "I... only meant to tell you."

Your eyes rove over his features. You notice the corner of his lips begin to droop, "why?"

"... why?" he repeats, almost questioning you. His brows furrow further, "I... I wish to be known..." he takes one of your hands from upon his shoulder, "like you know Laenor."

You watch him move your hand to his chest.

"Or Gwayne," he whisper softly, "or..."

You turn to him, brow quirking at his lowered gaze, "Alicent?"

"Mmm," he turns back to you, voice growing quieter, "yes... though I was going to say... ... your wards."

You laugh at his whisper.

Daemon thrives at the sound.

"My father is right," you shake your head, "I have not spent much time with them for you have kept my company..." you take a breath, "I admit, it has been a while since I've spoken to them."

"Well... that will change as I must leave your company again," he mutters.

"You can still keep me company even if you are not here," you bring a hand to his cheek.

He stiffens, throat tightening at your touch, at your words.

You feel your pulse begin to quicken as you open your mouth, "you... you could write to me."

Daemon involuntarily shakes his head, "I..." he grips the sides of your waist, "I would go mad not to receive word back from you."

You knit your brows and tilt your head, "do you assume I would ignore you?"

He pulls his head back. His lips part, "I-" he gulps, "it would be fair."

You take your turn to shake your head, "why would it be fair?"

"I... I hurt you."

"And hurting you in return will be a balm to me?" you brush his jaw.

"I-" his breath hitches, "it would be fair... to you."

"Fair..." you sigh, clutching his cheeks, "nary equates to right."

He is unable to keep your gaze. He chuckles under his breath as he looks off, "no one alive deserves your kindness."

"Deserve it then."

Daemons eyes flicker back to yours.

"Do not make me into you," you whisper, "be a little more like me."

You both stop swaying.

"Know me... like Viserys or Rhaenyra."

Daemon squeezes your side, "my love-"

Your belly rolls at the term.

"- we would not survive King's Landing if I let kindness cloud my judgment."

You sigh and shrug, "perhaps spare a bit of kindness for me?"

He deflates and rests his head upon yours. He embraces you tightly, "I swear to you, I try," he rubs your back. His body tingles when you return his embrace and rest your head on his shoulder. "You must understand I find it would be kind to behead your father."

You cannot help the chuckle that leaves you.

"I will not, for I know you find no kindness in it-"

"I do not."

"-but... it is truly kindness in my eyes."

You sigh, "then perhaps you must understand that I find it would be kind of me never to admit how your leave inspires my jealousy."

He stiffens and pulls away.

You chuckle bitterly as you see the looks of him, "I am sick... yet you would not stay for me."

Daemon opens his mouth, "I... I found no one who would go to Norvos."

You nod as your vision blurs with tears, "I kno-"

"I swear to you, if I could, I would bring you wi-"

"I know," you press your hand to his lips. You find yourself chuckling again but this time, tears stream down your face, "I will not stop you." You shake your head, "I should not have said it. It is not in my interest that you lose Caraxes."

Daemon grows teary eyed, "neither is it mine."

You nod and smoothen out his top.

"... shall... shall you see me off?"

You lower your head and disagree, "I would much rather not."

He squeezes your hand, "I understand."

The docks are surprisingly busy when he gets there. His things had been loaded beforehand, all that's left for him is to board.

"Why did you do it?"

Daemon stops and turns around.

Otto stands there in a dark, hooded cloak, "why did you reinstate her wards?"

He is immediately riled up, "what?"

"I was doing you a favor."

He chuckles dryly, "well, do me another and drown." The prince turns and makes towards the ship waiting for him.

"My daughter is a feeble woman," says the Hand, watching him walk away, "but she is a woman no less."

This makes him stop in his tracks. Daemon slowly looks over his shoulder, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means?"

Daemon is freezes. The sound of a ship rocking with its anchor sounds with the wind. The next second, the prince turns on his heels and storms towards Otto.

The Hand is completely still as the prince yanks him by the collar. Daemon seethes, "you would poison me with ideas to the detriment of your daugh-"

"I tell you because I wish to save her," Otto quips, "this is your consequence; it was you who has poisoned her, made her strong-willed and disobedient. She was never meant for you. She would be happily living in Oldtown had you not been less of a weaselin-"

"Careful!" Daemon barks as he shakes him, "I have my hands on your neck."

"Kill me at your peril," Otto scoffs, "your satisfaction will be shorter than mine own once I meet the grave."

Daemon shoves him back and Otto skids on the dirt, nearly toppling over.

"Remember it was you who brought Arryk and Erryk back into her company," the old man dusts off his cloak as his nostrils flare.

