#I think he is very good and loving person at heart

[xinganhao]

not for sale 💳 mingyu x reader. (3)

celebrity!mingyu and small business owner!reader. check out 🛒 not for sale's masterlist.

You can’t bring yourself to end the call. 

Your phone is overheating. You’re below the acceptable battery threshold of twenty percent. And the dark-haired boy on the other end of the screen looks more asleep than awake. 

You should end this call, but you can’t. 

Mingyu doesn’t seem keen on ending it either. His eyes are drooping and his head has begun to loll every so often. He’d spent the first couple minutes of the call talking about his day— the seemingly endless rotation of engagements that came with being a celebrity. 

Sometimes, it still strikes you as odd that this is the life you now lead. Being on FaceTime with somebody that hundreds, maybe thousands of people fawned over. 

But you were friends… right? And friends called each other. Friends texted. 

This is friendly, a small voice in the back of your head tries to convince you. So very, very friendly. 

The conversation has since mellowed out. Mingyu makes good on his word; he falls quiet, observing your work like it’s some form of entertainment for him. At one point, you even forget he’s watching. 

It’s why you’re a bit jolted when he absentmindedly mumbles, “You have nice hands.” 

You pause in the middle of bubble wrapping an order. One cursory glance at your screen, and you see that Mingyu is absolutely fighting for his life to stay awake. The sight almost makes you smile. 

“You should head to bed soon,” you say instead of addressing his compliment. “We’ve been on call for— what? Two hours, I think.” 

Mingyu says something too low for you to catch. You give a noncommittal hum of ‘hmm?’, prompting him to repeat what he’d said. 

And maybe he’s just tired enough to decide fuck it. Maybe it’s past midnight and that makes everything fair game. 

Because Mingyu breathes out a quiet “not enough,” and you swear something screeches to a halt in your brain. Two hours. Not enough. 

You swallow. He’s out of it, you think to yourself, your fingers quivering a bit as you cut, tape, seal. He’s sleep-deprived and talking out of his ass. 

That’s what gives you the audacity to ask what’s been on your mind for days now. 

“Mingyu,” you ask, “why do you want to be an ambassador for Bittersweet?” 

A beat. One that stretches long enough for you to wonder if Mingyu had finally succumbed to his exhaustion. 

But then, his voice— quiet, but not any less sincere— rings over the line. “Because I like your jewelry.” 

Plain and simple. You’re not sure why you expected more. 

He goes on, his tone a little softer, slower. “I like what you’ve done with the business. I like… how hard you work. Your passion. All that.”

Mingyu pauses to yawn. You glance over to see him smiling into his phone, his half-lidded gaze trained on your hands moving over your workbench. It makes his next words a one-two punch on your poor heart. 

“Your brand may be called ‘Bittersweet’,” he says, “but you’re as sweet as they come.” 

EXCERPTS FROM "MINGYU opens up on being named Rising Star of the Year"

Q: Earlier this year, the Internet fell in love with you for being an ‘advocate for small businesses.’ You’ve seemed to take it a step further, though. 

MINGYU: [laughs] Is that what they’ve been saying? I had no idea. But, yes— the pieces I have on right now are from a small business. It’s called Bittersweet Jewelry, and it’s something I found one day while scrolling through SNS. 

Q: You didn’t know the seller prior to purchasing? 

MINGYU: No, not at all. They didn’t even know it was me. I used an alias for a while. 

Q: I see. A lot of people believe your support has been reflective of your personality. Being caring, considerate. 

MINGYU: That’s very nice. I appreciate that. Although, if I’m being honest, I’m just a guy who likes good jewelry. I admire consistency, quality. [holds up his rings] These have it in spades. 

Q: That’s why you keep coming back to brands like Bittersweet. 

MINGYU: Sure. We could say that.  

[...]

THE TOP FIVE SONGS MINGYU HAS BEEN PLAYING ON REPEAT LATELY

Love Me Like That by Sam Kim

Linger by The Cranberries

Tadhana by Up Dharma Down

If You Do by GOT7

LMLY by Jackson Wang

[...]

Q: What do you look for in a partner? 

MINGYU: Now, Minghao… [laughs] 

Q: Sorry. The readers want to know. 

MINGYU: I’m never going to escape this question, am I? Give me a minute to think about it. 

Q: Sure. 

MINGYU: [after a moment] I’d like somebody dedicated and passionate. Someone sweet. And… 

Q: And? 

MINGYU: Someone with nice hands, I guess. [smiles] 

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello Dorito!

Can you please write Bruce, Dick, Jason and Clark receiving a good luck kiss on the cheek from their crush before they go on a mission? I’m curious how they would individually react and what their thoughts would be. I thought it would be cute if it was pre relationship for some reason (*'ω'*)

Dick

The moment you kiss his cheek, dick just smiles softly.

‘What was that for?’ He’d ask, his thoughts going a mile a minute as to what this all meant in the long run of your relationships as he knew damn well friends didn’t kiss each other on the cheek…well unless they were close like that, but Dick typically knew it wasn’t and wanted answers before he left for the mission.

‘Good luck?’ You shrug.

‘Just good luck?’ Dick would tease, but on the inside he was hop in that this was going where he was thinking it was going, hoping he wasn’t reading anything you were putting down wrong as he didn’t want anything to be misconstrued or misinterpreted. He wanted this moment for so long and wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to having something worth coming home to; or someone worth coming home to after a long and intense mission.

Dick would look like he was confident and whatnot but on the inside he was more happier then he’s ever been in his entire life. He wanted to shout to the rooftops that he had been kissed on the cheek by the person he liked, but instead decided to play it cool and try to work his charisma into his favour with you in hopes of a date. He’s done being coy and dropping hints, the kiss on the cheek had to mean something to you as it did with him.

Jason

Blinks several times as his brain tries to accept that you did just kiss him on the cheek.

He reaches up to touch the cheek you kissed lightly as his insides were waging war with one another, he was glad that you made a move first as now Jason knew you had some liking towards him, especially if you were willing to go out of your way to kiss his cheek before he leaves for a mission.

This felt like something he had read out of many, many, many books that he never thought he himself would ever experience in his lifetime, and yet here he was being kissed on the cheek by the person who he had a raging crush on that felt like it came straight out of a movie. He’s aware of his crush on you, insanely so, but when you kissed his cheek he didn’t know whether it was with platonic or romantic intentions.

Jason wanted so badly for it to be romantic, his heart yearned for it like he yearned for you as long as he had, trying not to show just how he melted like putty in your touches and general affection towards him. Other people try to touch him and he hisses at them, but you? You could hold his cheeks and he’d be fighting to need to close his eyes and melt into your hands, feeling safe enough within your presence to do so then he ever had anyone else in a long, long time.

He knew he was fucked the moment he realised that he didn’t want to push you away but pull you in close. Jason knew he was fucked but in that moment he didn’t care because a life of love with you was a risk he was willing to to take, after all he was deserving of a sweeter aspect of life then the one he was already given.

Clark

Feels his cheeks burn as he rubs the back of his head, the feel of your lips still very much lingering on his skin.

The kiss was soft, it was sweet and innocent but it was enough to have Clark becoming a little flustered and a bit sheepish in looking you in the eye, but he managed to do so and it was obvious by the look in his eyes that it was something that would affect his mind for a long while; even when you were long from view you’ll still be in the forefront in his mind.

His voice was caught in his throat but his mind was filled to the brim with all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t, for as soon as you kissed his cheek and wishing him luck, you were already out of his line of sight with a knowing smile graced upon your lips upon your exit.

Clark knew that he’d have to have some words with you when he gets back, but until then he could only assume that you were both on the same page without having to speak words to one another, the attraction was clear but would need to be communicated clearly sooner or later.

Clark could only hope he wasn’t the only one feeling something between the two of you, he was hopeful that he wasn’t when you placed your hand on the s symbol on his chest and looked at him the way you did.

Bruce

Doesn’t show much change visibly but his eyes do shine in amusement and his posture seemed to straighten a little more, only the keenest of eyes would’ve seen that he had also leant into your lips when you kissed his cheek.

Bruce prided himself in being a well put together man, but the moment you kissed his cheek that collapsed in on itself, and he was left wanting nothing more then to ask for another kiss and so he did with a hint of mischief upon his tongue.

‘Do I get another one?’ He asks you.

You only shrug. ‘Only if you come back in one piece then you can have as many cheek kisses as you’d like.’

He may have made an entire playboy persona for public outings and such, but in that moment he felt like a teenager with their first crush again, wanting nothing more then to ask Alfred if engaging in a relationship with you was worth the risks. He is a smart man and knew what he wants and yet while he knew what he wanted, he couldn’t claim to know what you want and didn’t want to assume on your behalf when you didn’t say anything of substance.

Bruce knew that something was different between the two of you -outside of him having a crush on you of course- and knew that once he gets back to Gotham he’ll have to strike while he still could in hopes that you’d allow him to treat you right, and allow him to spoil you rotten once in a while, and keep you safe should you all him to have your heart by taking you on a date to your favourite place.

