#so while yes they still have their memories and personalities

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ HOUSE OF BALLOONS (richgirl!yn | chaewon x reader )

richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick ⭢ super rich kids ⭢ girl, so confusing ⭢ take your mask off ⭢ carmen ⭢ untitled

— BONUNS CHAPTER | the dark sides of the moon family- the tales of the three young moons on a power trip (or slowly loosing their minds) the lost media of the young heirs that can never be found

SEPTEMBER 1st 2016

ARTICLE HEADLINE—“RICH KIDS GONE BAD??”

“a deeply unsettling video featuring moon yn, a first-year high school student, and her older brother moon jae, now in his final year, has started circulating online and it’s sparking serious concern.” click the video below ⭣

the shaky footage, clearly taken in secret, shows the two siblings in their school uniforms, each wearing a distinct chanel brooch. but this was no time to admire their luxury.

the video begins with a girl standing nervously in front of them. jae has his hand under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his eyes. his words are too quiet to hear, but his body language says enough, sharp, intimidating, and cold.

he lets go of her chin and moves his hand to her shoulder in what looks like a comforting gesture, until he begins applying pressure, pushing her down until she’s sitting against the wall. he lets out a low laugh and walks away, leaving yn standing over the girl.

yn kneels in front of her, mimicking her brother’s earlier gesture. she lifts the girl’s chin again, but where jae’s aggression was clear, yn is harder to read calm, collected, and unreadable in a way that makes your skin crawl. she says something too quiet to hear, then smirks.

as she straightens up, she turns her head, looking directly into the camera. there's a soft gasp from behind the phone as the person filming realizes they’ve been caught. the video cuts off abruptly.

the internet explodes… and then goes quiet

but as quickly as the clip emerged, it vanished. users began reporting that links were broken, posts were mysteriously deleted, and accounts sharing the video were suddenly locked or suspended. some claimed the file had been “scrubbed” from search engines entirely. a few who claimed to have saved the video reported their files becoming corrupted.

with no formal statement from the moon family and no official media coverage, the moment began to fade from public memory. a handful of reddit threads and obscure blog posts remain, clinging to what little evidence is left, but for the most part, the world has moved on.

those who still remember are left with questions, unease, and an unsettling silence.

but who they to question what’s going with the moon family? whatever yn and jae did was completely warranted obviously.

THE VIDEO IN THIS ARTICLE IS NOW UNAVAILABLE.

OCTOBER 31st 2016

ARTICLE HEADLINE—“WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT THE YOUNGEST WOULD BE LIVING UP THE MOON NAME THE MOST?”

“a voice audio of who seems to be moon yn the youngest of the moon family talking to a teacher has people thinking only one thing, her father sure did raise her.” click the video below to hear the audio⭣

it starts off soft.

“sir…” her voice is sweet, almost delicate. “I’ve been feeling like this for a while, and my brother’s noticed it too. it seems like you’ve been treating us a little unfairly… because of our name? would i be correct if i said that?”

there’s a pause before the man responds, calm and condescending. “yes, you would.” his voice is firm, too confident. “the moons need humbling, and you prove that every day. I’ve been doing this since your oldest brother was here. he took it. so did jae. now it’s your turn. moons don’t deserve the benefit of the doubt, so suck it up, young lady.”

“oh…” she sounds hurt. quiet. small. but don’t be fooled.

“that’s too bad,” she says, and there’s a shift. some faint shuffling. her tone sharpens, losing its sweetness. “but here’s the thing… I’m not like my brothers. take that as a mental note.”

he doesn’t respond. silence.

“but anywho…” she sighs, fake and theatrical. “I should get going. it’s a shame we couldn’t come to better terms.”

then, her voice lowers to a near whisper. “but I guess everyone’s gonna love to hear about how much you like your female students.”

the laugh that follows is soft. too soft. and then, the audio cuts.

as of now, moon yn, is rumored to be a trainee under sm entertainment. insiders claim she’s been groomed for the spotlight her whole life, and based on this clip, it’s clear she knows how to perform, even when no cameras are supposed to be rolling.

but just like the infamous school hallway video of the moon siblings, this audio has vanished from the internet.

accounts that posted the original clip were suspended, links broken, files corrupted. forums discussing the audio were locked or mass reported. even users who claimed to have saved it privately say the file mysteriously disappeared or won’t play. no trace remains, and most who've heard it now speak of it like an urban legend, something you had to be online at the right time to witness.

and now, another piece of moon family history is buried.

but hey, she was so right, who was he to mistreat a moon?

THE AUDIO INCLUDED IS NOW UNAVAILABLE.

FEBRUARY 5th 2017

ARTICLE HEADLINE — “ALL THREE MOON SIBLINGS CAUGHT IN DISTURBING LATE NIGHT FOTAGE.”

a leaked clip of daeun, jae, and yn leaving an exclusive bar has resurfaced whispers about the moon family and this time, no one was laughing. click the video below to watch ⭣

it’s dark, filmed from across the street, blurry, shaky, and obviously taken in secret.

the video opens with the glowing sign of the club, an exclusive bar only frequented by chaebols, heirs, and politicians' children. entry is invite only. drinks are never cheap. and minors are never allowed.

but in the video, all three moon siblings step out of the building. daeun, the eldest and the only one legally allowed to drink, walks out first in a sleek designer coat, jaw tight with exhaustion. jae follows, swaying slightly as he pushes his hair back and looks like he’s trying to hold back a glare. and yn the youngest walks behind them both, not stumbling, but not exactly steady either.

the three of them look like they’re falling apart in silence. no one speaks. no one smiles. the air is thick.

a black car pulls up, but none of them move toward it.

daeun turns to jae and says something low. he flinches. daeun throws his cigarette down. yn leans against the wall, staring at the pavement like it’s talking to her. none of them look like they want to be there. none of them look like they want to go home either.

and then, jae lashes out, not violently, but enough to startle. he kicks something near the curb, mutters something at yn that makes her roll her eyes, and she finally snaps back. it’s silent on video, but the way they speak, no hesitation, no filter, it’s clear the masks they wear in public aren’t on tonight.

daeun rubs his temples. he looks older than ever.

the three eventually pile into the car. the door slams shut. and the video ends.

why was this ever online?

the footage appeared online late one night under the caption “are the moons okay?” and in less than an hour, it was reposted hundreds of times. viewers weren’t shocked by the drinking, they were disturbed by what it revealed.

“daeun looks like he’s seen hell.” “yn isn’t old enough to drink and she looked the most checked out.” “jae’s energy is always so off. the way he moved… i can’t explain it but it made me sick.” “why did they just stand there like that for so long? they looked so… broken.”

and then it was gone.

just like the school hallway video. just like the teacher audio. accounts were suspended, posts wiped, and copies of the video corrupted or removed. users now speak about it like some sort of cursed file — if you didn’t see it when it dropped, you probably never will.

some believe sm’s legal team got involved now that yn is a trainee. others say the moon family themselves had it buried. and a few claim it was never supposed to exist at all.

THE VIDEO INCLUDED IS NOW UNAVAILABLE.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

fool for you

fratboy!Johnny x f!reader

summary: Johnny has decided that enough is enough! He can’t stop thinking about you and he needs to do something about it! Well… it’s so much easier said than done

word count: 4.4k

warnings: profanity

a/n: fic is set in our new and beloved, fratboy!Johnny universe and will chronologically follow after this post! and oh my gosh yes! stop pestering me! I did name this after linger by the cranberries!

divider creds to roseraris <3

taglist! @severeanxietyissues @neozon3nha @bluedbliss @lovesuhng @wishpid @myfavoritedelusion @onlyrosyjohnny @soonnypeach @noname9392 @sunghoonsgfreal @mmjhh1998 @thedaisyarchive @ohwowzersthatscool @greenyweirdo @127jfam

Johnny wasn’t sure that he’d ever felt this restless in his whole life. How is it that his life had gone from normal, boring, standard, to a complete mess simply because he’d talked to you? You, the girl he hadn’t so much as spoken more than two minutes with him in the years that he first saw you and now you lived in his head! He couldn’t stop thinking about you, he constantly hoped he’d see you again on campus, he wished you’d come to the house again. 

He didn’t think he’d ever been this infatuated before. He felt like a kid with a crush all over again. He wasn’t like any of the stereotypical frat guys who jumped from girl to girl. No, Johnny was more of a boyfriend kid of guy and he hadn’t had a relationship since he and his high school girlfriend ended things before going to opposite end of the country for college. Was it so bad that he wanted a timeless love like his parents? Was it so bad that he wanted to find his other half? The person who would know him better than anyone else and love him for who he was.

Less than an hour spent together and you had completely taken over his thoughts. When would he see you again? What was your favorite color? What was your favorite class? Did you like him as much as he liked you? He sure hoped you did.

He laid in bed, staring at his ceiling while he tried and failed to fall asleep. Why was his brain even so focused on memories of you in the class you shared during his second semester? He could remember vivid images of you, or more, the back of your head. His mind thought back to one specific moment where the class had been tasked with some kind of whole class, lazy activity. The professor, who looked worse for wear, had kicked his feet up on his desk, displayed the instructions on the projector screen and knocked out for the entirety of the class. 

Johnny remembered walking around the auditorium, filling out his worksheet with only one space left to fill out. Nobody that he’d spoken to knew the answer, since none of them had read the last chapter like they were supposed to. He knew he should have done his homework, he probably could have been out of class already, but he’d gotten caught up in frat stuff. Johnny perked his head up, making his way down the stairs and toward the row that was just two rows away from his own row, right to where you were sitting alone and diligently filling out the worksheet with your head ducked down. 

Slowly, Johnny lowered himself into the seat beside you so as to not startle you, “hey.”

Still, you jumped in your seat, having completely missed how his tall frame slipped beside you so seamlessly and quietly. He watches as your hand spreads over your chest in your shock. Your cheeks bloom with warmth and he smiles softly, you’re really pretty. Seeing you up close and not in passing, not from the back, he feels a part of him fall hard for you. 

Your voice is prettier than any song he’s ever heard, even as you laugh shyly, “you scared me.”

He chokes on his words, is that his heart pounding in his ears or is someone banging on the door? Are everyone’s eyes as gorgeous as yours? He clears his throat, blinking a few times to refocus himself, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just uh, I need some help answering the last question on the worksheet. I asked a bunch of people and no one knows the answer. Can you help me?”

“Oh, yeah! That question was hidden somewhere in the last few pages of the chapter, but I actually happened to make a note of it…” you tell Johnny as you flip through your notebook to find the page. 

He can only watch and admire your dedication to passing this class, even if it is a general requirements class. You slide your notebook over to him and he admires your neat scrawl and organized notes. “Here it is,” you tell him softly as you point out the line with the information he needs. 

Johnny copies down the information and smiles at you gratefully, “thank you so much. I’m usually so on top of my assignments, but I guess I got carried away with all the frat stuff I have going on.”

You cock your head to the side with a soft furrow in your brows, “I’m not judging you at all. It’s okay to be busy with things. The homework wasn’t even homework anyway so it’s really no bother at all.”

His body is reacting in that weird way again, but worse than usual. Probably because he’s doing more than just looking at you this time. He’s actually talking to you! A real conversation! His heart is thumping hard and fast in his chest as he forces his brain to remember to breathe! He chuckles softly, “well, I appreciate the help anyway.”

You nod as you pack up your things and stand from your seat with your backpack over our shoulder. “It’s no problem. Have a good one,” you tell him before you walk away from him to leave the lecture hall. 

The memory brings a smile onto Johnny’s face as he drifts off to sleep with thoughts of you on his mind. 

The next time he sees you, it’s not even planned. He’s just come back from a run when he walks past Mark on his way out of the door. Johnny looks at Mark in confusion, “what’s up? I thought you didn’t have class on Thursdays.”

Mark sighs, “I don’t but you guys are up my ass about going to my tutoring sessions so…”

Johnny lets out a laugh, “I think you mean that we’re up your ass about succeeding. Nu Chi doesn't keep idiots around.”