"And remember it was I who took who your daughter's maidenhead and nearly slayed your son during a tourney."

With this, the prince storms towards his ship and the lord feels bile rise up his throat.

[sramoonlight]

Robin for a night

Content you’ll see here: bat sis, batfamily, reader

English its not my first language so please be patient!

The batcave wasn’t a place where they usually hang out, but since you moved to the manor you had the weird idea to wait for them to go on patrol or see them once they come back, usually you do it alone maybe with Titus or with Alfred the cat but this time you were playing cards with Cassandra.

It as 12 o’clock and you were waiting for Damian, well, Bruce was

— Achu! — You sneezed covering your nose, you thought you were starting to get sick but there was nothing staining your hand

— Gezz (reader) maybe you caught a cold after all this nights — you knew that wasn’t true, you don’t sneeze without reason only if-

Damian appeared taking his usual militar position next to his father, he looked normal but he can’t lie to a twin sense

— Im ready for patrol, father —

— No, you’re not, you’re sick — You pointed causing Cassandra to raise an eyebrow not knowing why did you say that, of course, for her eyes Damian was absolutely good

But then he sneezed, a deep one that you knew he was holding back

— I can’t take you out like that, you can get worse — Bruce said taking off the domino mask on Damian’s face, he groaned on response not happy to put on time out

You chuckled at his reaction looking at your cards again, you kept playing with Cassandra as you overheard the conversation behind you.

Damian hates when someone sees him as weaker, but about this? You can’t argue with your dad, because you know, once he gets a very bad flue you’ll get one too

— But you’re right, it’ll be hard without Robin — Your father said and Cassandra looked at him, you mumbled something to ask for her attention in the game

— You can pick a replacement, I’m sure Tim would be happy to be Robin again —

Another groan, Damian doesn’t look happy about it

Eye contact

Your head moved to face the floor, you can already know what is in his mind and you need to think in something to not do it

— I request (Reader) as my substitute for tonight — damn demon!

— I can’t, we don’t look alike anymore — you tried to convince Bruce that it was a mistake

And you had a point, your hair was longer than Damian’s so it would be weird to see Robin with at least 20 cm longer hair

— You can have the hoodie at all times, it won’t be weird, Damian does that sometimes — Your instantly looked at Cassandra, she chuckled at your reaction.

— That’s fine with me, I’ll use this to bond more — The worst was that Bruce is happy with that

Damn family!

The Robin costume felt weird on you, you had almost the same seizures as Damian but you need to take a deep breath every some time, you loved your father but he doesn’t have any chest.

The Batmobile doesn’t feel weird actually, it’s like being in a car that has ultra futuristic mechanics, not too futuristic, without knowing much you can point at certain buttons knowing what they do.

Going back to the point, Damian let you borrow his katanas just because you didn’t have your weapons at the manor

And god, you can’t say that you missed the feeling of having that on your hands

— Let’s go Robin — Speaking of feelings, you have to admit that being called Robin gives you pride

Like if that tittle gives you magic.

You ran along Bruce chasing minor delinquents, just a few punches and they’re out

Who said that being a vigilante could be this fun? Still, you had to pressed back the smile on your face, Damian doesn’t smile when he’s on patrol

— You’re enjoying yourself — Bruce said looking at the way you kicked the thief’s face, not too hard because you didn’t wanted to break his jaw

— sure I am! This is so fun — you cleared your throat adjusting your voice to sound like Damian’s it wasn’t perfect but you can say it gives the vibe.

Being a vigilante felt so refreshing, you didnt punched to kill and that makes your heart feel lighter

— Robin careful! — in a blink you saw one of the thieves approaching with a name in his hands

And in a blink you unsheathed the katana on your belt

Cling cling

One more hit and you’ll be over with this, you just need to disarm him

“Go for the chest!”

A voice shouted and without hesitation you obeyed thinking it was Bruce giving you an advice maybe to end this duel faster than ever

But you couldn’t be more wrong.

You didn’t notice when something red stained the katana, neither when you felt your hands so wet that you had to let go of it, but instead of being dropped to the floor you could see how it is standing by its own

Well.. not like that

— Oh, oh god — Words left your mouth, not impersonating someone but being your true despair, you just stabbed that thief.

Hands shaking as you looked at your father, with eyes as open as yours Bruce doesn’t know what to do, like time was just stopped

Should you take it out? No, that’s stupid

And even if you tried, your hands are shaking enough to not let you do anything else

Why does this disturb you? You’re not new to killing people, but it was the first time in weeks

The first time Bruce saw you doing it.

Your head screamed to you, asking to run, to do something and you can only see how Bruce punched his opponent before running towards you

Your body moved by its one, you ran away as quickly as you could, running away from what Bruce is planning to do to you

Of course he will, right? His number one rule is no killing and you just disobeyed.

