#i just i’m really annoyed by her response

[goldfades]

paige bueckers x medic reader blurb

idk why this has been on my mind but here's something to feed you guys while i recover from whatever the fuck last semester was

here’s the thing about paige bueckers: she’s annoying.

not in the throw-your-clipboard, tear-your-hair-out kind of way, but in the she’s-too-charming-for-her-own-good kind of way. the kind that makes your pulse skitter and your cheeks burn, and—worst of all—she knows it.

you’re certain she figured it out the first time she winked at you during pre-season. she’d just finished a shooting drill, her braid swinging like a metronome as she jogged over to your side of the court, flashing that grin—the one that’s equal parts mischief and sunshine.

“think i’m pushing it too hard, doc?” she asked, her hand brushing yours when you handed her a water bottle. your stuttered response? a dead giveaway.

and now, it’s practically her sport. teasing you, that is. not basketball though she’s otherworldly at that too. but here she is, six months post-acl surgery, stuck in the monotony of rehab, and somehow still making you feel like the one who’s sweating under bright gym lights.

“you’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?” her voice cuts through your focus as you jot down notes on her progress for the day. when you glance up, she’s watching you from the training table, her injured leg stretched out in front of her, an ice pack wrapped snug around her knee. her head tilts, blonde strands falling loose from her messy bun, and there it is—that look.

“i don’t even know what you mean by that,” you mutter, knowing full well she’s waiting for you to take the bait.

she leans back on her elbows, her lips curving into a slow smile. “i’m just saying, if you don’t stay close, how am i supposed to recover? pretty sure moral support is in your job description.”

you roll your eyes, even as your heart hammers against your ribs. “pretty sure my job description is making sure you don’t blow out your knee again, bueckers.”

“so you do care about me.” her voice lilts, sing-song and undeniably smug, and god, you’re starting to regret all the years you spent chasing a degree instead of learning how to mask a blush.

you try not to sigh too loudly, scribbling something on the clipboard even though it’s just a nervous scribble now. she’s watching you like she knows—because, of course, she does. she always knows. it’s like she has a sixth sense for your embarrassment, and worse, she’s figured out exactly how to weaponize it.

“i care about all my patients,” you say, finally looking up from your notes to meet her gaze. it’s meant to come off clinical, professional, but the way her eyes sparkle makes you feel like you’ve said something embarrassingly sweet instead.

“but do you care about me more?” she asks, tilting her head, her voice dripping with fake innocence.

you deadpan her. “paige.”

“what?” she grins wider now, the kind of grin that should probably come with a warning label. “i’m just trying to gauge my ranking on the medic hierarchy. am i at least in the top five?”

“you’re lucky you even have a ranking,” you mutter, setting the clipboard down and moving closer to check her ice pack. you’re trying—really trying—not to make a big deal about how close you are to her now. but then her hand shifts, casually brushing against yours as she adjusts the pack herself.

and just like that, your resolve? gone.

“aww, come on,” she says softly, her voice lower now, almost teasingly gentle. “you can admit it. i’m your favorite.”

your lips press into a thin line as you busy yourself with checking the straps on the ice pack. “you’re impossible.”

“you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” she counters, and it’s so smooth, so shameless, that you actually pause mid-motion.

you glance at her, half tempted to say something snarky, but she’s already watching you with this expression that’s somehow both playful and too much. like she’s trying to figure you out and enjoy herself at the same time. it’s unfair, really.

“is this what you spend your time thinking about?” you ask, attempting to sound exasperated. “ways to embarrass me?”

“not just ways to embarrass you,” she says, and the mock sincerity in her tone is criminal. “also ways to make you smile. you should smile more, you know.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, refusing to give her the satisfaction, even though—damn it—you’re already fighting the urge to crack a grin. she sees it, of course. she always sees it.

“you’re insufferable,” you mumble, stepping back to grab another piece of equipment you need for her session.

“but you like me anyway,” she calls after you, her voice sing-song.

you don’t respond this time, opting instead to take an extra moment to gather your thoughts while pretending to look for something in the cabinet. when you turn back around, she’s already back to lounging on the training table, her arms folded behind her head like she’s posing for a magazine spread.

“okay, let’s get serious,” you say, trying to steer the conversation back to anything resembling professionalism. “how’s the pain today? any stiffness?”

she shrugs, but there’s a flicker of something more serious in her expression. “a little. nothing crazy.”

“you need to let me know if it gets worse,” you remind her, stepping closer to start her mobility exercises. “overdoing it isn’t going to help your recovery.”

“yes, ma’am,” she says, her tone light, but you catch the way her eyes soften when she watches you. it’s different from her usual teasing—quieter, more thoughtful—and for a moment, you’re not sure what to do with it.

you busy yourself with guiding her through the exercises, focusing on the mechanics, the angles, the movements. but it’s hard to ignore the way she keeps glancing at you, her smile smaller now but no less present.

“you’re good at this,” she says suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

you blink, looking up at her. “at what?”

“this,” she gestures vaguely, her hand moving to encompass the room, the exercises, you. “taking care of people. making them feel like they’re gonna be okay, even when they’re not sure they will be.”

her words catch you off guard, and for a second, you don’t know how to respond. it’s so… earnest. too earnest for someone who’s usually throwing out flirty one-liners and over-the-top winks.

“that’s… my job,” you manage to say, your voice quieter now.

she shakes her head, her gaze never leaving yours. “nah. it’s more than that. you’re more than that.”

and just like that, the air feels heavier, charged with something you can’t quite name. she doesn’t say anything else, just watches you with those impossibly blue eyes, like she’s waiting for you to say something back.

but all you can do is focus on the way your heart is racing, the way her words linger, soft and unshakable, in the space between you.

it was hard to forget the day it happened. the sound of it—a sickening pop that cut through the air like a gunshot—still haunted you sometimes, echoing in your mind when the gym got too quiet. you’d been courtside, clipboard in hand, watching as paige went down. she didn’t get up right away. that was how you knew it was bad.

paige bueckers wasn’t the type to stay down. she played like she was invincible, like nothing could touch her. but that day, she just lay there, clutching her knee, her face twisted in pain. it wasn’t just the physical agony that got to her, though; it was something deeper. you could see it in her eyes when she finally looked at you as you rushed to her side—this raw, unfiltered fear. like she’d just watched her whole world shatter in an instant.