“That’s debatable,” Mark replies with a laugh, “I’m off to the library so I won’t be late. I’ve kept my tutor waiting for too many sessions already. See you later, bro.”

The door shuts and Johnny stands in the entryway for less than a second before he’s sprinting up the stairs, taking them three at a time. He pushes someone out of his way with a shout of “sorry!” He rushes into the bathroom and forces himself into an ice cold shower to wash the sweat and stink off his body. 

He knows he’s dripping water all down the hall as he runs to his room to get dressed. He knows he’s yelled at his brothers for this before, but he has a very limited amount of time to meet you at the library! You wouldn’t be tutoring Mark forever!

He finds one of his nicer t-shirts hanging in the closet, a clean pair of jeans and tucks his wet hair under a backwards cap before slipping on his shoes and making his way out of the house. He’s hustling across campus trying not to sweat while practicing what he’s going to say to you. He feels like a total idiot right now. He’s never been the kind of person to be nervous about meeting anyone. He’s always confident and charismatic, even though you’re his social opposite, he finds that he’s not himself. It’s kind of a fun feeling to experience again. 

He slows his stroll as he walks through the library, trying to look casual as he peeks into every study room, examines every table on the first floor, on the second floor, and finally, the third floor. He peeks his head to take a look in what was, of course, the last study room on this floor. He finds you and Mark looking at your laptop and taking notes. 

Johnny takes a deep breath and straightens out his clothes before freezing. Shit, what was his excuse for being here even going to be? ‘Hey there, I was just casually prowling the third floor of the library, mind if I join?’ No way! He pulls a random notebook from his backpack before knocking on the glass door with a friendly smile. He pushes the door open, “hey, sorry to interrupt. Mark, you left your notebook at the house, I wasn’t sure if you needed it.”

You look over at Mark with a confused look on your face and Mark looks at Johnny with a matching look of confusion, “I have my notebooks. That’s not mine.”

“Oh, well…” Johnny gulps nervously with sweaty palms, “I just wanted to be safe. I want you to do your best Markie.”

Mark’s face twists into a look of disgust, “since when have you ever called me Marki-”

Johnny coughs, cutting Mark off, “well, since I’m here. You guy’s don't mind if I just stay, do you? I’ll be quiet and I’ve got some studying to do of my own anyway.”

“That’s fine,” you nod slowly, returning to Mark.

Johnny spends about an hour sitting on the opposite end of the table from you, pretending to study. Really, his mind is busy working out the conversation he wants to have with you when your session with Mark is done. 

“So I guess, when in doubt, just add as many details about this time period as you can. I think your professor is likely to focus on the areas we covered today for the essay question, but don’t hold me to it. Do you have any questions before we wrap up?” Johnny hears you ask Mark.

Mark laughs as he packs his things up, “yo, I’m actually feeling really good about this test! Thank you, dude.”

Your laugh makes Johnny’s heart skip a beat as you help Mark gather his things and smile up at him, “It’s my job Mark, it’s really no problem. Good luck on your test and let me know how it goes.”

Mark leaves the study room, but not without a look of pure and utter suspicion thrown in Johnny’s direction before he leaves the two of you alone in the study room. Johnny clears his throat, “hey, so are you- you doing anything after-”

Someone clears their throat and Johnny turns to find a girl waiting in the doorway. Johnny’s eyes flit over to you to find that you’re already looking at him with wide eyes, “I’m sorry Johnny, I have another tutoring session right now.”

Johnny’s mouth snaps shut and he nods awkwardly, grabbing his backpack and making his way past the girl quickly. In an hour he’s going to feel like a major idiot for trying and failing to ask you out. He should have just spit it out! ‘Hey! Please go out with me! Please! I will beg!’ But he didn’t and somehow he didn’t feel like a loser quite yet… Mostly because, well, this was going to make him sound like a total dweeb, but you said his name! Was it possible to have two new favorite sounds upon the first time hearing them? Your laugh and his name on your lips.

If he’d have looked over his shoulder while he was leaving the room, he’d have seen you staring at his back as he left. He’d have seen how your eyes were wide and tracked his form until he was completely out of sight. Then consequently seen your next student bumping your arm and teasing you while you hid your face in your hands.

He walks back to the frat house with an extra pep in his step, though as soon as he opens the door, there’s Mark with a smug look on his face, “dude, you are so fucking lame. Really? ‘You forgot your notebook Markie.’” Mark’s face twists into an unimpressed smirk while he holds up the same notebook that Johnny had used as an excuse. A notebook that clearly read ‘JOHNNY’ in Yuta’s signature tag style. Johnny swallows as his cheeks get hot, “you didn’t show her that did you?”

Mark chuckles, “nah, you were smart enough to only show the back of the notebook. She’s not hard to talk to, you know?”

Johnny drags a hand down his face, “she is to me. Only God knows why.”

“You got it bad, bro. Pull yourself together,” Mark laughs brightly as he shakes Johnny by the shoulders.

Very rarely does Johnny like to admit that Mark is correct, but Mark is right this time. He does have it bad, so incredibly horrendously bad for you. He’s no longer keeping an eye out for you, no, he’s “casually” walking across campus to the humanities and social science buildings because that’s where your classes are more likely to be held. 

It’s a Monday when he sees you again. A whole two and a half weeks since he last tried to ask you out. His classes have already finished for the day, but he finds himself making the familiar walk across campus toward the humanities building. The sky is warm and the sun feels nice on his skin as he strolls and swipes through his phone. In the blink of an eye his phone is falling to the floor as his body collides with another. 

“Oh shoot, I am so sorry,” he hears the other person say. Not just any other person, you. He gulps, falling to his knees beside you as you gather all your papers and books back into a neat pile. He can hear your nervous rambling, “I’m really sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going. I’m just running late on my way to the library and— Johnny? What are you doing on this side of campus?”

Johnny isn’t even thinking of a response because while he was listening to you speak, he wasn't listening to what you were really saying. His brain was too busy memorizing the timbre and tone of your voice to focus on any words. It takes his brain a whole minute to process your question all while he stares at you blankly. He clears his throat, right, what was he doing over here, “I… the… I like that bathrooms over here…” What the hell, John?! The bathrooms?!

You giggle softly, “the bathrooms? Surely, the engineering building would have the nicest bathrooms since that building is the newest.”

Oh. You actually bought that flimsy excuse. He coughs softly, “are you… are you doing anything right now?” Wait a second, did your fingers just brush against his? Why was a simple brush of your fingers against making his heart race? What the heck was up with him?

“Yeah, actually, I’m on my way to another tutoring session,” you answer as you pile all your things into your arms before standing. 

Johnny stands up slowly, looking down at you as his eyes trace over every small detail on your face, every curve and every edge. His eyes drag over the curve of your lips, the lashes that line your eyes, and the way your cheeks round as you smile up at him. He blinks slowly, once, twice… what was it about you that made him act like such a fool? Why didn’t his brain work how it was supposed to around you? “Right,” he shakes his head with a smile, “of course. I’m sorry for making you later.”

Your brows furrow just slightly before you smile up at him in such a sweet way that he might just feel his pupils turning into hearts. Your hand comes up to squeeze his forearm. Great, now he’s a puddle from a simple squeeze of your hand. “You get this really faraway look in your eye when you look at me. We’ll have to talk about that next time we see each other,” you tell him in the sweetest voice he’s ever heard before hustling away like you always do. 

He doesn’t even care if you see him if you choose to turn away, but he hunches over, one hand gripping his t-shirt as he tries to catch his breath. Fuck, this was the best feeling in the world, being around you, looking at you, talking to you. And was it just his imagination or did your hand actually linger when you squeezed his arm? 

His train of thought is interrupted when someone coughs, “dude, are you having an asthma attack or something?”

“Something better,” Johnny breathes out.

The person shakes their head, “dude, you’re strange.”

Johnny has been practicing asking people out for a week now. Not only in the mirror, when he showers, before bed, to his pillow, his teammates, and also to every frat brother in the house. It helps him to develop a more well-rounded proposal since he gets so many types of feedback. When Mark and Haechan tell him it’s perfect, he goes to Taeyong to really get it the best it can be. What do those losers know anyway?

He’s thinking about you every second of the day and for some reason, manifesting your presence hasn’t worked like it has these last few times. He still walks around your class building, he keeps an eye out for Mark heading out for tutoring, and even walks around the library for a couple hours a few days. Nothing. Where could you have disappeared to? 

He knows that you’re probably busy with his own classes and tests, but.. he just misses you. It’s not even like the two of you have had any real conversations of substance, but the way you make him feel? It’s addicting. Not in a crazy way, but in a way that makes his heart beat a whole lot faster than running a few laps around the basketball court and feels a hell of a lot better. This must be the kind of feeling he remembers his dad explaining to him when he was a kid. 

Back when Johnny was a tween he’d gone to school with a bouquet of flowers to confess his crush on a girl from his science class. She had turned him down, kept the flowers, and shamelessly asked if his friend was looking for a girlfriend. Johnny had faked a stomach ache, not letting a single tear fall until he was at home and in his dad’s arms. 

“The right person for you won’t make you feel like this, Son,” his dad says soothingly as he rubs a calming hand up and down Johnny’s back, “Look, when I met your mom I felt like I was going crazy. Every time I saw her my heart would beat like crazy, I thought about her all the time, and every time she so much as looked at me I felt like I was on top of the world. When you find the right person you’ll feel all these things and more and they’ll feel the same way. This is just one of life’s lessons. I know it hurts now, but when the real thing comes along, it will feel so much better.”

Johnny’s been thinking about this conversation a lot. He wonders if, once again, he’s throwing himself into the fire to be burned. He wonders if this will just be another learning lesson on the journey to finding The One, and he starts to get really insecure. This is a feeling that Johnny rarely ever experiences, but when he really thinks about it… have you even shown him any romantic interest or just basic kindness? Did your touch linger? Did you stare a little too long? Did you even actually blush the first time you both made conversation? Whatever. He pushes the thought out of his head and instead forces himself to focus on his upcoming basketball game. He can’t distract himself with these thoughts when he needs to be in his basketball mindset. There’s no room in his head to be insecure or to overthink things. He’s not usually the kind of person to think this anxiously so he takes a deep breath and moves on.

There’s just a couple minutes left of the game, Johnny’s standing at the free throw line, exhaling to calm his nerves while he spins the ball in his hands. The feel of the textured rubber, the smell of the gym, the sight of his teammates and competitors has a familiar excitement bubbling in his stomach. His eyes flicker to the crowd on the left, then the right, and back to the hoop-- but wait, did he see that right? Yeah his frat brothers are there, he sees some people from his classes, but who is that sitting next to Mark? He blinks hard, squinting as he sees Mark pointing at the court and saying something to… you! 

You’re at his game, you’re watching him play, you’re here! It’s a complete shock to see you here. This is the last place he’d expect to see you, but Johnny smiles to himself and feels a whole new sense of confidence when he hears the referee blow his whistle. Johnny sinks not one, not two, but all three free throws with just a few seconds of the game to go. He’s playing better than he’s ever played and he’s already one of the best players on the team. Is it a little embarrassing to admit that it’s because you’re watching? Yeah, but he’s not going to admit it. 

The game ends with a victory by a small margin, but it’s a win nonetheless. His teammates immediately go to their water bottles, coach or girlfriends, but Johnny’s heading over to you. He’s making his way through the crowds accepting congratulations and claps on the back with a grateful smile before he’s walking right up the bleachers and right over to you. His frat brothers have mischievous smiles on their faces and thankfully have the decency to disperse not too far away while Johnny stops just a foot away from you. 

“You-you’re here!” Johnny smiles brightly.

You tuck your hair behind your ear, smiling as you drop your gaze to your feet, “yeah, I figured it was time to branch out of my comfort zone.”

“Well, did you have a good time? You caught me on a good day, heard coach say it was the best I’ve ever played,” Johnny tells you earnestly. 

