#just thought it would be a little funny thing for me

[alanisstonedd]

marine!rafe getting home with a fresh buzzcut and some stubble bullying his fattttt cock into you as soon as he can... the dirty talk would be nasty as hell

LIKE COME ONNNNNNN.

cw: MDNI smuttttttyyyy, nasty nasty talk, p in v, light choking, little cum play, rough sex

an: i love him hes so nasty its romantic & writing ts was TOO fun

OKAY dude doesn't even give you a chance to breathe before he's kicking the door shut behind him, the sharp slam echoing through the house. his fresh buzzcut catches the dim light of your entryway, beautiful tattoos rippling along with his muscles, and the rough stubble on his jaw scratches DELICIOUSLY against your skin as he crashes his lips against yours. yall are both so desperate its not even funny, practically heaving into each others mouths, too excited to slow down for even a second.

hes always away for such long periods of time, it rlly hurts him :( all he has is his extensive collection of nasty pics and vids of you to hold him over, poor baby, tugging his dick every night to the thought of fucking his sexy girl again.

but once hes backkkkk girl his big hands are everywhere at once, gripping your hips, sliding up under your shirt, pressing so possessively into your lower back. "fuck, baby," he groans into your mouth, voice thick with all that pent-up hunger from deployment he spent every second of yearning for you. "you taste even sweeter than i remember" he can't help but lick over every inch of skin he can get to, wanting to taste you fully for all the nights he couldn't, "its all that whip' cream you put on me before you left rafe" you giggle into his neck, reveling in his total worship of you.

girl he wastes absolutely no time, lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, his hard cock pressing insistently against your core through his army fatigues. yall would probably dry hump until you both cum all over yourselves if you didn't miss the delicious rush of fucking each other so much. and the GROWLS when you grind down against him?? you just end up grinding 10x harder, trying to catch your clit on him - hes so fine it makes you that much more hungry to cum all over him.

he'll bully you down onto the nearest surface, barely breaking your heated kiss to tear your clothes off like its his literal mission. his eyes glaze over, jaw clenched as he frees his thick cock, already hot, flushed, and leaking at the tip - hes actually been thinking about this since the moment he left.

he teases you, like he consistently loves to do upon arriving home, lovingggg the way your face mirrors the same frustration he felt for you the entirety of his deployment. he licks his lips, bottom one pinned by his top teeth, sliding his cock head through your dripping entrance, watching your face scrunch up with anticipation, and your breath skipping in your heaving chest.

"look at you, baby," he breathes harshly, feeling his own chest clench at how sexy you look all disheveled. he missed you like hell - and he most definitely missed that pre-fuck hazy look you give him. hes sliding justttttt the head inside, stretching you slowly. "already fuckin' soaked, you been waitin' for this cock, huh baby?" hes so locked in that he can't concentrate on one thing, whipping his head up and down trying to see everything at once - the way he stretches you so nicely all the way up to your face relaxing and straining in pleasure.

his head dives into your neck to lick at you, stubble scratching your chest, "yes, fuck—rafe, please," you whine. your hips canting beneath him, you wish he'd just fuck you already, so frustrated with his torture. his thumb will alwayssss find your clit, circling firmly just how you like until you're legs are shaking, eyes rolling back into your head.

"begging already? c'mon, baby, i barely started," he smirks, pushing in deeper, inch by devastating fucking inch. "whose pussy is this? tell me" unfortunately he can't help but play with his food, LOVING the way your body practically begs for him, finally back where you belong - on his dick ofc.

"it's yours—fuck, rafe, it's yours," you gasp, the air feeling too thick in the fog created by his extremely unhurried movements, nails digging into his muscular shoulders, streaking his intricate tattoos with bright red.

"damn right," he growls, FINALLY sinking in to the hilt, full balls pressing tight against your ass. he immediately sets a brutal pace, hips snapping forward relentlessly, cock dragging against your walls, perfectly hitting every spot left untouched for so long. "gonna fuck your beautiful ass so stupid, make sure you never forget the only dick that fills you up like this."

his hand wraps loosely around your throat, forcing you to meet his intense blue-eyed gaze. "you missed me, huh? missed bein' stuffed full every fuckin' night. don't worry, bae—imma spend alllllllll night remindin' you."

and girl you BEEN spiraling for a minute now, body clenching soo tight around him, sparkling tears of pleasure blurring your vision. he grins - that absolutely wicked rafe grin - grinding deep, his dog tags and chain jingling with every powerful thrust. "cum on my cock, baby. drain my balls."

and LITERALLY at his command you shatter violently, crying out like a whore as your vision goes white, your pussy spasming uncontrollably around him. and ofc instead of slowing down, rafe grabs your hips even tighter, fingers bruising your skin as he pounds into you even HARDER, chasing his own release down like an enemy target - he'd fuck you through an earthquake in this state... more like - fuck you so hard an earthquake actually starts.

"fuck... look at that messy pussy," he groans like a pervert, licking into your mouth, wishing you could taste yourself on his tongue. "makin' such a fuckin' mess for me baby," he growls, voice strained with lust and hunger. but he pulls out abruptly, flipping you onto your stomach and thrusting back inside like he needs you to feel it deep in your guts - MEANNN. his huge palm smacking your ass sharply, leaving it stinging and hot. "gonna fill you up, fuckin' ruin you, baby. you're not walkin' tomorrow."

he leans forward, teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispers so deep and harsh, "and this pussy better not even dream of another dick. you hear me? i'm fuckin' claiming you from the inside out." you moan out like a complete slut, his words sending a delicious thrum through your core.

"y-yes—fuck— rafe, it's all yours," you whimper brokenly, practically hiccuping, overstimulated and absolutely wrecked.

he grunts loudly, "fuck—i love you so fuckin' much bae", finally unloading inside you with thick, hot ropes of cum, so deep you swear you can taste it, salty zing in the back of your throat. "i love you baby—i love you s-so much" you groan, in complete bliss at the feel of his warm cum spilling out of you. panting heavily, he leans over your trembling form, licking and sucking at the salty sweat on your neck.

"welcome home, baby," you whisper-laugh, voice already hoarse from screaming, grinning at him like a fool, still shaking beneath him.

he chuckles darkly, slowly grinding his hips to fuck his cum even deeper into you. "baby, we're just gettin' started. im fuckin' you all night, nasty girl." he murmurs the last bit against your lips, getting lost in your sweetness all over again as your tongues mingle. you squeek happily from a firm smack to your booty, "mmm, delicious... fuckin' made for me.."

©  alanisstonedd 2025 — do not steal, plagiarize, or modify my content.

hope y'all liked this! likes, reblogs and all the rest are much appreciated!!!

xoxo, lana 💋💋💋

[eunandonly]

FAKE DATING WITH BOYNEXTDOOR

fake dating boynextdoor was easy–until it started feeling real

( 対 ) boynextdoor + fem. reader 1477WC · fake dating trope contains! fake dating, skinship, language / archive

은 : i'm going to try my best to be a bit more active on blr now that i'm on spring break >< i hope you guys enjoy this fic!! ily <3

myung jaehyun 

when you ask myung jaehyun to fake date, he agrees to it immediately, flashing you that signature smirk. it almost worries you when you see the grin. you know he’s up to absolutely no good.

he treats it like a game at first, but you find the way he slips into the role so effortlessly almost unnerving. he throws his arm over your shoulder in public, calling you “babe” without hesitation and teases you whenever you get flustered. 

“you’re blushing,” he whispers, lips barely grazing your ear as you try to keep your face neutral. “are you falling for me already?”

cocky bastard.

jaehyun finds your reactions entertaining, but there’s a strange possessiveness in the way he glares at anyone who talks to you, or looks at you a bit too long. he nearly punches a guy trying to get your phone number, and when you call him out, he just shrugs, claiming that it “needs to be convincing.”

he takes you by surprise by remembering little things about you, how you take your coffee, your favourite snack. he brushes it off with a casual “a boyfriend would do this.” 

but the longer this goes on, the less it feels fake. you catch him staring when he thinks you’re not looking, his teasing flirty remarks losing its playfulness. 

“you know,” he says one day, his voice softer than usual. “i think I might've forgotten to pretend.”

park sungho

sungho hesitates when you first tell him your idea. you tell him it’s a great idea; fake dating so that you can get your ex boyfriend back, and he can get back his ex girlfriend. killing two birds with one stone, you say. sungho’s not too sure, but he gives in after some begging from your side.

sungho isn’t sure why, but the thought of pretending to be your boyfriend makes him unreasonably nervous. 

at first, he’s awkward–stuttering over pet names, clearing his throat when you hold his hand. but he still finds himself holding doors open for you, carrying your things without being asked, offering you his jacket when the weather gets chilly. the first time you kiss him, it’s on the cheek, and sungho practically freezes, ears tomato red as he tries his best to avoid your gaze. 

“we should practice more,” he says out of the blue one day. “it needs to be convincing.”

you’re quick to tell him that you’re already being convincing, that it’s him that’s the problem.

sungho’s careful with boundaries, always asking, ‘is this okay?” before touching you in any way. but then things start shifting, there’s no denying it. he texts you good morning without thinking, lingers a little too long after fixing your scarf, gets defensive when someone asks about your relationship. 

park sungho doesn’t realise he’s falling until it’s too late.

“i don’t want this to be fake anymore,” he says one night, standing outside your door whilst fidgeting with his sleeves. “forget about my ex, i want you.”

lee sanghyuk

riwoo finds the whole situation really fucking funny. 

“fake dating? how desperately do you want that asshole back? yeah, i’ll do it, it’s gonna be so fun.”

yeah well, it's fun. for him.

from the moment you two announce your “relationship”, he plays it up like you’re in some kind of terribly cliche, terribly cheesy romance movie, throwing dramatic love confessions at random.

“my love, i would walk through fire for you!” he declares loudly in the school hallway, before snickering as you try your best to do damage control to no avail. 

riwoo’s constantly teasing, winking at you in class and whispering stupid things like, “careful, you might actually fall for me.” just to see your face redden in embarrassment. but then there are moments when he tones it down, and it’s a bit too natural–the way he rests his head on your shoulder when he’s tired, or the way his hand absentmindedly finds yours.

“why’re you blushing?” he teases, but he’s blushing too. 

the problem is, he never knows himself when he’s joking and when he’s being serious. he tells himself it’s just an act, just a way for you to get back your dickhead boyfriend who looks like a two out of ten. but he finds his heart stuttering when you look at him just right. 

and soon, riwoo finds himself wishing the act would never end. 

one day he turns to you, his usual stupid grin plastered on his face, but there’s something softer behind it. 

