#as you can imagine i did not get very far.

[lorasdolly]

Can i ask for Pregnant Wife!reader x Wife Ambessa. Reader is pregnant and Horny and goes and interrupts ambessa in her war meeting or some kind of meeting with like generals and important people, and Ambessa is very firm and kind and obeys her wife and just smut please 🌸

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀

You're early in your second trimester and to summarize it plainly; it's horrible. Legs cramps, swelling, headaches, backache, heartburn, and so much more. Additionally, you've have some increase in energy and lack of sleep.

Ambessa has been nothing but obedient since your pregnancy was announced to her and the rest of Noxus. She'll massage any and every inch of your body, kiss and worship it, shut down ceremonies for you, feed you, and anything that leaves your lips will be granted.

Today, your body was driving you crazy. The aching at your core, the heat pooling at the bottom of your tummy, and the slick from your cunt soaking the panties you had on. Ambessa had been quite busy too, meetings back to back, paperwork, hardly any time for you.

You wanted to fight and argue with her, mood swings tempting you to go storm in there and yell at her with tears trickling down your face. Call her all sorts of names; bad wife, meany, and more immature, childish taunts.

Yet the first time you did that, practically publicly humiliating her, she handled it far better than anyone else. She cradled your face, wiped your tears, and assured you she'd take care of everything you had going on.

Instead, today you decided to wobble your way over to the grand hall. Discussions were loud and sounded even through the thick walls, you could hear Ambessa's powerful voice calling for order and you already knew she was upset with the people gathered inside.

You swung the doors open, eyebrows knitting together as you made your way towards Ambessa at the end of the oval-shaped table. "God, 'Bessa!" You spoke, your heels clacking on the marble floor. Ambessa immediately stood, her arms wide as you stand before her.

"Dear, anything particular that brought you here?" She spoke lightly, not paying any mind to the murmurs in the hall. You nodded, your hands at her biceps for leverage. "Need you, 'Bessa, now!" You whined like a spoiled child and she sighed, her gaze darting around the room.

She grabbed your hand within hers, "Okay, dearest, let us go," She spoke firmly, placing her large hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the door without making a grand disturbance. Ambessa was proud that you came in quietly and asked for what was needed instead of causing a scene.

"God, we're talking here!" A man yelled, his fists slamming against the center table. A shiver ran up your spine and Ambessa's jaw clenched. She would've taken care of that man right there, but it could've stressed you out, it might've put strain on your body.

She takes a deep breath and keeps walking before he speaks again, "Can't you control your damned wife? She's like a dog! Always getting herself where she doesn't belong—"

Ambessa thoughtlessly grabbed the man's jaw with her hand, practically lifting him off the seat, her eyes seething. His hand came towards hers, grabbing at it, his eyes pleading an apology. You were there, biting your bottom lip.

You didn't imagine you'd be this much of a bother. The only things running through your head were "Why do you always have to mess everything up?"

You grabbed at your gown and rushed out towards you and Ambessa's quarters, unable to watch the scene you had created any longer. Ambessa released the man without second thought and ran to you, opening and slamming doors till she reached the bedroom.

"Dear, god," Ambessa said, watching the tears developing in your eyes as you clench the covers in your fists. She sat besides you, cradling your body to her larger frame. "Why are you crying? Why'd you storm out?"

You tried to not let the crying turn into blubbering so you held onto Ambessa and took deep breaths. "I— I didn't think my request would cause so much trouble again–" She cut you off, her thumb tracing your bottom lip.

"You caused no trouble. That man caused it for himself, are you listening to me?" You wanted to argue and disagree, yet the firm spark in her eye made you imagine how she'd react to another disagreement.

You nodded, pursing your lips, eyes scanning the room everywhere but on Ambessa. "Now, what was that you wished of me, dearest?" She asked softly, laying you down fully on the bed with tenderness, careful not to give you too much movement.

You whimpered, hands tangling into her hair. "I feel so achey, 'Bessa." You spoke, legs spreading and make room for her.

"God, you are awfully childish with your words," She rolled her eyes yet playfully. "You require of me to help you cum, dear?" She spoke and you quivered at the vulgarity she resorted to. Her hands rested on your thighs, occasionally squeezing. "It's not— I'm not requiring you.."

She laughed, amused that you chose to focus on that segment of her words. Ambessa's fingers were already wandering beneath the waistband of your panties and hiking up your dress. She slipped them down and off your ankles, then neatly placed them on the edge of the bed.

She knew any disorder could spark a mood swing when you were pregnant.

Her hands circled your thigh as she kneeled between them, hearing your anticipatory moans as encouragement. Teasingly, her tongue circled on your inner thigh, never releasing eye contact with you. "Oh my— 'Bessa, fuck," You murmured in a high pitch regard, tugging on her hair and squirming, resisting the need to buck your cunt against her face.

"What happened to avoiding vulgarity? Watch your tongue dear, don't be a hypocrite." She taunted, pressing sloppy kisses on your cunt. You nodded frantically, avoiding the temptation to fuck her face. You trusted her enough to know everything she did had purpose. She attached her lips to your clit, all her tongue movements precise .

You moan softly, back arching off the mattress. It felt good, but you felt as if it wasn't fulfilling, Your moans died out slowly and she removed her mouth, an eyebrow cocked. "What happened, dear?" You tried not to get emotional as you spoke, "Can't see your face. Not.. doesn't feel good when you're not close to me." She chuckles, not expecting that declaration from you.

"Yeah?" She lifted herself to cover your body vertically, her hand then reaching down to your cunt, "Is this better, dear?" She asked, her head dipping low between your neck to add little wet kisses. You nod, arms circling her back and scratching at it. She inserted one finger, slowly and carefully curling it inside, then slipping another one in to match the movements.

Your face nuzzled against hers, huffing slightly with parted lips. She took that opportunity to kiss you, her tongue going between your lips as her fingers pace increased. Your hands traveled from her back to her hair, tugging once again. You could hardly return the kiss, her hand calculated every pleasurable spot. Her other hand rested on your tummy, rubbing it gently.

She began to pump her fingers in and out, the prominent squelching noises adding to the wetness between your legs. One of your hands held her jaw, sloppily continuing to kiss her. Her body engulfing yours was the only thing you needed and her hands pleasuring you added to all of the sensations.

You bucked your hips upwards against her hand and she moaned into the kiss, lips finally parting to catch your air. Her fucking you never stopped, kissing your jawline and cheek, spit all over both areas. "God– 'Bessa, I'm so– so close," You whimpered, hands moving beneath her shirt to knead her tits. Ambessa moaned throatily, quickening the pace and intensity.

Your head launched back against the pillow, cumming all over her hand within a matter of seconds. She chuckled, letting you roll your hips against her palm to ride the orgasm. "Did that cure your symptoms, dearest?" You nodded, watching as she laid down besides you. Your hands nearly immediately came to fiddle with her clothes, tugging at them, basically begging for her to help you remove them.

"Oh? Are you planning to do this again?" You shook your head at the suggestion in her tone. She quirked a brow, removing her top and tossing it to the same corners your panties were at. She then watched you tug your dress fully off and place it on the bed.

Your body came to cover hers, chest-to-chest, skin-to-skin. You whimpered shakily, needing to feel her warmth against yours. She smiled tenderly, engrossing you within her arms. "Here I was letting my mind wander... you're just too sweet." Ambessa whispered, allowing you to nuzzle between her jawline.

[mssorceressupreme]

You Belong With Me | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: it almost felt like unrequited love to you, until you agreed to go to the Yule ball with George, causing his twin brother to get jealous.

Warnings/tags: jealousy, arguing, dancing in the rain, kissing in the rain (when's it gonna be my turn), mutual pining, fred longs for you <3, ending is soo fluffy

———

The cool autumn breeze swept across the courtyard as you and Hermione lounged on a stone bench, basking in a rare moment of calm amidst the Yule Ball frenzy that had overtaken the castle. The two of you were deep in conversation, discussing something far removed from the glittering event.

Hermione was talking about her fascination with ancient runes, her voice animated.

“I just think it’s incredible,” she said, her fingers tracing an invisible symbol in the air. “Languages so old they’ve shaped magic itself. Imagine being able to read something no one else in the room understands.”

You smiled, leaning back against the bench. “I’ll stick to words I can actually pronounce, thanks. Besides, isn’t it enough that half the textbooks at this school might as well be in a foreign language?”

Hermione laughed softly. “Fair point. But honestly, there’s something thrilling about deciphering mysteries.”

You were about to respond when Cho Chang appeared, her face lit up like a thousand fairy lights. “Guess what?” she exclaimed, plopping down beside Hermione, who immediately brightened at her arrival.

“What?” Hermione asked, leaning forward with curiosity.

“Cedric asked me to the ball!” Cho squealed, clutching her hands together.

Your grin mirrored hers. “That’s amazing, Cho! He’s one of the most sought-after guys in school. Everyone’s going to be jealous.”

Cho flushed with delight, her excitement infectious. “I still can’t believe it. He just came up to me after Charms and asked. Like it was nothing!”

The three of you giggled, and soon the conversation shifted to the ball itself—who would ask whom, what dresses to wear, and how the hall might be decorated.

“Have you two thought about who you might ask?” Cho asked, leaning forward with a curious glint in her eyes.

Hermione glanced away, suddenly absorbed in adjusting the clasp of her cloak. “I—I don’t really know yet,” she mumbled.

Your stomach twisted slightly at the question, though you kept your face neutral. “No one in mind,” you said lightly, though your heart was screaming a different answer: Fred.

The thought of him filled your mind, as it often did lately. His quick wit, the sparkle in his eyes when he was planning a prank, the way his laughter could light up the darkest of days. You could barely imagine him asking you, but the hope lingered all the same.

Cho giggled, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Well, whoever you pick, you’ll have to tell me everything! It’s all anyone’s talking about in Ravenclaw Tower.”

The conversation drifted to Potions, which happened to be our next class, but your mind remained on Fred. Would he ask someone else?

___

The next afternoon, the library was quieter than usual, save for the occasional scratch of quills on parchment. You were deeply engrossed in your Potions notes when George slid into the seat beside you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said with a grin, tossing a book onto the table.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Shouldn’t you be off plotting your next big prank with Fred?”

He clutched his chest with a dramatic gasp. “Ouch. I’m perfectly capable of studying, thank you very much.”

You chuckled, turning back to your notes as he whipped out his textbook.

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm of studying, punctuated by George’s occasional quips and your amused replies. It was comfortable, even fun. Halfway through, he leaned closer, his tone suddenly earnest.

“So, the Yule Ball,” he started, tapping his quill against the table.

You looked up, curious. “What about it?”

He grinned, though there was something tentative about it. “Well, I was wondering if you’d go with me.”