You look up and Johnny tries to keep his breathing normal at the smile on your face. You’re just so pretty up close. He finds himself distractedly counting every beauty mark on your face and each variation of color in your pupils. You’re breathtaking. He blinks hard, forcing himself to listen to your melodic voice, “I have I admit, I don’t know a whole lot about basketball so Mark had to explain a lot of it to me. He said you did a good job and I know enough to know that you scored most of the points… so congrats!”

He licks his lips, feeling his heartbeat pounding right in the base of his neck. What better moment will there be than now? “Hey, do you want to go out with me? Like on a date… please,” Johnny manages to breathe out. 

Your eyes widen, jaw falling open the slightest bit, “you like me back?”

Johnny chokes, “you like me?!”

“I thought I was being obvious,” you murmur shyly, once again dropping your gaze to look at your feet. 

Johnny laughs a breathy laugh. It’s not malicious or teasing but it’s a laugh of relief. He reaches out and cups your cheeks, guiding your face up to meet his gaze. “I have been pining over you since the first time I talked to you. I feel like I’ve been going crazy every day and acting like a total fool— an idiot! All my stupidity just to find out that you’ve liked me back.”

“Honestly,” you tell him quietly, “I had a feeling you liked me.”

“How?!” Johnny asks, his thumb caressing the high point of your cheek.

You laugh softly and Johnny feels his heart skip a beat, “the humanities building doesn’t have bathrooms, John.”

He feels his face blush bright red as he staggers back and plants himself in a seat. He drags his hands through his hair and down his face with an embarrassed groan, “and you didn’t tell me? I really am an idiot!”

You giggle as you sit beside him, rubbing his upper arm which really doesn't help the blush on his cheeks but is something that he very quickly learns he really likes. You sigh, bumping his shoulder with your own playfully, “if it helps, I feel like an idiot too because my flirting wasn’t enough either. Clearly. We were both somewhat clueless.”

“What flirting?” Johnny asks with his brows furrowed softly.

“I looked at you a lot, I touched your arm that one time— twice actually, I came to your basketball game…” you list off as if these are the most obvious acts to have ever been done.

“Oh, Honey,” Johnny chuckles with a shake of his head, “luckily, with me you’ll get plenty of opportunities to work on that flirting of yours.”

You hide your face behind your hands as you whine embarrassingly. He catches your wrist gently and pulls your hand away just far enough to press a kiss to your cheek, “so, was that a yes? You’ll go on a date with me?”

Your voice is quiet but it’s loud enough to have Johnny standing from his seat and cheering when you murmur, “yes I want to go on date with you.”

“Yes!” You hear the guys around you cheer. You glance behind Johnny and find Mark fist pumping. You laugh quietly and lean into Johnny so your head rests on his shoulder and your arm is pressed up against his.

“Don’t take this the wrong way at all,” Johnny tells you, “but I am not worthy to have you pressed up against me right now. I am dripping with sweat, I smell, and I don’t even look good right now.”

“I’d argue that you actually look very good right now,” you reply before clapping a hand over your mouth in embarrassment.

Johnny’s head snaps in your direction with his eyes widened in shock, “now that’s flirting! Yes!”

a/n: feedback is appreciated and I'm adding the first date fic to my to do list!

[southernimpala]

sunny side up

sam winchester x waitress!reader

summary ↬ you serve the winchesters breakfast at some shitty run down diner

notice ↬ fluff ! some cutesy lil flirting, i promised a new fic tn and can't believe i delivered cus i feel like shit but enjoy !, no use of y/n, lowercase intended !

wordcount ↬ 1.4k

the old wooden clock mounted on the wall above the front door ticks teasingly toward the middle of your shift, the break you’ve been craving for the past four hours drawing closer as the seconds jolt in a circle. there’s already coffee staining your apron, leaving a big black blotch right on the pretty lace, there’s crumbs in your hair, and you’re sure the lipstick you put on this morning to look more put together than you really are is already smudged across your face. 

you pay no mind to your appearance as you lazily flip through your order notebook to a blank page while making your way to your new table. 

“hello, welcome to porky’s, what can i get started—” 

two boys catch your eye when you look up, one with short, dark hair almost sputtering dark roast out of his mouth, while the other—shaggier, darker hair with big, piercing hazel eyes—parts his lips at the sight of you. 

“u-um, would you like to see our specials?” you choke out, awkwardly pointing your pen behind you to the big chalkboard above the coffee bar, almost like second nature. you aren’t sure what else to do with your hands. 

the one with the odd necklace wipes the drink from his chin and clears his throat, “ahem—yes, yes we would, right, sammy?” 

the other—sammy—doesn’t seem to hear, his eyes still held solid on your face as it drifts across every feature. it’s not until you hear a shuffle, then a knee hit the underside of their table— “right, sammy?”—when he shakes out of it, nodding aimlessly. 

“sorry,” not sammy says, chuckling stiffly, “my brother here, uh… had a rough night.” 

you can’t help but eye sammy, looking his figure up and down as your brain runs through a million different ways this seemingly innocent, soft, person had a rough night. your heart jumps when he catches you, “o–okay, let me get you some menus.” 

“that would be wonderful,” his brother smiles, hard and plastered.

you twist to fetch the menus and feel the sigh of relief lifting a weight off your crushed body. those are two of the most gorgeous men that have ever walked into your shit diner in some nowhere town off an interstate, and suddenly the clock doesn’t seem so loud. instead, your heart thumps in your ears as your shaky hands grab two menus from the back.

“dean, what the hell was that?” you hear sammy harshly whisper across the table, being met with a response from dean that was too low for your ears to catch.

it takes you a minute to reach composure, remind yourself that their probably asshole drifters looking for some eight am fun, and hand them their menus with a straighter posture and higher head. 

“okay, porky’s recommends the country omelet with extra bacon or the five stack.” you inform, the rehearsed speech ingrained in your memory from training flowing easily as you avoid sammy’s eyes.

dean flashes you a shimmery smile, “well what does—” his eyes glance down to the nametag clipped to the cream colored waitress uniform, your name falling off his tongue like syrup on pancakes, “what does she recommend?” 

sammy’s lips purse. your stomach knots. 

“u-um,” you’d never had anyone ask you before, and quite frankly, you wouldn’t recommend any of the greasy diner food here, but you swallow down a warning and sputter, “i like the french toast with eggs.” 

“eggs how?” he asks, skimming the menu with eyebrows furrowed. 

at the same instant, you and sammy blurt, “sunny side up.” 

your heads shoot up, eyes attracted to the other like moths to flames, bright and burning in your pupils. the rosy blush that paints across his cheeks infectiously spreads to yours, mouth catching flies as it opens and closes, desperate to find something professional to say, when dean slams his menu closed, holding it out for you to take. 

“well, i guess i know what i’m having then,” he says, a tinge of—what was it—defeat in his tone. 

you send him a tight lipped smile, turning to look at sammy as he tries to shield his eyes from your stare, which you just can’t help. the seven thirty sun is shining against his soft, wavy wisps and smooth skin like it only burned for him, his fingers stretching against his forehead, long and slender, as his jaw flexes under the tension of him trying equally as hard not to look at you. your knees almost give out. 

“what are you thinkin?” you ask him, trying to fix your definitely frizzy hair behind your ear. 

his teeth catch his bottom lip, “the same,” he answers, voice cracking, making dean run his palm across his mouth to hide a smirk, “with another coffee, if you don’t mind.” 

“not at all,” you say sweetly, gently taking his menu, “eggs sunny side up?” 

his eyes twinkle in the sun’s warmth soaking through the large window, “you read my mind.” 

you give him a wink, hugging the menus to your chest before spinning on your heel. you can almost feel their attention drawn to you as you walk away to put the orders in, a weird, butterfly feeling settling deep in your stomach. 

it’s a game of cat and mouse as you and sammy play a staring contest across the diner while their breakfasts cook—whether it be with your pen between your teeth as you lean against the counter, or with a bunch of plates balancing on your hip belonging to another table, catching him watching out of the corner of your eye. 

the snicker you see him try to hide when you find his eyes on your figure has you crumbling, like your skin melts and blood goes cold. 

by the time their foods done, you’ve passed by their table close to four times asking if they need another refill, or maybe more napkins, or if there’s a spot on your utensils i can get you another—

the timer dings. order #44 gets called. their plates are hot under your palms as you carry one in each hand, the sunny side up eggs having you biting your lip hard to keep a smile down. 

“okay, two french toasts with eggs, sunny side up,” you announce, delicately placing down their breakfast, the smell of butter and rich maple filling your nose as it wafts in steam, “anything else i can get for you boys?” 

you catch dean nudge sammy’s knee again under the table, coughing loudly like he’s signalling something. 

sammy’s face flushes, which inadvertently causes you to do the same as you switch between the brothers. 

“u-um,” he clears his throat, pokes his fork into his sunny side eggs, “what time do you get off?” 

your body burns with satisfaction, but you won’t let him think that you're that easy, “what time do you skip out on this small town?” 

dean laughs obnoxiously with a mouthful of french toast. sam chuckles like he’s fallen in love. 

“not for a few days at most,” he answers, confidence finally laced in his tone, slick yet still soft, with a smile that kills any hard to get attitude left in you. 

you nod, accepting cruelly that he’s won you over, “i get off at one.” 

“listen,” he starts teasingly, raising his hands against his chest defensively, “don’t feel obligated.” 

a sickly sweet laugh that wipes the smirk right off his pretty face leaves you like the butter dripping down the crust of his french toast, “i think it’s out of my control now.” 

dean leans back in the ripped leather booth, rolling his eyes and sighing in a that should be me way. sammy doesn’t even bother giving him a second look, and you’ve noticed he hasn’t touched his food once since you’ve started to lean closer over the table, hovering over the half-drunk cups of coffee and unused napkins.

“sorry about that,” he responds smoothly. your elbows wobble as you hold yourself up, leaning closer and closer— 

another timer dings. you suddenly remember you’re on the clock, and it hasn’t stopped ticking well after your break that you’ve certainly missed with all the flirting. 

you clear your throat, removing yourself from over their breakfast and fixing the collar of your uniform that’s now crooked against your collarbones, “y’all let me know if i can get you anything else.”

“will do,” dean drags, halfway into the sunny side up eggs smudged in orange across his plate. 

you get out a last wink, fingers softly smudging the red lipstick painting your mouth, “see you at one, sammy.” 

dean’s fork drops in his eggs. 

sam, well, sam’s in love. 

“we aren’t leaving after this case, are we?” dean mumbles. 

sam watches as you walk behind the counter with his heart slamming against his ribcage, begging him to maybe never leave your side. 

“nope.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ tags ↬ @h8aaz , @sacr1ficialang3l <33

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ sam winchester masterlist !

[sunsetvisitor]

The 1000xRESIST 1st Anniversary Fanzine is OUT NOW

blue communion, the 1000xRESIST 1st Anniversary Fanzine is OUT NOW.

This fan-led collection features over 100 pages made by 24 contributors (and 4 mods).

Within these pages, you'll find:

foreword by Remy Siu, the creative director of 1000xRESIST!

fan illustrations and cosplay

fan fiction, poetry, and essays

micro-TTRPG and personality quiz

food and drink recipes

music transcription and diy craft project (standalone printable assets offered with the zine download)

Get the Fanzine here!

We are so stunned by the talent and effort on display. Below is a copy of the forward, written for the fanzine. Hopefully it captures how we're feeling here at sunset visitor about this amazing display of love. This is truly next level.