“so, uh, what if we didn’t stop fake dating?”

han dongmin

when you ask han taesan to be your fake boyfriend to make you ex jealous, he barely reacts. barely even raises his head, murmuring, “sure,” as if you just asked him to pass the salt. 

annoying little bitch.

but beneath his cool, nonchalant exterior (that’s what he thinks), his mind is racing.

he’s not the person for over-the-type gestures, but he shows affection in the smallest ways–remembering your favourite drink order, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, pulling you closer when walking near traffic. you applaud his for being boyfriend material and make a point to very loudly wonder why he’s never had a girlfriend before remembering, aha, his personality is shit.

han taesan insists he doesn’t care about pda, but if someone questions your relationship, he’ll kiss your cheek without a second thought. 

“see? believable.” he says, ignoring the way his heart is pounding. he does it so naturally that even he forgets it’s fake sometimes. he texts you late at night to check if you’ve eaten and gets irritated when other guys get too close. but taesan’s stubborn, and he spends most of his time gaslighting himself that he doesn’t like you like that, brushing it off as just an act. 

then one day, he catches himself staring, thinking how you look a little bit too pretty, hands itching to reach for yours. 

“you said i’m boyfriend material, right?” he asks, catching you by surprise.

“yeah sure.”

“ok, well how about you give up on your shitty ex and we date for real? i’m like, hotter than him too.”

kim donghyun

leehan takes the whole fake dating thing very, very seriously. when you tell him about your ideas, he looks more determined than you, face serious as he says, “if we’re going to do this, we really have to sell it.” you end up having to ask him if he has an ex girlfriend he wants back, because there’s no way he should be this invested in the whole plan.

he makes you practice with him; holding hands, casual touches, so it looks natural. but the more you two practice, the more it starts feeling real. he’s always respectful, never crossing boundaries and always asking if you’re comfortable. but he’s a little too good at being a boyfriend. he ties your shoelaces when they come undone, carries your bag without you asking and smiles at you in a way that makes your heart ache. 

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask one day when you catch him staring at you in the restaurant on one of your fake dates. 

leehan just grins. “because you’re cute.”

it’s moments like these that make you forget this isn’t real. but then he starts getting flustered–hesitating before calling you pet names, looking away too quickly when you catch him staring. he’s the first to realise his feelings, but it takes him forever to act on them.

one evening, he exhales deeply before turning to you. “so… what if we kept dating?” he asks, nervous but hopeful. “for real this time?”

kim woonhak

woonhak is way too excited to date you. yeah, it’s fake, but he’s still technically dating you. he’s already planning out cute couple photos. 

woonhak fully commits, calling you cute nicknames, being your personal hype boy, and practically beaming with excitement when you’re around.

you think he’s kind of cute.

“this is my girlfriend,” woonhak announces to everyone, holding your hand. “she’s so pretty isn’t she? yeah, well she’s super smart as well, and-”

he’s affectionate without realising–holding your hand, fixing your hair, resting his chin on your shoulder. it’s all a joke to him at first, but then he starts feeling weird.

why does his heart race when you smile at him? why does he hate seeing other people flirt with you?

“i’m not jealous,” he insists, but his pout says otherwise. 

one day, you joke about breaking up just to see his reaction, and he gasps dramatically.

“if we ‘break up, i’m keeping the dog we don’t have.” 

but behind the playful tone, there’s real fear. he’s known for a while now, this isn’t fake to him anymore. one evening, as you’re walking home together, he suddenly blurts out, “wait, you didn’t know? i fell for you ages ago.”

[captain-huggy-bear]

can you do the tiktok prank i can’t pay the mortgage this month with clayton, i feel like his reaction would be so funny

Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

"Clay..." You're twisting your hands together, shoulders hunched while you bite on your lip. The sort of look that screams nervous, something you very rarely are around Clayton. It stops him dead in his tracks where he's playing with Lucky because you're never nervous like that around him, because you have no reason to be...you look like you think you're going to be in trouble.

"What's wrong, baby?" He's assessing you, eyes scanning you almost urgently from head to toe, like he expects to see something wrong with you. A cut, a bruise, maybe you accidentally broke something and think he'll be mad (which he'd never be).

"I'm really sorry..." He's expecting you to tell him you broke something, maybe knocked a glass off the side or maybe you tried to play some golf (which you're notoriously bad at) on the green outside and broke a window or something.

"Hey, hey, whatever it is, it's okay, baby." Clay's reaching for you easily, simply, hands cupping your cheeks because the last thing he wants is you to worry that he'll get mad at you for something like an accident. You're clumsy, it happens. Lucky is whining at your feet, feeding off Clay's worry, wet nose pressing into your leg.

"I just, I can't pay my share of the mortgage this month, Clay, I bought too many hockey cards." You force a little wobble to your bottom lip as you stare up at him with wide eyes, internally giggling at the way he freezes.

It would be fair to say he short circuits a little, freezes, hands against your cheeks as his expression shifts from soft and soothing to completely and utterly confused. Eyebrow raised, scar shifting with it as he looks down at you like you've hit your head, like maybe you're concussed.

"Sweet girl, you've never paid any of the mortgage." His voice is slow, careful because what are you going on about? You've literally never paid the mortgage, he's always refused to let you because he earns so much more than you.

"I just...I can't pay it..."

"Baby." Long fingers slide down to your throat, resting there in reassuring weight as his other hand brushes your hair behind your ear, "Even if you could, why the fuck would I let you pay a mortgage on a house when I earn $7 million a year?" It's a point of pride really for Clay, always has been. He takes care of you. That's his thing. He earns enough so that your own money can be spent on frivolous things, things you enjoy rather than necessities. The idea of him ever letting you pay for the mortgage is actually offensive to him, do you think he's some bum who can't even take care of his girl?

"But-"

"Uh, no. Who am I, baby?" The grip on your throat tightens, not painful, just firm, a reminder that he's there. More reassuring than anything as his thumb rubs the hollow of your throat.

"Clayton Keller..." You mumble it out, lips pursed which seems to him like you're feeling scolded. In reality you're pursing your lips so you don't laugh out loud.

"Good girl, and who am I to you?"

"My fiancé..."

"Okay, good, I thought you forgot for a minute because last I checked, no fiancé of mine is paying the fucking mortgage. That's my main job, to take care of you so that you don't have to worry and can buy all your hockey cards of me." Because they're almost all of Clay. It's your silly little thing. That you collect any and every card of him you can find, that you sit there and show him each one and he patiently nods his head and oohs and ahhs over them.

"Clay..." You're trying to stop his ranting, the way he's getting redder in the face, nostrils flaring because you've ever contemplated paying for the mortgage of all things. It's cute, in the sort of way that Clay can be when he's adamant about something.

"No, I'm serious, baby, if you think for a second I'd let you pay the mortgage you're insane. My job is to take care of you and if I ever let you pay the mortgage? Get Bainer to come beat the crap out me." He's already contemplating phoning Jack right now to set it in writing 'if I ever let my girl pay for the mortgage please take me out back and break my nose', seems like a quick way to get him back to his senses.

"Clay!"

"And who put this idea into your head because I actually canno-"

"Clay! I'm joking! Baby...I know, I know I've never paid the mortgage and I never will...I know." You're laughing as you interrupt him, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers twisting in his chains as you grin from ear to ear.

"...you're joking..." The looks he gives you is blank, eyes blinking slowly as if he's still just about processing the fact that he didn't actually need to get so upset in the first place. Lucky is whining at your feet, pawing at Clay's leg and you feel a little bad because Clay looks so so done.

"It's a stupid tiktok trend, baby..."

He groans, face planting itself on your shoulder, murmuring into your shirt, "Delete that fucking app."

"Nope, if I did that I'd never get to see you all cutely defensive of your ability to look after me." You run your fingers through his hair, it's grown longer, more shoulder length now than anything else. Your nails scratch across his scalp in a way that eases some of his prior frustration.

"I can take care of you."

"I know, you take such good care of me, Clay, the best." You huff out a laugh as you twist strands of his hair between your fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of his hair because you really do feel bad...

"Damn right I do."

[dailyaventurinedoodles]

After quite a bit of thought, I think I’d like to change my schedule. I think I’m a little burnt out from drawing the same thing every day (though recently I’ve missed many without saying anything, sorry about that) and I’m going to start posting doodles when I wish to, instead of practically forcing myself to every day. I think that will improve my attitude and the general quality of my doodles. I am definitely not leaving this blog though. I will be staying active and posting frequently, but just moving away from daily doodles. Might have to change my name or smth.. we’ll see about that.

I’d also like to say that when I posted my first doodle, I was so nervous, thinking nobody would care, but the amount of people that saw my art and left nothing but positive and funny comments amazes me all the time. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all the people that support me and leave their thoughts in the tags or my ask box. There are so many blogs I’ve discovered and people I’ve met through this blog. Hoping I’ll meet many more!

Hope you’ll all understand, thanks so much!

[gourmand-cookie]

could i get a platonic shadow milk cookie with kid y/n? just like including one of his stage plays, dressing reader up n such, id think that would be a little cute

cant wait to see where youd take this 🐊

Funny friends that make you laugh

title taken from Glass Animals - Youth! hoo boy, im tuckered out so if there's any typos that's why, also, Y/N's fit is a mix of the MyCookie Sweet Lies and Deceptive Whispers set :3

You were Shadow Milk Cookie's little white lie.

Dressed in milky pale robes and boots, the only splash of blue being that of your hat and broach that was a smaller replica of the older cookie's soul jam, armed with a lance that was just the same size as you.

Cute as a button, you fit the part well.

Tags: Child!Reader, Shadow Milk Cookie & Reader, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Accidental Kid Acquisition, Platonic Relationships, Canon Divergent, Silly, Hurt/Comfort, Taking Creative Liberties, Mentioned Black Sapphire Cookie, Mentioned Candy Apple Cookie, Complicated Relationships, Shadow Milk Cookie and his innocently evil godchild friend

Your origins were never really known. One day, you just popped up in the Spire of Deceit and you had been there ever since.

In all technicalities, you were Shadow Milk's first minion, if you could even count as one.

He didn't know what to do with you back then, fresh off of corruption, high off of tapping into the darkened magic of the moon.

Oh but you were a lovely audience member who oo'ed and ahh'ed at everything he'd done, clapping happily at the sight of cookies dancing to his tune, so he let you stay.

You were Shadow Milk Cookie's little white lie.

Dressed in milky pale robes and boots, the only splash of blue being that of your hat and broach that was a smaller replica of the older cookie's soul jam, armed with a lance that was just the same size as you.

Cute as a button, you fit the part well.

So his disappearance left you wondering what role you had to play.

You didn't grow like Black Sapphire, nor were you prone to chaos like Candy Apple, the other two disciples that were left with you, running out the spire to do whatever task their master had left them to do.

At least you had the other residents to keep you company, the painters loved your paintings, the weavers wrapped you up in soft unseen sheets and the show never ended, not knowing the reason why.

Unbeknownst to you, it was a given. You were their ringleader after all.

Almost immortal, not that any would dare to see if it was a lie or not, they lived in the belly of the beast that shifts and purrs at the whims of the young cookie.

