#but the other one was fine so i still win

[phantom-of-the-memes]

⚠️ The general election in the Republic of Ireland is happening tomorrow, November 29th⚠️

Here’s what you need to know if you are a leftist/ just want Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael out of government.

Firstly, why do we need to get them out?

Because they have been in power for almost 100 years! 100 years of a “centre” right government. We have not even had a centre left government in all this time, never mind a left government. Something has to fucking change. Even if you’re not a socialist like me, you have to acknowledge that all the problems currently in Ireland have been caused, or at least not dealt with by them. They’re the ones in power! And yet they talk about the issues in Ireland and how something has to be done… Simon Harris is a joke with his “a new energy” signs. Cunt you’re the current fucking Taoiseach!

So, who should you vote for?

If you truly want change, and a government that is for the people, vote People Before Profit number one. They are actually putting actions behind their words. They have explicitly said that they will refuse to go into government with FF or FG. They want the other left parties to form a left coalition with them, and also make a stand to refuse a right government. Other left parties, however, are quite lukewarm on the situation, and won’t join the coalition. But still put other left parties for number two and three. Some are more preferable than others. But change is change.

Ok if you’re not a socialist like me, there are other options. Sinn Féin is centre left, so if a bit more conservative than others. This makes it the third most voted for party generally. It’s a bit more palatable to the general public than the commies I vote for lol. I don’t agree with the majority of their policies, especially with them dialling back their support for trans people. I assume to appeal to FF and FG supporters. As a trans person I wouldn’t personally vote for them. But I understand the logic of being strategic about your vote. They’re the most likely to win out of the left parties.

Why should you still vote for parties that likely won’t win the overall vote?

Because they will still get seats! This isn’t a presidential election where it’s all or nothing. The majority winner gets to be the ones in power. But this is a democracy. More votes for a party means more seats for them in the Dáil. So it does matter.

What is each party’s stance on taking action against Israel?

Here’s a very helpful graphic from the ucd bds group on Instagram (ucd_bds):

See FF and FG’s stance? Exactly.

Who you should definitely not vote for?

Aontú are literal nazis. Their main selling point is that they hate immigrants. They want to strip their rights and practically stop immigration all together. They also hate women, and want to criminalise abortion again. The members of the party were big parts of the pro life movement that tried to stop the abortion referendum. Of course they also hate trans and queer people. Basically any and all minorities. They aim to bring fascism to our government. Don’t let this happen. This is also why voting is so important, so we can prevent this.

And this should go without saying, but don’t fucking vote for the joker independent candidates that have signs around saying shit like “make crime illegal”. It’s not even a joke to vote for them. You’re an asshole if you throw your vote away like that.

Remember to find out where your local polling station is, and bring your polling card, on Friday the 29th of November.

[kkuzushi]

May I request a Popular kid Scaramouche x Nerd reader (basically a power bottom scaramouche)

Also can I be 🐀anon

“ 𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 ”

✦ characters: powerbottom!Scaramouche x amab!reader

✦ cw: no nut November, college setting, academic rivals (sort of), handjob (receiving & giving), slight praising but mostly humiliation, riding

✦ word count: 2.549k

✦ notes: I’m inexperienced with writing power bottoms so this took some time, I hope I did it right despite being more used to sub-bottom characters. Welcome to my blog as well, 🐀 anon! <3

You sat cross-legged on the couch, your laptop opened and displaying an earlier announcement. The debate competition you had joined was held today and your opponent? It was no other than the confident and quick-witted Scaramouche. However he was no match to you as always—when it comes to academics, you were simply 1% better, and that’s on being humble.

In your dorm, there was another competition being held. A staring contest between you and Scaramouche, both engulfed in silence. He glared at you, most likely sulking in his defeat.

“Fine.” Scaramouche sighed, putting his hands up in mock surrender, “You won, enjoy while it lasts.” His voice was laced with irritation and amusement. It’s not like he’ll deny that you did good but he won’t admit you were better.

You smirked, crossing your arms, “I plan to.” You looked away once the silent staring ended, taking your laptop and switching to your spreadsheet. There’s still a lot to do before the day ends and you intend to be productive.

You pushed up your glasses to the bridge of your nose, getting ready to continue on your day. Working’s about to be more fun, after all, it’s not everyday you crush someone who’s so sure they’re better than you.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes, seeing you ignore his presence easily in turn of concentrating to your works again. “We’re not done, you know,” He says, pushing himself off the wooden chair he was sitting on.

You glance at him, with a raised eyebrow you replied, “We are, unless you want the principal to reannounce the winner.” Scaramouche glared at your smug smile, he decides to push it aside, this is just one of your few wins over him, no big deal.

He walks closer to you, getting too close for comfort. “Don’t get too cocky now or you might lose this one.”

You blink, “Lose what?”

Scaramouche grinned and quickly plucks your glasses off your face. “Scara–” You warned, your arm extending to take it back from his grasp but he was quicker, keeping it out of your reach.

“Since you made me lose–”

“I didn’t make you lose,” you interrupted.

He rolled his eyes, “Okay, let me rephrase that.” Scaramouche cleared his throat, “Since you won the debate, it’s only fair I win something, right?” He grinned, the curve of his lips reminding you of a mischievous cat.

You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms, “You’re not making sense.” Before you could even add more to your statement, Scaramouche walked closer and pressed a hand on the cushions behind you, trapping you on the couch.

“A fair trade,” He muttered, “You win the debate, I win this.” To emphasize his point, his free hand pushed your laptop to the side as he straddled your lap. Your legs uncrossed out of instinct despite being caught off guard by his actions.

You moved back against the cushion, feeling rather awkward with the sudden proximity. “A seat on my lap, really?” You joked, but the glint in his eyes tells you there’s more to this.

Scaramouche’s grin widens, his legs closing in on you to further trap your body in between them. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve heard of this little challenge you’re participating.. NNN, was it?” He drawls, his hands tracing your chest.

Is he kidding? There’s no way a childish challenge like that was enough for him to feel satisfied.. I mean, it’s not like you’re taking it seriously, right?

“You don’t dare–”

“Oh but I do.”

Scaramouche chuckles, his hips starting to grind against your crotch. His movements were slow but precise, intended to tease you to your limits.

Your hands gripped his waist, forcing him to pause for a moment. “Stop that.. I have better things to do right now,” You breathed out, a clear sign of warning in your eyes.

Scaramouche almost considered your words but he just smirked, carrying on with his movements. “You expect me to believe that?” His face leans in closer, “You’re getting hard awfully fast.” Without waiting for a reply, he closed the distance and captured your lips in a deep kiss.

He can feel your arousal building right beneath him with every roll of his hips, just the mere thought of turning you on was enough to turn him on. Amidst the kiss, Scaramouche was already thinking of ways he can easily make you lose this no nutting game, and he got just the right idea for it.

The both of you pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. The atmosphere in the room isn’t helping you at all, but then again, making out with Scaramouche means you’re already fucked.

The indigo haired brat was quick to get into action, his movements sharp as if he was determined to either make you lose or get to the real thing. Or both. In a blink of an eye, your pants were pulled to the floor, and next would be your garment which he was already fumbling with.

You gripped his wrists firmly, attempting to push him away. “You can't actually be going through with this,” you protested, voice sharp with disbelief.

But Scaramouche only laughed, the sound low and smug, his mischievous eyes glinting with confidence. Before you could protest any further, he twisted his wrists around to escape your grip. The realization hits you too late—he was completely serious about this.

And just like that, the tables turned, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath Scaramouche. Your cock stood rigid, thankfully not yet leaking precum—after all, that would be quite the embarrassing sight for you, wouldn’t it? But the man before you is nothing if not stubborn, and there’s no chance he plans on taking it easy.

Scaramouche slowly wraps a hand on the base, stroking you to full erection. You bit your bottom lip, suppressing the noise of arousal that’s threatening to escape. You can’t let him win right at the beginning, it’ll inflate his insufferable ego.

His violet eyes observed you intensely, as if daring you to slip up, while his movements grew more deliberate. The room felt warmer with every second, your self-control being pushed to its limits under his relentless teasing. You couldn’t give in, not now—not with that smug grin of his silently declaring his impending victory.

Concealing your noises wasn’t enough to hide the evidence of your arousal, though, as a slick warmth began to drip down to his fingers. The sensation only served to spur Scaramouche on, his movements becoming smoother, aided by the telltale fluid that betrayed your resistance.

“Well, would you look at that..” He murmured, leaning in until his breath ghosted against your ears. The obscene sounds filled the air, wet squelches echoing louder than your restrained breaths. “Seems like all that fight of yours is slipping away,” he taunted, his thumb brushing over the angry tip of your cock.

Scaramouche props himself, nimble fingers working to unfasten his pants. Even with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face, it was impossible to miss the way his breaths had grown shallow, his eyes tainted with want despite the composed facade he’s been putting up.

“I’m not the only one turned on, huh?” You muttered, a teasing edge to your voice as your eyes glanced up to his. His smirk faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he shoved his pants off.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’m still in control here.” Scaramouche scoffed as he continued to strip himself. Finally, his own dick springs free from its confinements, hard and almost begging for attention. You stared for a while, temptation waring in your mind. Maybe you can turn the tables if you teased him enough.

As your gaze lingers on him, Scaramouche’s smirk deepens. The obvious look of hesitation and temptation in your eyes was another opportunity for him. “Careful, your stare might melt me,” he teased, his voice dripping with a playfulness.

He shifted, lowering his body to yours, the head of your cock resting in between his ass. “Touch it,” He grinned, grinding himself against your weeping dick. “You want to, don't you?” He adds, there was no mistaking that Scaramouche wasn’t exactly asking; he was commanding.

There goes your chance of regaining control. Your hand trembled slightly, the tension in the room thick as you fought the urge to give in. But Scaramouche wasn’t making it easy. His body was so close, his scent intoxicating, and the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight.

Once your hand makes contact with his shaft, you feel the man twitch a little. With a quiet gulp, you start to stroke him like he did to you. He continues to grind himself against you, movement in sync with your palm.

Scaramouche’s grin widens as you obey his words, his breath becoming uneven with every passing second. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, squeezing gently. “Just like that,” he praised, his voice breathless yet undeniably smug, as if he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Were you actually into this? The thought crossed your mind as Scaramouche’s commands and praises echoed in your ears. Pondering over it, the man above can feel your hand faltering, contemplation filling your face.

Scaramouche took the opportunity to lean in, his lips brushing softly against your ear. “Don’t stop now,” he whispered, his voice almost a challenge, one that made your pulse spike. “Unless you’re starting to want more?”

“I don’t–” He was quicker than your protest, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel something tight constrict your length. Scaramouche groaned as he lowered himself further on your cock, precum lubing his insides.

“Fuck– Scara, wait–”

“Gonna cum already?”

“No! That’s not–..”