Fanzine Forward

I can’t believe it’s been a year. While working on 1000xRESIST, it felt like development would never end. There was always something left to do, some sound, animation, or piece of music. A missing voice line here, a missing texture there. A bug persisting somewhere. I’m told this is a normal feeling in game development – and certainly we had similar experiences in the arts world – but this particular timbre of endlessness was new to me. And I think, new to many of us on the team. But... upon release, we continued to experience new things. We saw the first reviews go up. We saw players resonating with the story. We saw the first bits of fan art posted online. The first forum posts in ResetEra advocating for the game. The first messages and emails sent through our contact forms. We got to experience 1000xRESIST being discovered. Discovered by fellow devs and industry workers, discovered by the wonderful community gathering in our Discord, discovered by the amazing fans and artists online, and yes, by all the fantastic people here featured in this fanzine. Performing arts can be lonely. Even though you perform to people in-person and in real-time, after the performance is over, you rarely see the audience again. Their engagement with the work lives inside them, in memory, and one cannot really access that. This is what I’m used to. Getting the post-performance blues. To see fans continue to engage with 1000xRESIST, to get familiar with usernames and avatars, to answer questions on the Discord, and to witness this fanzine come together – to witness it even existing – has been remarkable. Thank you to all the contributors and organizers for making this possible. There’s so much talent and passion collected here. We are so grateful to have this community around the game, continuing to bring new people in and spreading the word. We say that a lot. We’ll keep saying it. 1000xRESIST was by no means a guaranteed success. There was a lot of risk. A lot of challenges. After all is said and done, we still exist because of the fans. It means the world to us that they’re making these characters – this story – their own. We get to discover a whole chorus of diverse artistic voices and perspectives, and all of a sudden, it’s not so lonely anymore. It starts to feel more like a collaboration. So, enough from me. Time to step aside and let these amazing folks take center stage! Six to one and HEKKI GRACE. – Remy Siu (Creative Director of 1000xRESIST) April 30th, 2025

FanZine Credits

MODS

manager & co-editor: 0x0ada

editor & co-manager & social media & promo artist:mynn

layout designer: eira

art moderator & cover artist: SpilledTe

CONTRIBUTIONS BY

0x0ada

Irutzencre

smanki

419 MHz

Issu the Res

Snazz

Amygdala Suzanna

Jupiter

Some-Creep

cadmean

Paprika

SpilledTe

Captain Turnip

Rashika (litchilovers)

thunder0star

deadfinches

ravenzeys

tj_ayyee

goblincat

Revenger210

Umbring

inksoot

sangkalibutan

WolvZephyr

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: Art & advice! Reference use, light, facial expressions and sketching.

Replying to a few miscellaneous comments & questions about my process, with a giggle thrown between every other question for good measure!

Hey! Sorry, I just post them as they are 😅 Can't say I've ever had any issues regardless of size.

That is HYSTERICAL and honestly with the amount of "I don't play bg3 but I follow you anyway" messages that I get, I hope I'm not accidentally giving people the wrong idea 😂

Thank you so much for the kind message!

Anything, really! I use Virtamate whenever I'm really struggling with perspective or an angle, or sometimes something as simple as stock images from google (especially for furniture and interiors) I do also use myself as reference a lot, particularly for hands. Admittedly you do get to a point where you need reference less and less, and can pull poses and anatomy out of imagination pretty easily but you never completely cut it out of art. Reference is a tool just like paper and brushes are, not a crutch.

For angles/perspective and poses (to a degree), yes! Absolutely. It is a wonderful tool that has paid its cost over a million times for me, personally.

I do NOT suggest referencing off its anatomy, however! If you already have a good grasp of how real bodies move, sure, you can use it without issue and just "fix" the anatomy as you draw, but virtamate's models, while more malleable than most 3d figures, still suffer from the usual limitations of it's medium. Musculature and fat in particular do not operate very well alongside said model's movements and don't look very accurate to life.

I will not rest until I have normalized toes.

Thank you so much!

Unfortunately, that is something I genuinely don't use reference for - well, kind of! I pretty much walk through the world making a mental note of how things look and how I would translate that visual onto (digital) paper if I had to. And I think I do that the most with light and shadow.

Light application largely comes from from understanding 3 things:

-Dimensions/planes. -How different materials reflect/absorb said light. -✨DRAMA✨

I suggest studying art from monochrome artists and comic illustrators and seeing how they manage to create the illusion of multidimensionality with a very limited palette. Drawing a lot of figures with only black and white also helps - that was pretty much my entire comic career prior and probably what I am to thank for my current understanding of light placement.

Watching and studying movies and shows that make use of colorful, dramatic lighting also helps a lot - Nicolas Winding Refn has honestly taught me so much just by watching his flicks!

Thank you! I have indeed been trying a couple of different things and I'm glad that you noticed it and that you enjoy it!

Thank you! I'm happy to say I plan on drawing much more of her as well 😇 at least as soon as I recover from the last comic!

Hello, happy to have inspired you even a little bit to get back on the horse!

I think referencing from yourself/real pictures of people's faces is always best, even if your style is pretty cartoony or simplified. That way you can actually take note of how facial muscles work and apply that understanding to your art when you create expressions from memory. Start detailed and then work your way down, removing elements until you are happy with the results!

Paying attention to moving faces when you see/interact with people is also useful. I often say this, but just looking at the world through the lens of an artist can be immensely helpful - taking mental notes of small details and later applying them to what you do, that sort of thing!

I first type them down in (usually) Times Roman and then trace it for that pencil-ed in look!

Hello, hope you are well yourself!

I have this post here that might help you a little visually, but I guess you are more curious about the inbetween stages of that first draft and the final art. I think a lot of it is muscle memory! I can move onto lineart pretty reliably after 1 or 2 sketches for most things, occasionally I will need 3 (not counting when I just change something entirely - that obviously requires the process to start over again for that element) but that hasn't always been the case!

However many sketches you want to do is however many you need, and depending on your art style and process that can vary wildly. Just try not to boggle yourself down with perfectionism - I'm sure you've noticed by now that, sometimes, when you draw something over and over again trying to get it "right" you end up sucking the life out of it. It can actually good to turn your brain off a little bit and TRY to line in the details on the fly, not only will you build confidence over-time but you may arrive at some really fluid shapes and movements as a result!

[n3ptoonz]

'A Burning Memory'

Pairing: WinterSoldier!Bucky/F!Reader

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Warnings/tags: Smut, Explicit/NSFW; pre CA:TWS, not happy ending, slight(?) angst, plot heavy, reader is a black widow, mild fighting, riding, kissing, they have history, reader calls him james - there is a reason why, reader can speak russian, SHE/HER USED, sub!bucky, think of this as canon divergence, partially inspired by the book! half proofread, yes this is also inspired by the song, "i love you" and "I'm sorry" in the same fic, i feel evil, indigo plays way too much rivals

Word count: 2k

TWO IN A DAY? OOOOO (this flow is going to die at midnight)

italicized text in quotations means Russian is being spoken. bold italicized means flashback

>>if you recognize the beginning from a cai bot, that is because it is my bot. anyway, onward!

You left him.

Well, no. You escaped. You escaped all the torment and destruction to your body. You were over the experiments and lashings. The bright lights. The harsh conditions of training. The force of submission. You were done. However, the 'mindless' soldier didn't see it that way.

He was sent out to find and capture you, kill if necessary. One could say he's half in, half out. They told him you're a traitor and ran out on him for your own personal gain and he believed it. Part in mission, part personally. But you've been strategically hiding for months--not knowing you were hiding from him. You figured they'd send HYDRA agents and keep working on him. You hadn't a clue who he really was, nor were you so sure of your own identity, but you never thought the time you spent going on those assassin duo missions would stick to him.

You're squatting in an empty house not abandoned too long ago. It was night and you could already barely sleep, lying awake on the stolen blankets while using your own jacket for cover. You sighed frustratedly and went to go grab a bottled water from the pantry when you feel a cold, metal hand cover your mouth and a gun click, poking your rib.

"Remember me?"

Being the only one qualified to keep up with the Winter Soldier was only a curse. There were no blessings. Okay, maybe there was one. That one...no, three times you two "protected each other" whenever the signal would go out on your earpieces. Otherwise known as, nobody was there to watch your every move. Couldn't hear what you were saying... nothing. You know, the cliche of being in small, dark spaces with someone and you just so happen to brush up against a spot that was sensitive enough to get a reaction out of him of all people.

The supposed armed and dangerous man, most feared assassin the world...let you take his mask off for the first time.

"Turn around." he said, now poking the gun into your back. His accent has gotten thicker since you'd last seen him, which only meant one thing: they definitely wiped his memory again. You managed to swipe his files alongside yours before you got outta there. He's American, but he didn't know that. He still spoke Russian like it was nobody's business.

You obeyed and slowly turned around, dropping the water bottle as you watched his every move. It made you...sad to see him like this.

"I remember you." you said with a neutral tone. "I'm not going to fight you."

He didn't like that. All his enemies are supposed to fight back. There's no such thing as surrender. No hostages. Only pain. He put the gun down but his left hand--the metal one--reached out and grabbed you by the throat, pushing you harshly against a nearby wall. It was dark in the house, but you could still see the void pool in his steel blue eyes.

"Like hell you won't." he said. His jaw clenched behind his mask, but why? Why was he genuinely so pissed? Why hasn't he just knocked you out and taken you with him by now?

You gasped for air as you tried to stay alert and awake. "You need to- remember-" you strained and weakly kicked his padded torso to no avail. He grunted and squeezed harder, but then was caught all the way off guard when you punched him in the middle of his forehead. This made his grip loosen slightly, allowing you leeway to bring your legs up onto his arm and flip him over on his side.

When you landed on the floor next to him, clutching your chest as you regained consciousness, you realized you might have to either A) run as far as possible now or B) try to get through to him. Which is less impossible? Which would hurt less?

He grunted as he went to sit up. You rolled over before he could be within grabbing distance.

"I'm not going to fight you." you repeated as you stood to your feet with your hands up. You watched him get up as quickly as he fell before charging at you. You cursed as you realized you're going to have to, in fact, fight him. It's not like you weren't prepared. You're Red Room. He's HYDRA. It was tango only you two could dance.

It didn't last very long before he had you in a headlock with that same metal arm. You couldn't afford to almost lose consciousness again because this time you'd actually get to dreamland a whole lot faster. So, on impulse, you reached up and snatched his mask off.

"It's just me," she whispered, slowly removing his mask while he let her. He's already seen her full face but it's like she got...prettier.

He let go of you and stumbled backwards, feeling his face, cringing at the cool air hitting it. He stared at you, dumbfounded, nobody has ever tried that before.

They share a kiss. A short and sweet one. Her lips were so soft, so real. So perfect. She's seen me without my mask and didn't run away. She's not afraid of me like the others. She's-

"Who are you?" he muttered. His eyes darting between you and the mask in your hand.

"It's me." you whispered. "I'm not a threat to you, James." you added and slowly set the mask down. You slowly walked towards him and this time he didn't move, didn't make any effort to push you back or fight you again.

He remembers drinking in her quiet, precious moans as they kissed again. She was a drug. Something suddenly worth risking the entire mission for. His life. The consequences of getting too close to, well, anybody. He's a soldier. The perfect soldier who let some woman distract him, but damn it all.

He remembers what it felt like to drag his flesh hand along her leather clad hips. Her ass and thighs, her breasts-

"James," you stood directly in front of him with your hands still up. "You know me. You know it's me."

God, she smelled so good too. Her skin was warm and welcoming, as opposed to literally everybody else who poked and prodded at him under harsh lights and cold rooms. The first and only time anybody had power over him that was wanted, not forced.

He flinched when you grabbed his hand, his eyes shooting daggers at yours as his entire body tensed. But then he looked at you again, under the moonlight that bounced off the walls and into your facial features. Your soft lips and pretty eyes. Those casual clothes that vaguely reminded him of how you looked with nothing on. He uttered your name quietly, more for himself than you.

"Yes," you replied with a smile and a nod. "And your real name is James. Many called you 'Bucky'."

And it was all a flash. His brows furrowed as his brain suddenly fogged. That name...that damn name...why does it affect him like his. He took one good look at you. The way you looked up at him desperately, yet determinedly was like the last time you saw each other.

The signal had gone out once again-

Fuck it.

