#I will literally never stop talking about this game

[booksooks]

i havent even met sylus in game but some of yall seem to have him confused for your own oc because he would Not act Like That

typing using voice to text so I'm sorry if the formatting is weird, but from what my friend who has met sylus has told me: this man would not act the way some of you guys are insisting. like he would not be jealous to the point of being entirely unable to communicate. he would not try to kiss you as a way of making up, or as a way to stop you from being angry with him. that's just not something i see as feasibly anywhere near sylus as a character.

if you want to write a big daddy dom character who completely bulldozes over your feelings in lieu of 'fucking the jealousy out of you', then by all means go for it. but at that point, you are writing for an original character because that is wildly mischaracterizing someone who (again, according to my friend because i havent even come close to meeting sylus in the storyline) specifically makes room for you to be angry, to feel big emotions in a safe space and to be there for you.

the amount of fanfics i've seen that have sylus act in a way that is completely off base is insane. i'm aware that this is fanfiction, that people can write whatever they want and it's not harmful because at the end of the day: it's FAN FICTION and if you can't separate reality from fiction or whatever, you're not mature enough to be reading mature works or you simply don't have the media literacy skills to do so. but i've had a very long and emotionally draining week, and my temper is hanging on by a thread, and i'm allowed to be angry about a completely bullshit take on one of my favorite characters lmfao.

let me be clear, i'm not saying sylus cannot, will not, and has never been domineering, or protective, or that he doesn't have a fucking daddy kink or whatever. what i AM saying, is that the amount of fanfictions of sylus blowing the reader off or ghosting them or just simply not communicating and then expecting the reader to fall back into his arms after a kiss and a few well placed 'kitten's is astounding. even if he made the bad choice of being distant without explanation, he wouldn't expect the reader to instantly forgive him without an ELABORATE apology and an explanation. and honestly, i'm willing to put that bullshit of 'she forgives him because he's hot and he pulled her in close with his strong arms and hes so big daddy alpha dom' into the category of misogyny. because in what world does someone go from angry and hurt to forgiving and pliant just because he's a man and he kissed you. it is blatantly misogynistic to expect that.

i'm aware there is a lot of nuance within relationships, and that not everyone can be expected to be perfect at all times, HOWEVER this is fanfiction, and the authors i'm talking about have either explicitly stated that the reader and sylus have an established romantic relationship, or that they at the very least get along well and enjoy each other's company. so for sylus to then go ghost on the reader and expect them to instantly fall back into his arms at the end of the day then puts me in the position of 'simpering woman with no spine'. again, misogynistic.

at the end of the day, i'm aware this isn't an important issue and i'm aware that the misogyny in fanfiction doesn't necessarily have to transfer over to real life, especially because i do have critical thinking. but i have been ghosted before by an at-the-time boyfriend, and it sucked, so it's more of a personal issue from me.

i'm aware people can write whatever they want, and i have no obligation to read something i don't like. but that then eliminates what seems to be 50% of the fanfiction of sylus. i'm just saying please... consider writing literally anything else for sylus. for a man who has been made to love you specifically... y'all sure don't make him act like it.

if anyone wants me to elaborate or clarify some things, please send me an ask because the comments are not easy to navigate especially with multiple replies.

last but not least: i'm aware these are my personal feelings, and that i can write to make up for it should i so choose. but i hate having to scroll past 5 fics in a row with quite frankly stupid miscommunication issues from a man who is 28 and should damn well know better. thank you.

[orchidyoonkook]

LASTONELASTONE!! I did it! and within the promised time frame too, look at me go! (Im taking any wins atm, please dont mind me)

ONTO!

why am i sobbing right now 😭😭😭😭 this was so fluffy this hang out ahhhhhh yoon it was adorable 😩😩🥺🥺🥹😭🥹😭🥹😭🥹

I love them i love them i love them. I LOVE THEM. I love how easy they are with one another, how effortless and thoughtless and easy.

oc and jungkook literally have my heart at this point i mean i am speechless the fact that she made this so special for him and he was looking out for her during the exams and the freaking gift i can't stop sobbing 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

One thing about OC is that if she can create some solstice magic for somebody, she absolutely will. She's like me in the sense that she thinks holidays should be celebrated for their true intentions, and that no one should be denied that magic.

I love that he can't help it either, like it physically pains him to see her like that so he's compelled to help. He's such a good man, that JK.

THE GIFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT. OH I WAS SO STOKED FOR THAT. I love that he did it, I love the thought that went into it. That he noticed she has older brushes, 'lower' (but still good) quality brushes, brushes that look like theyve been used to much, and he used that information and just automatically decided that her passions and talent deserved the best instead of the best she could get herself. That he didn't think twice about the price of the gift because money has never been an issue for him, but he thought about the gifts impact and how it could help her achieve her dreams.

i think about his gift versus her unintentional on and their contrast a lot. I really enjoyed writing them.

so it was a mix of sobs turns blushes because of that muscle use talk hey (what a switch up)

sobbing and blushing with you!

And I like a lil spice with my fluff, what can I say. Balance is nice. I also like the natual growth of conversation, in a way that's expressed with a game of wits that turns into more trust and respect by the end of it. That's a complicated sentence, I hope that makes sense. XD

but omg the tree and the star (yoon how adorable you actually make those i love it that little add you did there)

I did! second year of college yoon wanted a christmas tree in her dorm real bad, so she went to her local dollarstore and got a little one and little baubles to match. But they didnt have tree toppers! So i took a cereal box out of my recycling bin, cut out a star, glued tin foil to the bitch and put'er on top of my baby tree. I still have and use it to this day. She remains super cute and festive.

and they are hugging now look it's one step closer to a kiss i will take it

I personally find hugs to be more intimate and passionate then kissing when done within the right context. A kiss? you can kiss anyone and have it mean nothing. But a hug? To be held? An embrace where you just hold another person because of the emotions your feeling can only be expressed tactiley like that? Hits different for me.

i can't get over how fluffy and homey this was and with the bodyguard too it just captured my heart i love this chapter it's definitely in my top 10 PJK moments (basically it's every interaction they have that's why it's 10 you get it) 🥹

THE GUARDS. MY BABIES. I love the guards, I love their positive masculine energy, I love that JK has them, and I love that they like OC. He's a little brother almost to most of them, they're the kind of older brothers who clearly aren't afraid to give their little bro shit, but are also his biggest cheerleaders when it counts. I just. I love my guards. I was so excited to introduce them finally.

holy shit top ten!!!!!! I'm honoured, flattered and in dire need of that list in ranked order so we can geek out together. (also so i can compare the current list to the list when the series if finished.)

(also also that is of course, not a request, only a "if you ever wanted to do so, I would be more than willing to read and geek")

and now they won't see each other over solstice i wonder how that's going to go i just know the texts are not gonna stop flowing i can not wait to see why happens in chapter 10

Chapter ten is currently 13.1k. :)

And in a slightly different format. But only slightly. You'll see what I mean when it's released <3

yoon please give a spoiler like a minor one okay give us a line a quote something please 🥹🖤

👀👀👀👀

Picasso [3:24pm]: Hey, if I wanted to mail you something while ur home, how would I do that??

👀👀👀👀

yoon you know i adore you and seeing how you have grown as a writer is the most beautiful thing and i just know you are going to do so many more great things i want you know i am here always and i adore you, your happiness means the world to me and i hope you are smiling and your days are filled with happiness - kiki 🖤

You know? I thought it was raining from how wet my face and clothes were, but it was actually just the ocean of tears this just made me shed in a downpour.

I can never, and will never be able to tell you how important reviews and humans like you are to me in particular, but to writers and creatives out there who do what I do. There is no us without you. I will say it in every. single. review. you write me, but you and folks like you are the reason fic and fic community stays alive, and I can never thank you enough for it. I'm so thankful and grateful for your constant and unwavering support, and for being on this wild writing ride with me as I grow with it.

I hope I can keep up the consistency of the writing style, and only improve as I go, as well as not screw up this story you love so dearly. I promise to try my best.

I am absolutely smilling and filled with happiness. I hope you are the same <3

Xo, Yoon

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 9

Title: Sugar Cookies and Devious Confessions

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Exams season and Solstice? Consider YN locked in, loaded, ready to go, hangry, and sentimental. Jungkook is just along for the ride with a hefty side of acts of service, quality time and physical touch are his love languages. Who'da thunk?

Warnings: T, language, fluff, so much fluff actually, I've surprised myself, semi-sexual conversations, JK is a menace but Reader can keep up...mostly, touch of angst tbh, reader gets hangry and is bad at taking care of herself sometimes, but apologises and makes up for it, mostly just wholesome this time. And fun!

Word Count: 6,675

Release Date: December 8, 2024. 12:30PM

A/N 1: Hiiiiiiiiiiii. It's here, thank you to those who reminded me. I literally would have forgotten for the third week in a row without them. I love you all.

A/N 1.5: Chapter ten will be coming sometime between Dec 20th-30th as it is festive and that's all I will say about it.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight

Jungkook’s learned many things about you since your friendship started. 

From your favourite colours to your favourite brush to paint with. He learned that you are always team morally gray love interest in the books you read in your limited spare time, although that one was learned a little against your will. 

He’d wanted to know why you always went for them, and very begrudgingly you admitted you found it appealing when they’d do anything to protect the main character. That they always did what they thought was best or what needed to be done despite their sad backstory, because for some reason, they all had sad backstories.

Every. Single. One of them. 

And you claimed it suckered you in every time. 

But through all of your time spent together—specifically during midterms—Jungkook learned just how much you ignore all of your basic needs as a human being when it comes to exams season. 

How you’ll forget to eat all day in favour of studying, or staying up late to finish your practical exam projects, making absolutely sure they’re up to your impossibly high standards, disregarding sleep.

So it doesn’t surprise him when he turns the corner to the greenhouse cafe to see you, thinner than normal with bags under your eyes, slaving away at something on your computer. 

He hates that he can tell you’ve lost weight through your winter clothing.

You look up, briefly smiling in greeting. He can tell just from how long it took you to notice him that you need a break, a good healthy meal and some sleep.

He smiles back, but bypasses you and walks straight into the cafe. You don’t think twice about it, already knowing what he’s doing.

“Hey Vivian,” he says to the barista.

“Hey JK, the regular?” She's restocking some cups and lids to the counter.

“Please, but tag on a hot chocolate for YN and some tarts.” Vivian nods, typing the order into the cashing system, very much used to either of you adding on each other's order to your own at this point.

“Machines ready for you,” she says, already prepping the first drink—his by the looks of it.

Jungkook pays and waits patiently, watching you from the window. 

“How long’s she been here?” he asks over the currently frothing milk—that’s for your hot chocolate.

“Since seven. She grabbed a tea and hasn’t moved since.” 