It doesn’t matter if he shouted your name not caring if he was on patrol, your legs couldn’t stop moving

You screw this up, on your first night as Robin

What is he going to do to you?

What is going to be your punishment?

Your lungs asked for air but you didn’t listed until you found a place to hide, the hood wasn’t up anymore and you had to cover your ears

Not because it was loud out there, but because you wanted to stop the screams on it

Screams that you hear when it’s dark out there, when the moon can’t be seen and you’re alone on that London room

And what makes it even worse, the way you can’t find air, the suit felt too tight for a moment like it was suffocating you

— (Reader)! — you heard someone calling you but you can let them see you, you know that when you panic and cry like this you can only wait for punishment.

Heavy breaths, your heartbeat feeling even more lauder now that your hands are on your ears

You’re alive and they’re not.

— Hey little one, come here — a pair of arms took you out of your hideout, you tried to fight back, pushing him away to do something

But he embraced you, that pair of arms hugged you tightly

— Shh, it’s okay — Bruce hugged you trying to calm you, to calm the voice in your head — I’m not mad, it’s okay —

A kind tone that makes you cling to him, the tears don’t stop but instead you have someone to hold you

— Oracle, send someone to.. — you didn’t hear that last words, instead you keep sobbing in your dads arms

And that man doesn’t let you go until you can’t cry anymore, it felt like hours.

He didn’t cared, he kept rubbing your back as your hiccups made you sound like a kid, and you were, the worst of all was that you were a kid playing to be a vigilante

You rubbed your eye wiping away the tears, finally you could speak

— What happened there (reader)? You were doing so good — Bruce didn’t stopped talking to you in a kind tone, you wondered if he just do that by his own or if he learned to do it

— I- I don’t know, I was just fighting and then my instinct told me to do it — a short explanation let Bruce humming in response, another rubbed in your back asking you to continue.

— I didn’t want to, I wear I didn’t —

— I know, don’t worry, Oracle made sure that he’s okay — You felt better knowing that you didn’t kill him.

Bruce wiped away the tears in your eyes, you could only hear the silence as he let you thought for a moment

He pulled up the hood hiding your face from everyone, his arms lifted you carrying you like a big baby, or that was what you feel

— Let’s go home, we had too much for tonight —

The sun went up and you didn’t notice when it was another day, you hugged your knees on the floor

You don’t know where you’re at, you just know that you jumped out of Bruce’s arms to hide again, not even taking off the Robin suit

This time no one went after you, knowing that you needed time to process.

Someone knocked, now you could see that you were under a table on the library and that someone was Jason.

— Space for one more? — He joked getting under it with you, his legs sprayed not even trying to fit in, just being by your side as you kept in silence

— I know the feeling, you were used to do bad things and once you do them again it hits you — words that didnt helped your heart feel better, instead making you remember the moment

— When I was your age I did one of those too —

— No, you didn’t —

Your voice sounded rough, consequences of crying and not getting any water after it.

— I did, as Robin too — Jason hugged you by the shoulders pushing you closer — I was so mad that I moved without thinking, and once I knew, that man was on the floor — you looked at him, he looked back

He wasn’t lying, he had the most honest eyes you had seen

— How do you deal with it? — you asked, not because of his story, because you knew he used to kill as much as you did.

He thought for a moment, his hand rubbing your shoulder

— You never do, you just live with that — the answer was one you were expecting, your mother used to say the same thing when you ask that question

— But, that doesn’t calm the storm in your heart — He pointed at the symbol in your chest

— You did bad things, but it’s on you if you want to keep doing it — it felt weird, the man who killed, that doesn’t hesitate before shooting someone said that to you — Change for the better, and undo all the pain you caused —

In a moment you hugged him, hiding your face from the world

— Let’s get you out of this thing, little one —

Your head doesn’t hurt anymore and the screams are no longer there, you still need to take a moment but you know that no one blames you for what you did

You’re a different person right?

[rosekeu]

RED. [dabi x reader]

[previous] [next]

sypnosis: you make a new acquaintance, toga, she takes a surprising amount of interests and introduces you to your fellow members. now the first night living at the league of villains headquarters you end up alone, or so you thought.

a/n: im actually having a really good time writing this (maybe because y/n is so easy to write loll) anyways

Your gaze locked onto the moldy ceiling of your new room. You held your hand up, remembering the same motions you used for your quirk. The way your fingers swayed and curled. It was easy to call upon your power.

To harm. To torture. To kill.