He grabbed your face and kissed you like no other. It was hungry. It was sad. It was hurt. It was happy. It was...

"Perfect," he muttered against your lips. There was no time to process what just occurred when he pulled you with him, sitting on the couch and clutched your hand in his. It was like he was unsure of himself, but you got the hint. He remembered.

He remembered the last mission. You let go of his hand and started stripping yourself half naked. He watched like a man who'd never seen anything like this before. His head tilted the second you loomed over him and undid his pants, just enough to tug down past his thighs.

That mission had to be the most risky, as there were foes on all sides that had no clue you two were there. This time was different. You technically had all the time in the world. Or at the very least all night.

You normally would entertain the idea of foreplay and all the jazz but truly, it looked like he was about to implode if you didn't start bouncing on it right this second. He uttered your name again, the rest of it dying in his throat when you sank down in his lap. You shushed him as you adjusted, wanting him to savor it and not get overwhelmed. He was still very vulnerable in this state. He had to know you had no intention of taking advantage of him like everybody else.

You set a slow pace, holding his gaze and cupping his jaw like he was a delicate flower. He looked at you like you were an angel before you kissed him gently, letting your fingers run through his hair. You felt his arms creep around your waist to hold you close, to which you didn't mind. He groaned softly and relished in everything coming back to him.

It didn't go as far back as pre-serum, but he could recall your chemistry and how well you worked together. What it felt like to be inside you for the first time. To come a little too close to cumming inside you for the first time. He needed that feeling again, again, and again.

"I missed you," you said softly and rolled your hips. You could feel his grip tightening on them as you both knew he had full jurisdiction to pick you up and finish the job himself. But he didn't want to. Not with you. "A lot."

You picked up the pace and let your face nuzzle on his shoulder, unbothered by the tactical gear that should've for sure had you shaking in your boots. That and the unmistakable musky scent that belonged to him.

He grunted in response to both your words and this new pace. Your silky walls weren't shy in welcoming him home. He could feel your soft curves molding to his hard body, your body fitting perfectly against his own.

This was wrong. Going against his mission. The Winter Soldier never failed a mission and he'd just been compromised by the target. By his mission.

But who cares? This was Bucky. Bucky was utterly in love with you, even if you just met this year. He could feel himself getting closer and closer, desperate to take you with him. He could hear you panting against his ear and whining pathetically. Just what Bucky wanted. Just what Bucky needed.

"Please, come with me," he silently pleaded. Whether it meant literally now or joining him in completely abandoning his mission, that was ultimately out the window as he crashed. Bucky had the mind to pull you up as you came too, watching both of you make a mess in awe and satisfaction.

You trembled in his hold, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. "I'm so sorry I left you." you whispered. "I love you so much." you added and collapsed back into his lap, holding him tightly.

And suddenly his grip around you got weaker, more limp. Your eyes widened when you felt his hands fall to his sides on the couch. The light in eyes was gone and his pupils were dilated.

"James," you shook him, holding his face in panic as he didn't respond at all. "James!"

You rolled off of him and quickly stuffed him back into his pants before throwing on the rest of your clothes. He was gone; passed out. When you heard faint noises of people outside, you cursed under your breath and looked for an exit. Your heart ached at the sight of him clearly deactivated in some way.

You'll never know if he heard your sorry or your confession as you crawled through the fire escape. The mask being put back in his lap to maybe signal that you were here, with him. Yet all it did was prove he failed. And that's all he'll know. Everything else might as well have fell on deaf ears.

Because now, it just remains a burning memory.

[am-i-interrupting]

Hi so sorry to bother you but may I request a silco x female reader where both silco and reader are both biologically Mylo's parents and reader was a woman who worked at the brothels and she met silco (this is when they were both young in their early or mid twenties and it was before the revolutionary war at the bridge) and reader ends up sadly dying after Mylo is born so he has no idea who his parents are again sorry to bother you you don't have to do this if you don't want to.

Never See Him Grow

Mylo never really knew his parents. Claggor had some inkling, memories of blurred faces. Vi and Powder knew the names and habits of their own parents. Even Ekko had some vague ideas.

Mylo knew one thing. His mother worked in the brothels.

He only knew that because he’d been raised there until Vander picked him up one day and decided not to let go. The people there did what they could but even the prettiest didn’t have much. He grew up starved and dirty, malnourished in the streets.

Once, one of the girls sat outside with him, not caring that her cigarette smoke blew directly in his face, and told him more than anyone else. It was what he’d learned over time was his birthday and she was more than a little inebriated at the time.

“She knew who he was, you know,” she said as she leaned close to him. “Your daddy.”

He didn’t know that.

She grabbed his chin. It caused the little fat and skin of his cheeks to scrunch up. His face got pulled close to hers and she looked at him so intently.

“Said you had his eyes and that’s it,” she told him. “And no matter how hard I try, I still can’t find anybody with ‘em.”

She let go of his face and took the effort this time to blow her smoke away from him.

“That and your name was the last thing she said.”

Mylo would join her search after that night for someone else with similar eyes but too many people had blue eyes. Fewer people had blue eyes tinted with green though.

After a while, he just stopped caring. It was too much effort with far too much disappointment.

One day, when he was beaten down and tired. His stomach felt like it’d expanded from the little food he managed to cram into it. He sat at the bar.

He was twelve and freshly taken in by Vander. Well, not fresh. It’d been almost a year but it still felt new.

“Did you know my mom?” he asked.

“Yes, I did,” Vander answered.

“What was she like?”

“Too good for this world. Smart, quick witted, charming, cared more than she ought to.”

Mylo was silent for a moment and then, “What about my dad?”

Blue-green eyes looked up at Vander. He couldn’t help but falter for a moment. Because he knew. He knew the information only one other person knew and she was dead.

He lied.

Thirteen years ago was when he learned. When you pulled him away to the back during a shift. Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were wide.

“I’m pregnant.”

He stared at you for a moment. Your hands gripped his so tightly but they shook.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Do you know who the other parent is?”

You breathed in. It was a shaking noise that rattled your chest. Those eyes began to blur with tears. Your lips stretched and partly quivered. You nodded.

He was silent a moment. Then came his answer as your anxious heart filled the emptiness in a desperate attempt to not be alone, “Silco.”

Vander felt his heart stop in his chest. “What? How— how do you know?”

“I haven’t been getting shit, Vander,” you told him. “That’s why I needed to pick up this job. Silco is the only person I’ve been with in the past two months.”

“Does he know?” You shook your head. “You should tell him.” You shook your head again. “Why not?”

“He’s so focused on making plans. They’re good plans, Vander. He can’t get distracted.”

“He deserves to know.”

“When we figure this thing out, he can know but right now it’d just cause problems.”

“Can you—“ he felt sick to his stomach suggesting it but he had to know— “Do you want to get rid of it?”

You took a shaking breath and gripped his hands harder. “I’m more likely to die trying to do that.”.

Vander felt sick now, turning his back to Mylo as he began to fiddle with a lock. Some part of him wished you’d at least have tried because you would die either way.

That wasn’t a fair thought to the boy but the way he was and Vander had watched from afar how he’d been raised, he knew Mylo had had a life of struggle.

Still, with you gone, he tried to at least not fall into what you’d called those many years ago a distraction. It was only after the failed revolution that he’d given into the instinct he’d had all along and brought the boy in.

Three years later, when Silco acquired a daughter, he didn’t know he lost a son.

[strawbiecream]

🫡Hi I'm back hihi

ok so design questions first bcuz yes, both John and Jane had to change due to the rain making them soupy, however John has exactly 1 pair of clothing and it's his normal outfit... that's currently wet... and u see, there's pros and cons about being a tall yellow man so hmm yeah, Jane manage to convince shed into giving them some of his cloth.

they'd open up to him and vise-versa, just not in the earlier times, after John slightly in a better shape (Imma explain that on the rain thingy part so) they were still wary of him and if they had a chance to get rid of him they would try in no time, hence why they brough him to a round, to see if he snapped. it clearly didnt work and what happened instead was even funnier bcuz I have a small hc that when both killer and survivor join the map each of them suffer from somekind of change (The Spectre play a bigger role as a """emotional"" support for the killers, manipulating their movement and emotions by sayin lil things on their ears which is why CK can kill 007 lol... BUT NOW HE'S GONE) be it physical strenght (Guest) or appearence (John)... so like... bro got scarier but no aggresive, just extra confuse 😔. instead of snapping, John worked as a beefier sentinel and well, after that they got to accept the idea of that MAYBE, VERYYYY MAYBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE they could somehow bring the killers to their side. that idea got more solid after CK joind their side via ANOTHER sad reunion between him and his father (he got locked in the basement for like... 20 whole minutes, which is unfair bcuz my man John Doe stayed there for 18 weeks.) and now to the funny bit of the trusting issue...

with The Spectre gone and his influence towards the killers too, memories of their time in the realm start to get spotty and fuzzy, that's the price they pay to have their pre-forsaken memories (not even fully intact btw) so yeah, John feels guilty but he can't recall his actions, none of them.

And being locked alone in the basement doesnt help at all, if anything, reminds him the time he lost control of his own mind and stayed locked inside his mind for so long. (BUT HE TOUGH IT LIKE THE BOSS HE IS.)

and now the raining bit, the problem isnt the rain, the whole thing is the implications of that event. I think their realm doesnt have seasons and stuff like that so it's either hot and idk... considerable cold/humid. and again, with The Spectre gone and not here to deepen the killers onto their minds and limbos, they start to get more aware. like yeah they know wha they we're doing lmao, at first it was fun but after sometime they kinda got trapped into a weird loop of "finish the round, get out of the map, stay on somekind of trance, repeat" BOOoo routine been getting their ahh. With that awareness back, their body start to function again, they feel hunger, they get tired etc, no adrenaline here to snuff their senses down now 👌 and slowly, it gets to each of the killers with John being the first to suffer from that bcuz he'S A PEEPAW AND PRE HISTORIC MARRIED MAN. I'm totally drawing the CK arc bcuz ooorrghh, I want John and CK to bond and 007n being a father and John to get out of the basement and INTERACT with everyone else aooorrghhh, imma be prob posting it on my art blog tho so like, want me to tag u when I do??? @grey-washere

HI HELLO!!!! WELcom back :3c always happy to see u jumpscaring me while im eating breakfast /vpos

spoon yapping below

Okay first image im holding ur hand very tight and shaking u rn because we have the same john and 1x height headcanon hell euah, PROS AND CONS OF BEING A TALL YELLOW MAN genuinely made me cackle LMFAO 😭😭😭 john being stinky is kinda real tbh he got that stinky fart binary aura shit around 😢😢😢 /silly

the killers only have their own personal limbos iirc,, they cant have a cabin cause beef is gonna happen and the killers become the killed. I like to think they have their own room of sorts which the spectre modifies each one to fit with the respective killer and to keep them under its influence type shit

Oh yeah i really love the way u draw johns expression he just looks so kind, kind old man despite the appearance he possesses. He probably looked scary when he was out of it tho

IS RHAT TWO TIME WITH THE DAGGER please do not the john doe look at how nervous he is 💔

Wait the spectre is gone? WE ALL CHEERED WOOOOO GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏 get microwaved stupid guiltripping manipulative thing with 57 crimes

Poor guy :( he has probably felt fear too when even him cant recognize himself ughhhhh AGGHHHH

VERY MAYBE.. BECAUSE jasun and 1x might not gaf because 1x just wanna beat shedletksy and everyone in her way while jason.. i didnt watch friday the 13th series so idk 💔 also for beefier sentinel do u mean that he literally support the time against the other killers like that would be so damn cool with the scary spikes blocking the way and slowing them down with traps.. ughhh im tweaking /pos

YES C00LKIDD HOLY SHIT, i can see where the survivors point are coming from cuz hes just a kid thats unaware and John is potentially unstable and he can wipe the entire cabin if they slipped

Chat.. is this.. redemption arc.. omg. oh wait no it isnt my bad. If anything i wish to know how the spectre even KABOOMED and EVAPORATED from forsaken, whag would happen to the realm now without it being in charge. The rounds seem to be going on like usual but they get a bit more freedom now from how they could bring john to the cabin and back to the rounds,, im very much intrigued

Im giving him a big fat hug rn holy shit because allat got so much of an influence on john and hes completely different from the man that he was. Everything is gone, not even the memories of his own actions but just a hollow feeling of something very very wrong that u did in the past. That shit is gonna haunt him till he dies

Hes fighting everyday 😞 whens he gonna be let out oguhgutghj

I love this image he looks so fucking sad and traumatized 😭 baby

OHHH!! That sounds like the weather where i live, sometimes it gets uncomfortably hot and the rain doesnt make it better, THE HEAT GETS WORSE like holy shit i wanted rain for the coolness of it but it only makes the hot weather even hotter like okay man

Oh my god its redemption arc ITS REDEMPTION ARC WE ARE SAVED WE ARE SAVED thank u hell they finally feel the sense of being normal again although slowly

Pre historic married man and peepaw in a sentence describing john doe. I like your words.

