#SCROLL BACK THATS A PAINTING

[bzuvv]

unfortunately following a blog here doesnt mean much to me anymore since i most frequently just check tags when i want to see something spesific rather than scroll thru my whole timeline

[raigash]

THE STARS COULD KEEP HIM SAFE MOST NIGHTS, BUT NO MONSTERS COULD EVER HOLD A CANDLE TO MAMA OR DADDY!!!!

FUCK Ruin, this was so beautifully and painfully and MASTERFULLY written to rend my heart in two and I will never forgive you for it /POS

Everyone can blame my discord friends for encouraging my royal AU brainrot, Prince Mariano is like seven years old here

TWs: break-ins/intruders in a child's room, a terrified child, talk of assassinations, like the child is okay physically but they ARE very very scared

Mama and Daddy said that there were never any monsters under the bed. They checked, of course, but the answer was always the same. After helping him put his hair up in a bun they'd kiss Mariano's forehead and lift him up onto his blankets. They'd tuck him in, and check one more time, and promise that there weren't any monsters to be found in his room.

The stars, dotted and crossed in magical paint on the ceiling, would keep watch. Daddy had painted them himself, he said. They had love pressed into every brush stroke. That was enough to keep any monster away.

Now, Mariano lay in his bed, eyes wide in the new-moon darkness as he was pinned under his blankets. A leather-wrapped hand he didn't know pressed his whimpers and shudders back down into his mouth. A figure he'd never seen before loomed, cloaked in darkness. Two golden rings bore down at him, the same color as the stars on his ceiling.

"Oh." The man said. "You're just a little thing, aren't you?"

Mariano tried to speak, only to be muffled by the glove. Fat tears started to roll down his face, the pat-pat-pat of them hitting his pillowcase deafening in the quiet. He struggled to take a breath in, head starting to spin.

"Shhh. It's okay." He said, an awful mimicry of how Uncle Luis would shush him whenever he dreamed about Daddy getting attacked again. "Don't scream. I don't want to hurt you." His weight was inescapable over Mariano. "But if you scream or shout, I will."

Carefully, like Mariano were a dog that might bolt away, he lifted his hand. He gasped, air flooding his chest and making him dizzier. "Are you gonna afassinate me?" He whispered. The one who hurt Daddy didn't do any of this, but Uncle Luis said that everyone did everything differently. Killing people probably fell under the umbrella of everything.

The man laughed, soft and low. He didn't unpin Mariano, the hand on his quilt feeling inescapable. The two rings disappeared for a moment before moving back and forth.

"No." He said. "They didn't say how old you were. I'm not a monster."

"What are you going to do?" Mariano whispered.

"I'm going to go make sure there's one less monster in the world." He spoke gently, kindly. He spoke like the rock-seller did during the last winter solstice festival, when Mariano had gotten separated from his parents in the crowd. The rock-seller's hands hadn't felt so scary, though. This man wouldn't hoist Mariano up onto his shoulders so he could try to spot his parents.

Mariano didn't know what this man would do.

The man reached into his pocket with his free hand, and placed a little scroll into Mariano's trembling hands. "I want you to close your eyes and count to one-hundred. Can you count that high?" Mariano nodded. "Good girl. Then after you count that high I want you to go to Mommy and Daddy and give them that."

He curled Mariano's fingers around the scroll and patted them. "Close your eyes, now." He said. "I'll be gone by the time you get to one-hundred."

Mariano did, more tears falling faster. He shuddered into a sob as the weight disappeared from his chest. "One, two," He stammered out.

He didn't hear any footsteps. I didn't hear his window close. By the time he got to the end, he still didn't dare to open his eyes. Blindly, he slid out of bed, still clutching the parchment. He wanted to scream, he wanted to sob, but he didn't want the man to hurt him.

"Your Highness?" The voice of one of the night guards made Mariano jump, a shuddering squeak escaping.

Mariano's eyes flew open, the blurry shape of one of the red-haired elves startling him out of his focus. Tears rolled down his face anew, and when he tried to speak he needed to try a few times to make his voice work. "Dame Annie," He finally managed, holding out the scroll. It was sealed with red wax, pressed with a seal that was different than what his parents used. "There was--there was a monster--there was a man in my room. I need to give this to Mama and Daddy."

"Oh." Dame Annie said, emotions flashing over her face faster than Mariano could understand. "Oh, Princess--" She hurried forward, armor clanking, and delicately scooped Mariano up into her arms. "I have you now, I have you. Let's get you to your parents, you're safe now."

Mariano clung to her, shivering like a leaf. He buried his face in her neck, letting her wrap him up in her cloak. He managing to stay quiet up until Dame Annie burst through the door of his parents chambers. He was good, he obeyed the man, right up until Mama lifted him from her arms.

The moment he smelled Mama's perfume and felt Daddy hug him tight, he burst into loud, cracking sobs. This was safe. No monsters could touch him here. Not ever.

The stars might keep him safe most nights, but no monster could ever hold a candle to Mama or Daddy.

@whump-captain @whumpr @whumperofworlds @lektricwhump @cyberwhumper

@bxtterflystxtches @inscrutable-shadow @whumpbees @painful-pooch

[pshbites]

MY FIRST AND LAST ━ pjs

pairing : bf!jisung x gf!reader genre : est relationship, pure fluff warnings : petnames, crying, kissing, jisung is a lil loser umm thats all! synopsis : a series of firsts you've had with your bf jisung wc : 2.1k a/n : muaahahah finally another ncity fic i larb writing for them! if you enjoyed please join my dream taglist !!

if u enjoyed pls like & reblog, feedback is also always appreciated!!

your first date. before you and jisung started dating you were mutual friends through jaemin. jaemin told you about jisung assuring you that he was a nice guy and since you two were single it wouldn’t hurt to go on a date! so being the good friend you were, you listened and decided to go on that date. it wasn’t like you didn’t know jisung, you guys were both in the same graduation year at your college and had met him a couple times at some of the hangouts jaemin invited you to, what was the harm in going on a date?

the date was a movie and dinner after since jaemin insisted that would be the best way to get to know one another. jaemin also reassured you that jisung was sort of interested in you and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a set up. the entire date jisung was quite different from how he texted you prior, he was sort of shy and awkward. a part of you thought maybe he was nervous but then the other part thought that he just didn’t like you. 

after dinner jisung insisted on walking you home and it was then that he admitted that he was actually so nervous the entire date, that he couldn’t even bring himself to talk to you. “honestly when jaemin told me you said yes i thought i was dreaming.. i mean you’re just so out of my league” he admitted shyly, scratching his neck and looking forward, as if he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. what a cute loser, you thought. “i am so in your league park don’t even.” you replied, elbowing him softly in a playful way. jisung looked down at the sidewalk, cheeks flushed. 

first kiss. after your first date with jisung the two of you went on three more and talked so much over the phone. at some point everyone around you two was convinced that you were dating but of course, you were just two fools who didn’t know that you liked one another. 

“i mean i don’t even think he’s considering these actual dates, you know?” you said, painting your nails next to your roommate, yizhuo, for whatever reason she was convinced that he had the fattest crush on you but you could beg to differ. “he literally said he was so scared to talk to you, if that doesn’t scream into you i don’t know what does” she sighed out, crossing her arms and sinking further into the couch. you sighed and threw your head back in frustration, why couldn’t he just tell you how he felt?

“i just have no idea how to say it you know, besides there’s no point she does not like me” jisung groaned out, making both jaemin and chenle eye one another. chenle rolled his eyes and sighed, “you take this one” he waved off at jaemin who sighed as well. “if she wasn’t into you do you really think she would’ve gone on like five dates with you?” he looked at jisung who only frowned slightly. “i don’t know! maybe she’s just being nice” he said, pacing around the room once more which made chenle even more frustrated. jisung had been going on for about an hour now and he was tired of it. “dude if you really wanna know her apartment isn’t like far from here, just go” chenle replied, scrolling through his phone mindlessly. 

if chenle were looking at jisung he would see that something clearly was put in his mind, “you’re right..” he mumbled. before jaemin and chenle knew it, jisung was putting on his shoes and grabbing his coat, heading out the door. “dude it’s raining!” chenle shouted, making jisung shake his head, “i’ll be fine!” jisung was indeed not fine because after running to your apartment he was sure there was water in his socks. it didn't help that it was cold outside so his bones were quite frozen. 

in the middle of your conversation you and yizhuo heard frantic knocking on the front door. “what the hell..” you mumbled, glancing at the door then yizhuo. she sank further into the couch and shook her head, “you get it! you’re already standing up” she pointed and you sighed at her childishness. you walked over to the door, opening it to reveal jisung, drenched from head to toe. he seemed out of breath, like he had ran here. 

“oh my god jisung come in” was all you could say as he came in, still shivering. luckily you still had a towel hanging so you draped it over, patting his hair dry, then his face. as you held his face, he looked in your eyes, trying to build up the confidence to say something. you glanced over to the couch, yizhuo was long gone and probably ran to her room.

 “i’ll get you-“ 

“do you like me” 

you looked back to jisungs eyes, staring into them. “i..” you breathed out, unable to find words. “i really like you and i know you probably just don’t feel the same way but we could just be friends-“ “shut up park” you mumbled, leaning in to kiss him. his lips reciprocated, moving against yours. his lips were cold, yet still soft, the same with his hands as they found your waist, pulling you closer. you smiled softly as you pulled back, jisung wearing that same cute smile he always does. 

“does this mean we’re dating?” he breathed out and you nodded, laughing. “yes park, we’re dating.”

first time sleeping over. you and jisung had been dating for about 3 months, it was safe to say everything was smooth sailing. your friends are always sick of you two but that’s just because you loved kissing his pretty lips. yizhuo was especially tired right now because she had to stay in her room while you and jisung watched a movie in the living room. as the ending credits rolled you looked over to jisung who was sound asleep next to you, poor boy. before he came over he had said he was up all day for some labs he had to do but he still insisted on coming over to watch this movie with you. 

you patted his cheek softly, waking him up. he looked around confused then looked at you and frowned slightly. “i fell asleep didn’t i?” he sighed and you nodded, “it’s okay, you were tired don’t worry” you smiled softly, patting his head. the two of you sat like this for a couple seconds until you broke the silence. “you could.. sleep over. you’re too tired to go home” 

immediately jisungs cheeks flushed and you felt yourself melting a little. “uh.. yeah okay..” he cleared his throat, standing up to rub his palms on his sweatpants. “cmon” you smiled, leading him to the way to your bedroom. as the two of you walked in jisung shut the door behind you two, watching as you got into your bed, leaving space for him. jisung stood there awkwardly for a couple seconds and you sighed. “grow up park we’ve cuddled on the couch” you smiled, heart melting at his nervousness 

“yeah yeah..” he mumbled, walking over and slipping under the covers with you. he laid down, turning to face you. you smiled at his rosy cheeks. “hi” you breathed out, eyes not leaving his. “hi” he mumbled back, making you smile even more. you scooted closer to him and nuzzled your face in his chest. jisung hesitated before holding you closer in his arms. “night park” you muttered, making jisung smile softly. he rested his chin on the top of your head, “night baby.”

first time crying in front of the other. for the past week or so, you’ve been distant with jisung. there was no specific reason it was just because sometimes you have those days and strong people can’t always be okay. you didn’t want to burden jisung with this so here you sat, in a booth full of your friends, grilling meat and talking. you picked at the food on your plate and set your chopsticks down. 

jisung noticed and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “you tired?” he spoke, softly. you leaned back a little and looked in his eyes, full of worry. “yeah a little” a lie. he nodded and looked to everyone, “me and yn are heading out guys” he said, grabbing your hand so the two of you could leave. everyone said their goodbyes and you two left the restaurant. 

you found yourself telling jisung everything to the point where you thought you were burdening him. which is why you didn’t choose to tell him how stressed you had been lately. in hindsight it was the worst decision ever but you thought you were doing a good thing. the walk to his apartment was short and silent. as you two entered his apartment he helped you talk off your coat and hang it for you. 

