#and will probably start a third after this

[demie90s]

Can you write a reader x UConn team and reader has like no filter like they could be in the most serious moment and reader would say something out of pocket

Why she got a mic?

UConn WBB Team x Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: Me. The team’s walking HR violation. No matter the mood, you will say something that has the whole team side-eyeing, laughing, or questioning reality.

Word Count: ~ 0.5k

Genre: Comedy, Team Fluff, Mild Crack

Warnings: Cussing, chaos, suggestiveness, mentions of thirst, reader being out of pocket at all times

The mic wasn’t even all the way clipped to your jersey before you started talking.

“So like…y’all gon’ feed us after this right? ‘Cause I don’t wanna sound ungrateful but that little fruit tray y’all gave us pregame made me feel like a parrot.”

You were dead serious. Meanwhile, the rest of the UConn team was already doing synchronized neck turns to Geno, who stared ahead like maybe if he focused hard enough he could astral project into retirement.

The reporter chuckled awkwardly. “Right, well—uh—let’s talk about the game. You had a breakout performance in the third quarter. What clicked?”

You nodded solemnly. “I had to pee real bad so I was tryna hurry up and get off the court. Y’all saw me running? That was urgency. It’s called motivation.”

Laughter broke out across the room. Aubrey dropped her head into her hands. Nika was crying silently.

Someone else raised their hand—braver than most.

“You guys really shut down USC’s offense tonight. What went into that defensive game plan?”

You tilted your head. “I mean, yeah. I saw that. USC good and all…but not as good as us so like…I don’t really care. Sorry.”

Caroline leaned in with a PR-smile. “What she means is we watched a lot of film and trusted each other—”

“No,” you cut in. “That’s not what I meant. I said what I said.”

The reporter blinked. “A-And uh—Aubrey, you had a great night on the boards…”

You slouched in your chair. “Yeah, and yet still no date.”

Aubrey snapped her head toward you. “Yo—”

“I told her, I said, ‘If God see fit and we win tonight, you gon’ say yes’—and we did. We won. And she still didn’t say yes. So she fake but that’s between her and the Lord.”

KK was wheezing. “You need help.”

You turned to her calmly. “Nah I need a girlfriend. Two different things.”

The reporter next to the stage was beet red now, trying not to laugh into their notes. “Okay, uh…next question—what was going through your mind during that final play?”

You crossed one leg over the other like this was Oprah. “I was thinking, if the world ended right then, we’d all go with it, so I might as well go out with a win. That’s real.”

Geno rubbed his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

You leaned into the mic again, like a closing statement. “Thank you. And please remember to feed athletes. We is hungry.”

The PR rep jumped in so fast her paper nearly flew off the table. “That’s it! Thanks so much, everyone!”

The moment y’all stepped backstage, Geno turned slowly.

“You know they record those, right?”

“Yeah Coach.”

“And they post them.”

“Mmhm.”

“You’re going to get us sued.”

You gave him your most sincere expression. “It’s okay. I got a lil savings.”

He looked like he aged ten years in five seconds.

Behind you, Aubrey shoved your shoulder, laughing. “Yo are you alright.”

You shrugged. “I’m just honest. And single. And hungry. Somebody gone address it.”

Just like that, you were back in the locker room, already hyping yourself up for post-game food and probably more chaos. Because filters are for water—not for you.

@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264 @yorubagirlsworld @daffodil-darlings @h4untedghOul @followthesvn @hibiscusblu @sevikasleftbicep @swiftie4evr @babyphatbrat @sivensblog @beeop223 @huntedghOul @tpwkrosalinda @lightsgore @em-nems @salemsuccss @villain-ryuk @ihrtsarahstrOng @liyahh037 @sillystarv @somedetailsinthefabric @essence-134340 @mochelisgf @soph1asticated @heheievidbri @unvswrld @breezybellab @planet-ghoulborne @art-ofmusic @toorealrai

[starkeymeow]

hi! loving your rafe cameron who thingy at the moment it’s so good and i love all the different fandoms and ideas! i was wondering if you’d ever consider writing a slytherin rafe x hufflepuff reader one?

love you work <33

# HOGWARTS — slytherin!rafe who . . .

main masterlist | series masterlist

glances at you the first time during second year when you trip over your robes in the hallway and instead of laughing like his friends, he just keeps walking, but his gaze lingers half a second too long.

bumps into you on purpose one afternoon, knocking your bag to the ground, just to see if you’d cry or snap, and when you glare at him like you’re not scared at all, he grins for the first time in days.

scoffs when a professor partners him with you for a magical creatures project, muttering “great, a puff. this’ll be fun,” but still does every part of the work because he refuses to be outdone.

sends a jinx your way during third year dueling club, smirks when you fall, then just stares when you laugh and get right back up like you weren’t humiliated at all.

stays behind after class when you drop your quill and actually hands it back instead of kicking it like he used to. he doesn’t smile, but doesn’t look away from your eyes either.

starts watching you more during fourth year, arms crossed, jaw tight, trying to decide when exactly you stopped being annoying and started being interesting.

sighs dramatically when he’s paired with you again in potions but doesn’t argue this time, just lets you lead and mutters “guess you're not just sunshine and stupid after all.”

glares when you wave at him across the great hall, but still nods back.

tosses a sugar quill on your desk after snapping at you in front of the whole class, then walks off before you can thank him.

gets weirdly quiet in fifth year when someone calls you “just a puff” under their breath. he doesn’t say anything until after class when he meets that kid’s eyes and hexes their ink bottle to explode mid-essay.

starts sitting next to you in electives without being asked, and when someone points it out, he just shrugs like “we’ve partnered before. might as well.”

starts watching your quidditch matches, always near the back, arms crossed and scowl tight maybe, but he still never misses a game.

lets you wear his scarf during a snowy sixth year hogsmeade trip with a sigh, muttering “don’t stretch it out.”

fights with you in the courtyard after you catch him hexing someone again, and when you shove him, he grabs your wrist and kisses you, like he’s been waiting since second year.

doesn’t tell anyone about the kiss, but he doesn’t need to. everyone sees the way he stands beside you now.

still teases you in front of others, still rolls his eyes, still calls you “too soft,” but starts doing it while holding your hand under the table.

starts waiting for you outside your common room, hands in his pockets, pretending he’s “just walking by” even though it’s across the damn castle LMAO

pulls you aside before every quidditch match now, lifts your chin, says “don’t get distracted. and don’t die.”

listens when you talk about what you’ll do after hogwarts, doesn’t say his own plans, but quietly shifts his to be closer to yours.

says “you’re not allowed to fall in love with anyone else” on a late walk after curfew, and you realize it’s the closest he’s ever come to saying he loves you.

walks beside you on the last day of seventh year like it’s just another morning. he doesn’t kiss you goodbye just yet. he just says “you were the best thing i got out of this place.”

me when i write them a happy ending idc i dont wanna ruin them id probably cry

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @sukunasmuse @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms @issahruiz @ilovefictionallmenn @derpjungkook @vanessa-rafesgirl @sunny1616 @alphabetically-deranged @nrmlgirl @supercxnt @xoxosblogsblog @rafegetinmybed @siyahmoonlight @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @d-daxx @tsumudoll @ogcrashout @jjasmiineee @loverliner @ailimedae @belle101200 @hiimbrina @nomup @ayy1234567 @girxwrp @k4yr14 @amterasuu @theteenagementality @maggscr @hey-you22w @delilah22pbp @hayleynott @silkenthusiasts

[orellazalonia]

Hii, i have a request. I recently just started reading the shatter me series again - idk if you know it - but the main character has a lethal touch, every person she touches - but one man - dies if she touches them, and I was wondering if you could hse that concept but the only person reader can touch is Bucky Barnes. So like, the avengers find her at hydra, and she's settling in at the tower, and gets close with bucky, and then she accidentally touches him, but nothing happens. Idk if you understand this but i hope you do!<3

Hello there! I absolutely loved this idea, has so much potential for angst to be honest. It fits well into the Whispers of the Gifted series as well. So, thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy! Happy reading!!!

Safe in His Hands

Summary: After being rescued from Hydra, you struggle to adjust to life at the Avengers Tower, haunted by your lethal touch that kills anyone you make skin contact with until Bucky Barnes catches you, and nothing happens. (Bucky Barnes x reader)

Disclaimer: Reader has the power to end the life of anyone she touches. Mentions of death & labs/experimentation. Angst. Hurt/Comfort.

Word Count: 2.4k+

Main Masterlist | Whispers of the Gifted Masterlist

You were seven years old when you first killed someone.

It wasn’t on purpose. You were just a kid. Scared, hungry, and cold. They’d come into your holding room. One of the guards, you didn’t recognize him. He was probably new. He knelt in front of you and told you to stand. You didn’t, so he grabbed your arm.

He didn’t even scream. He just dropped, went limp, and his life was gone.

They ran so many tests after that. Hooked you to wires, sliced open skin, injected chemicals, brought in more test subjects. They wanted to understand you. Your blood. Your skin. Your curse.

Because all it took was one touch, skin to skin. A brush of fingers, a hand on a wrist, a graze of your palm against someone’s cheek all resulted in instant death. There were no explanations. No control. You were death in the shape of a human. And Hydra thought that made you useful.

So they kept you, caged you. Covered you in thick gloves, containment suits, and glass walls. “For your own safety,” They always said. But you knew better. It wasn’t about protecting you. It was about protecting everyone else from you.

You stopped speaking eventually. What was the point? Words couldn’t undo what your hands did.

But then, one night, everything exploded.

You didn’t know who they were at first. The power cut out and all you heard were screams and gunshots that echoed through the halls. You stayed in your corner, knees pulled to your chest, not daring to move. You knew better than to open the door anyways.

But someone else did.

Blinding light flooded your cell, and a figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted by sparks and smoke, a shield strapped to his back. Others moved behind him. You thought you saw a red glow and a flash of metal.

Then his eyes landed on you. You couldn’t move, didn’t breathe, just waited for the orders, the fear, the recoil.

But none came.

“Hey,” He said gently, crouching just enough to be eye-level. “You okay?”

You stared back, not answering.

Another stepped beside him. A man with brown hair and a metal arm, tense but watchful. “She’s not chained,” He murmured. “But look at the gloves. She’s not here by choice.”

“She’s scared,” A third voice said. Female, distant, but knowing. You felt her inside your head like a whisper. “But not of us.”

They didn’t grab you, didn’t drag you. Just offered a hand and waited. You didn’t take it, of course. But you stood slowly and followed.

You didn’t know who they were yet. But you did know one thing: They weren’t Hydra.

Days passed in a blur after that. You were moved to a new facility, high in the sky, full of windows and white light. They called it the Avengers Tower. They gave you a room, food, and clothes that didn’t itch. There were no cells and no experiments.

But still… no touch.

You kept the gloves on and never sat too close to anyone. You didn’t speak at first and they didn’t push. But you could feel the caution in the air, the curiosity. They didn’t know. No one did. And you didn’t want them to.

Because you knew what would happen. They’d lock you up again. Maybe not in a lab, but in some new kind of prison. For their safety and for yours.

So you kept your head down. Ate your meals in silence. Avoided the common room when too many people were there. You stayed quiet and small.

But he kept showing up. The one with the metal arm. Bucky.

He never asked questions. Never pried. Just… existed near you. Sat with you across the room. Passed you a glass of water. Nodded when you acknowledged him. Said goodnight sometimes, soft and gruff. You didn’t know why, but it didn’t scare you.