PLEASE DRAW COOLIIDD BONDING i wish to see their father and son bond :( and yes communication is key, locking john up wont do anything GET HIM OUT NOWW NOWWWW draw johnjane cuddling trust me /nf

abt the tagging idk if ur asking me but i dont mind being tagged btw just to let u know

[cut-it-out29]

been a bit since last I've heard of Nightmare, any fun lore to share?

Why yesss there is :D Not anything too out of nowhere but some smaller things

“Smaller” I say with probably around 400 words.. uhm.. sorry..

That super fun little shape in his skull? Heh.. so that is a “religious” symbol representing purity and cleansing within the village. I think you can pretty much guess what happened there, but I’ll expand more on that in the fic!! The first chapter actually shows the full Apple incident.. it’s written but I want to get the first 3 done before anything…

(Ik it’s been months but I’ve been busy and am really picky with my writing.. unfortunately..)

Fun facts and tidbits about Nightmare! (Not lore heavy but fun)

- He’s actually pretty clumsy.. especially with his tendrils! He has very poor control of them and often breaks things (and even occasionally hurts people on accident but that’s rare)

- Totally mot lore but FADT!NM x FADT!Killer actually has their “own” ship name.. I tend to refer to them as NewMoon. I also use this for Swan x Killer because they have similar dynamics and FADT!NM is definitely a little inspired by Swan. (Thanks .randomcat that name :3)

- He actually has pretty frequent panic attacks (side effect of the trauma :P). Whenever he needs negativity (feeling sick without it) he actually has a bit of a breakdown. Killer often makes negativity without telling Nightmare, but Nightmare gets better at asking for what he needs at some point. (NEWMOON SAVE ME- and yes they’re absolutely cannon if you couldn’t tell)

- Nightmare and Ink actually know each other. Well. moving on!!

- Nightmare’s memory from when he was younger is.. blurry.. he also sometimes get really bad migraines- all this is a sideffect from his head injury.

ANYWAY TIME FOR A BIG RANT!!! :D

I’ve mentioned it before but Narcolepsy (With Cataplexy) , his cataplexy is pretty mild and mainly triggered when he experiences stronger emotions- more often with positive but it can happen with any. It shows up with smaller things like his finer motor function like: his hands being weak, his eyes drooping a bit, semi-slurred speech (rarely noticed by other people cause his southern accent making it sound like an exaggerated“southern drawl”)

Ah, building onto this- his Narcolepsy has a role in the reason why the villagers treated him so badly. He was isolated, he never interacted with the villagers because it was hard for him. He didn’t really have the energy to and being near the tree physically gave him more energy. The isolation meant Night never proved their rumors wrong, they just spiraled. FURTHERMORE his Narcolepsy was from an autoimmune disease, so he was sick often. In the villagers eyes he was cursed.. and it didn’t help the fact that his brother was the opposite being energetic, strong, healthy- constantly. It really just pushed the “Negativity is a Curse and Positivity is a blessing” idea..

[Also I personally don’t have experience with Narcolepsy so y’all feel free to correct me on anything but I put a decent amount of research into Night so I hope it’s decent representation while still being a bit more magic based]

And I’ll leave this rant on FADT!NM here but trust me there’s definitely some more to him still :)

And uh.. don’t want a good image to be entirely smothered from text so I’ll post an image to “go with this” right after :P

[fandomsmadness]

Late but

TBHX episode 4 rant

Okay if I had a nickel every time they ended an episode with Moon being shot in the head... we all know where I'm going and that's concerning. Two main thoughts about the cliffhanger:

THANK GOD EPISODE TWO WASN'T A FAKEOUT

I hate it, if only for the fact that it pulled our focus away from so many important things that happened in the chapter, hello??? I hate that our final takeaway is "Moon got shot again" instead of a number of other things

We start with the most important things first; last episode rant I was asking whether we should just resign ourselves to Lin Ling being unhappy as Nice for the rest of his life and lmao I have never been more happy to be given the most solid answer I could have hoped for.

However, important implication here; I believe this means trust value is a two way system. In order to work:

Trust must be given by people (fans believing in 'Nice'/Lin Ling)

Trust must be accepted by the other party (Lin Ling accepting that he wants to become/is 'Nice'/himself)

And this brings up a really fascinating question: "can multiples of the same hero exist?" The answer should be yes - we see in cases like The Johnnies that trust value can be given to a team as a whole instead of each individual component. Can the mantle of a hero also be split this way? Will that ease the burden?

And in that same vein, would any hero who decides they are no longer their moniker be able to step away from their burdens and expectations just as easily? If yes, which I believe it is, what happens to Lin Ling if he ever wants to go back to a regular life?

That being said I love the naming of this episode, absolute genius, and the way it was presented, absolute cinema. Personally I'm regarding this point as the conclusion of Lin Ling's current arc and I have to say, these last four episodes had us on a rollercoaster. Lin Ling realising he didn't actually want to be Nice, but a hero was peak and I love that he got to get to it on his own terms.

And while I love the introduction of Jeopardy (that song has no right being so badass) I found it interesting that in this particular scene when Lin Ling is finally defeating God Eye, it's Paragon that plays. He gave up being Nice. Why are we getting Nice's theme song here?

That's not all, we still have more questions: If Lin Ling is now 10, what rankings are the ones on the official website???

Why I'm not considering this part of the arc as of now is because it's unfinished, clearly there for cliffhanger value, and it's very likely that we will all change our minds about this later when more information is given because the whole thing is fishy. How does Moon recognize Lin Ling, who she's never seen before? Why is E-Soul or a lookalike there, and why are they positioned behind Moon while the shot came from the side? Was episode 1 a premonition, or was someone trying to warn Lin Ling? Time will tell.

And while I will be really mad if it turns out Moon is alive after that (AGAIN) part of me is hoping she is because give this girl a break man, wtf?? At least give her a proper vacation, or a death in dignity, as her own person, and not an accessory to a man!

Other (less important to me) things:

Blankster was an interesting study for several reasons, the biggest being how powers can evolve beyond their origin function, aka how strong punches evolved not just in strength but also in terms of memory loss. Given Blankster's boxer origins, this makes so much sense, and I thought it was a really clever way to reference concussions. Secondly, Treeman made it too easy for God Eye, come on! It also showed how corporate really doesn't give a shit about Moon as soon as she left; they just viewed her as a liability. From the episode's start, they didn't care about saving her.

It's also nice (haha, pun not intended) to finally have at least one name to these faces. So these are the hero agency heads. Interesting, and makes sense. Now we only need to figure out who the hooded figure is and the intro's main pain points will be less painful (not really).

And finally, God Eye. I can't help but feel he fell kinda flat. Last ep I had high hopes for him being set up as Lin Ling's nemesis, and he did to an extent, embody that with his "there are no real heroes in this era" talk but then along came Lin Ling shedding the Nice persona to prove him wrong. Where does that leave him? Was he only a gimmick for the Lin Ling arc? I feel there should be more.

After all, we still don't know whose fear is channelling God Eye, and how it came be taken away. By making him a laughing stock, perhaps?

I knew episodes 5-7 were going to be E-Soul centered, but I have to hand it to the team, this was one hell of a way to transition viewpoints.

[valevntine]

tw: grief, death/loss

hi, i'm not sure if this is going to be posted. i've written it again and again, over and over, debating whether it was too much or not. i hope it isn't. this is deeply personal and you're more than free to skip it. i'm doing this more for myself than anything else, but i also hope that if someone here is going through the same thing, they will then find comfort in my words. <3

many of you might celebrate mother's day today, like me. i've lost my mum almost 5 years ago, and ever since then this day has been a slap to the face i dread arriving. every year i try to do a little something to make myself feel better and to actually talk about her instead of bottling it all up like i always do, so here i am.

not too long i ago i came upon this podcast pedro was invited to, he talks about the loss of his own mother (30min mark). i don't know why i never stumbled upon it before, i just know that the first time i heard him, what he said felt so eerily familiar.

my mum also left during the summer. it was an incredibly crucial period for me, full of important changes. the morning after it was such a beautiful day out, we had been out of quarantine for not too long so a lot of people were in the streets. i cannot begin to explain how odd it all felt: seeing the world continue spinning, everyone's life going on while it felt like mine stopped. i think that was the lowest point i could hit, there's no experience as isolating as the loss of a parent.

afterwards, it felt like everything bloomed, and i feel selfish for saying it. i got accepted into art school, able to finally study what i preferred and to pursuit my dreams of becoming a full time artist. i met wonderful people who i'm incredibly grateful for - they made me realise i'm not as unlovable or unimportant as i thought, i am worth loving and i deserve affection too. i expressed myself without fear of judgement, i grew, i slowly built a version of me i was beginning to like. i feel so happy and accomplished now, it comes with guilt.

i often wonder what would have happened if i didn't get to experience grief at such a young age. because yes, i was 18, but i wasn't done being my mother's baby, i wasn't done being her daughter. i didn't need to grow up yet, not in that way. was it actually a lesson? or was it just cruel, and we, she, didn't deserve it? is it me believing in silly things or is she somehow still here?

but when i visit other cities and find her name written on the walls, i feel her here. she's in my morning coffee, it's the same as the one she made for herself each day. she's in the way i make my bed, she's in every cake i bake. she's in every tulip, in every butterfly. she's in my features every time i look in the mirror, because how lucky am i to be sharing her face, the most beautiful one i've ever seen and the only thing i have left of her. she's in every smile i sport when i get a picture taken, in every "you look just like her". she's in my memories, in my thoughts and dreams, because those transcend time and death. she's here because i am here and as long as i'm here she will always live through me, through all that she taught me and that i will pour out for her.

grief doesn't leave, you just learn to grow around it. it will find you randomly on sunny days, on sleepless nights, in cities across the world, in recipes from your childhood and in the shampoo aisle. grief is weird, every emotion is valid, let yourself feel it all.

and happy mother's day to all the mums on here! you're fantastic 🫶🏻

ti amo mamma, so much it hurts 🤍🌷

[kikyoupdates]

Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒

bnha x op!reader

op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader

You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.

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“Not a real human,” Aizawa mumbles weakly. “So… what are you trying to say?” 

“To clarify, I don’t mean that she was conceived artificially,” Dr. Iwase says. “There are plenty of parents who employ various methods in order to have children, and all of those are perfectly acceptable, thanks to medicine’s advancements. But when I say that [Name] isn’t a real human, I mean that she was not conceived, but rather, created. Time and time again, she’s said that her very first memory is waking up in front of the man who harmed her, no? And while it’s true that children often experience infantile amnesia to some extent, it still wouldn’t make sense for her to have absolutely zero memories preceding that event. Which is why I believe… [Name] was created by that man, who is presumably a scientist, and she took her very first breath on the same day you met her.” 

Aizawa swallows. Right. He had a feeling that this was where the conversation was headed. 