It’s almost 1:30 now, and Viv looks at him knowingly. She’s watched you do this to yourself every mid-term and exam season since you started. 

“Ah. I see.” He purses his lips.

It’s only a few minutes before the drinks and tarts are ready. Jungkook grabs them and heads out the door, calling a thank you over his shoulder.

“Okay look,” he says to grab your attention as he stands directly in front of you. The act of walking to the front of you alone clearly not enough to gain it. 

Looking up, your eyes widen in glee at the treats he carries. You attempt to reach for them but he pulls them back.

“Nuh uh, you need food.” 

You look at him confused. “Those are food.”

“No, these are the reward. You need a meal.” 

You try to interrupt him. Most likely to say you do eat meals, but instant ramen or a box of mac'n'cheese do not count, and he cuts you off before you can. “A healthy meal, Picasso, something to give your body nourishment and energy. One that fills you up.”

You scowl at him. 

“But–”

“No buts,” he cuts you off again. “Healthy food. Full, happy belly food,” he says, gently patting his stomach so not as to spill his drink. “Pack up, we’re going to the cafeteria and getting you some.”

“But–”

“Y/N,” he says sternly, giving you a look that says he will not be budging on this, and that if you refuse, he’s going to throw you over his shoulder to ensure it happens. 

It was the voice of a future King, he thinks. Then internally shudders. That’s not who he is with you, but he can admit that sometimes this side of him comes in handy during times like these. 

“Fine.” You snip, very clearly not happy about this.

Fortunately, you don’t seem to have any art supplies with you today, just your computer, a notepad and pencil case. You gather them quickly, throwing them into your backpack with an annoyed look because you don’t want to stop, but he’s forcing your hand.

He doesn’t care. You need this, and it’s clear as hell you were not going to do it on your own.

You were so fucking stubborn sometimes. 

His mask, hat and baggy shirt combo mixed with some large combat boots and a slight slouch in posture has worked wonders disguising him from the public so far. In fact, he’s pretty sure it intimidates some people seeing as how they nearly jump out of his way. You’ve joked about it before, calling it his ‘scary dog privilege’…whatever that meant. 

Jungkook doesn’t mind, though. Despite being four months into the school year, and his speech at the beginning, people still fawn and stare at him. Trying to get his attention, his approval. Anything to get something from him, even if it’s just a look in their direction. 

He wonders if it will ever die down, if it'll ever go away. Or if with new freshmen every year, a new horde of people will seek him out. 

So, he’s grateful that with this little disguise on, no one bats an eye at him as you two walk the fifteen minutes it takes to get across campus to the cafeteria. He knows you’re more than mentally drained, because you’re not checking over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure no one realizes you’re with him like you usually do. 

You enter the main building, luckily the cafeteria on the ground floor, just near the back. Once there, you walk straight to the fridge of premade to-go foods. Grabbing a fruit cup, a chicken caesar salad, and a container of mixed vegetables with dip, you turn to him.

“Is this good enough for you?” you snark.

“Yep, great choices,” he says, ignoring your tone. “Very healthy and nutritious. Plus you nearly have all the food groups.”

“I do have all the food groups,” you say back, deadpan.

Wow���

You really need some sleep, he’s never heard you sound so lifeless. Or mean. You’re only ever truly mean when you’re beyond exhausted, too tired to care. 

He’d say your mood and overall vibe is like a mixture of brown and gray, but he knows if he said it out loud you’d make him specify which specific shades of brown and gray, so he keeps the thought to himself. Both not to provoke you and to be polite.  

“You’re missing dairy and grain,” he says.

You point to his hands holding the tarts and drink.

“Fair point,” he concedes, and trails you to the register, grabbing a protein shake from a nearby fridge on the way. His card is out and paying before you can reach for your wallet and you accept it, even too worn out to yell at him for buying you something. 

Hot chocolate and the occasional bag of tarts you're fine with, because half the time you’re also buying him his coffee and sharing your tarts, so you see it as a fair trade. But anything outside those and you damn near throw a fit, claiming you don’t need him to spend his money on you. 

You never want anything from him, so unlike everyone else in his life.

He leads you to a more private booth in the corner, scary dog privilege in full effect as no one dares stand in his way, and you very unceremoniously plop down, sluggishly shucking off your bag and coat. 

Definitely a brownish-gray. 

You two eat and drink in silence; you, slowly picking away at your food, him, finishing his drink then eating the vegetables from the container you don’t like. It’s a peaceful silence, contented as your mood gradually improves and some colour returns to your face the more you get into your system. 

The sight relieves him. 

“Sorry,” you say, eyes glued to the table, unable to look at him. And he knows it’s for the way you treated him pre-food.

“No worries,” he replies. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. That's good.”

Jungkook wasn’t going to push, but now that your mood’s improving, he hopes it’s safe to.

“Hey,” you look up at him, the bags under your eyes more evident under the artificial light and his heart breaks a little at the sight. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep tonight?”

A small close lipped smile finds your face, eyes soft, appreciative. The corner of his own lifts to match. 

“I promise I’ll try.”

You fall asleep early that night, 9pm. 

You don’t know what allows you to, but your exam worries fade and assignment anxiety slips from your mind the heavier your eyes grow. In the back of your head however, a thought slips through your defenses; you know it’s because of the look in Jungkook's eyes when he’d asked you too. 

The one of worry—genuine worry—for you. 

You hate yourself for causing it. You never want him to have to worry about you, god…he already has so much on his plate, you don’t want to add to it. 

But mostly…

But mostly you let yourself succumb to slumber because you don’t want to disappoint him. 

He asked you so kindly, and you know he had your best interests at heart when he did. He always does. 

You don’t have it in you to deny him that simple favour. To take care of yourself a little better.

So you sleep, just this once. For him. To help relieve him of the stress you caused.

And you know that that thought is what lets you until 10am the next day.

You feel better than you have in weeks.

You have everything you could possibly need to make all the recipes you have planned for today. Eggs, flour, sugar, soju, cutters, extracts, ginger, honey, chocolate chips, food colouring, some fruit concentrates and more are stuffed into the bags that dangle from your now struggling arms. There’s also another much lighter bag filled with a surprise for him that sits near the crook of your elbow. 

 Jungkook’s not going to know what hit him.

The door clicks open and you watch his eyes nearly leave his skull before he reaches to take them from you.

“Oh wow, you really weren’t kidding were you,” he says as he takes them to the kitchen with ease. 

Stupid muscles, you think, but the thought doesn’t hold for too long, glad at having your arm circulation back. 

“Solstice cookies are no joke in my house,” you say, following him.

“Clearly.”

He starts taking things out of the bags and you grab the one with the surprise in it before he can get to it.

“Won’t we need that?” he asks.

“Yes, but it’s not for cookies,” you start backing away towards the living room, bag behind your back. “It’s a surprise.”

Jungkook has a goofy grin plastered on his face as he follows you, and you put one on to match.

You stand in front of the coffee table and order him to sit and close his eyes, a sarcastic ‘yes ma’am’ comes from his lips, but he does as told. 

You set the contents of the bag on the coffee table; a small fake tree with built in lights, some tiny baubles in a box, a star, a polaroid camera and a custom, empty ornament.

“Okay, open!”

Jungkook opens his eyes and the same goofy grin returns, but this time there’s a sparkle in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

His voice is gentle and lovely when he asks, “What’s all this Picasso?”

“Your very own tree to decorate. We have lights, decorations, even a star for the top,” you say as he leans and picks up the star. “You said you didn’t really celebrate anymore so I wanted to bring some celebration back to you—if you wanted to, that is.”

He twirls the star in his hand, smile never leaving, as he inspects it closer. “Did you make this?”

You turn sheepish. “Ah… yeah. They don’t really sell mini toppers for the mini trees, just the baubles, so that guy’s made from the finest cereal box cardboard and tinfoil on the market.”

He just stares, at the star, at the tree, then to you. You can’t tell if you screwed up or not. Did he hate this?

But then he’s standing and you’re in his arms as he hugs you. 

You freeze, unsure of what to do for a second, before you let your arms go around him, hugging him back. 

He’s solid, you can feel the strength in him as he breathes, and the weight in his arms as they hold you. 

But also warm. So warm your cheeks start to heat to match the rest of your body that seems to be on fire. 

It ends before it barely started, and you find yourself missing him the second he’s gone. 

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head as if not realizing what he’d just done until after he stopped. You want to tell him it was okay, but he says, “thank you,” immediately after, and squats down to open the baubles. 

“You’re welcome,” you say as you watch, sitting down on the couch. He looks like a kid, the brightest of smiles on his face as he goes to place the first one, but pauses, and hands it to you. 

“You know better than me where to start.”

You giggle, placing the red sphere near the middle, and gesture for him to put on the next one. It continues like this until the box is empty, you then him, then you then him. He places the last ornament and looks to you, star in hand. 

“You do it,” you say. You’ve done this a million times with your mum, you doubt he’s done the same.

He carefully grabs the top branch that sticks up, placing the star over it. Your heart swells at how gentle he is with your handmade decoration. 

“Now the last step,” you say, as you reach for the camera. This was your favourite tradition with your mother, the yearly solstice picture. You have one from every single year after you were born, and even one with you in your mum’s belly. 

“Turn around,” you say, spinning your finger and he does, you follow.

You’re both on the ground in front of the tree, and you lift the camera, leaning into him. Still so warm. He leans right back. 

“Say 'Solstice!'” you call out, and smile.

“Solstice,” he says with you as you snap the picture.

You pause for a moment, making sure the image is done capturing before leaning away again. 

The image prints out, and you take hold of it, shaking so it develops faster. 

“Can you get some scissors, and a permanent marker?” you ask Jungkook. He leaves for only a moment, returning from the kitchen, scissors and marker in hand. 

You reach for the empty, custom ornament. It’s a camera, and where the lens would be is a spot for a picture. Cutting the polaroid to fit, you slide it in, and write solstice followed by the year on the back of the ornament.  You put it in the middle of the tree, letting the baubles frame it.

You don’t see Jungkook watching you do all of this, a look in his eye that would melt you if you saw. 

“And now for the magic,” you say, turning on the built-in lights. The tree twinkles as the little LEDs reflect off baubles, like stars on a clear night winking at one another.

You're too busy looking at the tree when you hear a click. Following the sound you see Jungkook, polaroid camera in hand, lens facing you. The image pops out and he grabs it, placing it on the coffee table beside the tree.

“Aren't you supposed to shake it?” you ask.

He looks purely serene as he responds. “Nah, polaroids have chemicals and dyes layered in them, so if you shake them you can get microbubbles or marks on them.”

You didn’t know that, but it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he does. His talent for photography, a result of years of study and practice. 

“Oh, good to know,” you say as you take the camera from him, and direct him to look at the tree. You snap a picture to match your own, placing it on the table beside the one he took. 