[imsofreakingtired]

Hiii I love ur writing 💕 and I was wondering if u had any cowboy sevika hcs :)

anon i know you asked for headcanons but my maladaptive brain took me elsewhere-

destined to meet again

artist: @/olgasnoww on twitter

content warning(s): set in a wild west au; some au-typical violence (masc fem reader, but ambiguously described)

"it's been a shining star, it's been a blue sky gonna tell you something 'bout my story."

~~~

Dusk was falling, and the salon was still and nearly empty. The hot, dry air was putting everyone in a stupor, and the wind whistled a lonely song across the brittle grass and sweeping sand. 

With a bang, the doors of the salon swung open violently. Heads snapped toward the noise. Standing in the doorway was a tall figure in a dusty red cape. She wore a wide brimmed hat with a bandanna covering half her face. Peering over the cloth flashed steely grey eyes. 

Immediately, the three men sitting at the front table jumped up, pistols pointed at the stranger. 

It happened in a heartbeat. The cape whipped aside, a glint of the revolver, three gunshots. The men lay dead. 

The stranger sauntered over to the bar, where the barkeep stood quaking in terror. She sat down, tapped the table lazily with her right hand. Then she pulled down the mask. 

If he didn’t know it from the moment she walked into the salon, the barkeep knew he was a dead man now. The silver lined scars webbed over the left side of the stranger’s face were recognizable to every single person living in this side of the West, from the old men in their banks to the little children who heard of those scars as bedtime stories to scare them into good behavior. Rumor had it that she had tattooed the silver along her very scars, to bear them as a trophy and a warning to strangers. It matched the grey in her eyes. Many a rancher who survived an encounter with her weren’t able to recall those cold grey eyes without a shudder. 

The barkeep’s throat went dry. 

Sevika Jain—the Brute of the West—was in town. 

She gestured to the bottles lining the pantry. With shaking hands he poured her a drink, which she tipped back. As he refilled the glass, she looked over at the bodies on the floor. 

“Hope they got a chance to tell their wives they loved ’em,” she mused with a dry chuckle. Her voice was deep and smooth, as if she held the wind of the west in her lungs. “Isn’t that right, Chuck?”

The barkeep’s heart quailed with loathing. “You ain’t got a heart in that chest of yours,” he said furiously, despite the sweat staining his underarms. 

She just laughed again. 

A door banged shut in the back of the salon. The barkeep heard this, and took renewed courage. “In trouble now, aren’t you?” 

She swirled the whiskey in the glass. “What makes you think that?” 

“You wouldn’t have come crawlin’ back to this town if you weren’t in some pinch. Your men finally walked, didn’t they?” 

Idly, she pulled aside her cape, and for the first time revealed the infamous mechanical arm. As it gleamed in the fading light, the barkeep shrank back. It was a sinister contraption imitating the shape of a human arm, except there was a shining revolver in the place of where the hand should have been. It was this arm that rippled terror throughout the west. The arm that earned her her titles. 

“S’long as I got her, there’s nothin’ but the devil that can bring me to the ground.” 

She downed the second drink. Wiping her mouth with the back of her human hand, she glanced at the barkeep. “I got a meeting with your mayor.” 

He gave her a nervous jeer. “You’ll get it in prison where you belong.” 

The revolver clicked. “No,” she said. “I’ll get it now.” 

Outside the salon, a voice thundered, “You’re done for, Jain!” 

Sevika turned around. She could hear hooves pawing the dusty ground outside the door. She stood and walked slowly out the doors, and found herself face to face with a half circle of six armed men, the sheriff at the center. 

“Hands where I can see ’em!” He barked at her. 

She raised her right hand, brought it to her shoulder, and ripped off the cape. Before they knew what was happening, she raised her left arm to the signboard of the salon and shot it off. It crashed to the ground with a billow of dust. The sheriff and his men began shooting, and Sevika disappeared into the salon. They charged after her. 

Glasses shattered and tables cracked and splintered under the feet of the horses as they galloped through the salon. Sevika jumped over the bar counter for cover, turned around, and took out three of the six men in a single line of shots. Then she turned her revolver to the liquor bottles lining the shelf and shot them through, drenching the place with alcohol. With a spark from her gun she lit up the table. 

A rush of flames and smoke overwhelmed the place. Gunshots fired at random, bullets whistling over the crackle of burning wood. By the time they had made it out of the wreck, a horse from the salon stable was missing, and Sevika was nowhere to be seen. 

☆

You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, inspecting your reflection. You had just taken a bath to clean the smell of sex and cigarette smoke off your skin. Your poor mayor father, running the town and living the height of propriety, could never know that his daughter was running off every other night to meet her girls at Red’s House of Sin. 

Visits to Red’s always left you winded and a little bored. The initial thrill was ebbing away, and you knew the day was drawing closer and closer when your father would attempt to marry you off to the stuffy old doctor in town. You were thirsting for a way out, one way or another—out of this town, away from the miles and miles of dusty canyons and sharp toothed hares. 

You mused over the rumors you heard at Red’s tonight—the place was buzzing with talk of some notorious outlaw having been spotted on the plains. What was the alias? The Brute? Some of the girls claimed that they’d had her once or twice before, but when you pressed them they insisted they couldn’t remember what she looked like. All they knew was that she had a fearsome scar on her face and a gun for a left arm. And that she was as handsome as the devil. 

You snorted at that. There was room for only one handsome woman in town. 

Suddenly, you heard your window shatter and a muffled curse. You whirled around. A tall, muscular figure hoisted herself clumsily over the windowsill and sank down to the floor with a loud groan. The right sleeve of her shirt was bloody, the left sleeve—wasn’t there. In its place was a mechanical arm ending with a shining silver revolver. You stared at her. She looked up at you and raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. Her crooked lips curled into a smirk, she reached up and tipped her hat at you.

~~~

a/n: this has, quite against my best wishes, ballooned into an idea for a whole ass fic so umm,, to be continued 😭

[obito-in-disguise]

Reader's cursed technique is slowly killing them won the poll. So without further ado, I present to you:

| The price of power |

Featuring: Ryomen Sukuna, Suguru Geto, Fushiguro Toji, Nanami Kento, Satoru Gojo, and Kamo Choso.

Ryomen Sukuna

At first, you try your best to hide it from Sukuna. You already know how he despises your life as a sorcerer, the very thing he loathes above all else.

You can’t even fathom the storm that will erupt when he discovers it’s not just your choice but your death sentence.

But alas, you’re only human. Bound to slip up.

You return from a mission one day, pale as a ghost, barely able to keep your feet moving. A sickening weight presses against your chest, your limbs sluggish. The world spins violently. Before you know it, you collapse to your knees, hacking up blood, your body betraying you.

Sukuna watches from the corner of the room, arms folded over his broad chest, a glint of barely constrained fury in his crimson eyes. He doesn't move to help. Of course, he wouldn’t. This was your punishment for being foolish enough to put your life on the line.

The room falls into tense silence until his voice cuts through it.

"You are never to use that technique again."

Your head snaps up, heart racing. "How…?"

He scoffs, stepping closer. "Did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? I can see your life force depleting with every breath you take." His eyes darken with contempt. "I stayed out of it, thinking maybe, just maybe, you had an ounce of common sense. But it’s clear I was wrong."

"You don't understand, Ryo-"

"Be quiet." His voice booms like a thunderclap, sharp enough to make you flinch. He exhales harshly, forcing himself to regain control. "I've let you play the hero long enough. Running around as a jujutsu sorcerer? That ends today."

A part of him almost felt guilty, knowing that the only reason you clung so fiercely to your role as a sorcerer, fighting at the cost of your life, was because you were trying to atone for something that wasn't even your sin. It was his.

You futilely hoped your heroic actions would be enough to balance the weight of his transgressions, somehow blot out his sins. For every sin he committed, you'd supplant with twice as much good deeds.

And that infuriated him more than anything else.

"You can't just ask me to do that!" Your voice cracks with desperation. This was your life. Your identity.

"I can, and I will." His words are final. He grips your arm, helping you up, but you shove him away with trembling hands.

"You don't own me!"

He freezes for a moment, then tilts his head slightly, an impassive look washing over his face. "Very well, then. You’ve left me with no choice."

His voice drops into something more sinister. "Return to that place, and I’ll personally inform them that their highly esteemed sorcerer has been frolicking with the King of Curses."

Your blood runs cold. You know who you’re dealing with. You know the lengths Sukuna will go to get what he wants. His cruelty knows no bounds.

"You wouldn’t," you whisper, shaking your head in denial.

He leans closer, eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. "Try me."

Tears sting your eyes, but Sukuna remains unmoved. He pulls you into his arms despite your resistance, petting your hair with a gentleness that makes you want to tear yourself away from him and collapse all over again.

"This is for your own good" he mutters, voice almost tender.

Your life as a sorcerer is officially over.

As much as you want to hate him, resent him for his cruelty and selfishness, you can’t ignore the part of you that feels the faintest twinge of relief.

Twisted as it is, this is Sukuna's way of keeping you alive. His own brand of protection, drenched in menace and obsession.

When you look up at him, he tilts his head in response, his expression unreadable. And you know, no matter how warped it may be, this is love, as monstrous as the man who holds you.

Suguru Geto

Suguru believes this is some sort of divine punishment from the universe. Every night, haunted by dreams of past sorcerers lost to the system, he’s convinced that everyone he loves is destined to suffer at the hands of jujutsu society.

And so, with a heavy heart and a resolve forged in despair, he decides to strike back.

To do something about this God-awful system that drains every ounce of worth from its people until nothing remains.

One cold, rain-soaked night, when the world seemed as broken as his own heart, he acted. You were at your weakest, a moment when doubt and exhaustion blurred your senses. Before you could protest, he grabbed you and vanished into the storm.

Soon after, he emerges as a whirlwind of rebellion. The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons marks his war against jujutsu society, declaring that every act of violence, every sacrifice, was done in your name.

"Suguru, what the hell are you doing?" you yell, fists pounding against his chest when you realize what he's done "You made me a defect! I'm branded a traitor now!"

He grabs you, his eyes wild, glazed over with something akin to madness. "I did it to save you" he insists, his voice unwavering. "Don't you see? If you stay with them, they'll keep sending you on missions until you’re dead!"

The air seems to still as your mind races back to memories of simpler days, quiet moments shared in the soft glow of a setting sun, laughter echoing in corridors that once felt like home. You recall a time when every scar told a story of bravery rather than betrayal.

"That wasn’t your choice to make! I love being a sorcerer-" you begin, but your words are swallowed by the storm of your emotions.

"Why should your love for these people spell the end of your life!" he yells out, gripping your shoulders as though trying to shake sense into you, eyes pleading with you.

For a long, agonizing moment, your anger falters under the weight of his vulnerability. You watch him shake with emotion, watch the man you love unravelling before your eyes.

With everything Suguru had been through, you were surprised he didn't crack sooner. Haibara's death, Riko's murder, falling behind Satoru, you'd wondered how he seemed to stomach it all, but it was clear as day to you now. Suguru was not well.

He cups your face, his touch both tender and resolute. "Hate me if you want, but at least you'll be alive" a reassurance meant more for himself than for you.

For the next few months, he keeps you as a prisoner of love. Isolated and weakened, your mind becomes fertile ground for his manipulative truths.

He presents the scars left by the system, scars not only etched into your body but twisted deep into his soul. The memory of every lost friend and every bitter injustice converges in his words, painting the jujutsu world as the real enemy.

