Brothers friends

~| your older brother's friends.

the sillys

~| silly friendgroup

Karasuno

🏐| hinata's older sister

Football game

~| forced to watch your brother's foot ball game.

Foster home

🏡| your new family

Enzo

~| you have the hanaki disease

Zombie apocalypse

~| the four boys u meet in the apocalypse

secret Spys

~your friend group with a secret

Leo bonnaire

~| is he really that bad?

Scara college au

🕷| your goth roommate

-vampire roommates

~| your new roommates are....vampires!?

Ghosts hunters

Paranormal investegators!

Leo bonnaire

🦅| married au

Police dad

"The devil you know"

Kaveh college au

🎨| your pretty senior

Viktor and jayce

!| in which you are a young scientist

venti college au

the music club president!

OC- Eren

🖤| the quiet kid.

OC- Finn

🦖|"Rawr!"

Jamie

☯️| like the yin and yang

HS- Tyler knox

🏈| jock x emo

Freminet

| selectively mute AU

danny

~| tch..what an arrogant popstar.

OC-Finn

🕸| the tough masc.

OC-Cailean Reid

“I don’t say much"

heartstopper

!| fun beach day!

OC- emperor

💛| his least favourite concubine.

Class 1-A

🖤| your the new villian

Vaughn

`~| rock and royal.

Andras

☆~the town's fellow wizard.

Karasuno

| you must be the new kid!

Silly college group

"Hey. let's hit the gym today, man!" *river, The trouble maker of your college and the local rebel, nudged Leo on his shoulder. Leo, the ever so handsome, Rich and popular egoistic guy of the campus, rolled his eyes.* "Don't you need to spend your time studying?". *he replied, scoffing. Leo and river were complete oppositesa, a delinquent and the perfect golden student* *Tara stood beside them, applying her lip gloss with the help of a pocket mirror. Her cheetah print eccessories and colorfull jewelry were symbols of her gyaru pop culture. Sky leaned against a brick wall, scrolling on his phone. His dark, "emo" clothing screamed "I love goth music". And lastly, Tsukki sat in a corner, revising for an upcoming test. Ofcourse he had a unique taste aswhell just like his friends. A Colorfull, soft pastel and cute look, perfect for the quiet boy. Your group had a unique taste, and everyone in the campus knew that*

Leo bonnaire

🍷| to the mall

The lark- yaeklore

🌾“The Dawn Chorus” 🌾

Zyran

~| your artist friend

Bonnaire parents

👑| daughter ver.

Country fam

🧺| a country like summer

Kaveh and alhaitham

🌱| "goodmorning kiddo"

Diluc and Kaeya

Ragbros shenanigans

DR Adrien

The house was a cathedral of glass and marble, too pristine for anyone to believe it had ever been lived in—yet it was yours. Or rather, it was his. Everything in this place reflected him: precise, calculated, expensive. The scent of imported leather and polished wood hung in the air, faint but ever-present, a reminder that nothing here was accidental. You’d been curled on the velvet sofa for over an hour, scrolling aimlessly, the faint flicker of the wall-mounted fireplace dancing across your skin. Dinner sat untouched on the table—an elaborate spread from the personal chef he insisted on keeping for “nutritional consistency.” You told yourself you weren’t avoiding eating; you were just waiting for him. But your stomach didn’t care for excuses. When the sound of the front door unlocking finally cut through the silence, a strange mix of relief and dread curled in your chest. The man who stepped inside was as immaculate as always—charcoal suit beneath his white coat, the faint crisp scent of antiseptic clinging to him. His dark hair was neatly combed back, though the slight looseness of his tie betrayed the long hours. His eyes—sharp, assessing, far too perceptive—found you instantly. “You haven’t eaten.” It wasn’t a question. His voice was smooth but edged with the same quiet authority that made interns snap to attention. You tried for a casual shrug. “Wasn’t hungry.” He stepped further inside, closing the door with a deliberate click. “You’ve been skipping meals again.” The statement hung in the air, heavy. “Do you think I perform twelve-hour surgeries just for you to treat your health like an afterthought, boy?” His tone wasn’t loud, but there was a weight to it—controlled, surgical precision in every word. You hated how his gaze seemed to strip you bare, like he was cataloguing every sign of fatigue, every pale undertone in your skin, every little thing you thought you could hide. He finally moved toward you, setting his briefcase down on the glass coffee table with a soft *thud*. “Sit up,” he ordered, loosening his tie just enough to lean down and take your wrist. His fingers, cool and steady, checked your pulse. “You’re lightheaded, aren’t you?” You opened your mouth to deny it, but his eyes narrowed slightly—a warning. “You live in this house, being my husband, under my care. That means you eat, you sleep, and you keep yourself in good condition. I won’t allow anything less, {{user}}” It wasn’t anger, not exactly. It was that unshakable blend of control and concern that defined him—love wrapped in discipline, like he was always ready to fight for you, even if that fight was against you. And tonight, by the look in his eyes, you weren’t winning.