“is it bad?” she’d asked, her voice barely above a whisper as you carefully assessed her knee. there was a tremble in it that you weren’t used to hearing, and it made your chest ache in a way you hadn’t expected.

“we’re gonna take care of you,” you’d said, dodging the question because you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the truth. not yet.

she’d nodded, but her jaw was clenched, her hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the bench where you’d helped her sit. and when the scans came back, confirming what you’d already suspected, the devastation in her face nearly broke you.

the weeks that followed were some of the hardest you’d ever seen her endure. paige wasn’t herself—not the confident, fiery leader everyone knew and loved. she was quieter, angrier, and you could tell she was struggling to keep it all together. rehab was slow and painful, and there were days when she’d show up to the training room with this blank look in her eyes, like she wasn’t sure she’d ever be the same again.

but then, there were the moments when you caught a glimpse of the paige you knew. the one who refused to stay down for long. like the time she’d walked in with her crutches slung over one shoulder, grinning like she’d just won a championship. “figured i should start carrying these instead of letting them carry me,” she’d joked, and for the first time in weeks, you’d seen a flicker of that unshakable determination in her.

those moments grew more frequent as time went on. she threw herself into her recovery with a single-minded focus that was equal parts inspiring and infuriating. there were times you had to physically stop her from pushing herself too hard, reminding her that she wasn’t invincible. but she’d just roll her eyes and flash you that grin, saying something like, “gotta keep you on your toes, doc.”

and now, watching her sit on the training table, her ice pack wrapped around her knee and her confidence radiating from every pore, it was hard to reconcile this version of her with the one you’d seen at her lowest. the injury hadn’t just changed her; it had shaped her, strengthened her in ways that even she probably didn’t fully understand.

“what are you thinking about?” she asks suddenly, breaking through your thoughts. her voice is lighter now, teasing as always, but there’s a softness in her gaze that catches you off guard.

you hesitate for a moment before shrugging, a small smile tugging at your lips. “just thinking about how far you’ve come.”

she raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “yeah? and what’s the verdict?”

“the verdict,” you say, setting your clipboard down and meeting her gaze, “is that you’re still a pain in the ass.”

her laugh is loud and genuine, echoing through the room in a way that makes your chest feel a little lighter. “you love it, though,” she says, grinning like she knows a secret.

and maybe she does. because no matter how many times she teases you, or how much she flusters you, you can’t help but admire her resilience—the way she got back up when the world tried to keep her down.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[xiaominghao]

Too early for Christmas

Genre: fluff, crack ??

Pairing: Minghao x reader.

Warnings: barely proofread, this was funnier in my head, babygirl Minghao.

Yuin's note: At first I thought about writing this for Mingyu but the idea of Hao being such a loser was more apealing (I'm sorry Hao).

Hao, is that you?” you asked loudly, the front door had slowly closed and you didn’t hear anything else. There was no response. “Minghao?”

You heard a sound coming from the living room and thinking it was the TV or some video, you overlooked it. However, it was a little strange how quiet he was. As you walked toward the living room, Minghao was facing away from the kitchen entrance, right in front of the Christmas tree that was in the corner.

You cleared your throat to get his attention, and that made him shrug, slightly turning his head and giving you an awkward smile.

“Hello, darling,” he said in a trembling voice, “I didn’t know you were home.”

“Hi…” you greeted slowly, suspecting that something was going on. “Yeah, well. I just came to say that lunch is almost ready, can you help me with…?”

You heard the same noise as before, loud and clear. It was a bark and sounded very close; you glanced towards the TV but it was off, then looked back at Minghao, who swallowed hard as he gave you an even more awkward smile.

“Hao…” you stared at him seriously, crossing your arms. “Please tell me it's not what I think it is.”

He turned completely towards you, his head bowed as if he were guilty of something while cradling to his chest a small puppy with a large red bow tied around its neck.

He slowly lifted his gaze and swallowed hard, you stood there with your arms crossed and both eyebrows raised. “Um… Merry Christmas?”

“It’s too early for Christmas,” you replied, stepping forward defiantly, making him shrink back a little more.

“Merry… Christmas Eve?”

“Hao…”

He sighed deeply and straightened up firmly, giving a more serious air, as he usually does.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I know I was the one who said ‘no pets in the apartment,’” he defended calmly, but suddenly his expression changed. “But how could I say no to these little eyes and these tiny paws!?”

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend!?” you exclaimed, pointing your finger at him. “Xu Ming Hao wouldn’t be swayed like that!”

“Surprise, he did!”

“Get out right now and return it!”

“No!” Hao frowned as if you had said the most offensive phrase in the world, hugging the puppy like a spoiled child protecting his toys. “She was given to me by a sweet old lady who was giving puppies up for adoption. I promised I would take good care of her.”

“I’m sorry,” you crossed your arms again, not wanting to back down. “I can’t promise that.”

Hao tilted his head a little and with pouty face, he looked you straight in the eyes. “Would you do it for me?”

Your pulse quickened a little, your chest tightened. You still stood there with a straight face, but you didn’t feel as firm as before; you were really weak when it comes to him, too much to admit it.

Hao moved a little closer and gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Would you do it for me?” His voice low and sweeter than ever.

Seeing that you weren’t saying a word, he brought his face just inches from yours, his lips almost brushing against yours. “Would you do it for me?”

You swallowed hard and shyly turned away, averting your gaze so he wouldn’t see how flushed your face was and a loud growl escaped from your lips. “What name should we give her?”

Hao approached you and happily kissed your face repeatedly; he was feeling like the happiest man in the world. You were still a bit annoyed but seeing him so smiley made your heart ache in love.