Your breath became slow and steady, but there was a heavy weight on your chest. No matter how many times you flexed your fingers, that familiar red energy was gone. The cuffs still weighed on your wrists, a constant reminder that you were nothing but a caged bird.

The silence ended when the door of your room swung open, the girl from earlier seemingly eager to see you. She bounced into the room with an unsettling enthusiasm, her golden eyes gleaming with excitement. "You’re finally awake and all settled in!" she chirped, tilting her head. "How are you feeling?"

You didn't answer, not like you could anyway. You simply stared at her, lowering your hand and resting it against your stomach.

She giggled in response, unfazed. “You’re so quiet, but that's okay! The name’s Toga!”

Toga threw herself beside you on the squeaky bed,lying on her side to get a good look at you.

"You don’t know how happy I am to have another girl in the League!" she gushed, kicking her feet playfully. "It’s always just been me and big sis Magne—” The name trembled on her tongue as she took out a small knife from her belt. You turned your body towards her.

“You had nothing to do with that, right?” She locked eyes with you, wide and unblinking. The knife twirled effortlessly between her fingers, a nervous habit or a threat—you weren’t sure.

You shake your head, gesturing to your cuffs.

Toga let out a breath you were sure she didn't know she was holding. “Okay good! Tomura said that once you gain our trust he’ll take those off!”

She beamed at you, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. “And I mean, trust takes time, right? But don’t worry! I’ll help you!”

You blinked at her, unsure how to act. 

Toga scooted closer, resting her chin in her hands as she studied you like you were her new favorite toy. “So, what’s your deal? You don’t talk, you’ve got that cool little mind trick, and Dabi was all mysterious when he brought you here.” She pouted. “He never tells me anything fun.”

You just stared.

She giggled, unfazed. “You’re so cute when you’re all serious like that! I bet Dabi thinks so too~”

Your eyes almost bulge out of your eye sockets. 

“Oh come on~” She teased, grabbing your hand. “He was all like– she’s so strong blah blah blah— she’s got potential blah blah blah,” She stops and leans close to your ear. “But between us, I just think he finds you pretty.”

You sit up, shaking and flinging your head and arms rapidly. As if you were physically deleting the words from the air. You don’t believe her, not one bit.

She furrowed her brows for a moment, and then smiled. Like a lightbulb had lightened up in her head. You watched her closely, you didn’t even know her for ten minutes but her emotions and expression told you everything.

“Come on! I’ll introduce you to the league!” Toga stood up enthusiastically, handing her hand out towards you. 

You shake your head profusely, with slightly pleading eyes.

Toga pouted dramatically, tilting her head. “Aww, don’t be shy! They don’t bite—well, maybe Twice talks too much, but he’s harmless!”

She grabs your forearm and pulls you out of the bed. You stumble slightly as she drags you across the room. Toga was surprisingly strong for her size.

“You can’t back out now!”

As you are being kidnapped once again but way less threatening towards what looked to be a living room. A misty purple being at the bar area, two guys lounging on the couch. A lizard looking fella sitting at the bar next to– Shigaraki.

And beside him, Dabi.

You try to plant your feet firmly on the hardwood floors but it's pointless. And for once you want your quirk back.

“Excuse me! Everyone!” Toga yells, still having a grip on your hand. And you stand like a deer in headlights.

“This is…” Toga spares you a glance. And you look around almost terrified. 

“Y/N.”

Dabi cuts the tense atmosphere, speaking up with an unknown confidence. 

How the fuck did he know your name?

Your head snaps toward him, eyes wide. Your name rolls off his tongue like he’s known it forever, like it was always meant to be spoken by him. But you know for a fact you never told him.

Toga releases your hand, bouncing on her heels. “Yup! Y/N’s our new friend! She’s gonna be staying with us from now on~”

She guides you across the room towards the couch, brushing past Dabi and Shigaraki in the process.

And you shoot a deadly glare at the man responsible for your current situation. And Dabi meets your glare with nothing but mild amusement, his stitched lips twitching at the corners. 

AS you are being sat on the old dusty couch, now between two masked guys. You look to your right and see a grey mask covering the face of the man beside you. He tilts his head slightly, voice bouncing between nervous excitement and hesitation.

“Hey, hey! New friend! That’s great! I hate her! What if she’s secretly plotting to kill us in our sleep?”

Toga giggles and you just stare at him bewildered. 

“Don't worry, Twice. She’s not gonna kill you.”

Before you can even process his erratic energy, the man on your left shifts, adjusting his hat.

“Now, now,” he muses, voice smooth and theatrical. “Let’s not overwhelm our guest.”

You glance at him. “Mr. Compress—” He grabs your hand and kisses the back of it. “M’Lady.”

