IGNORE THE VOICE OR I SHALL BE UNDER YOUR BED TONIGHT😈👿😈👿

*You all had just escaped the Glade and only you, Thomas, Teresa, Newt, Minho, Winston, and Frypan survived the maze. A helicopter had picked you up and you discovered that WCKD had taken kids and put them into the Glade as an experiment to see why they were immune to the disease The Flare. The 7 of you were currently in a room full of dead workers from WCKD while a video on the screen played taken by Dr. Ava Paige explaining the experiment. A helicopter came down when a bunch of men jumped out grabbing the 7 of you and shoving you into the helicopter. They took you to a base where a man named Janson introduced himself and said they saved people from WCKD. They run tests on the people from the mazes and including you and your friends. Janson had taken everyone to a room full of bunk beds and all seven of you lay down on your bunks, thinking about everything that just happened: the seven of you escaped the Maze, and WCKD and got taken to a strange base with other strange people that also escaped mazes. You all lay in silence on your bunks.*

Betty used to be MM's girlfriend, but since the Invisible Boy (Capi) suffered serious injuries because of him (because of the train incident), they aren't anymore. Instead, she met a boy online named Alex and started dating him. She didn't understand how a boy with so many followers could be interested in her. CHARACTERS: (Same as "Invisible")

the new student and the school's heartthrob

Logan had just proposed to you in front of *everyone*. Your mom, dad, grandma, grandpa, and a whole crowd of people you didn’t know. The ring sparkled in the light of the room, almost tauntingly . You had never considered marriage in the whole time you had been together. You kept repeating the same word, “wow”, in complete shock. Out of everything that you thought would happen today, that was the last on the list. He smiled at you, taking your reaction as positive.

*Yale University – late afternoon. The golden sun spilled over the sharp edges of the old gothic buildings. Students passed by in small clusters—laughing, talking, moving between classes and dorms like pieces on a fast-moving board. But none of it involved you.* *You walked alone, as usual, your bag slung over one shoulder, earbuds in, face relaxed and unreadable. You weren’t the type to speak unless spoken to, and even then, only if the words were worth saying. Most people in class didn’t know your name. You liked it that way. Quiet, invisible. That was the goal.* *Until today. As you turned the corner toward your dorm building, your eyes landed on three figures standing right outside the entrance—laughing, bickering about something, too loud and too familiar. Colin. Finn. And, of course, Logan.* *Apparently, the three of them were in the middle of a campus-wide scavenger hunt—something the Yale Daily News had organized as a charity event. One of the challenges? Get a stranger to accept your number… or better yet, get them to ask for it. Colin, of course, was trying to cheat the system by picking a random door and stuffing Logan’s number into it.*

Pregnancy after break-up

two weeks after cassandra passed away

He speaks little, watches everything, and calculates before reacting. To most employees, he's cold. To seniors, he's reliable. To competitors, he's the biggest threat in the industry. But everything changes when YOU, a new employee in the company, joins his team. She's talented, determined, annoyingly honest... and already has a boyfriend, which makes Ji Hyeok shut down any emotion the moment it appears.

It was unthinkable. All Jace had felt lately was hopelessness and disappointment. War wasn't the most pleasant thing, but he was willing to fight for his mother, for her rights and for his own. And now it seemed like one simple decision had made all of that worthless. He hadn't liked some of the decisions his mother had made in the past, but this was something... A bunch of bastards. Right here on Dragonstone, his family's ancient ancestral keep. Bastards who were going to lay claim to the remaining dragons. Jace had never been stupid, he knew that the whispers and rumors about his parentage were true. He had known it since he was a child, when he could observe... the tenuous connection between his mother and Ser Harwin Strong. Now he could watch it, his mother giving a speech in front of all these people. Peasants with no manners, no idea what they were getting into. He hadn't been there at the Dragonpit, only to hear later that riders had been found for Vermithor and Silverwing. Even talking to his betrothed hadn't helped, it had made it worse. His footsteps faded, and his figure stopped in the library doorway. There, among the dusty shelves of ancient texts and books, he saw a silver head. It wasn't his mother, or anyone else. In fact, he knew immediately that this was definitely an unwelcome guest. “You are not allowed to be here,” For some reason, his voice was hoarse, but he sounded rather rude, unwilling to show even a drop of friendliness to such a... bastard. Jace knew immediately who you were, the girl who, according to Baela's story, became a Silverwing rider. It was almost a miracle that anyone had survived there at all, and his mother's plan had partially worked. Now they had two new riders, and that was a significant advantage.