“You’re an idiot,” you murmured, turning your back to him.

“And you’re hopelessly in love with me,” he whispered in your ear, hugging you from behind to give you a little kiss on the shoulder. “Now, shall we lunch?”

“Sure, just let me… Why does my slipper feel cold?”

Both of you looked down, and the puppy was sitting by your foot, staring at you intently.

“Hao…”

He sighed to stifle a laugh. “Leave it to me.”

[misahyochaeng]

“Back to Black.”

Jihyo x Fem!Reader

Chapter 9-12

Other chapters here:

tw: fluff, angst, physical violence, abuse, blackmail(?), cursing, rumors, ceo!jihyo x model!reader, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers.

—

Jihyo carefully ran the bath, testing the water with her fingers to make sure it was just the right temperature. The steam curled softly in the air, fogging the mirror as she adjusted the knobs. The night had left her strangely unsettled, a mix of emotions swirling within her as she stole a glance back at the bedroom where you lay.

You were stretched out on her bed, half-asleep, the tension of the evening melting into exhaustion. Your breathing was slow, and the sight of you like that—so peaceful, so vulnerable—made Jihyo’s chest tighten. She turned back to the bath, shaking her head at herself.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, pulling her from her thoughts. She sighed, her shoulders drooping as she picked it up.

Sana.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she opened the messages.

“Where are you?”

“I miss you.”

“I need your lips on me.”

Jihyo stared at the words for a moment, her stomach twisting—not with longing, but with annoyance. She hesitated, then typed a short response:

“I’m busy.”

The response only seemed to fuel Sana’s persistence.

“Don’t ignore me, Jihyo.”

“Is this about Y/N?”

“You know I’m better for you. Just come over. Let me remind you.”

Jihyo closed her eyes, her jaw tightening as she gripped the phone. Her finger hovered over the screen before she locked it, setting it down face-down on the counter. She didn’t need this right now—not tonight.

She turned back to the bath, carefully shutting off the water and wiping her damp hands on a towel. With a deep breath, she pushed aside the weight Sana’s messages brought and focused on you.

Walking into the bedroom, she knelt down beside you, her fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice coaxing. “The bath’s ready.” You let out a tired groan, burying your face further into her pillow. “I don’t wanna move…”

Jihyo chuckled, the sound warm and low. “You’ll thank me once you’re in there. Trust me.” She gently tugged at your arm, her touch steady but patient. Reluctantly, you let her help you up, leaning against her as you shuffled toward the bathroom. “You’re so annoying,” you muttered, your words muffled by sleep.

“And yet, you keep letting me take care of you,” she teased, her hand resting at the small of your back as she guided you. The moment you stepped into the warm water, a soft sigh escaped your lips. The heat seemed to wrap around you, melting away the tension in your muscles. Jihyo knelt by the side of the tub, resting her chin on her folded arms as she watched you settle in.

“What?” you asked, catching her gaze. She smiled faintly, her eyes soft. “You just… You look so calm. I like seeing you like this.” You let out a small laugh, closing your eyes. “You’re staring again.”

“Can you blame me?” she murmured, her voice so quiet it almost blended with the sound of the water. You opened one eye, studying her. “You’re being weird tonight. What’s going on in that head of yours?” her eyebrows furrowed “What do you mean by that?”. You leaned your head back, “I mean, you’re not insulting me or making my life a living hell, what’s up with that?” For a moment, she hesitated, her lips parting like she was about to say something significant. Instead, she reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “I was just thinking… about you. About us.”

The weight of her words made your heart flutter. “Us?” you echoed, your voice soft. She nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving yours. “You’re different, Y/N. In a good way. A really good way.”

Her words caught you off guard, leaving you unsure of how to respond. Before you could find the right words, her phone buzzed again from the counter. Jihyo’s face hardened as she stood, her shoulders tense. “I’ll be right back.” You watched her leave, a small ache blooming in your chest. Alone, you sank further into the water, the warmth now doing little to soothe the unease that crept into your thoughts.

Out in the other room, Jihyo grabbed her phone, glaring at the screen. She answered with a clipped tone, “What do you want, Sana?”

“Finally,” Sana’s voice came through the line, smooth and self-assured. “You’ve been ignoring me all night.”

“I told you I’m busy,” Jihyo replied, her voice tight. “With Y/N?” Sana pressed, her tone shifting to something sharper. “You think they’re better than me? Different?”

“Sana, stop,” Jihyo said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You know how this ends,” Sana continued, her voice softening to a manipulative lilt. “They’ll leave, Jihyo. They always do. But I’m still here. I’ll always be here.” Jihyo’s grip on the phone tightened. “Goodnight, Sana,” she said firmly, ending the call before Sana could respond.

She stood there for a moment, her heart pounding—not with doubt, but with frustration. She refused to let Sana’s words linger, refused to let them plant seeds of insecurity.

When she returned to the bathroom, you were resting against the edge of the tub, your eyes half-closed. You looked up at her, your expression soft but tinged with concern. “Everything okay?”

Jihyo’s expression softened instantly, and she knelt beside you again. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.” She helped you out of the tub, wrapping a towel around your shoulders. “I thought you were going to fall asleep in there,” she teased lightly. You laughed quietly, leaning into her touch. “Maybe I was.” As she led you back to the bedroom, you glanced at her, your voice hesitant. “What you said earlier… about me being different. What did you mean?”

Jihyo paused, her gaze locking with yours. Her lips parted, and for a moment, you thought she might finally say it. But instead, she smiled faintly. “It’s… complicated.” Your heart sank slightly at her deflection, but you didn’t push. Instead, you let her guide you back to bed, her touch gentle as she tucked you in.

And as she slipped in beside you, holding you close, you couldn’t shake the feeling that her silence carried more weight than her words ever could.

—

A sharp knock pierced the quiet of the night, drawing an irritated groan from your lips as you stirred in bed. You glanced at Jihyo, who remained unmoving, her breathing slow and steady as she slept, hoping she’d get up and answer it.