Slowly, insidiously, his beliefs begin to seep into your consciousness. The line between your thoughts and his conditioning blurs until you find yourself wondering:

'maybe the world wouldn't be such a bad place without those damned monkeys'

Fushiguro Toji

"Are you scared?" Toji’s voice is low, steady, but there's a dangerous edge to it. He tosses his gun up and down in his hand as he waits for you to respond.

Your throat tightens. What's the point in lying now? You already have one foot in the grave. "Yes."

The rage that flickers across his face is immediate and terrifying, but he immediately reels himself in.

They made you scared.

"Those bastards" he says, pushing himself off the wall. "They did this to you."

You grab his arm before he can move. "Being a sorcerer is where my heart is. It's not their fault."

His jaw tightens, teeth grinding audibly. "The hell it isn’t." He yanks his arm free with a force that nearly topples you. "You're not dying for these people."

"And I'm not quitting!" you snap back, desperate "If I'm going to die anyway, isn't it better I die doing what I love? for the people I love?"

Something flickers in his eyes, something raw and guttural. His expression falters, not in anger, but in something far more devastating; heartbreak, pity.

Watching you plead to sacrifice yourself for people who never gave a damn was unbearable.

Without a word, Toji turns on his heel and disappears into the night.

You don’t know how long you wait. Each second stretches like an eternity, gnawing at your nerves. And when Toji finally returns, the world as you know it has already shattered. The jujutsu headquarters is left in ruins, higher ups dead.

His shirt is torn, skin slick with blood, some his, most not. The stench of iron clings to him, thick and nauseating.

Your heart races. "Toji...What did you do?" you demand, voice trembling.

Toji wipes blood from the corner of his mouth, gaze cold and unrepentant as he begins to take off his bloodied clothes. "I handled it."

"You, you killed them? how could you! they were good people" The words falter on your tongue, disbelief mingling with horror.

He steps closer, towering over you, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you. "You're not well, listen to yourself! They were killing you slow!"

He pauses, his grip loosening, and his expression darkens. "You think I care what they were? Sorcerers, civilians, it’s all the same bullshit. They use people, grind 'em down, and toss 'em out when they're empty. I’ve seen it over and over, and you’re just the latest offering on their altar of self-righteousness."

His voice grows quieter, more resolute, tinged with a harsh philosophy born of survival. "The strong eat the weak. That’s the truth of this world. You can dress it up with loyalty and love, but at the end of the day, it’s kill or be killed."

Toji tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You wanna die a noble sorcerer? Fine. But I’m not gonna stand by and watch it happen."

The sheer weight of his actions crashes over you, several people were dead because of you. You can't stop yourself when you whisper "You're a monster"

His lips curl into a sadistic smile. "If keeping you alive makes me a monster, I’ll wear the title proudly doll."

Nanami Kento

Nanami is a man who lives by control. The jujutsu world is chaotic, but he navigates it with precision and discipline. Until the day they return your body.

The mission was supposed to be simple. But when your cursed energy surged one last time, your body gave out. The autopsy is clear; years of strain from your technique had broken you down from the inside out.

Nanami listens in silence, face blank. He barely hears the words, an incessant ringing pounding in his ears. His eyes are glued to your face.

It was the most peaceful he had ever seen you. You looked like you were simply sleeping, finally free of the burdens of being a sorcerer.

He abruptly walks away without a word, unable to bear the gruesome details of your departure any longer. Gojo tries to stop him, but Nanami doesn’t even glance back.

He doesn't cry. He doesn't yell.

Grief claws at his chest, desperate to break free, but he just can’t process it. Instead, he stares blankly at the letter Gojo had managed to press into his hand. He reads it over and over, willing a miracle, willing all of this to be some twisted joke.

'Kento,

I know you'd hate this letter, but I needed to tell you that I was happy. Being with you made all the pain worth it. Every single second of it.

I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave you like this. You have every right to hate me, I understand.

But I just wanted you to know that being with you were some of the best moments of my life, you made it all worth it.

You reminded me that there’s beauty in a world filled with curses.

I love you Kento, please take care of yourself.'

He slides down to the floor, hands gripping his hair. He wants to resent you, to hate you for leaving him so selfishly, but he can't. All his hatred and resentment are reserved for the system that chewed you up and spit you out.

Nanami Kento wasn't the type to die on missions. He was the type to survive no matter what.

But when he stands before Mahito that day in Shibuya, he finally understands. He sees what made you put your life on the line, the hope for the younger generation, the fleeting chance to make a difference.

So he closes his eyes and welcomes his demise, smiling as memories of you fill his mind for the last time. You were everything to him, and you always would be, even in death.

Gojo Satoru

You'd become something of Gojo's emotional support person. It took him years to open up to you, but when he finally did, he opened the floodgates.

So you felt terrible, terrible that you were wronging him by not telling him the true cost of your cursed technique, the very price of your life.

Each innocent, unaware smile he sent your way was like a dagger to your heart. Yet you were too afraid to tell him, so you tested the waters instead.

"Hey, Satoru… what would you do if something were to happen to me?" you ask gently, unable to make eye contact as you lie on his bed, your fingers absentmindedly toying with the sheets.

"What?" he replies, his tone light, but only for a moment.

"Like if my cursed technique was killing me…" you cringe as the words tumble out unchecked, so much for testing the waters.

In that instant, Satoru's stomach sinks. The moment you reveal what your technique is doing to your body, it's as if the very ground beneath him shatters.

He laughs at first, a hollow, forced sound as he desperately tries to maintain levity. "You're joking, right? that's ridiculous. We'll fix it. I'll fix it."

But when you shake your head gently, his heart plummets.

"I tried everything, Satoru…" you murmur, the admission hanging heavy in the air.

And that’s when you see a side of Satoru Gojo you’ve never seen before. His entire being stiffens with resolve as he rises from the bed, his playful personality shifting to something cold.

"Then you'll just have to never use that technique again" he declares.

You get up as well, hoping he was joking. "Satoru, that's not realistic" you argue, trying to meet his intense gaze. "What kind of sorcerer would I be without my technique?"

"Then I guess you don't have to worry about being a sorcerer anymore"

"That's ridiculous! I dedicated my whole life to this!" you exclaim, shock and desperation mingling in your voice.

Satoru simply smiles, a sickeningly sweet smile that quickly turns menacing as his tone hardens. "There's no point in fighting, Y/n. I have the higher-ups in my palm. If you don't quit, I'll do it for you."

You stare at him in shock. Did he just threaten you? A part of you wants to lash out, but you stop yourself.

Behind his threats, you see a man desperate to save someone he loves. A man tired of being the strongest, of being unable to save the people he cares about.

He swallows, gazing at you with a pained expression, his demeanour desperate. "My mind is made up, Y/n, you’re not dying. Not now, not ever."

Kamo Choso

When Choso loved, he loved fiercely.

His dedication and loyalty to the ones he loved knew no bounds, and you were no exception.

As you lay there, slipping away in his arms, he could feel his world crumbling. "No." he says, voice trembling "You're not leaving me."

"Choso…" you whisper, reaching for him weakly. "I'm sorry."

But he can't. He refuses to accept it. His love for you, his grief, warps into something monstrous. The raw emotion burns through him, uncontrolled. Without even realizing it, he curses you as your last breath escapes.

When you awaken, everything is different. Your body is no longer your own. It's ethereal, consumed by cursed energy that has become embedded in the very fabric of your being. You’re not human anymore. You’ve become a curse.

You both stare at each other in stunned silence, horror painting both of your faces. The weight of what he’s done, the horror of what you’ve become, sinks in.

"I... I didn’t mean to-" Choso’s voice cracks, guilt flooding his words.

Before he can finish his sentence, you burst into uncontrollable tears. You’ve become the very thing you’ve fought against your whole life. The very thing that has caused so much pain to others.

And when your friends and colleagues see you, they’ll be horrified by what you’ve become.

"I just wanted to keep you with me" he chokes out in panic, not knowing what to do. His fingers shaking as he grips you tighter. "I didn’t know-"

Without thinking, he pulls you into a hug, half-expecting you to shove him away, knowing that he’s the one responsible for this. He did this to you. But you don’t pull away.

Choso is all you have now. The only one who sees you as you still are, not as the monster the world will now see you as.

As Choso holds you, he can't stop the sick feeling of satisfaction that blooms up in his chest. He'd never let you know but he was relieved.

He knew your time together was always going to be limited, you were human and he was a curse.

Not anymore.

Now you were going to be with him.

Forever and ever.

Well that was creepy.

Tiny taglist: @catlover19282

Feel free to check out my other Jujutsu Kaisen fics and more stories!

[jeonscatalyst]

Q: Which of the Hyungs gives you the best conform and the most attention

Jungkook: Jimin hyung. (2014)

Q: How were you able to overcome the harsh trainee life?

Jungkook: Jimin hyung comforted me and listened to my worries. (2013/ 2014)

Q: Who is the easiest hyung to talk to?

Jungkook: Jimin hyung. (2015)

Q: BTS relationship chart.

Jungkook about Jimin:

“All nighter friend”. All the time it’s just the two of us doing something at night. I don’t know what we do. (2016)

Q:Who do your feel your heart is most connected to?

Jungkook: Jimin hyung…….there’s something we just get about each other both on and off stage. (2019)

Q:Who knows you best? (2018)

Jungkook: Jimin hyung

Q:What comes to your mind when you think about the members (2021)

RM: Leader

Jin: 30

Yoongi: grandfather

Jhope: dance

Jimin: charming/ attractive

V: friend.

Q:Describe each members charm in one word (2021)

RM: Dull/ absent minded

Jin: Interested

Yoongi: Interested

Jhope: Positive

Jimin: considerate/ thoughtful

V: Lonely

Q: What are the members to Jungkook? (2020)

RM: Leader

Jin: oldest big brother who feels like a friend.

Yoongi: My oldie

Jhope: My bro

Jimin: my “You are me- I am you”

V: my commonality.

(Jungkook fetches and gives a pair of sleepers to a manager standing barefoot) (2022)

Members especially Hobi….”wow Jk that is so thoughtful. That is amazing

Jungkook: “I always do what Jimin hyung does”.

Jungkook about Jimin: (2015/2016)

TO JIMIN: He has an extremely reliable existence. He gives me strength, provides me motivation and hyung tells me I do the same for him. We are similar in our mutual love for the stage. Our relationship is of mutual synergy. I am grateful to him for having passion and for continuing to hold onto his dreams.