In fact, he was the only one who didn’t make you feel like glass. Like a threat. And soon, you weren’t avoiding him. You began waiting for him.

As time passed, you had just started feeling like a person again.

You still kept your gloves on, still flinched when someone got too close. But you were sleeping more. Eating with the others, sometimes. Sitting in the common room without being asked. And you were talking to Bucky. Really talking.

He had this quiet way of making you feel seen without shining a spotlight. He didn’t ask invasive questions or try to dig up your trauma like it was some kind of prize. He let you sit beside him in silence, let you borrow his books, or let you eat the cherry from his drink when you thought no one saw.

You’d started laughing again. Just a little, especially with him. Which is why it hurt when everything shifted again.

It happened on a late Tuesday morning. You’d just made tea, still in one of those oversized sweatshirts Pepper had given you, trailing quietly into the common room with your gloves on.

The team was already there. And the air felt thick. It was too quiet. No jokes. No arguing. No music playing in the background.

You paused near the doorway and noticed everyone’s behavior and body language. Steve was sitting stiffly. Natasha leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. Sam looked like he was trying not to look at you. Wanda and Bruce wouldn’t meet your gaze at all.

And then there was Tony. Standing in front of a projection screen, a file hovering behind him in holographic light.

Your file. Hydra’s file. You didn’t need to see the text to recognize the red lettering. The Hydra seal with your photo and warnings stamped across every page.

“Subject shows consistent and immediate lethality through direct epidermal contact.” “High fatality rate confirmed through controlled experimentation.” “Extreme caution advised. Gloves required at all times.”

The word “Thanatos” was printed in bold near the top. Your old title, the one they gave you, and the one you hated.

“Right,” Tony said, exhaling as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “So. Now that everyone’s caught up, I figured we should have the ‘Don’t-Touch-the-New-Girl-or-You’ll-Die’ talk.”

Your heart stopped. No one looked at you.

“Well, technically, she’ll still be the last one standing,” He added, more to himself. “Silver lining.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t know what to say as you just stood there. The tea cooling in the cup still in your hands. The weight of the scene before you sinking in your chest.

Natasha was the first to say anything, sighing. “Tony, seriously?”

“What? Did I lie?” He snapped. “You all needed to know.”

“Not like that,” Steve said, his jaw clenched. “She has a right to her privacy–“

“She has a death-touch!” Tony said, throwing a hand toward the screen. “If any of you brushed her arm on the way to the coffee machine, you'd be dead, Rogers! I’m not saying kick her out, I’m saying awareness matters!”

They argued. You didn’t hear most of it.

You turned around before anyone could stop you. Walked straight back down the hall, the sound of their voices fading behind you. You didn’t cry. You just felt cold. Like your skin didn’t belong to you anymore. Like you were back in that white room at Hydra, gloves stapled to your wrists.

You didn’t see Bucky in the room. But hours later, he found you sitting on the floor of your room, knees pulled up to your chest.

He knocked once before entering and sat down slowly across from you.

“They know,” You said flatly, not looking at him.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m not safe.” You swallowed. “Not for any of you.”

He didn’t respond right away. Then: “You’ve been safe the entire time I’ve known you.”

You looked at him then, really looked. “You didn’t read the file, did you?”

“No,” He said honestly. “I didn’t need to.”

You blinked. “Why not?”

He leaned forward slightly, eyes calm, and voice even. “Because I’ve seen the way you move through a room. I’ve seen how careful you are, how you never slip or let your guard down, not even by accident. You think I haven’t been watching? You think I don’t get it?”

He lifted his metal hand slowly, carefully.

“I’ve lived with hands that kill, too.”

Your throat closed.

“And for what it’s worth,” He said, his voice quieter now, “I want to be the one you trust to take that risk to be around.”

You couldn’t speak. Not yet.

But later that night, after everyone had gone quiet, you stepped into the kitchen and found him waiting. You sat beside him in silence.

Your gloved hand rested on the counter beside his. And even after everything… you didn’t pull away.

But then it happened three nights later.

You weren’t reckless. Not intentionally. You never were, but the compound was darker than usual. Backup generators hummed, and flickering lights made every corner look unfamiliar. You were alone in the library’s upper balcony, reaching for a book too far up. You thought you were alone and with the AC not working well, you had pushed your sleeves up for once.

You didn’t mean to fall. Because you never let yourself be careless. Never let yourself slip. Because you knew what happened when you did. Every part of your body was a loaded gun. Every uncovered inch of skin was a threat.

But you had reached too far and your footing gave way. You didn’t even scream. You just reached out, an instinct burned into your body since before you could remember, and then–

Hands caught you. Strong. Steady. One metal but one flesh. And you felt it, the bare skin on yours.

You froze. Air jammed in your lungs as panic rose fast.

“No–” You choked. “No no no no no– let go!”

You shoved him back hard. Harder than you meant to. You hit the floor on your side, gloves scattering across the room as your eyes went wild trying to find him.

But Bucky didn’t collapse.

He stumbled, yes. But he caught himself, and looked at you. Hands still open in the air where they’d caught your arms. Still alive.

Your vision tunneled. Breath stuttering, chest too tight to expand.

“You–” Your voice broke like glass. “I touched you–“

“I know.”

He said it too calmly. Like he didn’t understand the weight of what just happened. Like he hadn’t just died.

“I didn’t mean to–I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking, I wasn’t–“ You curled in on yourself, dragging your sleeves back down over your hands, trying to find air in a room that had too much of it. “I don’t want you to die–I always kill them–“

“Hey.” His voice was closer, lower and solid. “You didn’t kill me.”

You shook your head violently, barely hearing him. Your hands were trembling so hard it hurt. Your whole body buzzed with panic. Your mind raced ahead to things that hadn’t happened. Memories of bodies falling, the smell of burned skin, the lifeless weight of people you'd only brushed.

“Look at me,” Bucky said again, firm this time. “Look at me.”

You did.

He was knelt in front of you, not touching you now, but not afraid either. Still breathing. Still alive.

“Nothing happened,” He said, slower this time. “You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t even make me dizzy.”

“I’ve never…” You voice cracked. “No one ever survives it.”

“I did.”

You stared at him, unable to believe it. Skin still crawling like you were seconds away from watching his eyes go blank, his heart stutter and stop.

But he stayed there, breathing evenly, watching you with calm in his storm-blue eyes.

“I don’t know why,” He said, not trying to sugarcoat it. “But you can touch me.”

And somehow, that was the thing that finally broke you. Not the fear. Not the guilt. Not the flashbacks.

Hope.

Because if there was one person in the world you could touch… then maybe you weren’t a monster after all. And that was almost harder to believe.

You didn’t move for a long time and neither did Bucky. He stayed close but not too close. Never crossed the line, never reached out. He just waited. Like he knew you were still one breath away from bolting down the hall.

But he did shift just slightly. “You don’t have to talk,” He said quietly. “Not yet, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Your voice was raw when you answered: “It’s not supposed to be possible.”

He said nothing.

“I’ve killed people for less,” You whispered. “Brushed their wrist, bumped a shoulder. They all…”

The words fractured. Your breath hitched too hard to finish. And still, he didn’t speak. Not in that moment.

But then he exhaled slowly. “They did that to me, too, you know,” He said. “Hydra. Taught me my hands could only cause hurt. That I wasn’t allowed to have anything good, not without ruining it.”

Your gaze flicked toward him, blurry and sharp at once. He looked tired. Not pitiful, not fragile–just… weathered. Like he understood.

“I got used to keeping distance,” He went on, gaze softening. “Figured I didn’t deserve closeness anymore.”

Something tight pulled in your heart.

“I never thought I’d be the one someone like you was scared to hurt.”

Your throat tightened. “That’s not what this is.”

He tilted his head. “No?”

You looked away, unable to meet the weight in his eyes. “I wasn’t scared of hurting you,” You admitted, voice quieter now. “I knew I would.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy. It wasn’t judgment. It was understanding. The kind you’d only felt a few times in your life, and never like this.

Eventually, you managed to crawl forward, slowly, moving with the hesitance of someone reaching across a minefield. Bucky stayed perfectly still, not guiding, not pushing.

You reached for his hand. Skin to skin. And still… nothing.

No death. No pain. Just warmth.

You let out a shaky breath.

“I’ve never touched anyone like this,” You admitted, more to yourself than him. “Without hurting them.”

Bucky’s fingers curled gently around yours.

“You’re not hurting me,” He said. “You never have.”

The sob built in your throat before you could stop it. Ugly, sudden, and sharp. Bucky didn’t flinch. Just waited, fingers still gently holding yours. Like it wasn’t dangerous. Like it was normal.

Like maybe, for once, you were allowed to be human. And for the first time since the day Hydra named you a weapon, you believed that might be true.

[mitchelimarns]

wait i saw ur trevorjamie? post and i am INTRIGUED what is that?? who are they? what is the backstory? please enlighten me??

hi op!! thank you for asking this question that i am Completely Normal about it. sending this ask is like asking the Cocaine Guy for some cocaine. of course i have some! now come take my hand and engage in ethically gray fandom practises with me. warning: this is going to be overly long (it is actually so long, i'm SO sorry). you might feel like i am actually a Cocaine Guy at some points because of the euphoria you will achieve (or because of how insane you might think i am). another warning: 99% of this based in fact and the other 1% is based in that beautiful gay area between fact and fiction.

trevorjamie is the hockey rpf ship between former (!!) anaheim ducks and now current (!!) philadelphia flyers forward trevor zegras, (drafted 9th overall in 2019) and former anaheim ducks and current philadelphia flyers defenseman jamie drysdale (drafted 7th overall in 2020)

an aside on trevor zegras

before we go into the backstory, i think the key to understanding the appeal of trevorjamie is to understand the appeal of trevor zegras. when i say appeal, three reasons come to mind:

his career can, as of right now, be divided into two parts: Trevor Zegras, Wonder Kid and Trevor Zegras, Wasted Potential. trevor the wonderkid spans his his first two (and a half if you count 20-21) seasons: back-to-back 60+ points (that's Really Good for a rookie/young player). finishes second in the rookie of the year voting. also appears on the 2023 NHL EA video game cover, which is A Big Deal, especially for such a young player. even makes a guest appearance at the 2022 NHL All-Star Game where he scores a goal blindfolded in the ugliest red and yellow get-up i've ever seen while NHL team mascots pelt him with dodgeballs (no, i am not making this up.) here's the video. throughout his first two years, he makes insane plays, including multiple michigans (a lacrosse style move that's really hard to land in hockey, much less NHL-level hockey). here's a webweave about trevor and Hockey that i think about Every Day. here's a video of his frankly mind-boggling highlights from his first two years. here's another. here's a webweave with quotes on how talented he is. from 2021 till 2023, trevor zegras is, for all intents and purposes, the young, sexy and talented face of the nhl. Trevor Zegras, Wasted Potential starts after he injures his ankle in 2024 and his goals/assists production falls off majorly for the next two years (we shall go more into why & how of Trevor Zegras, Wasted Potential later.) but either way, his hockey is always in the spotlight for being creative and unique.