“She was created just recently,” Dr. Iwase continues. “Which would mean that she never experienced the gestation stage, nor infantile development, as ordinary humans do. It would also explain why her medical data is so puzzling to me. Considering everything we know about her, and how strange her circumstances are, I can’t think of any other explanation, no matter how far-fetched it may seem.” 

“So, what then?” Aizawa frowns. God, he feels like he’s going to be sick. It’s true that for a while now, deep down, he’s felt like you were quite different from the other kids. But nothing could have prepared him for such a harrowing revelation. 

“[Name] was created,” Dr. Iwase goes on, frowning slightly. “And… I still don’t understand how that man transplanted a Quirk. I’ve never heard of Quirks being donated from one person to the next. But [Name] said that he mentioned something about wanting her to be durable, and that alone tells me that she wasn’t created to fill the role of a child. If that were the case, he could have used virtually any other means to conceive her. The fact that he artificially engineered a human can only mean that whatever his intentions were, they can’t possibly have been good. After all, why would she need such a powerful regeneration Quirk? It’s almost as if he intended for her to get hurt. Perhaps, and it sickens me to even suggest it, but… perhaps she was meant to be used as a weapon.” 

Aizawa slams his fist against the wall without even realizing it, and Dr. Iwase flinches, visibly taken aback.

“Shit,” Aizawa curses. “Sorry, I’m… I’m just really pissed off right now. I just can’t understand what kind of maniac would do something like that. It doesn’t matter how she came to exist. The fact of the matter is that she does exist. She’s living and breathing, just like the rest of us, and she’s a kid, for crying out loud! I don’t care if her circumstances are unique. You can’t look at her and tell me she’s not a real little girl.” 

Dr. Iwase nods, then offers a sad smile. “Yes. Of course, I agree. [Name] behaves just like any other child would. Her background doesn’t make her any lesser than her peers. When I said she wasn’t a real human, I was just trying to stress that her existence came about artificially, rather than naturally. But she is alive and sentient, just like you and I are. It goes without saying that she needs to be protected.” 

“Artificially engineering a human,” Aizawa scowls. “Doesn’t that violate some code of ethics? People can’t be playing God like that. Not to mention that whoever created her most likely had malicious intentions, and she’s already admitted to being hurt by him. I swear, when I find this lowlife…” 

Aizawa withdraws his fist from the wall and clenches it even tighter. His knuckles are bright red, and a few spots of blood stain his skin. He slowly drops his fist to his side, but all the while, this entire body is shaking.

He’s a hero. All his life, he’s fought to protect other people. It’s a valiant, noble pursuit, even though he would certainly never refer to himself using such pretentious terms. 

But here’s the thing. Heroes don’t kill. No matter how dangerous the villain, no matter the danger that they face, heroes must always strive to apprehend criminals and bring them back to the police, rather than ending their lives outright. 

Aizawa is a hero, so it goes without saying that he must adhere to those rules. 

And yet, whenever it concerns you, it’s almost as if all the rules go flying straight out the window. 

The man who did this to you… the absolute scumbag that had the nerve to think of you as a tool… 

Aizawa has already made up his mind. 

If he ever crosses paths with that sicko, he’s going to make him wish he was dead. 

“Whoever is responsible for [Name]’s existence is no doubt a criminal wanted on several heavy charges,” Dr. Iwase nods gravely. “He won’t go unpunished. Although finding him will be a trickier matter, since we don’t know his name, or his general location, and as of now, a vague physical description is the most that we have. Perhaps more details will come to [Name] over time. Either way, I’m sure the police will want to investigate this matter, as it seems highly dangerous. Artificially engineering humans, and not only that… but transplanting Quirks. This can’t possibly bode well.” 

That much is obvious. Aizawa has never heard of Quirks being given to people. He always thought they could only ever manifest naturally. Perhaps this deranged scientist discovered a way to pull it off after years of research. It sounds difficult to believe, but considering everything else that’s been discussed here today, it certainly isn’t impossible. 

“At the very least, I suppose we finally have a bit more information to go off now,” Dr. Iwase sighs. “You should contact the police and fill them in on what we discussed. Give my contact information as well, so that I can weigh in and tell them my theory. It’s possible that I’m completely off the mark, but if nobody’s come looking for [Name] after all this time… it’s either this, or perhaps, her parents have already passed away.” 

Aizawa shakes his head. “No. What you’re saying makes sense. And supposing her parents really are deceased, it’s still strange how she claims she never knew them. Everything happening here is far too abnormal. I think, despite the initial confusion, we’ve finally figured out the truth. Even if the truth is hard to swallow.” 

Dr. Iwase nods again, still with that tinge of sadness in his eyes. It really is unfortunate that this is the reality that’s been thrust upon you. Details aside, you are a kid. You think and act just like one. You’re innocent and carefree, and when you smile, Aizawa swears the whole world gets brighter. 

It’s up to him to protect that radiant smile of yours. 

“Thank you again for meeting with me,” Aizawa bows. “This was a necessary discussion, and I’m glad we were at least able to clear some things up. If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking [Name] home now.” 

“It’s no problem. I wish I could say that the worst part is over, but… it seems like this battle has only just begun.” 

“That’s fine,” Aizawa says. He narrows his dark eyes. “No matter how long it takes, and no matter how difficult it is, I’ll do everything in my power to get that bastard locked up. Someone needs to teach him that lives aren’t meant to toy with.” 

He bows once more, then re-enters the room, where you’ve been waiting obediently this whole time. 

“What happened?” you frown. “I heard a loud noise coming from outside. Did someone get hurt?” 

Aizawa quickly hides his red, aching knuckles behind his back. “I just tripped,” he lies. “And I bumped into the wall a bit hard.” 

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” 

You hop off the exam table and walk over to him, peering up through wide, concerned eyes. Aizawa thinks it’s adorable how you worry about him. You’ve got so much on your plate as it is, and yet, you always seem to be putting others first. 

You’ll be an amazing hero. 

“I’m okay,” Aizawa reassures. He crouches down next to you, then uses his uninjured hand to ruffle your hair. “I just spoke to the doctor, and he said you’re still perfectly healthy, so we can leave now. And since you’ve been so patient with all these hospital visits, I’ll make sure to get you as many burgers as you want today.”

It only takes a second for you to explode from excitement. 

“Really?!” you exclaim, and you start jumping up and down, unable to contain yourself. “Oh my gosh, it’s a burger fest! I’m gonna get ten, no—fifteen burgers! And you already promised, so no take-backs!” 

Aizawa chuckles softly. “No take-backs. Today, you can have your fill.” 

There’s a good chance you’ll throw up from overeating, but he supposes every kid has to learn that the hard way. As long as you’re happy, then he’s happy too. 

Either way, there’s no doubt about it now. You have no family to return to, and regardless of how long the investigation goes on for, it’s highly unlikely anyone will ever come looking for you. But that’s okay. Just because you’re different from the other kids doesn’t mean you’ll have to suffer for it. Aizawa will make sure that your life is filled to the brim with joy, excitement, and everything a kid could ever want. 

From now on, he will be your family.

A few days ago, something truly horrible happened. 

You threw up while eating your beloved burgers. 

But how? How could they betray me like this? 

To put it simply, you are flabbergasted. You always believed that burgers could do no wrong. And yet, after stuffing your face with countless of them, which was pretty much the best moment of your life, you were suddenly seized by a violent sensation in your stomach, and you ended up having to purge into a toilet. 

“This is why you need to pace yourself,” Aizawa said. “I let you have a bunch of burgers, but you see what happened? If you eat too much of anything, you’ll get sick. From now on, be more aware of your own limits, okay? But I guess I’m also to blame, since I let you keep eating despite knowing it wasn’t going to end well.” 

It was a harrowing experience, and even that is an understatement. But you suppose you’ve learned an important lesson.

Even a burger—the most amazing food in the world—can be a double-edged sword if not wielded carefully. 

But mostly, you learned that you don’t like to throw up. It was icky. 

Anyways, you’re back in school now. The whole class was given several days off from school because of the hostage situation at the museum. The kids were given some space to rest and spend much-needed time with their families. Even now, a good deal of your classmates are absent, and you have no doubt they’re still recovering from the traumatic event. The teacher surely understands, and despite the noticeably smaller class size, she does her best to keep the atmosphere lively and upbeat. 

“Okay, everyone!” she beams. “For today’s art class, I’m going to split you into pairs and have you paint your partner’s portrait!” 

I hope I get paired up with Izuku.

You turn hopefully towards the freckled boy’s desk, and based on the way he keeps shyly glancing your way, you get the feeling that he’s thinking the same thing. 

There aren’t a ton of kids in class today, so the odds are actually on your side. Although truthfully, you wouldn’t really mind being paired up with anyone. Well, anyone but—

“[Name], you’re going to be working with Bakugou today.” 

Your jaw drops open, and the very next moment, Katsuki’s jaw drops open as well. 

“Hell no!” he cries out. “Why do I have to work with that idiot?!” 

“Bakugou, stop it,” the teacher chides. “It isn’t nice to speak to your classmates that way. If you keep saying rude things, I’m going to have to put you in time-out.” 

Katsuki grits his teeth, clearly mortified beyond words. Nobody likes being put in time-out. It’s humiliating. You know this because it happened to you once when one of the kids fooled you into drawing something inappropriate on the blackboard. 

So, regretfully, it doesn’t look like you’ll be getting to work with Izuku for today’s activity. It’s a shame, but you suppose it’s not the end of the world. Besides, you’re used to dealing with Katsuki’s nonsense by now. 

Everyone is given a big piece of paper, and a handful of paints. Katsuki lets out a displeased huff as he sits down in front of you and picks up his paintbrush. Since you’ve never actually painted before, and since you need to get a good look at his face to do his portrait properly, you proceed to just stare at him.

“What’s your problem?” he snaps. “Quit staring at me and start painting, moron!” 

“But I need to memorize your face,” you insist. “So that I can paint you properly. I want to do a good job. I’m also not really sure what to paint, since your expression keeps changing. But I guess I should probably just make you look angry.” 

“Asshole,” Katsuki mutters, but he drops the issue quickly enough and gets to work. He must be trying to get it over with as fast as possible. 

Katsuki isn’t normally quiet, but since he’s so focused on his task, you’re graced with a blissful period of silence. The whole classroom is silent, for that matter. All you can hear is the sound of brushes dipping into paint and creating occasional brushstrokes across the paper. You’re not talking either, and in fact, your tongue is poking out of the corner of your mouth as you occasionally glance at Katsuki, as a reference for your painting.

Finally, you set your brush down.

“Okay,” you say. “I think I’m done.” 

Katsuki sets his brush down too, then crosses his arms. “So am I. Well, go ahead. Show me what you painted. There’s no way it’ll be better than mine, though.” 

You look down at your painting, and honestly? You feel pretty confident about how you did. This was your very first time, after all, but it almost felt as natural as breathing. Perhaps you’re secretly an artist in the making. Oh! Maybe you can be a hero-artist! Assuming there’s even such a thing. 

You’re giggling to yourself, off in your own little world, and Katsuki rolls his eyes before reaching out to grab your paper in his hands. 

And then, he blinks. 

“What the hell… is this shit?!” 

He lifts up the paper, and based on how he’s mashing his teeth in a fit of rage, you suppose he doesn’t quite get the appeal. Silly boy. He doesn’t even know true art when it’s staring him right in the face. Or—when it is his face, for that matter. 

“It’s you,” you say simply, then you purse your lips. “I thought I made it look pretty accurate. Look, the painting of you is frowning and everything. Just like you are in real life.” 

“In what world is this ugly painting supposed to be me?!” 

Katsuki appears incredibly offended, although you’re not sure why. He makes ugly faces all the time. You figured that painting was the spitting image of him.

You roll your eyes. “Okay, well let’s see what you painted, since you’re apparently so much better than me. But if it’s worse than mine, I don’t want to hear you whining anymore.” 