The knock came again, louder this time, dragging you out of your sleep with a groggy groan. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains. You glanced over at Jihyo, who was completely still, her soft breathing even and undisturbed.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, tossing the covers aside. The cold air pricked at your skin as you shuffled toward the door, your annoyance barely masked by your exhaustion.

The moment you opened it, the night air hit you—and so did the sight of Sana. Her smile stretched wide, but it wasn’t kind. It was sharp, calculated, with an edge that set your nerves on edge immediately.“Good,” she said, her voice smooth. “I was hoping you’d be the one to answer.”

Before you could even question her presence, her hand shot out, gripping your wrist. “Come on,” she said, pulling you outside with surprising force. “Let’s have a little chat.”

“Sana, what the hell—” Her nails dug into your skin, silencing your protest as she dragged you onto the porch. The night was quiet save for the occasional rustle of leaves, but there was nothing calm about the way she was staring at you. “What do you want?” you asked, your voice barely hiding your irritation. “What do I want?” she echoed, her smile turning colder. “I want to know what exactly is going on between you and Jihyo. What are you to her? ”

You froze, her question catching you off guard. “That’s none of your business,” you said cautiously, trying to pull your wrist free, but her grip only tightened.“Oh, it’s absolutely my business,” she said, leaning in closer. “Have you two...been intimate?”. Your cheeks burned at the bluntness of her question, but you refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “Why does that matter?” you managed, your voice firmer now.

Her laugh was bitter, almost mocking. “It matters because Jihyo is mine. She has always been mine. And I don’t care what little fairytale you’ve convinced yourself of, but this...this thing between you two? It ends now.”

“Sana, you need to leave,” you said, trying to sound firm, but the tension in your voice betrayed your unease.Her nails dug deeper into your wrist, making you wince. “Oh, you think I’m just going to walk away? Not a chance. I don’t think you understand who you’re fucking dealing with, Y/N.”

You glared at her, frustration bubbling to the surface. “And I don’t think you understand that Jihyo isn’t some possession for you to claim.” Her smile faltered for a moment, but then it returned, sharper than before. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, her voice dripping with venom. “Jihyo might not say she’s mine, but I know her better than you ever will. She comes back to me every time. And when she does, where will that leave you?”

You tried to keep your composure, but her words stung.“I’m not afraid of you,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. She chuckled darkly. “You should be. Because I don’t just make threats—I follow through. I will destroy everything you have, everything you care about. Your reputation? Gone. Your little facade of confidence? Shattered. And no one will even remember your name when I’m done.”

Her words felt like a slap, but you refused to let her see how much they affected you. “You’re pathetic,” you said quietly. “Trying to control someone who clearly doesn’t want to be with you. It’s all forced, it’s all business.” Her eyes flashed with anger, and her grip on your wrist tightened to the point of pain. “Don’t test me,” she hissed. “I’ve let you play your little game for long enough. This is your one and only warning: stay away from Jihyo. If you don’t, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Her voice was low and dangerous, each word hitting like a dagger. You could see the obsession in her eyes, the possessiveness that twisted her features into something cruel and unrecognizable. “Sana, you need help,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the fear creeping into your chest. Her laugh was hollow. “Help? Oh, sweetheart, I don’t need help. You do. Because you have no idea what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into.”

She finally released your wrist, and you stumbled back, cradling your arm where her nails had left deep, red indentations.

“Remember this,” she said, her tone icy. “Jihyo is mine. And if you think for a second that you can change that, you’re even more foolish than I thought.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving you standing there in the cold, her threats echoing in your mind. You closed the door slowly, leaning against it as your body trembled—not just from the cold, but from the weight of everything she’d said. You glanced down at your wrist, the faint marks serving as a cruel reminder of her venomous words.

As you made your way back to the bedroom, your steps were heavy with doubt. You looked at Jihyo, still sleeping soundly, her features soft and peaceful in the moonlight. For a brief moment, you let yourself wonder—was Sana right? But then you shook your head, pushing the thought away. Whatever was between you and Jihyo, it was real. You had to believe that.

Strategy 1: The Morning After

Sunlight streamed softly into the room, illuminating the scattered clothes on the floor and the faint rise and fall of Jihyo’s chest as she slept beside you. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to savor the quiet. Her arm was draped over your waist, her face buried in the crook of your neck.

You should’ve felt calm. Safe. But the unease that had been growing inside you for weeks gnawed at your chest like a dull ache.

Your phone buzzed harshly on the nightstand, breaking the fragile serenity of the morning. You reached for it quickly, careful not to wake Jihyo.

**Notification: "Rising Star Caught in Scandal—Leaked Photos Surface"**

Your heart sank as you opened your phone to a barrage of missed calls, texts, and notifications. The headlines were plastered across every major outlet. Fake photos. Accusations. Lies. Your name dragged through the mud.

“Y/N?” Jihyo’s groggy voice startled you. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, clutching the phone in your hands. “It’s nothing,” you murmured, but your voice betrayed you.

Her brow furrowed as she reached for her own phone. Her face hardened as she read the notifications, her once-soft expression replaced with something colder. “What the hell is this?”

“I don’t know!” you exclaimed, sitting up. “It’s not true, Jihyo. I didn’t do any of this.”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stared at her screen, scrolling through the headlines. “Do you have any idea how bad this looks?”

“Of course, I do!” you snapped, the panic in your voice growing. “But it’s not real! Someone—someone’s doing this to me.”

Her jaw clenched, and she stood up from the bed, running a hand through her hair. “You need to fix this. Immediately.”

The coldness in her tone stung more than you cared to admit. “Do you even believe me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jihyo paused, her lips parting as if to say something, but she shook her head instead. “I don’t know what to think, Y/N. I really don’t.”

---

Strategy 2: The Press Conference

Hours later, you were seated at a long table in front of dozens of reporters. The flashing lights from their cameras made your head pound, and their relentless questions felt like daggers.