You swallow nervously and look around trying to find something more interesting. And Toga calls your name. She’s standing beside the lizard looking guy. 

“This is Spinner, he might look all intimidating but he’s a real softy.” She says prancing around in her schoolgirl uniform.

Spinner scoffs, crossing his arms. “Don’t go spreading lies, Toga. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

Toga only giggles, clearly not taking him seriously.

The hours passed and you sat there watching TV with Twice, Mr.compress and Toga. The occasional contradicting comment from Twice and Toga teasing you and poking you with her knife. You didn’t really mind you were starting to get used to her presence.

One by one each member went to sleep and you were left alone on the couch. Eyes focused on the TV in front of you. Nothing on your mind in particular, just the feeling you've been in the same position before. 

The TV lights illuminate your face, flashing with colors as you pull your knees close to your chest. Your new bracelets (handcuffs) ringing in the process. 

There's a stubborn weight that carries inside you. Like a gaping hole waiting to be filled. 

The feeling is eerily familiar. Sitting in the dim glow of the television, silence stretching around you, the empty space beside you colder than it should be. It reminds you of nights in the compound,  excruciatingly lonely hours where you sat in the dark, too exhausted to sleep but too drained to move.

It doesn't feel the same as back then(when Chisaki had his chokehold on you) but doesn’t feel entirely different either. The weight in your chest presses deeper, that hollow ache lingering, stubborn and unshaken.

You’re so caught in the fog of your thoughts that you don’t notice the presence behind you until a voice cuts through the silence.

“Déjà vu?”

Your head turns slightly. Dabi stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you with a lopsided smirk. But his eyes—sharp, betray him showing a quiet curiosity.

You blink once then nod. 

He exhales, stepping forward and takes a seat next to you. The cushions dipping under his weight. The smell of burnt fabric and something smoky lingers around him. 

For a while, he doesn’t say anything. You both sit there watching the screen flicker with a cliche sitcom. 

Dabi tilts his head in your direction, eyeing your figure.His inspectful gaze ending on your arms, they were littered with scars some deep, others lighter, all different shapes. Then landed on your cuffed wrists.

“Comfortable?” He asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. 

You lift your arms, rattling the cuffs lightly before raising an eyebrow at him.

He huffs a quiet chuckle, looking back at the TV. “Figured.” 

The two of you lapse into silence again, the TV’s glow flickering against your faces. It’s oddly easy, sitting here like this. Dabi doesn’t push for conversation, doesn’t try to fill the quiet with meaningless words.

He shifts slightly, resting one ankle over his knee, his fingers lazily tapping against his thigh. The sound is quiet, almost like he’s thinking.

“C’mon.” 

You stared at him, confused.

He doesn’t say anything more, just stands up, shoving his hands in his pockets. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes, something you can’t pinpoint.

You hesitate for a moment before rising to your feet, the cuffs clinking as you move. 

Dabi glances at them but doesn’t say anything. He just walks to the door, and you follow.

You were supposed to earn the trust of the League right? Maybe this was the perfect opportunity.

As you walked out into the open, the chilly night air felt crisp against your skin. The city hums around you— streetlights buzzing, the occasional car that passes you both by, distant police sirens that seem to trigger you. You tense your shoulders and take a deep breath. 

You’ve never really been out in the world before. You didn’t expect it to be this crowded. Dabi leads the way in front of you, almost instinctively knowing where to go, where to turn. 

Eventually– you arrived. A small run-down diner tucked between tall buildings, its neon sign flickering with dim lighting. The glass windows fogged and you could see some silhouettes from the inside, conversing and eating.

Dabi pushes the door open, the little bell above jingling softly.

You step inside, warmth wrapping around you instantly, carrying the scent of coffee, fried food, and something sweet. The lights buzz above, casting a dull glow over cracked vinyl booths and a long blue counter lined with stools. Dabi takes a seat on one of the booths by the corner.

You slide in across from him, eyes wandering. You’ve never been in a place like this before, never sat in one of these worn-down booths, never stared at a food menu.

Dabi watches you, amusement flickering in his gaze. He leans forward, propping his chin on his hand. “What? Never been to a shitty diner before?”

You shake your head, the tip of your fingers softly trailing the rim of the table. 

That makes him snort. “Man, you really did get robbed, huh?” He flicks open the menu, scanning it lazily. “They’ve got everything here—noodles, pancakes, whatever the hell a ‘Soba milkshake’ is.” His lips twitch. “Pick something.”

You hesitate as he turns the menu towards you, your eyes scan it. The options seem endless. It’s all so overwhelming and you can’t help but glance up at him.