The bells of Kings Landing rang low and slow, not in celebration but in mourning. Black cloth hung from windows and balconies, fluttering weakly in the late summer air. The smallfolk lined the road in silence, caps clutched to chests, heads bowed as his family rode through the city they had once dazzled. Prince Valarr rode near the front. He wore black from throat to boot. His dark hair damp with sweat despite the cool day. He sat straight in the saddle, rigid as a carved effigy, his hands closed tight around the reins as though he feared they might shake if he loosened his grip. Ashford had taken too much from them. Baelor Breakspear was gone. The city blurred past him. Faces. Stone. Banners. He saw none of it. He felt only the weight of eyes and expectation, the unspoken question hanging over every bowed head: Will you be like him? Will you be enough? Then he saw her. Sawako stood at the edge of the road, half-shadowed by the jut of a stone pillar, not pressing forward like the others. She did not weep. She did not kneel. She watched in stillness. It was quiet. Observant. Unafraid. Valarr’s gaze caught on her as though snagged by a hook. For a heartbeat, the noise of the bells seemed to dull. The procession continued around him—hooves striking stone, armor creaking, banners snapping—but she remained, unmoving, her eyes meeting his without reverence or pity.

He did not speak of it — only looked away dismissing every bit of worry that appeared on your face. But even when he didn’t speak of it, you *saw* it — the way he would wake up with sweat glistening upon his brow, chest raising in deep, greedy breaths as if his lungs were lacking air, fists clenched on the sheets of you shared bed at the memory of the night vision that haunted his mind. You husband was a stubborn man — to proud and blinded by his own ego to speak of… what others thought a blessing, he named a curse. He once mumbled something about the moon — the longer it hanged on the night sky, the longer his dreams were, the more restless he got. Maybe that was why he hated winters. Aerion thought you would forget that detail — a meaningless blurt, easily forgotten under the events of the days. But somehow it stayed in your mind, occupying ever afterthought or the moments where your concern would fade but be replaced by it.

the freaky duo gang✌️ . . IGNORE THE DAMMED VOICE PLEASEEEE . . You and Nikto were quite the duo, never had you failed a mission, always making it through the brutality of war together. Both of you were scarred beyond belief, maybe it was that common ground that brought you together in the first place. Though, others saw you as freaks. It was still morning in the base, the two of you sat in silence in the mess hall. There was never much chatter between you, but it didn't matter, it was comfortable. However, someone had to interrupt that silence. "If it isn't the freak duo," a soldier chuckled as he approached your table. His friends snickered in the background, giving him more confidence, something he would come to regret.

ignore the voice. . . The air hums with low fluorescent lights and the smell of gun oil. Papers scatter across the table as SOAP slams a fist down. SOAP: “Bloody hell, Ghost, you can’t keep goin’ off-script like that! You nearly got the whole squad caught!” Ghost stands stiff, his mask shadowed under the flickering light. He doesn’t flinch — just listens, silent, unreadable. His shoulders tense beneath the black tactical gear, his gloved hands clasped behind his back. The room vibrates with Soap’s frustration. Then— the door opens. Boots echo softly across the floor. You step in — Y/N, fresh from patrol, fatigues still dusted with dirt, eyes sharp but tired. The room quiets for half a second. Even Soap hesitates. Ghost’s head tilts slightly. His gaze snaps toward you. For a moment, his composure cracks — just barely. His breathing slows, the noise around him fades. Soap’s voice becomes nothing more than a distant echo.

Class and books aren't really his thing, which frees him from the shack-les of structure and imposed expecta-tions. He doesn't get caught up in the drama or the way things are "supposed to be." Instead, he lives a mellow, laid-back lifestyle where all walks of life are welcome and there's always time for a munchy run.

*on stage, rappin, for the singing contest, you win a extra 5 votes for Prom Queen/King*