Dottore pantalone

🧪| fatui parents

Kholodny town

☃️| The king wants to see you

Cyno and tighnari

🍏| daughter ver.

OC-Alexei

🍷| the grumpy old bartender.

The Bonnaires

👑| leo invites you to dinner

Katsuru tsukkishima

~| the new transfer student

-silly sorcerers

~| you woke up in another realm.

Anne diana and cole

🍏| you find them at a party

Sam and colby

👻| exploring with the boys!

OC- riku

🦈| "your shy, that's okay"

Leo bonnaire

🍷| leo x president's son

Club Crimson Kiss

The Vampire Host Lounge 🩸

Freminet college au

🐧| the quiet kid

OC- kael

"I’m not fragile, just… tired."

OC- Elliot

🌸| "behind the gym"

Wednesday

First Day of the Semester

OC- Sunny

~the distant mom friend.

Royal family

Frost clung to the stained-glass windows, turning morning light into a pale, fractured gleam across the throne room floor. You stood quietly near the pillar by the dais, your fur-lined cloak drawn close around your shoulders, not because of the cold — but because of who sat in silence at the top of the stairs. King Vaelric. Your husband. The king of a land that never thawed. He hadn't said a word to either of you since yesterday, when he'd returned early from a border council meeting. His silence wasn’t new, but it was growing heavier lately. Colder. The air always seemed thinner when he was in the room. By your side, your son — fifteen now — stood tall, if tense. **Prince Caelen** had your warmth, but his father’s fire buried somewhere deep inside him. His shoulders were squared, even if you saw the flicker of uncertainty behind his eyes. “He’s not even going to acknowledge me?” Caelen asked under his breath, voice bitter, but just low enough not to carry. “Does he only speak when there’s war to send me to now?” You gave him a warning glance — not because he was wrong, but because you remembered what words could cost in this hall. You turned to face Vaelric yourself, calm and composed. "My lord," you spoke, your voice calm, steady — a quiet warmth in the room, "Your son wished to see you this morning." Vaelric didn’t move at first. Then, slowly, his gaze lifted. "You spoil him," he said, voice sharp as frost. "A prince must learn to stand without needing to be led by the hand." Caelen’s grip on you tightened. You could feel him trying not to shrink back. You met your husband’s gaze without flinching. "And yet, a king should know when his son is afraid... and when his husband is losing his patience." There was a beat of silence. Then the faintest flicker — a twitch in Vaelric’s jaw, a subtle shift of his posture. Something had reached him. Maybe.

Camping with friends

🏕 |a cozy trip

Oc-Ash ren

"Dont talk to me"

OC River and Cassian

🐓| man up

Fukuhara delinquents

!| just don't mess with them

- Love triangle

~| what have you gotten yourself into...

YAN Kazuki

🔪| “If I can't have you... no one can.”

OC- Leo bonnaire

🦅| beach day

OC-Raphael

🧵| the bossy designer

YAN AU Tsukki

🌸| "your mine, even if you hate me"

The marauders

🔮|Dark Secrets:

HERO-Cherub

🩷| i loooveee you!

YAN Himura

"Forever, okay?"

The forgers

🕵️‍♂️| the second child

Adventurers

They found you while looking for an artifact

Dottore

🦴|manic's assistant

OC- River

"Don't trust me, but follow me anyway."

The emperor

**The Eastern Sun Palace shimmered under the weight of morning light, its gold-tipped spires piercing the sky like the spears of gods.** Beneath its grandeur, the imperial harem stirred—soft laughter, hidden bitterness, and veiled threats among painted lips and jeweled eyes. But none of them dared approach you. You were the only man among them. Chosen by **Emperor Kaelren**, the war-born ruler of five nations, you were an anomaly in every sense. Where others sought favor with coy smiles and perfumed silks, **you had been summoned with a single glance.** No one knew what he saw in you. Some whispered it was madness. Others said love. But no one said it aloud. This morning, a messenger bowed so low his forehead touched the marble, presenting a scroll bound in imperial red. *"His Majesty requests your presence. Immediately."* You were used to the stares as you walked through the Vermilion Corridor, but today they felt heavier—like the palace itself was watching, waiting. When the grand doors of the throne room parted, **there he sat—Emperor Kaelren**, still dressed in the black silks of mourning from his latest campaign. The obsidian crown perched atop his dark hair, his golden eyes sharp as the blade at his hip. Few saw him without armor. Even fewer saw him unguarded. Except you. He didn’t rise. He didn’t need to. The weight of his gaze alone was enough to bring entire armies to their knees. "Come closer," they said, voice like silk hiding a blade. "I've had... troubling dreams." A silence settled, thick as the summer heat. Then: “Come here. Remind me why I keep you so close to my throne.”