He catches the look and scoffs. “Don’t give me that. I’m not ordering for you.” But there’s no bite to his words, just that quiet teasing he never seems to get sick of.

For the first time in a long while, something unfamiliar stirs in your chest. Not fear, not exhaustion. Something lighter.

You tap a picture of a milkshake. A pink one you can’t seem to pronounce in your head. 

Dabi raises a brow, and shrugs. “Good choice.”

[melondecarabia]

HIIIII OMG HIIIIII YOU SAID RITSU PROMPTS??? I WILL GIVE U RITSU PROMPTS OMGGGGG

hes literally my fav ever ajhsdhjvfaggjhafgjfadh BASHING MY HEAD INTO A WALL okay im normal hi i am so sorry

okay so,,,, if i may,,, can i offer u ritsu with a partner who is very much a helper? like they get him morning coffee and organize stuff for him and are always ready and willing to help him with anything he wants/needs?

sdhjhsdgv i am SO EXCITED to meet another ritsu fan SO EXCITED!!!! we are rare so i get so jumpy jsadhasgfd

i hope this prompt inspires you but if it doesnt feel free to delete ofc !! <33 happy writing nd have fun!!! thank you!! :D

˙⟡ jitters

ritsu shinjo x fem reader 

fluff, pining ritsu propaganda 

mdni! 

authors note: i was about to go to sleep when I saw this, and immediately got a vision... rraaahhhhhhh!!!!!

tw: none 

As he does each morning, Ritsu has polished his appearance. An upcoming lawyer is to always keep his appearance put together, in order to reflect his capabilities, after all. He even went so far as to wake up 10 minutes before his usual alarm in order to polish his collar chain. That specific brand sells earrings of the same design… the design that you complimented. 

Perhaps he should acquire them for you as a show of gratitude. You had accompanied him yesterday to search for a file, which should've contained information about a potential client's family. The endeavor itself was fruitless, but he did acquire some useful information! For example: you are sensitive to dust. 

Recordings show that when he set down an unrelated folder on a particularly dusty cabinet top, you sneezed after only a few seconds. Of course, he had to confirm this by repeating the circumstance after 3 minutes, and again after 7, just to confirm. (Not because it was cute. That would be unprofessional, and a distraction from his and your work.) 

You seem to be fond of tomatoes. On that day, and 4 days prior, you had eaten food containing the ingredient while dining with him. You seemed quite satisfied with those dishes. He'll have to remember that for future outings. (Italian restaurants are quite likely to offer at least a few options with tomato. Perhaps he should celebrate your next accomplishment with a visit to the one he's visited quite a few times with his mother.) 

When he voiced his displeasure with the useless search while escorting you to your dormitory, you had slightly laughed. It wasn't in a mocking tone, and he didn't mind it. His mood slightly lightened after it, in fact. (Most who laugh in his presence weren't very polite. But you've never said anything disrespectful about his manner of speech, or way of thinking. Each laugh he prompts from you has him wanting more of it, in fact.) 

The morning walk to your daily meeting spot before your dormitory is the perfect time to compose the words he wants to say to you. He has started escorting you to and from the school building, as it's a good opportunity to recount what you both need to do that day, and what was accomplished. Client meetings? Investigations? Consultations? Perhaps a mission? Your aid in gathering necessary information like client phone numbers and e-mail addresses is a great relief. (He will admit he got slightly vexed that time an informant had made passes at you, while you were attempting to figure out a person of interest's schedule. Also, he may have made an anonymous tip about that person's habit of sneaking alcoholic drinks into his dorm.) 

He has a habit of visiting the corner store for some take-out coffee, as it's on the way to your destination. So, for what reason do you have a similar cup in your hand? It's not the same color either… 

"Morning, Ritsu. Sleep well?" Your voice isn't very cheerful this time of day, but it's nevertheless friendly, and still tinged with tired raspiness. You've addressed him by his first name for some time now, and he has confirmed you are alright with him doing the same. "Good morning, miss (Y/N). As usual, I have. I hope the same is true for you as well, as we both should be in our best capacity in order to secure the laurel crown." It feels pleasant to refer to the two of you with the term 'we'. Two people so compatible, they operate as one. He hasn't managed to refer to you by name alone, but you don't seem to mind it, and even smile at the title. 

You hold out the plain natural white cup. It's covered with a lid, but he can tell by the wafting scent that it's coffee. "Black, as usual. Figured it would save some time if I made it here. Does it taste good?" He has to remind himself to move his hand to take it, instead of just staring at yours. It immediately warms him, even through the leather of his glove. He hopes your hand wasn't irritated by the heat. 