It felt as though you could dissolve completely under the sheer heat of his inner walls, the tight warmth clinging to your cock already making you see stars. Despite teasing you, Scaramouche had his face buried in your neck and hands gripping your shoulders, hot breath hitting your skin as he adjusts to the intrusion inside him.

After a few moments of silence, Scaramouche began to move, riding you with slow precision. Wet, obscene sounds filling the room in an instant. Every glide of your cock inside him has you moaning, while he was watching you with a smirk.

The brat could see the subtle shifts in your expression—the way your body responded, betraying the calm front you forced to keep. He was in complete control of the situation now as he watched you squirm under his attention, every little shift sending a ripple of satisfaction through him.

“Don’t forget that NNN challenge of yours,” Scaramouche grinned above you. You almost forgot about that, the only thing you can focus on is his weight pressing down on you, tight entrance swallowing you whole.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower, teasing you further, “Or perhaps you’re losing already?” He continued as your face flushed even deeper. “You’re halfway there, aren’t you?”

You looked him straight in the eye, lips barely moving as you gritted your teeth. “Fuck off,” You muttered, trying to sound nonchalant, though your voice betrayed the slight tremor of frustration. Your hips start to move with a mind of its own, shallowly thrusting up to Scaramouche, movements small yet evident to the man receiving it.

Scaramouche didn’t miss a thing, of course. Even the slightest twitch of your muscles told him everything he needed to know. You weren’t as composed as your earlier facade tried to show.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “How cute,” he purred. “You can’t stop moving. You’re just giving in without even realizing it, aren’t you?”

Every part of you screamed to resist, to regain some semblance of control, but Scaramouche’s inner walls clung to your shaft, forbidding you to pull away or stop the rise and fall of his hips.

The indigo haired brat’s hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, his smirk never faltering as he tilted his head down to meet your gaze. “Are you finally enjoying this?” He drawled, enjoying his control over you.

He leaned in, lips brushing close to your ear. “How humiliating for you,” he added, his breath warm against your skin. His tone was laced with mockery, but the way he moved left no doubt that he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

Your thrusts were just helping him get his impending victory, but you couldn’t help it any longer. He was clenching around your cock on purpose, making sure you were losing your control without any fight.

Your hands gripped his waist as soon as he picked up the pace, “You’re twitching already?” He teased, voice dripping with condescension. His breath ghosted over your cheek as he whispered, voice soft but full of mocking intent, “Can’t take it anymore, can you?”

Precum starts to dribble out of his hole, the evidence of your crumbling resolve bringing him satisfaction. “Poor thing,” He added, a chuckle slipping through his lips, “and here I thought you’d have more restraint.”

Scaramouche’s chuckles quickly change into breathy sounds of pleasure as your cock hits his prostate dead on. His fingers tightened on your shoulders, grounding himself from the unexpected pleasure.

“So desperate..mnhh♡–” He managed to murmur between breaths, though the quiver in his voice betrayed his earlier dominance, the sensation overwhelming him, leaving him as lost in the moment as you were.

His head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as another gasp broke through his control. “You’rengh–still pathetic..” He whispered, though the shiver in his tone made it clear he was no better.

“Hmn–ironic.” He glared at you for that. Your patience was wearing thin, and despite everything, your body couldn't stop reacting, your movements becoming more desperate. Consequences be damned, you’re teetering over the edge already. November comes around every year anyway, but coming inside Scaramouche might just be a once in a lifetime activity.

You were already where he wanted you to be right from the start, and for the last time, he smirked before losing himself in the overwhelming pleasure. A knot draws up in your abdomen, your thrusts growing erratic as you chase your climax.

"Don’t stop..hAngh–♡" Scaramouche gasped, voice breaking as you pushed your body into his, meeting his every move with urgency. “F-Faster–go faster!” he stammered, but the need for more was clear in his frantic pace.

With one final thrust, you released yourself inside him, ropes of cum spurting out as he came on your stomach at the same time.

The two of you collapsed into each other’s arms, chests heaving as you tried to catch your breaths after everything that transpired.

As the haze of pleasure began to fade, reality sank in like a cruel reminder. Shame and irritation bubbled in your mind as the thought hit you—you really lost No Nut November because Scaramouche rode you.

“This was.. so lame.” You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder.

Scaramouche heard your muttered complaint loud and clear, a raspy chuckle escaping his lips as he tilted his head to look at you. “Seeing you lose made it worth it.” But amidst his relentless teasing, you can feel him grinding on your cock, pushing your cum deeper inside him.

[xoxo-ada]

singers, starlets, and surfers, oh my! (smau)

INTRODUCTION

singer!rafe cameron x actress!reader, surfer!jj maybank x actress!reader

| DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE. reblogs are fine and appreciated! |

DISCLAIMER: in this story y/n is described as female, however it is up to you what she looks like!

summary: y/n's fans ship the actress with not one, but two other celebrities. one of them being her ex jj maybank from back when she lived in kildare, and the second, rafe cameron, her best friend's brother who she shares complicated history with. what will happen when the overwhelming support (and hate) start getting to all three of their heads?

series masterlist

y/n y/l/n

an actress best known for her roles in little women, priscilla, anyone but you, and challengers. she grew up in kildare, - as a pogue of course - best friends with john b, jj, kiara, and pope. jj and her were together for a while, but ultimately ended things. once john b and sarah were a thing her and y/n grew super close, and her and rafe shared some... complicated times. y/n's main life goal was to make money - to get off the cut - doing what she loved; acting.

jj maybank

a competitive surfer known for winning almost every competition he steps foot into. obviously grew up on the cut with the pogues, and also made it out by doing what he loves. still friends with his ex, y/n, but wishes things hadn't ended the way they did. just living life one day at a time!

rafe cameron

a rock/pop singer - in a two man band with his best friend topper thornton - who pretty much has never let go of anything ever. that must be why he holds so many grudges. he comes from a bit of a troubling past, but also comes from a lot of money, so it wasn't too hard for him to break into the industry with a combo of his talent and his last name. always had a bit of a thing for his sister's best friend, who is now one of the internet's favorite actresses.

a/n: eeeek you guys! i'm so excited to start this smau for you all! i've been on a kick of binge reading other peoples, so i hope this can bring you guys some entertainment as well :)

[lovemybluebully]

Wade dragging a featherduster up and down Logan's shaking stomach would definitely drive him wild, especially if he'd brush it all over his bellybutton and ribs. All the while, Wade's other gloved hand is tickling his upper ribs/armpits while cooing at him "Coochie Coo, little honey badger~"

I see something like this happening if Wade catches Logan when he's drunk and gets the idea to play his ego against him. He's already been casually poking Logan's ribs as they banter with Logan chuckling and weakly swatting at him with the most delayed reactions before Wade spots the feather duster laying out nearby. Then he sets the bait.

"Ha! You? Uh uh. Sorry, but no way, Peanut. There's not a chance in Hell that you'd be able to keep your arms up while I use that on your tummy."

Logan snorts and rolls his eyes as he pounds down the rest of the liquor bottle he's been drinking.

"Pffff, gotta be fucking kiddin' me, Mouth. Do you know who the fuck I am? I'd barely even feel that shit."

"I know exactly who you are, which is how I know you wouldn't be able to stand it. You're practically a living Tickle Me Elmo," Wade reaches over and gently scribbles fingers over his stomach to make him giggle and prove his point, smirking at seeing how easily Logan took the bait.

Cue Logan's drunken bravado prompting him to plop down somewhere and rip his shirt off over his head before laying down in all his hairy, muscly bare-chested gloriness and folding his arms behind his head.

"Well go on then. Do your worst, motherfucker."

He definitely doesn't have to tell Wade twice.

Logan is very used to the rough tickling that Wade normally inflicts on him, but this is something totally new. As soon as those feathers make first contact to swish across his belly his nerves are already lit on fire, yanking a gasping giggle from the back of his throat. His stubborn pride is in no way letting him back out of this though.

Back and forth, up and down, the feathers brush over his deceptively vulnerable abs and Logan is bucking and squirming and squealing out flurries of giggles. He's rolling on his back, trying to suck in his tummy to give him a micro-second of relief, but the feathers are only then dragged up the ribs of whatever side he's given up at the time.

Since Wade had first discovered that he was ticklish, he has carefully mapped out ever hot spot on the man's skin and knows exactly where to target. He goes back and forth, twirling the feather duster in each armpit as Logan's laughter goes wild and he thrashes around. His arms shake and tremble from the strain of wanting to pull them down so badly, but he does not falter.

Though Logan nearly loses it completely when Wade plucks free a single feather and starts swirling it around and deep inside his navel, all the while using playful teases to try to get him to break mentally.

"Coochie coo, big guy. Are the big, bad feathers too tickly for the cutie little honey badger? Hmm? Oh my, listen to that squealing. That must tickle pretty bad, huh? Let's say we try these between your toes next time."

Despite everything, Logan defies the odds and somehow finds the strength inside him to keep his arms up the entire time and Wade finally decides to concede after he realizes he's been tickling him for like twenty minutes now. 🤭

"Okay okay, fine. You've proved me wrong. I guess you win this one, tough guy," Wade stops as he puts the feather duster aside with a half-dead, panting Logan now giving him the biggest, cockiest smirk of all time.

"Told ya....asswipe. What.....What do I win?"

Wade hadn't really thought of a proper trophy, but knew there was only one acceptable answer.

"This," Wade's grin grows equally as big as he grabs Logan's ribs with his itching fingers and tickles viciously up them right into his deathly sensitive armpits. The X-man explodes into hysterics and still tries to keep his arms up to assert to Wade how tough he really is, but that glory only lasts for a few moments before his arms come slamming down.

Still the alcohol in his body keeps his mood light and his ego is back out once again in full force to taunt Wade to the max.

"Thaaahaat all you gohahahahot, fuck faahaace?! Wh-Who's thahahahat ticklin' mehehehe?! Wade?! Ohohor my fuhuhuhuckin' grandmahaha?! Aaaahaheheheheheh! I'm abohohohout to f-fahahall asleeheeheep here!"

Wade really loves him a drunk Wolvie. 💗🍻💛

[nights-at-crystarium]

my blorbos as animals

I wanna make one of these posts too :3c Disclaimer: these are highly specific hcs applicable to their versions in Fragments.

Vivi's a ferret and a borzoi. Borzoi's more of a general elezen spirit animal that I highly approve of. Somehow simultaneously looks like it has every illness and will crumble from the gentlest breeze of wind, and yet, it possesses a mesmerizing, otherworldly kind of beauty and grace. An aristocrat. A very special kind of a dog that makes you laugh, adore, or feel uneasy just because it's so bizarre. Upon closer inspection, Vivi has the fucked up little guy energy typical to ferrets. He's not that much of a threat, but a lot, a lot of chaos. Permanent wiggle.

Raha, despite ostensibly being a cat, is actually a dog. A husky dog. A fine and valuable specimen, very sociable, can be a friend, can carry people, can win races while carrying people. Full of energy, can't sit in one place. Resilient and sturdy. Smart, competent, but also idiot. Big fuckin idiot. Freaky eyes.