the second reason is his personality. nhl players are notoriously criticized for being boring "robots" with no emotion and so when trevor zegras, the Lover Boy who wears his heart on his sleeve comes along, people are captivated by how open and genuine he is. he’s like that frat boy who was always admired and never loved. here's a post about a coach talking about how much trevor talks. here's a youtube compilation of his interviews (very old but it's all i could find). fun facts: he once tried to pick a fight with sidney crosby, probably the Most Respected hockey player on earth. he dated dixie d'amelio for a bit. he went to the 2022 & 2023 montreal grand prix (and repped mclaren with his nhl friends!) his instagram username is 'Z' and he posts like an influencer. in conclusion: he's just a twink tiktoker and tattooed greek man from the suburbs of new york who is occasionally Haunted By The Demons. and we love him for that!

the third and final reason that i personally love him is because he is a part of the 2019 U.S. National Team Development Program draft class (the 2001s.) the USNTDP was started as a junior program for elite highschool hockey players across the US, meant to foster team-bonding between american players from a young age and also give them a taste of the pro-life before the NHL that isn't college hockey or a foreign minor league. it is famous in the hockey rpf fandom for spawning some of the most codependent homoerotic friendships, from dylan larkin & zach werenski to will smith, ryan leonard & gabe perrault and of course, trevor zegras and his friends: jack hughes, cole caufield, alex turcotte, etc. the reason that this particular group/USNTDP class is so famous is because they are soo co-dependent that jack hughes (and his brothers who are also elite NHL players, luke & quinn hughes (quinn has the funniest beef with trevor)) bought a lakehouse in michigan (where the program is located) so that the boys can summer there every off-season. the lakehouse has now expanded to include a revolving door of The Hughes Friends, including umich (luke & quinn hughes' alma mater) & other college hockey players. this has, of course, spanned many fics across many ships and is an integral part of The Lore. the lore behind cole, jack and trevor's friendship is also insane (please peruse @/whirlpool-blog’s jhtz tag), but that's a problem for another day (if it intrigues you, have a scroll through the usntdp tag generally too). but yes, the dynamic between trevor & his friends is another fan favourite, with countless interviews and instagram #moments, if only because all rpfers yearn for one direction. (jack is zayn, trevor is harry and cole is niall. no i don't take constructive criticism).

tldr: trevor zegras is a loud, controversial, talented and loved player. now, in my opinion jamie drysdale - in contrast - is quiet, sweet and soft-spoken, aggressively canadian, a guitar player who also likes to cook and hates mornings. however, there are other takes out there like this one that beg to differ and make for an even more interesting dynamic. either way, together, they compliment each other. one is Insane and the other is So Nonchalant. we must fundamentally understand that to understand the appeal of trevorjamie.

now onto the actual question: the trevorjamie backstory.

now before we begin, i have taken a lot of help from the wonderful primers of @/somewhatinvested, linked here. i highly recommend a scroll through their blog, (esp their tzjd lore tag) as well as @/whirlpool-blogs, @/teex, @/bliksemflitsenblog, @/f1vegas, @/sergeifyodorov and @/zeegras because i am but an amateur and they are phd experts conducting their second thesis.

but here's my take, which includes Recent Happenings A.K.A. trevor is traded to philly A.K.A. the greatest moment of my life A.K.A. yaoi always wins.

the beginning: 2020-2021 season

even though they were drafted in 2019 and 2020 respectively, trevor and jamie first actually met when they played against each other in the 2021 world junior championships (which is A Big Deal for young hockey prospects) where trevor (who played for the US) was spotlighted for two reasons:

winning MVP of the tournament, after leading the tournament in scoring (and actually tying the all-time US world junior record)

making the most cocky comments, including saying this about the canadian team: "i don't think they've been tested by a real time yet.” right before the highly anticipated US-canada final.

jamie plays for the canadian team. the usa won the final. trevor had 2 goals and 1 assist in the final. jamie was, understandably, Pissed. now this was A Problem because they are going to be teammates and are also flying to anaheim together on the same plane (along with other californian prospects but that's irrelevant.) jamie allegedly did not want to talk to trevor at all on the flight. trevor forced them to make amends over chick-fil-a after. hence began the most epic enemies-to-roommates-to-lovers arc in 2021 as they roomed together in a hotel in irvine. they spend this time mostly playing for the minor league affiliate of the ducks, the gulls (if you do not know what a minor league is, think gulls is the f2 team of the ducks, an f1 team).

throughout the (shortened) 2020-21 season, they bounce back & forth between the ducks and the gulls. the whole time, they stay together in a hotel in irvine (along with two other prospects) even though they only overlap for 13 NHL games over the course of the 2020-21 season (they are called up at different times to the ducks). one of their other roommates, perrault, says that the two of them were the closest between the four roommates. when trevor is first called up to the NHL, he wears the suit that jamie wore to their US-canada final game (insane). despite playing only 13 NHL games together, they score their first NHL goals in the same game (jamie's first NHL game), only minutes apart (breaking the record for the closest NHL debut goals). jamie has a secondary assist on trevor's first goal. jamie is interviewed after the game and says that "it was a good night for our household." the photo of them celebrating trevor’s first goal is re-created by a fan. the painting is later hung in their shared apartment by trevor. they wear matching rose pins on the anniversary of their first goals a year later. #gay

jamie Panics: 2021-2022 season

when the new season starts in 21-22, trevorjamie have established themselves. they are ready to move on from the land of Hotel Nomads and Buy A House. trevor said that he assumed jamie and him were going to live together. however, jamie is asked by an older teammate to live with him and says yes. i wonder Why.

trevor ends up first living with two other teammates for a week and then later moves in with cole york, the older brother of one of USNTDP cult bros, cam york (remember the name because it will come up later). during this time, trevor adopts a lizard. no, i am not joking. i can only imagine the Yearning reached catastrophic levels. HOWEVER! the Hockey Gods intervene and jamie's roommate is traded halfway through the season. it is confirmed that trevor moved in with jamie at the end the season. #lovewins

the 2022 offseason is incredibly famous because of the troy terry (one of their teammate)'s wedding, where we had some prime trevorjamie moments. see @/somewhatinvested's primer. take particular notice of this photo, allegedly taken after the wedding when they are both hungover in a ski-lift in aspen:

boyfriends: 2022-2023 season

2022-2023 is notable because yes, trevor & jamie live together in an apartment (yes, that apartment where trevor hangs the fan painting of their celebration). but also because jamie gets injured after playing only eight games and instead of going home back to canada, like a normal player would, he stays with trevor in anaheim. for the rest of the season (a solid five months). truly insane. this gives us some amazing Domestic content, such as jamie cooking for them both, jamie playing the guitar for trevor, watching sunsets together on the rooftop connected to their apartment (including jamie allegedly taking the most romantic sunset trevor photos), cuddling on valentine's day together and of course, the infamous shared rooftop playlist (preluded by the apple music JamieTrevor playlist), which trevor and jamie both confirmed they listen to while watching the sunset together. some of the music in this playlist is truly insane. (side note: i highly recommend checking out jamie's spotify (it's actually his mom's spotify) playlist "California" because it is. insane. listening to those 11 songs with the implications of trevorjamie is a Crazy experience. also jamie has only added like 13-15 songs to the “Rooftop”playlist and the summer trevor got a girlfriend he removed “Lover” by Taylor Swift and added it to his “California” playlist. god they make me unhinged)

in the 2023 offseason, trevor, jamie and USNTDP buddy cam york (there he is again!) go to stagecoach together. trevor and jamie are, predictably, weird about each other. trevor sets up him and jamie up with two models. stuff gets messy. here's a primer. here's more lore about trevorjamie being weird about their girlfriends. here, i put my rpf goggles to speculate that perhaps trevor Panicked this time.

the horrible, very bad, no good trade: 2023-2024 season

in 2023-24, they are not living together. maybe stagecoach has something to do with it, maybe it doesn't. either way, 2023 continues to give us content, such as trevor posting a photo of jamie with a winky face emoji after Contentious Contract Negotiations and dedicating his michigan goal to jamie.

but then on january 8th, the news breaks that jamie drysdale has been traded to the philadelphia flyers.

now, this is shocking because both trevor and jamie are good players: they're high draft picks who are faces of the franchise, touted as part of the ducks' rebuilding core and they just signed contract extensions. but it is even more shocking to trevor zegras, who is going to be separated from His Guy.

now hockey trades are famous for Being Chaotic but this was next-level: the ducks were on a week-long roadtrip, preparing for a game against nashville. trevor and jamie were allegedly together in a dive bar in nashville when jamie got the call. jamie's mind "was in a daze." he flew out of nashville at 5:45 a.m. trevor allegedly reached out to his USNTDP bro on the flyers, cam york (there he is again again!) to connect with jamie. jamie moves in with cam york (!) and another teammate. he picks #9 to play with the flyers, the same number trevor wore on the US world juniors team. which could mean nothing.

the day after the trade, trevor is supposed to be interviewed before the nashville game but allegedly refuses. a rinkside reporter stated that "trevor is the person who will miss jamie the most..was visibly glum... was his very best friend... I don't think he has fully processed it this morning...he said it doesn't feel real yet...they're going through it, they're going to remain close friends for the rest of their lives." trevor is uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole ordeal: no goodbye post, not even a story. later on, he states that him and jamie "peed together, got injured together, slept together," which goes viral. trevor likes a post of the quote.

in his first shift in his first game after jamie leaves (which is also trevor's 200th NHL game), trevor immediately breaks his ankle and is helped off the ice. he misses the rest of the season. he later says that the injury hurts less than the trade.

jamie's first game is flyers' pride night. afterwards, trevor likes the flyers post of the game and reposts it, with the same winky face emoji that he used when jamie got resigned to the ducks. here's screenshots of the two stories (the second one is the flyers story. yes that’s jamie wearing a dog mask. no, don’t ask.)

danny briere, fujoshi extraordinaire: 2024-2025 season

now before we move on to recent events, we must go back to trevor. specifically, Trevor Zegras, Wasted Potential. so i mentioned that after the ankle injury in 2024 (the one he got immediately after jamie was traded), trevor’s goals and offensive production drops massively. his name comes up in trade rumours throughout 2024 and 2025, including a trade to the flyers. critics point to his defensive game as a back-end liability. people say he takes shifts off and takes games off, which basically mean he plays with no heart. they say he’s rude and disrespectful in his chirps. he hardly celebrates after goals anymore. people say he's lazy and overconfident, all flash and no substance, too scrawny to play in the league and annoyingly talkative to top it off.

all of this stems from many reasons, including his head coach, greg cronin, having an old-school style of hockey that encourages "grit" and none of the showboating and puck handling trevor is good at and loves. during this time, the ducks general manager pat verbeek (trevorjamie fandom’s Resident Evil Man) moves trevor from his natural, life long position of centre to right wing, which is another factor in his dropping production. gone are the days of trevor zegras, all-star rookie. people call him washed up and a draft bust. rpfers say he is broken-hearted.

this is worsened when he, just starting to find his groove and show flashes of defensive capability in 24-25, suffers a torn meniscus and has to undergo surgery for six weeks, missing majority of this season. when he comes back, he violates player safety rules despite and is suspended for six games. in first game after the suspension, he immediately tries to fight someone (which he never does) and loses very badly.

in contrast, jamie is thriving. he is maturing and growing defensively, he buys his own house in downtown philly, he hard launches his long distance gf (the one who trevor introduced him to at stagecoach) and spends his time with his philly best friend, cam york (the one who trevor introduced him to). during this time, jamie hardly mentions trevor, except for a flyers social media video where he says the most famous person on his phone is trevor zegras (full government name).