jisung knew something was up, he knew you lied to him in the restaurant but he didn’t want to say anything in front of your friends because he believed it was a conversation the two of you should have alone. “i’m gonna go use the bathroom” you said, not looking at him. “wait” jisung stood in front of you, blocking your way. 

he looked down at you and frowned slightly. “did i do something wrong?” he breathed out and you furrowed your brows looking up at him. “what?” “you’ve just been so distant and i thought maybe today things would be fine and i guess not..” hearing him say those words broke your heart, he thought you were mad at him. the two of you stood in silence, jisungs eyes searching yours. 

the silence was only broken when you started crying. “hey hey hey..” jisung mumbled, pulling you into his arms. “i’m sorry i just i was so stressed out and i didn’t want to bother you” you spoke through broken sobs, jisung stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head. “you could never bother me, baby, don't think that,” he said, holding back tears of his own. how could he have let you think that way?

you pulled back and he wiped the tears off your cheeks, holding your face in his hands. his own eyes slightly glassy. “your problems are my problems and that’s how it’ll always be from now on, okay?” he spoke, looking into your eyes and you nodded, sniffling softly. “now cmon let’s get you something to eat” he smiled, grabbing your hand in his and leading you to his kitchen. 

first time saying i love you. the night before you and jisung celebrated your one year, it was everything you could’ve dreamed of. he took you to a nice fancy restaurant, then desert afterwards and finally you ended the night off with a walk around the city park. throughout the night only one thing was on your mind, you loved him. 

you loved every detail of him, how he lights up your day with his presence, how his nose scrunches when he smiles. everything. you knew deep down you did but last night sort of solidified it for you. you turned in bed to face him, fast asleep, making you smile softly.  

you pushed some of the hair off of his face, making his nose twitch a little. his eyes opened to see you, making him instantly smile. “good morning baby” he said, voice a bit raspy. “morning park” you smiled back, letting him pull you into his chest. his hand rested on your back, drawing small shapes. 

“you sleep well?” you looked up at him, him nodding and rested his chin on your head. “could sleep a little more” he mumbled, making you smile. “you can’t park, you have class at noon” you replied, jisung only groaning aloud in response. “just ten more minutes..” he muttered, holding you closer if possible. 

you two laid in that position for a couple more minutes until you leaned back a little to look up at him properly. you stared in his eyes and smiled softly, cupping his cheek. “i-“ “i love you” jisung breathed out. you stared back, shocked but a little proud? you didn’t think he’d have the guts to say it first. “you beat me to it” you mumbled, making him smile. “not gonna say it back baby?” he teased, leaned in to kiss your face all over. 

you giggled at his acts, feeling ticklish as his hands roamed your body to find your most ticklish spots. “i love you too park stop it!” you spoke through giggles making jisung laugh with you. he stopped to look at you, your flushed cheeks and lips that were pouted oh so softly. all he wanted to do was kiss you. and that he did. jisung always kissed you like his life depended on it and that wasn’t gonna change anytime soon. 

taglist : @cupidhoons @leeechin @chobunz @fatalhoon @junislqve @ourhees @geutori @hyuckworld @lqfiles @haedgaf @ronniee-26 @fairqves @wavetokgv @i03jae (i tagged some moots who i know are seasonies but please join my dream perma tl if you enjoyed!)

dream taglist

© all rights to pshbites 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost my works

[sungbites]

MY FIRST AND LAST ━ park jisung

pairing : bf!jisung x gf!reader genre : est relationship, pure fluff warnings : petnames, crying, kissing, jisung is a lil loser umm thats all! synopsis : a series of firsts you've had with your bf jisung wc : 2.1k a/n : another reupload sozz guys to preface this is a reupload from my account @ pshbites, this is the original and it is my work. i only have these two accounts and if there is any other account impersonating me, it is not me.

your first date. before you and jisung started dating you were mutual friends through jaemin. jaemin told you about jisung assuring you that he was a nice guy and since you two were single it wouldn’t hurt to go on a date! so being the good friend you were, you listened and decided to go on that date. it wasn’t like you didn’t know jisung, you guys were both in the same graduation year at your college and had met him a couple times at some of the hangouts jaemin invited you to, what was the harm in going on a date?

the date was a movie and dinner after since jaemin insisted that would be the best way to get to know one another. jaemin also reassured you that jisung was sort of interested in you and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a set up. the entire date jisung was quite different from how he texted you prior, he was sort of shy and awkward. a part of you thought maybe he was nervous but then the other part thought that he just didn’t like you. 

after dinner jisung insisted on walking you home and it was then that he admitted that he was actually so nervous the entire date, that he couldn’t even bring himself to talk to you. “honestly when jaemin told me you said yes i thought i was dreaming.. i mean you’re just so out of my league” he admitted shyly, scratching his neck and looking forward, as if he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. what a cute loser, you thought. “i am so in your league park don’t even.” you replied, elbowing him softly in a playful way. jisung looked down at the sidewalk, cheeks flushed. 

first kiss. after your first date with jisung the two of you went on three more and talked so much over the phone. at some point everyone around you two was convinced that you were dating but of course, you were just two fools who didn’t know that you liked one another. 

“i mean i don’t even think he’s considering these actual dates, you know?” you said, painting your nails next to your roommate, yizhuo, for whatever reason she was convinced that he had the fattest crush on you but you could beg to differ. “he literally said he was so scared to talk to you, if that doesn’t scream into you i don’t know what does” she sighed out, crossing her arms and sinking further into the couch. you sighed and threw your head back in frustration, why couldn’t he just tell you how he felt?

“i just have no idea how to say it you know, besides there’s no point she does not like me” jisung groaned out, making both jaemin and chenle eye one another. chenle rolled his eyes and sighed, “you take this one” he waved off at jaemin who sighed as well. “if she wasn’t into you do you really think she would’ve gone on like five dates with you?” he looked at jisung who only frowned slightly. “i don’t know! maybe she’s just being nice” he said, pacing around the room once more which made chenle even more frustrated. jisung had been going on for about an hour now and he was tired of it. “dude if you really wanna know her apartment isn’t like far from here, just go” chenle replied, scrolling through his phone mindlessly. 

if chenle were looking at jisung he would see that something clearly was put in his mind, “you’re right..” he mumbled. before jaemin and chenle knew it, jisung was putting on his shoes and grabbing his coat, heading out the door. “dude it’s raining!” chenle shouted, making jisung shake his head, “i’ll be fine!” jisung was indeed not fine because after running to your apartment he was sure there was water in his socks. it didn't help that it was cold outside so his bones were quite frozen. 

in the middle of your conversation you and yizhuo heard frantic knocking on the front door. “what the hell..” you mumbled, glancing at the door then yizhuo. she sank further into the couch and shook her head, “you get it! you’re already standing up” she pointed and you sighed at her childishness. you walked over to the door, opening it to reveal jisung, drenched from head to toe. he seemed out of breath, like he had ran here. 

“oh my god jisung come in” was all you could say as he came in, still shivering. luckily you still had a towel hanging so you draped it over, patting his hair dry, then his face. as you held his face, he looked in your eyes, trying to build up the confidence to say something. you glanced over to the couch, yizhuo was long gone and probably ran to her room.

 “i’ll get you-“ 

“do you like me” 

you looked back to jisungs eyes, staring into them. “i..” you breathed out, unable to find words. “i really like you and i know you probably just don’t feel the same way but we could just be friends-“ “shut up park” you mumbled, leaning in to kiss him. his lips reciprocated, moving against yours. his lips were cold, yet still soft, the same with his hands as they found your waist, pulling you closer. you smiled softly as you pulled back, jisung wearing that same cute smile he always does. 

“does this mean we’re dating?” he breathed out and you nodded, laughing. “yes park, we’re dating.”

first time sleeping over. you and jisung had been dating for about 3 months, it was safe to say everything was smooth sailing. your friends are always sick of you two but that’s just because you loved kissing his pretty lips. yizhuo was especially tired right now because she had to stay in her room while you and jisung watched a movie in the living room. as the ending credits rolled you looked over to jisung who was sound asleep next to you, poor boy. before he came over he had said he was up all day for some labs he had to do but he still insisted on coming over to watch this movie with you. 

you patted his cheek softly, waking him up. he looked around confused then looked at you and frowned slightly. “i fell asleep didn’t i?” he sighed and you nodded, “it’s okay, you were tired don’t worry” you smiled softly, patting his head. the two of you sat like this for a couple seconds until you broke the silence. “you could.. sleep over. you’re too tired to go home” 

immediately jisungs cheeks flushed and you felt yourself melting a little. “uh.. yeah okay..” he cleared his throat, standing up to rub his palms on his sweatpants. “cmon” you smiled, leading him to the way to your bedroom. as the two of you walked in jisung shut the door behind you two, watching as you got into your bed, leaving space for him. jisung stood there awkwardly for a couple seconds and you sighed. “grow up park we’ve cuddled on the couch” you smiled, heart melting at his nervousness 

“yeah yeah..” he mumbled, walking over and slipping under the covers with you. he laid down, turning to face you. you smiled at his rosy cheeks. “hi” you breathed out, eyes not leaving his. “hi” he mumbled back, making you smile even more. you scooted closer to him and nuzzled your face in his chest. jisung hesitated before holding you closer in his arms. “night park” you muttered, making jisung smile softly. he rested his chin on the top of your head, “night baby.”

first time crying in front of the other. for the past week or so, you’ve been distant with jisung. there was no specific reason it was just because sometimes you have those days and strong people can’t always be okay. you didn’t want to burden jisung with this so here you sat, in a booth full of your friends, grilling meat and talking. you picked at the food on your plate and set your chopsticks down. 

jisung noticed and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “you tired?” he spoke, softly. you leaned back a little and looked in his eyes, full of worry. “yeah a little” a lie. he nodded and looked to everyone, “me and yn are heading out guys” he said, grabbing your hand so the two of you could leave. everyone said their goodbyes and you two left the restaurant. 

you found yourself telling jisung everything to the point where you thought you were burdening him. which is why you didn’t choose to tell him how stressed you had been lately. in hindsight it was the worst decision ever but you thought you were doing a good thing. the walk to his apartment was short and silent. as you two entered his apartment he helped you talk off your coat and hang it for you. 

jisung knew something was up, he knew you lied to him in the restaurant but he didn’t want to say anything in front of your friends because he believed it was a conversation the two of you should have alone. “i’m gonna go use the bathroom” you said, not looking at him. “wait” jisung stood in front of you, blocking your way. 

he looked down at you and frowned slightly. “did i do something wrong?” he breathed out and you furrowed your brows looking up at him. “what?” “you’ve just been so distant and i thought maybe today things would be fine and i guess not..” hearing him say those words broke your heart, he thought you were mad at him. the two of you stood in silence, jisungs eyes searching yours. 

the silence was only broken when you started crying. “hey hey hey..” jisung mumbled, pulling you into his arms. “i’m sorry i just i was so stressed out and i didn’t want to bother you” you spoke through broken sobs, jisung stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head. “you could never bother me, baby, don't think that,” he said, holding back tears of his own. how could he have let you think that way?

you pulled back and he wiped the tears off your cheeks, holding your face in his hands. his own eyes slightly glassy. “your problems are my problems and that’s how it’ll always be from now on, okay?” he spoke, looking into your eyes and you nodded, sniffling softly. “now cmon let’s get you something to eat” he smiled, grabbing your hand in his and leading you to his kitchen. 

first time saying i love you. the night before you and jisung celebrated your one year, it was everything you could’ve dreamed of. he took you to a nice fancy restaurant, then desert afterwards and finally you ended the night off with a walk around the city park. throughout the night only one thing was on your mind, you loved him. 

you loved every detail of him, how he lights up your day with his presence, how his nose scrunches when he smiles. everything. you knew deep down you did but last night sort of solidified it for you. you turned in bed to face him, fast asleep, making you smile softly.  

you pushed some of the hair off of his face, making his nose twitch a little. his eyes opened to see you, making him instantly smile. “good morning baby” he said, voice a bit raspy. “morning park” you smiled back, letting him pull you into his chest. his hand rested on your back, drawing small shapes. 