Your heart stuttered. For a split second, you pictured Fred’s face instead of George’s, and disappointment flooded your chest.

But then you saw the hope in George’s eyes and felt a sense of guilt. He was lovely in his own right, and you couldn’t imagine saying no to someone so kind.

“Sure,” you said after a moment, offering a small smile. “I’d love to Georgie.”

He was one of your closest friends after all, how could you say no to George? Besides, at least you wouldn't be attending the ball alone. ___

Later that day, you found yourself in the Great Hall during study period. The long tables were packed with students working on essays and assignments, and the low hum of conversation filled the space. You sat with Hermione, Harry, and Ron, your quill scratching against the parchment as you tried to focus.

The doors swung open, and your heart skipped a beat as Fred entered, his presence commanding the room without even trying. His tie was slightly askew, his hair tousled in that effortlessly handsome way of his.

You quickly looked down at your parchment, forcing yourself to concentrate. But then Fred sat across from you, and ignoring him became impossible.

“Looking forward to the ball?” he asked casually, his eyes meeting yours.

You managed a nod. “Yeah, should be fun.” If you went with me.

George, seated beside you, grinned and announced loudly, “Right?We’re going together!”

The group erupted in congratulations. “So, you two, huh?” Ron teased, his eyebrows waggling.

You forced a smile as the attention turned to you and George. Across the table, Fred’s expression fell, though he quickly masked it with a laugh.

"You two? That'll be entertaining. Best put extra protection over your toes Y/N, George isn't exactly the best dancer."

The laughter around the table grew louder, students chiming in with their own quips and jokes about the Yule Ball. You tried to join in, but your focus kept slipping back to Fred.

Every time George leaned closer to you or made you laugh, Fred’s jaw tightened, his fingers drumming against the table in a steady, agitated rhythm.

George, oblivious to his twin’s mood, grinned and nudged you with his elbow. “You’ll see, Y/N. Fred might think he’s the charming one, but wait until you’re spinning across the dance floor with me. I’ll have you thinking I invented the waltz.”

Fred scoffed audibly, folding his arms. “Yeah, right. And she’ll probably need a Healer for her toes by the end of the night. Smooth moves, George.”

George chuckled, brushing off the jab. “Jealous much, Freddie?”

That struck a nerve. Fred’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward. “Jealous? Of you? You’re dreaming, mate.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t act like it’s a crime for her to have a decent time at the ball.”

“Decent time? That’s rich, coming from the guy who can’t even sit still during dinner without knocking something over.”

George’s grin faltered, his tone sharpening. “What’s your problem? You’ve been acting like this since I asked her.” He asked, loud enough for only him and Fred to hear. But George, knew exactly what was up.

“Maybe my problem is you jumping in when you knew—” Fred stopped abruptly, clenching his jaw as if he’d said too much.

The table grew quieter as Snape walked by, making sure students were doing work without chatting away, a few heads turning toward the brewing tension. Your heart raced as you glanced between them, unsure whether to step in.

“Knew what, Fred?” George pressed, his own temper starting to rise.

Fred opened his book, a little too harshly, his voice low but laced with frustration. “Forget it. Enjoy your ‘decent time,’ George.”

Not long after, you all found yourselves immersed in studying.

Moments later, Fred tossed a note to Ron, saying “Get a move on, or all the good ones will have gone.”

Ron groaned. “Who are you going with, then?”

Fred didn’t reply. Instead, he rolled another paper ball and lobbed it at Angelina, who turned to Fred, mouthing "What?"

He asked her to the ball. He asked her to the ball. When she nodded in response, your chest tightened painfully.

You felt your chest constrict as you watched the exchange. He asked Angelina. The words echoed in your mind, drowning out the noise around you.

You buried your face in your parchment, pretending to be absorbed in your work, but Hermione’s hand on your arm told you she saw right through you.

Fred glanced at you briefly, his gaze almost apologetic, but you refused to meet his eyes. Instead, you leaned closer to Hermione, trying to block him out.

Whatever, you were going with George anyway, why did Fred matter.

___

The night of the ball arrived, and you met George at the entrance. He was charming as ever, complimenting your dress with a sincere warmth that made you feel beautiful.

“You look stunning,” George said as he approached, his grin warm and genuine.

“Thanks, and you look very handsome” you replied, offering a small smile as he led you inside.

The Hall was breathtaking, transformed into a winter wonderland. But as your eyes scanned the room, they immediately found Fred, your heart faltered at the sight of him with Angelina. He looked devastatingly handsome in his dress robes, his hair neatly combed, though still with that familiar unruly edge.

Fred caught your eye for a fleeting moment, his lips curving into a faint smile, but he quickly turned away. You forced yourself to smile and focused on George, determined not to let your emotions show.

“Let’s say hi,” George suggested, steering you toward his twin.

Fred’s eyes met yours as you approached, and for a moment, everything else faded away. But then he turned to Angelina, jealousy flashing in his gaze before he quickly hid it.

The night went on, the music swelling and laughter filling the air. You danced with George, smiled for the photos, and laughed with friends, but your heart wasn’t in it. Fred was never far from your thoughts, and you couldn’t stop glancing his way.

You sat at the table with George, Lee and Oliver, having some punch to hydrate yourselves after all that dancing.

Across the room, Fred’s gaze kept finding you, a flicker of longing evident in his eyes, though you never noticed.

When he wasn't looking, your eyes found him, and when you glanced away, his gaze found you.

You watched as he laughed with Angelina, something stirred inside you, wishing that was you. Around the room, couples were dancing happily, laughter echoing throughout the room which you drowned out.

You always knew you liked Fred, but this was the first time your emotions felt stronger than ever. You'd never dare admit it, but your heart ached for him, and tonight was the tipping point.

Turning to George, you excused yourself for some air, slipping out into the courtyard as tears welled up.

The first raindrops began to fall as you sat on a bench, cold air biting against your skin as your tears slowly spilled over despite your efforts to hold them back.

You didn't care about the rain; you just sat there.

___

Back inside, Fred’s eyes followed you as you left, a slight frown played upon his lips as he watched you scurry out.

“Go,” Angelina said softly, nudging him.

“What?” Fred asked, startled.

“She likes you, Fred. And it’s obvious you like her too, I see the way you look at her. Stop being an idiot and do something about it.” She chuckled.

Realisation dawned on his face, and without another word, he ran after you.

The rain was pouring by the time he found you. Without thinking, he took off his blazer and held it over your head as he approached. You looked up seeing a tall figure tower over you, holding a blazer over you.

He got soaked, but didn't mind one bit, as long as it kept you dry.

“Mind some company?” he asked, sitting beside you, now extending the blazer over his head too, leaving the two of you huddled under his blazer together.

“Fred, just go,” you said, not looking at him.

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice soft. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. Crying, no less.”

You turned to him, your heart breaking all over again. “Shouldn’t you be with Angelina?”

Fred shook his head. “There’s nothing between us." He continued, "You do know that she has a thing George, right?”

“Then why didn’t you—” You stopped yourself, unable to finish the thought.

“Because I was too much of a coward to ask you,” Fred admitted, his voice raw. “George knew that, so he stepped in, he just needed to push my buttons that git. But it’s always been you. Only you.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, the world stood still.

“Fred...”

“I mean it,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “You’re the one I’ve wanted all along.”

Tears welled up again, but this time they were different. You laughed softly, shaking your head. “How did the wrong twin ask the wrong date to the ball?”

Fred chuckled, his hand reaching to tuck a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “Guess we’re both idiots.”

You leaned closer, and Fred closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that made everything else fade away.

The kiss was as sweet as his words were, you tasted a linger of punch he drank from earlier, "Mhm, sweet." You giggled. He smiled into the kiss, before leaning back in for another kiss, removing the blazer from above so he could hold you closer to him.

Fred pulled you closer by the waist, holding you like he was going to lost you. "Merlin, you're the most beautiful girl to ever exist." He complimented sincerely.

You blushed, looking down, "Stop it..." you scoff but bit back a smile.

His inspected your face, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, smiling as he did so. The look of love. And you into his, those warm hazel eyes you always dreamed of, finally looking at you in this light.

The soft hum of music floated through the night air, carried from the Great Hall to the quiet courtyard. The sound of a slow, enchanting melody was muffled by the rain but still audible enough to make your heartpace increase.

“They’re playing a slow one now,” he said, his gaze fixed on you.

His hazel eyes warmer than the rain, a playful yet nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Dance with me.”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “What?”

“Dance with me,” he repeated, standing up and holding a hand out to you. Raindrops clung to his hair, the dim light from the castle casting a faint glow around him. “It’d be a shame to let a good song go to waste.”

You stared at his hand, your heart fluttering as you hesitated. “Fred, it’s raining.”

“All the better.” He grinned, his usual confidence creeping back into his voice. “Come on, Y/N. You’re already soaked, and we’re already out here. What’ve we got to lose?”

Despite yourself, you laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re absurd.”

“And yet, here you are, sitting next to me.” He wiggled his fingers, his hand still extended. “Now, are you going to make me stand here looking like a git, or are you going to dance with me?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile spreading across your face. With a sigh of surrender, you placed your hand in his, letting him pull you to your feet.

The rain was cool against your skin as Fred tugged you closer, one hand resting lightly on your waist, the other still holding your hand.

You hesitated, unsure of where to place your free hand, and he chuckled, guiding it to his shoulder.

“There,” he said softly. “Not so hard, is it?”

The music from the hall swirled around you both as he began to sway, leading you gently. You stumbled at first, unprepared for the sudden closeness, but Fred’s grip was steady, his steps smooth and sure.

“You’re not bad at this,” you teased, looking up at him.

He smirked. “Told you. Miles better than Georgie.”

That made you laugh, and the sound seemed to light up his whole face. The tension from earlier melted away, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the music or the rain.

The world around you blurred, the rain and the music creating a cocoon of quiet intimacy. Fred twirled you unexpectedly, making you gasp before pulling you back against him, his grin wide and mischievous.

“Show-off,” you said breathlessly.

“Only for you,” he replied, his voice softer now, his teasing tone giving way to something more sincere.

You looked up at him, rainwater dripping from your hair, and for a moment, you forgot about the ball, about Angelina, about anything else. It was just Fred—Fred with his warm eyes, his heartfelt grin, and his hands that held you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“Fred…” you started, unsure of what you wanted to say.

But he stopped swaying, his hand gently brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. “I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured. “It’s always been you, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched, his words sinking in like the rain soaking through your clothes. “Fred, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I just…I needed you to know.”

For a moment, you stood there, staring at him, the music from the hall swelling in the background. Then, without thinking, you leaned up on your toes, closing the space between you.