Emet's a rat that's also a cat that's also a bird (shoebill) but, for the sake of picking one thing that I can characterize well, he's a house cat to me. Spoiled, cranky, full of malice, can cause immense chaos and destruction, but in the end will let his owner pick him up and wiggle him. Afterwards, perhaps, he'd pee in the owner's shoe as revenge.

Alisaie's a serval cat. Long but still smol, looks deceptively cute but watch out, this mf is feral. Solitary, graceful, leaps around a lot, an excellent killer.

Feo Ul is a..... crow. A part of a big group but an independent thinker, a faithful companion, will remember you forever - be that for the better or for the worse. Enigmatic mages and other dark and edgy fantasy figures are often seen with a crow. Associated with death (if you interpret the WoD as Death in the First, this makes sense). Incredibly smart, even more mischievous, lives to have fun. Their voice isn't to everyone's liking. A group of crows is called murder.

[brionysea]

Is it just me or did Vi really not get an arc this season 😭? She doesn’t resolve the fact that she places all her worth on protecting those she loves. A lot of her big emotional beats (joining the enforcers, becoming a pit fighter, finding Vander, freeing Jinx and getting imprisoned for all her efforts) happened as a result of Caitlyn or Jinx’s intervention. She has so much oldest sister syndrome she infected the narrative 😇

yes! I think it's an issue of flawed ideas and poor execution. in classic me fashion, I'll go through the whole thing to show you what I mean:

vi joining the enforcers despite everything they've done to her (killing her parents, roughing up her family as kids, chasing them down, coming into the last drop to arrest them and intimidating everyone and almost taking powder, imprisoning and abusing and starving vi for her entire adolescence) because caitlyn asked her to and caitlyn is the Most Important Person in her life right now is the exact kind of thing vi would do. I personally love how temporary the enforcer gig is, despite that going against the lore (I honestly couldn't care less), because vi's CHARACTER in this show goes against the lore. I don't care that she's supposed to be an enforcer in the game. I'm not playing a game. I'm watching a show. the vi I know wouldn't do that, it makes no sense for her character, and it really feels like that's the point. she's losing herself for the sake of what caitlyn wants in a very clever way to address whoever demanded the show be more accurate to the game (which, again, I AM NOT PLAYING. BECAUSE THIS IS A SHOW THAT'S MORE THAN CAPABLE OF STANDING ON ITS OWN) without betraying the characters. this is the kind of freedom that would have made for a truly stellar season: going where the story is led naturally by its characters rather than being trapped by a pre-determined narrative

then in vi's fight with jinx (which, fine, I guess vi *would* decide that 'jinx isn't powder anymore' means 'my sister is dead'; she's single minded like that, even if it felt rushed), there's suddenly a random child in the crossfire and vi's like oh. okay. I can't actually hurt innocent children the way I was hurt. I do, in fact, have principles, and they dictate that I intervene rather than allow this to play out. and it turns out that when the chips are down caitlyn doesn't actually care about the undercity because she risked killing an innocent child and wants to kill jinx knowing she's vi's sister (and said that jinx, a young mentally ill girl from the undercity, killing caitlyn's mother, one of the richest and most powerful women in piltover, is the same as vi's parents being killed by enforcers while fighting to end the oppressive social order they enforce. it's not.) and basically says that she thought vi was 'one of the good ones' but she's exactly like all those other animals (again, because vi refused to let cait open fire on a child), before literally gut-punching her and leaving her there. vi was right before, they're oil and water, they're too different. and now vi's lost her sister; lost cait; the rest of her family is still dead. she has no money. no power. nowhere to go. nobody to protect. what's even the point of her?

and then we reach the second act. vi has no purpose so she's like well I'm just gonna fight people for money. because she'll win. obviously. she's a mess, she's drinking all the time, she's seeing jinx and caitlyn everywhere (people really breeze over how vi sees things too - definitely to a lesser degree than jinx, but when she hits rock bottom, it's there). I love this set up for vi. it makes so much sense that putting all her energy into caring for others would end up here. like a message from the universe that she needs to learn to do things for herself or she'll always end up back in this hole. you could argue that vi not having a lot of agency and just following jinx or caitlyn around until she ends up stuck in that cell (her ✨️ prison of the mind ✨️ or whatever jinx's imaginary, out of character, ghost silco was talking about), while boring (so boring), is more of vi being stubborn and stuck in her ways and refusing to learn her lesson until she's forced to. which she was also like in season 1, except there, it was more like vi repeatedly trying to solve problems that were much too big to be punched away by punching them (vi thought jinx could brute force her way out of being traumatised), and even then, I didn't get the impression that vi cared enough about the council to actually give up on jinx because of what she did to them. vi's a brick wall of a woman. sometimes, in this bitch of a world, stubbornness is a virtue

the problem, like a lot of things that had potential in season 2, is that it's not actually followed through on. there's no self actualisation for vi. she just cares about jinx until she doesn't and then she has sex with cait (who does not actually atone for any of the shit she did btw) in the prison cell where vi's sister was just planning suicide and is currently going through with it elsewhere, as far as vi knows

I think the intention was for vi having sex with cait instead of chasing after jinx to be the first selfish thing in her life (which jinx basically told her to do, because no one hates piltover anymore even though they haven't changed at all or done anything to earn this 'meet us halfway' demand of feeling entitled to zaun's bodies for their war after poisoning those same bodies for who knows how long. jinx never called vi an idiot for dating an enforcer. in fact, she feels bad for nuking the council :( which means she's good now! 👍 because GOOD characters are NICE to piltover and only BIG MEANIES care about zaun's independence. even silco's ghost thinks it's a waste of time! apparently he was just bitter and unloved, like a child throwing a tantrum! sure. sure! why not!), but it falls apart immediately because 1) jinx told vi she's going to kill herself (vi knew what jinx was planning before she asked, you can hear the fear in her voice), which obviously takes priority - never in a million years would vi let jinx disappear like that without doing anything about it, no matter how self actualised she is, because STOPPING YOUR SISTER FROM COMMITTING SUICIDE IS A NORMAL THING TO DO. well, maybe not normal, but you know what I mean. it's not exclusively a vi-ism. it's common sense. if someone you love tells you they're going to commit suicide, you do everything in your power to prevent it. and 2) CAIT IS NOT ACTUALLY REDEEMED FROM ALL THE SHIT SHE DID TO THE UNDERCITY. yes, cait letting jinx escape was symbolic of her letting go of the obsession that drove her to that point, but she didn't actually hurt jinx (except now jinx is free to off herself because of cait, which vi would be angry about if she hadn't spontaneously forgotten what she learned in the previous scene). despite her personal vendetta, cait couldn't catch jinx to even attempt to hurt her. who she DID hurt was the undercity at large, and she has no way of making up for that. they dropped the zaun plotline like a hot potato so there's no narrative opportunity for cait to prove to vi (and to the audience) that she gets it now. that she's done being a fascist and vi isn't just blinded by her hotness (which would be a strange angle to take but that's honestly what it seems like. it's so shallow and out of place with everything going on). none of this is earned enough for vi to choose a quickie in a cell over stopping her suicidal sister from blowing herself up

TLDR; there was an attempt at an arc, which was foiled by tying it so closely to caitvi, which was tied to the politics of the piltover-zaun conflict, which was never resolved and thus made vi's arc feel unsatisfying

[estellan0vella]

Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Thirty One: Sounds Illegal As Fuck SS: 11 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 3K Content Warnings: Previous Next Masterlist

Minho is sitting at a corner table in the university cafeteria, poking at a chicken wrap with disinterest. Hyunjin is sitting across from him, twirling his straw in his iced latte while Chan and Changbin are in a heated debate about who would win in a fight: a bear or a Komodo dragon. Seungmin is scrolling through his phone, unbothered as usual, while Jeongin is trying and failing to hide his laughter at Changbin’s increasingly ridiculous bear impersonation.

Chan looks at his watch and frowns. “Where the fuck are the three criminology nerds? Their lecture ended like fifteen minutes ago. Don’t they know lunch is sacred? I mean I know their lecturer is keeping them behind but fifteen minutes is excessive”

“Maybe Hayun’s doing her usual, losing herself in a rabbit hole,” Hyunjin says, slurping his drink obnoxiously. “Felix probably followed her to make sure she doesn’t trip over her own feet.”

“And Jisung’s probably helping her dig,” Changbin adds, leaning back in his chair with a lazy smirk. “Those three are either like one brain cell divided between them or the smartest people in the room, there's no in between”

Before anyone can respond, the cafeteria doors slam open, and Jisung bolts in, looking frantic. He spots Minho and runs straight over. “Minho! You have to come with me. Now.”

Minho straightens, already alert. “What’s going on?”

“Just come on!” Jisung grabs Minho’s wrist, tugging him up so abruptly that Minho nearly knocks over his tray. The others rise instinctively, exchanging confused glances before following Jisung, who is practically dragging Minho toward the criminology department.

“Jisung, what the hell is going on?” Minho presses, his tone sharp, but Jisung doesn’t slow down.

“You need to see this,” Jisung says, his voice low but urgent. His usual cheeky, upbeat demeanour is completely absent, replaced with something raw and serious.

The group trails through the corridors, Hyunjin, Jeongin, Changbin and Chan jogging to keep up. “If this is another one of your dumb pranks, I swear-” Changbin starts, but the tension in Jisung’s expression shuts him up.

When they reach the criminology department, there’s already a crowd gathered around the large bulletin board by the lecture hall. People are snapping pictures, murmuring among themselves. Minho pushes through the throng with Jisung guiding him, the rest of the group on his heels.

Standing at the edge of the scene are Hayun and Felix. Hayun is still, her arms crossed, her face unreadable. Felix is glaring at anyone who so much as glances in Hayun’s direction. Minho feels his stomach churn as he pushes past the last few onlookers and sees what’s on the board.

A crude voodoo doll meant to resemble Hayun is pinned to the corkboard with large needles sticking through it. Its fabric is soaked with a red liquid that drips onto the floor, forming small, eerie puddles. Above the doll, in large, jagged letters painted in the same red liquid, are the words:

JANG HAYUN IS A DEAD GIRL WALKING

Underneath, another line reads:

SONG MINGI’S WHORE

Tacked next to the writing is a confidential police report. One of Mingi’s interviews with the authorities, where he names Hayun as his youngest victim.

The sight feels like a punch to Minho’s gut. He reaches for Hayun immediately, pulling her into his arms and trying to turn her head away from the display.

“Don’t look,” he says softly, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. “Don’t look at that shit, Princess.”

But Hayun doesn’t let him shield her. Her voice is steady, almost unnervingly calm. “Minho, it’s fine. It’s just some idiot with too much time on their hands, a talent for hacking police files and some red paint”

Minho grips her tighter, his jaw clenching. “Hayun, I don’t think that’s paint.”