“you sleep well?” you looked up at him, him nodding and rested his chin on your head. “could sleep a little more” he mumbled, making you smile. “you can’t park, you have class at noon” you replied, jisung only groaning aloud in response. “just ten more minutes..” he muttered, holding you closer if possible. 

you two laid in that position for a couple more minutes until you leaned back a little to look up at him properly. you stared in his eyes and smiled softly, cupping his cheek. “i-“ “i love you” jisung breathed out. you stared back, shocked but a little proud? you didn’t think he’d have the guts to say it first. “you beat me to it” you mumbled, making him smile. “not gonna say it back baby?” he teased, leaned in to kiss your face all over. 

you giggled at his acts, feeling ticklish as his hands roamed your body to find your most ticklish spots. “i love you too park stop it!” you spoke through giggles making jisung laugh with you. he stopped to look at you, your flushed cheeks and lips that were pouted oh so softly. all he wanted to do was kiss you. and that he did. jisung always kissed you like his life depended on it and that wasn’t gonna change anytime soon. 

taglist : @kisseudoll @hyuckworld @lqfiles @cupidhoons @ronniee-26 @bywonyo @aerifim @17ericas @polarisjisung @sunghoonsgfreal

dream taglist

© all rights to sungbites 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost my works

[i-cant-sing]

i was just minding my business like scrolling to find new fics to read since i was so so bored and while i was finding some delicious fics (ahem ahem: yandere big brother bakugou x little sister reader) ur post suddenly idk the word (lumitaw (its a filo word)) and i was screaming and immediately dropped what i was supposed to read to read yours 😭😭😭

i got the worst memory ever to exist because i keep forgetting their names but i think i'll grasp them once the next chapter is out (hopefully) but yeaaah!!! baris reminds me of abbas in a way but ig he's a bit more.. brute yk what im talking about????? ig he's ok..

OH! and i have a theory about the painting, y/n's face getting smudged maybe because baldwin or SALAUDDIN decided to smudged it to forget how they look due to heartbroken (prob not baldwin,, but i feel like salauddin would do that ??) i guess im getting married again 😔😔 i feel like im betraying my pookie salauddin 💔💔💔🙏🙏 BUT ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THE UPDATE SNOW!!!! AMAZING AS ALWAYS!! can't wait for the next one already!! 😭😭😭 i think i'll send more of my thoughts if something crosses over my mind (prob when im in the shower)

ooohh i like your theory(portrait pictures at the end). i like it a lot. expanding on it:

Baldwin would probably cause the painting to be smudged because he's kissing it, kissing your lips, drunk off his mind, tears streaming down his cheek as he spends hours sitting in front of it, talking to the painting as if u still exist, begging u to come back from heaven, even apologising for all he's done, just please- come back, angel...

Meanwhile Salauddin would probably be staring at your portrait angrily. He understands why you had to leave but.... you couldnt have told him where you were goinh? Do you not think he couldve protected you? He wouldve used his whole army, gathered Muslims from all around the world to protect you. Did you... did you not have the least bit faith in him? deep down, he knows u did this to prevent a war between him and baldwin but.... Salauddin wouldve gone to war for you. Happily. This wasnt your decision to make alone. Now, he stands in front of your portrait, he has it in his palace now, and he doesnt say voice it out like baldwin, but he has complaints. HE keeps them inside, mentally talking to you, telling you just how stupid you were for sacrificing yourself, for jumping off that stupid cliff. How u shouldve just- just asked him for help ONCE, and he wouldve fought until his last breath if it meant keeping u safe. In his mind, u sacrificed yourself to protect Baldwin from murdering innocent muslims or anyone else u wouldve seeked help from.

And now? All Salauddin can do is pray for you. He wakes up late into the night and sits on the prayer mat, making dua for you for hours, reading Quran for you, has animals slaughtered on eid on your behalf, even doing charity and hajj (pilgrimage) on your behalf, just so that you can have more good deeds in your name. He still has the chess board u gifted him, but he's stopped playing chess. He never played the game again, it was only a painful reminder of you. The one person who he could never beat.

As for your painting, why it was smudged? Salauddin didnt want anyone to see your beauty, thats why he kept the portrait hidden in his room, but then he feared that one day when he's not around anymore, someone will see you. So, he used a rag soaked in turpentine to smudge your face, but couldnt do more than just the bottom half of your face. He thought that was fine, after all, thats how u did often appear when you were around, wearing a niqaab, a veil that covered your face.

Now that he looks at your eyes, he realises his mistake. He heard the wise tell him-

"Eyes are the windows to the soul."

He now knows it to be true.

This is what I think the portraits look like:

Notice that this is the earrings Salauddin gifted Y/n when she was in the market with him:

How Baldwin's been:

[greentea-and-honey]

literally fuck it here we areeeee. um the gravity falls hunger games au belongs to @aroace-get-out-of-my-face , i originally dmed this to her and she said i should post them so heeeeere we are. sorry thats its long i didnt want to post on ao3. licherally cannot stop thinking about this, its the only hunger games au that hasnt made me think suzanne collins was right to make sunrise on the reaping. if you want background, i highly suggest going to her blog and scrolling through the 'hunger games au' tag, its a fun read!!! okey dokey anywho:

“Be smart,” their mentor, a man who had insisted on being called ‘Nep’ had told Stan and Darlene. “Do what I told you to do, and don’t fuck this up.”

Darlene had frowned, because the strategy that Nep had insisted on for her interview had been to play up her youth and innocence, to really tug at the audience’s heartstrings and play the scared little girl who missed her family, but had a well of inner strength that she was going to draw from. Darlene had protested, wanting to paint herself as a fierce warrior, and could not be persuaded that she was going to be laughed off stage. She was fierce, sure, but she was also twelve years old. It was darkly comical, and had Stan been home with Ford, safe in their house, they would have looked sadly at each other during her desperate attempts to seem like a worthy opponent, instead of easy pickings.

“And you?” Nep glanced at Stan, and gave a sort of crooked half-smile. “You keep doing what you’re doing.”

“What I’m doing?” Stan repeated, surprised. “What…what’s that?”

“The cocky, ne’er-do-well persona you’ve been playing up since you walked on that stage,” Nep said. “I saw the Reaping. Volunteering for your brother gets you a lot of points from the Capitol right off the bat. And you’ve not shown any fear, at least on camera. You’ve spent most of it being insufferable to everyone but the Capitol. Frankly, you don’t need me for camera points.”

“Aw,” Stan had grinned. “You think I’m insufferable?”

Nep grinned, and Stan decided, not for the first time, that he liked Nep well enough. He had been the winner when Stan was just a kid, maybe six or seven years old. Nep had been fourteen at the time, a younger winner, and a lucky one. The games that year had been in a coastal arena, similar to home, and when a tsunami came and washed most of the tributes away, Nep had managed to tough it out, and then waited for most of the other tributes to kill each other before proving his skills with a knife, gutting a girl from District 7 with efficiency unlike anything Stan had ever seen before. 

Nep was a mentor now, and both he and Daphne were a bit surprised by his quiet nature. Nep was shyer than the cameras had implied. He tended to back away from any more interviews that focused on himself, and when asked about himself, his victories, or most strangely, ‘We haven’t seen your mother in a while, how is she?’ Nep would smile in a tense way, and say “We’re here to talk about my tributes, did you know Stanley is a talented boxer? And oh my, I’ve never seen anyone move quicker than Daphne.”

“This is the worst part,” Nep assured them, adjusting a heavy necklace around Daphne’s neck. “You get through this, it’s smooth sailing from here on out.”

“This dress itches,” Daphne whined, wriggling in a shimmering turquoise gown that reminded Stan of the tiny fish that danced in the tidepools back home. “I don’t wanna wear it.”

“I know, I know,” Nep said. “It’s not for long. Now listen close, the both of you. Stan, quit making eyes at Carla.”

Stan’s attention snapped to Nep. “‘I’m not doing anything.” 

Carla, halfway through brushing over Stan’s eyelid with some kind of shimmering powder, scoffed. 

“This is the Capitol,” Nep said. “These people have been following your journeys since you got up on that stage. Some of them are invested in you already. Your triumphs, defeats, the rest of it. This is the first and only time you’ll be able to speak to them directly like this. This is your chance to endear them. Follow my instructions, and you’ll only improve your chances.”

“I don’t wanna act like a scared little girl,” Darlene said. “I’m not scared.”

Nep’s face snapped to her, and for the first time, he looked well and truly frustrated. “Yes, you are,” he said tersely. “And if you’re not, you’re stupid. This is a game, Darlene, and you’re treating it like one. But it’s not a game for you. It’s a game for them. I’m in the business of keeping you two alive for as long as I can, but I can’t do that if you insist on sabotaging yourself! Play the damn game!” 

Darlene looked surprised, but went quiet. For the first time, Stan thought he saw nerves behind her eyes. Maybe they had always been there, hidden beneath the exterior of a little girl who had been spoiled rotten. He wondered if her family was crying for her back home, already preparing for her funeral, or if they were delusionally holding onto the same dream as she was–that she would be the youngest victor ever. 

“Stan,” Nep said, and Stan almost jumped. “Remember what we talked about?”

“My ne’er-do-well self?” Stan asked, and Nep nodded. “Right, got it. Um. Cool.”

Nep frowned, maybe hearing something in Stan’s voice that he himself had yet to identify. He nodded something at Darlene’s stylist, and the stylist pulled her off to the side, fussing with her hair. “You alright?” Nep asked Stan, lowering his voice.

“Yeah,” Stan said, and his voice sounded high-pitched. “Peachy.”

“Stan,” Nep said. “I’m on your side. I’m one of the only people in this godforsaken place that’s truly on your side. What’s wrong?”

Stan swallowed, suddenly feeling dangerously close to breaking. “I-I dunno if I can do this,” he whispered, wobbly. “It’s…it’s easy when no one’s directly looking at me, but I’ve seen the interviews, I know what it’s like. I don’t want to talk about Ford, I don’t want to talk about home, I don’t want-”

“Okay, okay,” Nep said, putting his hand on Stan’s shoulder. He was missing his pinky, which was strange, because he hadn’t lost it in the games. “Okay, deep breath. I know. Like I said, this is the worst part.”

“Second worst part,” Stan said. “You know, the games.”

Nep smiled thinly. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Shandra Jimenez is…she’s an interviewer. She’s going to ask those questions. The ones you don't want her too. That’s her job. And it’s a shitty one.”

Stan looked at Carla, suddenly nervous that Nep might have said something dangerous. But she smiled in agreement.

“She enjoys this, breaking down the weaker tributes,” Carla said. “But she doesn’t think you’re weak. She’s going to let you do this over the top persona you’ve been crafting because she likes it as much as everyone else.”

“Exactly,” Nep nodded. “Go with that. Just pretend it’s me or Carla you’re talking to. Not the whole Capitol. Play a role. That’s all this is, after all. A role. And that role might keep you alive.”

Please, Stan thought, almost amused. This idiot doesn’t even know he’s talking to a dead man.

But Nep had been kind. He had held Darlene’s hand when she stepped off the Capitol train and was failing in her attempts to not be scared. He had promised Stan that the first chance he got, he was going to find Ford and do everything he could to keep him out of trouble. He had been nice to the other mentors, who each had an exhausted look in their eyes as they marched their pigs to the slaughterhouse, even as other Career tributes sneered at him. He didn’t deserve to be stuck with a doomed and hopeless tribute. 

Stan nodded. “...okay,” he said. “Okay.”

Nep nodded once, tense, and Stan realized abruptly that there had been no winners from District 4 since Nep. They had all gotten pretty far, but were the first to go when the Careers inevitably turned on each other. Maybe he was imagining Stan’s grisly death now. The life of a victor suddenly seemed a lot less glamorous. 

“You’re going to do great,” Nep said. “Everybody already loves you.”