him and trevor also allegedly have dinner together after a ducks-flyers game in philly in 2025. trevor did not play in the game due to his injuries but still waited outside the flyers locker room “quietly and patiently” and later said the dinner was like “jamie never left.” fun fact (said with the air of a Crazy Person): due to trevor’s injuries and the distance between the two teams (they are in separate conferences), trevor has actually never played an NHL game against jamie.

that brings us to today, when trevorjamie fans across the world collectively lost their minds when it was announced that the flyers had acquired trevor zegras.

trevor's only public acknowledgement about the trade (besides liking a bunch of posts) is this photo of him & jamie posted to his instagram, no caption and no acknowledgment to his other buddies on the team such as cam york (there he is again again again again!). nope, trevor needs everyone to know that this trade is about His Guy and His Guy Only.

you may notice some similarities to a certain pic on a ski lift in aspen. but whilst they were Just Bros in that one, they are definitely Not Bros in this one. just the semantics of taking a pic from two years ago, when we know trevor has pics of him, jamie and cam york at stagecoach... oh trevor zegras, you are the biggest idgaf war loser.

besides this photo, trevor also did a virtual press conference (video here) and went on a local philly podcast. jamie has only liked the post saying goodbye to the teammate that they traded for trevor and no posts related to trevor at all. he has also not posted anything on instagram.

but that doesn't matter because trevor zegras is So Back, baby. he will be playing under #46, the number he used to play on the gulls (he used #11 on the ducks). he is free of his Demons (the #11, pat verbeek and playing right wing). he is going to the land of brotherly love, matvei michkov (known for doing michigans, trevor's MoveTM) and travis konecny (known for being a yapper like trevor).

so where does this leave us now? well, both jamie and trevor will be playing the next season together (!!!!!!!). hopefully, we shall see trevor have a breakout year, a la dylan storme. both of them will be on the last year of the 3-year contracts they originally signed with the ducks. we don't know if either will resign with philly. but one thing can be sure: they will definitely, definitely Be Weird About It.

TLDR: trevor and jamie are insane about each other. i am insane about them. come join us!

if you've made it to the end, congratulations! i hope this enlightened you! if you have more questions (either about trevorjamie or anything else mentioned here), my ask box is always open! have a great day!!

[lovelake]

JUST PATHETIC AT THIS POINT

In which you ask your stalker (Kylar) to milk you after weeks of getting no relief

m!kylar x gn!reader | mdni, 2.2k wc, lactation (bovine tf!reader), nipple play, dry humping, stalking, kylar has kidnapped reader before (references to his abduction event), implied/referenced sexual assault

note: i love this freak

read on ao3

Translucent white—your bathwater was no longer clear. Frequent puffs of breath managed to fog up the mirror. Your hands were too tired to continue, but your chest was still full to the point it was downright painful.

How long have you been here for? Your room was out of the question when it came to doing this since it would make too much of a mess. This way, you could just watch it all go down the drain and be left squeaky clean.

You couldn’t go on like this, you needed relief. You were desperate.

So desperate, that your mind went to the person who would usually be the last solution to your problems. Surely, he would be more than eager to please.

Yeah, the classmate you’ve pushed away time and time again. The guy whose manor you escaped from—and who you should probably have a restraining order against by now (not like those would even be maintained in a town like this).

Kylar.

You reach for the drain to let the water start going down and get out the tub to dry up and get dressed. If you let the idea marinate, you would throw it in the trash.

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this, you think to yourself when you finally exit.

“Hey, stop hogging up the restroom! This is the third time this week!”

“Shit, sorry.” You cast your orphan hall mate an apologetic smile. “Won’t happen again.”

It probably will happen again.

You never thought you’d be willingly walking to Kylar’s place, but here you were. You kicked at rocks as you walked, ignoring the occasional catcalls thrown your way—your thoughts silenced them.

Fuck Remy. Fuck his goons. Fuck Harper. Bless the centaurs—they were the only ones you wished prosperity upon, but they weren’t enough to make you want to return.

Oh, but the imagery of lush green hills and cloudless skies called out to your soul. The dribbles of sweetness that rolled down your chin from the occasional apples you chose not to share remained unrivaled. Headpats and praises were handed to you every time you were good.

No!

You shook your head and tried not to fall for the deception that was forcibly drilled into your head. Collar. Riding crop. Hypnosis. Shadows looming over you when you woke up. It was terrible.

Danube street was cleaner than the one you lived on, and just a tad bit safer (not much at all, though). The houses were nicer to look at despite the envy that built up inside you. Eventually, you find a worn down path and make your way toward the forest.

His parents must be really rich. Last time you hadn’t had the time to pay attention to just how big the manor was, you were too busy escaping to care.

It gave you the creeps—it looked like it could be the main setting in a horror movie.

You heard the rustling of nearby bushes. Seconds later, you heard a series of doors slam shut. Looking up, you saw a curtain sway before quickly falling back into place.

Ah. Looks like Kylar had been stalking you as you walked to his place. Frankly, you weren’t in the mood to lecture him.

He left the front door open, what a gentleman—you didn’t even have to knock. You let yourself in, nearly tripping over some vines on the floor.

“Jesus…”

Finding his room wasn’t hard at all, not with the fast-paced footsteps you heard above you to your left. Each stair creaked as you went up, you held onto the railing just in case.

He visibly flinched when his door swung open, reclining back on his desktop chair and trying to act normal—like his hair wasn’t ruffled with leaves on top of it, like he wasn’t out of breath from trying to beat you to his room.

“Sorry for the mess…I wasn’t expecting company.”

You weren’t really here for small talk though.

“Kylar…I need you to help me.” You walk up to him and tug at his hoodie, leading him off his chair and to his bed. You didn’t have to pull him strongly at all, he was always ready to be dragged around by you like a doll whenever you pleased.

“What?! Now?” He stopped listening after the first four words. Had you forgiven him for betraying your trust? Were you coming to your senses and realizing that you belonged with him?

Kylar obediently sat on his bed, dick already hard as you straddled his lap. He almost felt like running because of the long-awaited anticipation—he wanted to touch you, badly. And you came here willingly.

He started rambling. “W-What positions do you like? Do you want me to put on some music? I have some lube in my drawer! If you’re still mad at me you can put a leash on me or use my knife!”

“What?” Oh. Right. You straddled him, this gave him the wrong idea. “Nonono, I meant something…else.”

Disappointed flashed across his face, but he nodded, not wanting to upset you anymore than he already had in the past months. This was progress, maybe you’d start liking him.

Fuck. You didn’t really think about how you’d actually bring it up. You felt a bit embarrassed for some reason—which is ridiculous considering that this guy is fucked up in the head for you.

“I um…I need you to milk me.” You tell him, voice quiet.

His face flushed, he blinked a couple times as he processed what you said. Your horns and fluffy ears had his attention, back and forth. He then felt something swish against his thighs—your tail.

“So…they’re actually real? I always thought you were just cosplaying or something.”

���Don’t act so surprised, I’m sure you already caught on by now anyway.” How could he be unaware when he practically knew everything about you through creepy methods?

“I-I…” He looks down at his sheets, idly picking at them. “I didn’t know about this, I swear.”

Ever since you got rid of the owl plushie in your room, he had been watching you directly from your window. But he had never noticed your predicament, because unbeknownst to him, you’d only been milking yourself in the restroom.

“Is that why…” He murmured to himself, thinking of the shirts he had stolen from you and how some occasionally carried a sweet smell (that didn’t align with any of your fragrances—he would know). “Never mind.”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes or no?” He copied your question out of confusion, head cocked to the side.

God, he was cute despite everything he’d subjected you to and it pissed you off.

“Will you help me?”

“Yes!” The answer slipped out naturally and all too eagerly—he was visibly shaking with excitement.

Fabric rustled, you started taking your top off.

He averted his eyes and gulped—he would drool otherwise.

“Now you’re too shy to look?” You ask with a scoff. “You didn’t seem to care when you had me naked and chained up.”

He squeaks in response, wide eyes flitting to yours before softening and trailing down to your chest. Your nipples were hard—his were too underneath his shirt, but solely from arousal unlike yours.

“A-Are you still mad at me?” His voice trembled, he didn’t want you to be upset. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I am,” you admitted quietly. “I can’t forgive you. Maybe you can start redeeming yourself, though.”

He nodded, willing to do anything for you to no longer ignore his existence. Things had been somewhat okay before he kidnapped you—you’d talk to him at lunch sometimes and would approach him at the park.

Everything would go back to normal eventually, right?

He took a deep breath before placing his hands on your chest. The warmth of your skin transferred to him and lit his face up in flames.

“Like this?” Milk started to trickle once he tweaked your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs.

“You can add more pressure,” you tell him, able to feel that he was holding back—maybe from the fear of hurting you (which was ironic for reasons you wouldn’t bring up again).

“Okay.”

This isn’t weird at all, you internally repeated that like a mantra. You shut your eyes, not wanting to see the blush on his face or the look of worship in his intense gaze.

“I was thinking breast pumps could help.” You voiced your thoughts, wanting to detach from what was actually happening—the tingling feeling building inside you wasn’t helping. “But um…I don’t like the doctor at the hospital.”

“Mm,” he was listening, but was more transfixed on the way your milk rolled down your stomach. Kylar’s mouth watered, he had half the mind to dip his head down and lick you clean.

“Was thinking maybe Sirris would have something to help, but his store isn’t open yet and I’m too ashamed to ask if he’s gotten any packages.”

Your breathing gradually grew heavier. You were turned on, much to your demise. How could you not be when your nipples were getting tugged at and pinched? Plus, it was really hard to ignore the bulge pressed up against your right inner thigh.

Don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes.

But you did—and they were met with the sight of Kylar’s bottom lip tucked between his teeth, he was drooling a little regardless. When he noticed you staring, he let go.

“Can I use my mouth?” His words were slurred together.

God, yes. You weren’t thinking properly. You nodded, cradling the back of his head and pressing his face close to your chest.

His tongue flicked against your nipple before he latched onto it to provide actual suction. Your other one didn’t go neglected and was still being played with by his fingers. Pleased whimpers filled the room, mostly from him as he drank greedily from you.

“That feels good…” Your lower abdomen was heating up.

“Mmph,” Kylar liked the praise—now sucking at you with renewed determination. Somewhere along the way, his hips started rutting up against yours.

“It’s…” He pulled away with a pop and took a deep breath, “sweet.”

He positioned himself in front of your other nipple to give it the same treatment. How would he ever go back to drinking regular milk after this? Yours was addictive like candy, the taste would linger in his dreams for the rest of his life. He lost count of how many times he’s gulped.

You felt some relief for the first time in weeks, your chest was less heavy. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling on it gently. Your hips started moving too. Clouds, you were in the clouds. It didn’t matter that you were panting erratically and moaning from the touch of your stalker and were close to cumming and—

“Ow, teeth!”

“S-Sorry!” Kylar yelped, pulling away immediately and checking up on you, tears brimming at the edge of his eyes from concern. “I didn’t mean to, are you okay? I got carried away.”

You shouldn’t want to, but you really wanted to kiss him. Glazed eyes, messy chin from fluids, the dick rubbing up against you. Fuck, the need was making you lose yourself.

Your lips smashed against his—you could taste your milk.