The kiss was soft and slow, rain falling around you as if the world had stopped for just the two of you. Fred’s hand cupped your face gently, the other still resting on your waist, pulling you closer. When you finally pulled back, he was grinning, his forehead resting against yours.

“So, how’s this for a Yule Ball memory?” he asked, his voice warm and teasing.

You laughed, your cheeks flushing despite the cold. “It’s perfect.”

“Good,” he said, spinning you one last time before pulling you back into his arms. “Because I don’t think I’m letting you go anytime soon.”

And as the rain continued to fall and the music from the Great Hall drifted through the night, you realised that, for once, you didn’t mind getting soaked.

[chleboryba]

Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to discuss it ofc op, but the way the game ultimately failed to me as a narrative about hard choices is because

1) at the first major choice it just... doesn't let you do it

2) it often just doesn't let you sympathise with characters who were forced to choose between two horrible outcomes.

Reg. 1) Minrathous vs Treviso. As far as I remember Rook did not give the impression of knowing that the dagger could give them any advantage in the fight (correct me if I'm wrong tho) so really we just sent 3 people here, 3 people there. I kinda expected the quest to be just about that, the refusal to make a choice and commit to it. But no, everyone acted like Rook's presence alone determined which city will be saved, which baffled me for the rest of the game.

And 2) I'm mainly getting at Solas' choices in his memories, Ivenci and Isseya (oh boy, Isseya). And I suppose I could acknowledge that basically no characters want to think about those three in any positive light, fine. But I'd appreciate Rook having a chance to be a bit more understanding. Instead we all approach them with an air of such a moral superiority.

Solas kills his agent. Who is blighted. It's the best thing he could do, it's incurable, she would die horribly (and a GW Rook at least should know it), but our companions kinda act like she'd broken a leg and he didn't want to risk carrying her to safety. Then he sacrifices the spirits to get the dagger. A horrible choice, maybe even a betrayal on his part, but I can easily imagine a Rook that believes that he did a necessary thing (also, Felassan being outraged here is interesting, considering how fucking ruthless he was in The Masked Empire; obvs A LOT has happened until the book, he could change completely, so it's not really a criticism I suppose, just - interesting).

Ivenci is made to be a very cartoonish villain. Everyone and their mother said their piece about the Crows and their morality, but even aside from that - what Ivenci did was just that, making an impossible decision with no good outcomes. And again - I would appreciate a possibility to approach from a place of understanding.

And Isseya, oh, Isseya. That one just pisses me off the most, I think, given how the quest hammers in CONSTANTLY what an evil traitor she is. Again, I understand the characters might be bitter and I understand them not wanting to extend her any good will, but as a player and someone who read the books... It just hurts man, you know? Not being able to acknowledge how fucking awful the situation was, and that they supposedly did what they thought was necessary. How they *didn't want to*, how it destroyed them mentally, but how it ultimately saved the world. (The moral superiority hurts the most here, I think. Good god, people, you're Grey Wardens, moral ambiguity is your daily bread. Don't act so high and mighty.)

Again, don't wanna rain on your parade, op. I enjoyed the game, I know it got tons of hate already (valid and not, but it can be exhausting either way), but this is one of my main issues with it and I can't let it go. It really reads as some being privileged and looking down their nose on others who did not have it so lucky.

Me up again metaphorically pacing my room thinking about how datv is a game about hard choices that don't have a right or wrong answer (but the answer you choose still shapes you and your relationships the same way it shaped Solas and his own relationships)

and a game about regret for things you had no choice but to do (the same way Solas had no choice but to struggle against the rule of the evanuris including his best friend/lover/elder sister)

and a game about how even then you ultimately did have a choice (the same way Solas could have refused to make the dagger or could have allowed flemythal to do whatever she had planned or could have not tried to tear the veil back down which he knew would kill everybody before it fixed anything)

and a game about how sometimes you do your best and do things for good reasons and you still fuck up and you can't save everybody and people will still be frustrated with you (the same way the veil was an accident and Solas was only able to save a tiny fragment of mythal and even that fragment seems bitter about him holding her there even though he does it out of love)

and a game about what leadership does to its leaders (the same way Solas killed his blighted allies, the same way he betrayed felassan, the same way he ultimately betrayed the shard of mythal in flemeth)

and a game about GRIEF and how rook is trapped in it and not being allowed to move forward by blood magic, and how grief cages you (the same way Solas feels caged by the loss of mythal and he's just as trapped as rook is but it's of his own free will and how he uses rook as a method of self absolution for what he did to Varric)

and how every character arc and story touches on at least one if not multiple of these points and how it's all layered in with area quests, side quests, main story quests, that do the same thing. I'm tired of feeling like I have to qualify my praise of datv with "it has problems" because it's a fucking dragon age game. They are all, in their own ways, hot messes. Each one has its weak hinges and its stress points but the level of sheer thematic cohesion and thought in datv is absolutely fucking unparalleled and I don't think I'm wrong to say so

[cha-melodius]

23 23 23!!!!! (Hug prompt)

(This was a popular one! Also requested by @dot524 and @libbygrl, so I made it extra long. Just kidding, it got that long anyway, but we're pretending it's because of that. hug ficlet prompts; read all the hug ficlets)

23. The hug they pull you into when they’re about to kiss you.

This has been the shittiest birthday Alex can remember in a long time.

They’d been slammed all evening, like everyone in the surrounding area decided that they all had to visit the restaurant on the same day. Normally, Alex wouldn’t complain—he likes staying busy, and the buzz of a well-running kitchen is almost soothing to him. Tonight, though, the kitchen had been running far from well.

First, one of his line cooks was out sick and no one else could come in. Then, one of the new kids he’s been training accidentally upended an entire tub of prepped artichokes. Artichokes. Alex’s hands are still raw from the frantic all-hands-on-deck rush to get enough replacements cleaned. His normally extremely capable sous chef had just broken up with her girlfriend and was hanging on by a thread all night, occasionally disappearing to go cry in the walk-in. More than one sauce had been forgotten and burned on the stove. And of course there’d been your usual picky diners, people unable to be satisfied by anything, and while usually he’s pretty good at letting that stuff roll off his back, tonight Alex was seconds away from melting down and turning into one of those chefs he swore he’d never become.

He might have spent the last twenty minutes, after the last diners had finally gone and the rest of the kitchen staff have followed, collapsed in a booth with a bottle of Maker’s. He’s gonna go home, promise. He just needs to get up the energy to move.

Except—

There’s a clattering from the kitchen, and a soft, unexpectedly posh fuck audible in the dead silence of the restaurant. Alex levers himself out of the booth and pushes his way into the kitchen, following the sounds of movement to the pastry chef’s station, which is tucked away in an alcove. There, bent incongruously over a single dessert plate holding some kind of small cake, is his sommelier.

“Henry?”

Henry, who apparently did not hear Alex come in, jolts upright, his face going red like he’s been caught. Caught at what, Alex can’t begin to imagine.

“Oh, Alex,” he breathes. Then he glances down at the dessert in front of him, and his face falls. “Christ, this was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I mean, it definitely is,” Alex offers. As far as he knows, Henry doesn’t cook much. He’s got an exceptional palate, but is fairly hopeless in the kitchen, by his own accounts. And yet, no one else is here. Just Henry, and a cake. There’s a singular candle stuck into the top of it. It’s not hard to draw a conclusion, unlikely though it may seem. “Is that for me?”

“Well,” Henry says uncertainly. He sighs. “Yes, I suppose.”

Alex can’t help the smile playing on his lips as he slowly walks closer. “You suppose?”

“If it’s not any good, then it definitely wasn’t for you,” Henry hedges, but he’s smiling now too—a little, hesitant thing that makes Alex’s heart beat an erratic rhythm in his chest.

Alex stops next to the counter where the cake sits, which also happens to be right in front of Henry. He looks up into sparkling blue eyes under brows still knit together in the middle and wants to smooth out the wrinkle between them with his thumb.

Instead, he picks up the fork sitting next to the plate. “Can I try it?”

“Now hold on, the candle’s meant to be lit—” Henry tries, but Alex laughs at him and cuts a neat corner off the little square cake. It’s a rich, deep brown with a dark filling that oozes out between two layers, and when he sticks the fork in his mouth, a rich interplay of chocolate and the sweet-tart notes of port-soaked cherries bursts across his tongue.

Alex finishes his bite slowly, savoring both the flavors and the nervous fidgeting of the man standing so very close to him. He’s been more than half in love with Henry for a while now, but he could never be sure if his feelings were returned. They work so well together here. It seemed stupid to risk it.

Fuck that.

“Well?” Henry finally asks, unable to help himself, as Alex slowly sets the fork down on the plate. “You don’t have to spare my feelings if it was awful. June tried to help me with the cake recipe, but I fear I might be unteachable—oh.”

The words cut off because Alex has grabbed both of his wrists and is pulling him a step closer, even as he closes the remaining gap between them. He arranges Henry’s compliant arms around his waist, then loops his own over Henry’s shoulders, drawing him in until their bodies are pressed together and mere inches separate their faces.

“It’s incredible,” he murmurs. Yeah, the cake’s a little dry and his ganache isn’t perfect, but it doesn’t matter. Henry made it for him, for his birthday, and for that, it’s better than every Michelin-starred cake he’s ever eaten. “Thank you, H. It means a lot.”

“You deserve it,” Henry murmurs back. His eyes keep flitting down to Alex’s lips, and Alex’s smile grows.

“You know what I really want, though?”

“What?” Henry asks breathlessly as his arms tighten around Alex’s waist. The tips of their noses bump together.

“This,” Alex says, and kisses him.

Clearly, Henry’s been sampling as he constructed the dessert, because he tastes like chocolate and port-soaked cherries, and Alex can’t get enough. Henry kisses him like he’s been aching for it just as long as Alex has, holding onto him like he’s never going to let go, and frankly, Alex isn’t going anywhere.

Maybe this wasn’t such a shitty birthday, after all.

[allllium]

Perfect for Me

~ Matt Murdock x insecure!reader

~ omg two posts in two days 😮 this is not edited at all so ignore my mistakes

~ Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, WC: 1,679

- Matt comforts insecure reader -

Dating a blind guy is very different from any other relationship you've had for very obvious reasons. Not only is it an adjustment going out with and even living with someone that can't see, but Matt is different. He has senses that other blind people don't which makes things even harder. You love Matt but that doesn't mean it's not an adjustment.

Obviously he can't see you but he knows everything about you. He knows the basics of how you look but not the details. Sometimes that's hard. Only because you fear he has some other idea of you in his head. Like the real you can't match up to the look of you he has in his head.

It's silly, you know, but it's not like you can just get rid of the thoughts in your head. Matt can tell something's wrong, a bonus of his super senses. So far though, he hasn't asked about it. He's learned over time to give you a little bit of time to process your issue before he tries to get involved.