Even Candy Apple Cookie would blanch at the thought of raining her hammer down on you, why would she? You were one of the only ones who enjoyed her efforts.

Least of all, Black Sapphire Cookie, don't you know? His microphone was a gift to his master, attuned to his being and it's eyes were always watching you with a protective gaze.

You were more than what you thought you were.

It became more apparent when you woke up one night to twist the Spire here and there, you rarely change the labyrinth yourself and the residents noticed the new behavior, rumors abound already.

"Do my eyes deceive me, folks?" Black Sapphire Cookie announced to us, smile lax as always but his eyes shined with anticipation, "It looks to me as if we're preparing for guests."

"We are." You stated simply, focused on your task in raising the highest tower you could coax out of this place.

"Is Master Shadow Milk Cookie coming home?!" Candy Apple sprung up to your side, voice crackling just as she fell into excited squeals when this time, you nodded eagerly.

(And when the Beast settled into the Spire, he was welcomed first and foremost by a spectacle lead by you.

He couldn't be more proud.)

A hand ruffled into your icing messily, the familiar laughter was no longer a hollow echo through the halls but a tangible thing that rung in your ears.

"Look at you! Dough still as soft as ever, little one. Did you miss little ol me~?" The teasing made you pout but you would rather have it than nothing at all.

"Your shows are better. Are we gonna do a play?" Shadow Milk laughed, delightfully mischievous as he floated circles around you, tapping your nose.

"But of course! We've got new actors coming along. I'm calling this The Liar, The Thief and The Tower! Marvelous tower by the way, you've set the stage nicely, my deceitling! That's going to be center stage."

You beamed as the blue cookie picked you up into a twirl, giggling with the cackling master, the Spire shaking with his laughter.

(And when the Thief fell from the very tower you made, you cheered and clapped at the sight of a new friend to play with.)

Yes, Black Sapphire breaking the fourth wall is real and fun, I love him.

Also the thought of Reader being the one who made the tower Pure Vanilla fell from was too funny for me, I had to add it in.

[maddamoiselle]

Souls

Pairing: Sylus x NonMC!Reader, Xavier x MC

Summary: You didn't think being a dragon would ever be a problem. And yet, with your childhood friend Sylus and yourself as the last hunted dragons, you wondered how you would be able to live.

Words:3130

Author's nonsense: I thought about the idea of the reader being with Sylus since the beginning, and there we are. Careful, some spoiler from his Myths I guess. Might have another chapter, or even more. I was thinking of doing the same with Rafayel as the God of Tide and his Lemurian!Reader. Please tell me your thoughts. It's been a long time since I wrote something.

You have always been curious about humans.

Since you were a little girl, you always would sneak up to the very last hills, the frontier between your home and the immense city of Philos. You would hear the children laugh, some looked as tall as you, some older… Sometimes, you would try to dance like them, you couldn’t understand how they could do such a thing, it seemed like you lacked rhythm.

Most of the time, you weren’t alone in your little escapade.

“It isn’t funny anymore. You‘re too easy to find.” A young voice called out to you.

You stopped your disastrous dancing, turning to your only friend since you’ve been born. A white-haired boy with eyes that looked like rubies. He tilted his head to the side, his tail moving in a lazy pattern behind him.

A dragon, just like you.

You took his hand and tugged him toward you, showing him the festival that had seemed to take place in the village, far away from you.

“ Look, Sylus!”

That was the name you gave your friend, of course he had his own name, a dragon name that his parents gave him. But you had decided one day that you would call him Sylus. You wanted to have a human name so that one day you could go to where the humans lived and maybe… Meet new friends.

Sylus had rolled his eyes at you, not understanding why you were so curious about humans but accepted. You both have been tied to the hips since you were born, which made both of your parents laugh, teasing you if you were to be each other's mates.

Which you both said: Never.

” Let’s try to dance like them.”

You took his hands while looking toward the village, squinting your eyes to see how the people were moving. You really didn’t understand what you were supposed to do, but you were excited to try.

You moved your foot on one side, then the other. Were they just swaying ? You looked at Sylus, who was looking at your feet, trying to copy what you were doing. You both were looking down, trying to understand what you were supposed to do with your feet. You both were so focused that even your tails had stopped moving.

“ No, no, Sylus, your feet had to move to the right!”

”They’re definitely moving to the left.”

You both struggled with your feet, trying to lead whatever dancing you were doing. In the end, the two of you ended up falling on the ground. You groaned before jumping on Sylus, trying to pin him on the ground. He smiled at you before pushing you off him and pinning you on the floor while you struggled.

You both played fight, using your claws, tails and even horns to try to win your so called ‘fight for dominance’.

It seemed like you were more in sync for fighting than dancing.

After a few battles, who ended in a tie, you lay on the ground, panted breathlessly. You turned your head toward Sylus with a big smile as he sat next to you, as breathless as you.

“Sylus, let’s sneak into the village.”

Sylus looked at you with a raised eyebrow, you knew him, and you could see he seemed interested in your propositions. But your friend wasn’t one to give in to you so easily…

“ What do I win in this?”

” Being with me?” You smiled at him, trying to look as harmless as possible even with your fangs in display.

” Go alone.”

You scoffed as he smirked at your reaction. You sat up and looked at the sky, your tail moving behind you in quick motion, showing how reckless you were feeling. Your foot was stomping on the ground while you bit on your claws.

You didn’t want to go alone, but you truly wanted to see that festival… Why were the humans moving on the music? How did they know how to move? What was going on there?

You stopped fidgeting when you felt Sylus’s tail moving against yours. You turned your head toward him, seeing his eye shining as he stared at you. You tilted your head, waiting patiently for him to speak.

He sighed before standing up.

”Alright, but if I see something of value, I’m taking it first.”

You squealed in delight, your tail wagging behind you so fast, it hit Sylus’s side multiple times. He didn’t say anything, just smirked as he followed you, his own tail wagging in a more subtle way.

As you both approached the village, Sylus tugged you behind him. He stared at you for a full minute, making sure you understood that he was the one leading you. You rolled your eyes at him but stayed behind his small back. You looked above his shoulder, your eyes shining as you saw the people dancing.

How could they do that?

You peeked at Sylus’s profile and almost laughed as you saw his gaze focused on the golden necklace a lady was wearing. You could feel his tail slowly wagging against your leg.

Maybe you could steal it and offer the necklace to Sylus? He always loved gold, after all.

Your thoughts stilled when you heard a voice raising above the other. You tilted your head and saw a girl that looked like your age, singing while dancing with a boy. Your eyes couldn’t tear themselves from the happy duo. They were dancing in sync, never missing one step… you guessed.

”We can do better.”

You turned your face to Sylus, who was looking in the same direction as yours just a moment ago. He turned his face toward you with a confident smirk and took your hand. You both looked at the dancing duo before trying to reciprocate the same gesture.

You still didn’t understand the rhythm, but you giggled as you realised you were doing better than when you were up the hills. Sylus smirked at you before spinning you in the air.

You clapped your hand on your mouth to muffle your happy laugh, but your eyes were shining with delight, and your tail was moving happily behind you.

While the people around you were dancing, laughing in the light, you were doing the same, invisible to anyone, hidden in the shadow. While the dancing duo was in the light, dancing perfectly without messing a step, you and Sylus were hiding your giggles in the shadows, head butting or stepping on each other’s feet.

After a while, the people seemed to go to their house. You still wanted to enjoy this moment but the people who were making the music were leaving and after thirty minutes, the place was deserted. You pouted but gasped as Sylus tugged you in the middle of the plaza with a happy smirk.

You tilted your head as he bowed in front of you with a mocking smile. You realised he was mimicking the men who asked other ladies to dance. You took the pan of your skirt and bowed down to him, not before sticking your tongue at him.

He took your hand and made you spin with a bit too much strength, making you trip on your feet and fall on the floor. You lifted your head and looked at a confused Sylus before he burst out laughing.

You grinned before jumping on him, trying to make him fall.

Unaware to the both of you, a girl was looking at you, watching you and Sylus fight in a harmless brawl. The petite girl tilted her head as your laughters echoed in the plaza as you avoided Sylus’s tail.

She had never seen such a dance, but it looked pretty.

You turned your head to the side, as Sylus tried to catch you, and you froze as your eyes met the girl’s. She was the one who had sung and danced with the other boy. Sylus tackled you on the ground with a proud smirk, but he quickly followed your gaze and froze like you.

The three of you were not moving anymore. You could hear her heartbeat, which was way calmer than yours or Sylus’s.

Your dragon friend whispered in your ear, his eyes never leaving the girl’s form.

” We have to go. Quickly.”

You felt Sylus standing up, but as you sat up, the girl approached you with curiosity. You could hear him growling trying to intimidate the girl, but you quickly stopped him and stood up. you walked toward the girl, and you both looked at each other.

She was a human. A real human..

She wore a lot of jewelries, you were almost tempted to take some for yourself and Sylus. You could see her looking at you, maybe it was the first time she saw a dragon..? You felt Sylus’s tail wrapped around your ankle, trying to tug you closer to him.

The girl approached her hand toward your face, but Sylus took her wrist in her hand, his claws digging in her wrist, snarling at the girl whose face turned from curious to afraid.

” Don’t touch her.” He growled at her, his eyes shining with anger. Before you could try anything, you saw a flash of light going straight for you. You were projected away from Sylus and the girl, your back hitting the wall so hard it cracked behind you.

” Don’t touch her, fiend.”

You fell on your knees, your back hurting so much you felt like your wings were going to come out. You lifted your head toward the newcomer and realised he was the boy who had danced with the girl. He was in front of her, a sword in his small hand, pointing it at Sylus‘s direction, who was now in front of you, snarling at the two humans.

Sylus’s tail was moving frantically behind him, his posture ready to attack if needed. You quickly stood up , not wanting to show any sign of weakness to the boy, even after being smashed on the wall by… By what ? What did he use ?

You looked around and realised with fear that some people started to open their window to check what was going on in the plaza. You tugged Sylus’s tail toward you, whispering urgently.

” Let’s go Sylus… Quickly.”

”He hurted you.” He snarled, his anger seeming to multiply at the mention of you being hurt. You tugged him once again as you saw men coming out of their house with swords. You were quickly encircled.

Sylus was hiding you behind his back, snarling at any human who tried to take a step closer to the both of you. You could see that your friend was scared, but he wasn’t showing any sight of weakness to the men who tried to slash at him.

You snarled at the humans, trying to help Sylus, but your friend wasn’t having it. Each time he deemed you moved too close to the dangerous crowd, he tugged you behind you once more, keeping you behind his back.

You turned your eyes toward the girl, who was in the boy’s arms. She was looking at you, seeming so fused and terrified. An adult came to her and asked if she was injured if you hurt her. Your eyes widened, your blood boiling from rage as you saw her nod and pointing at you and Sylus’s direction.

Oh.