Kylar pawed at you, hands running up and down your sides before reaching back to cup your ass. Kisses aren’t meant to be quiet by any means, but he was really kicking it up a notch by whimpering loudly into your mouth.

“I-I’m gonna…”

“Me too.”

You tried to match the pace of his hips but it was no use, he was unpredictable, the two of you were an uncoordinated mess. There was nothing sensual about it, just pure desire. The friction sent sparks flying everywhere until you saw stars.

Shockwaves of pleasure left you writhing in his arms, you held onto him tight, nails digging into his shoulders—he moaned even louder from the rough treatment. The top of his shirt was soaked from the leakage of your milk (he was never going to wash this shirt ever again).

He felt like jelly. His body fell back but he managed to keep himself upright with his forearms until you toppled over him and pushed him flat on his back.

An ache formed in his chest, Kylar was fully prepared for you to immediately get off and leave.

But you didn’t. You snuggled closer to him instead. Your horns gently rubbed against his right shoulder over and over again.

Heavy breathing filled the room for a minute before he hesitantly raised his hand to stroke the back of your head. “How did this happen to you?”

Silence was your answer. He frowned but didn’t push it—he figured it had something to do with that one week where you’d gone missing.

“I’ll kill whoever did this one day,” he whispered to you, planting a kiss against one of your ears.

You shivered, was that supposed to be romantic?

“Thanks for helping me with this.” Forgiveness still wasn’t in store for him, but you were still grateful. “I should go.”

He held onto your arm as you got up, staring at you pleadingly—but you could recognize the glint of obsession seeping through, Kylar wouldn’t be leaving you alone anytime soon after this.

“I’ll be back. Probably.”

He didn’t let go.

“Fuck…next week?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

[couch-potato28]

GAME NIGHT WITH THE NEL TEAMS!

(a/n: credit to @hizuchigaogao on X for the gorgeous art to the right—ubers part)

BASTARD MÜNCHEN: UNO

•This was doomed from the start. anyway—

•Prepare for a loooong night ‘cause nobody is going home until Kaiser has beaten everyone at least once

•Which actually never happens ‘cause he absolutely sucks at this game, and gets destroyed within the first 10 minutes with Isagi or Hiori being either winner

•Talking about Isagi, he clearly has an advantage from all the time his family has played this game. Does NOT have mercy on anyone, and he always asks for colors that nobody has

•Hiori is probably the only one actually paying attention to whose turn it is, and he’s the one in charge of shuffling and dealing the cards. Wins half of the game without even trying

•Kiyora somehow gets himself into the top 3 EVERY. SINGLE. TIME—his competitive ass is working extra hard at manifesting the best cards. Frequently uses the reverse ones with a smirk

•Ness is only there as emotional support for Kaiser. He plays a round or two then gives up before his duty turns into trying to help the blonde win with both of them failing at every attempt. Tries to secretly make Kaiser’s cards disappear like a magician (does not work and gets banned for the next round)

•Kurona is silent while observing the chaos around him. (Isagi supporter number 2) Half of his cards have the same number while the other half basically consists of every single action card in the deck

•Raichi is STRESSED. Probably not the best suited for this game cause poor guy always gets skipped for a round or two. Tries to take a sneak peak at Gagamaru’s cards, earning himself a kick to the ribs.

•Then there’s Yukimiya who stores his pick up 4s and 2s, ALWAYS using them last minute, making everyone groan when he doesn’t let them leave the round. He’s also the one to point out if someone hasn’t said UNO during their last card in an erm actually kind of style 🤓☝️

•Kunigami did NOT want to participate in game night but was forced to cause why not? It would be fun they said—to be frank it was not, or at least for him after every time it was his turn to play, the boys would stare at him in horror like he would punch them or something—(maybe or maybe not). Great player tho thanks to his sisters :)

•Look out for Gagamaru cause he will unintentionally or not make you pick up 12 cards at once. Barely knows the rules yet he’s never the last one to lose. No clue how he does it, just be careful—

•Since when does Noel Noa know how to play card games, and why is he currently sitting in a circle of young boys, carefully calculating which one is the best to place down next? Most importantly….why is he so good at it?

•“This game is stupid.”

•“You’re stupid.”

PARIS X GEN: JENGA

•If choosing the worst game to play with Shidou and Rin had an award then Karasu would be the winner

•Okay, hear him out, he thought it was a good idea to gather a bunch of teenage boys to play together for the sake of bonding—even Loki approved :(

•THE WHOLE GAME IS A MESS

•Shidou is a menace to society, and overall to anyone who’s playing cause he will intentionally push them. NOT afraid to push a jenga block into someone’s eye—he’s also surprisingly talented at this, always waiting for (or causing) others to screw up so he can win

•All while Rin is just naturally good at this, never missing a block while he tells the pink haired to shut up, focusing on keeping the tower stable. Has enough of Shidou after the third round, and kicks the whole tower down—(kinda familiar, anyone?)

•Charles is menace number 2—basically there to witness the drama between Ryusei and Rin, happily laughing his ass off during their arguments. Once he’s locked in tho, nobody will be able to win

•You know who’s the victim of these three? My baby Nanase. He’s the one assembling the tower, helping to pick up pieces that were thrown away by anger, explaining to Zantetsu the very simple rules, and worst of all—being a victim to Shidou’s harassment simply because he tried to help the younger Itoshi out ONE TIME

•Then there’s Karasu, the megamind of all. He’s stressed, fed up, done with his life—lowkey enjoys the drama. Probably the only one with the purpose of team bonding, and actually playing. Always misses the blocks by a millimeter, and is told to shut up by everyone when he says he wants to play in teams #justiceforcrowheadedking

•Okay Zantetsu is just confused—he knows Nijiro is trying his best but wdym he can’t just take out a whole level?

•Tokimitsu is anxious to the core. Everyone is such a meanie to the other, they already made him lose for the fifth time now, simply because they’re impatient. He considers that next time he might just stay in his room, and skip game night all together. Somebody help him—

•Okay final boss Loki enters the chat—he’s the type to start from the bottom with a go big or go home mindset making the others pissed when the whole tower is standing on one singular block thanks to him :) always helps to rebuild the tower tho

FC BARCHA: TWISTER

•Hahaha…you chose the right boys for this one. A fierce competition is going on between Otoya, Bachira and surprisingly their coach, Lavinho

•The rest of the team is just there to witness who comes out as the champion of the game night

•Bachira who starts off strong, his flexibility giving him a clear advantage. Always steps onto the wrong color yet he doesn’t even break a sweat when he’s told to raise his leg into the air for MINUTES

•Ofc the yellow head is great at this but Otoya is also damn good at making sure his leg never touches certain colored dots. Tries to cheat by resting when the others are not looking—lowk somehow manages to get away with it

•Coach is still in shape as everyone chants, watching Lavinho do one-hand stands and shit as he’s clearly enjoying the game

•This trio is not joking—everyone is going strong, staying in the weirdest, most uncomfortable and physically impossible (or not) positions known to mankind

•2 rounds in and Meguru already ends up with his bottom elevated, buttocks near the face of one of his teammates—only to release a dangerously stinky gas minutes later when someone makes a joke causing the other to stay in time out for the rest of the night

•Meanwhile Otoya’s getting kinda tired from having to hold one of his arms up while standing on one leg—but he can’t disappoint his ninja ancestors so he just continues to suffer in silence

•The ones who volunteered to give up have already bought some snacks and drinks, peacefully watching the last three person struggle

•After what feels like an eternity, bee boy and green onion telepathically agreed on teaming up against their mentor, whispering that at least one of them should win against the older man who’s still isn’t tired, and is CLEARLY not going to back out any time soon

•That’s how both of them in hopes to break Lavinho’s spirit—basically start to roast him with saying things like:

•”Doesn’t your back hurt?” “How old are you again, coach?” “I think I heard a crack somewhere—“

MANSHINE CITY: JUST DANCE

•Surprised or not this was Nagi’s idea to begin with. He suggested to play a few rounds, saying how fun is the most fundamental part of getting to know each other better and—okay, actually he just wished to be excluded from program, with the attempt of distracting the others with the game

•The rules were easy: dance to a song, and whoever gets the most points earns themselves a ‘free, no training today’ ticket signed by Chris Prince himself (he didn’t know about this)

•Nagi who’s still not convinced to join but when his plan of lazing around backfires—and after 20 minutes of constant persuasion by the whole team and mostly Reo, he willingly goes first, shaking his hips to Shakira, earning those extra points to the ticket

•Reo goes second, and even though the song choices are alright and his vocals are off the chart—his dance moves are just not it. Stiff as a stick, very few points gained

•Then there’s Chigiri, silently hiding in the corner of the room before his turn, secretly praying that nobody notices him. Probably the best only one to actually slay—perhaps the battles with his sister were finally paying off

•The whole gang dances like it’s a high school party (it is) and honestly the vibes are immaculate. Some of the boys have INSANE dance moves like okay chill—

•And of course, we can’t forget the coach, the biggest supporter of the whole game night, the one and only—Chris Prince who chooses the most BORING and EMBARRASSING songs to dance to which he surprisingly nails but still—

•Chris—to everyone’s disbelief gets the highest rank, meaning he’s the winner of the free day ticket. This man legitimately uses it by not coming to teach on a random Tuesday

•Agi’s basically like a mom, telling the others to enjoy the night, and DO NOT grimace while he takes photos and videos

•”Amazing moves guys! Good job, NOW LOOK INTO THE CAMERA 👹—say cheese!”

•All in all, they have a great night—without killing each other—and some moments end up being posted on the team’s official account, going viral the next morning

UBERS: MARIO KART

•This one was also a good idea. Putting Sendou against Aryu? Not so much. Those two sudden competitive sides came out the moment the game started, and they’re out FOR BLOOD.

•Literally takes them 10 whole minutes to decide who gets the red console making the others rush them. Surprisingly good drivers, maybe keep the insults to themselves

•Sendou who in the very beginning honestly just wants to beat everyone else while Aryu is focusing on winning elegantly but when the salmon haired bumps into his car for the third time? That elegance is OUT the window. They ditch the whole play fair in the end yet none of them get to the top 3

•Aiku thought he’s gonna easily win against Niko but after the first round? He barely stays alive even though he considers himself to be quite the professional go-kart driver. The gap between their scores is huge but no worries ‘cause by the third round he kinda gets the hang of it

•Niko who collects every single power-up item on the road as he drops them on Aiku with perfect precision, slowing the older’s car down. Gets the highest scores and the team always lets him choose the racing courses #privilegesofbeingtheyoungest

•The others are utterly shocked at some people’s driving skills but the night is going smoothly with laughter at every passing moment. The way some of them are taking it so seriously? It creates a fun atmosphere, and the whole team definitely got closer to each other.

•While Barou was practically forced to play, he gives up after about 2 rounds, saying he has had enough. Road rages the whole time but eventually calms down, and suddenly he’s in charge of the snacks while shouting from the sidelines to “do better” or “use those damn items”

•You know how coaches never play? Well, they do now, cause when Snuffy and even Lorenzo decides to participate too, the game takes a BIG turn

•Lorenzo who drives like a madman, loooves the slipstreams and tries to cheat his way through the race by pushing others to the edge.

•Snuffy calmly drives without a care in the world but will let out an occasional curse when the other Italian gets ahead of him by using his items. Has the best technique at assembling his car and always changes his character

•”Stop dropping your damn banana right in front of me!”