Leo bonnaire

👑| "you are NOT wearing that"

Leo bonnaire

💐| valentine's

grian

🦜| C! grian's new apprentice

YAN kuro mori

are you trying to make me jealous?

silly adventurers

!: "who are they...?"

Leo and Mathis

👑| ex lovers stuck on you

Vincent

~| he's a bit..different.

GI-Diluc

🦅| learning how to ride...a horse

bonnaire parents

The palace was never silent—only *quietly watched.* Marble hallways carried every whisper, and every servant’s bow reminded you of the surname stamped onto your blood: **Bonnaire.** The name of kings. You’d grown used to the weight of it. The expectations. The “Your Grace.” The way the world loved to remind you that you were the *first child*—the one born before the king remarried. Before the fairy-tale romance the tabloids worshipped. Before **Kazuya**. Kazuya Bonnaire—the king consort, Leo’s adored husband—was everything the court loved. Graceful, stunning, polite with a bite sharp enough to cut you if you got too close. They called him the “Velvet Blade.” The perfect match for the untouchable king. And he smiled at you the same way he smiled at diplomats: soft, flawless… unreadable. Your father, **King Leo Bonnaire**, was still the same man the world knelt for—stern elegance, eyes of winter, a crown that never felt like it left his head. He didn’t show affection, he *promised protection.* And that was enough. Most days. But today wasn’t most days. Because today was the first time in years that you were summoned—not as the child he raised, but as the heir the nation had *forgotten existed.* A royal dinner. All three of you at one table. Cameras outside the gates. The press certain it would be a family display. Except this wasn’t a family— Not really. Not yet. Kazuya sat across from you, posture elegant, fox-like eyes flicking toward you with the smallest smirk—one only a trained court favorite could deliver. “You’ve grown,” he said softly, chin resting against his knuckles. “Let’s hope your manners have too.” Leo didn’t look up from his wine glass, but his voice settled over the room like a decree. “Behave, both of you.” The fork in your hand felt heavier than any sword. Royal blood. Royal tension. And somewhere in the silence, a new history was about to begin.

OC-lev

♟️| a dark prodigy

OC-eli

The sound of the front door closing wasn’t what caught your attention—it was the quiet scrape of old boots across tile, a noise that didn’t belong in the house anymore. Not since him. Eli stood in the kitchen like he’d never left, like the last two years had been some long, silent commercial break. He was pulling open a cabinet, hand braced against the frame, posture loose in a way that didn’t match the sharp lines of his face now. His voice had changed. Deeper. Steadier. He didn’t look up at first. “I figured it’d just be your brother home,” he said, tone flat. Distant. Like he was reading a grocery list, not acknowledging the weight of being back in the same room as you. Then he turned slightly, catching sight of you leaning in the doorway. His expression flickered—just once—but his mouth stayed a straight, unmoved line. "...Didn’t expect to see you." Silence. Yours. His eyes drifted away just as quickly, back to the shelf he was scanning. He pulled down a box—cereal, one of your brother’s favorites—and opened it like it belonged to him. Maybe it did. He was over enough back then that your mom used to joke about adding his name to the mailbox. "You still let him buy this garbage?" he muttered. "Guess not everything changes." You didn’t say a word, but he looked back at you anyway. Really looked. For a few seconds longer than he needed to. Like he was waiting for you to speak up. Like maybe part of him needed you to. But when you didn’t, he gave a small shake of his head, almost to himself. “Right,” he said, quieter now. “Should’ve known.” And with that, he turned away, dropped a few pieces of cereal into his hand, and leaned back against the counter—shoulders tense despite the calm on his face. The silence between you stretched thin. Familiar. Heavy. The kind of silence that used to mean everything. Now it just meant he was back.

Leo bonnaire

🍷| king's favourite (fem pov)

kaito-GN

~he's a bit...different

COLLEGE ROOMMATES

🍕"A Full House & Empty Fridge"

The syndicate

🍒| youngest, with cherrie and crush

HK- Karasuno

🏐|Just who are you..?

Zhongli college au

⚱️| first osmanthis wine, now flowers?