Jungkook to Jimin: (2015/2016/ 2017)

He is my catalyst

Jungkook describing Jimin: (2015/2016)

“Ah Jimin hyung…he has a very kind personality. He also treats me to lots of good food. His eyes when he smiles are so pretty. There is no one else on the team who is as charming as he is.

If I were a girl, I would want someone with that personality…let’s go with Jimin hyung. If I were a girl, I would date Jimin hyung.”

Jungkook about trips he took with Jimin ( 2023)

“These are the best trips I have ever had in my life”.

“ I want to go back to the first day of our trip”

“Let’s do this till we are 50”

There is nothing clearer!

[sasahuaa]

Vil Schoenheit as an omega

Riddle - Leona - Azul - Kalim - Idia - Malleus

hello! i finally recovered from my sickness!! and finally finished this, changed subspace to omeganspace bc i didn’t think the previous word had the meaning that i wanted, i wrote a very soft!vil, but i hope you enjoy it!

gn!reader; sfw; warnings: none

Vil is a very desired omega, from men to women, young to old, alphas, betas and omegas utter his name with countless praises. Though he is popular and has many types of people offering their suits to him, he hardly gives them a second thought.

He is too busy with work! He justifies with the partial truth. Vil is somewhat flattered by the confessions, but subtly scrunches his nose when he feels their intentions aren't heartfelt and merely wanting him for his appearance or fame - which, in his opinion, is very common, he is alright if people think of him nicely, but he can count on his fingers who really know him.

It's also a matter of his standards; an mate with great virtue, objective driven, earnest and passionate is hard to find. But he won't ever settle for less, Vil may not have personally seen amazing relationships, yet he understands what people are capable of doing for their loved ones.

His papa works very hard and is still doting towards him, during his breaks, sometimes he reads words of support his fans write for him and he admires the thoughtful gifts he receives during fan meetings.

It's not romantic love, but still is some type of love, if only he could meet his knight in shining armor to show him what passion is like…

Courting

Vil felt he developed a kind of kinship with everyone involved in SDC, not only because everyone was focused on the same objective, but also as a senior and housewarden, he charged himself to guide the entire group to the standards he expected of them. Vil knows potential when he sees one, so he has good intentions when he pushes their limits, though many misinterpret his determination to contempt.

This kinship towards you shook from time to time, he respected how you managed the rest of the boys and your words of support were great incentives to them, you were also generous and elegant, his eyes couldn't help but linger on your form as you helped around the house and during practices, the omega admitted to himself that you were a hard worker and admirable for that.

You sure had many qualities that he approved of, but what truly moved his heart was how heroic you could be, of course he heard of you dealing with overblots before, but you coming to rescue him alongside Rook and Epel was the cherry on top for him.

Vil is not one for romance, he does not open himself up easily, much less give opportunities to others, and yet he became quite infatuated with you. He made an exception out of you, and while he never chased for a relationship before, Vil was committed to be with you.

You miss all the shots you don't take, and he lived by this motto his whole life.

This dorm leader is not ashamed to be the one to pursue, though he would also enjoy being equally pursued. It's a matter of equilibrium for him, as such, he tries to nudge for both. Vil is open about his interest, but he hopes that you would be the one to seal the deal.

And what other better way to have your attention than to use his main prize? Vil knows he is an undisputable beauty, and is not ashamed to flaunt that. He begins to wear your favorite colors, his lips are more glossy, his hair up so he can show off his neck, and when he is in the mood to be a bit more daring, he wears dresses, skirts or mini shorts and puts his long legs to use.

“What do you think?” the omega asked, twirling around himself, the dress fluttering and revealing more of his skin “I made a haul recently, if you come to my room, I can model all of my new clothes just for you”

Clothes don't have gender, he thought so since forever, if it's pretty on him then it's more than fair that he will use it. Bonus points if he can make you gawk while embellishing himself.

He loves to see you flustered, might even be his favorite hobby.

Vil also gives you a lot of things, he says he is not spoiling you, that it's because you did something that made you deserve it, though his standards for this in particular are very low. You eating healthy is already an excuse for him to give you something, be it soaps, clothes, trinkets, homemade smoothies, and mostly items from sponsorships that he does not see a use for himself. Between the gifts, there's a lot of diy stuff, but in this case he likes to do it with you. The omega would invite you to come over and make subtle matches of necklaces and bracelets.

And dates! At first he doesn't call it dates, but his intentions are obvious at what he calls “one on one meetings in which we get to know each other more intimately”. Pomefiore is decorated from top to bottom when he decides it's a good day for a date, candle light dinners and fancy food are perfectly prepared for the night, picnic dates always have the most variety of food and the gardens are trimmed to magnificence. Maybe all of this is corny, and yet he wants to enjoy all the kinds of cliches possible.

Vil knows that people like to talk about their hobbies or preferred topics, and he has dealt countless times with alphas in the past that didn't know how to shut up. Although the dorm leader really hates when people talk over him, he finds it adorable when you get excited over a thing you are passionate about, you could be talking about the cycle of life of beetles and he would stop anything he is doing to listen.

Even when it's a subject he is connoisseur of, Vil's answers keep being “Oh yeah? Tell me more”, it's not like he will pretend he doesn't know about the topic, if you have any questions he will answer, but he won't ever interrupt and will encourage you to talk to him. It very much warms his heart when you are being zealous and intense around him.

All of that just to make you fall in love with him.

He wants so bad to hear you preaching for his name.

And he hopes that one day you will talk about him as ardently as your most dearly passions.

Growling

Self-control is a sacred behavior that everyone should learn, that's what Vil believes and expects from his dorm mates. Growling, in Vil's point of view, is an animalistic form of expression, impolite even when justifiable, and as someone who prizes his own dignity he learned from a very young age to suppress his growls. Nowadays, he barely feels the need to do so, and doubts he ever will when he is in the right state of mind.

Vil scolds his underclassmen if he hears them growling, Epel could tell, as he is a frequent victim of his stern gaze. Pomefiore learned quickly to avoid Vil if they need to put out their frustrations, though very unsuccessfully most of the time, as hardly ever anything escapes the loyal hunter by Vil's side.

If he is not in his right state of mind… it's rare for things like this to happen, but if he is close to his heat and he is not using suppressants to control his hormones, you would be able to hear an almost inaudible growl when Vil reads a proposal to act in another villain role, or when Neige gets more attention than him in an add or post. It's a self-deprecation most of the times, that he deserves better, that he can be better, he will seek to be under your care when this happens, but after he turns back to normal he sees it as another obstacle he needs to surpass.

Purring

Vil is not as against purring as he is about growling, although both are expressions of intense emotion, he sees more use in purring than growling. It’s just that he doesn’t see the reason in growling and expressing his anger, disappointment and upset in a verbal and yet uncommunicative way, it’s stressing to both him and whoever hears it in his opinion. But purring is different, it brings healthy benefits for himself, his alpha and, if he ever has one, future pups.

He also knows that some celebrities use their purr as a form of attracting fans, but he is not comfortable sharing it for the world, seven knows what weirdos would be doing with this kind of audio. Vil does have exceptions though, sometimes, when little pups get lost in events he is part of, he will purr away their frustrations until their guardians find them, but he makes sure that there are no cameras or audio recorders close by.

When he is with you, if you are being especially nice he will reward you with purrs, a good job deserves a exquisite prize after all. But honestly, his concept of “being nice” for him is really simple, taking care of yourself? Purr. Going out of your way to please him? Purr. Finishing your assignments so you have more time for him? Epel got jumpscared by the loud sound.

Nesting

Vil maintains a very neat nest, he changes the blankets, sheets and pillowcases each three days, he color codes and also separates by texture. Anytime he uses his nest he tidies it before he leaves, just like his appearance, not a single rumple is supposed to be seen in his safe haven.

As for the people he permits to go in it, not a single person besides himself and his mate are even allowed to see his nest. It's a very intimate endeavor for him, he can understand that some omegas are more catering towards pups and such, like Kalim and his communal nest, but he simply can't fathom the thought of also doing so.

It's not like anyone else was worthy enough anyway.

Months go by into your relationship before he invites you to his nest, he wants to make sure you are the right person before he does. Though he much prefers doing his daily skincare routine on his vanity, he also adores to make you sit on his nest, pull you to him until your back hits his chest and apply creams to your face, sometimes just sweep the brush on your face without any product, a gentle and slow movement in caress while he kisses softly the top of your head.

In all, he doesn't spend too much time in his nest, he chooses to do so when he feels particularly vulnerable or wants a deeply romantic time.

Marking

Vil likes to take one step at a time, because of that, it would take a while for him to properly mark you. He sees it as a matter of protection and privacy, it's not a secret that fans can be quite overprotective over their idols, and he fears that you would be an easy target, being someone from another world and, therefore, vulnerable.

At first, he would make essential oils, lotions and perfumes of his scent and gift to you, it's a disguisable form of marking and can be deferred as simply your choice of favorite smell and barely conclude that it's related to him, as these kinds of aromas have a superficial fragrance. It's enough for Vil though, at least in that moment of your relationship, enough for his omega purr in possession and chant that you are his, his, his!

Eventually Vil gets greedy, and lipstick marks blossom onto your skin. It's unseen in the start, hidden under your sleeves or collar, subsequently becoming more visible, until a visible kiss mark is placed on your cheek.

When he feels his public is ready or that he can't wait for the next step of your relationship, Vil would be more than honoured to receive and give a bite mark.

Omeganspace

He is not one to indulge very often, and this includes his omega instincts. It feels good when it happens, of course, but he gets quite uncomfortable later on, to be so vulnerable and out of control, he feels the possibility of falling out of perfection anytime he enters his omeganspace.

It would take a lot of trust in you for him to permit himself to strip off his senses. But when he does, he is quite talkative. Naturally, Vil likes to show off, and in situations like this he is no different, stretching out his body and whining for attention.

And if he is demanding being his normal self, he is hundreds times worse in this state, you won't get away from his line of vision, and he won't permit you to stray your gaze, cupping your face and snarling in warning if he sees your eyes tremble.

But, as always, even if his mind is filled with cotton, he promises to make it worth your while, you just need to cherish him, treat him as the queen he is, and Vil will deliver the greatest rewards for his knight.