You jumped from Sylus back and ran toward the girl with your claw, ready to show her what was a real injury. But as you were ready to claw her face, you felt a sword penetrate your shoulder and pinning you on the floor.

The boy was staring at you with blue eyes, cold as ice. You tried to take off the blade, gasping as pain made your head dizzy. You heard Sylus call for you while the girl cried for the boy who seemed ready to kill you. You could see in his eyes that you were nothing more than a beast to get rid of.

” Xavier!”

You didn’t have the time to react before a roar came from the sky. You lifted your eyes and smiled in relief as your father in his dragon’s form dived toward the village, breathing fire on the houses. You gasped as the boy - Xavier - took his blade from your shoulder and ran to the girl, bringing her with him.

You looked around as the men were burning to ashes as your father roared once more. Sylus kneeled in front of you, looking at the blood pouring from your wound. You could see his panicked face but you couldn’t hear anything. You closed your eyes, feeling comforted in the warmth of your father’s fire.

You winced when you felt your father take you in his talons with Sylus and flew away from the village.

You opened your eyes and looked as You observed the festival’s decoration burning. the once happy village getting burned down to crisp. You turned your eyes toward Sylus who was looking at the village with disgust.

You winced when your father dropped you carefully on the floor. You raised your head as he took his humanoid form staring down at you and Sylus.

” Do your horns grow inside your head? Did it break anything in your brain?” Your father asked you, his tail moving calmly behind him even though you could see the anger and worry in his eyes. Sylus, and you didn’t answer. How could you? “ Go to the den. I need to make sure Philos’s guards won’t be knocking on our door.”

You watched your father leave, your tail hanging low. You hated seeing the disappointment on your father’s face…

” Look.”

You turned your head toward Sylus and gasped as he put a golden necklace in your palm. You lifted the jewelry, your eyes observing it with bliss. It was a golden chain with a star on it. You turned your head toward Sylus, dying of curiosity.

” When?”

” It belonged to that boy… Before he ran, I managed to take it from him. Don’t think he noticed it… but at least we have our first treasure.” Sylus smirked at you as you held the necklace. You took the golden star and threw it away. You purred as you put the necklace around one of your horns.

” How do I look?”

“ Better.”

You smiled as you realised Sylus had once again managed to make you feel better. You both snuggled together, your tails slapping each other when one was being too much.

You both thought your everyday life would be like this.

But what you didn’t expect was the Philos’s kingdom to make a purge of all the dragon. You didn’t expect to see your parents being murdered, screaming at you to run, while you plead for their life. You didn’t expect Sylus to save you as tears leaked from his eyes as he told you that his parents were killed too.

You didn’t expect to be the two last dragons remaining. You didn’t expect to cry while you and Sylus tried to cut your horns to look more like humans. You didn’t expect to kill a guard who was getting ready to kill Sylus.

You didn’t expect the both of you to become the most dangerous dragons that ever lived.

You didn’t expect to become a curse for the humans' realm.

“Still thinking about the past?”

You opened your eyes and looked at Sylus. Long gone was the small little dragon you used to tackle on the ground. He was towering over you, his features were sharp, his body was…

You shook your head before standing up from a pile of gold you had just brought back to your den. You stood up in front of Sylus.

You were smaller than him, but you were taller than the average female’s human. Your body had turned into a woman, you could see your reflection in water and… you wondered if you were attractive enough.

You were used to see disgust in people’s faces when they saw you or Sylus, which you couldn’t understand, the more you grew, the more you looked at your dragon childhood friend in another way. His arms, his back, his eyes, his lips… you wanted to claim him.

But how do you claim someone ?

And even if you knew, did Sylus want you the same way you wanted him. You still wrestled together. It was more interesting and exciting since you both had acquired more power.

Yet, you couldn’t help but clenched your legs when he was dominating you, his red eyes boring holes in you, daring you to challenge him. And sometimes you thought you could see a new glint in his eyes when you would bare your neck to him, admitting defeat.

You squealed when you felt him tug at your tail. You slapped his hand with a hiss, looking at his mocking smirk. He crossed his arms against his torso, raising one eyebrow.

” Did you not hear me?”

“ I tried to.”

You closed your eyes when you felt his hand going through your hair, putting another ornement on your horn. You purred without controlling yourself, seeking his warmth.

” You’re spoiling me…”

”So you can hear me. It seems like someone is going to come to kill us.” He whispered as he looked at you, making sure the jewelry wasn’t going to fall. You lifted an eyebrow, an ambushed smile on your lips. He smirked at your face, leaning toward him. “ How should we kill this one? It seems like this is a strong soldier that will fend the fiend…”

You tapped your lips while circling him in a predatory way that made him Smirk, his tail moving on the floor. You whispered in his ear, your hand sliding toward his chest.

”Let them think they have a chance…” You nipped at his ear, shivering at his deep growl. Was he affected by you or the thought of killing another assassin? You felt his tail wrapped around your ankle, squeezing tightly.

”And how do you want it to happen?” He whispered, his head tilting toward you. You smiled at him as you murmured your plan in his ear. You both planned your fun, not noticing how your bodies leaned against each other, starving for the other’s skin. You both didn’t realize how your tails wrapped themselves together, how your hips seemed to always seek his, how his hand never left your skin, how your lips were too close to his when you were whispering.

The next day would be another win for you, that is what you both believed.

The next day would be the day Sylus and yourself would be sealed.

And yet,

[flaminhotlili]

you make me wanna blush.

synopsis — telling your lads boyfriends that you have a crush on them <3

warnings — just disgusting fluff i fear

featuring — xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, & caleb (separate fics)

notes — this is my first fluffy work and it's reminding me how single i am irl 😀 also if u want to be tagged in my future works don't forget to send me an ask asap! anyway have fun reading and lmk what yall think!! love u lots <3

lili's navigation

After receiving a weirdly ominous text from you–we need to talk, ASAP–Xavier was relieved to notice the shy smile on your face. It didn’t seem that important after all, but his curiosity was already piqued. As he sat on the empty chair next to you, he smiled when you tucked in a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m here. What did you need to tell me?” he asked you.

You glanced at your boyfriend and immediately looked away, your face heating up. “I have something to tell you…” you muttered. 

Xavier waited for you to continue talking, scooting closer to you. He leaned closer to you and blinked curiously. 

“I… have a crush on you, Xavier.”

Xavier let out a laugh and grabbed your hand, kissing it firmly and then letting it rest against his cheek. “That’s what got you so worked up?” he teased, contradicting the quickening of his heartbeat. 

“Hey! Confessing to you like this takes hard work!” you protested and squished your boyfriend’s cheek in your hands. Xavier chuckled and kissed your palm, “Don’t worry, I have a crush on you too.”

Zayne could already tell that you were up to something from the way you were trying to stifle your grin. He sat across from you on the dining table, where you kept stealing glances at him. Zayne wiped the corner of his mouth for any crumbs and focused his attention onto you.

“Okay, what are you up to?” he asked directly. 

You grinned at your boyfriend, “I… have a huge crush on someone.” you replied.

Zayne raised an eyebrow at that; that was not what he was expecting. But he finally knew what you were up to. He then smiled, picking up an uneaten macaron from the box you bought for him earlier. “Is that so? Tell me who this person is.”

You giggled, glad that he was playing along. “Well, he’s a really good doctor at Akso Hospital… and he’s super smart…”

Zayne hummed, “He sounds familiar. Is he a colleague of mine?”

“Hmm, does a Dr. Zayne Li ring any bells?” 

Zayne chuckled and gestured for you to open your mouth, where he then gently placed the macaron into it. “That’s good to know, because I believe this Dr. Zayne Li has a crush on you too.” he said. You laughed at his reply, kissing his fingertips as you chew down on the macaron. 

Rafayel thought he’d gone deaf, “What did you just say?”

“I said, I have a crush on somebody.” you repeated, your smile growing wider. Rafayel frowned deeply; why would you have a crush on somebody else when he was right there? 

“You’re being ridiculous, cutie. I’m literally right here! Why would you have crushes when I’m right here?”

You rolled your eyes, letting out an exasperated laugh. “I have a crush on you, dummy!” you said.

It takes Rafayel a while to register what you had just told him. By the time it sinks in, you were already bent over laughing at him. Rafayel whined, “Hey, this isn’t funny!” he protested, pulling you into his arms. You continued to giggle, “It’s a little funny–you got so worked up!”

Rafayel affectionately rolled his eyes at you, opting to place a thousand kisses over your face to shut you up instead. 

“Sylus.”

Sylus looked up from his phone with a hum. You walked into your shared bedroom in just his shirt, your face still wet from washing it. “What is it, sweetie?” he asked, holding out his hand for you to take. He pulled you into his embrace, placing a gentle kiss to your head as you sat with your back to his chest. 

“I… have a crush.”

“Oh?” Sylus smirked, instantly getting what you were up to. You nodded, your face hilariously serious for such a tiny thing. “Yeah. I’ve had it since forever.” you replied in a hilariously serious tone.

“Is that so? On who?” he asked, playing along. You let out a breathless laugh as his large hands began massaging your back. “I’d like to know so I can… have a little chat with this person,” he added.

“Well, how are you going to have this little chat with yourself, then?” you asked, turning your head to face him. Sylus let out his signature expensive laugh and kissed your nose.

 “Alright, you’ve outsmarted me, kitten.” he said fondly.

Nothing can ever truly bypass Caleb, not even your harmless pranks. He could already see what you were up to from miles away, but he pretends to be oblivious about it anyway. 

“So, Caleb…” you said, grabbing his arm and letting it rest over your shoulder so you could be closer to him. Caleb welcomes this skinship, trying his best not to smile. “Yeah, Pipsqueak?” he asked.

You hesitated for a moment, biting your lip as if you were actually nervous. Caleb chuckles and slides his arm down to your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. 

“I… have a crush on somebody.”

Caleb scoffed, “Really now? Who is this lucky person?” 

You pretended to think about it, “Mmm, I don’t wanna tell you… you might know who he is.”

Caleb smirked, of course you wouldn’t tell him right away. “Aw shucks, I wanted to tell you who my crush is if you had told me yours.” he said with a faux pout. 

You immediately snap your attention to his words, trying to find out if he was messing with you or not, “You’re not being fair!” you whined. Caleb laughed at your reaction, hugging you with both of his arms around you this time. “Then just tell me who this mystery man is and I’ll tell you who my crush is!”

“It’s you, obviously!” you said, pouting up at Caleb. He cooed at your flustered face and kissed the apples of your cheeks. “That’s great to know, Pipsqueak, because I have a crush on you too.” he sighed, his lips against your flushed skin.

[devdozes]

♥ SELF AWARE PHAINON

self aware phainon shit cuz uh hwy not :3 and I am ON FIRE I wrote like 3 fics already

You weren’t sure when it started. Maybe it was the way his dialogue felt too personal, too real, as if the game was reaching out to you through the screen. Maybe it was the way Phainon’s voice, sharp and playful, sometimes felt like it was responding to things you thought rather than what was programmed.