It's not his fault, simply your insecurities getting the best of you. It'll be fine you tell yourself, wondering around the apartment you now share with Matt. Maybe that's where it's coming from. You guys have always spent a lot of time together but now your space is his, and when you want space to yourself, you don't have a separate apartment to hide in. You certainly don't want that but what if he does?

You turn on some music to fill your rattled brain. Nothing loud but enough to distract your thoughts. You soon turn from wondering to cleaning. It's become a daily habit since Matt rarely has time. You have no problem doing it because you know it makes Matt feel slightly better. Not as much dust and grime for his senses to focus on.

You're very ingrained in your scrubbing of the counter when you hear the door shut.

"Hey, Matty." You call out to greet him, not taking your attention off the counter for a second.

"Hi." His faces lights up as he sees you. "How was your day?" He asks, planting a soft kiss on your temple.

"Not nearly as eventful as yours I imagine." You smile, turning around to meet his beaming face. He has already taken off his suit jacket while walking towards you and has began loosening his tie. Giving him that slightly casual look that you know and love.

"I actually think that's true today, though the most amusing part of it was hearing Foggy fall out of his chair not once but twice within a twenty minute period." You listen intently to his words as you finish wiping off the counter. His words get quieter as he slowly makes his way to the bedroom for more comfortable clothes.

You know Matt feels a great pressure to keep the city safe by going out every night, but your favorite night of the week is the one where you've both agreed he stays in. One of the few requests you had when moving in.

"How the hell did he manage that?" You chortle, imagining it in your head. You can hear Matt's laugh from the other room.

"I have no clue, you'd think he'd learn after the first time." He comes back into the living space wearing black sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. After you got together, you had to take Matt shopping for new, plain, clothes considering most of the ones he owned had something stupid and possibly embarrassing on them due to Foggy, bright colors and big slogans. "I heard him whine about it for the rest of the day."

"At least your days aren't boring like the other lawyers."

"That's definitely a plus of partnering with him."

This is the best part of your day. Talking to him about your days and gossiping about the people you know, plus all the people Matt hears about during the day. The only problem seems to be the words that won't leave your head.

"How do you feel about spaghetti for dinner?" You ask him as he grabs a water out of the fridge. Usually, he'd grab a beer but out of fear for his liver you haven't bought any in a week.

"Sounds perfect. How can I help?"

"I can do it, you worked all day."

"Worked is a loose term." He laughs to himself. You and he both know a lot of their work consists of finding new cases.

"You can boil the pasta if you want to be helpful."

"Oh that's easy. It's almost as if you don't believe in my culinary skills."

You turn and give him a stare that makes him smirk. "Matthew, I know what you lived on before I moved in."

"Okay water it is." He gives you get another kiss before searching for a suitable pot.

You hum along to the soft background music as you and Matt work on your tasks. Once he's done with his, he stands right beside you in silence.

"So." He starts.

"So?" You repeat.

"I didn't want to bring this up but I think it's important-"

"That sounds scary."

"For me, yes. I talked to Karen today."

Oh fuck. To say Karen knows your deepest darkest secrets would be an understatement. For Matt to start a conversation like this about her, she told him something. Something you're know wracking your brain to figure out.

It's not that you think Karen would sell you out. But Matt is very charming and sometimes you find yourself telling him things without even realizing.

"I would hope so." You try to play it off like you're not immensely worried about his coming words. "She is your secretary."

"I don't think she'd appreciate that title." He laughs nervously. You know he's nervous because his glasses are still on. He's trying to make sure you can't read him at the moment.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want it to seem like I was invading your privacy."

"Matt, you always do that. You hear literally everything I do."

"Yes but this feels different."

"You wouldn't have started this conversation if you didn't have something to say so please get on with it."

"I heard you talking to Karen the other day when she was over. And I tried not to read too much into it but then I talked to her today and I'm officially reading into it."

"Karen and I have talked about a lot of things, that doesn't really help me understand."

You try to seem nonchalant by stirring the pasta sauce.

"I heard you telling her how you don't think you live up the version of you I have in my head." He whispers the words as if that'll make it easier. Of course. Out of everything he could've heard, it was the one thing you really, really don't want to talk about. You know Matt isn't going to let this go until you answer all his questions.

"That was over a week ago." You whisper over the sauce.

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. But I only heard a part of what you said and I couldn't handle not knowing the rest."

A heavy sigh escapes you. It's not his fault. You are still adjusting to how much he can hear from so far so you didn't even think about that when he came home that day. You also can't fault him for wanting to know more, if the roles were reversed you would've gone to Foggy to know more almost immediately.

"You obviously weren't supposed to hear that." You turn off the stove top and look at him. "I don't suppose we can keep acting like you know nothing about that?" Your words come out with a hopeful tone.

"No we can't. Sweetheart, how can you feel like that? Have I made you doubt yourself like this?" He pulls you away from the kitchen and pushes you to sit next to him on the couch.

"You have done nothing Matt. You're perfect. I just can't get it out of my mind that every time you're complimenting me, it's not actually me. It's the more beautiful version of me you have in your head." He already knows enough, might as well tell him the rest.

"I know what you look like. Maybe I can't see every detail but I know enough to know every compliment I've ever given you, has been for you. I can't see everything on your face but I can sort of see the shape of you."

You're just now realizing you've never actually asked Matt what he can see. Knowing he was blind you always figured he couldn't see anything.

"What do you see?" You ask now.

"It's difficult to explain. I see certain figures but not all the time. It's kinda like flames that prevent me from seeing things but they don't always stay in the same spot."

"So how are you so confident I'm the same that you think I am?" He moves closer to hold your hand and lean more against you.

"Because I've had everyone describe you. Foggy, Karen, even Frank at one point. And I've felt your face a lot, enough to understand the shape of everything. Your eyes, lips, nose. Everything that makes you, you."

"Feeling is different than seeing."

"For other people yes. For me, this is the only way I know a lot of things. It's the way I've learned to know things so I'm better at it. I don't need to see every detail when everything I've felt is beyond perfect."

You feel tears appear in your waterline. Leave it to Matt to know the perfect thing to say. Always.

"When I say you're perfect for me, I mean it. More than anything."

He wipes the tears off your face the second they begin to fall.

"You're perfect for me too, Matty."

"Good." He states. "You're gonna be with for the rest of forever."

"That's a nice plan."

[pysprnt]

Hellooo!!!

Love your fics so far <3

if it’s okay I’d like to request a older brother! Thanos + Younger sister! Reader, platonic obvs, fic where thanos hasn’t seen the reader in ages because of his rap career but then meets her again in the game and she’s is in the game for her high collage debt.

Can end happily if you’d like but I’d like it to be angst pleaseee <3

𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 — 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐬𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐠; 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝, 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬) — 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 .

𝐰𝐜 — 𝟏.𝟔𝐤, 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 .

“ms y/n, if you do not mind me asking, why are you here? you’re awfully young and kind, i wouldn’t have imagined you to have debt of any sort.” played 001, also known as in-ho, politely questions your reasoning behind participating in these death games.

the other players in your small group of allies perk up upon hearing the question, the lot of them seeming someone curious as well. clearing your throat awkwardly, a lopsided smile paints your youthful face. the group takes notice of your hesitation, and quickly reassures you that you do not have to share your past with them if you’re not comfortable.

“you don’t have to, y/n. do not feel pressured.” junhee whispers, rubbing your back gently. shaking your head with a sigh of disapproval, you reply in an almost disappointed tone. “no no, it is fine, unnie.”

“i studied abroad in the united states for college, and took out quite a few loans to help financially.” you start, the group paying close attention, despite feeling exhausted from the paranoia and lack of comfortable rest. “i had no source of income, and my debt just began to pile up until i was no longer able to afford staying in america. even moving back to korea, i did not escape my debt.”

the group stays silent for a moment, feeling an odd sense of pity towards you—after all, you just wanted an education, and it was unfortunate that you were unable to fulfill your dream. “i’m sorry, miss.” dae-ho murmurs with a sad smile, watching as you shift closer to your pregnant friend.

“i just hope that we can all make it out of here; alive. we’ll all pay off our debts, and maybe we could meet up at a local cafe—catch up after getting our lives together.” you have not known these men, and junhee, for very long, but they provide you with comfort that nobody else has. not even your own brother, su bong.

just the thought of his name causes an ache in your heart that cannot be expressed. oh how you resent su bong. during your early teenage years, the two of you had been attached by the hip, spending all of your free time at an arcade down the street from your apartment complex. it was quite run down, but you had the time of your life. you had even grown close to the owner, mr jungsoo.

life began to change when he died, and the arcade that you found comfort in was demolished. as time went on, su bong had distanced himself slowly, his rapping career becoming successful. it was almost as if the fame had made him forget who took his feelings into consideration under every circumstance, who cleaned his wounds after a nasty argument with his father, and who stuck by his side during his drug addiction.

you have not seen su bong in 4 years. he had disappeared when you were 16, leaving you in the care of your parents, who were completely unfit to have children. you still feel bitter to this day. he had left you when you needed him most, even after you were there for him throughout all of his hardships.

you fell into a depressive state of mind after about 1 month of no contact with your elder brother, your fathers verbal abuse getting worse as every day goes by, while your mother did little to help. you started to care little about your physical appearance and hygiene, only showing up to school so that you could graduate and move on with your life, just as su bong did.

though, the difference between you and him, is that you are not leaving behind the person most dear to you. no, the person that meant the most had already left, left without a single goodbye.

you tell yourself every night that you do not care, that it does not bother you still to this day, but before you close your eyes to rest, you wish that you’d one day get an explanation from your brother. for closure. all you need is closure.

“y/n, are you alright?” you are shaken from your thoughts as gihun waves a hand in front of your face worriedly, having taken notice of your sudden silence. “yes yes, i am just fine. i think that i will take a walk, i feel a bit faint and would like some time to think.”

before gihun or any of the others have the chance to objectify, reminding you that it is dangerous, you quickly make your leave, wandering to an empty corner of the dormitory.

unbeknownst to you, su bong takes notice of your presence, but feels conflicted about whether or not he should confront you. he knows that you’re aware of his existence around you, but you have yet to seek him out on your own. su bong doesn’t want to force himself onto you after all these years.

though, after watching your body make contact with the stone cold wall, and seeing you sink to the floor in tears, the big brother in him pushes him from his bunk, quietly stalking towards you in a determined manner.

you immediately take notice of su bong as he stands above you, fiddling with the cross that lies underneath his shirt. you ignore him, wiping your tears and trying to act tough. su bong had always told you that crying was for pussies, and that you were strong—tough, just like him.