He stays sat there, staring at the tree for a while, the occasional flit towards you before the tree once again.

“It’s perfect,” Jungkook says, breaking the comfortable silence. He clears his throat before adding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You don’t know what else to say besides that, but you can see the happiness in his eyes. Their glow. Their warmth. 

You don’t think you need to say more. 

He knows. 

Time is quickly passing, and you have five recipes to get through today. So as much as you find yourself not wanting to move, perfectly happy sitting here with him for the rest of the day in this beautiful silence, you can’t. The tree is only the beginning of your day together.

“Cookie time?” you ask. 

Jungkook looks to you and takes a deep breath, as if he was also content to stay where you were for the day.

Just you, him and the tree.

“Cookie time.”

“You bitch!” you say as flour flies from his hand to your cheek. 

You were three and a half recipes in, having made two easier recipes first to ease him into a more difficult one. Shortbread, maejakgwa, and gingerbread now sit around in tupperware and cooling sheets around the apartment. 

But because of that, Jungkook is slowly losing all seriousness as you retrieve the sugar cookie dough from his fridge. It was actually the first thing you’d made, knowing it had to chill for a while beforehand, hence the three and a half. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, all knowing smirk plastered on his face like a neon billboard. 

You refuse to sink to his childish levels, and remove the beautifully chilled dough from its refrigerator bowl. Wiping your face with a cloth to clean yourself of the flour, you order him over.

“Come use all your unnecessary muscles to roll this out, quarter inch thick,” holding out the rolling pin to him. The smirk lessons only slightly, but he does as told. 

“All my muscles are unnecessary, huh?” he says after a minute of rolling. You’re by the sink washing some dishes as he does and you can all but physically see the egging in his voice. 

“Yes.”

“And why’s that?” He asks as he finishes rolling out the dough and begins on his cookie cutter decisions. You’ve learned he’s particular about which one’s he wants to use for which type of cookie. 

“Because you have like a million eight foot tall, 450 pound security guards following your every move at all times,” you say, as if this was obvious. In reality, it was a solid team of six guards who were at their tallest 6 '4, and maybe 285 at their heaviest. 

Admittedly, they were all really nice guys, having met them numerous times over the months. And you were planning on stealing some of the cookies from today to give them little solstice bags. 

Jungkook’s never going to be able to eat them all by himself  anyway…you think. And even if he could, he really shouldn’t.

“So, because I have security guards,” he looks at you unbelievingly, “my muscles are unnecessary?” 

“Yes. Why have them if you don’t need them?” At this point you’re just teasing him.

“Lots of reasons,” and he starts listing as you continue to clean. “They look nice, but that's obvious.”

“I’m sure your groupies don’t mind that at all,” you sneak in under your breath, referring to his enormous, and rather lewd mouthed female following on social media. 

“Hey, you leave my groupies out of this, they’re nice people,” he says, pointing a white powdered finger. You scoff and go back to the dishes mumbling something about how they feed his ego. 

“There’s also the fact that I like being strong. I like that I don’t get winded from jogging up the stairs, and I like that I have the ability to help damsels who show up at my place with their arms full of far too many heavy bags.”

You shoot him a glare and he laughs. “You can’t say I’m wrong.”

You also don’t have to acknowledge that comment.

He takes it as a win in your ever ongoing battle of wits. And just to try and even out the playing field a little more, as you are currently winning by a landslide, he adds on a little more to his answer, hopefully one you’re not expecting, and therefore winning by shock factor.

“There’s other reasons too, but those are a lot less PG, to say the least.”

He—

Your hands pause their ministrations for mere seconds before continuing.

How did he say it so…casually!?

Like he didn’t essentially just tell you he likes being strong for bedroom purposes. A topic you’ve never been anywhere near speaking to him about, and he just… brings it up like that? So cryptically as if he wants you to ask for clarification. 

And you do want clarification, damn him!

You hate that it makes you curious. Hate. It.

You like knowing things, not to be nosey, but because you like the mental safety it brings. When you and Nel first started having sex you did a deep dive on everything you could, to make sure nothing was a surprise and that you didn’t hurt yourself or him if you tried anything new. 

Little did you know half of the research was for nothing. Nel has never been the most sexually adventurous person, whereas you wanted to try out new things, explore, see what you like via trial and error, he was fine with good ole missionary and a handful of other basic positions. 

What you two do now works though. And that’s what counts. Compromise. Overcome. Enjoy and respect each other's boundaries. 

But it makes you wonder if Jungkook knows anything you don’t. 

That reason alone is apparently enough for you to hear, “Like what?” leave your lips before you can stop it. And you internally freak.

What the fuck! You did not just ask him that. 

That did not just come out of your mouth.

You did not jus-

“You really wanna know?” he asks, eyeing you over his shoulder with a single quirked brow, like he can’t believe you said it either, but he’ll dish you if you want him too. 

How interesting. You don’t remember gaining this level of trust from him, to be honest about something so personal. So private. 

You wonder when that happened. 

No, you say in your mind. But your head is gingerly nodding yes. 

Stop that! You think to your body, betraying you once again.

Jungkook hums before picking up a cutter, a simple circle. 

“Well,” he punctuates the word with a cutter punch. “Uhh…there’s a certain level of—” a punch, “—power dynamic I prefer having, and they definitely help with that,” another cutter punch. “I also like being able to lift my partner with relative ease, or carry them if need be. Legs around my hips is a personal favourite.”

Your dishwashing slows as he continues, unable to stop the images that flood your mind thanks to your visual thinking. 

Stupid art brain.

A small pool of heat starts to form low in your stomach. Stupid art brain.

After some more circular cutter punches, you think he’s finished and you’re relieved, but then he switches to a spikier one and continues. 

“I’ve also learned that finger strength seems to be a fan favourite,” he jokes and you gulp, forcing that thought out of your head as soon as it enters like a slingshot.  “And most of my previous partners seemed to enjoy the fact that I could, uhm…well, that I could hold them in place while I did… that is…whatever I wanted to them.” 

You ignore the wetness in forming your underwear. This conversation, regardless of who it was with, was not helping you and your complete and utter lack of sex. 

Another enormous downside to long distance, your libido and its easily excitable nature due to lack of use. Maybe an appointment with your vibrator is due soon, if you’re this affected by these attempts at sterile descriptions of sexual-like encounters. He isn’t even saying anything expressly dirty. He’s trying to be as respectful and informative in his answers as he can.

Plus, you did this to yourself. 

“But if I had to pick, I think there’s a tie for my favourite part about having unnecessary muscles for non PG purposes,” he says, and looks at you with another quirked brow, seeing if he’s allowed to proceed.

You’ve entirely stopped washing the dishes. Too focused on not focusing on the growing need blooming inside you. 

Oh yes, you’re penciling it in right now: Vibrator appointment. Tonight. 10:30pm. 

Sharp.

Time to accept the consequences of your actions.

“Consider it a potential learning opportunity. Academically speaking, of course,” you say, as a way to make this educational. That’s all this is anyway right? To see if he knows anything you don’t. 

Right?

Right.

“If you say so Picasso.” He tears the leftover dough from the neatly cut cookies, and starts laying them on a baking pan. “First, I like that I’m strong enough to flip my partner over whether they’re, uhm...” he struggles for an ‘academic’ sounding word, but settles for, “restrained, or not.”

Heat. Everywhere. There's heat everywhere and you immediately go back to the dishes, changing the flowing water to ice cold and ignoring the throbbing of your core. You’re pretty sure if you slipped your hands down your pants right now, they’d be just as wet as they are cleaning the mixing bowls. 

Maybe you should reschedule to 10. Or even 9:30. Hell, why not 9 while you’re thinking about it.

“Secondly, I like the muscles because they help me make great use of walls.”

You nearly drop the bowl in the sink, not having nearly enough time to recover before he’s looking at you again, sugar cookie filled baking pan in hand.

“You ever done something like that?” he asks, sly smirk visible. He’s trying to make light of the situation, make it a joke for the sake of comfortability.

He’s spilling ‘all’ his secrets, why shouldn’t you spill one.

The oven dings, signaling the preheating is complete and it’s ready for use. He comes closer to you, only because the oven is opposite the sink, puts them in and sets the oven’s timer for 12 minutes. Turning back around, he’s not two feet from you.

You force your voice to be as smooth and cool as possible as you face him, your own smirk plastered. 

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

Yes, yes he would.

“Call your goons in, I have their bags ready.”

“They’re not my goons,” Jungkook says, texting Shen, head of his security detail. “They’re my guards.”

You’re both finishing up cleaning the kitchen, all of the ingredients are put away, the dishes are cleaned, and Jungkook is washing down the counterspace as you write the names of everyone on the little bags filled with the results of your combined labours.

The coffee table is covered in little polaroids from today, all still resting from when they developed. Half of them have some form of baking related mess on them, be it some flour or a small lump of dough. 

You look at one he took after throwing more flour on you, your nose is scrunched and it looks like half your face is white with the stuff. It’s cute. There’s another beside it, Jungkook is pretending to lick raw batter from the whisk, eyes wide, tongue outstretched. It’s chaotic.

They’re perfect.

Shen, Dae-Seong, Asa, Rowan, Micah and Hikari are Jungkook’s security detail. They all have shared apartments in the same building. Never too far away. Shen and Asa are stationed on his floor, Mikah and Rowan are on the floor below and Dae-Seong and Hikari are on the one above. 

“Guards, goons, same difference,” you say, but you hear knocking not seconds later, no doubt Shen and Asa. 

You go and open the door, welcoming them in.

“Hey Y/N,” Asa says, scooping you up for a hug, your feet dangling. Asa’s one of the guards who’s super tall, and he’s always been very affectionate towards you. Come to think of it, a lot of them are. 

“Hey Asa, how’s Natalie?” you chuckle, hugging him back lightly. Natalie is his wife, who's still back in the capital.

“She’s good, excited to have me home soon.”

“No doubt, say hi for me.”

“Yeah, will do.”

He sets you down just in time for another knock. 

Rowan, Micah, Hikari and Dae-Seong all make their way in too, giving high fives, light hugs or happy greetings to you as they do. Soon, you’re being towered over by men, feeling very small, but never scared as they are always so lovely to you.

You suspect you’re quickly becoming their favourite. 

Jungkook they’re used to seeing, they’ve known him for years, protected him for years. They give him shit, a nod or grab him by the neck with their arms as they play wrestle to greet him. No hugs or high fives to be seen with him, only laughter. Mostly at Jungkook. 

When they’re around, Jungkook is the most at ease you’ve ever seen him at. 

“So what’s up?” Shen asks. He’s the least affectionate out of everyone, stoic even, but that doesn’t surprise you. He’s responsible for the safety of the future monarch, that’s a stressful job.