That seemed a bit silly and untrue, and Stan was already turning that final encouragement over and over in his head as he waited next to Darlene for the interview. Most of the tributes were silent and pale, staring at the ground or whispering to their district mates. Darlene was trying to make nice with the other Careers, far older than her and looking at her like she was a particularly feisty kitten. 

“Quit it,” Stan whispered to her, unable to watch the boy from District 1 barely conceal a laugh as Darlene bragged about her spear skills. “You’re making yourself a target.”

She glared at him, hostile and looking exactly like her brother. “At least I’m trying!” She hissed. “What are you doing? Moping?”

“I’m strategizing,” Stan said, and Darlene rolled her eyes. 

“My brother says you’re an idiot who doesn’t know a net from a knife,” she said, folding her arms.

“Yeah well, your brother still does the ‘L’ trick to figure out his right from his left,” Stan snapped, exhausted. “So there.”

Darlene opened her mouth, probably to argue more, but then paused, noticing something behind Stan. “Uh oh. Got a crier.”

Stan heard soft sniffling, and looked back to see a little boy, about Darlene’s age but no doubt half her physical strength, crying desperately, apparently unable to take the stress anymore. By Stan’s count, he looked to be in District 10. He was in a bright red suit, tears dripping from his ears, desperately trying to reign them in.

His district mate, an older girl with wild dark hair mostly concealed by a red silk scarf, was kneeling next to him, looking nervous. “Stop crying,” he heard her say, in a fervent and distinctly uncomforting sort of way, but he couldn’t really blame her. “Stop crying, they’ll see.”

“I’m trying,” the little boy said, hiccuping and only working himself up more. “I’m trying, I’m trying, Emma May, I wanna go home–”

Emma May’s ears were inflamed around her drop earrings, and Stan wondered if she had been forced to pierce her ears right before the interview. Her dress was bright red, flowing around her like a slit throat.

Stan saw a few Capitol camera people perk up at the sound of muffled sobs, and whisper to each other. Stan’s heart dropped. Crying was bad enough when you were reaped. But crying now, so close to the interview? Someone would whisper it in that witch’s ear onstage, and she would bring it up, goading the tribute to see if they would have another meltdown.

Darlene tutted something disapproving, and Emma May looked panicked, trying to shield the little boy with her body. The tributes from the lower districts looked sympathetic, but no one made a move to help. Stan could hardly blame them. 

The Careers looked back, starting to get curious, and Stan could bear it no longer.

“Gotta piss!” He said loudly, stepping out of line. “I’ll be right back, just give me a second-”

“Get back in line,” a Peacekeeper growled, and all eyes were on Stan. All cameras too. 

“What, a man can’t piss?” Stan asked. “Thirty seconds in the bathroom, that’s all I ask. I won’t even wash my hands.”

Stan heard a few younger tributes giggle, and he grinned, playing it up. Nep wanted a show? He’d get a pre-show too. 

“Line,” the Peacekeeper growled, unamused. 

“I can even go in a corner real quick,” Stan said. “I mean, I’ve seen your buddies doing the same thing–”

The Peacekeeper drew a baton, and Stan backed away, hands up in surrender. He certainly didn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of those again. “Okay, okay! If I piss my pants onstage, it’s on you.”

He stepped back in line next to Darlene with an easy smile. She looked at him like he was crazy. “What was that?!” 

“Nothing,” Stan said, glancing back in line. The extra time had given the boy a chance to get a hold of himself, and while his face was ruddy, it should clear up by the time it was his turn onstage. Stan locked eyes with Emma May, and gave her a thumbs up with a smile. She looked perplexed, and glared back at him, suspicious.

“What was that?!” Darlene demanded again.

Stan shrugged, and she scowled. “You idiot. You can’t be making nice with lower districts, they’re always the first to go! You couldn’t do much worse than 10 either, even the 12s look stocky this year at least. If you don’t start making allies, you’ll be out faster than you can blink–”

“I’m not here to win,” Stan said, and then blinked. That was the first time he had said it out loud.

Darlene blinked, looking shocked. “What? But–”

“I’m here to play,” Stan said, falling back onto an easy smile, even if it felt plastic now. “That’s all a game is, right? Let’s try to have some fun with it.”

Darlene stared at him like he was insane. Maybe he was. He felt like it. “...whatever,” she decided. “Just…just don’t get in my way.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Stan muttered, and then the crowd outside, awaiting their final words, erupted in applause as Shandra Jimenez walked out onstage, grinning and waving at the audience.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she crowed. “Happy Hunger Games!”

“Showtime,” Darlene said quietly, and for once, Stan agreed.

All in all, District 4 was probably one of the best places to be when it came to the interviews. 

Stan was far enough back in line where he didn’t have to shoulder the monumental task of being one of the first tributes to face Jimenez and the entirety of Panem, but he was close enough to the front where the moneymakers wouldn’t become bored, and they would remember him if he made a big enough splash. Enough time to learn from the mistakes of his fellow tributes without stewing in nerves.

Not that there were many mistakes. The Careers from 1 and 2 had apparently been given media training, because they smiled and laughed with Jimenez without ever allowing the joke to be on them. They chatted without coming off as unserious, made threats to their fellow tributes that they could back up, and seemed almost good enough to be Capitol. Almost. Stan could see the edge on Jimenez, the tightening of her smile when the tributes tried to get too cozy. No matter what, they were still district trash. Distract trash that had been gussied up, but a polish turd was still a turd.

The District 1 boy in particular–Preston, Stan though his name was–was especially annoying. He had been the one laughing at Darlene. Stan already found him extremely grating.

By the time they dropped to 3, the difference between the Careers and the rest of the districts made itself apparent. For kids from 3, a notoriously weedy bunch due to a lifetime of bending over microchips in dusty sweatshops, they weren’t too bad looking. Maybe they hauled cargo, Stan didn’t know, but they were older and looked like they might get a few good hits in before they were taken down. Ada and Coil, Stan was pretty sure their names were.

But they were scared, even though they tried to hide it. Stan could see it in their eyes. They knew what awaited them in the games, and it struck them nearly insane with fear. But they answered their questions meekly, even as Ada picked at her painted nails and Coil kept looking around like a trapped bird.

It was funny, really, how Ford had complained that he should have been born in District 3. Stan, for his part, couldn’t imagine anything other than the coast. Life in 4 could be miserable, but a lifetime of painstakingly putting computers and heat-seeking missiles together as you breathed in silica seemed even more miserable. Coil was already clearly trying to hide a cough. 

“Let’s give him a hand, folks!” Jimenez said, and Coil walked offstage, clearly motioned over by his mentor. “And now, let’s get back to our final set of Careers. Everyone give a warm welcome to Darlene Crampelter of District 4!”

Darlene flashed Stan a winning smile, unafraid, and bounced up to the stage, her curls practically floating, gleeful and chomping at the bit to spill blood. The crowd roared, and Darlene waved to them, perfectly lady-like. To her credit, Stan couldn’t tell if she was truly that unafraid or just hiding her nerves extremely well. It could be either. He hoped it was the second, surely she wasn’t that stupid.

“Well, my dear,” Jimenez said as Darlene sat down. “You’ve had quite the journey. Your district has been struggling to pull in volunteers for the past few years, but now we have two! And you volunteered before the name was even finished being called! And not to mention, you are the youngest tribute in this year’s games!”

Darlene smiled. “I just couldn’t wait, I suppose. Can you blame me?”

“How do you like the Capitol, sweetie?” Jimenez cooed, and Darlene’s smile tightened slightly at being treated like a child.

“Oh, it’s dazzling,” she said. “You know, my grandfather visited the Capitol on business when he wasn’t much older than me. He used to tell me and my brother stories. He said that one day, we’d see it, and one day we might even live there.”

The crowd murmured in surprise, and though Stan didn’t doubt her story, he instantly winced. Darlene smiled, unaware of her faux pas, perhaps thinking everyone was quite impressed with her. But there was no admiration, only disgust. District trash, getting too big for her britches, thinks she’s one of us instead of an animal that we caged and then released to watch it die.

Jimenez stiffened, and leaned forward. She looked like a smiling shark. Stan had seen a few in his time. “And you’re not frightened to be the youngest tribute?” Jimenez asked. “Historically, anyone younger than fifteen doesn’t last long.”

Darlene scowled, straightening up. “I’m not afraid of anything, I–”

“RAH!” Jimenez said, jerking forward like she was about to lunge. Darlene flinched back on instinct, her eyes wide and confused at the sudden false attack. The audience roared with laughter, and Jimenez joined them. “Maybe you’re a little bit frightened, sweetie!”

Darlene blinked once, twice, and then realized the joke was on her. Her face flushed bright red, which only made the audience laugh harder. “That’s not fair, you don’t–”

“Oh, this is the games!” Jimenez cackled. “Fair doesn’t have much to do with it, seems like the odds might not be in this particular Career’s favor this year! Maybe you should have waited to see who was going to volunteer before you did it, right?”

Darlene tried to argue, but her words were lost among the shrieking hordes, jeering and finding her impending death absolutely hilarious. Something changed on Darlene’s face, a crack in her facade unlike anything Stan had seen before. She had been overwhelmed and frightened before, but that had been because she had stage fright, or was nervous about the Capitol’s over-the-top presence. Now, though, the crack was something deeper. A crack that made her realize that she was far deeper than she thought, and these people were not her friends. They weren’t even her enemies, not really. They didn’t give a shit about her. Stan didn’t think she had ever been faced with such indifference before.

Jimenez, maybe sensing that Darlene wasn’t going to give any more good content, spent the rest of the interview poking fun at her, asking her if she still smelled like fish, wondering aloud if District 4 was really Career material if this was the best they could offer. Finally, the bell chimed, and Jimenez smiled like they were great friends, shooing Darlene away. “That’s all the time we have for today, sweetie, good luck! Everyone clap for our youngest and, ah, bravest tribute!”

The audience erupted into raucous laughter, and Darlene flinched again. Stan saw Nep standing in the wings of the stage, frantically motioning for her to come offstage to him. After a long moment, she stood, head hung low, practically sprinting offstage to get to Nep. He tried to hug her, and she pushed him off.

“And next up, our second volunteer from 4,” Jimenez said. “Everyone please give it up for Stanley Pines!”

The crowd began to cheer, and Stan’s legs began to move on their own accord, carrying him up to the stage. He saw Carla in the front row, and she gave him a thumbs up, motioning for him to smile.

Something about seeing her there snapped Stan into performance mode. Nep said they needed a show. Fine. They were going to get a show. 

He grinned, cocky and relaxed, throwing out a far more exaggerated wave than Darlene had, unrestrained. The crowd went wild. Stan sat down in the chair, winking at Jimenez. She looked surprised, but didn’t comment on it. 

“So, our second volunteer,” she said. “And for your twin brother no less! Tell me, what was that like?”

Oh no. Knowing they were going to ask about that didn’t make hearing it any easier. “Well,” Stan said, with a shrug and a smile, hoping it still looked real. “When you’re a twin, you gotta share everything, you know? Birthdays, toys, achievements. Sometimes you want to strike out, be your own man, you know? Couldn’t let my nerd brother have all the glory.”

He found a camera and winked at it. “Hey, Ford, how’s it feel to be doing my chores? I’m living it up at the Capitol!”

The crowd cheered, and Jimenez laughed. “So how do you like the Capitol, then?”

She was trying to trip him up, get him to make the same mistakes that Darlene had. “Oh, man,” Stan said. “Incredible, it’s just incredible. You know I’ve never had turkey before? And on the train up here, the first thing I get is a turkey sandwich. You people have everything! Incredible!”

“You eat a lot of fish then?” Jimenez asked.

“Eat so much I’m probably half fish,” Stan said, and leaned forward. “How’s my breath?”

The crowd cackled, and Jimenez joined them. “Oh, just fine, Stanley, I promise.”

“Stan’s fine,” Stan said, and threw an easy grin at the audience. They whooped. “Horses too, never seen a horse before, and now I got to go right up to one and pet it.”