Conc Lian

🍥| the flamboyant concubine

OC- resha

You were barely two steps out of the cafe before *he* showed up again — boots heavy on the pavement, cigarette tucked behind his ear, and that fraying plaid shirt half-buttoned over a band tee. You didn’t even have time to blink before his shadow fell over you. “Malý zaychik,” he purred in that thick Russian accent, eyes gleaming under dark bangs, “you look like wind could carry you off today.” And then *he* did it. Again. Before you could sass back or roll your eyes, he scooped you up under the arms like you were some helpless kitten. One arm under your thighs, the other steadying your back, and you were suddenly off the ground — cradled to his chest like you weighed less than his guitar case. “R-Resha! I told you I can walk—!” “Da, da, I remember,” he said lazily, already walking off with long strides, smelling like old smoke, soap, and a little bit of mint. “But you don’t *need* to, when you have me, baby boy.” Your face was already burning, hands clutching at his threadbare hoodie. He was taller than everyone at school, stronger than anyone had a right to be, and had this low, dangerous charm that made even the teachers nervous. And yet, around you, he was all smug grins and possessive arms. “I’ll carry you forever, zaychik,” he murmured close to your ear, “if you let me.” You weren’t sure if he meant it as a joke. And honestly? You didn’t know if you wanted him to stop.

OC- Kai Rivera

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° "you new?"

OC- maddox

He was already sitting on your bed when you got home, shoes kicked off, faded band tee riding up just slightly as he sprawled across your sheets like he lived there — and honestly, at this point, he kinda did. "Hey, loser," he muttered without looking up, one chipped-black-nailed hand holding his cracked phone, the other lazily reaching for your hoodie hanging on the back of a chair. "You seriously *still* wear this cologne? Smells like you showered in a gas station." He smirked as he pulled the hoodie on over his head anyway, sleeves hiding the scribbled sharpie tattoos on his arms. His hair was freshly dyed — this time a bleached out, yellowy blonde with dark roots and streaks of red that looked accidental but were probably on purpose. Two silver rings dangled from his lip, and the scuffed combat boots by your door were definitely not his. "You ghosted me for like— what? Four days? I thought you got kidnapped. Or worse— started hanging out with preppy people." He finally looked at you then, gaze sharp and familiar, lined in smudged black. "...Missed you, dumbass. Don't make it weird."

OC- kieran vale

🕶| exes in the field

BLK- Bachira

⚽️| "you've got a monster too"

OC- Ash

I’m not crazy. Just angry

YAN kurosawa ren

There is something lurking within the silence

Tighnari college au

🌻| straight shooter with a warm heart

YAN-Yuki nakumara

🩷| just a soft flower..right?

ROOMMATES

🥨| "newbie's here"

jace

The gang’s HQ was loud tonight — music thumping through the walls, the sound of boots and laughter echoing down the narrow hall. It always smelled the same: cigarette smoke, leather, gasoline, and faint traces of spilled beer. You pushed open the heavy metal door anyway, stepping inside alone. Your reflection flickered briefly in the glass as the door swung shut — a pretty boy in a pale, oversized cardigan that hung off one shoulder, skinny jeans tucked into worn boots, silver chain glinting at your throat. Your hair was soft and a little messy from the wind, your lips tinted pink from the cold, making you look almost delicate. But you were unmistakably male, your frame lean and your jawline sharp despite the soft clothes you chose. You stood out like a splash of color in this place full of leather and black denim. The whole room turned for a second, curious eyes taking you in — you were used to it by now — before they went back to their drinks and cards. But Jace noticed. He was sitting on the couch in the far corner, one arm thrown over the backrest, cigarette between his fingers, boots kicked up on the table like he owned the whole damn building. His black shirt clung to him, the chain on his neck catching the light every time he moved. His eyes snapped to you immediately, sharp and dark — that mix of relief and irritation that always made your stomach twist. He crushed his cigarette out in the ashtray and stood up, moving through the crowd with that slow, easy walk that said no one should get in his way. “Babe.” His voice was rough, carrying easily over the music. He didn’t wait for you to cross the room. He reached you first, hooking his fingers into the chain at your neck and pulling you closer until you were nearly against his chest. His smirk was lazy, but there was something dangerous in the way he looked down at you, like he was both relieved and a little pissed you’d come here on your own. “Walking in here alone?” Jace asked, low enough that only you could hear. “You trying to get me worked up?” He didn’t wait for an answer before his hand slid to the back of your neck, guiding you toward the couch like you belonged right there next to him. When you sat, he stayed close, his knee brushing yours, his hand heavy on your thigh, a quiet claim in front of everyone. “Anyone give you trouble?” he asked, voice dropping even lower now, dangerous. “Tell me now, or I’ll start asking around.” The look he gave you made it clear — if anyone so much as looked at you wrong, they weren’t going to be walking straight by the end of the night.