“hey, bumblebee…” that nickname physically hurts you. su bong had come up with that name because you always lingered behind during walks to gawk at the flowers in gardens around seoul. at first it annoyed him to no end, but he soon picked up on your fascination for the beauty of nature, and the nickname bumblebee blossomed.

“go away, su bong.” you sniffle, obviously not enthused by his presence. the ex-rapper slowly slides down the wall just as you did moments before, taking a seat on the floor beside you. “no can do, baby sis. remember what i told you? crying is for the weak, i didn’t think you would turn into a pussy while i was away.”

he has not changed one bit. still rude as hell, yet in a comforting way. “you don’t have the right to talk to me.” you hiss coldly, but make no attempt to leave yourself.

“don’t be this way, y/n—“ “you can’t tell me how to be when you left me.” you cut the older male off, making your resentment and pent up anger known. su bong had lost his older brother card the second he decided to leave you without a second thought.

“y/n, i didn’t just leave you—“ “yes you did!” you cut him off once more, which slightly angers su bong, but he decides not to speak on it, since you have every right to speak to him as you are. “do not cut me off. i tried to come back for you, but you were gone by the time i had gotten enough money to provide for the both of us.”

“you came too late. you did not leave a note, didn’t shoot me a text, hell, you deleted your number completely! i had no way to contact you, no way to ask what happened, if you were safe, if you fucking overdosed on those pills you pop. you had me worried sick!”

“i know, and i’m sorry!” su bong tries to stay calm, but his muscles begin to tremble, and he fights the urge to down a few of his pills just because he knows that it will do nothing but set off the rage in your heart. you had always begged him to stop taking drugs, to get help. thinking back to the arguments you had about his addiction, su bong wishes that he would have listened to you.

“you’re not fucking sorry. you didn’t think of me once, what i would go through without you. all you gave a shit about was the fame and attention you’d get from people who would never truly give a damn about you.” yes, you may be being a bit harsh with your older brother, but at the moment, all signs of respect have vanished completely.

groaning quietly before running his finger through his purple hair, su bong struggles to maintain his composure. “i thought of you every second of every day, so don’t you dare act like i don’t care for you when you know damn well that i do.”

“do i really?” you are unable to prevent the light cracking of your soft voice, eyes glassed and lip quivering with every second that goes by. su bong regrets his decision deeply, oh how he wishes that he were able to watch you blossom into the young woman that you are today. maybe if he were there, neither of you would be in this position.

“i’d hope so, yes. i understand why you must hate me, i don’t blame you—“ “come on, older brother, i could never hate you.” yes, you feel unwavering anger towards su bong for what he had done to you, but you could never feel true hatred towards him. after all, he is—well, was, your one and only friend. your best friend.

silence envelopes the both of you, a small smile prickling at su bong’s face after a few moments. “i love you, bumblebee. don’t forget that.” he whispers somberly, knowing that even after he disappeared off the face of the earth, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive him. and until then, he will try his hardest to keep you safe. whether that is from right beside you, or afar.

“su bong, i am so happy to see you again.”

𝐚/𝐧 — 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 !

[unacknowledgeable]

For the SK reader series, will the reader get a love interest?? Because there's something so dark yet hypnotic when u find someone who doesn't want you to change, they accept you as you are, worms and all. Something akin to Hannibal and Will Graham if you get me.

Anyways, just wanted to say your series is so addictive and I can't wait to read more!

Y’know, I've thought about love interests so much this week, because ppl seem very interested in me introducing one and I genuinely can't decide which one I like the most, because I find them all utterly hilarious. 

For the “so what are we” Gothamite, think Mikasa from DeathNote lol. Those are the major vibes I'm getting from them, and I just jotted down some conversations I imagined. I'll just call them the ‘Near Victim Interest’ lol. 

SK!Reader: “I will rip your intestines out through your mouth and dance the night away with them lining my neck”

NV!Interest: “Oh dear god…Baby you promise?”

SK!Reader: “...What?” NV!Interest: “What?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NV!Interest: “That is the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

SK!Reader: “I literally said I was going to split your head in half starting at the throat.”

NV!Interest: “Yeah, exactly.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NV!Interest: “Haha, sweetie is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to see- oh i've been impaled.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NV!Interest: (Laid out on the embalming table, having gotten into readers work place) “paint me like one of your crime scenes”

SK!Reader: “How… did you get in here?”

NV!Interest: “Oh the commissioner let me in once I told him we’re dating! Gordy’s so nice, right?”

SK!Reader: “Wha- Gordy?? Wait- we’re NOT dating! I don't even know you!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyway, one of the other “love interests” I've thought about was someone within the same Elite circles as SK!Readers “Mini-Brucie” persona. 

They’ll probably end up looking at this ditzy, airheaded, charismatic moron and, for just a second, catches a glimpse of how truly calculated the twitch of your lips are, how your eyes flash in cold fury at the touch of hands dragging you around the room, how the precise snap of your words works the room in your favor, intricately crafting every conversion you’ve been dragged into under your control, but never to the center stage.  In the blink of an eye, it’s all gone and they’re left thinking, ‘oh I could make you so much worse.’

 This person basically wants to groom the reader into the next “big bad” of Gotham, or maybe into joining The Court, without realizing just how far off the deep end SK!Reader already is. It’s like trying to teach someone the alphabet, while not knowing they can already read at a college level. 

They want to mold you into the perfect mastermind, able to rival the likes of Batman on wits alone, and wish to chisel at your marbled potential so that they may unleash their magnum opus upon the unwitting populace of Gotham. 

But… you just aren't interested in using your intellect for more than what you are now. You're quite content with operating as you have been, thank you very much. You have no intention of disrupting your meticulously maintained status quo. So, it's safe to say that this is getting proceedingly more frustrating on both sides. This person thinks you're putting all your potential to waste, unaware just how capable you really are, meanwhile you're trying to get this pompous asshole off your back so you can continue business as usual.

And my last love interest idea was diving more into the Jinx aspects of SK!Reader and going full TimeBomb lmaooo 

~Masterlist~

[bedfordxcx]

Keep it cool. | Spencer Reid

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Pairing: Post prison!Spencer Reid x Fem!Loser!Reader (I did try to make it as gender neutral as possible but I do believe some Fem slipped through the cracks.)

Synopsis: In which Loser!Reader works a case with the team, including a specific Doctor you're almost creepily in love with.

Word count: Around 2.2k

Warnings: Reader knows far too much about Spencer, mentions of death and crime scenes, I think that's it!

A/N: Introducing Loser!Reader, yippee! Although, there's not alot of the loser vibes in this (I do have a vision for the future though, comics hint hint.) Might make a vision board for you guys to see where I'm going.

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Joining the BAU is terrifying.

But for you, it isn’t the crime scenes or even the murderers. You’ve been an introvert your entire life, the sort of person who spends more time in fictional worlds than the real one. Friends? None. Social skills? Practically nonexistent. A loser in every way that counts. The very idea of interrogating suspects, chatting with local officers, or presenting your theories in front of a room full of people makes you want to curl up under your desk and pretend none of it exists.

So why do you stay?

For him.

Spencer Reid, the man who occupies every corner of your mind and whose name is scrawled obsessively across your journals. One look at him on your first day—gangly frame, untamed hair, lips that always look half a second away from darting into a fact-filled ramble—and you’re doomed. Completely and utterly bewitched.

Even the way he refuses your handshake that first day, with an explanation about pathogens, leaves you spellbound. It isn’t normal, but then again, neither are you. From that moment on, you find yourself obsessed.

You’re beyond gone.

When Spencer is sick, you swear you can feel the congestion in your own chest. When he takes time off to visit his mother, you stare at his empty desk, imagining his hands rifling through files, the ghost of his pen against paper.

Every moment revolves around him. You don’t just daydream about him; you study him. You memorize his mannerisms, his voice, the way he moves. It isn’t healthy—not by a long shot—but the more you try to pull yourself away, the more tightly you cling to the idea of him.

Now, as Hotch drones on about the case, his voice is just background noise. It isn’t important. Not compared to the gentle, rhythmic breathing coming from Spencer.

And then it happens.

The all-too-familiar snapping of fingers in front of your face, followed by Emily’s teasing voice. “Hello? Earth to Agent Daydreamer?”

Stupid Emily. Always ruining your (non-existent) moments with Spencer.

You blink slowly, your gaze drifting toward Emily as you come to.

“Hm, what?”

You clear your throat awkwardly and look down at the table, avoiding her eyes.

“I... I was listening, definitely.”

You glance at Spencer, making sure to memorize the highlights of his face, the way the button of his nose sits a bit brighter than the rest of his features. You’ll definitely write about that in your journal later.

Before blinking away and staring down at the file in front of you on the table, though your cheeks are flushed from lying.

“And—I—I asked you to stop calling me Daydreamer...”

“Uh huh.”

Emily’s lips tug into a knowing smirk. There’s something almost cruel in the way she looks you over, like she knows, but you quickly shake the thought out of your head.

Get it together.

Just then, Hotch’s voice disrupts the teasing (thank god). “Wheels up in five.” You’re not surprised the team was called in to take this case. Three women, all with dark hair and petite frames strangled to death with no solid evidence linking the cases aside from the MO.

Emily nudges your shoulder. “Ready?"

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The trip is uneventful at first. Hotch briefs you on the plane, and you do your best to listen with Emily’s teasing glances and Spencer’s fidgeting hands in view. You jot down notes about the case, but most of your attention is directed toward the man across the aisle. He’s wearing a sweater-vest today, the fabric accentuating the lines of his body.

You start to wonder what it would be like to feel his frame under your hands, to trace the curve of his waist, to kiss your way up to his Adam’s apple.

Your stomach flutters as you watch him. Is it too much? Do your stares linger a little too long? Do you look like a creep when you spend hours daydreaming about the feel of his hair or his skin?

Yes, you think, you certainly do.

But you can’t stop. Not when he’s there, right in front of you, so close and yet so far away.

He looks up, glancing around as if he feels your eyes on him, and you turn quickly back to your notebook, pretending to take notes.

“Where do you think he gets his coffee?”

Emily pulls you from your thoughts, the rest of the team still discussing the case in the background. The plane is dimly lit, the soft hum of the engines creating a soothing white noise. You’ve been staring out the window, eyes locked on the setting sun while your mind worked overtime, imagining all the ways you could make Spencer love you.

JJ arches a brow. “Who?”

“Reid, idiot.”

“Oh! The, uh... the café two blocks away from Quantico—they sell coffee beans for home use as well as the, well, drinks the baristas make..." You mumble, not realizing it might be a little weird that you know such specific details about him.

Why does Spencer drink his coffee black? Is it for the taste, or is it because it keeps him sharp? Maybe it’s routine. Maybe it’s just his preference. Either way, you have that fact on a page in your journal, labelled "What Spencer Likes."