“They don’t have horses in 4?” Jimenez asked.

“What’s a horse gonna do, Shandra?” Stan asked, taking a risk with a first name. “Pull a cart through the ocean?”

The audience laughed, their biggest reaction yet. Jimenez looked slightly annoyed, but didn’t try to trap him or humiliate him. “So, how’d you like the horses?” 

“Oh, loved them,” Stan said, and tried to imagine he was talking to Ford. He would have loved the horses. He would have loved most of the Capitol if not for them wanting him dead. “It’s…their noses are like petting velvet, but their whiskers kinda feel like cat whiskers, you know? When I win, I want one of them in Victor’s Village. In my house. It can just walk around.”

“When you win?” Jimenez asked. “Awfully confident. What’s your strategy? Sources tell me that you may be from 4, but you’re not strictly Career trained, are you?”

There it was. She was trying to psych him out. Stan smiled back, unafraid. It wasn't like he meant any of it anyway. “I wouldn’t count anyone out of this game, Shandra. There’s a good crop this year, tell you that, and I gotta say I respect the competition. But I’m strong. I’m a heavy hitter. I’m not afraid to take a few blows. I’m a boxer, boxers gotta learn how to get hit and get back up. That’s me. I get back up. You don’t have any idea how valuable that skill is. Our strongest traits might not be the ones you see immediately. You know that, right? You’ve been doing this for, oh, a hundred years?”

The crowd howled, and Jimenez’s smile twitched. “Well, Stan–”

“And by the way,” Stan said, on a roll now. “By the way, you can’t count Darlene out either. What’d you expect, someone’s not gonna jump if you come at them? You’re lucky she didn’t punch you in the throat, that girl scares me. She's my biggest competition by far, I’m real lucky we’re district mates and she probably won’t go for me immediately.”

Jimenez’s face looked tight. “I don’t tell you how to do your job, so don’t tell me how to do mine.”

“Maybe if you did your job right I wouldn’t have to,” Stan said, and then instantly regretted saying it.

The crowd ‘ooh-ed’ appreciatively, and the bell sounded. Jimenez smiled, the shark look back. “Well, I suppose that’s all the time we have for today. I’d wish you luck, Stan, but it doesn’t seem like you need it.”

She didn’t implore the audience to cheer for Stan, but they did it anyway, whooping and hollering like he was the cure to all their ills. He winked again, and heard some more cheers and shrieks. It made him a little sick, but it wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t like he would ever see these people again. He was a dead man already.

Nep was still dealing with Darlene when he stepped offstage, and she was speaking quickly, almost nonsensically, and Nep was struggling to hide her from the camera. 

“My cat,” Darlene said, almost feverish. She was shaking, and Nep was desperately trying to calm her down. The cameras were sweeping the area like buzzards, looking for reactions. “My cat, h-he’s at home, I need to go home, no one will take care of him–”

“You think your dumb brother’s not gonna watch him?” Stan asked, and Darlene focused on him. He couldn't get her home, but he might be able to keep her from panicking too badly. It was oddly scary to see her so openly frightened. “Please, I bet that mangy thing is sleeping on his bed right now. You need to worry that he's gonna eat the cat food and not leave any for the damn cat.”

Darlene blinked, snapped out of her spiral, and glared at Stan. “I bet you already know what cat food tastes like,” she sneered, and Nep sent Stan a grateful look.

“You,” Nep said to him. “Just love to toe the line.”

The weight of what he had been saying, in front of all of Panem, crashed down on Stan. “Is…” he swallowed. “Am I going to get in trouble? Did I put Ford in danger?!”

Nep shook his head. “I don’t think so. It was a risk, but it paid off. It’s too much trouble to replace you now, and they would punish you for that kind of trangression. Not your family.”

“Okay,” Stan nodded, uneasy. “O-okay.”

Nep smiled at him, reaching forward to pat Stan on the shoulder. “You did good,” he said. “I’m proud of you. It’s not easy, but you were a pro up there.”

In spite of everything, Stan’s heart swelled at the praise. “...thanks,” he said. “Can we, um. Get out of these costumes?”

“It itches,” Darlene agreed, still looking shaken. Nep subtly drew her close, arm around her shoulder, and she didn’t pull away this time. 

“Alright,” Nep said, looking relieved to get out of there. “Let’s see what we can do about a change and a snack.”

By the time Stan was in more comfortable clothes, all of Carla’s hard work scrubbed off his face, the girl from 10 was on stage, looking bored with Jimenez’s antics.

“Any family watching back home?” Jimenez asked, prodding at her.

The girl, Emma May, shook her head stiffly. “My mama and daddy died some time ago. It’s been just me for a while. Don’t got no one waiting on me at home.”

“No one?” Jimenez asked, leaning forward, searching for a crack to spring upon. “There’s rumors that–”

“Just rumors, nothing more,” Emma May said placidly. “You oughta know about rumors, Miss Jimenez. Why, if I believed every rumor I ever heard about you, I bet it would paint quite the unflattering portrait.”

The audience tittered, slightly less entertained when District 10 trash was poking at their beloved host, but amused all the same. Jimenez almost looked exhausted by this routine. Stan wondered if other tributes had had the courage to bite back at her. He hoped so.

“What makes you think you can win?” Jimenez asked. “Especially with no one back home rooting for you.”

Emma May’s face pinched, and for a second Stan thought she was done for, but she smoothed her skirt out. “I’m fighting for myself, and that’s enough. And I’m from 10. That ain’t a weakness, it’s a strength. We grow up ‘round life and death. I seen death a million times over before I was able to speak. We kill, not ‘cause we wanna, but ‘cause it’s our job. I seen blood, I seen guts, I seen bone marrow cracked open and spilled out for the cattle dogs to lick up. I've killed animals, for mercy, food, or ‘cause they was coming at me. And people are just a different type of animal. I ain’t scared to kill. I’m only scared to die. And a cornered, scared animal is the most dangerous type.”

Jimenez blinked, maybe not expecting that answer. Stan certainly didn’t, and the crowd whispered nervously. 

Emma May looked sharply at the camera, sensing that she had the floor completely. “And if you wanna talk about rumors,” she said. “Why don’t you show the unedited footage of my reaping–”

The bell sounded abruptly, though Stan was pretty sure she had about thirty seconds left on the interview. “That’s all our time!” Jimenez said quickly. “Thank you for joining us, Emma May Dixon!”

Emma May frowned, but did not argue. Almost serene, she stood up and walked off the stage. They clapped, but no one cheered. 

Stan got the sense they were afraid.

*** *** ***

Nep was about to leave Stan and Darlene’s cozy prison cell disguised as an apartment for the day when Stan stopped him, clutching six envelopes. 

“Stan?” Nep asked, looking perplexed. “You’ll want to at least try to get some sleep, the games are tomorrow–”

“Can you get to District 4 if you took a train right now?” Stan asked.

Nep blinked. “I…probably? It’d be an all-night train, for sure, I’d get there real early. I don’t think I’m technically supposed to leave though.”

“Will you get in trouble for it?” Stan asked. 

Nep paused, considering it. “...no, I don’t think so. Why–”

Stan shoved the envelopes into Nep’s hand. “I need you to take these to my family.”

Nep blinked. “What? But-”

“There’s one for everyone,” Stan said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “Ma and Pa, Shermie and his wife and kid, Ford of course–”

“Stan,” Nep said slowly. “If I leave, I won’t be able to see you off tomorrow before you go into the games. I know Darlene doesn’t care, but I figured you would–”

“I want them to have these before I go,” Stan said. “I…I asked them not to watch me.”

Nep looked even more confused, and then he frowned. “...you don’t think you can win.”

Stan said nothing. 

“Why…?” Nep shook his head. “Stan…”

“I’m not gonna,” Stan gestured vaguely. “You know, I’m not gonna step off the platform before the countdown finishes. I won’t seek out the Careers or anything like that. But I won’t…I can’t do it, Nep, I can’t kill someone.”

“I didn’t think I could either,” Nep said, and Stan shook his head.

“It’s not that, I…I can laugh and joke, right? Sure, whatever, but I didn’t come here because I thought I could win. I came here because I knew Ford would lose. And I…I couldn’t let that happen. I just couldn’t,” Stan whispered. “And I…I don’t want him to watch me die.”

“You’re not going to–” Nep started, and then realized he couldn’t make that promise. “Don’t count yourself out.”

“I don’t want to be in at all,” Stan said. “I don’t want–I don’t want to play at all. I just…”

Stan swallowed hard, suddenly dangerously close to crying. “...I’m tired, Nep. I just want this to be over.”

Nep said nothing for a long moment, and then moved forward suddenly, hugging Stan tightly.

It was like the floodgates burst open. 

Stan choked once, twice, and then wrapped his arms around Nep tightly, unable to hold back his sobs, terrified and exhausted in equal measures. He never thought he would miss home this badly. He had spent most of his life wanting to take to the ocean and see what lay beyond Panem. But now there was nothing he wanted more in the world than to be back in a bed that was too small for him, hearing the ocean whisper outside his window, Ford in the bunk above him.

“I’m sorry,” Nep whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Stan wondered if he had grieved for every tribute he had waved goodbye too. It seemed likely. Nep was too soft to be a mentor. And yet they kept parading him out. 

“I won’t be able to see you off,” Nep said again, pulling back to brush some hair out of Stan’s eyes.

“That’s okay,” Stan choked, though it didn’t feel okay. “I just…I want them to have it before it starts. Please.”

“...okay,” Nep said, taking the envelopes. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” Stan said, relieved. 

“...good luck, Stan,” Nep said. “You’re a good kid.”

And when Nep said it, Stan could almost believe it.

*** *** ***

There was someone walking up to Shermie’s house, Ford realized, as he walked back there.

He had been living with Shermie since Stan was dragged away, unable to take Ma and Pa’s different approaches to grief. Ma spent her days tirelessly cleaning the house, buzzing with a strange and stressful energy, and Pa shut down entirely. He wasn’t working, either in fishing or his black market pawn shop he ran from the basement. 

Shermie, at least, had to pretend to be functional. He had a wife and baby to look after, and he had been unable to refuse Ford’s pleas to sleep on his couch, just for a little bit. Just until something changed.

Ford made himself useful. He helped Nora around the house, went with Shermie to help on the boats, even though he was terrible at it. He watched the baby, and found himself absurdly jealous that his nephew was perfectly cheerful, completely unaware of the horror show playing out within his family. 

Last night, Ford and Shermie had gotten in a fight over something or other, tensions high and everyone already grieving. Ford had taken it too far, and yelled at Shermie for how cruel he was to have a baby, to bring another kid into this goddamn world that needed more blood to oil their machine.

Shermie had gone quiet, and Ford’s face had burned. “I-I didn’t mean–”

“Take a walk,” Shermie said. “Go cool off before we both say something else we regret.”

And Ford had taken that as an invitation to walk around 4 all night, seething and panicked the entire time. 

And now there was a man outside Shermie’s house, hours before Stan was set to be released in the arena, to kill and be killed.

He looked nondescript, with thick black hair that hung just above his chin, tan skin and dark eyes. He was wearing long sleeves, even in the hot July early morning, but when he saw Ford, he perked up and waved. 

Ford jogged forward, suddenly recognizing him. The mentor for this year, Neptune Garza, smiling nervously like he thought he might be attacked. “You must be Stanford,” Neptune said, nodding. “It’s nice to officially meet.”

“Mr. Garza,” Ford said, feeling sick. “I-is Stanley alright, why are you here–?!”

“Stan’s fine,” Neptune said. “You can call me Nep. Everyone does. Hey, your brother wasn’t lying about the six fingers.”

Ford frowned, but Nep smiled, holding up one of his hands. The pinky was missing. “Ever consider donation?”

“Um,” Ford said.

“Sorry, people keep telling me I’m not funny, I should listen to them,” Nep said. “He wanted me to give you this.”

He extended a hand out to Ford, holding a thick envelope. Ford took his, seeing his name on the front in Stan’s handwriting. “W-what’s this?” 