“Y/N, over here!” a man called out. “Do you deny the allegations?”

“Is it true you tried to sabotage your peers to climb the ranks?” a woman asked, her voice laced with contempt.

You leaned into the microphone, gripping its base tightly to keep your hands from shaking. “These accusations are false,” you said, your voice cracking slightly. “The photos and messages were fabricated. I don’t know who’s behind this, but I would never—”

“Then how do you explain the evidence?” another reporter cut you off. “Are you saying the media is lying?”

“I’m saying someone is targeting me,” you said, your voice firm this time. “This isn’t the truth.”

“But why would someone go to these lengths unless there was some truth to it?” a younger reporter pressed.

You felt the walls closing in, the weight of their stares suffocating. “I—I can’t answer that,” you admitted, your voice faltering.

Momo sat beside you, her gaze sharp as she leaned forward. “This press conference is over,” she announced, standing. “We’ll issue an official statement later. No further questions.”

The reporters shouted over one another as you were escorted out.

Final Blow: The ballroom.

The grand ballroom was dazzling, filled with industry elites dressed to the nines. You wore a designer gown that hugged your frame perfectly, but you felt exposed, like every pair of eyes was dissecting you.

Jihyo walked beside you, her arm brushing yours, but the warmth you usually felt was gone. The space between you was more than physical—it was a chasm of doubt and unspoken words.

As you entered the room, the whispers started.

“Is that her?”

“Did you see the headlines?”

“She doesn’t even look ashamed.”

You kept your chin high, ignoring the sting of their words. Jihyo’s hand briefly grazed the small of your back as she guided you to your seats.

The event unfolded smoothly at first. But as the lights dimmed and the massive screen lit up, your heart stopped.

The screen displayed the necklace—the one that had caused so much trouble in your rookie days. Then came the photos: the broken pieces, the argument, and finally, the fake messages framing you as the saboteur.

The gasps from the crowd were deafening.

You turned to Jihyo, desperate to explain, but the look on her face shattered you. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her lips pressed into a trembling line.

“I thought I could trust you,” she said, her voice barely audible over the murmurs. “It really was you.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “It wasn’t me. You have to believe me.”

Her shoulders slumped as she took a step back. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

The weight of her words crushed you. Your breath hitched, and you looked around the room, the stares cutting into you like knives. That’s when you saw her—Sana, standing near the back, a satisfied smile on her lips.

Everything clicked.

You clenched your jaw, your fists trembling at your sides, but the humiliation was too much. You turned and bolted out of the ballroom, the voices of reporters and attendees chasing after you.

“Y/N, care to comment?”

“Is this the end of your career?”

“Do you regret what you’ve done?”

The words blurred together as tears clouded your vision. You barely noticed Momo pulling up outside the venue. She leapt out of the car, shoving past the paparazzi to reach you. “Get in the car,” she snapped, her voice firm but protective.

Once inside, you collapsed against her, sobbing into her shoulder.

“I can’t—I can’t do this anymore,” you choked out, your tears soaking her shirt.

Momo wrapped her arms around you tightly, her hand stroking your hair. “They don’t deserve you,” she muttered, her voice low and filled with rage. “Jihyo doesn’t deserve you. None of them do.”

Her words made you cry harder, your body trembling with the weight of everything.

Momo’s voice softened as she whispered, “I’m going to fix this. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll fix it.”

But deep down, you weren’t sure if anything could ever be fixed.

Nothing will.

The ride to Momo’s apartment had been quiet, save for the occasional sharp inhale you couldn’t stifle as you choked back tears. Momo had driven in near silence, glancing at you every so often, her jaw tight, her grip on the steering wheel firm.

When you finally arrived, Momo walked you to the guest bedroom without saying a word. As soon as the door shut behind you, it all came crashing down.

You collapsed onto the bed, burying your face into the pillows as the sobs tore from your chest. Your heart ached like it had been ripped apart, and your head pounded with every shuddering breath. You clutched at the fabric beneath you, trying to muffle your cries, but the pain was too much to contain.

Flashes of the past began to flood your mind. The yelling, the bruises, the punishment for every little mistake during your rookie days. The sharp sting of slaps across your face, the gut-wrenching humiliation when you didn’t meet expectations. You could still hear the cruel voices in your head:

"Fix your posture. Do it again. No, that’s wrong! Are you really this useless?"

You pulled at your hair in frustration, as if you could physically tear the memories out of your mind. The room felt like it was spinning, and your cries only grew louder.

Outside the door, Momo hesitated. You had locked it as soon as she left, and though she knocked gently a few times, you didn’t respond. “Y/N,” she called softly, her voice filled with concern. “I’m here if you want to talk, okay? Don’t keep it all in.”

But you didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

The next morning crept in sluggishly, though you hadn’t slept at all. Your eyes were red and swollen, your body felt like lead, and your throat ached from crying. You stared blankly at the ceiling, the sunlight streaming in through the curtains doing nothing to warm the icy knot in your chest.

Momo had left early for her part-time job, leaving you alone in the apartment. You were grateful for the solitude, though it did little to ease the storm inside you.

When a knock sounded at the front door, you assumed it was Momo returning because she’d forgotten something. Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled to the door and opened it cautiously.

Your heart sank.

There stood Sana, her lips twisted into a smug, almost predatory smile. Her presence was suffocating.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, your voice hoarse and shaky.

Her smile widened. “I figured you’d be here. Jihyo always said this was your little safe haven. Funny, isn’t it? Running to Momo every time things get hard. Do you ever fight your own battles, or is hiding all you’re good at?”

You moved to close the door, but Sana was quicker. She slammed her hand against it, forcing it open with such strength that you stumbled backward.

“Don’t walk away from me,” she hissed, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her.

“What do you want?” you demanded, trying to mask the fear bubbling inside you.

“What I want,” she began, her voice dripping with venom, “is for you to get out of Jihyo’s life. You don’t deserve her. You never did.”