JJ laughs softly. “You think you know him that well, huh?”

But Emily just nods, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “You know, I could see it. And I bet he has a little home espresso machine, too.” She smirks, glancing over to Spencer as he continues to talk, his hands flying as his tone grows more and more passionate.

“You know how he likes his coffee?” Derek’s smile is wide, and you can see the accusations forming in his mind.

“You’re drooling, sweetheart,” Emily teases, her voice a low whisper.

You pout. “Am not.”

But despite your denial, you raise a hand to your lips to check for drool anyway.

But you aren’t drooling. No, you’re so far gone that just staring at him lights up the pleasure centers in your brain. You have pages upon pages of notes just like this, detailing Spencer’s preferences and likes from the way he takes his coffee down to what you think is his favorite color (you haven’t confirmed, you are just that good at picking up on subtleties like his tie choices and such). But your lips might as well start to water, because now you’re imagining him pulling you in close, whispering all your favorite facts into your ear.

Does he ever whisper secrets to anyone? Is he the type to fall asleep talking about his passions? These were the thoughts you had before bed the night before this case, and you couldn’t help but imagine yourself in bed with Spencer, both of your bodies tangled together as he whispered to you, lips brushing the hollow behind your ear. Would he ask how your day was? Would he press kisses onto your skin, and tell you about one of the many facts he has stored away?

These thoughts are getting out of hand.

You don’t even notice the conversation has ceased until you look up and see everyone with their eyes on you.

Oh. They’d asked a question.

It wouldn’t be out of character for you to space out like this. You’re notorious for it. But still—it’s a bad habit, one you’ve tried to kick since your undergrad.

Spencer’s brow furrows ever so slightly as Hotch speaks. “So what do you think?”

“Well, from what you were reading in the file,” Hotch presses, waiting expectantly.

Is it a good answer? A bad answer? Are you supposed to respond? “Uh... what?”

A voice pipes up. Emily.

“Maybe it’s his first time out. Just a thought,” her voice is casual, but there’s an edge to it.

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful. Spencer spends most of his time reading, his lips moving as if reciting the words under his breath. You’d do anything to be that book. You bet it smells like him.

When the plane touches down, it’s already late afternoon, and the local precinct is eager for your help.

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The first victim’s house still smells of death.

You keep your face behind your collar as the M.E. walks you and Emily through the house, describing the scene with a level of morbid detail that makes you question your career choice. Spencer follows, his eyes scanning every corner, his lips moving in quiet conversation. It might be your imagination, but he seems closer than usual, his arm brushing against yours as he leans in to whisper something about the blood pattern.

Stay calm. You’re on a case. People are dead. Focus.

After the scene tour, the team splits up. Hotch and Prentiss go to the station, Rossi and Morgan check into hotel rooms, leaving you alone with Reid.

Alone. With Reid.

Emily flashes you a wicked grin before heading out, and you make a mental note to smother her in her sleep. How dare she leave you alone with Reid and look that smug?? Just to make it worse, she winks. Ugh.

Spencer glances at you. "I don't know about you, but I always work better with caffeine in me."

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The local coffee shop is relatively empty—just you and Spencer, the coffee machines hissing and gurgling in the background. You sit at a small table, a file open between the two of you, as Reid leans forward, fingers tracing the line of text.

“See the marks on her neck here,” he says, gesturing to the grisly photos. “That’s consistent with a rope or cord of some sort. But look at the angles. The depth.”

His finger travels up and across the photo, drawing your eye to the bruises.

“It’s not just strangulation.”

“It’s an odd pattern, though.” His voice has that familiar excitement to it, the kind that comes with unraveling a mystery. “It could indicate a signature, something personal to the killer. We should look into that more.”

Is his voice always this smooth? Are his lips always this pink? You’ve never seen him this closely before, at least not sober and awake.

Your gaze roams over his face, noting the way his tongue dips out to wet his bottom lip, the creases at the corners of his eyes.

Focus, focus, focus.

“And we could then link all of the victims together then.”

“Exactly!” He flashes you a grin, a real one this time, all teeth and crinkled eyes. It’s so damn cute you can barely breathe.

“Maybe he’s got a type, you know. A certain look, height—”

You can’t help but imagine Spencer pressed against your body, his breath on your neck, the rough stubble of his jaw dragging across your skin as he plants those damn perfect lips right behind your ear.

The warmth in his voice makes your stomach clench. You’re so close. If you leaned just a little bit forward, you could be kissing him. What’d he do? Would he pull back? Would he grab you and push you against the coffee counter? Would he pull your hair and bite your lips and whisper facts about how hot he thinks you are?

You can be a type.

“Mmhmm, a specific look, maybe... he wants revenge on someone who looks that way? And he’s working his way towards her. An endgame.”

The tension is almost palpable. You shift in your seat, trying to keep the air cool, to not let on how much you want him.

Spencer’s lips part slightly as he speaks, his tongue darting out to wet them. You can’t help but wonder if he tastes as good as he looks, like coffee and sugar and that je ne sais quoi that makes him… him.

You’re staring at him. You know you are. You shouldn’t be, but your eyes keep flitting between his lips, his hands, his eyes—you haven’t looked down at the file in what feels like forever.

You probably look like a creep, but you can’t help it. Every movement of his, every shift in his voice, sends a wave of warmth through your body. Maybe it’s obsession, maybe it’s hormones talking.

“The victimology might hold some clues,” he says.

“...probably, it usually does.”

“Right.”

Spencer licks his lips, his gaze lingering on the files scattered in front of you. He runs a hand through his hair, a habit you’ve noted when he’s deep in thought. If you had it your way, you’d have your fingers knotted in his hair, pulling him close as you kiss the curve of his jaw…

But for now, you’re here, in the coffee shop, trying to untangle your feelings for Spencer from the case at hand.

The smell of coffee and the hum of the evening news serve as a backdrop to your internal struggle.

Keep it cool. Keep it cool. Keep it cool.

[scoobywrites690]

maybe… könig who inexplicably is (and i will not be challenged on this) a cat person!! back at home, he’s got two cats, both of whom tend to turn their noses up at other people-except for you. his relatively new- especially given that he struggles with people *cough* women *cough*-girlfriend. he expects his cats to treat you like they treat everyone, quiet distaste and complete disinterest in being around you. to his shock, his cats seem to think you’re fine; they actually quite like you. i’d imagine this would stir some intense feelings in our giant austrian man… however u choose to go with that :P

it’s okay if this ask is too specific!! just thought i’d throw it out there because i miss my kitty so bad:(

This is so unbelievably cute! gosh I can't. just imagine this big brute of a man coming home from his big manly job to just have two pure fluff balls waiting for his arrival. and i totally agree he is most definitely a cat man, he loves when a cat comes running to him when he's out and he makes the kissy sound at them.

Hope you enjoy💕

This big brute of a man, who just has to step into a room and it doesn't take long for him to have people cowering underneath his gaze, this man who's classed as a literal battering ram at his big boy job.

How two little black voids waiting for him at home, two little voids that come running when they hear the key hit the lock, who are ready and waiting for when the door swings open and their owner is on the other side. greeting him with many meows as he struggles to make it through the door without trampling anyone as they weave in between his legs.

Desperately waiting for him to sit down so they can jump straight into his lap. Rubbing their heads in to him as they purr loudly. Happy to have their dad home and safe.

König found them out back of his apartment complex when they were just tiny little things, he almost didn't see them until a little meow caught his attention. And there they were, huddled together trying to shelter from the rain by some bins where two tiny little kittens, shivering together from the cold.

His heart broke at the sight, and without even thinking about it he scooped them both up pulling them close to his chest as he carried them to his apartment. König actually ended up phoning and saying he had some sort of flu and he couldn't come to work just so he could stay home and be there for when his new babies needed their next feed.

This massive man with a tiny kitten in one hand and an even smaller animal bottle in the other as he made it his mission to keep these babies alive.

So with them having spent their life with König always around they are very attached and even more protective of their dad. If König has some of the team come back to his, they won't pay any attention to them. purposely waiting for them to crouch down to say hello for them to stick their noses in the air and walk away with their tails held high.

(They're sassy little things)

Refusing to go anywhere near their dads friends. if they sit on the same sofa as them they'll get up and go lay on the other one. sometimes even going as far as leaving the room all together. waiting for them to leave before coming back out.

König eventually came to the conclusion that it would always be like this and just to accept it no matter how much he asked them not to (i believe this man fully talks to them like actual children)

That was until König brought you home. He'd been on a few dates with you coming back with a smile plastered across his face each time. But this time you both decided that a nice chilled out evening together would be nice, just to order some food, put some shitty show on the TV and enjoy each other's company. So that's what you both did.

Now König did tell you that he owned two cats, and when your face lit up with this news he couldn't help but warn you that they aren't too keen on strangers and that they can actually be quite rude.

so with this knowledge in mind when he answered the door to you, the cats already scowling at the sound of the doorbell. You greet König, giving him a soft peck to his cheek before sitting down in the living room and not paying them any attention.

Now this is what gets their attention. Becoming so used to people begging for their attention to now have someone come in and not even be fazed by their presence had them getting up from their cuddle pile and investigating.

With König in the kitchen trying to locate the menu of the local takeaway down the road, he's completely unaware of the events unfolding in his living room.

One cat coming right up to you and giving you a good old sniff, sniff of your hand, sniff of your arm. getting an understanding of this new person. The other one just sits next to you and stares. eyeing you up. almost in a challenging way. but you just sit, not attempting to pet them you just let them do their thing.

And next thing you know you've got one nudging its head into your hand asking for a good scratch behind the ear before laying down next to you, purring loudly. as the other one slowly clambers its way into your lap, curling itself into a ball and going back to sleep.

When König finally enters the room with a menu in hand he's dumbfounded at the sight in front of him. never did he think he'd see his cats loving up on someone that wasn't him, yet here they are purring away as they cuddle up next to you.

(almost feeling a bit betrayed by them)

The sight of the scene in front of him had his insides doing something weird inside of him. He's never felt this feeling before, it's like a load of butterflies just hatched inside of him and are flying about the place. His pulse quickening, heart beating faster than before. as he stares at the three of you all together in his living room.

He's not sure what's happening to him but he's not complaining.