Chan steps forward, his expression thunderous. “If I see another person take a picture, I’m gonna start smashing phones.”

Changbin stands beside him, arms crossed. “You heard him! Get lost, assholes!” His voice booms, scattering the crowd like startled birds.

Meanwhile, Seungmin returns with campus security, who start directing the remaining students away. Hayun sighs as she watches the scene unfold, her calm demeanour unwavering.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, stepping back from Minho’s embrace. “Just take it down. The police aren’t going to do shit about it anyway. They’re already pissed we made them look bad by solving Chaeryeong’s case and clearing her name.”

She walks toward the board, grabs the voodoo doll without hesitation, and tosses it into the nearest trash can. Her movements are deliberate, almost defiant. “The paint or blood or whatever it is another story, though, I can't clean that off,” she mutters, glancing at the red streaks on the floor.

As the security guards work to remove the rest of the display, Felix steps up beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You’re handling this a lot better than I would.”

Hayun gives him a faint smile. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve seen.”

Minho approaches, standing so close their shoulders brush. “Still, it’s not something you should have to deal with.” He reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not leaving your side until we figure out who did this.”

Hayun glances at him, her lips quirking up in a wry smile. “Thanks, Min.”

Chan walks over, arms crossed. “I swear to God if we find out who did this-”

“You won’t have to,” Hayun interrupts. “We’ve got bigger things to focus on. This?” She gestures to the remnants of the display. “This is just noise.”

But as Minho looks at the red-streaked board and the confidential police report, he knows it’s more than that. And whoever’s behind it isn’t just making noise. They’re sending a message.

The group leaves the university building in tense silence. Minho strides toward his car, tossing his keys in the air. Hayun follows him closely, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of the oversized sweater she’s borrowed from Minho.

Jisung, Jeongin, and Felix trail behind, their steps heavier with worry. Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Seungmin peel off toward Chan's car, murmuring among themselves.

Minho swings open the driver’s door of his car, glancing at Hayun as she slides into the passenger seat. "Let’s get coffee," he mutters, starting the car with a low growl. Jisung, Jeongin, and Felix pile into the backseat, squeezing into the limited space.

Hayun glances at him, raising an eyebrow. “Fancy coffee or basic coffee?”

Minho shoots her a look, his lips twitching into a faint smirk despite himself. “You know what I’m ordering, princess.”

Jisung leans forward from the backseat, grinning faintly. “Bet it’s a basic bitch iced americano.”

“Fuck off, Jisung,” Minho retorts, though his tone is lighter.

When they reach the drive-through, Minho orders his iced americano with a dramatic sigh. Hayun leans over to order her hazelnut honeycomb frappuccino with an extra shot. Jisung and Jeongin shout their iced americano orders over each other, while Felix calmly requests a peach iced tea.

“You’re all fucking parasites,” Minho grumbles, handing over his card. “I should start charging you assholes for gas.”

Hayun grins, sipping her drink. “And emotional labour. Don’t forget that.”

“Yeah, you should bill Hayun specifically,” Jisung chimes in, snickering. “The girl’s got baggage.”

Hayun flips him off without looking back. Minho smirks, resting his hand lightly on her knee. “I’ll take it,” he says, his voice low enough that only she hears.

The house feels heavy with tension as Hayun walks into the kitchen. She doesn’t hesitate, grabbing her hazelnut honeycomb frappuccino and pouring a generous amount of Bailey’s into it. The rich, creamy aroma wafts up as she stirs it with slow, deliberate motions, her mind racing.

She takes a long sip, the alcohol cutting through the sweetness and soothing some of the tension that’s been gripping her chest since the incident at the university.

Behind her, the others trickle into the kitchen, their faces drawn tight with concern. Minho’s presence at her side is immediate, his hand briefly brushing her lower back as if to silently ask, Are you okay? She doesn’t answer, just leans slightly into his touch.

Chan’s group enters moments later, Chan immediately zeroing in on the growing group. “Alright,” he says, clapping his hands once, his tone brisk. “What the fuck’s the plan?”

Hayun shrugs, leaning back against the counter with a sigh. “What can we do? Report it to the cops?” She snorts derisively, shaking her head. “They already hate us. We’ve been on their shit list since we started digging into Chaeryeong’s case.”

Jisung, pacing in the narrow space near the sink, stops mid-step and throws his hands up. “You can’t just shrug this shit off, Hayun! Someone hacked into a police database and used fucking blood to send a death threat. That’s not just some bored college kid pulling a prank. That’s serious psycho energy.” His voice is sharper than usual, panic and anger bubbling to the surface.

Minho’s face hardens, but his tone remains calm, measured. “If it’s that elaborate, it’s not Mr. Shin,” he says, taking a slow sip of his americano. “The guy’s a cop. He wouldn’t risk being that blatant. He’s smarter than that.”

Jeongin tilts his head, his brow furrowed in thought. “But what if it’s not him directly? Could be someone connected to Mingi, right? Someone who’s pissed about him going down or scared they’re next. If Hayun’s name is tied to Mingi’s trial-”

“Which it is,” Felix cuts in, his voice even but sharp, “then yeah, she’s a fucking target. They’d come after her first to send a message.”

Seungmin, perched on a stool by the island, raises an eyebrow. “But why just Hayun? If they wanted to scare us off, wouldn’t it make more sense to target all of us? You know, spread the fear around?”

Hyunjin, who’s lazily sitting on the counter and twirling his iced latte, points at the group with his straw. “Hayun’s the linchpin. She’s the one who planted the seeds to frame Mingi for Yuna's murder. If they know that-”

“They shouldn’t fucking know that!” Minho snaps as he slams his coffee cup onto the counter. The sound reverberates through the room, silencing everyone. He turns to Hayun, his dark eyes intense. “Princess, is there anything you’ve done that might’ve made you their target? Anything you haven’t told us?”

Hayun blinks up at him, startled by the weight of his stare. “I don’t know why this is happening.”

Minho’s jaw flexes as he leans back against the counter, his frustration simmering just below the surface. “We need answers. Fast.”

Chan steps forward, folding his arms. “If it’s someone tied to Mingi, we start there. We dig through his connections, find out who he was working with, who had the most to lose when he went down. That’s where we’ll find our culprit.”

“And how exactly do we dig?” Changbin asks, his tone sceptical as he leans against the fridge. “We don’t exactly have access to his Facebook friends list.”

Jeongin’s face lights up with determination. “We hack”

“Sounds illegal as fuck,” Seungmin mutters, though there’s no judgment in his tone.

“So is painting threats in blood,” Jisung fires back, his voice brimming with barely restrained anger. “I’m fucking done playing nice. Whoever did this doesn’t get to just walk away.”

“Ji...” Hayun’s voice is soft, and she steps closer to him, her hand reaching out to rest on his arm. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” Jisung shouts, yanking his arm away, his eyes blazing. “It’s not okay, Hayun. You keep acting like you can handle this shit on your own, but you shouldn’t have to. They came after you today, but what if it’s Felix next? Or Jeongin? Or Minho? Or me?”

The room goes quiet, Jisung’s words hanging heavy in the air. Minho clears his throat, his voice low and dangerous. “Let them try.”

Hayun places a hand on his arm now, grounding him in the same way she’d tried with Jisung. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need to figure out who’s behind it before we go all vigilante.”

Chan nods, his tone decisive. “Agreed. First step: gather intel. We’ve got the skills, the tools, and more than enough motivation.”

Felix raises his peach iced tea in a mock toast. “To us: the broke, overworked Scooby-Doo gang.”

Hyunjin snickers. “If we’re Scooby-Doo, who’s Shaggy?”

“Jisung,” Jeongin and Minho say in unison.

“Fuck you guys,” Jisung mutters, though there’s the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

The room relaxes, but the tension never fully dissipates. As Chan begins assigning tasks, Minho catches Hayun’s eye. He leans closer, his voice soft but firm. “You’re not doing this alone. Not now, not ever. Got it?”

Hayun looks at him, her expression unreadable for a moment, before she nods. “Got it.”

But even as she says it, Minho can see the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the part of her that still believes she has to carry this burden on her own. And he silently promises himself that he won’t let her face this fight alone. Not ever.

A few hours later, the living room is a cacophony of chaos, wine bottles and whiskey glasses strewn across the coffee table like casualties of war. The air is thick with laughter, half-shouted arguments, and the occasional clink of glass against glass.

Hayun is curled up on Minho’s lap in the loveseat, her legs tucked to the side, her black yoga shorts and fluffy socks making her look comfortably at home against his body.

Minho’s arm is looped securely around her waist, his hand resting on her hip as if to anchor her there. In his free hand, he holds a glass of whiskey that threatens to spill every time he gestures too emphatically.

“Listen,” Minho begins, his voice rising as his whiskey glass wavers dangerously in the air, “I’m just saying, Edmund is the fucking worst. Absolute worst. Who the fuck betrays their family for a box of Turkish Delight? Powdered sugar? Really?”

Chan bursts into laughter. “We’re still doing this? Minho, it’s been a week! A whole-ass week. Let it go!”

“Never,” Minho retorts, pointing at Chan with his glass as though he’s delivering a divine proclamation. “I hated him in The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, and I thought, maybe, just maybe, he’d redeem himself in Prince Caspian. But nope. Still a little shit.”

Hayun, her face buried in her wine glass, starts to laugh so hard her shoulders shake. Minho glances down at her and narrows his eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, but she can’t stop giggling.

“He’s not that bad,” she finally manages, her voice tinged with amusement. “By the end of the trilogy, he grows a lot. You’re just being dramatic.”

Minho jerks back, scandalized. “Not that bad? Not that bad?! Princess, were we even watching the same movies? The guy fucked up every single situation he touched!”

On the couch, Chan sprawls with one leg propped up on the armrest, swirling the wine in his glass. He groans loudly. “For fuck’s sake, Minho, it’s a kids’ movie. Get a grip. Cut the guy some slack.”

Minho slams his glass down on the coffee table with a thud. “No. I don’t care if it’s for kids. Edmund deserved to get his ass kicked by Aslan. And not just once, multiple times. That’s character development.”

Jeongin, lounging on the armchair with a blanket draped over his lap, grins wickedly. “You must have hated Eustace, then.”

“Don’t even get me started on Eustace!” Minho exclaims, throwing up his hands. “That little fucker was worse than Edmund. At least Edmund was manipulated by the Witch. Eustace? Eustace was just a dick for no reason.”

Felix snorts into his wine glass, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “The dragon redemption arc didn’t fix anything for you, huh?”

“Not a damn thing,” Minho replies, shaking his head vehemently. “He was a shithead before, and he was a shithead after. Turning into a dragon doesn’t erase that.”

Hyunjin, perched delicately on the arm of the couch like a cat surveying its domain, raises a hand. “Alright, but can we all agree that Prince Caspian is hot as fuck?”

The room erupts into drunken agreement, voices overlapping in a chaotic chorus of dreamy sighs and affirmations. Chan leans forward, nodding vigorously. Felix dramatically clutches his chest like he’s about to faint. Even Jeongin raises his wine glass in silent approval.