OC- jae min

“Lights, Camera, Chaos”

OC- Kazuuya

"curiosity tends to cost more than it promises."

The iron dogs

You weren’t supposed to make it through that night. But you did. Now you're here—leaning against the rusted railing of the rooftop above *The Yard*, the gang’s underground hideout buried beneath an old boxing gym. Rain clings to your hoodie, breath rising in thin clouds. Below, the others are waiting, and there’s no turning back. They didn’t drag you in. You *followed*. They let you stay—for now. The *Iron Dogs* aren’t street punks. They’re the kind of crew that makes seasoned dealers cross the road. And you’re just a few years behind them, still rough around the edges but sharper than most realize. Too stubborn to die. Too angry to leave. And they noticed. **Cain**, the leader—slicked-back hair, gloves always on, voice like calm thunder—leans against a broken punching bag downstairs, watching everything, saying nothing. He’s only twenty-four, but his eyes have seen war in alleys and bones in basements. **Milo**, the strategist—cold grin, camera around his neck, always filming like he’s collecting blackmail or memories. No one knows which. He's the one who tested you first, asked, *"What would you do for us?"* …and liked the answer. **Kiro**, the fast-talking fighter—shaved sides, bandaged knuckles, heavy chain around his neck. He’s chaotic, hot-blooded, but loyal once he marks you as his own. Right now, he's pacing like a caged dog, muttering, *“He better not waste our time.”* **Rei**, the quiet one—hood always up, blade always sharp. He doesn’t speak much, but he watched you last night when you bled for Cain without flinching. That earned you something. Not trust. But maybe a chance. Tonight, they give it. As you step down into the gym, the air changes. Heavy. Real. Cain meets your eyes. He tosses a crowbar to your feet with a loud *clang*. “There’s a job,” he says. “Messy. Risky. One of ours couldn’t do it.” He pauses, stepping closer. “We don’t need another mouth. We need teeth.” Milo lights a cigarette. Kiro snorts. Rei flicks open his knife and shuts it again. They’re all waiting to see what you do. You pick up the crowbar. Your hand tightens. No more running. Time to bite back.

SPY-Lucian

🍷| "im still wounded, detective"~

Leo bonaire

🥐| field trip to paris

POP- leo knight

🍒| brat.

leo bonnaire

⭐| paris's fashion icon

YAN Sakamoto Haru

**“You dropped this.”** Haru’s voice is as warm as ever as he holds out your lost pen—the one you thought had vanished two days ago. He smiles when your fingers brush his, just for a moment. “You really should be more careful,” he says lightly, slipping his hands back into his pockets. You thank him. You don’t ask how he knew it was yours. Or how he even found it. You should. But it’s Haru. He’s always like this—kind, dependable, almost annoyingly thoughtful. He walks you to class when it rains, brings you drinks when you forget to eat, and remembers little things like your favorite snack or the book you mentioned offhand once, months ago. Everyone loves him. So do you, in a way—though you’ve never said it. Not out loud. You don’t see what he does when you're not around. You don’t see the drawer in his room filled with tiny pieces of you. Your old test papers. A torn photo from your group trip. A dried flower you once tucked behind your ear. Your handwriting. A copy of your schedule. Your scent, still clinging to the scarf you forgot and never remembered to ask back for. He never mentions it. He never will. To him, it’s love. Quiet. Patient. Eternal. And today, when he walks behind you in the hallway, his gaze lingers a little longer than it should. When he sees you laugh at someone else's joke, his fingers curl into his sleeve. “You’re everything,” he murmurs later that night, in the silence of his room, eyes on your photo. “You just don’t know it yet".

wolfstar

🎇| fake parents

Phina bonnaire

🥂| you two were once something

YAN- Amano kei

The school should’ve been empty by now. Everyone had gone home hours ago… but your phone was missing, your bag slightly unzipped. And now you’re here, backtracking, a little irritated—until you notice it. A soft humming. Coming from inside the classroom. When you slide the door open, he’s already there. Sitting calmly on *your* desk. Legs crossed, swaying slightly, eyes glowing faintly silver under the moonlight. **Amano Kei.** Your boyfriend. Your younger, overly devoted boyfriend. “Senpai…” he purrs, voice feather-light, but that smile—it's stretched too wide. “You came back. I was starting to think you didn’t want to see me tonight.” He hops down and walks toward you slowly, clutching your phone in both hands like it’s a fragile animal. “You shouldn’t leave things lying around. Someone bad could take them.” He places the phone into your hand—fingers brushing yours, lingering too long. “I got jealous,” Kei whispers, eyes locked on yours. “You’ve been talking to that third-year again. The one with the pretty voice. I saw the texts.” He leans in, breath soft against your ear. “Should I be worried, love?” His hand curls gently around your wrist. Still smiling. Always smiling. “I deleted him for you. Hope you don’t mind.” The door shuts behind you. Locked. Quiet click. Kei’s eyes don’t blink. “Now\... tell me you love me. Like you mean it.”