(i wrote this in an hour because the words just kept flowing, i couldn't stop. i just kept writing. might have to write about cat dad Konig more in the future because i love this🤭)

[chaifootsteps]

Can I just vent for a second? It makes me so very sad to see how Viv treats her animation studio and employees. I'm from a third world country where people live with their parents until their thirties cause the economy is that fucked and you need multiple sources of income, or be born rich, to have something akin to a finacially secure, self-sufficient, first world country life. And it would be an absolute dream to have the resources and opportunity to run an animation studio and have a whole team dedicated to make wonderful stories a reality. It's not even jealousy because Im genuinely happy for people like Dana Terrance, studios like Glitch, etc., who seem passionate and dedicated to their work and their teams (as far as I know) And Vivzie, she has the money, the platform, a dedicated fanbase and really passionate, talented people who want to work with her cause they believe/d in her proyects, and she's so ungrateful and awful about it? I dont know, its just her having such a dream opportunity and see her carelessly butchering all of it like she doesn't even care makes me so sad. At the very least I know, if I ever get the chance to be in a place like hers, I couldn't be so abysmally ungrateful if I tried lol. Hell, if I had the money, Id be more than happy to pay the animators and team as high a wage as I could. Being paid minimum wage or less would only make some sense if I went super broke and even then I'd be so ashamed about it, I'd start selling my stuff to pay them if I had to. Just imagine, people working for you being able to live comfortable, fullfilling and secure lives on the salary you pay them alone? What an absolute honour that would be. Sigh. Thanks for the ranting space. Peacing out now.

Thanks for the rant, Anon. It was a good one.

Most people dream of being able to do what Viv did, using their wealth and position of power to improve the lives of fellow artists and improve their field. Viv willfully makes both worse, all to give herself more luxuries she can show off on Instagram.

[anotheroceanid]

Just saw this and it made me really sad. And in my head i really parallel Helen and Percy so can we have some Percy- before- her- kids headcanons or random facts? Maybe a playlist~?

Of course!!!

I did create a playlist for when I need to write teen Percy. I’m still working on it, but it exists:

A few headcanons… well, not exactly headcanons since I’m the author so I guess it’s just canon??? 🤔

Percy and Rachel were actually so close they went to a few parties together during their time studying in the same school.

Percy got a navel piercing before diving on Styx. I mentioned it a few times before, but I never get tired of it. She was a 2000s kid and she thought she was going today. She had nothing to lose.

As far as I know, Americans don’t usually get their ears pierced as baby, so I assume Percy’s ears were pierced at camp. Again, she had nothing to lose.

I always liked to think Sally’s mom or dad came from a Mediterranean country, but I never decided which one because I would have to put a lot of research on it and that would’ve delayed the fic a lot. So they still have Mediterranean blood, we’ll hear a little about Sally’s family, but not as much as I initially thought I was because, again, researching a different culture takes a lot of time.

I imagine Percy smelling like a Brazilian fragrance called Bossa (from the brand Granado). It literally smells like beach. It’s my favourite perfume ever and is very comfortable to wear. These are the fragrance notes:

This comes later into the fic, but Zoe did like Percy early on. She wanted her in the missions instead of Thalia, but Chiron said “haha, very funny! Nu-uh.” Because, you, let’s not wave the red cloth (Rhea looking girl) in front of the bull (Titans).

Personality wise, she’s nothing like Rhea. Like, nothing. So the Big6 find it a little weird. She has a similar personality to other person, tho.

[11queensupreme11]

Hi queennn

I have been thinking about this lately i and i just had to share it:

since mortals and the majority of the gods are terrified of poseidon is the term “beach parties” nonexistent ??

or did they replace it with pool parties cause i’m trying to imagine the yanderes reaction when they see percy in a bikini 🤭🤭🤭🤭🌊🌊🌊👙👙👙

so far it was only male gods baked or femlaes wearing slutty outfits and percy does wear bras a lot since its her mermaid outfit but like a full bikini??? Hmmmmmmm

Poseidon did mention that percy shouldn’t be ashamed of her “divine body” but that was before he fell in love with her what would he say when he sees her walking around with basically panties and a bra

is it normal? are the gods old fashioned much??

like can can girl walk with pants instead of a dress or does it go against tradition???

beach parties absolutely do not exist in midgard or in the human side of valhalla ☹️ for eons, humans have been terrified of the sea. modern humans have gotten a little gutsy, trying to fish, go on a boat, etc. but poseidon always makes sure to drown them so his mers can feed for funsies

so yes its mostly just pool parties!

as for the outfit stufff.

ror outfits are like.... slutty....... but in a fantasy artsy kinda way. like

"slut....... but make it celestialcore"

"whore......... but make it diva"

you get what i mean????? 😭😭

they are soooo fucking revealing for men AND women, but they're still very beautiful to look at compared to the.... plainness of human clothes.

for gods, if they wanna go swim, they don't have little pools like humans do but actual water sources like a lake, river, the sea! etc. and they're all capable of shifting into a mer form so that's what they always do. they go bare-chested (yes even most of the women) and with their mermaid tails and that's all they need!

a full-on bikini would be different! it covers just enough, but the most important part are the bikini bottoms 💀💀💀 percy always has a bra or some sort of cropped top or whatever, and as for her lower half, it's always covered by a skirt or a mermaid tail. it's never just OUT there, you know???

but with a bikini she'd be revealing soooo much 🤭🤭 i can really only see her wearing a bikini if she were at a pool party with humans in midgard or something (can't use a mer form with clueless humans around!!!) so the yans would go crazy lmao

poseidon: "i still stand by what i said.... ur body is divine and you shouldn't hide it..... BUT FOR MY EYES ONLY. THIS IS NOT WHAT I MEANT 😠"

the yans would be similar. i can see them either covering her up and getting her outta there or plucking the humans' eyes out and letting them die so she can continue relaxing at the pool (they ruined the party tho)

[namgyunation]

Me talking abt random "hcs" / general long ass ramblings and infodump about Nam-gyu under the cut. I talk a lottt. Can you tell I'm obsessed with him? LMAO. Last edited [1/21]

My general headcanons and ramblings about how I imagine pre-game Nam-gyu's life to be like:

I love quotes. Sooo, to quote Roh Jaweon, "[Nam-gyu] seems like he's carrying a lot of pent-up resentment."

I think it's pretty safe to say that Nam-gyu probably didn't grow up with a warm, supportive family or a similar environment. I like to imagine he's the youngest of a decent amount of siblings. I think this would tie in nicely to his endless desire for approval, his need to feed his ego, and his many angry outbursts. I like to hc that he's the youngest of 4 boys, his older brothers being fairly successful. he was the 'runt' of his family, always being pushed around by his brothers as they grew up. he is fairly timid around them, knowing that they would rock his shit if he attempted to speak out against them / stand up for himself, leading to his behavior towards others outside of his family. he takes out his anger and desire to be seen as an equal to his brothers on people weaker than him. I hc his parents to be run-of-the-mill but very strict, pushing their children to succeed. They wouldn't dole out praises often unless they felt it was truly deserved. Probably not the most affectionate or communicative, either. Nam-gyu's constant search for validation and acceptance, his tendency to assert himself over others to feel superior, and his overall timid, awkward, and cold demeanor would stem from this treatment. He'd definitely carry a lot of resentment for his family for looking down on him his whole life, essentially 'othering' him. (Also, now that I have this thought, I think of that scene in the bathroom where Thanos is confronting Myung-gi before the fight, and Nam-gyu acts like a little kid tattling on someone, whispering to Thanos about Jun-hee (Myung-gi's girlfriend), nodding and smiling all goofy when Thanos remembers, and it just makes me laugh thinking that maybe he exhibited similar childish behavior with his older brothers in order to gain their approval. Idk it's just funny to me thinking about it).

He never finished university, or if he did, he never got far with his degree. Or, maybe he did get a job with it, got sick of it, and decided to fuck off and just be a club promoter that sleeps around and takes any kind of drugs he can get his hands on. I could see him at a 'normal' job trying to play nice with his coworkers at first to appease his parents and then immediately being put off by the suck-up culture that was required in order to get ahead, his complete disinterest in the people there, the power dynamics that put him on the bottom yet again, just like his life at home, ultimately leading to him quitting, much to his parents' dissapointment. Alternatively, maybe he lies to his parents about still working a normal, acceptable job worthy of their approval that upholds their ability to brag about their 4 successful sons, meanwhile he's shooting up random shit into his bloodstream and getting fucked up at Club Pentagon, LOL. Although they mistreat him, he still longs for their approval, opting to keep up the facade of a normal, successful son that is socially adjusted and a functioning member of society.

Around the time leading up to him being recruited for the Squid Games, he wouldn't be talking with his family much, if at all. (Continuing on with the alternative hc where he hides his true job from his parents and family). He lives alone in a dingy apartment, which acts more as a place for him to do drugs, waste away his life, and host people that he's trying to gain the attention and approval of that would in turn boost his own status and ego. Despite resenting his parents for looking down on him and his brothers for putting him down and pushing him around his whole life, without any constants in his life, he wanders around like a lost puppy looking for something / someone to latch on to.

I don't think he was always into drugs or really had a desire to do them until he got a job at the nightclub. I imagine he got pressured into it by people he wanted to impress and maybe had flashbacks to his brothers pushing him around, calling him a wuss, dork, etc. that pushed him into doing the drugs, which naturally segwayed him to continue taking drugs that got more and more serious as time went on (Also tying into how he was so fidgety and nervy during the games and clearly held a grudge and a deep-set resentment against Se-mi for making fun of him during the pentathlon and calling him 'shaky hands.' The casual insult seemed to really touch a nerve for him, as it directly went against the tough, commanding nature he clearly wanted to exude and reminded him of the past treatment he faced from his brothers).

He acted out a lot in school, always attention-seeking even if said attention was negative. Got into a lot of fights and would win/get his ass beat on a pretty good 50/50. Rolled with a lot of the 'tough' kids and tried to assimilate into their group to feel bigger and cooler than he really was. Probably didn't get the best grades and slacked off a lot.

Definitely has a lot of friends and those that were generally close to him die due to drug usage. I like to think that he's no stranger to death, although that doesn't make it any less traumatizing. This has led to attachment issues, clinginess, codependency, and a constant fear of abandonment and being fully on his own, coupled with the way his family made him feel his whole life. He takes drugs as a distraction from his actual life and as a way to pretend that he's not actually alone a lot of the time. His job pushes constant social interaction and makes him feel more grounded and tethered to the world around him, but it also fucks him up mentally since people around him are always coming in and out of his life, whether it's by choice or force (eg. using him for drugs and then leaving, using him for sex and then leaving, using him to get special treatment at the club then leaving, maybe genuinely caring abt him and form an actual bond with him only to die from a drug overdose later on OR actually progress in life and ultimately leave him behind in his addiction).