Minho stares at the group, his jaw dropping. He turns to Hayun, who’s giggling into her glass. “Not again,” he groans, dragging his hand down his face. “I already had to deal with you drooling over him when we watched the movies. I’m not doing this twice.”

Hayun grins. “Minho, we’re not even watching the movies right now.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Minho declares, covering her eyes with one hand. “You’re not seeing him again. Not on my watch.”

Felix raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You know she already knows what he looks like, right? This is pointless.”

Minho shrugs, still holding his hand over Hayun’s eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I’m protecting her from bad accents and worse decisions.”

“Stop being a fucking buzzkill, Minho,” Felix says, rolling his eyes. “She’s allowed to find Caspian hot.”

“Not while she’s sitting on my lap,” Minho counters. “Levi Ackerman? Fine. He’s 2D. But Prince Caspian? Fuck no.”

Jisung, already tipsy and emboldened, smirks. “Still haven’t asked her to be your girlfriend, though. So maybe you don’t get a say.”

Minho shoots him a death glare. “And you haven’t asked Hyunjin to be your boyfriend, so maybe shut the fuck up, dickhead.”

Jisung flushes, his bravado deflating as Hyunjin smirks and ruffles his hair. “Minho, you’re such an asshole,” Jisung mutters, louder this time when Hyunjin starts laughing at him.

Hayun pulls Minho’s hand away from her face, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “For the record,” she says, setting her wine glass down, “I already told him I’m not going to be his girlfriend until he watches Harry Potter.”

“That’s so fucking ridiculous,” Minho groans, leaning back against the loveseat and dragging Hayun with him. 

“No, it’s not!” everyone shouts in unison, their drunken solidarity palpable.

“Fucking finally,” Chan shouts. “Someone with standards!”

“That’s not fucking ridiculous,” Jeongin adds. “That’s basic human decency.”

“Watch the damn movies, Minho,” Felix insists, throwing a piece of popcorn at him.

Minho groans, leaning back into the loveseat and dragging Hayun with him. “You’re all insufferable.”

Hayun laughs, patting his chest as she rests her head against him. “It’s okay, Min. I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll even make popcorn.”

Minho looks down at her, his gaze softening despite himself. “You’re too fucking sweet, you know that?”

Felix raises his glass in a mock toast. “To Hayun: the only person who can tolerate Minho’s bullshit.”

“Cheers to that!” everyone shouts, their laughter filling the room. Minho rolls his eyes, but the faint smile tugging at his lips gives him away. 

I originally wasn't going to post this until tomorrow but I had to because your girl is going to see Stray Kids in LONDON!

Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount @lily-loves-kpop @stilldontknowhoiam

@ziggy1221 @justaspoonofjam @tr-mha-fan @candycurshidkwhatthehell

@heeseungspookie @smigcrazy @skzstannie @nightmarenyxx @beaann

[starlost-mochi-x]

lonely st. series finale ✧ chapter x : a new dawn

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)

warnings: mentions of injuries, lil bit angsty, some romance (not saying who but it's a surprise!), sad jisung :(( he's the best, i can't be bothered to write any more warnings. also i have no clue how basketball works so any basketballer stays out there pls don't come for me

a/n: it's done! i cried writing this last chapter but the ending is worth it i swear. thank you so much for all of the love, it means the world, and i'm so glad to have written this series for all of you <3 please read this post before you open this chapter if you haven't already 💫

series masterlist | skz masterlist

Hyunjin leapt and shot a hoop for the umpteenth time; he glanced over at the closed double doors of the gym as the ball thudded against the ground.

The gym was quiet and dark; the lights were turned off, and Hyunjin could only see because of the moonlight that spilled into the room from the high windows, unobstructed by other buildings and illuminating the lines and boundaries of the court.

Retrieving the ball, he sat down in the middle of the court, glancing around the darkened gym. He wasn't supposed to be in there to begin with; it was eleven pm and he was supposed to be in bed, sleeping.

Yet again, he hadn't been able to.

Feeling so restless that even sleepy Jeongin began to become disturbed by his tossing and turning, he'd decided to take a walk and figured that it wouldn't have hurt to shoot a few hoops to try and tire himself out. The last game of the tournament was tomorrow; they'd be heading back to school early and competing there.

Hyunjin contemplated his performance so far; he'd done pretty well, and worked harder than he'd thought he could. Every game except one which was a draw, they'd won so far.

There was one match left and Hyunjin had no intention of breaking the winning streak. Not when he and his teammates had worked so inexplicably hard.

He touched the bandage on his wrist, deep in thought; the friction burn was healing, and the bruise was beginning to fade, little by little, but after five whole days, there had been no real improvement. His wrist still hurt when he moved it too far to the left and it ached dully when he flexed his forearm.

He'd been told to leave the bandage on so as to prevent infection; at first, he hadn't minded, but soon the addition of the wrap to his body had become nothing more than a constant nuisance, something he'd had to stop and adjust during games.

The nurse who had wrapped it to begin with had given him a sling, or brace of some sorts; it was sleek and black, wrapping up his forearm and securing at the base of his thumb. He didn't wear it during the night, but he smiled at the memory of when he'd shown it to his teammates.

"It looks like a spy glove," Jeongin had told him with a grin.

Hyunjin wasn't sure what that had meant, but at least it had made little foxy Innie smile. He flexed his fingers absentmindedly, realising that the younger member hadn't been as happy as he had been at the start of the tournament.

They were doing just fine in terms of the competition, but Hyunjin knew his team members well, and if the evidence of overwhelming, strained practices and sleepless nights was enough to go by, he could tell they all just wanted to go home.

He felt the exact same way; the last few days had stung more and more without Y/n. He'd told her everything that had happened as often as he could, whether it was over the phone or through text.

He found he liked calling her better; it was nice hearing her voice, especially when he put it on speaker and let her tone float around him. It was like she was sitting right beside him as he talked about everything that had happened.

Deciding to get up and head back to bed, he put the basketball back into the netted ball bins near the door and slipped out of the gym, pressing the large flat button to raise the hoop. It ascended into the ceiling with a soft whirring sound and Hyunjin slipped round the corridor, walking towards his dorm.

He checked the time; he'd been gone for about an hour and a half. Hopefully the other members were asleep by now, and if he was lucky, he would be able to dress down and slip into bed before anyone even stirred.

Checking round the corner for any potential adults or figures of authority, Hyunjin hurried silently down the hallway to his dorm. It wasn't like anyone was out this time of night, but he still felt wary, and he couldn't help but think what might happen if any of the coaches if they caught him sneaking around in the dead of night.

Quietly opening the door to his dorm room and flinching at the click of the lock, he slipped inside and shut it as quietly as possible. The room was dark; he froze for a second, trying to determine whether anyone was awake. Hearing nothings but soft breathing and the occasional shuffle from Jeongin's bunk, he tiptoed over the his corner of the room, toeing off his socks and gently placing them down next to his sneakers.

It was completely dark in the room; Hyunjin stretched a hand in front of his face and saw nothing. He squinted and tried to adjust his watering eyes to the pitch blackness of the room as he slipped off his hoodie, then his shirt.

It was freezing cold; the dorms usually became cold by night, therefore they'd been supplied with extra bedsheets and blankets, and been told to dress warm for the night, but Hyunjin quite liked not having layers on when he slept. He liked the feeling of the coolness against his skin; it seeped through his skin and made him feel light, airy, and clean.

It was especially welcome as the sweat cooled and evaporated off of his skin; it meant he didn't have to freshen up. Now standing in nothing but his usual shorts, he felt his way to his bottom bunk, clumsily settling into the sheets and turning to face the wall.

He jolted and let out a muffled yelp as someone rolled over and slung a warm arm around his middle. Recognising the size and build of it almost instantly, he let out a shaky breath.

"Shit, Felix," he whispered. "You scared me."

From behind him, Felix smirked so hard Hyunjin could almost hear it in the dimness of the room. "Sorry."

"Why are you in my bed and not yours, sleepy chicken?"

Felix tugged him closer, nuzzling his face into Hyunjin's nape and whispering into the skin. "I got cold and Innie told me to leave him alone. Jisung's dead to the world and he tends to unknowingly thwack me if I sleep next to him, so I came to your bunk. Surprise, you weren't there."

Hyunjin let out a soft scoff. "My bad."

"It is your bad," Felix agreed. "Out talking to Y/n again?"

Hyunjin stiffened slightly and lightly pinched Felix's hand, resting on his hip. "No. I couldn't sleep, so I went to shoot a couple hoops."

Felix hissed. "You could have gotten in so much trouble."

His friend let out a soft, exasperated noise. "I can't help it. Besides, I've had a lot to think about."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Felix's voice was soft and thoughtful, though a little teasing. "Like what?"

"The winning streak our team has. My forearm injury. Y/n. You. The mess with Jisung. Also, my hair's growing longer and I don't know how to cut it myself." Hyunjin blew a strand of it out of his eyes as if to demonstrate his point.

Felix chuckle softly, murmuring. "Maybe you should ask Y/n to cut it for you when you get back."

Hyunjin was silent for a moment. "I really miss her, Lix."

"I know. I miss her too."

Hyunjin turned and shuffled, facing his friend. Felix tangled their legs together for warmth, shivering. Noticing his discomfort, Hyunjin pulled him gently closer and brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, his voice becoming even softer than before.

"Do you think she really might like me?"

Felix nodded softly, the quiet brushing sound of his head against the pillow being Hyunjin's only confirmation. Quickly getting up to reach for his phone, which he'd thrown on the floor (Hyunjin swore he would never treat his own device like that) he settled back into his friend's bed and opened to his homescreen.

The sudden brightness made both boys hiss and Hyunjin let out a muffle groan. Felix, however, was undeterred, and navigated with watering eyes to his messages, where he opened up the chat he had with Y/n.

Turning his phone to Hyunjin, Felix pointed to several messages from her that had been sent not long ago.

"She sent these to me after I called her to check something back at home," he whispered. "It was really late, and she was crying."

Hyunjin's eyes widened as he realised the date. It was the almost exact same time and the same date from when she'd told him to look in his bag. Where he'd found the bandaids, and the little note she'd left for him inside the innermost pocket.

The exact same date, where she'd texted Felix crying, and the exact same date where Hyunjin had sat in the middle of the lamplit dorm, tears streaking down his cheeks as he'd cried to himself.

He cried because he had missed her, he wanted to see her, and he couldn't help the tidal wave of emotions that had surged over him after Y/n had ended the call; overwhelm, tiredness, longing, sadness. On top of all of that, she was just really sweet and the sentimentality of the gesture had brought tears to his eyes. Jisung had always joked about how soft he was for affectionate gestures, and Hyunjin was grudgingly beginning to see how he had a point.

He took Felix's phone and read through the messages from after the phone call with her had ended.