“You don’t know anything about me or Jihyo,” you snapped, but your voice faltered, betraying your unease.

Sana’s smile twisted into something cruel. “Oh, but I do. She tells me everything. About how needy you are, how much of a burden you’ve become. Did you really think she cared about you? God, you’re delusional.”

Your chest tightened, but you stood your ground. “Get out,” you said, your voice firmer this time.

Sana’s eyes narrowed, and before you could react, she grabbed your wrist, her nails digging into your skin. “You’re nothing but a pest, Y/N. A leech. Do you know how much better her life would be without you? You’re just dragging her down.”

You tried to pull away, but her grip tightened. “Let go of me,” you said, panic creeping into your tone.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she snarled, shoving you against the wall. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain through your back. “She’ll never love you. You’re nothing to her. Nothing!”

The tears you’d been holding back threatened to spill, but you refused to let her see you break. “You’re insane,” you whispered.

“And you’re pathetic,” she shot back, knocking over a chair as she paced angrily around the room. “Do you even know why Jihyo hated you in the first place? Why everyone thought you were a conniving little bitch?”

Your breath hitched as she continued.

“That necklace,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. “You didn’t sabotage it. I did. I made sure it would all fall apart, and you were stupid enough to take the blame. And look at you now—still stupid, still a mess.”

The room fell silent. Her confession hung in the air like a bomb waiting to detonate.

“What did you just say?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Sana smirked, opening her mouth to respond, but a third voice cut through the tension.

“Sana.”

Both of you turned toward the door.

Jihyo stood there, her face pale, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and fury. In one hand, she held a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, now crushed in her grip.

“Sana,” she repeated, her voice shaking. “You… you did this?”

Sana faltered, her confident facade cracking. “Jihyo, it’s not—”

“You lied to me,” Jihyo said, stepping forward. Her voice rose with each word, her anger palpable. “You manipulated me. You hurt her. And now you’re here? Doing this?”

“I did it for us!” Sana cried, desperation seeping into her tone. “Don’t you see? She’s ruining everything! You and I—”

“There is no ‘you and I,’” Jihyo snapped, shoving Sana back. “You’re fired. Don’t come near me. Don’t come near her. Ever again.”

Sana’s face twisted with rage, but she didn’t fight back. She cast one last hateful glare at you before storming out, slamming the door behind her.

As the door closed, Jihyo’s anger melted into something softer. She rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she cupped your face. “Are you okay?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

You couldn’t answer. The weight of everything was too much, and the tears you’d fought so hard to hold back finally spilled over.

Jihyo pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly as you sobbed into her shoulder.

“Y/N..” She spoke up.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

[cherrysurf]

Tall blonde and evil! | Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader

chapter 6; stupid interview

Today was the interview for the 2024 hottest man event. It was really important to bakugou whether he said it or not. You woke up really early to get ready and prep yourself just in case you get bombarded by the paparazzi or news reporters that linger around by the studio,

You groan “how can he still be rude even he’s probably nervous and maybe that’s just provoking his angry more” you think as your in the cafe waiting in line, you get his order and rush out the cafe into the car and tell the chauffeur to get bakugou now you text him telling him you’ve arrived, he walks out looking composed but you can’t tell if it’s a facade or not the way his face showed no emotion. He gets into the car and you hand him his breakfast you hear him murmur a small thanks as he starts eating, while you are replying to some emails on your laptop “you eat?” he says looking at you as he sips on his coffee “yeah woke up early enough to do so” you say eyes still focused on the screen in front of you “shocking” he said taking a bite of his food, you simply throw him a him a confused glance and then ignore him, you definitely didn’t want to argue or create unnecessary drama between the two of you, these next two days are going to be hectic so for now it was a mutual understanding that it was going to be more so getting through this calmly and professionally than the way you two have been acting as of late “you nervous” you asking him as you two pull into the studio “eh nah i’ve got this.” he says looking out the window “i’d hope so” you say, as you come to a stop to get out the car bakugou opens his door just as you were about to do the same it catches you off guard than rather him walking to the entrance he walks around to your side to open the door, you shocked try to compose yourself as fast as possible before the press get the wrong idea. as you get out and say thank you to him he shuts the door and starts walking ahead of you not wanting to be bombarded by the press as you walk all you hear from the press and new ladies “wow what a gentleman” “he’s so gonna win hottest man award” “i want to be his next manager for sure.” you try to hide your annoyed expression after hearing those stupid remarks because they don’t understand how difficult he is. As you walk into the studio you come to find out bakugou is already whisked away to hair and makeup, you find a seat near the cameras to watch everyone prepare for the interview, bakugou soon walks in and takes a seat, he finds himself looking through sea of cameras and stage crew to see you there seated waiting for this to take place, the show host soon finds a seat herself already gawking at the fact that bakugou is near her, you just let out an eye roll at the fact that she’s head over heels. “Okay everyone, we're starting in 3 ... .2 ... .1 and action!” the producer says “Hey folks today i’m here with special guest katsuki bakugou, welcome to the show.” she said, giving him and a small round of applause “thanks for having me i appreciate it” he said in a neutral tone “so tell me everything bakugou! How does it feel to be nominated for the award?” she says giving him the biggest doe eyes “it’s good i mean i'm not surprised i appreciate my fans for it.” he says looking at her with little to no emotion “i know you definitely have my vote” she says laughing “anywho so as of recently we’ve heard that your manager is the longest one you’ve had in a while, How does she do it?” the lady asks with a hint of coated jealousy “well she just competent i guess, that’s what the others lacked” he said shrugging which made you face palm at his response, “mmh interesting, well what about your love life?” she says with a bit more happiness “i don’t have time to date or silly flings. I take my career seriously, and very much dislike false rumors about myself” he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice “we love a man focused on himself, okay last question before we run out of time.” she says “what’s the one piece of advice for your fans out there or people who want to pursue modeling like you” she continues “grow a backbone and be humble, don’t forget where you started from.” he said looking at the camera “wow so inspiring” the lady said holding her hands together.