BONUS:

•Anri and Ego will occasionally play Monopoly together while they drink wine, and trash talk about the boss of JFU

•Ego thinks he’s the master of this game but when Anri absolutely strips him off of all his properties without leaving a penny?

•He spits out his soggy ramen, and spends NIGHTS researching tactics so the next time she doesn’t humiliate him

[lightsoutmatthews]

willy just posted new pics from cannes on his insta and it gave me an idea! can you do willy x reader at some fancy event and the alllll the ladies keep coming up to will, so reader starts to feel really insecure/not enough. but sweet sweet willy is so loyal and so in love with reader and wants to show her that. thanks chica <3333

Those pictures made me go all 😵‍💫

There´s only you – William Nylander

You stood in front of the hotel mirror, adjusting the strap of your dress for the third time in probably as many minutes.

It wasn’t that it didn’t fit, it did, perfectly actually. You had gone shopping a week ago just to find something perfect for tonight.

A sleek, dark navy gown with a slit up the side, elegant but not too showy. Subtle jewelry, hair done up just the way you liked. You looked nice, good, even.

Unfortunately, good didn’t seem like enough for tonight.

Tonight, you were going to a red-carpet charity gala in Toronto on the arm of Leafs winger William Nylander.

You had been dating for a while at this point, but it would be the first time you would accompany him to such an event.

William was adjusting his cufflinks nearby, looking completely at ease in the tailored black tux.

You caught his reflection in the mirror. His blonde hair was slicked back, his jawline sharp and eyes bright. He looked like a movie star.

He was famous after all, but it was more than that. He glowed in places like this.

You felt lucky but at the same time incredibly nervous.

“You ready, älskling?” he asked, smiling at you in the mirror.

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Let´s do this.”

-------------

The venue was stunning. All marble floors, hanging chandeliers and tall windows overlooking the Toronto skyline.

Cameras flashed as you and William stepped out of the car. He held your hand the whole time, even as the mass of reporters shouted his name.

“William! Over here!”

“William, who are you wearing?”

“Is this your girlfriend?”

You clung to his side, eyes darting everywhere.

He leaned down, whispering softly against your ear as he sensed your unease, “You´re doing great.”

The moment you got inside, though, the swam began.

First, it was a group of women, models, maybe, with perfect hair and bright red lips. They recognized him immediately.

“Willy! Oh my God, I didn’t know you would be here tonight!” one of them almost shouted, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

She didn’t even spare you a glance.

Another one giggled, resting a hand on his arm. “I swear you get more handsome every year.”

You laughed politely, stepping a little closer to him. he didn’t move away, but he didn’t say much either, just gave them that soft, easy smile he used in public.

That professional smile you saw him spot many times before.

More women joined throughout the night. Models. Other attendees wives. Influencers. All gorgeous, all confident, all dressed to kill.

And every time they looked straight at William and barely at you. Some didn’t even hide they scanned him from head to toe.

It was starting to bother you, but you didn’t want to be that girlfriend. The clingy, insecure one. So, you smiled, sipped champagne and stayed close but not too close.

But your chest was getting tighter by the minute.

You started comparing.

You dress wasn’t as bold. You shoes weren’t as high. You didn’t have that high-society polish that they all seemed to carry effortlessly.

The way they walked, talked and flirted, it was like they belonged here, and you were just someone tagging along.

At one point, while William was chatting with a group of other Toronto athletes, you stepped away to the restroom.

You needed a break.

Your cheeks were hot, and not from the champagne or the warmth inside the building.

Why did you feel so small? You were the one here with him after all.

You knew William loved you. He told you all the time, but here, tonight, he fit so well in this world of flashing lights and glamorous women.

You couldn’t stop wondering, what if someday he realized he wanted someone more like them?

You swallowed the lump in your throat and pressed your lips together, trying to shake it off. He hadn’t done anything to even give you remotely the impression that he would.

You just needed a second to breathe.

--------------

When you came back out, you saw him standing near the bar. A tall blonde was leaning in close to him, hand resting lightly on his chest as she laughed at something he said.

It punched you in the stomach immediately.

You turned back towards the hallway and ducked outside to the balcony. It was quieter out there, the city lights glittering below.

You leaned against the stone railing and took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around yourself even though it wasn’t that cold tonight.

You didn’t cry, but the tears picked at the corner of your eyes.

You heard the door slide open behind you a few minutes after initially stepping out.

“Hey,” William said softly.

You didn’t turn around right away, the sound of his voice making the tears threaten to fall any second.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I just needed some air.”

“I noticed,” he said, coming up beside you now. “Are you okay?”

You hesitated for a second. Debating to tell him the truth.

“I´m fine,” you lied instead. “Just a little overwhelmed with it all.”

William watched you for a second after that. “Something is wrong,” he pointed out.

You looked up at him finally and that was when your voice cracked. “I don’t fit in here, Will. I feel like I´m just standing in the background while all these girls throw themselves at you.”

His expression fell instantly. “What?”

“They´re all so confident and glamorous and they look like they belong with someone like you. Meanwhile I´m just me.”

He was quiet for a beat, his brow furrowing. Then he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Älskling” he mumbled, the Swedish term of endearment sending shivers down your spine. “You´re the only person I see in a room like this.”

You scoffed a little, not because you didn’t want to believe him, but because it felt too good to be true.

“I´m serious,” he said, stepping closer. “You think I care about them or that any of them matter to me?”

You looked down. “I know you don’t mean to make me feel this way, but when they look at you like that, it just…it gets in my head. I start wondering if I´m good enough.”

Williams hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face up. “You are good enough. You´re more than enough and you´re everything to me.”

Your eyes burned.

“They don’t know me,” he said gently. “But you do. You know the dumb stuff I watch when I´m sick, the way I get grumpy when I haven’t eaten. You´ve seen me at my worst and still love me. That means more than some girl laughing at my jokes for five minutes.”

You swallowed hard. “But they´re all so…”

“Älskling,” he interrupted you softly. “I don’t want them. I want you. Always.”

He leaned in and kissed you softly, slow and sure. His hand stayed on your waist, grounding you.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I know I don’t say this nearly enough,” he murmured. “But I love you. Not because you came here with me tonight or because you look amazing in that dress…which you do by the way. But because you´re you and nothing any of them say or do is ever gonna change that.”

You blinked quickly, trying to keep your tears from falling. “Do you really mean that?” you asked quietly.

“I swear on every hair product in the bathroom,” he laughed, and you joined in a second later.

He smiled at the sound. “Are you coming back inside?”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly.

He took your hand again, and this time, you didn’t feel like you were trailing behind him. You felt like you were right where you belonged.

-------------

Inside, the event was still in full swing, but William didn’t drift back into the crowd.

Instead, he led you to one of the cocktail tables off to the side, ordered you a drink and sat beside you with his arm around your shoulder.

When people came up to him, he smiled, but he didn’t entertain them for long.

When another woman approached with that flirty tone, he didn’t give her the polite brush-off. He simply turned to you and kissed your cheek.

It was a small thing, but in that moment it felt big.

You saw the woman blink, then glance between the two of you before she smiled politely and excused herself.

William leaned into you. “Better?”

You leaned into him, heart full. “Much.”

--------------

Back in your hotel room later that night, everything felt quieter and softer, like the tension of the evening had finally melted away, leaving just you and William, as you were meant to be.

You kicked off your heels the second the door closed, groaning in relief. “My feet are killing me.”

William chuckled and dropped the room key on the table. “You looked incredible, though.”

You gave him a look. “My toes are genuinely numb. I think beauty might actually be pain.”

He laughed in acknowledgement while he was already slipping off his tuxedo jacket and loosening his tie. “Do you need help with the dress?”

You turned around without answering and he unzipped it slowly, carefully, almost sensually.

His fingers brushed the bare skin of your back, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

You didn’t stop him.

Once free, you let the dress fall to the floor and stepped out of it, his glaze roaming over your body until you tugged on the hotel robe.

William toed off his shoes and changed into sweats and a shirt while you whipped off our makeup and tossed your jewelry on the nightstand.

Finally, the two of you ended up on the bed. Him stretched out, you curled into his side with your legs draped over his.

You felt warm, safe and exhausted.

William pulled the blanket over you both, one hand resting on your thigh, the other scrolling through photos on his phone.

“Look at this one,” he said, holding up a picture of you two from the red carpet. “We look hot together.”

“Speak for yourself,” you laughed.

“Babe,” he groaned in disbelief, setting the phone down. “Don’t make me fight you on this again.”

You buried your face in his chest. “I know. I´m sorry. I just… it was a lot tonight. Seeing how people look at you and how those women flock to you. I just felt like I didn’t measure up…”

He shook his head immediately. “You don’t have to measure up to anyone. You´re not in competition.”

You looked up at him. “It´s hard not to feel like I am in those situations.”

Willima stat up straighter, shifting so you were facing each other fully. “Okay. Listen to me,” he started gently. “I love you. Not you on a red carpet or you in a dress. You. The one who is always honest with me and weird and overthinks everything while trying to be chill even when you´re clearly not. I love every part of that.”

Your eyes prickled again, but you smiled.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I know I´m used to this stuff. The events and the attention and the cameras, but I don’t care about that stuff. The second you walked away tonight; I couldn’t focus on anything else. I was standing there thinking where you went because I didn’t want to do any of it without you.”

You swallowed and then mumbled. “I didn’t want to make it about me.”

“You are it for me,” he said without hesitation. “You´re the best part of my life. These nights don’t mean anything without you in them.”

You stared at him, overwhelmed in the best way.

He reached for your hand, playing with your fingers as he spoke. “I´m never going to let anyone make you feel like you don’t belong. Especially not in a room I´m in.”

After a short pause he continued before you could interject. “You´re mine and I´m yours. That´s it. That’s the whole story.”

“William,” you breathed, voice tight with emotion.

He leaned in and kissed you. Soft, slow and grounding. The kind of kiss that said “I see you and I choose you. Again, and again.”

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours like it had on the balcony earlier in the night.

“You´re the only one I want to come home to. After a shitty practice or a bad game, after a long road trip or just dinner with the guys, for as long as you will have me.”

You blinked fast, but the tears slipped out anyway.

You let out a quiet laugh. “God, I´m a mess tonight.”

He smiled and kissed you again. “You´re my mess.”

You curled tighter into him, heart full in a way that had nothing to do with the champagne or fancy clothes or flashing lights.

It was just him, just the warmth of his body and the quiet of this moment along with the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his life.

This time you believed it. Not because he said it, but because you knew he really meant it.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

max of 📸 and 🪷 please!! your writing is so good

500 for 📸

---

Eddie expects it’s simply something gooey and romantic about it being the new year. About starting 2026 together. Something Eddie might think and struggle to articulate, and then blurt out half-formed when he sees Buck next. With that in mind, he waits to listen to it until he’s back at the station. 

But when he lifts his phone to his ear at 12:41am, a soft smile on his face, it’s not exactly what he’s expecting. 

“Hey, Eddie. Uh… Don’t freak out. I’m on my way to get Chris. He called me. Knew you were working and that New Years Eve is a pretty busy night. I guess something happened at his friend’s and he’s pretty upset. He asked me… Anyway, don’t worry. I’m getting him, I’ll make sure he’s okay, he can crash at my place. Just wanted to keep you updated. Okay. Love you, bye. Oh, and uh, happy New Year’s.” 