*call with 'y/nnie ⛓️' ended. call duration 00:01:43* lix 🌻: he'll be back soon, y/nnie. don't worry! y/nnie ⛓️: is he doing okay? lix 🌻: he's good i think lix 🌻: he was kinda upset a couple days ago because of all the pressure that's been heaped on him lix 🌻: and he's been a little tense y/nnie ⛓️: i could tell after we talked on the phone y/nnie ⛓️: he sounded really tired too lix 🌻: if his voice is anything to go by, you sound exhausted lix 🌻: but please don't cry y/nnie ⛓️: i'm sorry for calling you and disturbing you from whatever you were doing, lix lix 🌻: nonono don't be sorry!! i understand lix 🌻: i think he misses you too lix 🌻: ...but you already know that

Hyunjin turned the phone towards the real Felix laying beside him and glared at him pointedly.

"You gonna keep exposing me like this?" He whispered.

Felix whispered back accusingly. "I didn't say anything exposing to her. You literally told her you missed her."

"Oh, right. My bad."

Felix scoffed and it turned into a quiet laugh, muffled by Hyunjin's large hand over his mouth.

"Don't wake the others," he huffed out, though a smile teased the corners of his mouth.

His friend nodded, both of them bathed in the bright blue glow of Felix's phone screen, which was still held aloft between them in Hyunjin's hands.

"I really do miss her, Lix."

His friend's voice was soft. "I know. Are you planning to tell her, though? How you feel?"

Hyunjin sighed. "I want to, but I just don't know."

Felix propped himself up on his elbows and began stroking Hyunjin's hair out of his face. "If you don't tell her, she might go a long time without having you by her side. In that way."

"But I'd rather have her friendship than nothing at all," Hyunjin glanced at him desperately.

"Well, we're heading back tomorrow, for the final game, so maybe you can tell her then."

Hyunjin sighed and settled down further into the sheets, feeling heat radiating off of Felix's body. "Maybe."

From the other side of the room, Jisung, who had been silently listening from his bunk, closed his eyes, and slept.

Hyunjin sighed and pushed the ball bins back into the gym's storage cupboard. The boys' teams had spent the entire morning helping to clean and pack up the courts for the end of the tournament, and though it had initially sounded like an easy task, it turned out to be quite the opposite.

Hyunjin was sweating by the time he'd packed up his assigned area; he'd been told to check all of the storage cupboards and count the balls, before scouring the courts for any strays left over. He'd been running back and forth through the gyms all morning.

Wiping his forehead with a sweaty hand, he wondered where all of the others had gone. Each member had been given a set of different tasks, and though they had initially planned to leave for the school campus early in the morning, the date had been changed so that they were leaving later that afternoon.

Hyunjin didn't mind; he'd grown quite accustomed to the polished courts and the dorms where he'd spent so much time. He sat down in the middle of the court and leaned back on his hands. His wrist was almost healed; there was still a noticeable burn mark, and the inside of his forearm was painted in shades of fading purple and green.

He chuckled as a shout snapped him out of his thoughts; Jeongin had been sent to the gym next door to organize the basketball gear, and Hyunjin thought he heard a faint thudding, most likely the basketballs he'd spent all morning collecting tumbling out of the bins and onto the courts.

"Shit, Innie," he groaned aloud to himself. "That took me all morning."

Getting up, he stretched his hands far above his head, letting out another groan, and decided to go check on his younger member to see what kind of chaos he'd managed to cause this time.

Stepping out of the double doors and wincing at the sunlight that just so happened to be shining in his face, he shielded his eyes with a hand and began walking through the pathway that led to where Jeongin was. He passed another gym and paused as he heard a familiar laugh from inside.

Curiosity, or perhaps nosiness getting the best of him, he peeked into the gym, noticing two figures sprawled out on the polished wooden floors. Checking left and right, and then cautiously poking his head into the gym, he looked around, trying to find something he could hide behind.

Noticing a storage cupboard to the right, which had been left ajar, he braced himself and dropped to his hands and knees, glancing across to make sure he wasn't seen. He took off his sneakers too; the last thing he wanted was for Felix and his little girlfriend to hear him squeaking his way across the court.

He hoped the storage cupboard was empty; a quick glance around showed him that it was. Satisfied with his hiding spot, he poked his head a little around the door to spy on his friend.

He felt a little bit bad; after all, they assumed they were alone; but he couldn't help it.

Besides, Hyunjin thought with a grudging grin, It's about time he gets a girl.

The girl in question, who Hyunjin had previously assumed to be a volleyballer, was leaning against one of the basketball bins at her back, legs stretched out in front of her. Felix was leaning on one hand, nodding along attentively to something she was saying. Hyunjin bit his lip to keep the smile from his face; it was honestly really cute.

He watched as Felix reached up a hand to run it through his hair, his eyes not leaving the girl's face. She didn't look away either as his hand came down, suspiciously close to her own. She made to fake-stretch and rested her hand closer to his friends.

He rolled his eyes. Get on with it already, man.

Felix apparently must have heard his telepathic message, because he inched his hand forward, just barely touching hers. Hyunjin's smile grew as he saw her hand inch forward too, til their fingers were loosely laced together against the polished floor of the court.

Even though Hyunjin was a short distance away, he could see Felix's cheeks heating up, taking on a soft pink hue matching the girl's ears. If he was being honest with himself, Hyunjin was halfway through wanting to clap and cheer and halfway through wanting to throw up, but he kept quiet and hidden nonetheless.

Felix adjusted himself so he was a little closer; his fingers moved to lightly run his thumb along the back of the girl's hand. He was smiling as sincerely as Hyunjin had ever seen it. Even brighter than the sun. Was that possible?

He was busy pondering that thought when his vision came back into focus, just in time to see Felix press his mouth to hers.

Hyunjin's jaw dropped and he knew he should look away, give his friend privacy, but he was so enamoured by the sight of his forever-bitchless friend finally getting some game that all he could do was stare with his mouth open.

Felix tilted his head a little and brought a hand up to gently run it along the side of her face; the girl's hands were clutching at his shoulders and she was beginning to lean back. Felix blindly reached beside her head, still kissing her, and pushed the ball bin that she was leaning on away, sending it rolling back a metre. He leaned forward just as the girl leaned back, propping herself up on the floor.

O-kay, time to stop watching them now-!

Hyunjin turned and covered his mouth as he leant against the wall of the storage cupboard, in disbelief. He'd just seen his friend kissing a girl.

Hyunjin now had two choices; stay until they had finished with the lovey-dovey notions, or risk being seen as he left. He decided to stay in the storage cupboard after a moment of strategic thinking. If the faint sounds of kissing and sighing were anything to go by, they wouldn't be done for a while.

Looking around the small, dark room while he waited, Hyunjin noticed another door hidden behind a small rack of tennis equipment to his left. Getting up as quietly as he could, he moved to the door and turned the handle, wondering whether it led to a smaller cupboard.

It didn't. It led out into the sunshine, and Hyunjin realised it was the back door to the gym. He sighed in relief and shut the door behind himself.

Deciding to actually go and find Jeongin, and see if he needed any help, Hyunjin set off towards the other gym opposite, peeking inside just in case he happened to walk in on anyone else.

Jisung and Jeongin were inside, much to Hyunjin's relief, and he walked to them, feeling a bit shaky on his legs. They were sitting in the middle of the court, playing some sort of game on Jisung's phone, and apparently finished with their tasks. Hyunjin sighed thankfully; at least their jobs were done. He'd already decided not to tell them anything for fear of upsetting Felix.

Jeongin looked up as he approached, smiling. It dropped as he tilted his head at the older boy in concern.

"Captain, why is your face so red?"

The bus ride back to the school campus was long and uneventful; the boys had started off chattering and laughing, throwing snack wrappers at each other, and teasing other endlessly, but had eventually fallen silent as the ride progressed. Hyunjin sat next to Jeongin this time, Felix having decided to sit with Jisung.

Looking through the gap in the seats, Hyunjin noticed Felix smiling at his phone, his cheeks still a bit red. His hair was a little disheveled too and Hyunjin smiled to himself as he turned and leant back against his seat, closing his eyes.

At least someone had the guts to confess.

He looked out the window, contemplatively intertwining his hands as his brow furrowed, wondering what he should do. He had followed through with his plan so far; he'd grown closer to Y/n through texts an calls, and he had a slight feeling that she might like him, but he still wasn't any closer to finding out whether Jisung harboured any sort of affection towards her or not.

Truthfully, he hadn't been talking to him much, only when they were on the court. Otherwise, they'd only been talking when absolutely necessary, and as Hyunjin reflected, he began to feel guilty for how much he'd been neglecting his friend. He wondered if Jisung had any idea about what was going on. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't.

He could only hope it was the latter.

He knew for sure that Jisung had caught onto his avoidant behaviour; he'd overheard him talking to Felix about how he felt like he'd done something wrong, or perhaps said something that might have upset Hyunjin, and as a result, made his captain avoid him.

He'd felt pretty bad after that; Hyunjin kicked himself for letting the negative feelings fester in his heart for so long. He should have just talked to him about it. But there was still a part of him that felt that Jisung liked Y/n too, and if he knew that he had competition, things could have turned nasty between them.

And yes, Hyunjin liked Jisung, and he was a close friend, but Hyunjin had finally found a potential other half in Y/n, and he wasn't sure what he was willing to put on the line if it meant being on the receiving end of her affection.

Was it worth losing Jisung for Y/n?

Hyunjin groaned softly and let his head fall against the window, the vibrating sensation of the bus's movement reverberating through his head, shaking up his thoughts. It was still sunny outside, and he closed his eyes, letting the sunshine filter through onto his skin, painting the insides of his eyelids in a coral sheen.

He jolted as Jeongin's head fell slowly on his shoulder; looking down, he realised the younger boy had fallen asleep. Brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes, he kissed his friend's head affectionately and he decided to attempt to fall asleep himself, trying to get comfortable in his seat.

Maybe some rest would clear his mind.

"Okay, so you two can play defence for the first half, because we've watched some of the other team's plays and they always go for the left side, so you two block them there. Innie, make sure you get in front of the other team's shooter, so we have a clear view of the net."

Jeongin nodded. "Okay."

Hyunjin stood and regarded each of his teammates in turn. They were prepared. For once, he felt focused, sharp, and fire ran through his veins as he took his position on the court, the center.

The final game.

The court was packed to the brim; the school had even hung several banners in the boys' team colours to encourage them. They could win a home game.

Students, teachers, and even the principal had come down to spectate the game, filling out the bleachers. Those who couldn't find somewhere to sit were happy enough to watch the game from the side of the court, provided they didn't distract any of the boys playing.

Hyunjin had previously felt rather nervous upon entering the court, seeing that everyone was there, but he'd told himself to focus, putting all thoughts out of his mind while he zoned in. The game was his only priority right now; everything could be dealt with after.

Including Y/n.