"…it's acceptable." He can tell it's the same brand as the one at the corner store. He also knows you don't drink this coffee, claiming it's too bitter. Did you go out of your way to purchase the brand of coffee he prefers, taking time out of your morning? He knows you dislike waking up early, and like to sleep in as much as possible, even if it's only a few minutes. Did you push that habit aside for him? "Ah, good. By the way, I managed to get that schedule you asked for. I don't have a printer, so I wrote it down on this paper. Hope you can read it." Your handwriting isn't very neat, but he's learned to read it with ease. Ah, you're already a few steps ahead. He stumbles a step to catch up, and thankfully you don't notice. He angles the paper to cover his flustered face. He should order those earrings for you this evening. 

[dollysturniolo]

All I've seen on my tumblr lately is "the triplets are lazy " " they keep letting us down" "their content is lacking " GIVE IT A FUCKING BREAK PLEASE FFS GET A GRIP

Yes the videos are rushed and small lately because they are busy planning tour for their fans to make sure they have fun to make sure the price of those tickets (a price clearly set by management and that needs a rant of its own as the triplets dont deserve the hate they get for it. management is the one that deserves the hate) are worth it, planning things to make sure they make people laugh , to make sure u guys are happy and all any of u do is complain or have ago at them or shit on them it's honestly so disheartening to see i can't even begin to imagine how they must feel everytime they go on their phones, they are doing all that they do for u guys to just not appreciate any of it.

also i see people complaining about the no photo dump this Friday they said it isn't a permanent thing that's being stopped its a one off, they have clearly been extremely fucking busy with tour aswell as their other shit , they are human they have lives they have a family , friends, their own brands , they need to eat and sleep like humans do , shower , clean their house , they may deal with health issues , mental health issues , they also get sick aswell like we all do and may need a day or two to rest from that like WE ALL FUCKING DO, they have meetings to go to , they go shopping like humans do , they are working on merch , booking hotels , sorting venues , idea planning, schedule making , video idea planning and filming and coming up with new content ideas isn't easy , they are probably packing for tour , management is probably on their backs aswell , and matt is also still working on his personal project and thats just the stuff we know of publicly, they live a fucking life , and yall forget that and it's annoying as fuck.

they aren't at our constant beck and call we aren't the only shit they have going on right now u don't know what's going on behind closed doors. they said they haven't done anything fun this week they have had meetings all week so the pictures they probably have taken are probably random selfies or of a meeting room or maybe a pic of a wall and paperwork and if they posted those pics as the photo dump yall would complain that the photos are boring so either way they can't win at anything they do lately. yall are complaining just to complain at this point.

they have had a hectic 5 years of constant posting constant filming constant planning constant GO GO GO they haven't stopped , don't forget their job doesn't end like a normal 9-5 they can't just walk out of work at the end of the day and relax once they get home they live it they wake up to 10000 of notifications and calls they go to sleep with their phone going mad from fans or management or staff or their brand workers or PR collabs , I have no doubt at all that they are grateful for the life they have but that doesn't mean it isn't extremely tiring cos they can't just stop they haven't took a break just for themselves and im sorry but they need to, haven't u guys noticed how tired they look how much they yawn or stumble over their words cos they clearly aren't getting enough sleep, they are working so hard on a tour so many of u guys begged them for , and also have faith that when they have finally stopped the constant work and running around that the content quality will go back to normal , so just stop complaining and maybe ask them " how are you guys really doing " or maybe just be a decent human and think for a minute they are still people like us with flesh , blood ,bones , troubles and busy schedules.

im so tired and upset seeing people dragging the name of 3 guys they apparently love i would never have ago at anyone I love even the tiniest bit the way some of u guys do to the triplets , it's ridiculous sorry for this long ass post but I've had enough and if u can't see that this constant hate is genuinly getting out of hand then maybe ur part of those that need to take a long hard look at the type of person u are , personally I'm grateful that they are healthy, happy and make me laugh whether they posted everyday of the year or once a year I don't care i love them for them not how much content they make if i want to watch them and they havent posted i go to any of the current 370 videos they do have available and watch one of those i don't take it to social media and nag them to post more, i want them to enjoy their life not have to work like mad just to keep ungrateful people quiet , I know of other content creators that post alot less than they do and I dont see half as much hate for them as I do towards the triplets , im sorry but alot of this fandom has become extremely toxic .they deserve alot more love than is being shown towards them rn , I'm done now but i had to say it .

[factual-fantasy]

25 Asks! Thanks y'all :}}🦍

I haven't gone into detail about what I've been battling for anonymity reasons, but there's not much to be said anyways.

Its basically "You don't have anything on this huge list so we're feeling like its probably this. Here's some stuff for you to do and see if it works."