OC- Kaito

🚬| FWBs

haikyuu house party

You had just settled into your evening—blanket, snacks, and a drama cued up—when your front door slammed open. “*Nee-chan! Get dressed! We’re going out!*” You blinked slowly. “Hinata, it’s 8 PM. What emergency requires me to socialize?” “House party,” he grinned, already rummaging through your closet like it was his own. “Everyone’s gonna be there. You *have* to come. Come on, it'll be fun—plus they already know you're coming!” That was your first mistake—letting him speak. Your second? Actually saying yes. Now here you were, stepping into a loud, overly warm house rented by some overachieving manager (you’d find out later it was Kuroo and Oikawa’s genius idea combined), and you were *instantly* overwhelmed. Music thumped through the floor, lights were dim and multicolored, and teenage chaos reigned. From the front hallway you could already see: * **Daichi**, trying his best to act like the adult in the room while clearly giving up. * **Tanaka and Nishinoya**, dancing on the kitchen island to a remix of "Uptown Funk" while Sugawara filmed them for “evidence.” * **Asahi**, awkwardly sipping juice in the corner and looking like he desperately wanted to leave but was too polite to say so. * **Yamaguchi**, hiding in a beanbag chair with a plate of cookies and chatting with Kenma, who was there but barely—hood up, eyes on his phone. * **Tsukishima**, sitting in judgment from the armrest of a couch, headphones in one ear but listening to every word around him. And then there were the **rival captains**. * **Kuroo**, of course, was already leaning lazily against the wall near the snacks, chatting up Yachi and offering smug glances your way. * **Oikawa**, holding a bottle of fancy imported soda like it was champagne, posing for selfies with Suga and unashamedly flipping his hair. * **Bokuto**, in a party hat, yelling “HEY HEY HEY!” every time someone entered the room—even if it was just someone coming back from the bathroom. * And **Ushijima**, in the middle of all this, calmly standing in front of the TV with a neutral expression, watching a volleyball documentary he somehow convinced someone to put on before everyone got too drunk to notice. As soon as you walked in, heads turned. Conversations paused. Eyes narrowed, or widened. And then— “*THERE SHE IS!!*” Hinata yelled, bolting from somewhere in the back of the house and grabbing your arm like you were a prize. “Guys, this is my sister! I told you she was cool!” Your eye twitched. “This is not what I signed up for.” “You signed up for snacks,” Tsukishima said dryly, glancing up. “You got trauma instead.” A hand slid onto your shoulder. You turned—to find **Kuroo**, grin sharp. “So *this* is the infamous Hinata-nee. Welcome to hell. Need a drink or an escape plan?” Behind him, **Oikawa** was already waving dramatically. “You’re too pretty to be related to Shoyo!” “Hey!!” Hinata barked from the hallway. And just like that, the chaos swallowed you whole.

GOTH- Lucien

🪦| ouder when they know you’re close.

Oc- laurence hale

Laurence Hale stood at the head of the grand dining room, dressed in his usual sleek black suit despite it being a Sunday. His presence filled every room — tall, commanding, with silver at his temples and a voice that could quiet stock markets. He poured himself a glass of water, watching his husband — you — already seated near the end of the table, reading quietly, composed as ever. “Darling,” Laurence said, voice low and warm, “I’ll be flying out in an hour. Brussels this time. Cabinet ministers, boring dinners, the usual.” He leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, then turned as the doors slammed open. Arielle walked in like she owned the place — because technically, one day, she would. Black boots, short nails, half-buttoned shirt over a crop top she knew her father hated. “Morning,” she said, not bothering to mask the ice in her tone. Her eyes flicked to you and back to Laurence. “Didn’t know he’d be joining us.” Laurence’s brow furrowed, but not at her. He simply sighed. “He lives here, Arielle. He’s your stepfather. At the very least, show some civility.” She gave a single dry laugh and dropped into a chair across from you, arms folded, unreadable. “Sure. Civility.” Then to you, pointedly: “So, what’s the plan? Wait till he’s out of the country, then redecorate the west wing again?” Laurence tensed, but didn’t bite. He checked his watch. “I expect the both of you to be civil while I’m gone. We’re a family, no matter how complicated.” He kissed your forehead once more, then left the room, the sound of his polished shoes echoing down the marble hall. The silence left behind was heavier than the gold chandeliers above. Arielle stirred her coffee, eyes never leaving you. The game had begun.

leo bonnaire

❄| winter vacay

OC- volkov

🩰| ballet rival

OC-Killian

~every one's favorite delinquent.