☽ ☼ ☾

“Thank you for coming today, prefect.” Vil opened the door for you, his slender fingers circled around your wrist, subtly pressing his fingertips on your scent gland, he pulls you into his dorm “Your help is greatly appreciated.”

“It's no problem, what do you ne-” you swallow your words, and Vil feels chills coming up his spine.

You look at him, truly look at him, his skin ignites everywhere your gaze lands upon. For a brief moment, he feels too exposed, thinking that the miniskirt he chose for the day was way too short, but an undeniable thrill began to blossom in his stomach. This is what he wanted all along, for your attention to belong for him alone.

“You look stunning” you settled to look into his eyes, and Vil's heart filled with indescribable warmth, he returned a soft smile.

“As always. You don't look bad yourself” yet, your eyes remained averted from his body, and despite the frustration he felt into the very pit of his soul, he rested easily knowing that your focus was still on him.

The longer he spent with you, nudging the corners of your mind to learn more about you, he came to an understanding that you were afraid of crossing his boundaries and making him uncomfortable. Adorable that you believe it would be disrespectful to admire him, even, but it’s quite bothersome when he dressed with intent.

It's no matter, soon you would come around your behaviour, and it would be impossible for you to notice anything else but him, Vil was sure of that.

Vil pointed to a pile of cushions, rushing you to sit on it. He rounded the room, stopping at his desk and taking many lipsticks with him, then he walked to your side, comfying himself on another pillow.

“I am testing new formulas for my make-up, though I am still uncertain which one is the best,” he started, uncapping the first lipstick “can you help me decide?”

“Mn” but as soon as you went to take one of the lipsticks, he swatted your hand away.

“Transfer proof,” Vil played with the cap between his fingers, coloring his lips with deep red “is the characteristic I am looking for.”

“I don't understand how I can help with that.”

“Stay still,” the omega got closer to you, his scent containing a hint of excitement “you will be the perfect test subject” and then, his lips touched yours.

[star-41306]

How do y'all think the duffers are going to go about initiating Byler?

I've been thinking about this a lot lately and would love some thoughts on how everyone thinks Byler will progress. This is my opinion on the matter. (PS: this is a very mike centered analysis as I believe his perspective is the most beneficial to the conversation since he is at the center)

Mike is hiding his feelings for Will, but what benefit does this have for those involved? To us, the viewers, we can see the pain Will, El, and Mike experience through this situation. No party is receiving what they truly need to progress their happiness and growth.

El wants a boyfriend who will tell her that he loves her for who she is as a person, not her capabilities. At the heart of this is a need to be understood, but El herself doesn't really know who she is. Her growth is dependent on finding herself without outside influence.

Mike wants a girlfriend to seem/feel 'normal' and cool. He knows who he is but is repressing it. At the heart of this is a need to be desired. Sure, El wants him, but she does not know the truth about Mike. Mike's growth is dependent on someone finding comfort in the real him.

Will wants someone to treat him normal. He knows he's a freak and while he doesn't necessarily try to hide it, he wants the comfort of not being treated differently for it. Will's growth is dependent on the acceptance of those around him.

The existence of a romantic relationship between Mike and El goes against all of this potential growth. Mike idolizes El, never being able to see past her abilities. El is unable to find herself at the cost of being mikes cover. While doing this, he rejects his true self and affection for Will, because he believes he is doing what's right. Simultaneously, Will is left feeling dejected and alone in the disregard of his feelings.

I think Mike has very low self-esteem. It comes with the territory of being a nerdy queer teenager in the 80's. I also, however, believe that when he has enough faith in himself, or the stakes are high enough, he's good at taking charge of a situation. He is selfless, a kind of selfless where you can't always tell he cares for those around him, but he would sacrifice his own comfort and livelihood for the people he loves.

But if Mike is so selfless, why isn't he fixing the situation for everyone involved? Because of one simple fact: He is clueless. He has no idea what he's doing to El or Will.

He may know Will is upset about something while in the Van with him, but that boy has no idea what's going on in Wills head. He might not even realize the painting he got from Will is the one El was talking about in her letter. With everything going on, he probably still thinks will has a girl he likes back up in Cali and this is a completely different painting.

He senses El is upset and won't talk to him, but he thinks it's because she lost to Vecna. He has not even the slightest clue it's partially due to his conditional and untrue love confession. El believes that mike only said he loved her because she finally got her powers back.

Mike thinks he gave El and Will what they wanted. El wanted a love confession? check. Will wanted mike to move on and fix his relationship with El? check. done and done. At least that's what he thinks.

Now that we have motives and perspective out of the way, here's a general idea of how I think the Milkvan-Byler transition will pan out.

We have already established in the show that Will is too selfless to confess, thinking he's saving a perfectly healthy relationship that just so happens to involve the boy he loves and the girl who saved him. There is no way he would break them up on his own, or he would have done that already. The action relies on Mike and El. They both need to respectively decide a breakup is necessary for this to work.

The breakup cannot be prompted by one or the other, it must be prompted by both. Mike cannot be the only one desiring a breakup, because El needs to take her power back and make that decision by herself. At the same time though, El can't be the only one either, as mike needs to accept his feelings on his own and stop being someone he's not. Mike not initiating would also make Will seem like a second option and completely negate Wills growth of being accepted for simply being.

El will have distanced herself from mike tremendously. They may not have broken up officially, but she's realizing Mike is not what she needs right now. She will probably be spending time with Hopper and Joyce training to fight Vecna, and the reminder that that's the only thing mike seems to like about her will only push her more towards her own sense of self. Maybe she still has hope for her and mike, but that is not her focus right now.

While El is distanced, Mike and Will will fall into the same roles they did in season 2. Will will struggle with the supernatural aspects of the plot, while Mike takes care of him and keeps him safe. This will restore Mike and Wills friendship.

Mike simultaneously will realize how much happier he is away from El, because he can't help but act like someone he's not when he's around her. He will also realize the comfort he finds in being relied on by Will. This won't necessarily prompt him into the breakup, as he still believes dating El is the best way he can support her. He might want Will, but he still feels like he can't have him.

I Because of this, El will be the first to initiate, but it will be mutual. I think they will have a long discussion (maybe starting as a fight) about Mikes lies in his speech and the pressure he felt to conform to this relationship. El will share how his actions have not helped the relationship, but instead made them both feel miserable, trapped, and unappreciated. They will realize that the other is not what they need, and though they will both need platonic support through this journey, they just can't benefit each other this way.

While Mike and Will are reconnecting, El will finally notice... everything. The stares, soft voices, comforting, and everything will click. El might need some help understanding though, because even though she did not have a normal childhood, she is still subjected to heteronormativity even if she joined the game late. She will make the connection that that is how she should have been treated, and though they are both boys, I think a sit down with one of the other characters (Johnathan? Hopper? Joyce?) will help her connect the dots.

I think the painting and mikes feelings for Will may become an entirely different discussion later in the season, and this is what will push mike into feeling allowed to want him. The combined acceptance from El, and the implied reciprocation from Will could be the push mike needs for his own self-acceptance.

This will allow Byler to build up in a healthy way where all parties benefit and are able to build even stronger connections with each other. Through honesty, acceptance, and love, all of which have been lacking.

Thank you if you read all of this. Please let me know if you feel like this will go in an entirely different direction in ST5!!!

[astroyongie]

✗♡✗♡ +18 Next Partner Reading ✗♡✗♡

Note: Hey everyone! February is the month of love and for that I have prepared some special readings and also games! We will start this one with this incredible reading! next up with be soft love, which will be the opposite and focused on romanticism <33 Please enjoy!

-> Reading done with: The Magical Erotic Tarot

Warning: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

-> Take a moment to breathe and focus. Choose the image you feel the most attracted to and enjoy!

ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴏɴᴇ- ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɴᴀᴋᴇ

-> 9 of wands, the chariot, 6 of wands

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 How Do They Perceive You?: The first thing that strikes me in this reading is the fact that they are obsessed with you in all shapes and forms. They love your lips, your tummy. The way you, speak the way you move. Your future partner will love to show you off to the people yet he keeps things between the two of you quite discreet. They perceive you as someone so soft, so innocent. Might call you "little dove", "my bird", "bunny". You truly are someone they cannot leave without, as they have been manifesting you for longer than you have been.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Dynamic: There's definitely so much passion in here, and your dynamic has a fun side of two coins. In one moment your partner will be the type to take you everywhere with them, long car rides, soft talks, pillow talks. Them drawing soft patterns in your back while you are relaxing. Yet, they would also not be scared to punish you, push you right into the bed, on your tummy when you are acting like a brat. Spanking your ass if you dare to raise your voice at them. They excel domination and respect and your dynamic would show exactly that.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Smash Dynamic: A ass person. They won't hide it and their kinks would all be around that. For the dynamic of your intimate sessions there's a lot going on. Body worshiping, spank play, ass dropping, anal, punishment play. but also overstimulation and denial depending on their mood and liking, soft degradation as well. The dynamic in the relationship also shows inside the bedroom. But this person truly would have always their hands one your, as they can't keep it to themselves

ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ- ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏ

-> 8 of swords, 2 of wands, the magician

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 How Do They Perceive You?: They probably desire you much than you desire them, and that's because their need of emotional connection is linked to their physical connection. They perceive you as someone who is seductive, someone who has caught them and now they have no issue out of this relationship, this passion, this desire. They perceive you as someone they need to possess, to own, to keep away from prying eyes. That's how much obsessed they are over you

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Dynamic: You both actually have a very good dynamic, one that is flirty, teasing despite also being able to be serious when its needed. You would be the type of couple that share food, cook for one another. when you go out to eat, you can rub your feet/leg on them and they would respond. there's so much chemistry, passion and romanticism. there's no secrets, you both are able to speak to one another without hiding things

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Smash Dynamic: This is all about learning things with each other. There's a possibility that this person will have your virginity and you theirs in most cases. in other cases, it indicates someone with a lot of experience, and they will make are to show you everything they know. Threesomes, exhibitionism, voyeurism, body worship, exchange of roles and kinks related to pushing forward and exploring without boundaries. that's how much comfortable you are with them.

ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ- ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴍᴇɢʀᴀɴᴀᴛᴇ

-> The Lovers, The Knight of swords, The Sun

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 How Do They Perceive You?: I think they perceive you as the one that will fix their heart, their ego. The one person that they found that will make it all go away and make it feel right. It feels like they would be obsessed with your style, the way you dress and act. they love your chest/breast area as well. For some of you, this person is probably in a relationship but they will leave their partner for you because the chemistry and the attraction toward you is way greater than with who they are currently.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Dynamic: Okay this dynamic is quite interesting, we have here a partner that is quite dominating in the relationship. the type that will take command on things, that will dictate the relationship and provide for you. It seems like they want the other people know you belong to them, and that they are here for you. It's a dynamic where you are mostly being babied, cared for.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Smash Dynamic: There's such a good dynamic here, the sex is so hot, so passionate where you feel yourself like the happiest person in there. Some kinks I am able to perceive is hair pulling, whips, voyeurism as well. perhaps some loving missionary, naked skin agaisnt skin smash, because they need to feel you close and there. It's a sex that is truly connected and where you both take care of one another.

ᴘɪʟᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀ- ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴᴅʟᴇꜱ

-> 9 of swords, The Priestess, 10 of pentacles

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 How Do They Perceive You?: You are someone they finds very broken yet so sensual. They probably have this idea of "I need to fix them" as they see you as a little person who just needs to feel loved. They get protective of you rather quickly in the relationship, they want you close and crave you. They love your scent and your hips/waist. they would always want to have their hands in there

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Dynamic: The dynamic is beautiful and the way they put you in a pedestal, you have honestly won this one. To them, you are everything, innocent and young, soft and so fragile. They would are for you, while also giving you your independence and the space to make decisions for yourself. You would mostly lead In the relationship. It's a dynamic where you both respect and learn with one another.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Smash Dynamic: Definitely calls you "kitten" in the bedroom, very "pussy drunk" type of person when it comes to you. they love to strip you naked, have their mouth in your neck and mark you up. They will worship you, kiss your body up and down for their own amusement and pleasure. feed you fruits, buy you the prettiest sets of lace. Mirror sex or like having a mirror in the roof would be also a thing it seems

ᴘɪʟᴇ ꜰɪᴠᴇ- ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏꜱᴇꜱ

-> knight of wands, the judgment, 7 of cups

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 How Do They Perceive You?: Their perception of you is quite interesting Ig I must say. the cards show that they see you as someone they can grow old with, someone they want to adventure in the world with, someone they want to share their life with. They love your voice, your breasts/chest area as well. The type to think you are a precious diamond that can only be polish by their own fingers

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Dynamic: ah, "ride or die" type of thing it seems. Like I said earlier they are the type of person who want you for life so they have made sure they treat you as the mother/father of their children, like a husband/wife material. This person treats you right, provides to a certain extent but their love for you is priority. they will always defend you, no matter what.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Smash Dynamic: there's a lot of riding sex in here, also you against their chest with they use their hands and mouth. Breeding kink, bondage and age play can be things they are into. They love making out before and during the sex, their lips on your as there's thrusts coming in and out. they are quite romantic as well inside the bedroom, slow passionate sex is preferred by them than the rough one.

ᴘɪʟᴇ ꜱɪx- ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴘꜱᴛɪᴄᴋ

-> 3 of swords, page of cups, 10 of swords

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 How Do They Perceive You?: they see you as the person that saved them after a heartbreak. It feels like this person has been wishing for love and a partner after a huge disappointment, and the moment they saw you everything made sense. they are obsessed with you. their hand always on your thigh as they talk to you. they will serenade you because to them, you are someone who deserves all the efforts

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Dynamic: Such a romantic dynamic honestly, this person and you are the type to write hand letters, notes, texts often and leave them around/send them when you least expect them to. They might call you "kitten" in some cases. A dynamic where they would stay up late until you come home, until you need them. the type that is jealous and would try to be around you every time, because there's some trust issues alongside the desire they have for you

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶 Your Smash Dynamic: mutual masturbation can be a thing inside the bedroom, soft music in the background as well, voyeurism or exhibitionism (the fear of getting caught is what I am sensing). Threesomes can be a thing or like you being attached while your partner smashes someone else (this only in certain cases). there's a lot of make up sex, making your cry during it, forcing yourself to look at your reflection as well. boob play, a intimacy that can so times get a little rough depending on both your energy

[emotionallychargedtowel]

The em dashes in this example don’t exactly “belong” to Emma (the character) though, right? I’m pretty sure this is a summary of Mrs. Elton prattling. I guess I just don't want it to sound like they're Emma's responsibility, which adding them to her name seems to do. Unless they are her responsibility. Hm.

She is the reader’s point-of-view character. She's arguably the one who summarizes Mrs. Elton in this way. If she took Mrs. Elton more seriously it doesn't seem like her words would be summarized in this way. But then we’d have to read every word Mrs. Elton says here—verbatim. No thanks.

I was wondering if the reason Emma is such an em-dash outlier might be because of Mrs. Elton and/or certain other tiresome or longwinded characters (I'm thinking of Miss Bates, of course), along with Emma’s halfway listening to them.

So I cracked open my copy. And now I'm taking a perfectly good joke and turning it into a detailed discussion of my hyperfixation. Well, hopefully it's of interest to others anyway.

The short version of the answer to my question is that Emma's em dash quotient doesn't seem to be entirely, or even mainly, attributable to any specific character, including any propensity of Emma's as our point-of-view character. It's mostly just that Austen goes all out with the em-dashes all over the place. Now, I love em dashes and overuse them habitually. But the em dashes in Emma seem downright excessive to me.

Check out this bit where Emma and Harriet are looking at Mr. Elton's house:

“…there could be no possibility of the two friends passing it without a slackened pace and observing eyes.—Emma’s remark was— ‘There it is. There go you and your riddle-book one of these days.’—Harriet’s was— ‘Oh! What a sweet house!—How very beautiful!—There are then yellow curtains that Miss Nash admires so much.’”

They really are extraneous here.

At other points, they seem to serve the usual purposes in dialogue, like making a sentence into a sort of aside or showing when someone has been cut off by another person. And sometimes they accomplish other worthwhile things. For one thing, as in the Mrs. Elton summary, they often do the work of helping to condense a bit of small talk. There's also a part where Miss Bates goes off at length twice in quick succession, in which the em-dashes show how abruptly she jumps from one topic to the next.

Mr. Knightley's response when he thinks Emma is upset because of the revelation of Frank Churchill's engagement to Jane Fairfax makes good use of them in a related way:

"...[S]he found her arm drawn within his, and pressed against his heart, and heard him thus saying, in a tone of great sensibility, speaking low, 'Time, my dearest Emma, time will heal the wound.—Your own excellent sense—your exertions for your father's sake—I know you will not allow yourself—.' Her arm was pressed again, as he added, in a more broken and subdued accent, 'The feelings of the warmest friendship—Indignation—Abominable scoundrel!' —And in a louder, steadier tone, he concluded with, 'He will soon be gone. They will soon be in Yorkshire. I am sorry for her. She deserves a better fate.'"

The em dashes show the abrupt way he switches from one phrase or exclamation to another. If his tone is "steadier" at the end of this passage, the em dashes seem to show how unsteady he was at the beginning of it. He's not just changing his tack repeatedly, he's doing it because he's agitated.

So, yeah. Austen does some worthwhile things with her preponderance of em dashes in Emma. But for the most part, she was just wilding out.

An ode to em

One of the reasons that I love Jane Austen's work is that she loves an em dash. Just how much does she love an em dash? Behold:

That's right, baby—Emma has 3102 em dashes in it! Not hyphens—this is just the count of true em dashes alone. It's glorious.

Let's all bask in the em dashes in this famous Emma passage:

“The best fruit in England—every body’s favourite—always wholesome.—These the finest beds and finest sorts.—Delightful to gather for one’s self—the only way of really enjoying them.—Morning decidedly the best time—never tired—every sort good—hautboy infinitely superior—no comparison—the others hardly eatable—hautboys very scarce—Chili preferred—white wood finest flavour of all—price of strawberries in London—abundance about Bristol—Maple Grove—cultivation—beds when to be renewed—gardeners thinking exactly different—no general rule—gardeners never to be put out of their way—delicious fruit—only too rich to be eaten much of—inferior to cherries—currants more refreshing—only objection to gathering strawberries the stooping—glaring sun—tired to death—could bear it no longer—must go and sit in the shade.”

31 em dashes in that sequence alone! And that's not even the whole paragraph—there are 9 more em dashes in the rest of the paragraph before that quotation! Iconic.

[respectthepetty]

I really love that Wa and Yotha are good exes to each other now that they are in other relationships fifteen episodes into Perfect 10 Liners. And I love that they keep talking under the "Don't text your ex" sign.

Because even though Wa's relationship with Klao has more than its share of problems, they balance each other out. Klao needs someone to save him from himself, and Wa wants to be a savior.

And Wa couldn't be that person for Yotha. Wa couldn't rescue Yotha all the time. Yotha needed a guy who saw all his darkness and embraced it.

Sometimes a Black Brooder doesn't need to be saved by a Heavenly Human. Sometimes he simply needs a chill Green Guy to remind him that the world isn't such a dark place.

And Yotha found that light in Gun.

Much like Red Rascal Arc realized he could experience happiness every day instead of believing every day was a fight through his love for Yellow Yal Arm.

And Blue Boy Sand and his elite Mean Girls shirt found the perfect guy to understand him in Orange Oddity Pond.

Pond makes him breakfast and leaves little orange notes with daily encouragement.

And Sand loves every second of it!

So it's time for these color-coded boys in love to follow their seniors into domestic bliss, so now that Yotha has apologized for hurting his Green Guy, all is well.

Regardless if Faifa likes it or not.

They could have at least waited until Faifa was pretending to be asleep. The disrespect!

But our pretty Blue Boy still comes out on top after becoming the newest campus star, and he gets a beautiful crown of flowers for it because he deserves nice things.

So while his brothers and brother-in-law are about to go through trails and tribulations, Faifa is just going to be enjoying his win.

And while MY HEART IS BEING RIPPED OUT OF MY BODY, Faifa is going to be celebrating in the bar with his friends.

AND WHEN YOTHA'S HEART IS BEING RIPPED OUT OF HIS BODY AND BEING SMASHED IN FRONT OF HIS FACE, Faifa will be drinking the night away knowing he is the bestest boy on campus.

Narrator: Faifa will, in fact, be very pissed off.

But thank goodness Newton is about that business and decided to bring a gun to a knife fight, so the Jets and Sharks will have to sort out their differences another day.