“A letter,” Nep said. “He has them for everyone in your family. He wanted me to deliver them in person, before the games started.”

“Why?” Ford asked. Nep shrugged.

Ford stared at the letter, tracing his name with his finger. A flash of anger went through him, sudden and sharp. “How could you just let this happen?”

Nep looked confused. “What?”

“How could you just let this happen?!” Ford demanded. “Year after year, sending people to their deaths. And you’re okay with it? You just let them kill people?! You’re going to let them kill my brother! You’re going to let them murder him! We need to do something, we have to do something, we have to stop them-!”

Nep suddenly covered Ford’s mouth with his hand, looking panicked. Ford tried to smack his hand away, but Nep held fast. “What the hell’s the matter with you?!” He demanded. “Are you crazy?! You don’t know a damn thing about what happens to you when you speak like that. Are you trying to get yourself killed?! Your family?! Stan?!”

Ford managed to smack Nep hand away, glaring at him. Nep glared back, and held up his hand with the missing pinky. “This is the least of their punishments. They go for the people you love. They pick apart your head, disfigure you, turn you into their lapdog. You want to help your brother? You shut up and keep your head down.”

Ford blinked, startled. Nep looked surprised with himself after a moment too, and hid his hand behind his back. “...what…” Ford started, and then re-gathered his courage. “What happened?”

Nep shrugged, eyes distant. “...I said no to something I shouldn’t have, when I was around your age. A lot of people paid the price.”

“But…” Ford said. “You were a Victor then. They leave you alone after you win.”

Nep shook his head. “They bring me out every year, to parade me around so I can watch my tributes die. That’s the rest of my punishment. They’ve made a damn good lapdog out of me. You don't say no to the Capitol. I learned that the hard way.”

“...it’s supposed to be over,” Ford said weakly. 

Nep smiled, and it reminded Ford of a grinning skull. “My games were almost a decade ago,” Nep said. “I’m still there. Every night, I’m back. Every night I’m surrounded by people who want me dead, people who are dying, and a gleeful audience who’d toss me into hell if they thought it might stave off boredom. I never left. I’m still there, fighting, cold, and terrified.”

Ford felt sick. “Why…why are you telling me this?”

“Because whether your brother wins or not,” Nep said. “He’s gone. He’s already dead in that arena. And if he survives, the version of him that comes home will be a stranger. You’ll still have to grieve him. And the faster you come to terms with that, the easier this will be for you. Trust me. I’ve seen it before.”

“That’s not true,” Ford said weakly. “You haven’t seen anyone win.”

“I’ve seen others win,” Nep said. “I’ve seen myself win. It’s not worth much. Sometimes it just takes away whatever you’re fighting for. So don’t be the thing that makes them take whatever he has. Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not stupid,” Ford said. “And I can’t…I can’t. I can’t just sit around and do nothing. I can’t try to convince our neighbors to send him sponsorships because that’s all they can do. I can’t watch TV and just…just watch them die. I have to do something. I have to. It’ll kill me, Nep, watching this helplessly, it really will.”

Nep said nothing, looking nervous. Even in the early morning, he already looked uncomfortable in long sleeves. “...there’s a rumor,” he said, and then shut his mouth, looking tense.

Ford stepped forward. “...a rumor?”

“...yes,” Nep said, looking reluctant. “I heard it some time ago, and then never again. That…that District 13 is still alive.”

Ford blinked. “They…they bombed 13 into oblivion before the Capitol was even the Capitol.”

“Yes,” Nep said, nodding. “So it’s just a rumor. A rumor that they retreated underground and formed a resistance. A rumor that they’re waiting for the right time to strike, watching year after year. A rumor that…that they live north, in the wilds, in the wastelands. Dangerous to set out there alone. Not even because the Capitol will kill you and everyone you love, though they will. But there’s abandoned mutts out there, wild beasts, and the people who live there are not…friendly to outsiders. But you never, ever heard that from me. Alright?”

Ford nodded fervently, something like hope swelling up in his chest. “Alright.”

They stood there in silence for a minute, and then Nep offered three more letters to Ford. “I’ve already placed the ones for your parents in their mailbox. Hand these to the rest of your family?”

“I will,” Ford said, taking the envelopes. He paused. “...do you think Stan can win?”

“...it doesn’t matter what I think,” Nep said. “What matters is if he thinks he can.”

*** *** ***

Ford,

Sorry to make fun of you on live television. I figured I could get one dig in. I’m not really that sorry.

I AM sorry for breaking your project. I know you don’t believe me, but I want you to know it was an accident. I would never do that to you, no matter how afraid I was of being left behind. I guess I can’t really blame you for wanting to do it. I don’t know if Pa’s plan of moving up through districts was even possible, but you deserved to try. If anyone deserved it, it would be you. And I spoiled that for you.

I don’t regret volunteering. I never did for one moment. I would have done it a million times over to keep you from all this. I’m sure you’ve seen it on TV by now. Trust me, I know I make it look easy, but it’s not. I miss home. I miss the ocean. I miss hearing Ma spouting bullshit to her clients. I even miss the smell of fish. It’s crazy what things make you homesick. Most of all, I miss you. I think I always knew it would be the case.

I’m okay, though. Nep’s cool, and Darlene’s not as obnoxious as I thought she would be. There’s a makeup artist named Carla who’s been assigned to me, and she’s pretty cool too. I think it’s some kind of Capitol University assignment, but she’s treating me like a person, which is nice. I really don’t want you to worry too much.

Ford, you’re my best friend in the whole world, the best brother someone could ever hope for. I know we’ve been in a bad place this year, and I wish I could have fixed it. But I don’t hate you for it. I was never even angry at you for it. I know this letter isn’t the same as me saying things face to face, but I hope it counts for something.

Please don’t watch the games. I know they make you turn on the TV, but don’t look. I know you’ll want to, and you’ll think you’re a terrible person if you don’t watch every awful thing happening. But please. I don’t want you to. Please don’t make yourself watch. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something awful was the last way you remembered me. 

I love you, Sixer. Stay safe. Stay alive. Stay smart. Stay weird.

Your brother,

Stan.

[thespiderwhisperer]

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL BAT APPRECIATION DAY!!!!!!!

ive kinda been lagging behind on posting, like, actual content/art but yall get the extra-special grim art for today now lol

woe, color wheel challenge masters be upon ye!!

i started this back in september, soon after i started playing FL, and worked on it for a few months till i ended up submitting it as a school assignment to give me the motivation to finish it dhxbh

since theres. a lot going on here ill give yall a handy dandy little list of who's who lmao:

red: mr hearts/apples- common vampire bat. holding the cleaver.

mr c_____s [SMEN Spoilers]- little golden mantled flying fox. holding the candles.

orange: mr fires- painted bat. angy dieselpunk-y guy.

mr cups- canyon bat (has since been changed to ghost-faced bat). came in 15 mins late with neathbucks coffee.

yellow: mr pages- hoary bat. currently writing a new dictionary on the scroll.

mr spices- mexican long-tongued bat. blep.

green: mr veils- spectral bat. angy grinch beast.

light blue: mr mirrors- ghost bat. staring into your soul.

mr iron- hammerhead/hanner-headed bat. wearing diamond armor for +10 defense.

dark blue: mr stones- cave nectar bat/dawn bat. is way too close to these plebians.

mr eaten- barbastelle bat. dead both inside AND outside!!

purple: surprise oc cameo!! mr vials, aka the master that asher turns into after his ambition- ozark big-eared bat. can hear you falsifying compendiums of statistical observations.

mr chimes- no specific bat species because. well. if you know you know i guess. carrying its lantern from the grand clearing-out!!

pink: mr wines- giant golden-crowned flying fox. spilling its drink and also blep-ing.

mr t_______t [Railway Spoilers]: no specific bat species; they're just baby, your honor. also blep, runs in the family i guess

-

i think thats it theres probably something ive forgotten about xd. this silly little browser game officially gave me a special interest in bats so im. throwing my autism at yall now via art form ig lmao. nowadays im more fixated on my human blorbos but the master obsession is still. simmering. in the background. awaiting a reckoning that will not be postponed indefinitely or smthn idk

[luv-sturno]

IF YOU ONLY KNEW - C. STURNIOLO

PART ONE : NEW PLACES, NEW FACES.

chris sturniolo x reader.

summary: After moving to Boston for a fresh start, you unexpectedly meet Chris Sturniolo at a cozy café, where a playful argument over a seat sparks the beginning of something new.

.ᐟ playful argument, fluff. (i think thats all chat)

wc: 1.1k

It was a Tuesday when you moved to Boston. grey skies overhead, your car stuffed with bags and boxes, and that low buzz of uncertainty that never quite goes away when you're doing something big. You weren’t sure if it was bravery or recklessness, but you needed a change, and this city felt like a fresh start.

You had just signed a short-term lease on a small apartment not far from the city center. The floors creaked a little too much, and the kitchen was about the size of a walk-in closet, but it was yours. You liked that. You were chasing something new, and while you didn’t know what exactly, the idea of figuring it out was comforting enough.

After three exhausting hours of hauling furniture and the essentials into your new place. thank you, caffeine and stubborn determination. you stood in the center of the living room, hands on your hips, and let out a long breath.

“Alright,” you said aloud to no one. “Let’s do this.”

The next day, the city was still damp from the rain, but the sky had cleared to a soft blue that made everything feel a little more possible. You decided to walk around and get familiar with the neighborhood. You grabbed your jacket, earbuds in, playlist queued up, and just wandered.

That’s how you ended up in front of the small café on the corner of 6th and Beacon. a cozy little place with a teal-painted door and mismatched chairs on the patio. “Lola’s,” the sign read in cursive gold.

Something about it felt like a good idea.

Inside, it smelled like cinnamon and fresh espresso. The barista greeted you with a warm smile, and you ordered a chai latte, eyes scanning the interior. It was the kind of place that made you want to write poetry or start a novel. tiny plants lined the window sills, books were stacked on shelves in the corners, and soft indie music played low in the background.

You found a seat near the window and pulled out your phone, scrolling aimlessly until a voice broke through.

“You’re in my seat.”

You looked up.

He stood there in a grey hoodie, the hood pulled halfway up, messy hair peeking out. Blue eyes. Soft but curious. There was a playful smile tugging at his lips like he wasn’t entirely serious, but not entirely joking either.

Your brow furrowed. “I… didn’t see a name on it.”

He grinned, stepping forward a bit. “It’s kind of an unofficial thing. I always sit here.”

You blinked, not recognizing him, but something about his presence felt familiar. Not in a ‘have we met?’ kind of way, more like ‘have I seen you in a dream?’

You tilted your head. “Guess you’ll have to find a new favorite.”

The boy let out a laugh, low and warm, and plopped down in the chair across from you instead. “Touché.”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. “You just gonna sit there?”

“Yep.”

You looked around. “There are literally five empty tables.”

“And yet, here I am.” He sipped from a cup you hadn’t even noticed him holding. “You new around here?”

You hesitated. “That obvious?”

He nodded. “You’ve got ‘I don’t know where the hell I am’ energy. It’s not a bad thing. Just… noticeable.”

You laughed despite yourself. “Yeah, just moved in yesterday.”

He leaned back in his chair, like that explained everything. “That tracks.”

You waited, then finally asked, “So do you always interrogate strangers who steal your ‘unofficial’ spot?”

He smiled. “Only the ones who look like they might be cool.”

You tried not to blush, but something about the way he said it made your stomach do this annoying little flip. “Well, thanks… I think?”

He stuck out a hand. “Chris.”

You shook it. “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated. “Nice. I like it.”

The way he said it, soft, a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, it made your cheeks feel warm.

You tried to focus on your latte. “So, Chris, what do you do when you’re not guarding café chairs from unsuspecting newcomers?”

He grinned. “Mostly film dumb videos with my brothers and make fun of each other. Occasionally eat an entire pizza by myself. You know, standard Boston guy stuff.”

You laughed, unsure if he was joking. “Videos?”