You look to Jungkook, who’s now sitting on the couch. He signals with a hand that this is all you.

“I don’t know if you all celebrate, but just in case you do, Jungkook and I spent the day baking,” Rowan snorts at that, and you ignore it, motioning for them to follow you to the kitchen. The island carrying their individually labeled goody bags comes into their view.

“And this is just a little thank you for all you do from the jackass in the other room,” you point with a thumb to the wall the couch is on the other side of. The men snicker. 

“I heard that,” Jungkook calls.

“You were supposed to,” you call back, then to the group once more, “and it’s also a Happy Solstice from me.”

Rowan and Asa are still laughing at your less than kind words about their charge as you begin to hand them their bags. Each one says thank you as you do, and Asa gives you another hug. He may be 6’4 and god knows how many pounds, but really, he was just a big teddy bear—a lethal one— but cuddly nonetheless.

“We’ve got a decent selection, but feel free to trade,” you say, giving Shen his bag last. He has a thing with going last, you have no idea why, but you respect it. You whisper to him that he has an extra of each cookie, and not to tell the others, including Jungkook. He gives you the absolute smallest of small smiles, followed by a hushed ‘thank you.’

It’s the most tender you’ve ever seen him.

Micah pipes up. “What’s this one?” he asks, holding up a cookie.

“So, we’ve got gingerbread, maejakgwa, sugar cookies, shortbread and that, my dearest Micah,” the mountain of a man blushes at that, and you laugh, “is a yakgwa cookie. Think chewy honey and ginger.”

He pops it into his mouth instantly and you swear if he could, he’d melt into a puddle. 

“There’s no way King Pain in the Ass over there made these, they’re way too good,” Hikari says, on his third one. He seems to be trying one of each, seeing which he likes. So far? Apparently it’s all of them.

“Cross my heart,” you say, “it was a gallant team effort.”

“Thanks kid,” he calls to the prince, currently entering the room to see his guards happier than he has in a very long time. He will never admit it out loud, for fear of endless mocking, but the sight warms his heart.

Dae-Seong comes up to you, and very politely asks, “Could I get the recipe you used for the maejakgwa? My wife would love these.”

“Of course, Dae-Seong,” you place a kind hand on his forearm. “Give Minji my best will you?”

The man nods, grateful. 

All the recipes today were from your memory, so you get your phone, and start typing it out. 

You have him text it to himself from your phone when you’re finished, and use that as your que to grab the camera.

“Everyone,” you call out, and immediately seven pairs of eyes, with seven full mouths beneath them, are looking at you. Jungkook’s eating some from his own stash, or so you hope. “Crowd your favourite royal on the couch please, it’s picture time.” You shake the camera gently in your hand.

“My favourite royal’s back at the pala–” Hikari tries, but a punch to the shoulder from Jungkook has him laughing in favour of completing the sentence. 

You love the relationship he has with them. Like brothers.

Quickly, Jungkook is squished between the six men, one on either side and four on the floor in front of him. They tried to fit more on the couch but they're all so big that they couldn’t.

“Everyone needs to smile, and if they don't, I'm taking more until they do,” you say pointedly, eyeing up Shen. He only nods that he understands.

“Say Solstice!”

A chorus of deep voiced ‘solstice's' ring your eyes as you look through the eyepiece and snap the picture. It prints out and you leave it with all the others on the coffee table. You see that everyone is smiling in the picture as it develops. 

Perfect. Everything about today has been perfect.

After a few more minutes of chatting, the guards have to get back to their posts, and you’re at the door, wishing everyone a happy break as they leave. 

Shen, as usual, hangs back, wanting to be the last to leave. He’s standing beside Jungkook, both watching you as you bid the others farewell. 

“I like her,” Shen says to Jungkook quietly. 

“Me too,” Jungkook says back. 

Shen can see the prince means that in more than one way.

“Keep her around.”

“I'm trying my best to.”

It’s nearing 7:30, you’re both full after ordering dinner in, not wanting to be anywhere near a kitchen until next week, and working on assignments. Jungkook’s editing some photos, and you’re writing part of an essay from your phone, having completely forgotten to bring your computer in all the excitement. 

“Hey,” you say, sitting in your spot on the couch. You nudge him with a socked foot, he has headphones on so he can focus.

He doesn’t look to you, but removes a headphone. “Yeah?”

You lock your phone, brain mush for the night. “Can we move movie night to tonight? I have an exam at 8am on Monday and I want to use tomorrow to study.”

You’ve been thinking about it for a while, deciding that today would let you know if you needed to make the switch or not. And given that you’ve spent the day on your feet and partially socializing, you doubt you’ll be able to focus for the rest of the night, exhausted. But the good kind of exhausted.

You’ve been taking better care of yourself since that day with Jungkook. Not drastically, but you’re starting to listen to your body’s signals a little more, and right now it’s telling you you need TV and sleep. 

Appointment be damned. You’ll reschedule.

Jungkook hits the space bar and removes his headphones before closing the computer. 

“Yeah, of course. But–” he cuts himself off, looking at the tree in front of him. The lights are low in the apartment and it’s dark out, so the tree shines, glowing from within. The picture of you two still sits in the middle, and the now multiple stacks of polaroids sit around its base like presents. 

“But?”

“But that means I won’t see you after today. I only have two exams left, Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning, then I’m back at the palace.”

Oh. 

Right.

“We don’t have to, I can just study earlier in the d-”

“No! No, it’s okay. It just…it changes a few things,” he bites his lip as he thinks, and places his computer on the coffee table. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes Picasso, please?”

You’re very confused but comply, closing your eyes and waiting. You hear him get up and then him walking, then a door opens. There’s some rummaging before the door closes and his footsteps near again.

The couch dips right beside you.

“Hold out your hands.”

You hold them both out, palms up, and something bumpy and cylindrical is placed in them. 

“Okay, open.”

In your hands is a leather rolling brush case, held shut by not only matching leather strings, but a red ribbon and bow. 

“Oh,” you didn’t know you were doing gifts. “Jungkook. It’s—it’s beautiful.”

“Open it.”

You untie the ribbon, setting it to the side as you also untie the leather strings, and unroll. The case is filled with brushes from Olliveri and Schultz, the best brush makers in the realm. And a small, very surprised gasp escapes you. 

You’ve never once owned any of their products. Their brushes go for $50 at the lowest, for the smallest of brushes.  

Exquisite craftsmanship goes into each and every brush, hand carved wooden handles, the best bristles you can buy, and rust resistant ferrule. You’ve always dreamed of having one of their brushes, and now here you are, with a whole set.

They’re the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Jungkook I—I don’t know what to say. I couldn’t possibly acce-”

“Yes you can. You can and you will. Please. I even made sure they put in an extra fan brush cuz it’s your favourite.” 

You notice the two brushes on the end, identical. 

He remembered. 

A lump is forming in your throat, overwhelmed with gratitude.

“I haven’t—I don’t—,” you take a breath, “I didn’t get you a gift, though.”

“Today was gift enough,” he says, and you can see in his eyes he means every word. “I haven't had a solstice like this in…a really long time, and the memories from today are enough, more than enough. I promise.”

You don’t know what to say, you haven’t been at this much of a loss for words since…ever. You can only think of one thing to convey how thankful you are.

Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you squeeze, his arms immediately around your waist. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, “I love them.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath too, savouring this moment for as long as he can. The feel of your arms around him, squeezing. The soft curve of your body up against his. His hands on your waist, you’re warmth under his touch, or maybe that was him, he can’t tell. And he doesn’t care. 

 It’s the first time you’ve ever initiated physical contact that was more than a nudge or playful shove. 

“You’re welcome, YN. Happy Solstice.” 

Chapter Ten: TBR

A/N 2: Fun fact! The tree and tin foil star are based on what I do irl. I have a dollarstore tree with little baubles and lights, but I made the star from a cereal box and tin foil because there weren't any toppers when I bought it.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[luvfae]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a female reader x Thanos.

What about reader and thanos we’re close before the games both harbouring feelings maybe, but they both have mental health struggles and she is someone who dose things with out thinking of the consequences because she doesn’t care so anyway when they find each other in the games thanos is aware of her tendencies and is like kind of babysitting her.

Like in the first game she makes zero move once she finds out you die and he literally drags her across, and maybe the second game she is always his first choice but she just lays there depressed and cynical and makes sarcastic comments while him and nah gy go around finding team mates or in mingle she makes no move but ofc he always saves her ass, until one night he gives her a rude awakening a harsh pep talk feeling confessing etc. u can put your own spin on it ofc ofc!!

I DON’T CARE

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings: swearing, mention of drugs and alcohol, mental health issues, death, blood, typical squid game stuff

You and Thanos had always been a little fucked up.

That’s what made you close.

You met him at a party two years ago—one of those loud, suffocating nights where everyone was either high, drunk, or trying to be. He was leaning against a balcony, smoking, watching the chaos unfold like it was a movie he’d seen a hundred times before.

You had walked up, grabbed the cigarette from his lips, and took a drag without asking.

He had let you.

“You look like you want to jump,” you had said, staring down at the city lights.

He had snorted. “You look like you wouldn’t care if I did.”

That was the start of it.

You weren’t exactly good for each other, but you understood each other. The reckless, self-destructive tendencies. The numbness that came in waves. You never had to explain why you did the things you did—skipping work for days at a time, getting blackout drunk just to feel something, making choices that could ruin you without thinking twice. Because he got it.

And maybe that was why, despite all the tension, all the times you nearly crossed the line from friends to something else, you never did. Because you knew the second you let him have you, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

Then he disappeared.

You heard the rumors—he got into drugs, got into trouble, owed money to the wrong people. You had reached out once, maybe twice, but you never pushed. And eventually, you stopped trying.

Until now.

Until you saw him again.

Your head was pounding. Your body ached. You barely remembered how you got here, only that you had woken up in this fucking tracksuit with the number 067 on your chest and some masked freak telling you to follow the others.

And then—

“No fucking way.”

Your stomach twisted at the sound of his voice.

You turned.

And there he was.

Thanos.

He looked like hell—bruised knuckles, tired eyes, the same cocky smirk that always made you want to punch him in the face.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flickered over you, as if making sure you were real.

You swallowed. “Yeah. Same.”

Silence stretched between you.

Then he snorted. “I should’ve known you’d end up in some fucked-up shit like this.”

You crossed your arms. “Takes one to know one.”

He huffed a laugh, but there was something behind it. Something tight. Something that made your chest ache.

“How bad?” you asked, voice quieter.

His jaw tensed. “Bad.”

You nodded.

He nodded back.

You didn’t need to say more.

Because he knew what you were asking. And you knew what he wasn’t saying.

And when the sirens blared, when you were herded outside for the first game, when the blood started spilling and the bodies started dropping, you froze.