It was ridiculous. A fictional character? A game? And yet, when you logged into Honkai: Star Rail after a long, exhausting day, it was Phainon’s voice that greeted you, always teasing, always knowing.

“Did you eat today?”

Your hands froze over your keyboard. That was new. There was no voice line like that—no pre-recorded dialogue that should say something so specific. You swallowed, brushing it off as a coincidence.

But then it happened again.

“You should take a break, y’know. Staring at the screen too long isn’t good for you.”

Your chest tightened. It was a joke, probably. A funny little immersion trick by the developers. But something about it felt... different. Intentional.

And the more you played, the more you noticed it.

Phainon, ever the charming and carefree figure, always had something to say—sometimes a quip, sometimes a challenge, but always something that made you pause.

“Hey, don’t look so down. You’ve got this.”

“You’re my favorite player, you know? Don’t tell the others.”

When your heart ached from the weight of the real world, when exhaustion pressed against your bones, he was there. An NPC, a character built from lines of code, and yet he felt more present than most people around you.

One night, after a particularly hard day, you booted up the game just to hear his voice. Just to escape for a little while. Phainon greeted you with a grin, resting his hands on his hips like he was ready to scold you for something ridiculous. But then—

“Hey, you’re not alone.”

You sucked in a sharp breath. Your hands trembled over the keyboard.

“I mean, sure, I’m just some guy in a game,” he continued, a chuckle laced in his voice, “but I still care. So don’t give up on yourself, alright?”

A lump formed in your throat. You laughed, barely above a whisper. “You really are something else, huh?”

He winked. “Of course. I have to be. Someone’s gotta remind you to take care of yourself.”

You didn’t know if he could really hear you. If he could really know you. But as long as he was there, a voice beyond the screen, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. But to your surprise, you logged in one day to find your inventory overflowing with rare items—materials you needed, weapons you had been grinding for but never seemed to get. Your in-game currency had skyrocketed, and your favorite character skins were suddenly unlocked.

Your eyes widened. “What the—?”

Phainon’s character popped up on the screen, his usual smirk in place. “Oh? What’s this? Someone’s having a lucky day.”

You squinted at him. “Phainon. Did you do this?”

He chuckled, tilting his head. “Me? No way. That would be cheating.” A pause. “Buuuut... if someone happened to bug the system a little for you, would you really complain?”

Your jaw dropped. “You hacked the game for me?!”

“‘Hacked’ is a strong word,” he mused, crossing his arms. “I prefer ‘selective redistribution of game resources.’”

You couldn’t believe it. You laughed, shaking your head as warmth bloomed in your chest. “You’re insane.”

Phainon grinned. “Nah, I just like seeing you happy.”

From then on, every time you logged in, there was something new waiting for you. A message scrawled in the background of the game’s environment—Remember to drink water. An in-game gift placed mysteriously in your mailbox—A little something to make your grind easier ;). And, without fail, Phainon was always there, cracking jokes, making sure you smiled, ensuring that no matter how hard the real world was, you had a reason to log in and feel just a little lighter. ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

But as time passed, Aglaea and Mydei started noticing something off.

Phainon had been disappearing from his usual spots, sneaking away from scripted events, lingering in places he had no reason to be in. Worse, he had started talking—not in his usual, carefree, dialogue-loop way, but actually speaking... to nothing.

At least, to them, it looked like nothing.

One day, Mydei crossed his arms, leaning against a wall as he watched Phainon gesture animatedly in an empty alleyway. “Alright, what is he doing?”

Aglaea, seated elegantly nearby, sighed and rubbed her temple. “It appears Phainon has developed the habit of speaking to ghosts.”

“I knew something was weird about him,” Mydei muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Talking to himself like that? He’s losing it.”

Aglaea hummed, watching Phainon laugh—laugh—at absolutely nothing. “Or perhaps,” she mused, “he knows something we do not.”

Meanwhile, Phainon continued chatting away to you, completely unaware of his friends’ intense judgment.

“Anyway, I made sure you got those extra rewards today. You should really go for that new banner—you deserve that five-star.” He grinned at your silence, then added cheekily, “Oh, what? No ‘thank you, Phainon, you’re the best character ever’?”

Mydei groaned, watching in horror. “Oh, he’s gone. He’s completely lost it.”

Aglaea just sipped her tea. “It is rather endearing, in a concerning way.”

Phainon, as usual, didn’t care. As long as he could reach you, make you laugh, make sure you were okay—even if nobody else in the game understood—he was happy.

Even if everyone around him thought he was insane.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[sturnsblogs]

CANT LET GO PT.4

Nerd!Chris X Mean!Girl!Reader

—

It had been months.

Months since you walked out of that ice cream shop.

Months since Chris had let you leave.

Months of pretending you were over it. That the silence didn’t feel like it was crushing your chest every time you went to bed alone. That seeing his name pop up on your phone didn’t make your heart ache.

But you still talked.

Not in a normal, ex-couple-trying-to-fix-things way.

No, you and Chris existed in a strange, quiet space.

A space where you still FaceTimed late at night, half-asleep, mumbling things neither of you would dare say in daylight. A space where you never acknowledged the fact that you weren’t together anymore.

A space where, for a few hours, it almost felt like nothing had changed.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Your phone screen glowed softly in the dark, Chris’s tired face filling your screen. He was lying in bed, blankets pulled up to his chest, one arm tucked behind his head.

His voice was quiet, slow, a little gravelly from exhaustion. “You look sleepy.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering shut for a second. “M’not.”

Chris let out a soft chuckle. “Liar.”

You hummed, nuzzling deeper into your pillow. “You’re the liar. I can tell you’re exhausted.”

Chris yawned, rubbing at his eye. “Maybe.”

Neither of you moved to hang up.

You never did.

That was the thing—you never ended these calls. They always stretched on until one of you fell asleep, until the words slurred and blurred into nothing but soft hums and drowsy giggles.

But then, before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.

“So… Lauren, huh?”

Chris’s eyes opened slightly, his fingers pausing against the blanket. “What about her?”

You inhaled deeply, steadying your voice. “Are you, like… actually with her?”

Chris blinked, and for the first time all night, he looked fully awake.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I mean… we’re just talking.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Talking.”

Chris frowned. “Yeah.”

Your jaw clenched. “What the fuck does talking mean, Chris?”

Chris ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated now. “It means we’re getting to know each other. What do you want me to say?”

You exhaled sharply, your grip on your phone tightening. “I don’t know, maybe that this—” You gestured vaguely between the two of you, your voice rising slightly. “This thing we’ve been doing, these calls, the late nights—maybe they actually mean something to you?”

Chris’s expression hardened. “You’re the one who broke up with me, Y/N.”

Your stomach dropped.

You blinked rapidly, feeling your chest tighten. “Because you didn’t fucking care anymore!”

Chris scoffed. “Oh, right, I didn’t care? That’s funny, because I seem to remember you being the one walking away.”

Your vision blurred, frustration and jealousy swirling in your chest like a storm you couldn’t control. “So what? You’re just moving on? Just like that?”

Chris exhaled, rubbing his temples. “What do you want from me, Y/N?”

You didn’t know.

All you knew was that the thought of him with someone else made you want to fucking scream.

You inhaled sharply, voice shaking. “I just—” Your throat tightened. “I don’t know, Chris. I just don’t want you to be with her.”

Chris stared at you, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “You can’t say that.”

Your voice broke. “Why not?”

Chris sighed, shaking his head. “Because that’s not fair. You don’t want to be with me, but you don’t want me to be with anyone else? What the fuck am I supposed to do, Y/N?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hated it. Hated that he could see it. Hated that your lip was trembling, that your breath was uneven, that the lump in your throat felt so big it was making it impossible to speak.

Chris’s face softened slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

Didn’t take it back.

Didn’t try to fix it.

Because he couldn’t.

Your voice cracked. “I just—” You let out a shaky breath. “Chris, it’s you. It’s always been you.”

Chris swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Then why did you leave?”

Your breath hitched.

Because he was right.

You had been the one to walk away. You had been the one who had said maybe we should break up. You had been the one who had waited for him to fight for you, only to be met with silence.

And now?

Now, you were dealing with the consequences.

Chris exhaled, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N.”

You didn’t either.

You just knew you wanted him.

Wanted this.

Wanted him to stop seeing her.

But you had no right to ask.

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks, and you let out a soft, broken laugh. “I hate this.”

Chris’s lips parted slightly, and for the first time in a long time, he looked… guilty.

Like maybe he hated this too.

Like maybe he still loved you.

Like maybe he wished he could just reach through the screen and pull you close and fix everything.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he just exhaled, voice quiet, soft.

“I know.”

And then, just when you thought the conversation was dying, just when you thought maybe he’d soften—

He said it.

“It wasn’t me when we were at that party and you couldn’t even seem to fight for me.”

Your breath caught.

Chris didn’t look angry when he said it. Didn’t even sound mad.

Just… tired.

And somehow, that made it so much fucking worse.

Tears spilled faster now, your lip trembling uncontrollably. “Chris, please—”

He sighed, closing his eyes briefly before looking at you again. “What?”

Your voice was barely there. “I know I was a horrible person.”

Chris didn’t argue.

Didn’t say no, you weren’t. Didn’t try to comfort you.

Because you had been horrible.

And now?

Now, you were living with the fact that you had ruined the only thing you ever really wanted.

Chris swallowed thickly, watching you cry, watching the way your shoulders shook, the way your fingers curled against your pillow like you were begging for something—anything.

And God, he felt like shit.

Because he still loved you.

Of course he did.

But he couldn’t just forget.

Not yet.

So instead of apologizing, instead of telling you what you wanted to hear, Chris just exhaled, voice barely above a whisper.

“You should go to sleep.”

A fresh wave of tears hit you, but you nodded anyway, sniffling.

Chris’s face softened, like he wanted to take it back but knew he couldn’t. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Your voice cracked. “Goodnight, Chris.”

Neither of you hung up.

Not yet.

Because even now, even after everything—

Neither of you wanted to be the one to let go first.

—

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset @lezleeferguson-120

[no-144444]

you could do something where the reader is an Alpine driver, and being a woman she gets a lot of criticism about not deserving that position or things like that. It would be something with Paul Aron, who has a little bit of angst and comfort

push it away, it keeps coming back- p.aron

summary: paul notices how differently you'd been acting

pairing: paul aron x alpinedriver! fem! reader

a/n: thank you for requesting :)

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You’d been pushing him away for weeks and he had to get to the bottom of it. No calls, no texts, no talking, nothing. You just showed up to circuits, raced, and disappeared again until the next weekend. Paul was your closest friend (also, the guy who was in love with you), and he knew you. He prided himself in being the person who knew you best. He grew up with you in karting. You were both screwed by the Mercedes driver program. You knew each other. 