He hadn't seen her in the crowd; he hoped she was in there somewhere, spectating. He wanted her to be here, but he didn't have time to scan the bleachers and the crowd, instead deciding that the team should run through the tactics one more time. He'd enlisted Felix to tie his hair back; it hadn't worked the first time. His bangs were too short to be tied back, but too long and distracting to have in his face.

Grudgingly, he'd allowed Felix to loosely braid it, so that he had one of either side, his hair in a tiny little bun at his nape. It felt a little strange; it'd been so long since he had a haircut. He was used to having no hair against his neck, since he liked it short, but he found that he didn't mind the longer length either.

Also, Y/n had teasingly told him she liked the style on him when he'd sent her a picture of the group over text.

So he'd kept it.

Shaking his head, Hyunjin kept his eyes on the ball as the referee held it between them, poised to blow the whistle. There was gradual silence as the crowd settled down, waiting in anticipation to see who would get the upper hand first.

To no one's surprise, and to the enormous annoyance of the other team's center, Hyunjin's fingertips brushed the ball, sending it almost halfway down the court, where his teammate intercepted it and began dribbling towards the hoop.

Hyunjin landed lightly and quickly adjusted the black sleeve protecting his injury, before racing down the court.

Twenty minutes later and Hyunjin was beginning to become weary and exhausted; his coach called a timeout and went through a couple strategies, much to the team's relief. It'd been one of the toughest games so far, and as Hyunjin glanced up at the scoreboard, he realised they were currently at a tie.

He exhaled forcefully as the game started up again, moving to defend an opponent as Felix moved down the court with the ball. He noticed two of the other team's members moving towards Jisung as Felix passed the ball to him, and shouted out a warning.

One of the opponents budged Jisung hard with his shoulder, attempting to take the ball, and he spun, leaning over with the ball to his middle to stop them from taking it. Jisung looked up as the other opponent covered the closest team member; there was nowhere for him to pass. He glanced up at the clock as Hyunjin began to move towards him. Thirty seconds.. he could either wait it out and keep the ball, or risk passing.

If they take the ball, though, he thought. I have to keep it on our side.

Desperately, he looked to Hyunjin, who was currently being marked by an opponent. The clock began to count down, the crowd's cries becoming increasingly loud and frantic.

Twenty seconds.

Jisung barely managed to pass the ball to his friend, almost tripping, and Hyunjin exhaled as he moved towards the hoop, faster than he'd ever done in his life.

Much to his dismay, an opponent to his left brushed his arm as he reached for the ball, and nudged Hyunjin's injury, sending a shooting pain up his left arm. Crying out and dropping the ball, stumbling, he made to recapture it before someone whizzed past and stole it.

Jisung.

He had three opponents marking him now, and a clear shot of the hoop. They caged him in and Hyunjin fell unsurely, clumsy on his feet. His arm was beginning to throb sharply and it became hard to focus on anything else. He could only stand as Felix hoisted him from the ground and watch as Jisung dribbled the ball where he stood, looking for an opening.

Ten seconds.

Jisung made to move towards the hoop and was shoved roughly in the side. Hyunjin let out an outraged yelp but Felix held him back, just as Jisung fell down, shooting desperately at the hoop in a last-ditch attempt.

The buzzer rang as the ball hit the floor.

Everyone turned to look at the referee; they'd all missed the opportunity to see if the ball had gone in, and that too during the ending buzzer. There was silence as he debated the verdict, before lifting his left hand and signaling a point to Hyunjin's team.

The crowd roared in ecstasy, but Hyunjin was distracted; Jisung was on the floor, back to him, clutching his right leg.

Skidding to his knees beside his teammate and raising a hand for the medic, he glanced down desperately at his friend.

"Jisung," he gasped, panting.

His face was twisted in pain, his lips parting as he groaned softly, chest heaving. Hyunjin let the hair tie slip from his locks, his bangs falling into his face as he cradled Jisung's head.

Their coach and two medics came to assess his friend; one of them moved to take off Jisung's shoe. His ankle was already beginning to bruise severely, the swelling evident against his pale skin. Jisung cried out just as the medic attempted to move it gently to the left.

"Sung," Hyunjin whispered, the guilt flooding his system all of a sudden. "I'm so sorry, I- I got jealous, and I hurt you, and I didn't meant to ignore you for the entire tournament, it's just-"

Jisung was being helped into a sitting position, still managing to shoot Hyunjin a pained grin as he panted. "I know, Cap. Relax."

"Sung, I swear, I should have-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know you like her, by the way."

Hyunjin's head snapped up. The medics took no notice, and their coach stood to direct the others off the court. The crowd was now chattering amongst themselves, and Hyunjin was glad they weren't dead silent, staring at Jisung and his now-hurt ankle.

"Y-you knew?"

Jisung rolled his eyes despite the pain. "Yeah, I knew. It wasn't hard to tell. Besides, I decided to let you be mad at me for a while because I figured you had enough going on. You're welcome."

Hyunjin's eyes filled with tears despite the public situation. "Thanks. I'm so sorry, Jisung."

His friend waved a hand, his head lolling back a little as he hissed, the medic moving to cushion his foot. "Ah- shit, yeah, it's all good, man. I don't like her, by the way."

Hyunjin blinked at him. "You don't?"

"She's nice and all, but nah."

Hyunjin let his shoulders sag in relief. Touching Jisung's hand, he smiled at him just as a tear ran down his cheek. He felt overwhelmingly happy all of a sudden; they'd won the championship, he'd made up with his friend, and now he could finally relax now that Jisung didn't like Y/n. Of course, there was still the matter of whether Y/n liked him, or anyone for that matter, but Hyunjin brushed that thought to the back of his mind, letting it sit quiet and forgotten for the time being.

Jisung smirked at his friend, his face sweaty and flushed. "Felix has a girlfriend now. That volleyballer chick. He confessed to her before we left and they're planning to meet up. Think it's about time you did the same thing, Hyunjinnie."

Hyunjin's eyes met his friend's a little sadly. "I don't know where she is."

"Felix said he saw her walking down the corridor by her form class earlier. Apparently just chilling out by herself since we don't have classes because of the game."

Hyunjin squeezed Jisung's hand. "I don't want to leave you."

His friend waved a hand. "Go. I'll be fine, they're probably going to take me to the infirmary. We'll see you later, okay?"

Hyunjin nodded and stepped back, letting the medics lift his friend and sling an arm over each of their shoulders, carrying him off the court.

He congratulated his team briefly and shook hands with the other team before slipping out of the gym. An increasing sense of urgency settled in his stomach, each step he took fueling the fire that had been burning in his heart since he'd realised what Y/n meant to him.

Please, he thought desperately as he broke into a run. Please let her be here. I don't care that she didn't watch my game, I just want to see her.

He skidded around a corner and saw a figure sitting in one of the window alcoves, a sketchbook laying open beside them. The page was blank. Hyunjin's heart leapt so high and hard he thought he might lean over and throw it up.

Y/n.

He cried out her name and broke into an even faster run, skidding to a stop beside her. His sneakers screeched against the floor and he doubled over. It wasn't for long, though, and as he hauled himself upright, he felt a pair of arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders.

He clung to her, burying his face in her neck. She didn't seem to care how sweaty he was; her hand came up to cradle the back of his head, undoing the braids from his hair, fingers shaking.

"Hyune," she said quietly. He realised she was crying as he pulled back.

"I missed you so much," he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers.

"I missed you too. It felt like forever, I was so alone-"

Hyunjin shook his head, an unexpected tear running down his cheek. "You're not alone. You said it yourself, you never have been."

She nodded vehemently, still holding onto his shoulders. Hyunjin stepped back a little, his arms still wrapped around her waist. He took a deep breath steeling his resolve.

"Y/n, I have to tell you something."

Her voice was quiet. "Me too."

Hyunjin's heart was thudding so hard it hurt. Now that he finally had the opportunity to tell her how she made him feel, he suddenly found he didn't have the words. It all rushed out of his head in an instant as Y/n looked up at him with wide, wet eyes.

"I don't know how to tell you," he whispered.

"Show, me then."

Hyunjin inhaled sharply, his eyes not leaving her gaze. Taking her chin in a shaking hand, he stroked it affectionately across her jaw.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

She did.

Hyunjin leant forward slowly. Surely she knew what he was doing, touching her like this, talking to her so softly. But she didn't back away, didn't back down, just stood close to him, held in his arms, and let Hyunjin kiss her.

She tasted salt and sweat and affection and she tilted her head a little, letting her hands touch his face, though shakily and experimentally.

Pulling back after a minute, Hyunjin rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. He was still holding her waist, and her eyes were still closed. Hyunjin watched a tears slip down her cheek and brushed it away with a warm thumb before it reached her jaw.

"Please don't cry," he murmured to her.

"I'm not..."

Hyunjin chucked softly, feeling so overwhelmed he could do nothing but hold her as if she was an anchor in a stormy sea. "Am I that bad of a kisser?"

Y/n opened her eyes, looking away from him. This time, there was no teasing remark, no playful insult, and it made Hyunjin's heart soar so high he felt like he was floating. He stroked her cheek as he looked back at him, both their tears falling freely.

"You're not alone," he whispered. "You'll never be alone, Y/nnie. I promise."

Y/n nodded, running a hand over her shoulder as Hyunjin pressed two fingers to her cheek, wiping away her tears.

"I know."

Hyunjin chuckled quietly, still holding her. "Yeah? How do you know?"

Y/n smiled up at him, eyes wet. She felt a little embarrassed, but to Hyunjin, she was the most beautiful person in the world, even if she was crying.

She touched his cheek.

"Because now I have you."

taglist (open) : @kozumesphone @bangchansgirlsblog @ms-flowergirl @stayriversflow @hhwangsmoon @steddie-steddie

✨ send a request or DM to be added / removed !

[freakymcnastys]

hihihi!! idk if you’re taking request but i LOVED ur 10 things i hate abt you one shot!! i would love to see a part 2 💝💝💝

“are you bored yet?” - katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ "will you tell the truth so I don’t have to lie?"

NOTE: there will be 2 more parts after this! (sorry it’s so long 💔💔)

content: 10tihay au, quirkless au, american au, regular bakugou stuff, PART 2 WHOOP WHOOP! (part 1 here )

"WAIT WHATS THAT?" Iida asked Kirishima who held a yellow stack of flyers. "My revenge.." He said with a smile before throwing the papers down the staircase of the school watching as the students grabbed them. "Mineta's having a party?" Iida questioned, confused. "No but now he is!" He responded with a wink before walking off.

While walking out of school, Iida noticed Ochaco walking by herself. "Hey Ochaco!" He quipped, sliding next to the burnette. She quickly greeted him with a smile. The pair walked off together ultimately deciding to have Ochaco show Iida around while talking about the plan with her sister and Katsuki. "Are you going to the party" Iida asked. "Yeah of course I really really wanna go but I can't unless my sister does.." Ochaco sighed hopping off a statue the two were climbing. "Um I'm working on that but your sister is not going for the guy." He explained before a question popped into his head.