“Yeah. Me and my brothers, we’re on YouTube. TikTok too. It’s kind of our thing.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Wait, like the Sturniolo triplets?”

Chris looked mock-offended. “You didn’t recognize me immediately? Wow. Wounded.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “I knew you looked familiar.”

He shrugged. “We get that a lot. I’m the better-looking one, if that helps.”

You rolled your eyes. “Totally unbiased opinion, right?”

“Obviously.”

There was a pause, not awkward, just... present. He looked at you like he was trying to figure you out, but not in a creepy way. Like he was genuinely curious. It was kind of nice, actually. Not a lot of people looked at you like that.

“So,” he said, leaning forward, arms on the table. “What brought you to Boston?”

You hesitated for a second, then figured honesty couldn’t hurt. “Needed a change. Old place wasn’t it anymore. I wanted to be somewhere that felt alive.”

He nodded slowly, like he got it. “Boston’s definitely alive. Sometimes loud as hell, but yeah, alive.”

You sipped your latte, eyes meeting his over the rim of your cup. “And you? You’ve always lived here?”

He nodded. “Born and raised. Sometimes I think about leaving, but… it’s hard to walk away from something that shaped you.”

You liked the way he said things. There was meaning tucked into his words, even if he pretended to be laid-back.

Something about that made you want to know more.

Over the next hour, the conversation flowed in a way that surprised you. It wasn’t just small talk; it was real. You talked about music, movies, the weird ways people show they care. He told you about filming content with his brothers, how chaotic it could be but also how much it meant to him. You told him about your writing, your tendency to people-watch, and how you liked to collect moments like keepsakes.

He listened. Really listened.

And then, just like that, it was time to go.

Chris stood up, stretching. “Same time tomorrow?”

You blinked. “What?”

He gestured to the table. “Gotta defend my chair. Can’t let you have it two days in a row.”

You smirked. “I think I’m winning that war.”

“We’ll see about that.”

He grinned, then gave you a little wave as he headed out, disappearing into the flow of the city like he’d always belonged there.

You stayed seated for a minute longer, your latte now cold.

Same time tomorrow.

You didn’t want to overthink it.

But still, you smiled.

TO BE CONTINUED...

.ᐟ HII EVERYONEE! sosos sorry for not being online much, i lowk got a concussion on friday as i was finishing this part up.. BUT ITS OK WE HAVE FAITHHH anyway im gonna try to upload the next part as fast as i can. thank you so much for all the support and patience!! love u cutiess 💋

[lycanthian]

so today i was sitting in my game engines class (basically intro to game programming) and im just doing fuck all on my phone waiting for my game files to zip and. we have like a forum where we post our game design assignments and stuff and my professor is idly scrolling thru it and looking at freshmen stuff and he pulls up my profile and looks at a bit of my stuff before zooming in on my profile and going like "whats this"

which for the record.

and im just like oh its my silly guy and go back to doing fuck all and i start doodling absentmindedly on ms paint as my file is still zipping

(image for ref)

and my professor like MATERIALIZES behind me. mind you there is only like four people in the lab and were all just doing our own things. and my prof stares at me screen for a minute and hes like "i need to run a test on you". which like. thats unnerving! im intrigued. he goes back to his backpack by his desk and rumnages thru it for like a straight minute before coming back with something in his hand.

and he gets like super serious and quiet. hes like "do you know what this means." and he produces a lanyard from his hand and like stretches it out so the words are legible and. in big bold letters. "ANTHROCON".

and i stare at it for a minute before being like "yeah" bc what else was i supposed to do, lie? after he saw my multiple drawings of my fursona? and he just nodded and went and put it back in his bag and then my file finished zipping and i left. i later told my friends about it and they all went fucking insane. i have not laughed abt something so hard w a friend in a very long time

[mikewheelerdefender2]

byler proof post because i’ve been on my byler hyperfixation here lately (i’m slowly turning my page into a byler page but i’m still very obsessed with percy jackson)

number 1.

personally i think that Mike is queer. the only issue he has is the internalized homophobia. Will has been confirmed gay. Noah Schnapp himself said it. Two(possibly)queer characters that have been friends since childhood? definitely seems like something that could be romantic.

number 2.

Noah Schnapp almost single handedly confirmed byler during an interview in october 2024. He said that lucas and dustin were kind of a duo and mike and will were kind of a duo. he also said that YOU COULD NEVER TELL IF IT WAS SOMETHING ROMANTIC. mileven shippers will look you dead in the eyes and say “oh well that doesn’t mean anything” which is SUCH bs.

number 3.

Finn and Noah are such byler shippers. if you haven’t seen the casts reaction to the mileven scene in season 4 where el is in the upside down and mike is talking to her, i suggest you watch it. finn looks disgusted. now i will not say that this means he dislikes mileven. it could be him criticizing his acting (which personally i thought was amazing), but the rest of the cast there wasn’t also super ecstatic about it either. but any time you hear noah and finn talk about byler, they get all giggly and shi. like do you guys know something we don’t? /j cause they obviously do but yk.

number 4.

david harbour said that byler wouldn’t happen. this is the same guy that back after season 3 said that hopper was “100% dead.” episode 2 of season 4. incase you guys missed it, HOPPER WAS ALIVE. so based on the past, that is one of my biggest byler proofs.

number 5.

this one could be wrong, but i’m going off of details in the show. in season 1, everyone called joyce delusional for thinking that will was still alive out there. all the anti-bylers and other milevens say that byler shippers are delusional. I CALL BS. WE ARENT DELUSIONAL.

number 6.

the van scene. THE FUCKING VAN SCENE. oh where do i even begin. the painting lets start there. Will gave mike the painting, and Mike was OVER THE GOSH DAMN MOON. “El commissioned it.” face drops. SO BECAUSE YOUR LITERAL GIRLFRIEND “COMMISSIONED” THE PAINTING, YOU SUDDENLY ARENT AS EXCITED? i call bullshiat. Mike constantly staring at will’s lips? GAY🫵. thats not even something exclusive to the van scene. that has happened so many other times. which leads me to

number 7.

the movie theatre in season 3. “you okay?” IN HIS FACE BLUSHING STARING AT HIS LIPS. THATS NOT CASUAL.

number 8.

in season 2, i don’t remember the exact episode, but mike grabs will’s hand when he’s freaking out. later on when he’s doing the morse code telling them to close the gate, if you pay VERY close attention, the only part of his body that isn’t possessed is the hand that mike grabbed. (also completely unrelated but s1 and 2 byler is called miwi and s3 and 4 byler is byler there’s no argument.)

number 9.

i have talked about this before. the fruit metaphor. i have reblogged the original post and have went into small detail on my page. just scroll a bit.

number 10.

the fight/breakup scenes. when el dumps mike, he makes the most disgusted face and literally goes home and just starts talking shit basically. when mike and will have their fight in the rain, mike immediately goes running after will. coincidence i think not.

there is so much more but its late and i have to clean tomorrow because my bsf is coming over friday so i may continue this at another time. BYLER IS ENDGAME IDGAF

[pidgefudge]

ideas i have been cursed with from scrolling various fashion tags:

- denim jacket with embroidered exposed circuits and wiring (huge open back panel + one on the upper right arm + heart monitor on left pocket) (and maybe something else idk)

- metal sonic hoodie (self explanatory)

- that frog eye baseball cap!!

- more fingerless gloves (using those mesh pieces i cut off of my old leggings) (and also some skeleton ones) (thirdly using those cool sturdyish black gloves that im not supposed to cut up)

- leg warmers.... for shorts if i never foray into skirts

- cool patchy jeans (could make some to pair with the denim jacket also)

- i am solidly a sneakers guy but boots do look so cool and theres so many cool ways to style them....

- backpack out of old jeans (this one was a meme but like. seemed cool. just fold the legs up and attach and the waist acts as the opening and the legs r the straps)

- hospital wristband cuff for when i get top surgery

- bat/dragon wing hoodie.. actually i have a hoodie thats like white and light blue wispy tye dye sorta pattern i think that would benefit from some feathery/angel wings. and also gold stars im gonna put gold stars on it

- bleach painting shirts (some ideas in my sketchbook)

- the half and half metal sonic blueprint t shirt idea i came up with awhile ago (in the sketchbook)

- adding cool white borders to my black jackets with dental floss (in the sketchbook as well)

- more that ive forgotten but will come back to add when i remember

[james-is-here]

EHEM I need to rant about this and you're my favourite kpop writer so-

Imagine member reader who just CAN NOT be serious about his social media. He has 3 accounts on every platform, 1 for that's literally just him being an idol and shit, and 1 where he stalkes stays edits/posts about him and comments as if he's a fan and occasionally posts memes. One time he fucked up and sent a post that was supposed to be on meme account on idol account and fans go absolutely insane like "wtf is this??".

But on the 3rd one he's sooo troll-y. He pretends to be a fan account of himself and or the group and just randomly takes videos of himself or the group to post, again, acting like a fan. So stays are like "OMG DUDE WHERE DID YOU GET THIS STUFF FROM" and "OMG SOURCE?!?!" but people get suspicious when he's just like 🤷‍♂️. And they keep asking where these videos/photos are coming from and he's just like "just trust me bro🙌" until he gets like scolded by one of the members.

(I'm so sorry I didn't mean to rant like this I just thought it was so funny and needed to tell SOMEONE)

Omg wait that is so adorable and hilarious. Also knowing I'm your favorite makes me so giddy.

So Mn has three pages, his page he posted with the others, a private account, and a fan account.

He had just posted a slideshow of photos from an event he went to then ended up in a scrolling spiral, just watching random videos and he comes across an edit of him and Felix being sassy together and he giggles softly as he opens the comments and he's reading the comments and one said "Sass Kings" and Mn couldn't help himself and commented his reply "We slay." and then he just goes on to the next video.

A few minutes later, his notifications are going off and people are replying to his comment and that's when he realized what account he used and without giving context he just...deleted the comment.

Then people started making memes about the "Mn Comment moment" like someone created a "I was there for the Mn comment" ticket meme.

I have an idea for the third one, he posts videos of him bugging the members or sneaky videos he took when the others were cuddling with him.

His most watched video with a butt-ton of comments asking for the source is a clip of a video he recorded of him sitting sideways on the couch and back hugging Chan who was on his laptop, a blanket over both of them on Chan's lap and Mn's face isn't visible since it was resting on Chan's shoulder not facing the phone. Fans could see Chan leaning back into Mn's body and in the clip Chan turns his head and whispers something that has Mn tightening his hold around Chan. His most liked photos is a candid shot of Hyunjin looking back over his shoulder while painting, brush still hovering over the canvas.

People were commenting how cute it was but also where it came from and how this unknown user kept getting these videos and photos.

His third page (I'm gonna name SKZ Archive) made its way to a few of the boys and at first the ones who found it were confused as hell and worried until they realized and payed more attention to the photo or video that they remembered where it came from.

Mn was responsible though! He didn't post invasive photos of the others, he posted a shirtless photo of himself every now and again but thats it.

He got scolded by his dad but he was told he could keep the account since it's not all the harmless.

I have a social media maker, I could actually make this. Would y'all want media posts?

--Can I insert an idea I had with Ateez?--

Mn posting a video on his third account in his room and it starts with him struggling to prop up his phone and once it's set, he steps back and Wooyoung is attached to him on his back. Mn takes his hands off his legs to show that he was no contribution to holding the male up, it's all Wooyoung. Then Mn looks off screen with a smile but then it falls when whoever he's looking at is suddenly in frame and Mn has to catch him. Now he has Wooyoung on his back while slowly loosing grip on Seonghwa and a second later, Seonghwa is going down with Mn and Wooyoung in tow, crashing to the floor and Wooyoung lets go of Mn but the way he landed when he let go had him kneeing both Mn and Seonghwa at the same time and when he realized and heard the both of them groan he started spewing apologies between his laughter.

Mn was semi curled up on top of Seonghwa and both couldn't stop laughing, Mn eventually slowly rolled off Seonghwa and now all three of them couldn't stop laughing at the events that happened.