Eddie definitely freaks out. He calls Buck back immediately. He knew something would happen at that party. He knew it! Is Chris drunk? Is Chris high? Was he peer pressured? 

“Hey,” Buck answers, whispering. 

“Buck, what happened?” Eddie demands. “Is he okay? Is he intoxicated?”

“Whoa, hey. No. Stone cold sober. He’s fine. He’s good. Just got into an argument and it sounds like two friends sort of ganged up on him. Got kind of heated.” 

“A fight?” Eddie asks.

“No, a verbal disagreement. I swear, he’s fine. He just got worked up and didn’t want to stay. We talked it through. He’s mad at them, but okay.”

Eddie exhales heavily.

“Okay, uh… Well, thank you. Fuck. Thank you for going to get him.”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“What did you do with Penny?” Eddie asks.

“Ah, she slept in the back seat. Hardly knew what was happening.” 

“Thank you,” Eddie says again.

“Seriously, don’t mention it. I’m glad he trusted me, you know?” 

“Of course he does,” Eddie says. But he’s glad Chris thought to call Buck, too. It makes him glad. Of course, Eddie would have figured something out, but it’s nice knowing there was another option - not Eddie’s parents - who Chris could rely on.

“He went right to bed,” Buck says. “I’ll get him to call you in the morning though?”

“Please,” Eddie says. “You’re good with him until then?”

“Totally. I’ll make a big breakfast. Save you some.”

Eddie smiles. “You’re the best.”

He hears Buck hum happily.

“I gotta go to bed, but… Work’s okay?” 

“More vomit than usual, but fine,” Eddie replies.

“Cute.” 

“Go to bed,” Eddie says. “Thanks for rescuing my kid. Love you.” 

“I love you, too.”

---

500 for🪷

---

“Would you like one?” Chris asks stiffly.

“S-sure,” Shannon says. “Thank you.”

She takes the apple fritter gratefully. She’s getting very hungry. Also, something sweet is never bad when you’re freaking the fuck out. 

“Who is the third one for?” She asks after taking a bite.

“My roommate,” Christopher replies.

Shannon looks around the donut shop, as if someone else is going to walk through the door. No one does.

“Your roommate?” She echoes. 

“I’m going to text him to come,” Christopher says. “He should be awake. Uh… Then I’ll call Dad. Maybe.”

“M-maybe call your dad?” Shannon asks. 

She would like him to do that. She would really like to see Eddie. It’s been sixteen years and he probably moved on pretty easily after what she did, asking him to commit then dumping him when he did, but… But she needs something grounding. Something she understands. 

“I need to be sure first,” Christopher says. “I won’t… I won’t make him think… Not if I’m not sure.”

There’s a surprising amount of vitriol in his eyes. Shannon shrinks back in her seat. She’s missing something. 

“What-what do you mean?” Shannon asks. “I mean, if I was, like, a hallucination, Raelynn couldn’t have seen me. I couldn’t eat this fritter.”

“I don’t think you’re a hallucination,” Chris says.

“What, then?” She asks.

“What’s my middle name?” He demands. “What’s my birthday?”

“Adrian,” she says. “September 26th. Do you think I’m… I’m not me?” 

“Anyone could know that,” Chris whispers. 

Well, okay. Sure. But only she was the one doing the birth. 

Shannon frowns. “Okay, could anyone know it was 9:12 in the morning, or that you were exactly nine pounds? Which is rude, for a first baby, by the way. Or could anyone know we chose the middle name Adrian because your aunt was a literal child at the time and cried when she found out we were having a boy because she wanted a niece so bad and we wanted to make her feel better? Could anyone know your army medic father was terrified of cutting your umbilical cord?”

Chris blinks. “That’s a bit more specific, yeah.”

“I’m not lying to you, Christopher,” Shannon promises. “I woke up on the street here. I have nothing. It’s sixteen years in the future and my son who was a little boy a second ago is an adult man. I’m not lying about that.”

“It’s impossible,” he whispers. His mouth pinches at the corners. 

She shrugs. “Clearly not.”

Christopher swallows heavily. He looks down at this phone.

“I’m going to tell him to come get us,” he says, voice cracking over emotion.

“Your dad?” Shannon asks hopefully.

“No, my roommate.”

[vxnillabxn]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ purrrrre fluff! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚there's something about tuxedo cats and zayne... i have a tuxedo cat and she reminds me so much of him ♡♡♡

it was a snowy afternoon. you insisted on going to the arcade, because your plushie army needed new recruits.

zayne couldn't say no, especially not when he knows he'll probably get the best arm massage as you excitedly wait for him to win some plushies.

a few hours later, and three different stuffed animals tightly secured in your arms, you both walk through the snowy streets.

that's when he hears them.

the softest, tiniest mewls.

zayne turns towards a dark alley, and his gaze suddenly travels down the trash bags to a small, open cardboard box.

you stop as you notice his averted gaze. however, you don't question him. if something was able to capture his attention, it must be important.

he approaches the box, and his gaze softens.

three little tuxedo kittens, all curled up and nuzzling each other, protecting their tiny bodies from the merciless cold.

you feel like crying once you approach.

“zayne, can we—”

“yes.”

there's no doubt in his voice as he picks up the box carefully.

the tiny kittens are too weak to attack, but they're spicy alright.

they hiss as they see him, but he doesn't mind. he's used to tiny animals being scared of him.

a brief visit to the vet and a shopping spree later, you two return home.

he bought blankets, food, toys… almost as if silently stating that the kittens must stay.

you don't have to argue; it's not like you don't want to have three little kittens around.

the kittens eat, explore, and soon enough, start climbing on your legs. soft little purrs here, soft little mewls there.

it's heartwarming.

but zayne? poor zayne keeps getting hisses, and the kittens get fuzzy and ready to attack with their tiny paws!

“they'll like you eventually, love.”

you say, trying to cheer him up.

but two weeks go by, and there's no significant progress.

not until today.

the kittens are curled up against your warm skin, sleeping peacefully. you hate to break the cat spell, but you must get up to take a shower.

“zayne, take care of our babies.”

he nods curtly, taking his job seriously.

the kittens stretch and yawn, awake from their deep slumber as their favorite human leaves. zayne pulls your blanket and covers himself with it, his cold skin needing some comfort.

and that's the trick, though he did it unconsciously.

the kittens, attracted by your smell, start climbing up his lap. he freezes.

the first kitten nuzzles into his thighs. the second one is a bit bolder, and climbs until he reaches his shoulder, like a parrot. finally, the third one cuddles against his chest.

all purring, all content.

zayne doesn't even breathe. he is stunned, but thankfully so.

when you come back, you almost squeal in joy, but you bite your inner cheek, smiling brightly as you look at the heartwarming scene.

zayne looks up at you, and you notice a faint yet sweet upward curve on his lips. he's thrilled.

and days after, the kittens now follow him everywhere, confused by his cool skin but warm demeanor, almost forgetting you were once their favorite, too.

[hansrkive]

STILL THE SAME (K.MG)

Everything changed yet everything was still the same between You and Mingyu.

౨ৎ PAIRING: kim mingyu x afab!reader

౨ৎ GENRE: angst angst angst

౨ৎ TAGS: one-shot and literally just sad stuff.

౨ৎ NOTES: wanted something sad to write lmao ++ i figured i’d write my one-shots in second person pov with x reader and my full blown aus in third person pov with x ocs!

౨ৎ HYPERLINKS: pinned post, ko-fi, seventeen’s master-list, and mingyu's master-list.

౨ৎ WORDCOUNT: 1.15K words.

365 DAYS AFTER.

It was as if no one had lived in the house up on the hill. Dust had accumulated by the old fireplace where you once shared your dreams. The old coffee table where you planned your lives were now home to chipmunks who chewed what was left. As the walls that gave you comfort chipped away into dirt gathered slowly on the floor you once danced on, you gave the house one last look as you locked the main door — locking every bit of memory you made into the decrepit, old house. “This house is such a waste,” the buyer sighed as you gave her the keys. “Have you told the other owner you sold it?” she asked.

“He agreed to it, don’t worry,” you smiled bitterly. “So, everything’s done, right?”

“Yeah, we’re all good,” the buyer said. “Do you want a picture with the house? For old times' sake?” the buyer offered.

You hesitantly agreed. Nothing’s bad with one last memory, right? You gave your phone to the buyer and posed in front of the main door. Tears were trying to escape from your eyes, but you pushed through.

You weren’t the type to dwell on the past. You knew that it would just do more harm than good. In your mind, Mingyu has probably moved on with someone new, with someone ready to marry him. Since you broke up, you and Mingyu haven’t seen each other for precisely 365 days. But since you both owned the house you sold earlier this morning, you had to give his share of the money. Did you dread seeing him? Yes. Did you want the Earth to swallow you up instead? Yes.

But you were also curious — curious to see what had changed.

Was he still wearing the necklace you gave him?

Probably not anymore.

Has he changed his hair color to brown? He always wanted to do that.

His hair is different.

Does he still love you?

Maybe, or not.

“Y/N,” a voice called you by a nickname only one knew. As you lifted your head, you saw Mingyu on the other side of the pedestrian lane. Still wearing the necklace, still the same hair color, still the same Mingyu you loved, yet still the same Mingyu you broke.

Without any hesitation, as soon as the walking green man appeared, Mingyu ran towards you as if you were still together — all smiles with a glint of hope shimmering in his eyes. “It’s starting to rain. Let’s go to my car.” Mingyu offered. Drops of rain started to come fast. You didn’t have much choice but to agree. His car was probably the last place you wanted to be in.

“I’ll just give you the cheque and call a cab,” you mumbled as you both got in the car. It was still the same — as if nothing had changed over the past year. The fuzzy dice you won at a festival were still dangling at the rear-view mirror, and the makeup holder you bought was still there, full of unused makeup you had left before you broke up. “You still kept this?” you chuckled, holding the makeup holder to check it. “Your girlfriend might not like this. You still have your exes’ stuff.”

“What girlfriend?” Mingyu asked. “I’m single.”

“Oh.”

“I haven’t had any since, you know,” Mingyu whispered. “I tried, but I also couldn’t.”

You were shocked, to say the least. You imagined him being with someone. It was easier that way. Mingyu having someone new would’ve been better for you. At least you knew you didn’t have a chance. “How about you?” Mingyu asked, his gaze softened as you played with the hem of your shirt.

“Same,” you whispered. “My sister gave me a reality check. She told me I might break the next person like I broke you if I don’t fix myself,” you laughed.

“You didn’t break me, Y/N,” Mingyu promised, his hand itching to hold yours. “You never did.”

365 DAYS BEFORE.

The lights leading up to yours and Mingyu’s home illuminated the street perfectly. As you walked on the steep hill, coming back home from work was tiring, yet relaxing at the same time. Since the house was the farthest on the street, you and Mingyu had a fantastic view of the city — twinkling city lights, honking cars, and skyscrapers kissing the clouds. “You didn’t have to fetch me from the bus stop, babe,” you laughed as Mingyu carried your bags.

“It’s a different day.” Mingyu smiled. “I wanted to be different.”

As you reached your home, you did notice something different. The lawn was freshly cut, the poinsettias had tiny ribbons on them, and there was a faint smell of coconut and vanilla inside the house. “Did you do something?” you asked as you opened the door. You were right, there was something different.