Gunshots rang out. Bodies collapsed. Screams filled the air, and yet you just stood there, frozen.

You weren’t scared. No, fear would mean you actually cared about living. You simply didn’t see the point. What was the point?

You stood there, staring at the massive doll, blinking slowly as the words “Green Light” echoed in the cold air.

Around you, people were rushing forward, sprinting, their eyes wide with desperation. The tension was palpable, the sound of rapid heartbeats almost deafening as they tried to make it to the end before the next “Red Light.”

You weren’t scared. You weren’t anything. Just numb.

You could hear it—the gasps of fear, the thud of bodies hitting the ground, and then—gunshots.

Someone screamed.

But still, you didn’t move.

The moment it hit you, like a wave crashing over a brittle shore, was that you weren’t just standing still because you were numb. You were standing still because it didn’t matter. If you died here, it wouldn’t matter. If you made it out, what would it change?

Nothing. Everything was pointless.

And that’s when you felt it—Thanos’s hand, strong and relentless, grabbing your wrist, yanking you forward.

“The fuck are you doing?” His voice was a low hiss, filled with fury, but his grip on you didn’t loosen.

Your feet stumbled as you were dragged, fighting for balance. Your mind was foggy, distant, numb to the fear that gripped everyone else. The bloodshed, the screams, the flashing lights—it was like you were standing outside of it all, watching it happen to someone else.

“Move!” Thanos barked, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tried to jerk away, feeling the weight of his grip only tightening.

“I—” You blinked, but your voice felt hollow. “I don’t care.”

The next whistle blew.

Your body jerked with the momentum of his tug, and for a moment, you didn’t feel the ground under your feet. Thanos’s arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you, pulling you through the crowd of bodies that were tumbling and falling like leaves in a storm.

Gunshots rang out in the background. You could see it now—people, falling. Bodies collapsing like ragdolls.

But you didn’t care.

“You wanna die?” Thanos’s voice was harsh, just an inch from your ear, filled with raw anger.

You blinked slowly. “I don’t care,” you repeated, though the words felt strange in your mouth. Almost like a lie you’d told yourself for so long that you’d forgotten what it really meant.

Thanos’s grip tightened. He wasn’t listening, not to your words. He wasn’t letting you slip into that void again. His eyes were wide, jaw clenched, the muscle in his neck pulsing with barely contained frustration. The whistle blew again.

“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, lifting you off your feet entirely now, dragging you forward like you weighed nothing.

He didn’t give you a choice. He didn’t care that you didn’t care. He was going to keep you alive, even if it meant forcing you to fight against the numbness that consumed you.

By the time the countdown ended, you were nearly at the finish line. Your heart thudded in your chest—not from fear, not from adrenaline, but because of the strange, foreign sensation of being pulled back from the edge.

Thanos pushed you across the line. He was breathless, chest heaving from the physical strain of pulling you. His grip on your waist loosened only when the game ended, and the crowd’s screams faded.

When it was over, when the air cleared, you leaned back against the cold wall, your body sliding down to the ground, exhaustion settling in.

Thanos stood there, staring at you, chest heaving in rhythm with yours. His eyes narrowed with something dangerous, something you hadn’t seen before. Something deeper than anger.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he spat, but it lacked the usual humor.

You didn’t answer. You just sat there, staring at the floor. The adrenaline was leaving your system, and all you had left was the heaviness of everything—the gunshots, the blood, the screams.

“I don’t care,” you whispered, almost to yourself.

Thanos crouched in front of you, eyes intense, searching your face for something he didn’t know how to find. Something that he needed to fix.

“No,” he snapped, his hand reaching out to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. “We’re not doing this. Not anymore.”

His fingers dug into your skin, the intensity in his gaze so powerful that you couldn’t look away, even though part of you wanted to. His voice softened, but there was no less fire in it. “I won’t let you throw yourself away.”

Your chest tightened. Something deep inside of you stirred, but it was fleeting. You felt vulnerable, stripped bare in front of him.

“I won’t let you die,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his thumb gently brushing over your skin like it could erase everything you were running from.

You felt the ache in your chest then, the crack that began to form from the pressure of his words. The weight of his care.

And for a second, just a second, it felt like you were actually seen.

—

The next day when the guards announced the next game, you didn’t bother to move. You just sat there, your arms resting on your knees, watching the other players scramble to form teams, trying to sort out the chaos of who was going to be their partner. You could hear the shuffling of feet, the anxious whispers, the desperation in every movement. But none of it touched you. You were past it.

“Get up.”

Thanos’s voice cut through the haze of indifference surrounding you. He was standing over you, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you tilted your head back, staring at the high ceiling above, your mind drifting. He could wait.

“I’m not asking, sweetheart.” His voice was firm now, sharp like a warning. “Get up.”

You sighed, the weight of the world pressing on your chest. This wasn’t even the worst of it. You glanced at him briefly, and for a second, something flickered in your chest—a feeling, a pulse of something that made you almost want to smile. Almost.

You dragged yourself up from the floor with exaggerated slowness, not bothering to hide the way your limbs felt heavy, as if your body didn’t belong to you anymore. The sound of the other players forming teams, their voices blending into the background, became distant.

Thanos didn’t wait for you to make a move. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, pulling you with him toward the group that was gathering to select their partners.

“You’re with me,” he said, without asking, without giving you any say in it. His words weren’t a request—they were a demand.

You raised an eyebrow, raising your free hand to smooth your hair back. “Thanos, you need five people, not just one. Go find your three others.”

He didn’t even look at you as he grunted. “Get up. We’re doing this.”

You weren’t sure why it annoyed you. Maybe it was the way he thought he could just make decisions for you like that, or maybe it was the fact that you didn’t want to give a shit about anything anymore. But instead of arguing, you flopped back against the wall, letting out a deep sigh. “You’re so bossy.”

“I swear, if you don’t—”

“You’ll what?” you asked lazily, watching the other players scramble like rats. “Let me die?”

He stared at you, jaw clenched, clearly fighting the urge to snap at you. You saw the anger flaring in his eyes, the protective instinct swirling beneath the surface. But he said nothing. He didn’t yell at you. He just turned and walked away, a look of frustration flashing across his face.

It was strange. Normally, you’d see that and feel some sick satisfaction. But today, it left you empty, like the familiar edge of tension between you and him had dulled.

After a few moments, he came back. You didn’t look up from where you were sprawled on the floor, your legs stretched out in front of you.

Thanos took the spot next to you. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, silent, his eyes scanning the group. You could tell he was waiting for you to make a move, to show some sign that you were still capable of caring about something.

But you didn’t. You didn’t move.

And maybe that was why, when he spoke again, his voice was softer, quieter. “Come on. We’ve got to find one more person.”

You didn’t answer him. You just kept staring ahead, your eyes unfocused.

Thanos cursed under his breath. “Fine. Stay here. I don’t give a shit. But we’re playing this fucking game.”

When you didn’t react, he stood up, dragging a reluctant Nam-Gyu over to form the rest of the team. You could hear them talking quietly for a moment, but it barely registered in your head.

You hadn’t realized how much it hurt, how much the detachment had taken a toll on you, until you felt him next to you again, the weight of his presence a reminder that something—someone—still cared.

It was just a fleeting moment, but it stung.

“You with me or what?”

You finally looked up at him. The frustration in his eyes hadn’t faded, but there was something else there, something deeper, almost like he was begging you to show up.

You stood without a word, dusting yourself off as you followed him to the designated area.

Thanos didn’t say anything else as the game began. He just watched you, his eyes never leaving you as you moved through the tasks. His hands were steady, precise, but every time you stumbled, he was there to catch you. His grip on your arm was always firm, as if he were trying to anchor you to this world, to this moment where you were still alive.

Every time you fell behind, he didn’t yell. He didn’t berate you. He just pulled you up and kept you going.

And for the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel like you were fighting the game. You weren’t fighting him either.

You were fighting with him.

And as the game stretched on, the realization hit you: this wasn’t just about survival anymore. Thanos wasn’t just keeping you alive because of some unspoken duty or because he had no other choice.

He was doing it because he wanted to.

You couldn’t quite understand it, but you didn’t mind it. Not anymore.

—

The next game felt like a cruel joke.

You stood at the edge of the group, your mind numb to the urgency that seemed to swallow the others whole. The guards had explained the rules—nothing complicated, just survival—yet your body remained unmoving, despite the chaos unfolding around you.

Most of the players immediately scrambled, eyes wide, feet shuffling as they sought safety. You could hear the hurried breaths of your fellow players, the scrape of shoes against the concrete floor, the soft sounds of bodies rushing and tumbling in all directions. Yet, you just… didn’t care.

Everyone else seemed like they were fighting for their lives, but you?

You were waiting for it all to end.

And then, just like that, you felt the heat of a body next to yours. His scent—leather, sweat, something familiar—struck you before you even saw him.

“Nope,” Thanos muttered under his breath as his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist before you could even process what was happening.

You blinked, the numbness in your mind finally starting to fade as he yanked you toward him, pulling you into his space like he’d done countless times before. “Not today,” he said firmly, his voice low with that undercurrent of protectiveness that you had come to know so well.

You didn’t fight him. Not this time. His grip was strong, secure, and for once, you allowed yourself to lean into it. You didn’t want to make the effort to run or find a spot of safety. So you didn’t.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you muttered, looking up at him, your voice quieter than you intended.

Thanos glanced down at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yes, I fucking did,” he replied, his tone hard, his grip never faltering.

You stayed quiet as he pulled you into an empty room, positioning you closer to the wall, where the guards couldn’t reach as easily if for some reason they decided to kill you. But it was more than that—he was keeping you close, making sure no one else could get too near, too close.

You hated how much it comforted you.

The minutes ticked by, the guards’ voices harsh in the background, and still, you stood there, pressed against him. His body was warm, solid, like a shield. You didn’t think about how strange it felt to have him act like this—to be the one protecting you. No, you just let him, because for once, it felt like you had a reason to stay.

You weren’t sure how much time passed, but it was enough for the panic to begin to settle. Enough for you to breathe again. You weren’t entirely safe, not yet. But for the first time in days, you weren’t just surviving; you were simply existing.

And it felt like an eternity before the sirens sounded, signaling the end of the game. The crowd around you began to move, restless and relieved.

Thanos released his hold on you just slightly, but he didn’t step away. His fingers lingered for a moment before dropping to his side.

“Think you can make it on your own?” His voice was quieter now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

You blinked, suddenly aware of how close the two of you still were, the heat between you both suddenly charging the air in a way that made your chest tighten.

“Maybe,” you muttered, looking away. “But you’re not exactly a bad guy to have around.”

Thanos snorted, a dark humor creeping into his voice. “Don’t get used to it.”

But you could feel his eyes on you, and despite everything—despite the absurdity of it all—you felt something inside shift. The games weren’t over, but something between you and Thanos had already changed.