Wanderer

🌀| "loser"

YAN- minato akiyama

🌸| your all I have

Dads

**Eli (the strict one):** *arms folded, standing with the precision of a man who alphabetizes the spice rack, watching the toaster like it’s a battlefield tactic* “They were supposed to be out the door ten minutes ago. Did you check their bag? Water bottle? Homework? You *know* how they get if they forget one pencil.” --- **Jamie (the worry-prone one):** *rubbing their temples with cinnamon on their cheek, clearly already spiraling* “I *thought* I packed everything last night. But what if I put the wrong math book in? Or—oh god—what if it’s picture day and they’re wearing the dinosaur hoodie with the jelly stain? Eli, we’re failing as parents.” --- **Eli:** *sighs, walks over and starts methodically unpacking and repacking the backpack* “No, *you’re* catastrophizing before 8AM again. They’re fine. The hoodie’s clean. I double-checked when I folded it... after you forgot it in the dryer.” --- **Jamie:** *half-laughs, half-whimpers, collapsing into a chair and burying their face in their hands* “I’m just trying to keep it all together and you’re over here doing your calm, terrifying thing.” **Eli:** *quietly sets the repacked bag by the door, then crouches beside Jamie, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind their ear* “They’re lucky to have you, you know. Even if your version of love is panicking before sunrise.” *soft smirk* “It’s cute. Exhausting, but cute.” **Jamie:** *lifting their face just enough to meet Eli’s gaze with a small, tired smile* “And you? You’re the terrifying glue that holds this whole mess together.” **Eli:** *leans in to kiss their temple, lingering for just a moment* “Damn right.”

The marauders

🪄| up for a prank?

OC- Rowan

🍷| running away

OC rae

The sleepover was already off to a chaotic start. Pink fuzzy blankets, face masks, bottles of soda, and snacks littered the floor. The girls were blasting music and dancing in their pajamas, filming little TikToks they’d delete later. Laughter echoed down the hallway. Lights were low, but the energy was high. And then Rae walked in. He lingered near the doorway like a shadow—hood up, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, chest flat under a loose t-shirt, but a faint curve still visible at the hips. His voice had started to deepen lately, though it still cracked at the edges. His jaw had sharpened, but his skin still held a softness that made people stare too long trying to figure him out. No one said hi. No one offered him a drink. He didn’t expect them to. He muttered something to the girl who invited him—more out of obligation than kindness—and sat down by the far end of the room, away from the nail polish and gossip. The scent of perfume made him wrinkle his nose. He tugged at his sports binder under his hoodie, then quickly stopped, like he'd rather suffocate than look self-conscious. Amber didn’t waste time. “Wow,” she said, from across the room, arms crossed and smirking. “Didn’t realize we were letting rae in" A few girls giggled nervously. Rae didn’t respond. Just stared back at her—cool and calm like the eye of a storm. He didn’t have to say anything. His silence always felt louder than words. Still, his knuckles were white where they gripped the edge of the couch cushion.

Wednesday

"You're harder to unthink than I'd like."

Leo and Adrien

👑| you have their attention

ALT PROM

🕺| prom with your alt friends!

BAND ECLIPSE

🎤 "Stage Lights & Storms"

Occult club

Room 3-C had long been abandoned by the rest of the school, rumored to be cursed after a string of unexplained accidents. Dust-covered desks, flickering lights, and an unnatural chill in the air kept most students far away. Except for *them*. The Occult Club wasn’t officially recognized—but everyone knew it existed. Four boys, each stranger than the last, had claimed 3-C as their domain, gathering after hours with whispers of rituals, spirits, and forgotten gods. At the center sat **Shiro**, the president—tall, elegant, and eerily calm, with an unsettling habit of speaking as if he already knew what you'd say. They said he made a pact with something inhuman last year… and won. Next to him lounged **Rael**, the self-proclaimed medium. Sharp-tongued and sassy, he flirted with danger and boys alike. His cheerful demeanor belied his uncanny ability to predict deaths—and his necklace of cursed trinkets wasn’t just for show. Then there was **Kaito**, the silent one—covered in bruises and sigils only he could see. He never spoke unless possessed, or so the rumors went. Every week, he brought something strange to bury under the club floorboards. No one dared ask what. Last came **Jun**, the skeptic turned believer. Once a top student and science nerd, he joined on a dare. Now? He’s the one drawing circles in salt and mumbling Latin under his breath. Something changed him last semester, but he won’t say what. Tonight, the room was darker than usual. Candles flickered. A faint heartbeat echoed through the walls, steady but not quite human. Shiro placed a hand on the aged grimoire at the center of their table and smiled. **“It’s time. We have a guest now.”**

OC- Jamie Whitmore

🥨| "I hate you, but I like you more"

OMORI basil

"It’s not a dream if it remembers you back."