Rose petals were scattered on the floor, candles illuminated the living room, red and pink balloons were floating on the ceiling, and the four words you avoided were plastered on the wall — waiting for an answer. “Mingyu,” you whispered, shocked at the scene before you. You turned around to see Mingyu on his knee, a diamond ring on his hand.

“I always knew that I wanted to marry you, that I wanted to be your husband. Right from the start, as you walked right in front of me during first day of college, right there and then, I knew you were the one.” Mingyu spoke with clarity, his gaze never leaving yours. “Y/N, will you allow me to spend eternity with you?”

“Mingyu,” you stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

365 DAYS AFTER.

“Still, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, tears finally escaping your eyes as you released all the emotions you’ve bottled up over the past year. “I just left. Without listening to you. Without saying anything. I was just scared, Mingyu,” you said. “I was scared that we would be like my parents. I know, it’s not an excuse, but still. I’m so sorry.”

“If you told me about this, I would’ve understood, Y/N.” Mingyu fretted, finally letting his hand touch yours without any hesitation or doubts. “I love you, that’s all that matters. If you were scared about us becoming your parents, so be it. I’ll do what they didn’t do, fight for us.”

“I’m sorry,” you finally sobbed loudly, your shoulders relaxed as you tightened your grip on Mingyu’s hand. “Please forgive me.”

“You never had to say sorry, Y/N,” Mingyu said as he wiped the tears on your cheeks. “Can we start again?” Mingyu asked.

“One year was too long, Gyu,” you laughed. “We could just hit play again. I mean, it feels like nothing has changed. We’re still the same.”

As you both let your bottled-up emotions out, Mingyu grabbed your face and kissed your lips softly, a part of your face he knew all too well.

“Still the same.” Mingyu smiled.

[cupid-diary]

THIS ISN'T JUST A CRUSH | chapter 3

SUMMARY she was the girl who once tripped over a chair leg and apologised to it. the kind of person you'd barely glance at twice in the hallway – funny? sure, but easy to miss. and then she disappeared. two years. no contact. now she's back! not to relive the past but to live loudly. she wasn't supposed to fall back into their orbit. they weren't supposed to start looking at her like that. but this isn't highschool anymore. and this isn't just a crush.

chapter 3 – should i call the cops? (written part 0.6k) | next`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

after a two hour lecture that felt like academic waterboarding, y/n finally made it back to her dorm. she kicked off her boots at the door like she was shedding a cursed artifact, flung her tote bag across the room with zero grace and belly-flopped face first onto her unmade bed. the fabric smelled faintly like the vanilla body spray she overused and the tears of first semester.

her laptop was open on her desk, frozen on a paused episode of the same k-drama she'd rewatched for the third time that week. a lukewarm matcha latte from earlier sat half-drunk beside it, the ice cubes long since melted into a sad green puddle.

the dorm room buzzed quietly with the ambient chaos of late afternoon: a distant tiktok sound from the hallway, the muffled giggle of someone yelling in spanish two rooms down, the occasional screech of a metal chair dragged across tile. somewhere outside, someone was playing guitar. off-key.

y/n rolled onto her back dramatically and stared up at the ceiling like it held answers. her phone buzzed on the mattress beside her.

notification: @.yangjungwon has followed you

her thumb hovered over the screen. blinked once, blinker again. "huh???" she sat up so fast her vision blacked out for a second.

"WHATTT??" she said out loud this time, to no one. she stared at the notification like it might morph into something more logical. like maybe it would say, 'just kidding lol' or 'wrong account' but no. there it was. in cold. hard. arial font.

JUNGWON. had followed her. and she wasn't even back in korea yet. she scrambled to her private twitter account, thumbs flying, heart pounding in a weird mixture of panic and delusional hope.

jungwon wasn't the type to scroll for too long. not really, he hated getting sucked in – the mindless loop of stories, posts, lives he wasn't part of. but that afternoon, something had pulled him in.

he had just finished a late class, something about interpersonal dynamics in media or whatever, but none of it stuck. his mind felt too full and too quiet at the same time. campus was loud in the usual way: friends yelling across quads, bikes rolling past, someone blasting a remix of TWICE in the distance. and yet, he walked through it like a ghost. like his thoughts were a half-second behind him.

it wasn't until he opened instagram, thumbs scrolling out of boredom, that he saw her name. not tagged, not sent. just... there. a random repost on someone's story – complimenting how good your fashion was. it didn't even register at first. but then it hit him. y/n.

he hadn't seen her name in almost two years. not since highschool. not since she packed up her entire life and left for the states, disappearing like a chapter that ended mid-sentence.

and there she was – still her but not. taller maybe. more confident. not the same girl who used to fall asleep during history and hide her snacks in her sleeves. but the same smile. the same impossible energy.

his thumb hovered over the 'follow' button. should he? he hadn't really talked to her back then. not directly. they had mutual friends, overlapping classes. she sat two rows down in chemistry, once she shared her umbrella when it rained. he remembered things she probably didn't know he noticed. the way she laughed into her sleeve. how she bit her straw when she was nervous. that time she spilled milk all over his notes and apologised with a poorly drawn frog sticker.

they weren't close. but for some reason, seeing her name again made something in his chest do a weird little flip. he followed her. just like that. then turned his phone off, shoved it deep into his hoodie pocket and stared ahead as if nothing happened. but the truth was, he hoped she'd notice.

TAGLIST open @zoe1love @haechology @xoseraphinaa @ddolleri @downtoeden @hawarun

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝-𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[thedarknesseater]

Shoko would always find matches or a lighter on him, she didn't have to worry about lighting her cigarettes when suguru was around.

He probably had some accelerant stockpiled in his room, and regularly lit candles. Burnt paper from his exercise books, simply because he liked how the flames danced when he fed them.

I'm actually thinking about post defection and post kfc break up suguru setting fires all over tokyo burning down dilapidated buildings and satoru and shoko know. THEY KNOW it's him. But jjtech doesn't because he's not setting cursed fires like the village. And satoru starts ascribing meaning to the locations of the fires. Shoko shakes her head at him, she used to be vocal but after the third one she's given up.

I think I'm in love with the idea of a pyromaniac suguru

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dungeon Meshi: The RPG

[burrythebusy]

This Hirano Taiga that made the decision to let Kagiura go (but did he? (no))

[project-sekai-facts]

Do we know exactly when was BAD DOGS created? (And when did Akito and Toya meet for the first time). Also do we know since when do Akito and An know each other?

Thank you so much for your hard work!

the timeline around rad weekend/middle school is a bit vague because they cram a lot into like one year. main story says ken retired around 2 years ago, but summerfes says RW was the year after akito quit football which would make it 3 years ago. LSV is consistent with the three years thing so we'll go with that. it could just be there was a year gap between RW and Ken opening WEG. that would make sense.

akito met toya at some point after that. toya says it was 2 years ago in his 2* story from stray bad dog, so when they were around 14. funnily enough despite us seeing the exact scene where they met like three or four times it's never been marked with an "x years ago" so i'm taking toya's word. it must've been just after fawo flashbacks because that's also two years ago and he hasn't met toya yet.

as for when he met an, i don't think there's ever been confirmation. they first see each other in fawo but never actually interact. an says in main story that she's know akito and toya since junior high, so presumably she met them after they formed bad dogs and started hanging out at WEG. maybe she met akito a bit beforehand but i can't remember it being stated.

[sleepybunnysnail]

So we actually have to backtrack a bit before I can teach you about what happened in the eyes and ears au. mostly because I am a stupid little guy who didn't remember the events after the endfight that well in our last lesson.

After the end fight the players are introduced to the listeners, creatures similar to the watchers although just like with the watchers their origin is unknown. The players learn that the watchers were evil and the listeners aid the players in escaping evo.

Now back to the life series, were Martyn, the dramatic little guy that he his, decided to add a little flair to his personal pov.

The first time something happens is in Martyns third life finale, right after he dies. Make sure you write this down because you will need it for the test. You see Third life Martyn falling in front of a black screen. A strange dramatic almost western narration over it. Then it cuts away and we hear an ominous voice talking in rhymes. They are not happy and they shout the iconic phrase of "Our will be DONE!" That is a term that will appear on the test so make ure to remember it.

Over the course of last life this same mysterious voice can be heard multiple times, accompanied by a glitching or completely blacked out screen. The ominous voice even talks to Martyn directly, promising a good ending for him and his friends. In the last episode there's a long conversation between Martyn and the voice. The voice doesn't keep his promise. delivering the iconic line of: "We had a taste before. Back in the winter. IT WASN'T ENOUGH!" We also learn that The voice isn't happy with Scott. Mostly beccause he refused the boogeyman curse, choosing to become red instead, and now he'd become the winner. The voice also says the following about Grian. "He was never meant to be here. He was only ever meant to watch." The first obvious reference to the watchers that is made. The voice also says Martyn is "more of a listener".

In double life there is not a single reference to any watcher stuff, so we're skipping to limited life, which is consequently the end of the eyes and ears au. The season Martyn won. All the watcher stuff happens in the final episode so keep that in mind here. My theory is that Martyn wasn't planning on doing more watcher stuff until he knew that he had won. There is also a reference to the canary curse in here with the line "Canary call, the first to fall." But I'm not sure if the canary curse idea originally came from Martyn or that Martyn had seen it in the fandom.

Then finally we get the first mention of the listeners. "There are those who watch, we are those who listen." I can't say with certainty if this is the same ominous voice we've heard the whole time or if this one is different, but i digress. The scene we see here mirrors the one we saw in the third life finale, although this time it's limited life falling in a void. The listener talks about shards of a soul, on Martyns body we see three fragmented rune like markings, probably one for each previous season. The listener gives him back a fragment of his soul. This is where the Eyes and Ears AU ends.

So, what is happening here? I'm glad you asked that question but next time please raise your hand before shouting stuff across the classroom. After evo the watchers wanted to punish those who escaped, putting a few of them in the life series death game while others presumably got their punishment in another way. The players that come from evo are Martyn, Jimmy, Pearl and Bigb. You might be thinking I'm missing someone but I'll get to Grian later.

Watchers feed on emotions. This is why they were doing everything back in evo and this is also why they started the life series, next to the fact that they wanted to punish the players for escaping. Grian wasn't supposed to participate but he wanted to help the rest. He tries to keep everything lighthearted no matter what happens, tries to keep a smile on everyones faces so that the watchers don't have anything to feast on.

Every life series the players lose a fragment of their soul, a mental toll that this experience causes them. On top of that their emotions are wiped, or more accurately absorbed, meaning they'd still have memories from previous seasons but they won't have any lingering anger from it. There are a few exeptions to this with for exemple Pearl still being mad at Martyn for killing Tilly but in these cases the emotions were so strong that the watchers couldn't get rid of them.

The listeners are primarily just against the watchers, just like they were in evo, leading them to helping Martyn.

Lastly a small fun fact is that Martyn actually came up with an explanation for why Pearl and Cleo couldn't be there for one session. Pearl was still to emotionally unstable, and so was cleo due to ranking way higher then she ussually does in the previous season, so the listeners switched in Gem and Lizzie to give Pearl and Cleo's soul a break.

Anyways, that's all I have time for in this lesson. I will see you in the next class which will be the last of this semester. If you have any questions make sure to email me and don't forget to practice both the material we handled today and everything you've already learnt.

can someone really not normal about hermitcraft infodump to me what the fuck is going on with the watcher lore please . Please . I literally don't know anything about it where am i