And you weren’t sure if you could go back.

—

That night, Thanos snapped.

“I can’t keep babysitting you,” he growled, pacing in front of you.

You sat on the floor, arms wrapped around your knees, staring ahead blankly. “I never asked you to.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? Then what, I should’ve let you fucking die?”

You didn’t answer.

That only pissed him off more.

“You act like nothing matters. Like you don’t give a shit if you live or die. But guess what, sweetheart?” He crouched in front of you, gripping your chin, forcing your eyes on him.

“I give a shit.”

Your breath caught.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck happened to you. I don’t know why you’re like this. But you do not get to throw yourself away.” His voice dropped lower. “Not when I—”

His grip faltered. His expression twisted.

Not when I care about you.

The words never came, but you felt them.

Something deep inside you cracked.

You swallowed hard. Your throat burned. Your chest ached. The weight of his words, of everything you’d been avoiding, came crashing down on you all at once.

For the first time in days, you felt something.

And you weren’t sure if that terrified you more than the games themselves.

But one thing was clear.

For Thanos, you’d try.

Even if you didn’t know how.

Something had changed.

It was subtle, but it was there.

Thanos didn’t say anything after that night—no more lectures, no more scolding. He just sat with you in the dark, his shoulder pressed against yours, and let the silence stretch between you.

But you could feel it. The weight of his words. The rawness in his voice when he said, I give a shit.

And maybe, just maybe, you had started to give a shit too.

Because the next morning, when the guards announced the next game, you didn’t drag your feet. You stood up. You followed. You let Thanos find you in the crowd without him having to pull you by the wrist.

You saw the way he looked at you—like he noticed the change, like he was waiting for you to slip back into that numb, hollow state again.

You didn’t.

Not yet.

[durgeapologist]

Omg your blog is such a relief. Every day I feel more and more like I want to distance myself from about 80% of the Solavellan community bc I am telling you it is ROUGH being into the egg and wanting to talk about him but being surrounded by people who think that everyone and their mother is out to get them. Meanwhile someone can come up with valid criticisms about how Lavellan's characterization was handled in VG and get swarmed with unsolicited opinions about solrook shippers and accusations of misogyny. I also see them running around in posts that are clearly marked as "Critical" And half the time when I CAN talk to them about Solas it's like they aren't even talking about the same character I am? They want him to be some helpless little abuse victim who isn't responsible for anything he does??? Why are we redeeming him if he did nothing wrong? What would be the point? We love him because he's fucked up and a manipulative bastard but also complex???? Did we play the same game girlies???

i have been staring at this ask since it came in trying to find a normal way to respond to you anon i will be so fr rn so i am so sorry it's taken a few hours

i’ll start with this:

“Why are we redeeming him if he did nothing wrong?”

full stop. this. so much. (i am in love with you anon) why is there a atonement/redemption ending if he did nothing wrong? (you’re literally so real) solas has done horrendous things. like genuinely abhorrent. (i crave to be your friend so bad anon) he is a genocidal, serial killing, manipulative lying cunt. to say the least. AND THAT IS WHY I LOVE HIM. he has such complex characteristics that make him so intriguing. he wants to be a good person. but he doesn’t really know how to be genuine. he is riddled with guilt and regret. he feels BAD about the things he has done. but he doesn’t want to face his mistakes. he knows he has done absolutely terrible things in the name of his people and their liberation, things most of them never asked him to do. some even asked him to NOT DO THOSE THINGS. did he listen? of course not! this is solas we are talking about. arrogant, prideful, calculating solas.

“They want him to be some helpless little abusive victim who isn’t responsible for anything he does.”

yes. yep. THIS SO BAD. (genuinely let me be your friend pls i am on my knees begging) the dynamic between solythal gets convoluted by most solasmancers because of three things: misogyny, jealousy, and ignorance. was there abuse? yeah. not denying that. was there only abuse? no. mythal was a victim of abuse herself. the way she learned to love, she passed down to solas. BOTH were victims of abuse who did terrible, no good, awful things. BOTH were also extremely powerful, omnipotent, and power-hungry individuals. mythal's hunger for power showcased differently than solas' and was amplified (IMO) by elgar'nan whispering in her ear. solas had felassan to keep him in check.

i am of the UPMOST certainty that had solas not taken down the evanuris the way he did and went to sleep after creating the veil, he would have become another tyrant ruling over the elven people. (THE MASKED EMPIRE ANYONE? HELLO? HELLOOOOO?) also anyone who says she was his MOTHER or SISTER?? god please drown me. put me in a tub and hold my head under water. that was his PARTNER AND HIS LOVER. i cannot with the takes that she raised his ass COME ON. i have sooooo much more to say about this dynamic and the themes of abuse AND how solasmancers twist it to make her this most evil, vile, horrible woman; but i would like to keep some of my followers tbh (anon i am frothing at the mouth if you want to discuss this further i beg you to dm me) so we shall move on.

"...valid criticisms about how Lavellan's characterization was handled in VG..."

yeah full stop i will never forgive them for making her one personality type. sorry, i just won't. my lavellan egg-mancer was a strong-willed and angry proud dalish woman who told solas off every chance she could! i am genuinely so happy people who wanted the dynamic we got in VG got that, because that is how their lavellan is/was, but what about the lavs who punched him? who told him to stop being an asshole about elves, and just farmed approval for the romance by asking questions? i chose to hunt his ass down BECAUSE I WANTED TO HUNT HIS ASS DOWN! my lavellan would not be so understanding or forgiving, she just wouldn't, so it feels like my girl's personality was ripped away from her fr. now, i DO NOT agree with some of the takes on how she was presented because those criticisms are in fact riddled with misogyny and most are just downright vile. but i do agree with the criticisms that not all lavellans would have been so kind to that bald man.

so anon, TRUST me when i say i feel you so bad. i was in lots of solavellan spaces before i started shipping dreadrook, and even then i was looked at SO funny for my takes on the romance and called plenty of terrible things simply because i didn't hold solas up on this pedestal and make my lav worship the ground he walked on. even as a dreadrooker, the same exact takes that i couldn't get behind in solav spaces are very prevalent in dreadrook spaces. solasmancers have a tendency to simply agree with solas on everything and refuse to acknowledge how bad of a person he really can be.

i am a proud solasmancer AND a proud solas hater. #1 solas hater, in fact. i rarely have positive things to say about his actions and behaviors outside of a joke setting, and even in a joke setting the things people will say to defend him RUB ME SO BADLY THE WRONG WAY. also heavy on the perusing the "critical" tags and getting offended when my takes are, in fact, critical LMFAO. anon i am literally a beggar sitting on the side of the street waving a metal cup at you asking for coins of your affection rn. i have maybe one other friend who feels like this and have hardly anyone to rant about these things with. holding my hands out towards you and begging you to dm me fr. PLEASE. we can be critical together <3

[keisenthusiast]

pov: you are dating oikawa tooru

[oikawa tooru+fluff+dating+headcanon]

words count: 754

dating oikawa tooru is basically like dating someone who is both your biggest headache and your biggest fan. he’s dramatic, he’s affectionate, he’s confident—except when he’s not, and that’s when you see the real him. the one that’s overworked, constantly trying to prove himself, and secretly a little insecure. but if there’s one thing that never changes, it’s how much he adores you. he’s also one of the most devoted boyfriends you could ever have. he loves loudly. he makes sure you know exactly how much he adores you, whether it’s through grand gestures, teasing texts, or random compliments that leave you speechless.

he is so proud to be with you. it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been dating, he still acts like he’s trying to impress you. one time, he played an entire practice match better than usual just because you were watching. iwaizumi literally dragged him by the collar afterward like, “stop showing off, trashykawa.” he’s so in love with you, and he makes sure you and everyone else knows it.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 things he does:

- sends you soooo many selfies. sometimes he looks good, sometimes he’s making the ugliest face possible. usually with captions like "thinking about u~" or "this is the face of a man in love with u (lucky u!)" either way, he expects compliments.

- keeps a picture of you in his volleyball bag. not just on his phone, but physically. when makki and mattsun found out, they would not shut up about it.

- walks you home after practice, even if his legs are dead tired, because “what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you go alone?”

- insists on braiding your hair if it’s long enough, “trust me, i have an older sister, i know what i’m doing.” if it’s short, he just plays with it absentmindedly when you sit next to him!

- sometimes steals your hoodies, your hair ties, your snacks—anything that belongs to you, he will claim.

- insists on calling you his [y/n], like it’s a title. “sorry, i have plans with my [y/n] today,” he’ll say dramatically, hand over his chest like he’s the most devoted boyfriend in the world.

- very touchy. a hand on your waist, fingers brushing against yours, a kiss on your forehead before a match—absolutely demands a good luck kiss before every game. even if it’s just a forehead tap or a quick peck on the cheek, he won’t step on the court without it.

- loves taking couple pictures. like, a ridiculous amount. “wait, wait, the lighting is good here—one more!!”

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 how he handles arguments:

- oikawa is stubborn. and sometimes, his pride gets the better of him. when you two argue, he tends to react on instinct, maybe gets a little defensive at first, a little whiny “but that’s not what i meant—”. but once he cools down, he really cools down. he’s self-aware enough to know when he’s being immature, and even if it takes him a few hours, he will come back and apologize properly.

- step one: pout dramatically somewhere nearby, making it obvious he’s sulking.

step two: rethink everything he said, realize he was kind of dumb, groan into his hands.

step three: find you, hug you from behind, and sigh deeply “okay, okay, i get it. i was wrong.”

step four: bury his face into your shoulder and dramatically whine about how much he missed you in the last three hours of not talking.

- he’s not afraid to admit when he messes up because he hates being on bad terms with you. he’d rather swallow his pride than stay upset, but he also makes sure to explain how he feels, too. he wants you to understand why he acted a certain way, not just say sorry and move on.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 how things is with his fans..?:

- you definitely get some side-eyes from his fangirls, but oikawa is surprisingly firm about it. he likes that people admire him, but he loves you. and he makes that clear.

- oikawa, to his credit, is never dismissive about your feelings. if you ever feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed, he takes it seriously. he reassures you constantly, never giving you a reason to doubt his feelings.

- whenever someone crosses the line—like leaving mean comments about you, he doesn’t hesitate to shut it down, “if you respect me, you should respect my relationship, too.”

- he also makes it obvious he’s taken. posting pictures with you, walking you home, literally introducing you as his girlfriend, it’s impossible to mistake it.

also, i kinda want to talk about this:

i saw some people on tt talking about this n someone said "she probably dumped him because he's flirty with his fans" hmmm i don't think so 😊 i feel like it was probably more about his obsession with volleyball. we've literally see how intense he is with vb, his entire life revolves around the sport. i wouldn’t be surprised if he neglected his relationship without realizing it, which would obviously a much bigger issue. so yeah, i doubt it was because of the fangirls. but like, it hasn't been confirmed so..

i apologize if there's any mischaracterization!