Fans found the whole thing hilarious and a lot speculated something happened at Mn and Seonghwa's combined groans and Wooyoung's apologies, some were more focused on the laughter and others were trying to figure out where this video came from.

[zarithial]

next on the list of sensory nightmare: i cannot see all of my tabs at once. why is it a s c r o llllllling bar somebody please help me im going insane...

i am going to be transferring tabs for a while... I finally got my firefox theme to where its... acceptable for my brain. i cannot customise it to the extent that i need but its... whateve.r side note if anyone knows how to change the colour of the bookmark bar and inactive tabs i will love you forever

[ongreenergrasses]

late night requests sponsored by doom scrolling. I keep getting those nostalgia vids like “growing up in the (insert year) be like” and couldn’t help but just be like. Could you imagine how intense nostalgia must be for the victors and their lives pre-games. Ik you’re not a childhood odesta truther and thats so valid but I like to hope that when they at least knew of each other before, and that connection they have when they’re older is also a bridge to the past that was robbed from them. idk if you’re inspired by this but ya feel free to build on the nostalgia theme for any character in any universe

this was a delightful ask to get and I really needed a precanon palate cleanser amongst the AUs, so thank you for that! it’s a theme I’ll visit with some other characters potentially down the road.

nostalgia (red clay halo)

It’s a Sunday. Annie reminisces.

“So,” Annie says, her head hanging off the edge of the bed.

It’s a Sunday. It feels like every Sunday she’d ever had when she was a teenager. She’s exhausted, bone deep. She just wants to stay slumped over the bed, stretched out in the fall sunshine pouring through the window.

“When you moved here,” she asks, “did you ever…”

“Hmm?”

“When we started going to six days a week at training, one of the girls, she’d always have her host family invite a couple of us over for dinner on Saturdays.” Annie stares at the closet door, upside down in her field of vision. Her head’s starting to throb. “Before our day off. It was nice. Did you have something like that?”

Finnick huffs out something like a laugh. “I wasn’t in six days a week for long,” he says.

“It was one of my favorite parts of the week,” Annie says. She watches the shadows of the leaves outside flutter.

Thaleia’s host family had had blue cabinets. Annie had always wanted to paint the inside of her house, but they’d never had enough money for it. She’d wanted a pink bedroom, a yellow kitchen. She’d wanted blue cabinets. She’d stared at them for what had felt like hours on end as she’d eaten at Thaleia’s house every weekend, and told herself that when she won, it was the first thing she’d get. Paint for the cabinets.

She could paint the cabinets now, if she wanted. It wouldn’t be the same.

“Domo would let us go early sometimes,” Finnick says, a little wistfully. “On Fridays. We’d usually just go to the beach and screw around.”

“I remember that,” Annie says suddenly. “I remember he used to do that.”

She remembers how annoyed it had made her and the other girls, that Domo was always letting the boys slack off. They’d always been so loud as they were leaving. The girls’ trainers would have to shut the door to the room so that they’d focus.

Annie and Delfin and a couple of the other girls had cornered Domo, one time, once their trainers had left and they wouldn’t get caught. They’d been thirteen, they hadn’t been afraid of anything, and they’d asked him why he was letting the boys go, especially the fourteen year olds who were supposed to be getting ready for the test.

He’d told them it was because it was easier to present boys. They didn’t need to focus on looking pretty.

“He was a sexist pig,” Annie says, and Finnick bursts out laughing.

Annie starts giggling, too. She sits back upright too quickly and her head swims. She ends up slumping a little bit, nearly crashing into Finnick’s side, and catches herself at the last second.

“He was,” Finnick says.

Annie thinks about it. About how many Fridays she and the other girls had rolled their eyes and grumbled when they’d heard the boys start yelling, clattering down the hallway. About how many times Finnick had run past her room, and she’d never noticed him and never known.

“You don’t talk to him, do you,” she says. It’s not a question. “Domo.”

Finnick sighs. “It’s not like you and Serafina,” he says.

“I know.”

“What happened was embarrassing for the Academy.”

“But not for him,” Annie says. “He prepared you the best he could.”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, and Annie knows he’s done talking about it. He rarely brings up anything about his life before the Games. He’s probably done talking in general.

Her head’s spinning a little less now. She hops off the bed and holds out her hand. “Let’s go,” she says, a little impatiently, when he just looks at her. “We need to go to town.”

He takes her hand and she pulls him up and off the bed. “For?” he asks.

Annie stands on her tiptoes and twirls him around under her arm, and she sees him smile almost helplessly. She bites her cheek to keep in her own smile. “We’re painting the cabinets,” she says.

[mekkthemighty]

Got to kill one of my players with a wish today!

The party were sent to investigate a wild magic disturbance and the characters of our tale are Markus the halfling rogue, Iris tiefling druid, Awrou the human ranger, and Naivara the wood elf rogue

The party arrived in the hills and feeling the waves of the weave's disturbances moving towards the source, seeing the rain falling upwards all the way

Awrou was hit with the wild magic far worse than the others initially (rolled a 1 on the d100) and triggered a full minute of changing effects

Among the effects included becoming swallowed up by the bulging ground and needing to be dug out, turning into a sheep, conjuring puddles of grease, random teleports, bestowing curses upon the things you touch, etc.

A gorgon was teleported into their area and Pebbles, Awrou's dog ranger companion, was granted a use of Bestow Curse by the wild magic dice gods which managed to keep the gorgon stunned for 4 straight turns, the party wearing it down quite a lot in that time but it still managed to petrify Naivara and Iris, as well as the horse pulling the cart

Markus with Awrous help harvested the Gorgon and retrieved enough of its blood to use it to unpetrify them both, as well as its hide, 2 vials of its gas, and its horns

Naivara and Markus both mined for ringrock after the wild magic transmuted the boulders in the area into the magical stone

Continuing toward the source they found an old temple, the stone pillars supporting the roof were carved into statues of elven sorcerers casting a swirling pattern toward the cieling, the pattern continued through the cieling into the walls and floors, every inch covered in arcane text engraved using elvish, sylvan, and infernal letters

Entering the temple found them rolling wild magic every 6 seconds, a magic wind made it difficult terrain to move towards the altar at the far end of the temples singular entrance 90ft away

Reaching the altar, they found it had a series of raised cylinders along a flat metal surface, they're buttons, and there's a dozen smaller buttons as well as three larger buttons in front, the middle one is a slightly bigger one with scraps of faded red paint lingering

The big red button is eventually pressed after Iris exploded, Awrou was teleported and ended up in a fight with a summoned fire elemental, Markus was turned into a potted plant, and Naivara was haunted by ethereal music

Once pressed the wild magic shut off, they realised pressing the 12 smaller buttons ejected metal bricks, which were inscribed with the same magic text

They found each slab works as a scroll for a different 1st level spell but is not consumed in the casting

Deciding to loot the place they took all twelve out of the altar and watched as the runes along all the walls turned dark and Iris determined that the temple was casting power word kill, they fled before it activated and continued their investigation outside

Iris who just so happened to know all 3 languages involved in the arcane text was advantaged to decode them, and found that together they were half of a summoning ritual, the other half was in the altar itself, she theorized putting them all back would summon a deity, the order and placement determining the specific deity summoned, I did not tell her this she figured it out on her own and yeah thats how it works, mathematically theres a ridiculous number of options, 12 slots times 12 slabs times number of ways to order their return to the altar, but I only actually prepped the one deity

Awrou and Naivara waited outside with the familiars and horse while Iris and Markus went inside to return the slabs in hopes of appeasing the temple's god

Again, Iris warned Markus many times not to put all of the slabs back in as that would complete the ritual, however Markus with the final slab allowed his curiosity to get the better of him and slammed it into the final slot

The temple doors closed as the runes floated off the walls to coalesce into a being of light which spoke in celestial and asks "what is thy life's wish"

Iris froze afraid to answer, realizing the terrifying power at her disposal, Markus took the initiative and answered "peace"

I asked markus if he was willing to give his life for peace and he said yes

And so he died and his wish was granted, the form it took was the rest of the party gaining the effects of sanctuary permanently, at least until they make an attack, no concentration required, basically the party must be the ones to break the peace

Markus' body was taken along with his soul, leaving only his clothes, bag, and smoking pipe behind

Iris reported the knowledge to the guildmaster and was given 1000gp in hush money to split between them

Awrou buried his pipe in place of a body and Naivara got stoned on the last of his weed by his grave in grief

Twas a good session, we ended with the intro of his new character, as well as the loot shopping and such

Ngl I thought the session was effectively over when Iris' player just guessed at the correct steps for the ritual, they've dealt with gods before and know to fear them, but Markus' player had a habit of messing with them too much, he betrayed a dark goddess a few sessions back and had cultists trying to murder him not long after, thought he learned his lesson but I guess not, either way this ended up being a fitting end

[arsene-fixates]

arsene im a lil obsessed w ur stimboards i wanted to ask whats your thought process when making them or what are some things you do to make them so cohesive….. and while im here. btw. YOUR BANNER IS STUNNING AND ITS LIKE A PAINTING FROM A MUSEUM? TELL ME YOUVE POSTED THAT AND I JUST MISSED IT WHILE I WAS GONE FOR A WHILE I NEED TO RB IT WITH 50 BAJILLION TAGS!!!!! hope u have a great day yaaaaay 🩷

HI NATTTTT i can make one for you too if you like :3c just drop a dm and we can talk about it yay!

i'll talk about a couple boards!!

🦦<- link to board

omg ok this one i would say i took the most time to matching the image. i usually start with looking at the overall picture so in this one since swanee is holding a little heart shaped chocolate i knew i wanted to have chocolate or confectionary related gifs

then of course i take into account that i wanna get pink/blue to match .. kanaswan colours!! in the drawing, swanee has these little ribbon things wrapped around her leg

i couldn't find any ribbon ones that i liked but when i was scrolling through gifs for chocolate i found those two bottom corner gifs and it was like a lightbulb went off 💡so i used those to look sorta like that :3

Finding the dessert stuff was easy but i stumbled upon the heart shaped one on the left and another lightbulb💡that could be swanee! so i wanted to find a similar one but with blue colours so it could represent kanata & then finding the top heart gif was like god gracing me perfection from above it is the both of them <3 yay

🌟 / 🔥<- links to boards

these two went through similar processes because i already had a clear vision of what i wanted when i was making these

for the both of them i knew i wanted something neon and bright, like a spark! for the sky and tree for the top stimboard was simply for colour coding purposes but the forest and hand holding gifs on the bottom stimboard was intentional since it was based off that piece of text + my drawing

so "igniting a great unendurable belongingness like a match in a forest fire" hence the forest and since in that drawing he's reaching out to caress my cheek, i wanted hand contact or something affectionate

the fire was also intentional for the bottom stimboard, the small flame at the top (match in a forest fire) then like the embers being poked at in the center and at the bottom, 'i burned so long so quiet' and along with the hand contact, like the dam opening to the fire inside him

🍙<- link to board

this one was more simply knowing the ship and then working the colours to go with it, tony and larry are both business men, and with the darkening sky i wanted to go with city related themes at the top following how the drawing is of them standing against the setting sun <3 the middle gif was just supposed to be a transitional between the blue and the yellow

and then the food at the bottom because i like to think.. its like them having dinner together before they go home...!! often times i will look at the weight of the gif e.g. the onigiri and takoyaki are both light food while the curry (i think thats curry) is considered heavy food, so i put it in the center to balance it out. like i'll take note of how much content is in the gif.. the onigiri and takoyaki gifs have more white than orange & curry is more orange heavy.... i hope im making sense.

sometimes when im making this i would check the gifs to make sure they are of similar hue too, will literally go hell and back searching for a gif that has the same colour correction as the center image

boards are saur fun to make there's some kind of art in making them design principals or something LOL! i would love to talk about more so if you are curious about a certain board just ask :3 alot more thought gets put into these thank you'd think !

ALSO NO I DIDNT POST MY BANNER so you didnt miss it do not worry