"So are you sure that your sister isn't a-"

"K.D. Lang fan? Nope." Ochaco shrugged. "Found a picture of Fatgum in her drawer once." She continued. "Oh so she's into guys like that? Like pretty guys?" He questioned, looking down at her. "I guess. I mean you can't expect me to dissect the inner workings of her twisted mind!" She ranted, not forgetting the theatrics while she spoke.

Kirishima's bike compared to the rest of the bikers made Iida sink into himself as he walked into the bar, looking for Bakugou. Once they spotted him they went to him. "Should you be drinking that if your don't have a liver?" The red head asked, stupidly, earning a smack from Iida. "So we got somethings that might help you win over y/n."

Katsuki just raised him brow, taking another sip from his beer. "Uh first off y/n hates smokers..so uh--" Iida then processed to take the cigarette from Bakugou hand and put it out on the floor as Kirishima nodded along. "So yer telling me that I'm a non-smoker?" The blonde let out slowly. "Well just for now! and well here's another problem.." Iida led on. "Ochaco says y/n likes pretty guys.." He finished as the two friends looked to each other then at Katsuki.

"Are you telling me I'm not a pretty guy?" He asked almost offended, getting up from his spot that was leaning on the pool table. This causes the two teens to scramble to defend themselves and to compliment Bakugou. "This is a very pretty guy! This is a gorgeous guy!" Kirishima retorted as Iida quickly agreed with him as Bakugou went back down to listen to the rest of what they needed to tell him. Katsuki knew he was a pretty guy but he loved to mess with this guys..

As Momo and Ochaco tried to quickly sneak past her dad to leave for the party, he just called out to them. "Should've tried the window!"

"Now where are you two going?" He interrogated them as Momo just looked at her friend with a nervous smile. "Well if you must know we are going to a..study group!" The youngest daughter lied, terribly. "Other wise known as an orgy?" He raised an eyebrow from behind his newspaper.

"Oh come on daddy it's just a party!" the burnette attempted to use her charm on her dad but he still didn't seem to budge. "You know you can't go if your sister doesn't." As if on que you came down the stairs, on your way to the kitchen.

"Come on y/n! Can't you be normal for once and go to Minetas party!" Ochaco huffed, practically begging you. Although you REALLY didn't want to go, you really did feel a pang of guilt after seeing how much your sister wanted to go to this stupid party. Fuck it.

“Fine I’ll make an appearance.” You shrug before heading back upstairs to fix your hair and grab a leather jacket. As you were on your way to your room you hear the door close and your dad say to himself, “what just happened…?” in disbelief. Which made you laugh a bit.

The party was booming once you got there. Of course now looking around the atmosphere you feel regret creep up on you as you soon bump into Monoma.

“Woah hey there kitty cat!” He spoke with his usual self righteous tone which caused you to scoff. “Whatever just stay away from my sister.” You warn the blonde. Before walking away he says this. “Can’t promise she’ll stay away from me!” Suddenly this party started to suck even more than before.

And just as you thought things couldn’t get worse the guy who seemed to be harassing you showed up once again. “Dear god, what do you want..” You let out a sigh. “What not enjoying the party?” The blonde scoffed. This guy is now starting to seriously piss you off.

Just as Katsuki was gonna say something back, Monoma and Ochaco walked past the two with his arm around the girl and saying something along the lines of, “guess who found me!”. This seemed to set something off in you as Katsuki watched you throw back two shots of whatever was on the table. “Woah slow down..” The boy said, rather uncharacteristically, concerned.

“Come man I’m enjoying the party!”

[guhamun]

CALCHARO SCOFFED, LIPS CURLING slightly into a hint of a smile as his gaze came to rest upon the other once more. ❝Quite rich.❞ What a mess they were, stumbling about like drunkards in the dark. None had any idea what either was feeling, nor how to properly translate that into something that made sense. Still, he did appreciate that Jiyan was attempting. They were doing far better than himself, but there were many reasons for that, most of which stemming from his atrocious social skills for one. ❝But it’s fine. I wasn’t aware that I made you feel the way you did, so this was what I needed to hear.❞ People were most honest when their emotions flared, and hearing Jiyan actively say things that were other than respectable or nice, was certainly different. He was always polite when he spoke; always mindful of what passed his lips when other people were involved, that catching him out of his element had certainly not been…remotely expected. ❝And,❞ he continued, ❝you needed to speak it, clearly, so it was a win-win all around.❞ Calcharo valued honesty, anyway. Nothing was lost during Jiyan’s vent.

     Even so, there was relief in seeing that smile again. Muscles he had not been aware were tense, slowly relaxed once more upon bearing witness to it. ❝I’ll be honest in turn.❞ He shifted a little, making himself a bit more comfortable before he continued. ❝Admittedly, I don’t understand half of this. I don’t understand your thought process, nor can I really understand my own. I'm attempting, though. My questions are just me trying to see how much of what you say matches with mine. It’s ridiculous to probably do things in that manner, and it seemed to make you feel like I was purposely prodding, but there was a reason behind it.❞ Did it help? A little. A bit. Jiyan’s words had a great affect on him, which was…strange, yet not…necessarily a bad thing. He simply wasn’t used to the storm that was this man, nor his brand of honest rhetoric. One would think the general would be more reserved.

     He was, and he wasn’t.

     What a bizarre contradiction. ❝I like being around you. You’re trustworthy and can get things done. Reliable. Steadfast.❞ There was a pause from him, Calcharo suddenly feeling awkward. Stating facts was one thing, going deeper than that was another. ❝But most of all, I like seeing facets of you that others don’t get to see. Your eyes seem brighter when you smile, for one. You also have a nice laugh. It’s pleasant to listen to. Even the parts you think of as ‘unseemly’ – those are just the human aspects of you that you hardly had a chance to do much with. There’s nothing wrong with it. Just means you’re being more yourself, is all. Sometimes you just have to let the frustration out instead of keeping it locked up.❞ He chuckled, soft, airy. ❝Anyway…you have to make it up to me for making me talk this much in one sitting. That’s not helping me take it easy, you know. Had my mind working overtime too without any kind of payment for all that effort.❞ He was only joking, his tone lighthearted rather than accusatory.

"..." Indeed, it wasn’t like him to make assumptions, and it wasn’t like him to get frustrated or metaphorically bare his fangs when mere questions were asked. He wasn't even mad when his detractors treated him with no respect and made up rumors soon after he was appointed general by Jué. So why did he react the way he did with Calcharo? Why was he so affected and overwhelmed when he had no good reason for such? And... he knew perfectly well that they would never try and hurt him on purpose, and yet he still wasn't able to control his emotions. And yet, Calcharo was apologizing to him when the one that should be apologizing should be him. "I apologize for lashing out. I have no excuse for pouring out my frustrations the way I did and treating you poorly when all you did was ask a question." He wanted to hide and look away, as he didn’t want the other to see this unsightly and irrational side of him, but he still forced himself to lift his head and meet the mercenary's gaze.

A small and apologetic smile tugged at the sides of his mouth. It soon widened a little more and became more genuine after hearing what the mercenary said next. "I'm aware it sounds rich coming from me after my little scene, but there's no need to be so dramatic now, Calcharo. If what you say was true, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. Water and oil don’t mix, but you have long since left your mark in me." Like a tacet mark on the skin, one's life is never the same after it appears. It becomes part of one, until their frequencies degrade and become part of Solaris-3. "Your company, your words, your very existence makes me happy in a way I may not be able to describe, but I feel and know it nonetheless. I want you in my life, even when you unintentionally make me upset. That's something that will never change. I can promise that much." No matter the circumstances, he would always reach out to them. Wasn't that what he did when...

Jiyan blinked. "I remembered that this was supposed to be an outing to get you to take things easy, yet here I am making you work your brain overtime." And now he felt mortified, covering the lower half of his face with a hand as he momentarily looked away, and then took a deep breath. "I feel deeply ashamed for my poor bedside manners. I swear I have never..." But he couldn't even bring himself to finish that sentence. So, instead, he slowly leaned closer towards the other once more and rested his forehead on their shoulder. Jiyan knew that it made no sense. Not even a few minutes ago he was agitated and frustrated, and yet... This impossible man, who was the reason for his agitation and frustration, only needed to exist in the same space as him to make him feel at ease.

[autobahnmp3]

pretty good day i gotta say

[turtleblogatlast]

I think a lot about Leo’s tendency to push his way into the spotlight despite clearly being a natural in the shadows. Hell, you could argue that his worst moments are when he’s forcing himself onstage, and his best are when he does things no one notices until it’s already been done.

[marblerose-rue]

attack for @/pi_peeppeep_pi (art fight) !!!

[nostalgia-tblr]

I watched Avengers: Age of Ultron (apart from I skipped some overly long action sequences) and I am not sure so can someone tell me whether or not Tony Stark was the baddy in that film? Because about halfway through I was sure he was but then it was maybe just an evil robot after all and I am confused because either this film was surprisingly subversive or it was about robots hitting each other.

[vaguely-concerned]

the scene where you talk to davrin in his room while he whittles tiny models of monsters (while assan watches with rapt attention <3 there is nothing about this whole setup, man or griffon, that isn't adorable) when your rook IS one of the dainty little academic mage types he so besmirches and you consistently pick the purple options through the conversation -- I am SCREECHING the covert jock/nerd war rages on between clenched teeth and forced jollity, they are doing this on purpose, bioware really have given me this gift all nicely wrapped and lovingly crafted! rook is so fucking bitchy and passive aggressive in these purple options (and once or twice davrin doesn't seem to realize it/takes what they say at face value); it's not very nice of them but it is hilarious. also I must say that hearing these two just relentlessly neg each other with palpable tension of. SOME kind thick in the air* for five minutes straight and then walking away and seeing the 'davrin approves' pop up at the end gets close to the otherwise unapproachable gaming high that is having a tense standoff with sten in origins and seeing +7 affection as you leave. davrin clearly is going 'good talk man nice to see you stand up for yourself more, I respect the roast game' while my rook walks away with a forced smile and clenched fists like 'okay so that wasn't very mature of me I'll admit it but god why is this guy such an asshole'

I cannot imagine how this conversation must play out with a character more on davrin's wavelength because for my setup here this was *chef's kiss* perfect. ideal. I'm so glad this dynamic exists it's one of the funniest and most characterization-enriching things that could have happened to me

*there's some insanity going on here where like... I don't think either of them like want to fuck, they're not actually attracted to each other, but they both would fuck each other in a 'go fuck yourself'/'fuck me yourself you coward'/'fine I will see if I don't!!!!'/'oh yeah??? do it then!!!!!' kind of way. the vibes are indescribable and unhinged on both of their parts.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

I was rewatching The Stone Forest and I really like to think that Hilda had to pass by the Bell Keeper’s outpost on her way out of the city limits. I like to think that idiot looked at what was happening, shrugged, and said ‘eh, she’s the scariest thing out there’