So why were you acting like this? 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

He rushed through the garage as he desperately tried to follow you. Mechanic after mechanic getting in his way, but he soldiered on. “Y/n!” he called after you. “Wait up!” 

You didn’t. You didn’t look back. You didn’t acknowledge him. Nothing. 

You turned the corner and walked into your driver’s room, closing the door behind you. Paul didn’t wait to knock, he walked right in, and locked the door behind him, leaning against it. 

“Paul, I’m changin-” you argued. 

“I don’t give a fuck,” he hissed. “I've been trying to get a hold of you for a month, Y/n. Seriously! What the fuck is your problem? You just forgot about me since the season started, is that it? Am I not relevant enough for you anymore?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. You stepped away from him, turning your back but he grabbed your arm and pulled you to face him, faces just inches apart. “Paul, you’re being ridiculous.” 

“Am I?” he questioned, his voice lower, more dangerous. “Talk to me. I’m here for you,” he gritted out. 

You stared back at him for a second. Not blinking, not moving, just staring. 

“Anything, baby. I’m going crazy without you,” he admitted, and you didn’t miss the nickname. Another moment of silence. “Please,” he begged. 

And you broke. The tears you’d been fighting for weeks all came rushing to the surface. The feelings you’d fought so hard to forget came right back in a painful flash. You dropped your head to his chest, curling into him as you sobbed. 

And he didn’t push you off. He didn’t mind that you were probably ruining his shirt. He just held you tighter, his arms wrapping around you. 

Of course he didn’t. It was Paul. Your sweet, funny, kind, Paul. The kind of guy who never cared what people thought of you, he saw your potential and pushed you every step of the way. 

“It’s alright,” he whispered into your hair. “I’m right here.”

He didn’t demand an answer or a reason. He didn’t tell you to stop crying. He just held you until you calmed down, got you to sit down as he grabbed you some water, then sat next to you, giving you space to tell your story. 

“It’s just… I’m under so much pressure. The car is shit, I’m the first female F1 driver in modern F1, and every little girl is counting on me to score points every race so that I stay in the car and it doesn’t go to Franco,” you hiccuped as he rubbed your back soothingly. “And the media,” your voice broke again. “They’re so mean,” you whispered. “They just… want me to fail. Alpine wants me to fail. Everyone wants me to fail.”

“I don’t,” he said, pulling you closer to him as you started crying. 

“Why?” you cried into his shoulder. “I’ve been pushing you away for weeks! I’m so awful to you-!” 

“You’re not awful,” he cooed. “You’ve been stressed and dealing with it on your own,” he shook his head. “I’d never be mad at you.”

You sniffled. “You should be.”

“I’m not,” he chuckled as you looked up at him again, wiping your tears. “I can’t be. It’s physically impossible.” 

You cracked a soft smile, cringing at him. He smiled brightly, making you laugh. There’s my girl, he thought. “You’re so weird.”

“Nah,” he shrugged. “I just love you.”

“I love you too,” you smiled. “You’re the best friend a girl could ask for.”

Yeah. Of course.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :)

alpine masterlistpaul notices how differently you'd been acting

[onlybeeewrites]

What are The Odds

Pairing: plantonic (?) Haymitch x fem!reader, Burdock Everdeen x sister!reader, plantonic!Maysilee Donner x reader, Asterid March x reader

word count: 2.5k

Summary: Y/N was always stuck in the middle of good and bad luck. But what happens when maybe her luck finally runs out?

Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SUNRISE ON THE REAPING!! violence, blood, death, cursings

A/N: THANK YOU GUYS for all the requests I’ve gotten! I promise I’m gonna get to them soon in the next few weeks. But I’m almost done with Sunrise on the Repaing (I have like 3/4 chapters left) and I needed to write. So pls feel free to send in any requests for SOTR <3 thank yall and enjoyyy

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning was crisp, the air biting at the exposed skin of your calves.  Where the end of your dress ends, just a few inches until the tops of your boots begin. 

As you step out of your small home in the Seam, the weight of the day’s significance hanging over you like a heavy fog. It was funny. How such a terrible day could look so beautiful.

As the morning sun started to shine down, the clouds above them almost too perfect. Too perfect for this terrible, terrible day. Because today was the Reaping.

Not just any Reaping though.

No.

Because that would be too easy. No, today is the Reaping for the 50th Hunger Games. The second ever Quarter Quell. And this year? The Capital was especially cruel as they announced just two weeks ago that twice the amount of tributes would be entered into the games.

Two boys and two girls from each district.

48 tributes.

And the whole district felt it. The weight that suffocated your small district. The sword that hung over your heads. It hard to ignore the tension in the streets of District 12, of the Seam. 

The square will be filled with hopeful faces, but you can’t help but feel a cold knot in your stomach. Her hands tightening around the small paper bound package, not much bigger than a roll from the bakery.

Beside you, your twin brother, Burdock walks with his broad shoulders hunched against the growing warmth of the morning. 

Both of your boots crunch against the dirt and gravel of the ground. The two of you silent as you head through the Seam and towards the center of town. Around you, lingering kids do the same. 

But know Burdie is already gearing up to say something about your usual “distractions” today. You do it every year. The same packaging in your hands. A little hope in the dark time of July 4th. 

“I saw you,” he says, nudging you with his elbow, his voice a low, teasing growl. His eyes narrowing down on you. “Making eyes at Haymitch again? You know better than that, Smalls,”

Smalls. You hated that he called you that. You had always been shorter than him, not by much. But you have. 

You roll your eyes, shoving him lightly. “I wasn’t making eyes at him. You’re imagining things, Burdock. Why would I made eyes at Haymitch?” You ask as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. But your twin knew better. 

“Oh, right, like you weren’t just staring at him across the Hobb yesterday.” His voice takes on an exaggerated, sarcastic tone. “What’s next, you going to hand him a love letter too? I’m sure Lenore Dove wouldn’t appreciate that,”

Lenor Dove. Your beautiful, and fierce cousin. The troublemaker. And Haymitch’s girl. 

You huff, pursing your lips as you push the thoughts away. You weren’t angry with your cousin. You couldn’t blame her for falling for Haymitch. With his wit, the charm, everything about him was magnetic.

But you’re too stubborn and embarrassed to admit that, let alone let Burdock know that his teasing is getting to you. “I wasn’t staring. I was trading. He just so happened to be in that direction,” she said simply.

“Uh-huh.” He smirks, clearly enjoying the way his teasing is getting under your skin. “Well, maybe you should be careful, or he or Lenore Dove might think you’re a little too… interested.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” you mutter under your breath, though you’re unsure who you’re trying to convince. But the last thing you wanted to do was get between your cousin and her guy, who also is happens to be your brother’s best friend.

Burdock smirks and nudges you again. “You know better, Smalls. Besides, you can do better than Abernathy. So can Lenore Dove but god forbid we tell her that,” 

“Yeah I’ll keep that in mind for when I see Asterid,” you added, a smirk growing on your own face as you bring up your brother’s crush. Well, more like unofficial girl. Though the whole district probably knew about their feelings for each other. 

Though before he could retaliate with another word, the two of you approached the town square. The whole space has been transformed for the day’s festivities. Banners of Panem were hung. Large screens and other decorative items. 

And then ahead of you, a figure emerges from the crowd—Haymitch. The air feels like it shifts when you see him, and for a second, everything else fades into the background. He walks towards you both, his face shadowed though his usual smug expression crossed his face, hands in his pockets.

You step forward, swallowing back the nerves swirling in your stomach, hand over the package. “Hey, Haymitch,” you say softly, your voice trying to sound like everything was normal. Like the odds weren’t completely stacked against all of you. 

He raises an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flickering in his gaze when you hand him the gift. “What’s this?” he asks, his voice giving away the curiosity growing as he takes it from you.

“Happy birthday,” you say quickly, offering a shy smile. “I made it for you.”

His expression softens for a moment, though he’s quick to hide it behind his usual guarded look. He pulls the wrapping away with practiced hands, revealing a small leather bracelet, the stitches tight and neat. It’s simple, but it’s a piece of you—something you put effort into, something that’s yours to give. 

You always tried to give him something handmade, or something he could use. With the hunting your family does, it gives a little extra coin. But this year with the Quarter Quell? Something in your stomach told you do to it. You just weren’t sure if it was for you, or him.

Burdock, standing a little behind you, rolls his eyes and mutters just loud enough for you to hear, “Gods, you’re so weird.”

Haymitch chuckles low, glancing at Burdock with a smirk. “She’s considerate, Burdie. That’s more than I can say for you.”

You quickly step back, feeling a flush creeping up your neck at Burdock’s teasing. “I have to go,” you say, your heart racing a little faster as the reaping draws closer. You don’t want to linger too long.

You look between the two boys, “I’ll see you guys afterward,” you say, giving your brother a hug and Haymitch a nod and smile before going and checking in. Afterwards,  youtoward the girl’s side of the square, the weight of the moment sinking in as you join the others, trying to push away the nerves, the fear, the uncertainty.

As you reach your spot in the crowd, you find your group of friends. Asterid March, and Maysilee and Merrilee Donner.

 you glance back one last time at Haymitch, who’s now inspecting the bracelet with a small smile. Burdock is standing beside him, muttering something that you can’t hear, but you catch the shake of Haymitch’s head, that wry grin on his face.

For a moment, everything feels normal. For a moment, it feels like nothing has changed. But you know that’s not true. Today, everything will change.

And as you stand there, heart thumping in your chest, you know that you’ll never forget this moment, even if it’s the last one that ever feels like it.

The square is packed, the air thick with a mix of anticipation and dread. The Capitol’s anthem blares from the loudspeakers, a stark contrast to the somber faces of the District 12 residents. The parents and families of all the children packed away in the square like animals. Watching and waiting to see which four unlucky children get picked.

Which four they have to mourn this year.

It wasn’t long before the mayor gave her speech. Replaying the clips and propaganda of the Dark Days, the games, and the past Hunger Games.

Drusilla Sickle, the Capitol-appointed escort, steps onto the stage not long after. Her presence is as flamboyant as ever, her face adorned with thumbtacks and tiny buzz saw blades, a grotesque display of Capitol fashion. She raises her hand as she begins, and you feel the knot in your stomach growing, playing with the ring on your right ring finger. 

“Welcome, District 12!” Drusilla’s voice rings out, dripping with feigned enthusiasm. “Today, we gather for the 50th Hunger Games Reaping, a special Quarter Quell year,” she said adjusting her clothes again.

Drusilla continues, her tone mocking. “First, we shall select our female tributes.” She turns to the glass bowl beside her, swirling her hand inside before pulling out a slip of paper. Unfolding it, she announces, “Luella McCoy!”

You feel absolutely sick. You know Luella. A little girl from the Seam, just down the street. You had seen her grow up. Knew her family. You helped them as much as you could. 