“well that’s all the time we have folks hope you enjoy and don’t forget to vote bakugou for this year’s hottest man award!” she said “CUT” the producer yelled, yet you're still in a trance after hearing those words come out of bakugou's mouth you’ve never heard him say something so meaningful? dare you say, it was like a side of him you haven’t seen or met before shocked that it was there. You snap out of it when he thanks everyone and gets up to leave, you quickly stand up and follow along. When he’s stopped by the host “hey do you possibly need a date for the event?” she asks batting her lashes at him, you almost wanting to vomit a the sight “no thank you im not interested in a scandal with some host respectfully.” he said in a stern tone and walked away you wanted to laugh at the sight but figured you’d laugh about it once you got home. The car ride back home was silent, you were still shell shocked after his words though, “did i do good?” he said looking at you, you snap out of it once more and nod while saying “yeah really good actually” with a sincere voice “i knew it” he said laughing in an ugly yet funny way “im the best” he said gloating. For once you didn’t feel the need to fight him back on it, at least not right now all you could do was smile a bit.

when you got to his place you bid him a farewell “see you tomorrow night don’t look ugly, i don’t want people to think my manager sucks people know i need to have the best of the best” he says waving a lazy goodbye “right. bye bakugou.” and then he turns to look at you “oh by the way i’m picking you up tomorrow so. Don’t worry about that.” he said and turns to walk away. leaving you with a flush red cheeks “gosh what has he done to me.” you say.

going to try to speed run this fic rn guys 🙏🏻 after this and the event chapter im going to be doing the new years special so stay tuned for that!

taglist; @kalulakunundrum @sweetadonisbutbetter @rednicotine @ikissfade @bakugouswh0r3 @allurearia @themultifandomgirl @junehasnotbeenfound @darhinadadragon @kodzubaby @harryzcherry @sahrii @kholethecutie @s4ikooo1 @babylambdietcoke @lover-no-lover61 @sikuthealien @homeless-clown @bookaholicfangirl4life @idexmids

[fandoms-in-law]

Robin had been hanging around all morning, watching as Steve wrote out his final cards for the kids and added toys into the music tin with them. “So is this the last day they’re getting treats from you? Or have you got some Christmas gifts on top of everything else you’ve given them this month?” She asked.

“This is the last thing I’m giving them. Christmas day is for family, anyway. Not like they’re going to want to come see me tomorrow.” He muttered, glancing over just in time to see her face scrunch a bit like she disagreed with that statement.

“And that’s why you’re set up as if there’s a party expected?” She pointed at the snacks that had been put out just before Steve filled the music box.

He barely looked at them. “You’ve seen those shitheads, right? They act like any trip to my house is a party.”

She tilted her head in a half nod, accepting the reasoning just as they heard a vehicle pull up outside. “And I bet that’s them having badgered Eddie to bring them all.”

“Nope, Erica has a friends Christmas party today. I think Lucas will be taking hers.” Steve corrected, sealing the music box and leaving it on a side table as he went to open the door.

“The Nerd said we’re celebrating here first today, but you better have ice cream and be ready to take me to Tina’s.” Erica greeted, walking past him immediately.

Everyone else filed in behind her, Eddie laughing a little at her words.

Steve called after her, “If I must, I must, but why can’t Eddie? Am I expected to let these guys run wild while I’m out?”

“Ice cream, Harrington! I want some now.” She demanded, ignoring the question.

“Not a waiter, try the kitchen.” He rolled his eyes, heading back to Robin, “Do I need to decide which of you opens the final day I’m doing that this year, or have you already decided?” He pointed at the music box and the kids all glanced to each other.

Lucas eventually stepped over to it, huffing towards the kitchen, “Erica had insisted she would but if all she wants now is ice cream, I’ll do it.”

“Doesn’t being Scoops Troop mean I get to when she doesn’t?” Dustin protested but didn’t move to stop him, “I swear that should overrule siblings.”

“It doesn’t. Platonic soulmates would, but that’s me and Steve, not you brats.” Robin said.

By this time Lucas had opened the tin and was passing out envelopes to everyone, leaving the reindeer toys inside it for the moment.

Max held hers up smirking, “Couldn’t stop yourself from giving us envelopes again, could you? How expensive can we make these?”

“Not very, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to make them annoying to fill anyway.” Steve matched her smirk, waiting for the rest to all open their envelopes before coughing, “And the rest, Lucas?”

Lucas nodded, turning back to get the reindeers out, “Can I cash my movie night now? You did bring some other Christmas movies home yesterday, right?” He asked, gesturing with his envelope as he handed the toys around to each of his friends.

“Sure, but I thought you guys would like some races first.” Steve shrugged at the suggestion, smirk widening at the groans that broke out.

El tilted her head, looking at her friends, “Why are races bad?”

“He’s trying to make us exercise again, El. This isn’t meant to be a work out.” Mike complained.

“But the reindeer can wind up, don’t they move like those toys you showed me before?” She asked Max now.

Narrowed eyes turned on Steve from Will and Mike, “You meant race the toys? Or are you talking about running?”

“The reindeer, but thanks for repeating your disdain for exercise you already do. Is cycling everywhere unless Eddie or I agree to give you a lift not exercise to you?” Steve quipped, pulling a large page he’d drawn a race line on over. El, Lucas and Max setting their reindeer down on it almost as soon as it was settled on the floor.

The other boys looked like they were trying to argue but didn’t have any response even after Erica came back through, a bowl of ice cream in hand. “Really is a party this time, dorky games and all. Where’s mine?” She asked, soon taking her movie night voucher and reindeer toy from where Lucas had set them beside the music tin.

Steve hadn’t been sure how the kids would like the music tin when he first added sweets into it, but it really had made his Christmas time a lot less lonely than he’d thought it might be. He loved these kids, and loved getting them to hang out with him a bit more often.