(These two are so dramatic and constantly remind me that this is a JittiRain series)

But, thankfully, Faifa and his "Where there is love, this is life" shirt exit quickly once he sees everyone is okay and notices that Gun is wearing Yotha's black shirt since he knows that shirt isn't going to stay on long now that Yotha is aware of his feelings.

Gun is pulling a Sally Field right now and is shocked that Yotha actually loves him when all of the signs pointed to Yotha being in love with him, but I love this journey of realization for Gun.

And now Yotha has to negotiate how many cows he is willing to give Gun's family so he can keep him and Gun's dad said he just needed to pay a utility bill every now and then (probably electricity, am I right?), and he can keep his son for life. I love this for them!

BUT I DON'T LOVE THIS! Love does not heal trauma, babes! NO! You are not certified to perform exposure therapy! Don't make Gun cry like this. IT HURTS ME!

*rocking back and forth* I'm going to look at the parents' books about colors and design to calm down. Just leave me here for a second. I'll be fine.

Now this is more like it. Just be there for him when he wakes him. Comfort him. Love him.

Be his sunshine in the darkness.

But do NOT do what you are thinking about doing in his childhood room in his parents' house.

You know what? Actually, go for it! They deserve this.

I have a sister to put to bed anyway.

AYEEE

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

Made myself tear up thinking about Girl Dad Sylus. He'd give his little girls the unconditional love he never had growing up, and (hopefully) in the process heal his inner child 🥹

And additionally...

Sylus' kids will be the first people in his life that'll love him from the very start. Everyone else has at some point wanted to hurt, use, or kill him. Or hated his guts/been disgusted by him 💔 (that part in the main story still wrecks me, his expression is so heartrending, you can so plainly see the devastation on his face. I genuinely think he cried afterwards, when he vanished for a bit. And now I am crying too from thinking about it 💔💔)

But his children will not once in their lives view him with fear, or disgust, or ill intent. Instead, they'll look at him with stars in their eyes from the very moment they begin to be aware of and recognize their surroundings.

Like everyone else, their little hearts will start pounding faster at the mere sight or sound of him. However, not out of terror, but elation, and the purest form of love, their short legs toddling towards him as fast as they can, chubby arms eagerly reaching for him. Not to do him harm, but to give and receive affection. A gesture which Sylus will always reciprocate without a second's hesitation, his strong powerful arms enveloping his babies with a gentleness and care that seemingly belies his imposing exterior, but which in reality is representative of who he is and has always been at his core: A warm and kind person who wears his heart on his sleeve, who loves with everything he's got, and whose soul smells like flowers. A man who despite his wealth and power never trampels on the weak, and who although "it may not look like it" is truly "very good at looking after people". Had society bothered to look beyond his appearance and his reputation, it too would have discovered this. Instead, it chose to cast him as a monster more terrifying than a wanderer, and that is the role Sylus has been more or less forced to play ever since, and how he has been viewed for most of his long life, even initially by the people that are now closest to him.

But never by his children. In their eyes, Sylus won't ever be a fiend nor an infamous criminal — Sylus will always be their Protector. Their Hero.

Their Daddy.

And to someone who has forever been labeled as a villain or a demon, these terms will surely be more precious than all the most valuable gems and stones in the Universe put together.

[vorchagirl]

“Don’t come any closer” for the prompt thing ? For Lucanis and Rook :3

(I love Untouchable btw I always get so excited when I get The AO3 Update Email)

Thank you so much for the prompt! This is a little snippet for Kash & Lucanis (technically Spite) from Untouchable. I hope you like this!

Lies

Kash heard soft footsteps on the rooftop behind her a moment before she scented Lucanis’ aftershave on the wind. Irritation, sweet and sharp, cut through her, and she wiped her eyes and gripped the edge of the roof tighter. The ground was a long way below and she sat on the very edge of the roof, her feet and legs dangling as the Treviso night sky blazed with stars above her.

Up here, it felt as though she was the only person in the world, and her problems felt very far away.

“Don’t come any closer,” she told him wearily. “I said I wanted to be alone and I meant it, Lucanis.”

The footsteps immediately stopped, and she heard a sharp intake of breath. “Not Lucanis,” a gravelly voice replied, his tone carefully neutral as though wary of upsetting her. “Me.”

Spite.

It got her attention, as the demon no doubt knew it would.

“What are you doing here? Is Lucanis okay?’ She turned to look at him, uncaring that she’d been crying for hours and probably looked horrible. A demon wouldn’t care what she looked like. He made a non-committal grumbling sound and moved closer, nimbly swinging down to sit beside her as though invited.

“Lucanis is. Angry at your Talon. And sad.” Spite scooted closer on the ledge, until his shoulder and leg brushed hers. “Worried. Everyone is worried. Rook didn’t come home.”

So they cared enough about her to worry if she vanished, but not enough to tell her truth about who she really was. But then, she thought bitterly, a useful tool was no good if it was misplaced, so of course they cared that she hadn't come home. Fresh tears leaked from her eyes, and the distant view of the ground blurred.

“I needed some time to think.”

The demon faced her, glowing eyes narrowed as he reached out a hand and caught one of her tears on the tip of his finger. “Rook is. Still sad?”

She nodded, her throat tightening all over again at the truth that had been kept from her for so long. At the lie she had built her identity sound. The mockery which she had become. Viago was no more her hero and saviour then she was his. She was just leverage against the Antivan King and the merchant prince families.

Everything she had believed in was a lie.

“I am not Lucanis,” Spite told her softly, and he put an arm around Kash, pulling her close as she began to cry again. “But he regrets. He is sad too.”

“He lied to me!” Kash buried her face against Spite's chest as he flared his wings, wrapping them tightly about her in a comforting cocoon. “They all lied to me!”

He growled softly and shook his head. “Lucanis did not lie. Not his secret. To tell. He wanted to. Your Talon said no. Coward.” Spite tightened his arms around her, and she felt him sniff the air. “I will stay with Rook. Despair is near. Lingers. Waits.”

She couldn't tell whether Spite was making it up to give himself a plausible excuse to stay by her side while she cried, or if he meant it. And she didn't care. The wounds in her heart ached terribly, and despite her earlier words, she didn't want to be alone anymore.

Spite didn't say anything else as she cried, he just tightened his arms around her and lay his cheek on top of her head.

[chaifootsteps]

I think why I can’t stand the fizzozzie morning scene is because fizz is begging to be let out of the house alone, without his man. And fizz was only able to leave mammon behind because asmodeus was a safety net, and was really pushy about him quitting. Then fizz reveals he put up with mammon to be worthy of a sin like Asmodeus because of his disabled form. What the fuck? That is not cute.

If fizz were a female character the misogyny of this, a rich man pressuring a woman to quit her career and belong to him instead, would be quite obvious. And that’s not even getting into calling a disabled person cute or little for not being able to do certain things himself. Don’t ever say “let me guess, I’m handling that too” to a disabled person.

In a way fizz using the cute sweet submissive act to get what he needs (being let outside, keeping mammon happy, making the fans happy), directly mirrors blitz using the tough dominant/sadist act to get what he needs (the grimoire). Both of these personas come more from asmodeus and stolas than them.

I don’t think either of these are what they truly enjoy. Fizz likes to take the initiative, blitz gets flustered being surprised and not having to do all the work (see strikers kabedon scene, fizzs blindfolding, moxxies weird gauntlet scene, and verosika was very dominating too). i guess thats why their chemistry together feels pretty intense.

Thank you for all of this. This is such a good writeup, and I feel like it's especially sad in Fizz and Ozzie's case because they used to be such an equitable ship. They were assholes together, played off one another, and sure Ozzie cradled Fizz when he got hurt, but earlier on, Fizz was the one physically supporting Ozzie by propping him up. I always loved that part.

(And it's true, Blitz and Stolas have never had an ounce of the raw sexual chemistry Blitz had with Fizz during that blindfolding scene. Fizz isn't a sugar baby bottom princess, he's a firecracker top at heart, can't change my mind.)

[zhoumeyourlove]

Interested as always!

My top 3 pairings (i.e. my favorite LIs with my semi-developed self-insert MCs that kinda are me but are also definitely not me...it's complicated okay):

OG High School Story: Xavier Lee x Aiden Zhou

The Cursed Heart: Xavier x Kieran

Blades of Light and Shadow: Xavier Parnassus x Mal Volari x Aerin Valleros

If you have any questions, feel free to send me an anonymous ask! I'm also planning to post dedicated MC profiles for OG HSS and TCH (and mayybeee blades depending on how much time i have) during MC appreciation week as well.

Info under the cut!

Also so sorry for submitting this like one hour before the deadline I've been hyperfocused on my art for the MC appreciation week woops

Xavier & Aiden

i think this image loses pixels every time i take it from one exchange entry to the next lol

Headcanons:

HSS!Xavier is an extremely social introvert - he's the life of the party until his social battery runs out

He's a cat person, and Maria's cat Oreo is practically his BFF. He can't have a cat himself because Scott is allergic, but he loves Paquito the hamster as well.

Other than the main 5 friend group (love interests), he's closest to Myra and Cameron since they were all in band together. The summer after Book 3, he made Cameron a genderqueer-flag-colored friendship bracelet to match their necklace because he likes arts and crafts.

HSS!Xavier is a HUGE K-pop fan. Aiden pretends he doesn't like it, but at this point he's been stockholm-syndromed into liking it. I wrote a fic about it <3

Xavier & Kieran

these two are literally bouncing around in my brain all day long you don't even get it

as seen as my profile picture and banner <3

TCH!Xavier is definitely autistic. Obviously that label isn't applied to him, but if you met him in the modern day, you would know.

He and Kieran work well together because they both hate Fae social events. TCH!Xavier hates them because they're overwhelming - too loud, too bright, too many arbitrary social rules. Kieran hates them because he's just antisocial in general lol

Kieran has enchanted all his clothes so that the textures don't bother him <3

He's hyperempathetic

He has a special interest in medicine, particularly medicinal herbs. As a kid he always followed his mother around and learned from her. One of his favorite parts of living in the Fae Woods is discovering all the new plants there and cataloguing their properties. Post-canon, he becomes an apothecary.