[yubellia]

Tales of a traveling Creator…. „Am I an author now?…“

Imagine that we, the creator, finally made it back home. Back home to Teyvat that is. „Because this is where you belong, your grace!~“…. Yeah… great.

Actually, life is pretty sweet. Sure, there are certain things we don‘t have in Teyvat but… we can look past that. Mostly.

The characters don‘t know that for us, all of this was a game. Literally a video game. And there were many others too.

Now imagine how it must feel to never see your favorite show or cartoon again. How it feels to never play your favorite games again. (Especially if you know that a series would get a new game or season soon…. Gosh the horror!)

One day, you notice how your memories of these things start to fade. You forget the name of a character. Small things. But it’s scary enough to make you do something. You do the next best thing.

„Somebody bring me empty notebooks and writing tools! Hurry!“ Your always loyal followers almost run over each other to get what you requested.

And so starts the time period of none stop writing. Really. You carry notebooks everywhere. You start to write down the plot of your favorite games, shows, movies. You name it.

Until one day, because it had to happen, someone asked you where this enthusiasm came from. You and some of the other archons were having tea and snacks in inazuma. Ei insisted that you had to come for a visit again. Zhongli, your loyal shield („shield for what?“ „better be safe than sorry.“), Nahida was there too. Naturally considering that she is pretty much your daughter. Ei brought Miko with her and that’s when it happened.

„Your grace? I heard you always carry these notebooks around these days. Would you be willing to share your thoughts with us? Hm?~“

Zhongli gave Miko a slightly stern look but you shook it off. „sure. Why not. You see, i noticed that i started to forget certain things. Books I read in the other world.“ (you had to think on how to put this.) „stage plays I saw, songs and the adventures I had in…. Other worlds.“ „you visited other worlds too? Like the traveler?“ „yes. I did. Just like with the traveler or you guys, I used…. ‚Vessels‘ and guided them through their adventures. And i started writing things down so that I won‘t forget.“ You showed them a picture. „I even used my powers to create images of the characters.“

Miko‘s ears started to twitch. „Oh my…. Would you mind if… I took a look at that?“

„Sure…. But wait. Not this one. Here. This story is finished.“

You take another notebook from your pocket and hand it over. Miko promises to take very good care of it and the others look on in jealousy.

That was a few weeks ago. You continued. You did everything you could. Even create pages with character sheets and detailed descriptions.

One day, there is a long line in front of a book store. You could hear the owner talk about the newest story.

„Witness the the tale of a chosen hero in a distant world! A fight between good and evil. An innocent child chosen by destiny and the gods! One of their graces many vessels in another realm. This is The legend of Zelda. Ocarina of Time.“

For a moment, you just stood there with your mouth slightly open… „Miko…. Why? Zhongli can you believe it?….. Zhongli?“

You didn’t get an answer because instead of next to you, Zhongli was waiting in line for a copy of the book…..

„Oh hello your grace! The people of Inazuma and Teyvat as a whole love the adventure of the young hero and the princess…. When I read it, I just new it would be a hit.“

You didn’t have it in you to be surprised when Miko showed up. Oh and Zhongli returned with a copy of the book soon after that.

„So… I am an author now?“

„Well, it would be a shame to keep you loyal readers hanging no? Also, I heard some people discuss the criteria for becoming someone worthy of your guidance.“

„Well fortunately Link and Zelda have enough adventures. And i visited enough worlds…..“

Once Zhongli is next to you again, you grab his sleeve and pull him away before others see you.

(Heaven forbid I tell them about Kingdom hearts. The legend of Zelda has enough lore to keep them busy.)

[rustedleopard]

Miscellaneous list of headcanons that I have for my "Clover Lives In the Underground Instead of Sacrificing Themself" AU

(Starlo and Clover/Wild East edition)

Starlo refers to Clover as his "golden hearted deputy," both in reference to their kind nature and also a cheesy pun because their SOUL is literally "golden hearted" (but sssh. Starlo is literally a shooting star, cheesy puns are his thing because he is a pun). This term of endearment embarrasses Clover every time he says it.

In general, Starlo is the sort to heap on praise when he's talking about Clover. All of their friends have something nice they can say about Clover but Starlo is the one that will boast the most to the point that Clover gets embarrassed enough to walk away or hide their face in their hands. While they like that Starlo has nice things to say about them, he lays it on way too thick. It's overwhelming.

Starlo is still the #1 cowboy though. That never changes.

I hc that Clover has terrible stage fright so unfortunately they are unable to do the big LARPs/performances that Starlo and the Feisty Four do. If they notice too many people watching them, they will freeze up. Over time, they manage to overcome it enough to do smaller one-on-one performances/acts for small groups but they can't handle a performance where the whole town is watching. They're Starlo's stage hand and work behind the scenes during those.

Their character is the "strong and silent type" to accommodate how not talkative they are.

In order to get into character, Clover puts a stalk of wheat between their lips and that's it. It took them ages to stop instinctively eating the wheat though.

Starlo and Clover are both really into cowboys and Westerns, which is fantastic! Unfortunately, the tape labeled "0/10 Don't watch this one :(" in the Feisty Five shack is Clover's favorite movie. Ah, the pain of having the same passion as someone but different tastes! (They still agree on most things about westerns, but the debates when they disagree on a finer point/on what they like? Woof. Who knew things could get so intense between two nerds?)

Despite wielding a gun, Clover has no experience with other western things. The last time they rode a horse was during a Renaissance fair that was hosted in their town when they were 5-6. They don't know how to make a lasso. Stuff like that. Starlo is more than enthused to give Clover special deputy lassons.

Starlo tried to host the first lasson at 4 in the morning. Clover was not happy with this. Every following lasson has taken place at a more reasonable hour.

While Starlo spends the most amount of time with Clover (out of the Five), all of the Feisty Four has spent time with Clover one-on-one. Each of them have taught Clover their own tricks/things.

Ed taught Clover how to juggle (I hc that Ed learned how to juggle when he was younger to teach himself dexterity with his huge hands and now he does it for fun).

Moray teaches Clover the guitar and they sometimes have private duets playing the guitar and harmonica together.

Ace teaches Clover sleight of hand, magic tricks, card games, and how to cheat at those card games.

Mooch teaches Clover how to pickpocket. While Clover has stolen stuff multiple times throughout the game, they didn't know how to swipe directly off people until Mooch taught them.

Martlet and Starlo alternate weeks on who has Clover. This schedule is flexible if the Royal Guard is getting suspicious, so sometimes Starlo/Martlet will get extra days with Clover if the RG is doing an investigation around Snowdin/The Dunes.

(Ceroba spends time with Clover when they're in the Wild East so it's not like they've forgotten about her entirely. I'll elaborate when it's Ceroba's time)

When Clover first started staying in the Wild East, the Royal Guard got called on them. A lot. Even though Starlo lies to try to cover up their presence ("You think Clover's a human? Nah, that's just their hat giving you that impression.") and talked to the regulars about keeping things hush (they're fine with keeping quiet because they like Starlo, they don't want to upset their sheriff, and Clover is a good kid), that doesn't deter everyone. It felt like almost every other day, the Royal Guard was showing up to capture the human and Starlo and the Four had to scramble to hide Clover somewhere.

List of places that Clover has been hidden (non-exhaustive): In pretty much every crate/barrel in the WE, in the rafters of the stables, behind the bar in the Saloon, locked up in jail and covered in blankets to hide their form, dropped in the Dunes well (one time), behind the curtains on the Saloon stage. It's gotten to the point that Clover went from "Oh no, the Royal Guard is coming!" to "Seriously, I gotta hide again? I just opened my root beer :(" They're used to contorting themself into a pretzel in order to fit into whatever thing that they're getting crammed into. Thankfully they're not claustrophobic.

Undyne eventually got frustrated with running down to the Wild East to handle the human she could never find (if they even exist) so she has cameras installed all throughout the Dunes. Starlo gathers up the Feisty Five and is like "Okay gang, our next mission is to take out every camera in the Dunes while also making it look like an accident 😀" Eventually cameras stop getting installed and she stops responding to most reports coming from the Dunes.

Starlo is legitimately a thorn in Undyne's side; she HATES him so much. Even post UT Pacifist when it comes out that Clover was living in the Wild East and Undyne can understand why he was so protective because she has Frisk and would die/kill for them, that doesn't stop him from being on her personal shit list.

Clover earns their own wage around the Wild East by doing odd jobs/helping Dina with serving customers (non-alcoholic) drinks/food when things get busy in the Saloon. Clover still has their sense of independence.

Starlo has his bar tab extended to include any of Clover's purchases regardless.

Clover joins in with Ceroba when it comes to teasing. They don't tease him nearly as much as she does and it's never mean-spirited. It's stuff like:

The Feisty(j) Five is now the Feisty(j) Five(+1). The "j" and "+1" are silent. The alliteration is preserved!

It really bothered Starlo for a while trying to come up with an alliteration to suit the six of them (the Supreme Six? The Spirited Six?) while also giving everyone in the intro their own part (Clover would obviously be "Justice" except that's Starlo's part). Eventually Clover was the one to point out that it's best that they aren't included because it'd make the Royal Guard suspicious since they can't show their face around the RG yet there's supposed to be six of them in the group if they're called "The [insert adjective here] Six." And while Starlo wants to have them included, unfortunately their reasoning for being excluded is sound.

Out of all of Clover's friends, Starlo is the most vocal about how unfair it is that Clover has to live in secret. They're a great kid, he wants to show them off, it's not fair that he has to hide them because other people want them dead for who they are.

Blackjack still respects Clover even though he can't stand the rest of the Five because Clover is always quiet and polite when they visit. The Five usually sends in Clover to do shopping for them because Blackjack is nicer to them, but it also creates a hilarious situation where Clover is walking in and out of the shop carrying messages for Starlo/Blackjack when they're bartering.

Starlo doesn't swear whenever Clover is around (true in canon btw. He only swears in the Flawed Pacifist ending). Clover, meanwhile, has no trouble with swearing.

Starlo and Clover have a bit of a dynamic in the Wild East where, if there's a problem and someone wants something done about it, it's best to go to Clover. But if someone wants to talk to someone about the problem, it's best to go to Starlo. Because Clover will fix that problem if you ask but they might look at you like you're an idiot if the reason why you got into trouble was very dumb (I just see Clover as kind but not nice, okay. I'm deeply attached to that interpretation of them). Meanwhile, Starlo would talk to you about addressing the problem and will get around to it, but he's a busy person so it might not be handled immediately/he's more likely to forget.

Even though Starlo can be too much at times and Clover finds themself rolling their eyes at some of his antics, they do trust him and look up to him. They're shy about admitting these things but they do love him a lot.