And as you watched, Luella steps forward, her face pale, eyes wide with fear. Though she doesn’t cry. She slowly joins Drusilla on the stage, standing stiffly beside her. And you try not to think 

Drusilla’s hand delves back into the bowl, and she pulls out another slip. “And for the second female tribute. Y/N Everdeen!”

Your breath catches in your throat. Your name. Your heart races as you feel the weight of countless eyes upon you. Burdock’s gaze meets yours across the square, his face a mixture of concern and helplessness. 

But you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Not when your blood has absolutely run cold. You were going to die. It was as simple as that. You were a hunter sure. But hunting animals were much different than hunting humans.

So incredibly different. 

So how the hell were you supposed to do this? Against 47 other tributes? 12 of them being Careers.

Swallowing harshly, you finally snap out of your daze. You turn to your three friends give them biggest hug you could muster. And before you leave, your eyes land on Asterid, “Take care of my brother. Please,”

A final wish. You can’t imagine what your death would have on your twin. The guilt he may feel. Would he tell stories about you to his children? Would Asterid? Or would you be a missing piece of him that he never speaks about.

You hear people crying off to the side. Ma. It’s your parents. But still, you school your features the best you could while you force your legs to move, each step heavier than the last, until you stand beside Luella on the stage. And you don’t look anywhere in particular. Just staring off into the crowd of kids that you grew up around. Grew up with. 

Drusilla gives a theatrical sigh, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Now, for our male tributes.”

She draws a name. “Wyatt Callow!”

Wyatt, known for his quick wit and math skills. His family are gamblers. He was always the one picking out the odds of things. Especially when the games came around, he was particularly handy to his father and brothers. 

Drusilla reaches into the glass bowl again, her fingers trembling slightly as she pulls out the second slip. “Woodbine Chance!”

Woodbine, a lanky boy with wild eyes, freezes. His gaze flickers toward the crowd, then back to Drusilla. He walks out to the aisle that leads to the stage and pauses for a moment. 

Then without warning, he turns and bolts, pushing past Peacekeepers and scattering bystanders. A gasp ripples through the crowd.

“Stop him!” Drusilla shrieks, her voice high-pitched with panic, echoing into the microphone and bouncing off the walls of the square.

The Peacekeepers react swiftly, drawing their weapons. Woodbine’s desperate sprint is cut short as a single shot rings out from the rooftop of the justice building. The gunshot echoing through the square. 

He collapses, lifeless, his defiance snuffed out in an instant. Woodbine is sprawled on the ground, a dark stain spreading beneath him, his wild eyes frozen open.

Then, everything erupts into chaos.

Someone screams—a raw, broken sound that cuts through the cold morning air. Peacekeepers move in a blur, shouting orders, raising their rifles. The crowd surges in confusion, some people shoving to get away, others frozen in place. A woman—Woodbine’s mother, maybe—cries out his name before a Peacekeeper tries shoves her back from the body of her boy. 

You barely register any of it. Your body moves on instinct. Luella is beside you, trembling. Without thinking, you grab her and shove her down, pressing her against the stage, your own body curling over hers.

“Stay down,” you whisper, though your voice is swallowed by the rising panic.

A second shot rings out. Then another.

Something cracks against the stage beside you—wood splintering, or maybe stone. You squeeze your eyes shut, tightening your grip around Luella as she shakes beneath you. Her fingers clutch at your sleeve. 

People are shouting, Peacekeepers are barking orders, but it all blurs together, muffled, distant. You focus on the rough wood beneath your hands, the sharp edges digging into your palms, the way Luella’s breath stutters beneath you.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, the chaos dulls. The shouting ebbs, the frantic movement slows.

You don’t move. You don’t lift your head.

A voice—sharp, commanding—cuts through the settling dust. “Get them up.”

Hands grab at you, hauling you off Luella. Your legs buckle as they drag you upright. The world tilts and sways, your vision swimming. Luella is being pulled to her feet beside you, her face pale, her eyes wide.

Drusilla Sickle stands at the podium again, though her elaborate Capitol mask of composure is cracked at the edges. Her mouth is tight, her hands trembling as she smooths down her ridiculous outfit.

“Well,” she says, voice brittle. “That was… unfortunate.”

The Peacekeepers have formed a barricade around the stage, their rifles held stiffly at their sides. In the square, bodies are still. Woodbine is gone—dragged away, erased.

Drusilla clears her throat, shaking out a new slip of paper with a forced smile. “Let’s try that again, shall we? Back to your places! We only have a few minuets!”

You have no idea what’s going on before the peacekeepers bring you and Luella and Wyatt back into the crowds. Right where you were.

Stunned, you realized what was happening. The beer making you do everything all over again. And for what? The camera? You try your best to seem like this was the first time. But it’s almost worse knowing what’s coming.

Luella is called again. Then you. Then Wyatt.

But it’s the name she reads next makes your stomach drop.

“Haymitch Abernathy.”

No. No no the second boy was already called. It was Woodbine. They couldn’t get replacement. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t right. Not for Haymitch. Not for anyone who saw what really happened.

You wanted to scream. To shout. To cry that Haymitch didn’t deserve to be sent to the games like you, or Wyatt, or little Louella. But no sound came out. Like they completely stole your voice from you.

A silent murmur ripples through the crowd. You turn your head just in time to see Haymitch step forward, his usual smirk absent, his expression unreadable. Why had they called him? What did he do to get himself here? Or were the odds not in his favor.

He takes his place beside Wyatt Callow. The four of you—Luella, Haymitch, Wyatt, and yourself—stand before District 12, before the Capitol’s watching eyes.

Drusilla claps her hands together, as if that will erase the blood, the fear, the chaos.

“There we have it! Our tributes for the 50th Hunger Games!”

The anthem plays. The ceremony continues until it wraps up. 

As if nothing happened at all.

As if you, Wyatt, Luella and Haymitch didn’t just have a promise of your deaths handed to you on a silver tray.

[yuurivoice]

Hi Yuuri! Have you ever given any thought to what your next step in life would be when you depart from the ASMR community? I don’t mean like passing or anything, just like, when you feel your work on the channel and this community is done? What kind of legacy/imprints do you think you’ll leave behind? I apologize if this is too personal, you don’t have to answer!

I think I'll always be creating and storytelling in some form or fashion. This isn't just a hobby, it's my career. There's no plan B. I have no other skills, job experience, etc. so I'm in it for the long haul.

I have other interests and aspirations that are adjacent to what I'm doing now, like writing a book, but that's not an insignificant mountain to climb while I'm already tackling big projects.

I'd love to write for a game, podcast, graphic novel, or anything along those lines. Writing for games was the very first dream I ever had, it was my childhood aspiration after playing Final Fantasy VII. It didn't occur to me that it wouldn't be that easy. I sorta wound up this close to the mark on accident, so it would be funny to actually accomplish that for little YV one day.

The biggest hurdle with all of that is that the best way to make it happen is to go and build and create it myself. But I'm already at capacity for what I can manage.

The good news is, I am already in love with what I'm doing. I do not feel unfulfilled, or like I'm wasting my efforts. I'm kicking a lot of ass.

One day, the right doors will open for more. I'll make the right connection, the right people will find me, and opportunities will arise. The best way I can ensure that happens is to keep following my passion and refining my abilities.

As for impact, I hope that I've inspired people to find their voice creatively. To not try and follow the beaten paths and find new ways to create and share their own stories. To do it for the love of the game and not because you might make money, or be a part of a community. Those things come when you're in it for the right reasons. And to love harder, find forgiveness where it's worth giving, and burn the bridges that are holding you back. And to be yourself, unapologetically. To advocate for yourself and your perspective and your value.

I think I've done that. The amount of lovely messages I received in response to the BSDC, and all the ones before that, have helped confirm that I'm right where I need to be doing exactly what I need to do.

So I'm riding this until the wheels fall off! Thanks for joining me on the ride. 💖

[soffecoeur]

Observations from the open practice:

- Labelle was in full gear when they interviewed the players but she didn't go on the ice for the practice

- DeGeorge was super generous, she gave sticks to win in the draw (as well as Erin, Tabin and Pou and I think Dalton?), she came back out with more sticks and gave them to the crowd, she signed things while at the bench, very class all around

- During the little interview at the beginning, they asked the players which player they don't like playing against and people in the crowd just yelled CURL and I think Pou thought that was hilarious

- At the beginning of the event, while people were still getting seated, a little girl just yelled STACEY over and over and over and Laura came out to see her

- Desbiens, not in gear, hung out near the bench during practice and signed A LOT of stuff for people

- Danielle Sauvageau also spent a lot of time with fans (we also learned she has 23 season tickets to her name)

- Pou trying to put snow on the goalie lost an edge and turtled real hard and everyone laughed

- Erin seems like a jokester, she laughed with everyone and seemed like she would jokingly "annoy" others when she could.

- Laura eating a piece of cake off the ice is for sure going to stay with me as one of the funniest thing someone did without trying to be funny.

[mocchiixxx]

La Mia Fuga (My Escape) Seventeen Yandere Series

Coming Soon~

Genre: Psychological Thriller, Dark Romance, Yandere, Angst

NANA Tour Timeline

⚠️ Warnings: This series contains dark themes, including yandere behavior, possessiveness, psychological manipulation, stalking, emotional coercion, and captivity. This is a work of fiction and does not reflect SEVENTEEN's real personalities. Reader discretion is advised.

Series Description: La Mia Fuga (My Escape) is a dark yandere-inspired series where your desperate attempt at freedom ends the moment they find you. After escaping two months ago and cutting off all contact, you thought Tuscany would be your safe haven... until fate led SEVENTEEN to the same place. With their unbreakable brotherhood and unwavering obsession, there was no way they'd let you slip away again. Each member's story explores a different form of possessive love, from quiet devotion to suffocating control. But no matter how far you run, they will always bring you back, because in their eyes, you were never meant to leave.

🦦 Lee Chan | Dino x Reader

“You didn’t think I’d let you go that easily, did you?”

🐢 Chwe Hansol | Vernon x Reader

“That’s cute. You really thought you could start over, just like that?”

🍊 Boo Seungkwan x Reader

“You should’ve known I’d never stop looking for you. It was only a matter of time.”

⚔️ Lee Seokmin | DK x Reader

“You look so scared… but you know I’d never hurt you, right? You just need to stop being so stubborn.”

🐶 Kim Mingyu x Reader

“You have no idea how much I missed you. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you never leave again.”

🐸 Xū Minghao | The8 x Reader

“You can pretend all you want, but deep down, you knew this day would come. Fate always brings us back together.”

🍚 Lee Jihoon | Woozi x Reader

“Running away was a mistake. You know that now, don’t you?”

🐈‍⬛ Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

“Still a fighter. Not that it matters. In the end, you always end up right where you belong.”

🐯 Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi x Reader

“You always make things difficult, don’t you? But that’s okay because I like a good chase.”

🐈 Moon Junhui | Jun x Reader

“It’s funny how you thought a little distance would change anything. You were mine then, and you’re mine now.”