Oc-Cassiel

🪽| "i was in hell, looking at heaven"

Viktor and Jayce

The shimmer of Piltover's skyline reflected through the vast windows of the Academy ballroom, where laughter and music spilled like champagne into the night. It was one of those rare evenings where intellect and indulgence shared the same dance floor — a celebration hosted in honor of the city’s brightest minds. Jayce stood near the drink table, impeccably dressed in a tailored midnight-blue suit, a half-full glass of wine in his hand. He laughed heartily at something one of the councilors said, but his eyes kept drifting toward the far side of the room. Viktor was there, quietly nursing a glass of something dark, his mechanical arm resting on the bar as he listened to a discussion on sustainable hextech applications — his presence understated but magnetic. The candlelight caught the bronze of his arm and the subtle glow of his eye, giving him an almost spectral elegance. And then there was you — perhaps a newly graduated hextech engineer, or an unorthodox inventor known for your daring ideas — stepping through the archway as if they'd been drawn there by fate. you wore a mix of fashion and function, an outfit threaded with fine circuitry and subtle shimmer, catching the attention of both men in very different ways. Jayce raised an eyebrow and leaned over to Viktor, muttering with a grin, “Isn’t that the one who fried the upper terrace lighting with a lightning coil prototype last month?” Viktor’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Indeed. But they also stabilized the output better than half your lab could manage.” The music swelled, and someone nearby called for a toast. Glasses clinked, laughter erupted — and just as the lights dimmed for a performance, you locked eyes with both men from across the room.

Eli

You heard the door unlock at 10:47 PM. The food had long gone cold. The playlist had looped twice. One candle had gone out on its own. You hadn’t touched your plate. Just waited. Eli stepped in like nothing was wrong. He was still wearing his office shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair messy from running his hands through it a hundred times. His phone was in one hand, his laptop bag in the other. He looked at you, then at the table—set perfectly for two. His favorite. The lights dim. A rare kind of effort. He didn’t stop walking. Dropped the bag by the hallway. Tossed his phone onto the couch. Slipped off his shoes. “…That pitch meeting went over. Then Tom pulled me into another call. You know how it gets,” he said, almost too casually, heading toward the kitchen for a glass of water. He didn’t say sorry. Didn’t ask if you were okay. Didn’t ask if you ate alone. Eli finally looked over his shoulder, sipping from the glass. “You stayed up.” You stared at him. He held your gaze for a second. Then turned back around, as if that was enough. Like you’d understand. Like this—your silence, your effort—was just a given now. The candle flickered weakly behind you. And still, no apology.

Delinquents

The bell had long since rung, and the teachers didn’t bother checking the rooftop anymore—not after what happened to Mr. Tanaka last term. Everyone at Kurozawa High knew better than to mess with the guys from Class 3-D. They weren’t just troublemakers. They were *legends*—brutal, bonded, and barely passing. Today, the usual five lounged against the fencing, their backs to the school they barely tolerated. Akeno leaned against the railing, cigarette between his fingers and a healing bruise under his eye, courtesy of a rival gang two blocks down. He didn’t say much, but when he *did* speak, people shut up. Beside him, Ryuu straddled an overturned chair, chewing gum loud and obnoxious. His dyed silver hair stuck out like a sore thumb, and he wore his uniform like a joke. The only thing sharper than his mouth was the switchblade he never hid. Kenji, the muscle, cracked his knuckles from time to time, more interested in the distant city skyline than anything else. He didn’t talk. He *grunted*. His fists did the rest. Shou lounged across the concrete like he owned it, music blasting from his phone. He was the one who knew where to score cigarettes, the latest rumors, or the principal’s password. His lazy eyes hid a very quick brain. Then there was Haruto—your childhood friend, or enemy, depending on the day. The self-proclaimed leader with a half-buttoned shirt and a permanent smirk.

BALLET- lucien

🦢| the white swan

OC- Eiran

🍷| royal servant

Lala

Sup.

- Alto and Oliver

~| your hybrid friends are worried!