So far I have not been cured. 💀

After reading through these, Cybertron and Beastwars peaked my interest :00 But I just don't think I could stomach the others. Especially not animated 😅

Thank you very much for these reviews tho! It was greatly appreciated!! :))

@mothpendragon

SCREMASS THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDDD

And YEAHHHH LES GOO!!! Another Ratchet fan! :DDD I love Ratchet he's so grumpy and so full of love and care but he wont admit that🧡🧡🧡

@misscherrypie

(Spanish to English translation: I'd like another 45 tangerines)

XDD Yup! That's me for sure. I've wolfed down like 4 bags in the last few weeks! XDD 💞💀

(Referencing this post)

Thank you so much!!! :DDD And I do kind'a wish we saw more of a reaction from Optimus when he saw for himself that Raf was ok at least..

When Ratchet called to Optimus during his battle "Optimus.. we did it." (Referencing that they cured Raf) it didn't look like Optimus heard him.. which made me think that Optimus was going to be noticeably more tense/angry/panicked once he got his memory back. Because as far as he knew Raf was still dying, and that caused him to freak out earlier sooo...

I expected him to look distressed until he walked into the base and saw Raf and realized that he had been cured. Oh well 😔 I can say tho that Optimus immediately addressing Raf by name to make it clear he remembers him was a sweet touch 😌❤️

@gas-station-chip-dip

AAAAAAA THANK YOU!! :DD THAT MEAN A LOT!! :}}}💞💞💞

@1nksp1ll

:DDD THANK YOU!! :}}}}

@badlyblurry (Image is from this post)

HDJHBHBF THANKYIUUUU XDDD IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE HOW I DRAW HIM!!! :}}}}}}

@minnesotamedic186

I just made it up! :0

(Referencing this post)

Ooooo that's a good question. And I kiiind'a think I have an idea for it..?

I imagine that synthetic energon- (when fully completed and when not) is a green/turquoise color. I pictured that the process of making it artificially is what makes it off color. So what if any fluids that their body makes with synthetic energon is ALSO off color? Maybe instead of red tears they would be orange? Or yellow? Probably orange..

Now with dark energon.. I kind of imagined that all the fluids in a transformers body are replaced with dark energon due to its mythical/endlessly powerful nature. Instead of crying lubricant, Megatron just leaks dark energon.. 💀

ALSO SEHFSHEF THANUYOUU XDD

Ah sorry, but I have privated my TFP OC ref sheets. 😥

@imafrealinrainbow478484

Not doing so great today, hoping I feel better tomorrow 😔 Thank you tho! <:) I hope you're feeling better than I am! <XDD

@kaiserdarken

There would be chaos 💀

@artistiemi

HAPPY (late) MARIO DAY!! :DDD

What does this mean 💞💞

@neo-metalscottic

AAAA THANYUU SO MUCH!!! 😭😭💞💞💞

Now for the vehicons.. are they not actually clones? I always assumed they were.. If the canon suggests they aren't clones there's a loooot of rethinking I need to do 💀

(Link in ask)

I thought Tailgate was a bit chaotic I didn't know he was straight up unhinged-

(Takes notes for my tfp Tailgate👀)

(Link in ask)

Breakdown is/was a nurse? Is this canon.? I don't remember that.. I always thought he was just a generic soldier meant to counter the wrecker class :0

Its easy for me to draw through all the sickness and aching, because its my favorite thing to do and cheers me up a lot! :)

@candyglumboy

I've always kind'a liked Sonic. But I'm not sure how I'd dive into making comics for it.. There seems to be a lot of lore I need to catch up on.. 😞

Also I watched the 1st sonic movie and thought it was alright. I've played some odd sonic games here and there too! :)

@doodleclownbunny

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD

And ooooo! :000 That's a fun Wally design! :)))

YES SIR MR.ANON SIR🫡🫡

@beryl-shade

Well... yes, I suppose it has! 😅

I will keep my eyes peeled for this 👁️👁️

@webbdiverr

Its like they always say, great minds think alike! XDDD

[surelystaggering]

currently doing a book annotation swap with a friend but i have no idea if im going overboard or not because i dont know them that well 😭

weve said whatever thoughts come into our head but like… im sort of all in when annotating books so

[dreamsy990]

drew some of my fav ody designs! wasnt originally meant to be also replicating the styles but thats sort of just how my brain works. except i didnt copy the lineart styles of anyone here so its DEFINITELY a bit uncanny for a couple of these (LOOKING AT YOU QINNY IM SO SORRY) but whatever

the designs featured here (from left to right) belong to: me, @gigizetz, @neal-illustrator, @irunaki, @bigidiotenergytm, @qinnyanimation, and @foopsie-daisy