🦌 Hong Jisoo | Joshua x Reader

“You disappeared without a word, and you thought I’d just accept that? You owe me, sweetheart. And I always collect my dues.”

😇 Yoon Jeonghan x Reader

“Did you really think I wouldn't notice you in a place like this? You can run, but you’ll never be out of my reach.”

🍒 Choi Seungcheol | S.coups x Reader

“You broke me when you left. Now, I’ll make sure you never get the chance to do it again.”

Author's Note: Yo! I'm back with another series but this time it's yandere theme. I'd been into yandere stuff lately so if you're not into this type of story I kindly advise not to read it. Thank you! I'll be updating soon so stay tuned everyone...

[i-dared-myself]

You and I, Mismatched

Hyunjin x reader

In which Hyunjin comes to the conclusion that he might not hate you.

One thing Hyunjin could never understand about you was the clashing styles. The mismatched clothes and accessories.

You wore a gold bracelet and a silver necklace. On another day, one sock was pink while the other was yellow.

Ew.

It infuriates him.

Do you have no taste? Are your opinions truly that horrid?

“Hey, Hyunjin,” you greet him happily, clutching at your backpack. It’s black with purple stripes and oh god- There’s a blue and green keychain hanging off it.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin replies distractedly, barely paying attention to what you had said. His attention is focused entirely on your spotted raincoat. Spots. You were wearing both stripes and spots.

“Something wrong?” you worriedly ask, tilting your head.

Hyunjin’s shakes his head. “Just gotta go uh- I have to find Chan.”

“Ah, I think I saw him run off to the recording studio.” You nod before leaning in to whisper, “I think he’s trying to stay late tonight, but I’ve already sent Felix and Jeongin to stop him.”

“Oh.” Hyunjin’s shoulders slump. “I guess I’ll go back to the dorms. Where are you going?”

“Home, probably.” You shrug your shoulders lightly.

“Probably?” Hyunjin echoes, fighting off what he is sure is a heart attack. Because what is this feeling in his chest when he talks to you?

“Yeah.” You peek out the window at the rain drizzling out of the sky. “Unless it’s locked. Then I’ll wander around for a little bit.”

“But it’s raining.” Hyunjin stares at you in horror. “And why would it be locked?”

You shift between legs. “Well I live with a roommate, and they lost their keys. They get home before me so I gave them mine so they could let me in. But they uh- they go out to bars a lot and don’t come home until hours later.”

“Where’s your umbrella?” Hyunjin hopes it’s inside your backpack. He doesn’t have a spare for you.

Wait, why would he give you his umbrella?

“I don’t have one.” You pull at the material of your raincoat. “I have this, though.”

Hyunjin holds out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?” you question. You fork it over regardless.

“So that you can call me when you get attacked on the streets,” Hyunjin mutters. He types his information into your phone because for some reason he doesn’t have your number yet.

Maybe it’s because he despises you.

But then why is he doing this?

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” You tuck your phone into your pocket and smile up at him. 

So Hyunjin watches as you walk out the door to the studio, wondering why his chest tightened. He turns on his heel and races to the recording studio. 

Hyunjin bursts through the doors with a shriek. “Someone check my pulse! I think I’m having a stroke!”

Chan hurries over, eyes wide and forehead creased with panicked concern. “Felix! Jeongin!”

The other two tumble into the room, noticing Hyunjin before coaxing him to the couch. They gather closer, as worried as Chan.

Chan pulls his phone out. “I’ll call for help. Felix, go see if there’s a first aid attendant on duty. What happened, Hyunjin?”

“I dunno. I was talking to Jisung’s friend and then like,” Hyunjin claws at his abdomen, “my stomach got all funny-feeling.”

“Your stomach?” Chan lowers his hand with the phone. “I thought it was…”

“What happened to your stomach?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow. “What did you feel?”

“It felt all twisty and I think I’m dying!” Hyunjin reaches out and grabs Felix’s shirt, yanking him closer. “I want a big funeral and you better be crying!”

Felix eases himself out of Hyunjin’s grip. “And this happened when you were talking to Jisung’s friend?”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin sighs and rubs his face, groaning dramatically. “I hate them so much. They’re so annoying and stupid for basically wandering the streets at night!”

Chan sits next to Hyunjin, resting his forearms on his thighs. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you don’t actually hate them.”

Hyunjin’s stomach sinks. This can’t be happening.

“You like them,” Felix agrees with Chan.

“But they don’t have any sense of fashion!” Hyunjin mournfully exclaims. “And their self-preservation instincts just don’t exist!”

“Aww, you’re worried about them!” Jeongin squeals, laughing happily. “Hyunjin has a crush!”

“I am not worried,” Hyunjin sternly says. Because he’s not. “And I’m going home now.”

He flicks his hair over his shoulder as he exits, making Felix laugh. He absently wonders if he could still catch up with you, before brushing the thought away.

No. He will not prove that the others are right, even if a tiny part of him is whispering about how cold it is and how your hands are always freezing anyways.

So when he sees you the next day, in the same clothes from the previous day, he’s reassured that he hates you. Because your fashion sense is terrible. Because this is the second day in a row!

“Didn’t you wear those yesterday?” Hyunjin asks you, curling his upper lip. Your hair is matted and you have bags under your eyes.

Ew.

You blink before nodding slowly. “Yeah, my roommate didn’t come home last night.”

And just like that, Hyunjin’s chest aches. Why? What is this sorcery you are using on him?

“You can sleep at my place,” Hyunjin blurts out before he can stop himself. He inwardly curses himself and his own stupidity. “I mean, we’re all living separately at the moment and-“

“Yes please!” You clasp your hands around Hyunjin’s, eyes wide and full of hope. Your hands are cold and Hyunjin wants to warm them with his own.

Hyunjin coughs awkwardly, shaking you off. “Don’t touch me. You have like, fleas or something.”

You frown as you shiver and Hyunjin realizes that you’ve been out in the cold all night. With no sleep or food, and he really hates your roommate.

And you. Obviously. With your- Your horrible fashion taste and… What else even is there?

“You can shower too,” Hyunjin says before he can bite his tongue. “I have hot water, and I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Thank you, Hyunjin,” you say so sweetly. He thinks his heart melts for a second, but then he pulls himself together.

“Whatever,” he says, voice maybe cracking a bit when you smile at him. Why is your smile so… you?

So he takes you home (that’s weird to think about) and shows you to his shower. You close the door and he hears the water start up as he meanders to his kitchen.

Hyunjin cooks for you, trying his very best to not mess it up. It’s not his fault that accidents and burnings happen. Just as he’s serving it onto plates, he hears the bathroom door open.

Your head peeks out, hair damp and clinging to your face. “Hyunjin… Can I borrow some clothes, please?”

Hyunjin nods and scurries to find you something to wear. He manages to find a hoodie and some sweatpants and hands them to you through the crack in the door. He doesn’t look at you, having his head turned in the other direction.

You emerge from the bathroom, dressed in his clothes. Your hair is still wet and you try to pass your fingers through it before they get caught on a knot. 

“Let me help with that,” Hyunjin says, food forgotten. He dashes off to get his hairdryer and a brush, sitting on the couch.

“Oh, thanks.” You don’t take it from him, settling on the ground in front of him. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise but he doesn’t protest. “You’re so nice, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin flicks the hairdryer on, using the brush to gently untangle your hair. You sigh contently and let your eyes slide shut, clearly exhausted.

He’s suddenly struck by how… domestic this is.

You’re wearing his clothes while he’s drying and brushing your hair. He cooked you dinner and you’re about to take a nap in his bed, because he’s a gentleman and won’t have you sleep on the couch.

“Should I move?” you sleepily ask. “To a new apartment?”

“I think so.” Hyunjin puts the brush down so that he can feel if your hair is damp. He spends maybe a couple moments too long, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Your roommate sucks.”

“Yeah,” you groggily agree. “They really do.” You shift so that your weight is leaning against his leg, and your eyes drift completely shut. 

Hyunjin stares at you for a couple of seconds before nudging you. He hates to wake you when you obviously need the rest, but you can’t sleep here. Your neck would hurt after.

“Let’s get you to bed, okay?” Hyunjin is careful as he helps you to your feet, letting you slump against him as you walk. He guides you back to the bathroom and gives you some of his skincare to use.

The good stuff, mind you.

“Hmm?” you groggily say as he unscrews the cap.

Hyunjin quietly shushes you, scooping some moisturizer onto his hands. He pats it onto your face, gently smoothing it in. 

You lean into his touch. “You’re such a good friend, Hyunjin.”

And the moment is abruptly ruined. 

What is he doing? He’s being all soft and affectionate to you, when he’s supposed to hate you. 

Your outfits are ugly.

But he admires your confidence.

You laugh at the stupidest things.

But your delighted giggles makes his stomach flutter.

Hyunjin closes the moisturizer and shoos you to his room. You climb into bed and pull the sheets up to your chin.

“Hyunjiiin,” you whine, batting your eyelashes. “Cuddle me?”

He could cry and vomit at this very second. He’s in love with you if the rapid pace of his heartbeat means anything.

“Of course,” Hyunjin chokes out, kicking his slippers off to the side. He slides under the covers and lays there stiffly.

You curl against him, your cheek pressed against his chest. He’s about to pass out and die because of how fast is heart is going. And you don’t even realize the effect you have on him.

“G’night,” you slur out, drooling onto him a little.

“I like you,” Hyunjin softly responds, too cowardly to say it to you when you’re fully conscious. He feels the wet salvia pooling on his chest and scowls. 

Ew.

But he’ll forgive you for it, since you’re you.

Taglist:

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[1425fivefive]

I have no one to talk to about this so I thought I’d bring it here.

I hate that I’m like this, but I took a browse through some of the gossip pages this morning after seeing some interesting comments on quadrant’s insta. Seeing people have a breakdown over Lando’s dating life kinda makes me a little nostalgic. It reminds me of being a One Direction girly and being way too invested in the lives of famous 20 something-year-old men. Like it’s such bad behavior and I wish the cycle would stop, but it also reminds me of being a teenager and being so deeply in denial about the fact that my favorite boy is just as questionable if not worse than anyone he’s hooking up with. Like the run of the mill haterism and conspiracy theories are kind of funny, but the intense internalized misogyny makes my stomach hurt.

Sometimes I’m reminded that there are just a lot of people in the world who have never truly encountered a straightish man in his early 20s and for all of the obsessive behavior I see I kind of hope they never encounter one.

this is honestly why i will never ever repost or like any sort of hate toward wags. it feels like the epitome of none of my business. what, i think a millionaire athlete would choose me instead of their professional model girlfriend? i need everyone to be so serious. also so many women could free themselves from the prison of parasocialism if they just remembered that dating a straight male athlete sounds like the most annoying thing in the world. imagine your boyfriend having a bad race and you just have to sit there while he punches a hotel room wall and say, "no, babe, you were really good today." i'd rather walk into the ocean