[chilledstrawberrysoda]

Do you guys ever think about that scene in trk when it's during half time of the game where Andrew is playing both halves and he looks as depressed as he normally does when he's off his meds and Neil is so annoyed with him and his indifference toward exy that he actually blurts out "stop that!" And everyone stops talking to stare at him. Andrew says "I'm not doing anything" and Neil is like "exactly" and then he's just like whatever no time for this and moves on.

How baffling must that have been for literally everyone else in the room??? This is the thing about reading the books from Neil's perspective because half of his thoughts never get verbalized and he just starts talking when he's already had most of the conversation in his head. We know what he's talking about because we have a direct view of his thoughts but everyone else is in the dark and I think the comedic potential is so good but imagine actually witnessing something like Neil Josten?

He does it a few times throughout the books, I think he does it to Dan and Matt twice and I can't imagine being in their position like oh oh he's finally talking and I didn't understand what he was referring to at all back up, Neil, what are you on about???

Half the time the other characters just give him a look that I assume is very confused and he goes "oh right" and backtracks but when he has any strong emotion happening he almost never goes back and explains himself. I think the first time he does it is when he confronts Kevin over Andrew going through his stuff and he just starts talking and everyone is like ????

[midnight--sadness]

what do you think about gi hun not helping the homeless man and betting in someone helping him?

hm, this is kind of a complicated answer for me to give!

i think that gihun wasn't being selfish for not going to help the man. i know some people use this as prove that gihun changed due to the games and now he's content (🤨) and willing (🤨) to let others get hurt without getting involved because the games took away his compassion.

well, to that i say that even during the games, when deoksu starts beating that man, gihun didn't get involved either. i also don't think this is a bad thing because i think it's just survival? if gihun got between them he would get jumped on by deoksu's crew most likely or deoksu would hit him himself.

in the first episode when gihun shoves deoksu aside to get to saebyeok, we can see that gihun only actually sees deoksu after he started talking to him. before that, gihun was acting impulsively to reach saebyeok.

now, during the talk with ilnam, i honestly can't fault gihun for not going to help the man.

he had just discovered that the old man whom he had met and kept safe during the games, who had shared so many moments with gihun, who had sacrificed himself during marbles to let gihun live, is actually not a fellow victim, but a perpetrator.

ilnam didn't die like gihun had thought. gihun mourned this man, so much so that sangwoo even tells him to stop it because he barely knew ilnam and had no reason to be affected.

and he discovers that ilnam is not only alive but also the reason why the games happen, why gihun lost his friends, why so many people died.

gihun deserved answers! he deserved to know why ilnam did what he did! i don't think it's that crazy to accept that gihun would stay with ilnam. who knows what would happen if he left? it was obvious ilnam was near death, he could literally die without gihun knowing anything. he could be moved somewhere else and gihun would never see him again.

now, i know that gihun didn't get that many answers but at least ilnam gave him an explanation. it was an insane explanation but it was one nonetheless.

besides, what's to say that gihun wasn't going to talk to ilnam and then leave to help the man? they had a bet going on, i know, but after getting his answers gihun could leave. someone helped the man before he could and he "won" the bet, of course.

i think gihun not helping him was more symbolic, in a sense. maybe was seeing that maybe he himself didn't have to go help someone, that there would always be people like himself who could lend a hand. i think it showed gihun that he wasn't alone in his way of thinking.

honestly, using this scene as a gotcha moment to talk about gihun's supposed change because of the games is very strange. i think gihun's plan in s2 is more of a show of how his priorities change as he gets more frustrated by the games and his inability to actually keep people save.

[cosmicoceanfic]

What’s the origin of your blog title?

My username on AO3 is cosmicocean and somebody already has that URL and even if they didn’t at this point I’ve been directing people to this one too long to change it.

OTPs shipname

I’m in Star Wars mode so I’m gonna go with my best beloved Stormpilot but as always shoutout to Destiel which is why I assume most of you are here.

Favorite color

I love a purple.

Favorite game

Mariokart, although I’ve become partial to Stardew Valley.

Song stuck in your head

Until Olympius Returns (Jordan Lake version).

Weirdest habit/trait

Uhhhh fuck man. OCD folks got a lot of these. When I was a kid I only stopped exercising on the treadmill once it hit an even number?

Hobbies

Writing fanfiction, knitting, and crochet.

If you work, what’s your profession

Unemployed, regrettably.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

I have a couple answers to this, but I’m gonna say I would love to own a fiber shop in Brookline, Massachusetts.

Something you’re good at

Writing, mostly, as it turns out.

Something you’re bad at

Writing fight scenes and every social interaction I’ve ever had

Something you love

My friends and family, and also burgers.

Something you could talk about for hours and hours off the cuff

Does it have to be educational or can I just spend a lot of time expounding on my love for The Titanic?

Something you hate

I am also gonna go for texture here so I can bitch about how salmon has the best taste and the worst mouthfeel.

Something you collect

I do not have a collector’s budget, but if I did, I would be awash in typewriters.

Something you forget

I have that shitty ADHD working memory, so literally everything.

What’s your love language?

Any time I see hot sauce in the wild I buy a bottle for one of my best friends. so probably something like that.

Favorite movie/show

My favorite movies and shows rotate around on a pretty regular basis, but I’m about to start posting an AU where the Mandalorian adopts Rey so I guess right now it’s The Force Awakens and The Mandalorian.

Favorite food

Probably ice cream or cake. Birthday party ass answer.

Favorite animal

Dogs.

What were you like as a child?

A bundle of nerves, mostly.

Favorite subject at school?

Creative writing.

Least favorite subject at school?

MATH.

What’s your best character trait?

I love people very deeply, I think.

What’s your worst character trait?

When I’m going through an anxiety spiral I get VERY fucking annoying VERY quickly has got to be up there.

If you could change any detail of your life, what would it be?

I would have approximately fifteen million dollars in my bank account. I was gonna say “and also a two bedroom apartment in Brookline” but the fifteen mil will get me there (barely)

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

Uhhhhh fuck. I never think about this. Cary Grant, maybe? For perfectly legitimate, non horny reasons?

I’m tagging @dont-offend-the-bees, @kieren-fucking-walker, and anyone else who wants to do this!

Get to know your mutuals!!!

cheers @stevie-marigold for tagging me!

What's the origin of your blog title?

doccy who! plus me mum always used to say i have telescopic arms. personally i think they're a normal length

OTP(s) Shipname:

johnlock, i will forever be a johnlocker no matter which version of those freaks we're talking about

Favourite colour:

orange <3

Favourite game:

factorio! i greatly enjoy the spagetti of it

Song stuck in your head:

antmusic by adam and the ants

Weirdest habit/trait?

darling everything i do is deeply weird, couldn't do something normal if i tried

Hobbies:

writing, reading, nuisance making, music enjoying, getting in the way, and various wool-related crafts

If you work, what's your profession?

im the imp who sits in your camera and paints the pictures for you (im out of blue btw)

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

id invent hexopostcards, which are hexagonal postcards and only have pictures of six sided things on. if a thing has more than six sides than you've got to have the seventh+ side(s) off the edge of the postcard. if it has less than six you have to draw where the rest of the sides could feasibly be. then id retire

Something you're good at:

answering questions truthfully

Something you're bad at:

eating dog food

Something you love:

doing jigsaws

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff:

doccy who. i just do that anyway

Something you hate:

jigsaws that have too much sky so its all just blue (doesn't include my starry night puzzle)

Something you collect:

vinyls, posters, things ill use someday, names, ideas of things to write

Something you forget:

my best friends birthday. i have it written down and i still forget consistently

What's your love language?

circular gallifreyan

Favourite movie/show:

oh theres so many. doccy who and torchwood, sherlock, merlin (im really from a specific time going by those answers) loads of films too but, to say an obscure one to make me sound cool, mcfarland usa

Favourite food:

the souls of the damned. failing that pasta

Favourite animal:

@zelda-wheelz

What were you like as a child?

weird nervous about everything and a nerd

Favourite subject at school?

maths! don't ask me to remember a single thing from my alevels though

Least favourite subject:

drama. hated acting in front of all those eyes

What's your best character trait?

i like to think im quite nice

What's your worst character trait?

asking @zelda-wheelz the answers for half these questions

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

id move

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

george michael, so long as i can bring my mum

tagging: @captainfairygodmother @b1uetrees @by-gray

[hylian-lavender]

Have I ever talked about how much I love the beast Ganon battle from Twilight Princess? First of all, the music is so primal. It's percussion heavy and its got this wild deep chanting and the melody itself is just...strange. It's the perfect accompaniment to the fight because all the decorum is thrown out the window. Forget honor and pride. Forget swords and sorcery. In this moment, Link and Ganondorf are just two beasts trying to literally tear each other apart. Ganon tries to gore Link with his tusks, and Link rips into Ganon's stomach wound with his fangs. It's so violent and animalistic and it makes me fucking feral.

[sammygender]

sam’s life is like a possession john hands over to dean right before he dies with the words ‘save him or kill him’. sure dean has always protected sam, always cared for sam, but in that moment dean inherits sam. all decisions about sam become dean’s, just like before all decisions about sam were supposed to be john’s <3 has he ever had a scrap of autonomy in his life. has anyone ever thought he deserved it

[waspgrave]

now there was no reason for lucanis to be given purple johnny silverhand as a plot point and then never have the purple johnny silverhand utilized except for maybe 3 or 4 times in the game (if you saved Treviso, otherwise it's twice) and dialogue. Dialogue where he pretty much just says weird and funny things and occasionally gets scolded like a dog which is entertaining sure but there is Literally A Demon In One Of The Companions Why Is This Not A Bigger Deal

[mikashisus]

INDIRECT #1

ur so cool. LIKE SO COOL !!! and u always have the BEST takes omg. this might give it away but every time u yap about the issues with genshin, im like that one guy in the audience cheering u on even though everyone else is silent LMAOO

yk that one copypasta that’s like “[rare take] i say into the mic. everyone boos me off stage. “THEYRE RIGHT” someone shouts in the back” or wtv it was that was on stantwt a few yrs ago 😭 YEAH THAT ONE PERSON IS ME :om:

pls NEVER stop talking abt the issues in hyv games, ur so right every time. also ily for chronically liking my posts on my side blog. my biggest fan fr mwah mwah

also !!!! ur literally one of the funniest ppl ever, and whenever we’re in vc, ur voice is always so soothing. if u were to stream anything, i’d watch :3 #lurv u pookie 🤍

hopping on the bandwagon - mutuals like this post for an indirect

[beatcroc]

Thoughts on the incident?

[thefloatingwriter]

“would you fall in love with me again” from epic but it’s beetress if wiress didn’t die in the arena and was taken to the capitol.