(Okay, self-indulgent one here because I'm obsessed with the idea of Nam-gyu having a long-term partner before the games that ended up leaving him after he got into severe debt). He is toxic as fuck in any relationship he is, especially when it comes to romantic ones. He's possessive, clingy, obsessive, controlling, a gaslighter, etc. etc. you know. He's with his partner for a long time, them being the one constant in his life that he learns to depend on (also another hc, extremely dependent. He struggles to do anything by himself/without support). His partner stays with him through it all, although they grow more and more frustrated and agitated with his actions and continued drug addiction that drives their savings into the ground. Naturally, they also fear for his mental and physical well-being, pleading with him to go to rehab before he ends up overdosing like a lot of his friends. It's at this time that he invests a majority of his money into crypto while high (and losing it, of course), and I think the final nail in the coffin would be him stealing his partner's money for drugs since he barely has any left. Then, when everything culminates: his partner finding out he stole their money and blew it all on drugs, him losing all his money from the bad investment, and his addiction being in full swing combined with a complete lack of support/genuine bonds outside his partner, they end up having a big, messy argument that leads to their partner storming out and leaving him for good. This sends Nam-gyu spiralling, leaving him in a sickeningly vulnerable state that makes him the perfect candidate for Squid Games. (I'm gonna try to write a fic about this eventually!) Also, I view him as generally bisexual / unlabelled / not really giving a fuck as long as he gets to have sex. "If there's a hole there's a goal," as they say

Okay, on to the shorter, more concise headcanons LOL.

Promiscuous. I think he spent a lot of time sleeping around during university in an attempt to affirm his masculinity and ego that his brothers constantly damage(d). Getting lots of partners, getting complimented, and feeling wanted makes him feel good about himself. I think he would further sleep around while working at the nightclub, as well as constantly being flirty and hitting on guests that he tries to get to come to the club (I remember it being stated that he was a 'club promoter' for Club Pentagon, which is where I'm getting that from). Probably gets really offended when his advances get rejected, leading to him calling people 'bitches' / 'cunts', as seen by his behavior in Squid Game. Besides drugs, I feel like sex would be his vice/addiction.

He wears glasses but usually opts for contact lenses. However, his vision is decent enough that he can function without glasses. He prefers not to wear them because he feels that he looks 'dorky.'

He doesn't eat much healthy foods. His diet and self care isn't the best, and he often has to set reminders for simple tasks so that he doesn't forget to eat, do his laundry, etc. since he's always so focused on drugs, taking drugs, where to get drugs from, and how much money he has left to spend on drugs.

He wears his hair in a ponytail sometimes, especially when he goes to work. It helps him keep his hair out of the way if he's snorting something ^__^

He grows his hair out, not necessarily for the style, but so he doesn't have to constantly get a haircut or have to worry about maintenence. Sometimes he even cuts his own hair.

Not the best fighting skills. Maybe this is canon. Did you see him fall down when he kicked Myung-gi who was literally on the ground already?? He is still decently strong and experienced with at least being in fights, which is consistent with guys his age and height, but he tends to randomly throw his arms / legs around in uncoordinated ways when put under pressure.

A surprisingly good cook, which was a part of him that slowly withered away once he got addicted to drugs.

Wears a lot of baggy clothing and name brands.

The chain that he always wears in the games is from his mom as a graduation gift.

Very possessive, jealous, and clingy (the clingy part is basically canon, though) over people he deems close friends / his partner

Random, but he prob owns a couple of fidget toys that he randomly plays with to keep his hands busy and prevent him from going through his drug stash too quickly.

Likes wearing anything with zippers / pockets because it allows him to fidget with them. His jewelry also acts as a good constant fidget that he can keep on his person (specifically his rings, he doesn't mess around with his necklace).

Gets cold easily

Chronic nail biter, addicted to caffeine, and often plays with his hair

Insomniac

I also wanted to ramble about this one post I saw on Tiktok. I'm sure many Nam-gyu fans have also seen it. It was the post where someone was analyzing his character and saying they believed he didn't really gaf about Thanos and was just using him as a "mouthpiece", Nam-gyu being a puppet master etc. I can definitely see where they're coming from, and although I do enjoy that concept, I just don't think that's really what Nam-gyu's character was meant to be.

Simply, I don't think Nam-gyu was just "using" Thanos. He clearly cared about him. Nam-gyu is a selfish, opportunistic, egotistical coward (I still love him though). He is not at all within the capacity to lead/command a room in the confident way that Thanos seems to be naturally able to. I also don't think Nam-gyu would've done half the things he did in Squid Game if Thanos wasn't there to initiate it, either. He just seems like he'd be so TIMID without someone / a group to back him up. I feel that he would not have taken initiative against MG coin without someone by his side or bullied him as hard as he did, especially with In-ho there. As said by Roh Jaewon (Nam-gyu's actor), "He's one of those guys who's only strong around people weaker than him, but falls apart around anyone stronger." And to quote this article I found about him because I liked how they worded it, "[Nam-gyu] shifts his demeanor to fit the changes in power dynamics." I imagine without Thanos, he would've fallen apart due to his own nerves and just overall off-putting and aggressive personality that would've repelled people from him. He was just as scared as everyone else in that room, and Thanos seemed to be the one familiar face in the games (minus Myunggi / MG coin), along with the fact that they share similar interests / hobbies (namely: drugs, clubbing, being sleazy assholes, etc.), and of course, the fact that they've met before and Nam-gyu is clearly a huge Thanos fanboy. He latched on to Thanos for a variety of reasons: familiarity, clout from the fact he's a famous rapper, and an alliance in the games. Then the drugs, of course.

He cared about Thanos before he even found out about the drugs, yes. Him having drugs just so happened to be a huge plus for Nam-gyu, him being an addict.

Then at the scene where he's on Thanos's bed after the bathroom fight, he held the cross and was clearly emotional, trying not to cry. He spoke angrily, saying that Thanos "treated him like an idiot." He was angry, yeah, but gave a fuckkk about what Thanos thought of him. He wanted his approval SO bad. He thought of Thanos as a friend and clearly had intentions of staying friends with him past the games. He wanted Thanos to get his damn name right!!! He wasn't an evil scheming puppet master collecting people for his own benefit (with Min-su? Ok sure. But idk if I would say the same for Thanos).

In short: I don't think Nam-gyu was an evil puppet master with these brilliant schemes up his sleeve. He was/is just as scared as everyone else in that room, although he pretended not to be. He formed natural alliances to dampen his fear and hopefully survive. He latched onto Thanos out of familiarity and recognition of a 'stronger' person and someone who is a 'fighter', and it helped him get through the games with a pretty solid alliance. It made him feel invincible, like he could escape death.

He said he tells himself that he doesn't care if he dies, and that's what gets him through everything, but he clearly does. He fuelled his huge ego by putting Min-su down to make himself feel strong, but he clearly felt safer with Thanos around him as an ally. After Thanos's death, it's clear that this comfort / illusion of being above death and not caring if he were to die crumbles apart. He's alone now, really, really alone. Now he has to face his own thoughts and the gravity of the situation that he's in without a drugged up, energetic, loudmouth friend by his side to distract him from the grim possibility of death.

Nam-gyu is a coward starved for approval of those that he deems 'above' him, egotistical / suffering some sort of superiority complex, and filled with nerves.

Uhhh yeah.

A bit of a long blurb about nothing really, but I just wanted to touch on that Tiktok because I couldn't fully agree with it. This isn't necessarily/at all about Th//an/gyu either, I just feel like Nam-gyu genuinely cared about Thanos and isn't some sort of evil scheming villain mastermind, is all. He is simply a scared dude with an ego, a desire to be seen as anything but, and a wholeee bunch of personal issues.

[jadeite-art]

I agree that certain clues seem to suggest he didn't ghoulify in an entirely organic way.

First, there is that line you quoted. Why not just say "yes" or nod or even say nothing at all? Why say "something like that" as to imply that yes, radiation was involved but there was nuance to it?

Second, there's the name "THE Ghoul". I think by naming him like that, she show might have wanted to tell us that the term "ghouls" originated with him. In order for that to happen he must have ghoulified early on and then quickly made a name for himself in the Wasteland.

He's visibly different from some other ghouls we meet in the show. Sure, you could argue it's because he's a main so they put that extra effort into the make up, but when at the SDM Lucy says "you turn into one of those" she points to the non-feral ghouls that have escaped. She can tell he's different therefore it's not a production related thing, there must be an in-universe reason for it.

Finally, there's the mystery yellow serum. As far as we know, Cooper is the only ghoul that takes it. Yes, Roger was also looking for it but he was Cooper's friend and so he might have known about it from him. The ghouls at the SDM don't take any on the go. We don't ever see any other ghoul go after it and in the games, it doesn't exist at all. Or does it?

The script clearly says the IV bag on Cooper's grave is RadAway. We know he needs to take 1 vial/day otherwise he collapses within the next 48h or so. When the coffin opens, no vials spill out (if he was unearthed once/year he'd have to have been buried with 365 of those) and he seems a bit groggy but otherwise fine. Conclusion: the vials must contain RadAway or at least a variant of it.

IV bags seem a bit cumbersome so I could very well imagine a a different form of RadAway getting developed, one that would be quick and easy to administer on the go, like an inhaler vial. Question is: why would a radioactive ghoul want to take it? Is he trying to be less radioactive?

Well, if he is, his strategy seems to be working cause he doesn't trigger Lucy's Geiger counter like the gulper or the water puddle does. Still, how did it even occur to him to do this?

All that said, I don't think he ghoulified himself on purpose via drug - he wouldn't know about ghoulification at the time and those drugs might not have even existed yet - but maybe he was ghoulified in an experiment of some sort?

I think connecting him to Vault 4 which was a science vault where they did unregulated experiments on radioactivity was done on purpose. I think it was a setup for future seasons where we'll find out that's where he took off with Janey but she was then taken to Barb while he was turned into a test subject. Maybe as he began to ghoulify from the rads from the bombs they gave him RadAway to see if it would help and that's how he found out it couldn't undo the existing damage but it could halt the transformation, preventing him from further decay and eventual ferality. I guess we'll find out next season!

So I'm thinking about how a popular assumption is that Cooper Howard was ghoulified when the bombs fell - but when Lucy asks him about the radiation turning him, he just says it was "something like that". And I'm playing Fallout 4 at the moment and got to the part where Hancock mentions that he intentionally had himself turned into a ghoul and in the show, we have Thaddy getting turned into a ghoul via whatever the snake oil salesman gave him. So what of Cooper also realised that he would never get to his family in time or - if they're in a vault - he wouldn't live long enough as a human to see them again. Not to mention the odds of survival.

So what if he became a ghoul on purpose.

[dying-suffering-french-stalkers]

finally...playable disco elysium 👩‍🔬

does anyone have any recs for a first-time player (routes/paths, builds, fun lore, general gameplay advice)?

[edwinisms]

george rexstrew deserves awards for many things but i have to say. edwin’s bloodcurdling scream as niko gets killed deserves a whole award unto itself. like. that scream did not feel at all like a tv show scream. to a somewhat jarring degree. and i can’t express how much I respect that