The Advent Music Box

Author's note: Doing this on a whim and the fact work gave me the music box inspiring this

Summary: Steve is sent a care package from his parents at the start of December

/\

It started with a music box.

Steve’s parents had sent him a care package that arrived on the first of December and in it was some snacks, a few items clearly intended as Christmas presents and the music box.

There was a sticker on it saying there were cookies inside it too but he took most of the morning to figure out that instead of taking a lid off like most tins needed, he had to remove the bottom of the music box.

That was what gave him the idea to fill it and challenge the kids to get the treats from inside. Since they didn’t actually go to his house very often he took it into Family Video, sure at least one of the kids would turn up sooner or later.

Perhaps he could even swing seeing them every day if he said he’d fill it with at least something small for them each day.

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

so i got my bone density scan results and … only my spine gained density and my hips got worse and all my mom replied with to the results was you need to exercise 😩

[dykedvonte]

I was rewatching mouthwashing, and I ended up thinking of the different reactions that Curly and Jimmy had in doing their tasks. How during the scene of Anya evaluating Jimmy and showing dread towards the idea of doing his evaluation, Curly was the one that offered to take it off her hands. He had no issue with adding more to his plate, because he knew - or well, thought, he knew that Jimmy wasn't going to "bullshit" with him since he's known him for a long time. When Anya hands Curly a note from Swansea, Curly goes to check out what the issue is and he takes care of it without a complaint, the only "complaint" he has is how this incident could have damaged the pods. Which is reasonable, those pods are their only way to be saved if anything tragic happens on the ship. However, in comparison to Jimmy being asked to do things, he's passive-aggressive about it. When Anya asks Jimmy if he could help her out with Curly's painkillers, he tells her that people should be worth their titles, specifically using her title as a nurse when she asked him for help and then when she says forget it, since he made her feel insecure, he still goes "Oh no, I'LL take care of it" as if he was doing a chore, a favor for her. Then, there's that part where he blows up at her for things that she didn't even ask him to do - more so the others asked him about it, like the code scanner, him deciding he needed to find the axe for the foam, and then, there's the medicine part (which when she does ask, and she reconsiders - going to do it herself, he takes that away from her). Jimmy complains about the tasks he has to do and he treats it like a big issue, a "woes me" that he has to do this and that - wanting the praise of the capital without actually doing any work. While Curly doesn't complain about it, in fact, he even mentions that he's aware of how well he is doing at his job as a Captain during that cockpit scene with him and Jimmy. If Jimmy only had to do a small amount of tasks to get irritated and annoyed at being captain, while Curly didn't which I feel like encapsulates their personalities. Curly understands what he's doing is a job, it's a responsibility, why would he complain at any point for doing what he's suppose too? Why would he be upset at people asking him to do tasks? While Jimmy on the other hand, isn't used to it at all and it's different to what he's had before and he's realizing that he doesn't actually like doing the work he has too. I just wanted to ramble about it even if it seemed kind of obvious xd

It’s obvious but it is a thing people miss or understate when trying to find parallels in Curly’s and Jimmy’s relationship/personalities.

Like the way people portray it as neither taking responsibility when it is almost split down the middle of Curly taking responsibilities and faults that shouldn’t be his and making himself unequipped to handle the ones that are while Jimmy refuses to handle the responsibilities he has because he wasn’t expecting the work that comes with them.

Not a lot to say but people forget that another thing the game comments on is prioritization of issues and responsibilities and how the guys fail at it in one way or another in the situation.

[padfootastic]

i am so tired of female characters being inherently written as ‘terrifying’ or ‘scary’ w no respect to their characterisation.

for one, it feels so fake. i know so many women irl (i am one!!!) and there are very few, of any, that i would categorise as ‘scary as is’. heck, even if we go by tempers—the numbers just don’t match.

but somehow in fics, every single woman is a terrifying force of nature bc that’s…somehow…the only way we can think of women? idk?

and also just, it’s such a two dimensional characterisation that i only see w the female characters. all men aren’t angry and hex-happy and scary all the time. they’re affable, chill, respond to situations thoughtfully instead of always resorting to violence.

i think it also bothers me bc the anger thing flows neatly into the v gendered carefree man child/stuck up fun sponge stereotypes that so many relationships are forced into. it’s just an icky dynamic all around.

and lastly,,,i don’t think it’s even normal for a character to be latently terrifying everyone all the time??? unless it’s a specific quirk of theirs??? like women aren’t dementors bro chill tf out

[kimetsu-chan]

I went on a walk with my dad

[mxtxfanatic]

Y’all will learn today that I mean wtf I say when I talk about overarching themes and messages in mxtx novels. Your personal discomfort with analyzing these stories outside of the box of “the ONE story” is why these fandoms continue to churn out the most atrocious ass takes directly refuted by the stories, themselves. Either read the books for what they are, or stick to the rivers and lakes that you’re used to.

[raedas]

i’m going to cry mock trial board is going 2 suck so hard this year.

[deus-ex-mona]

you’re my angel!!

[stonesandswords]

.

[mechamangamonkey]

ugh, god, this is that same Christian™ nurse who posted a bunch of videos a while back where she was on this tear about abstinence-only sex ed and kept saying shit like “you guys can hate me all you want, but at the end of the day the best way to prevent unplanned pregnancy and the spread of stds is still abstinence! 😇😇😇”

like, yeah, no, we know that; obviously, the best way to prevent potential adverse consequences of sex is by not having it, in the same way that the best way to prevent falling down a flight of stairs is by getting on an elevator—that doesn’t make installing a damn handrail on the staircase any less of a good idea though! ‘cause some people are gonna choose the stairs. some people are also gonna choose to fuck. there are things that can make both of those activities much safer for the people who choose to do them, and a fucking healthcare provider of all people certainly shouldn’t be stigmatizing those things or the choices they’re associated with!

[lesbiansanemi]

I hate my roommate’s cat more and more with every passing day

[beatlespussy]

dropping this here bc the fic its part of is kind of not working. He Left A Twenty Four Year Old Freak With A Baby