You reach for his piece of paper, and admittedly, you’re not expecting much. Katsuki likes to brag a lot, after all. He’s probably just being arrogant like usual.

But it turns out that he has good reason to be arrogant.

One look at his painting suddenly makes you feel incredibly self-conscious about the garbage you’d prided yourself on just moments ago. 

“This is… me?” you blink. You study the painting carefully, and you can’t help the way your fingers rise to pat your face in disbelief. “Wow, it’s… it’s really good! I look so pretty!” 

Katsuki leans back in his chair and scowls. “Obviously. I told you mine would be better. If I’m gonna do something, I make sure to do it properly. Ugh. Still can’t believe I had to get paired up with you, of all people…” 

He’s bitching nonstop, as always, but you’re far too preoccupied with the painting to pay him any mind. 

It looks really, really nice. Katsuki has a dirty mouth, and he’s rude to the other kids—most notably Izuku—but you have to give credit where it’s due. He’s smart, has a pretty strong Quirk, and seems to be good at pretty much everything. 

He isn’t a nice guy, and that’s the main reason why you don’t respect him. But… there are certainly some things that are worthy of admiration.

And this is one of them.

“Hehe,” you grin, unable to tear your eyes off the painting. “I love it. It’s so cute. Katsuki, you did a really good job. I’m sorry for bragging earlier. You’re right that your painting is way better than mine.” 

“...huh?” 

Katsuki frowns. You really are weird. Most people would hate to be proven wrong, so why is it that you’ve got that stupid smile plastered across your face? Why is it that you don’t feel the slightest bit insecure, even when things don’t go your way? 

Why is it that… the longer he stares at your smile, the funnier his chest feels? 

“I wanna take this painting home!” you exclaim. “To show Aizawa and Mic. I’m sure they’ll love it too. Hey, do you think the teacher will let me? She will, right? I really hope so.” 

Katsuki doesn’t respond. He’s too busy avoiding your gaze, and for some reason, his cheeks are getting ridiculously hot.

You lean across the table slightly. “Hm? Katsuki, your face is really red all of a sudden. Are you sick? If you have a fever, you should probably—”

“Shut up!” 

Maybe he really does have a fever, because for a moment there, he actually thought you looked pretty. 

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[craving-for-chaos]

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this because I based the whole premise of my current fic on this: What you do think the "Incident" that completely changed Viper was?

The obvious answer would be the assassination attempt, but I think there might be more to it as traumatic as the event was to Viper. Her voice line "I will not lose my home again!" is also interesting in that aspect because I cannot see how that ties to the assassination or, by a long stretch since it was the most significant Omega attack, Venice

I feel like either Riot just purposefully left this vague because they're, well, Riot, or there is a huge chunk of Viper's backstory that they're hiding from us

Ohhhh man. Thank you for giving me a chance to yap about this actually—I have SO many thoughts.

Personally, I don't think that the "Incident™" was her assassination attempt. I dare say that I'm 90% sure it wasn't, and yes, I firmly believe that we're still missing a LARGE portion of her backstory. Okay walk with me on this one, this is going to take a while.

First of all, we have been explicitly told by 2 agents now that Viper used to be in the business of saving people. Vyse's voiceline, "We saved the world once, Sabine. I don't doubt we can do it again," could technically be more science related, so I'll admit that that isn't very indicative of much other than the fact Viper seems quite protective of Earth. Omen's voiceline, however, leaves a lot less room for guess work: "Just think, Sabine. You used to heal with your skill. Funny."

"Heal" is a VERY specific word to use here, and I also think that—aside from the whole Doctor Sabine thing with Cypher—it's the reason that many people, myself included, headcanon that she used to be involved in the medical field. This is also supported by the fact that she's able to somehow help Lucia with her health problems. But back to why this is relevant; as of the Reckoning cinematic, where we see the flashback of Viper's assassination attempt, she is ALREADY VIPER-IFIED.

Okay, so what do I mean by that? Well, her employment at Kingdom alone suggests that for whatever reason, she's already turned her back on "healing" and begun focusing on chemistry. In addition, her demeanor in the Reckoning flashback, while possibly warped since we see this from Omen's POV, is quite...detached, for someone who was just nearly killed. We know that Omen scared/scares her here, as shown by her later behavior when talking about this event, but in the moment, she seems focused. Logical. And, now for the main evidence of her "Viper-ification," she already has her snakebite made, and her mask at the ready. The mask could be excused if she often works with gases, but the literal corrosive acid? Yeah, I have trouble believing she created that for work, Chief Scientific Officer or not.

All of this implies that she's already being plagued by ideas for revenge, which I'm confident stem from the actual incident that made her the way she is. As you said, the assassination attempt was quite traumatic, but not devastating or life-altering in the way that Viper and Fade make the Incident™ seem to have been, especially considering Viper willingly chose to recruit Omen to the VP and treat him kindly after he lost his memories. If he truly was the cause of her current mental state, all of that hatred and anger she seethes would be directed at him—and yet none of it is.

Now with all of that out of the way and onto your actual question, what was the Incident™? Well, I've always personally thought that it MUST have something to do with the deaths of her family and/or a partner.

Let's take a look at these voicelines (bolded words are especially relevant):

"Let's take from them what they took from me—everything!" "I will not lose my home again!" "I'll take everything from them." "You wanted a villain? I gave you a villain!" "I am your monster. You made me this way! Never forget that." "Something wrong, KAY/O? Death's on your conscience? We're not so different after all." "What's it like, Reyna, fighting to keep a loved one alive? No, please. Tell me." (Not as straightforward as the others, but something about her delivery of this line is just...off.)  "Sage, you're the only one who can keep us alive. Don't fail us now like you failed me then." "Never, ever assume you can help me. You can't help me, you can't help them!"

Notice a pattern? Viper is the only agent—and I cannot emphasize that enough, the only agent—who speaks to and about Omega Earth and its agents this personally. She acts like she's has been personally wronged BY THEM, as if they've ruined not only her life, but also her herself. She acts like they specifically are the ones responsible. And the term "everything" is very broad, so it doesn't tell us much other than something extremely important to Viper was taken, but what's more important to someone than their family?

And then there's the recurring theme of deaths/loved ones/"them."

Often times, when Viper says "them," she's referring to the enemy. But that last voiceline is her response to Sage bringing up an offer that she has apparently extended to Viper before, so we can only assume that the "them" here is referring not only to important people to Viper, but also important people who Sage thinks she could help; moreover, people who need help in the first place. Then there's the KAY/O voiceline, which implies that Viper, too, has deaths on her conscience. And the Reyna voiceline, like I mentioned earlier, I personally think is delivered in such a way that makes it seem like Viper DOES know what it's like, and she's being almost sarcastic/bitter when prompting Reyna to tell her about it.

This is why I think that the Incident has to do with her family/loved ones in particular. I think that Viper's literal home could have been destroyed, maybe, but considering she's American, let's be honest, that's quite unlikely. What I do think is more likely, however, is that Viper's home was somehow invaded, and her family—be it parents, siblings, partner, kids, etc.—was injured or killed because of it. Viper's other voiceline about Sage failing her in the past also supports this, because while that could be referring to Omen (considering Sage seems to be involved in Omen's past somehow), I find it much more probable that Sage and Viper crossed paths because of The Incident™. And why would Viper need a healer if she didn't have people who needed healing?

I also believe this is all very intentional on Riot's part, teased but not fully revealed yet. Not only because of all the evidence I've already listed, but because of Viper's playlist on Spotify. There are several songs on it that mention houses/homes being burnt down, and one even highlights family relations in specific. And, fun fact, you know the whole March 20th thing with Viper? Well, a lovely friend of mine actually caught an interesting detail: this year, around the actual date March 20th, Riot briefly added two songs to Viper's official playlist. Those songs were Sick of the Sun by Poppy and My Limb by Hayley Williams, and I'll save you the research—Sick of the Sun literally has a lyric saying "I'm sick of the sun, it burns everyone," and the entire song features a general theme of exhaustion and possible suicidal ideation. My Limb, on the other hand, is about losing a partner specifically, and the grief that comes with it. It also features a lyric saying, "If your part of me is gone now, do I wanna survive?"

Now, those two songs have since been removed, but both the topics and artists suggest that they were intentionally put on that playlist (since Paramore and Poppy are both artists that have songs on it). And, to be quite honest, even I'm not sure what to make of the whole recurring theme of her home literally burning down yet. But even without that, I feel like the rest of the stuff I mentioned is evidence enough of my theory lol.

...That was a lot. But to put it concisely, I'm almost certain The Incident™ involved Viper losing her family directly at the hands of Omega Earth or its agents somehow, that Sage was involved in the aftermath, and that this all happened BEFORE the assassination attempt. Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk lmao.

[kingcenred]

He'd made quick work of the crepe while he'd listened to her card game instructions, and he had less than a third remaining. It was true that he was enjoying it, certainly - the combination of all the carefully crafted flavours in the filling were divine - but he wasn't sure how much the actual crepe was adding to it. Wouldn't it have tasted just as nice in a sandwich, or a ciabatta?

"True," he agreed, his lips twitching with amusement. "Have you noticed yet that my eyes are very much not blue?" he asked, gaze flicking up from his food to make deliberate, playful eye contact. He reached across the table to the bottle of wine he'd opened a few minutes before her arrival, and gestured to one of the empty glasses. "If you're not eating, will you at least join me in a drink? Essetirian wine is some of the best in the world, - yes, even better than French - and I'm not at all biased," he teased.

With just a hint of misgiving, he reached for the top card on the pile and flipped it over: the seven of clubs. "So...that's an embarrassing memory or secret?" he clarified, lips pursing as he considered. He felt at ease with their playful, flirtatious banter...but opening up about himself? Sharing something personal? He'd been trained, since a young age, to be the strong and stoic leader his country needed...and that was not compatible with vulnerability and emotion. Still, he would not be outdone by Marinette's challenge.

"I had a huge crush on the Prince of Denmark, growing up," he began, wondering whether this was embarrassing enough for her. "He's five years older than me, and when I was fourteen I thought he was so handsome and sophisticated. My mother reliably informs me that I couldn't stop staring at him any time we were in the same room," he huffed, reaching out to take a sip of his wine. His bisexuality hadn't been a secret since he was outed in his early twenties, but he doubted that Marinette was aware of that.

Praise for her dishes was always music to her ears. A small smile formed, though she otherwise remained focused on the task at hand, resisting the urge to utter her thoughts aloud- especially the first to flicker through her mind: Of course it’s great. I made it.

Yet when he mentioned the media, her expression grew painfully dull. “If I wanted to sell you out, I probably should’ve done a bit of research before arriving, no?” she replied flatly. “I didn't even if your eyes were blue before I crossed the border.” And truly, what good would it possibly do to betray the very man who'd offered her sanctuary? For money? She had no access it now- not in any meaningful way. If anything, she was no more than ghost, teetering between the imprisonment, imminent death, and nothingness...Best not think about it too much.

Once the rules were laid out, she began shuffling the deck again with idle ease. Her smile returned, sly now, as she glanced up at him. “If you have something worth teaching,” she said, “I’m sure it’ll come up in the game.” She tapped the edge of the deck against the table once. “It always does.” She spoke from experience. “And of course,” she added, sliding the cards toward him, “royalty goes first. Always.”

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 10 - Promise

"'Promises are what keep us together.' That's what you said once, yeah? Then let these rings show our promise: To love each other till our dying breaths."

[puppet-limbo]

Hi it's like 11:30pm and I accidentally made myself emotional over the thought of PNF-404 mourning and grieving and missing a time when humans still lived on it, even if not all of those times were amazing. And when Olimar and everyone else starts crashing on it throughout the series (it tries to guide them down but when people resist and fight it then all goes terribly wrong despite it trying to lead them down relatively safely) it's delighted to see people again and while it won't hand them a super easy time, it knows they're capable of overcoming anything and is genuinely proud to see how they've all come along after all this time by the time of Pikmin 4