He's very physically affectionate

His favorite animals are rabbits. Whenever he sees one in or around the Moon Court gardens, he sits down to watch it (from afar, so as not to scare it)

Xavier & Mal & Aerin

they are a throuple. To Me. But I would also love anything with just MalMC or AerinMC! Or AerinMal, if you want to go for that.

Headcanons:

They are all so mentally ill. This is canon but I want to emphasize it

Blades!Xavier loves the entire party, but his platonic best friends are Imtura (besties since book 1) and Valax

They all take care of the orphanage together!! Mal is obviously great with them. Blades!Xavier is naturally pretty good with kids as well, but not on Mal's level. Aerin is NOT good with kids at first (he gets slightly less awkward later on, but he's still nervous). He's genuinely confused as to what he's supposed to do with them. He does his best! His best just isn't very good.

Blades!Xavier and Mal get together during Book 1, Blades!Xavier gets with Aerin in Book 2, and Mal and Aerin get together probably towards the end of Book 3 timeline?? Still figuring that out.

They abolish the monarchy, so neither Blades!Xavier nor Aerin are princes they're just Dudes. Mal never stops calling Aerin princeling, though.

Choices Secret Admirer: a Valentine's event

What it is:

Think secret Santa but for Valentine's Day.

Everyone who shows interest in participating will be given a match for whom they should create (or commission) a small work (drabble, art, edit, moodboard, etc)

How to participate:

Reblog this post stating your interest AND include your top 3 books/characters/pairings to help guide your match on what they should create for you. (reblogs that do not include a top 3 will not be considered entries for participation)

or, message me here or at @lovealexhunt stating your interest and include your top picks

Note: When listing your interests, please include any preferred gender/race characteristics you may have for customizable character. If you have FCs you are welcome to list them as well.

If you want to participate but would rather not create for a particular user, feel free to message me privately and if you get that person, I'll re-spin the Wheel of Names should you land on that person.

Deadline to participate: February 1

What comes next:

On, or about, February 2nd, I will message you with your match and what they listed as their top interests. [I use Wheel of Names to match users]

You create something for them based on their interests and post it for them on February 14-16.

You do NOT have to create for all 3 pairings, one is enough. The 3 is to give you a choice for what you're comfortable with!

It would also be really nice if you could include a brief positive message of encouragement and/or support with your creation for your match

Please tag this blog and #ChoicesSecretAdmirer2025 as well so I can keep track of who posted and who is missing.

If you have any questions please do not hesitate to reach out.

[winwintea]

stolen dance

PAIRING ↬ idol!park jisung x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ romance, fluff, they dance a bit, there is totally no angst, i would never lie!

SUMMARY ↬ jisung has been teaching you how to dance lately. but is it really to teach you or is jisung using these dances as a form of escapism to hold onto a deeper secret?

WORD COUNT ↬ 2.8k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ in classic winwintea fashion here is jisung's birthday fic <33 suffer.

PLAYLIST ↬ stolen dance - milky chance; show me the meaning of being lonely - backstreet boys

“Alright, alright, one more time!”

Jisung grins, as he claps his hands and beckons you to step back into the middle of the room.

The living room is bathed in the soft amber glow of a single lamp in the corner, casting warm shadows across the room. The faint hum of a speaker plays an upbeat pop track, its rhythm pulsing like a heartbeat through the air. A pile of mismatched socks and sneakers sits abandoned by the couch, proof of your long evening spent dancing. You groan dramatically, flopping onto the couch instead. “I can’t feel my legs anymore, Jisung. This is basically torture.”

“Nope, no quitting!” he says, darting over and tugging you up by the wrists. His hands are warm, steady, and they pull you effortlessly to your feet. “We’re not done until you can at least try to keep up with me.”

You roll your eyes but smile, letting him guide you into position. “I’m only doing this because you’re making me, you know.”

Jisung smirks. “And because you secretly love it. Admit it, you want to keep up with me on stage one day.”

“Oh, sure,” you laugh, stumbling a little as he begins to guide you through a spin. “Me, a world-class dancer. We’re talking about K-pop standards too. Totally believable.”

“Hey, don’t doubt yourself like that!” Jisung says, catching your hand to stop your wobble. “Besides, I’m a great teacher. You’ll be better than me in no time.”

“Better than you? Let’s not get carried away.”

He steps back, giving you a playful once-over. “Okay, fine, maybe not better. But decent. Maybe passable.”

You swat at his shoulder, which only makes him laugh harder.

The music shifts to a softer beat, and Jisung takes a step closer. “Alright, let’s try that one move again. Step left, then cross. No, your other left—”

You fumble the step, tripping slightly, and Jisung reaches out just in time to steady you. His arm loops around your waist, holding you close for a moment.

“Gotcha,” he says softly, his voice losing its teasing edge for a second.

You look up at him, breathless but grinning. “You know, for someone who claims to be a great teacher, you’re not very patient.”

His lips twitch into a smile. “And for someone who says they hate dancing, you’re not as bad as you think.”

The room feels still for a beat, the music fading into the background. Jisung’s dark eyes linger on yours, something unspoken passing between you. It’s the kind of gaze that makes your heart skip, though you can’t quite place why.

“Anyway!” Jisung suddenly blurts, breaking the moment as he steps back with a sheepish grin. “Let’s try again. I’ll slow it down this time, I promise.”

“Good. My feet are already filing a complaint,” you joke, shaking off the strange flutter in your chest.

He grins, taking your hands in his again, and the music picks up once more. The two of you fall into the rhythm, tripping over each other’s feet and laughing so loudly that it drowns out the sound of the song.

The days start to blur together, each evening spent in the same corner of the living room. The small space becomes your personal dance studio, the furniture pushed against the walls to give you just enough room to practice. Jisung shows up every time with the same excitement, the kind that’s so contagious you can’t help but play along.

“Step, step, and pivot—yes! That’s it!” Jisung exclaims, clapping his hands together as you nail the move for the first time. His grin lights up the room.

You beam, sweat dripping down your face, and collapse onto the floor. “Finally! That only took, what, twenty tries?”

Jisung flops down next to you, still full of energy. “More like thirty, but hey, who’s counting?” He nudges you with his shoulder, handing you a water bottle.

You take a long sip and gasp dramatically. “I didn’t sign up for this boot camp, you know. What happened to ‘just a fun dance session’?”

Jisung leans back on his hands, smirking. “This is fun! Besides, you’re getting so much better. Look at you, two weeks ago, you couldn’t even figure out which foot was your left.”

“Wow, thanks,” you deadpan, though your smile betrays your mock annoyance.

The next night, the routine continues. The two of you move in near-perfect sync as Jisung teaches you a new routine to a faster song. Your steps are cleaner, your turns sharper, and when you finish the sequence without a single mistake, you both cheer so loudly the neighbor downstairs bangs on their ceiling.

“Oops,” you whisper, covering your mouth to stifle your giggles.

Jisung shrugs, unbothered. “Worth it. You nailed that!” He holds up a hand for a high-five, which you give him, laughing at how proud he looks.

But as the days pass, you begin to notice how your progress isn’t the only thing changing.

One evening, as you struggle through a particularly tricky move, Jisung stops mid-step. His gaze drifts off toward the window, his body going still.

“Jisung?” you call, snapping your fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Jisung?”

He blinks, shaking his head quickly. “Sorry, what? Did you say something?”

You frown. “You spaced out. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says with a too-bright smile, waving you off. “Just tired, I guess.” He grabs the remote and cranks up the music. “Come on, let’s run it again.”

You hesitate but decide not to press him.

Later, after another exhausting session, you collapse on the couch, panting. “I’m done. For real this time. My legs are basically jelly.”

Jisung sits beside you, his gaze soft as he watches you. “You’re really doing great, you know.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” you joke, but the sincerity in his voice makes your heart skip.

“I mean it,” he says, his tone quieter now. “I just... I like seeing you like this. Happy. Laughing.”

You glance over at him, and for a moment, he looks... sad, though the expression vanishes almost as quickly as it appeared.

“You okay?” you ask cautiously.

“Of course,” he says, forcing a grin. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re stuck with me, remember?”

“Lucky me,” you tease, but his words stick with you as the night goes on.

The dance sessions grow more frequent, his enthusiasm almost desperate. Every moment feels heavier, though you can’t quite figure out why. You catch him watching you sometimes, his smile softer, as though he’s trying to memorize the way you move, the sound of your laugh.

“What?” you ask one night when his eyes linger too long.

“Nothing,” he says quickly, spinning you around before you can press further. “Just... don’t stop dancing, okay?”

You laugh, brushing it off, but there’s something in his voice that makes you wonder what he’s not telling you.

The music echoes softly through the living room as you and Jisung move together, your steps slightly out of sync but improving with each pass. The rhythm feels effortless now, the usual fumbling replaced by a newfound fluidity. You’re laughing, breathless but exhilarated, when the sharp buzz of Jisung’s phone cuts through the song.

It vibrates insistently on the counter, the screen lighting up in the dim room.

“Hold on,” Jisung mutters, his usual smile faltering as he jogs over to check it. He picks up the phone and stares at the screen, his expression shifting to something unreadable.

You wipe your forehead with the hem of your shirt, catching your breath. “What is it?” you ask, noticing the way he hesitates.

Jisung’s thumb hovers over the screen, and for a moment, he doesn’t answer. Then, in a voice that’s a little too casual, he says, “It’s nothing. Just a friend checking in.”

You tilt your head, unconvinced. “Must be a pretty intense message to make you zone out like that.”

He glances at you quickly, forcing a small smile. “It’s not important. I’ll deal with it later. Come on, let’s not lose our momentum.” He sets the phone back down, face down this time, and crosses the room toward you.

Before you can say anything, he reaches for your hands and pulls you into a hug. It’s sudden, uncharacteristic, and tight. Tighter than his usual playful embraces. You blink, caught off guard.

“Uh, Jisung? You good?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he buries his face against your shoulder, his grip unyielding. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft, almost fragile. “I’m just... really proud of you, you know? You’ve worked so hard.”

The hug lasts longer than it should, and something in his tone feels off. You try to pull back slightly to look at him, but he only holds on tighter.

“Jisung, what’s going on?”

He shakes his head against your shoulder and releases you just as abruptly as he hugged you. “Nothing. Seriously. Don’t worry about it.” His smile is back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Now, come on. Let’s run through it again. You were so close to getting it perfect!”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you press, still watching him carefully.

“Of course I am,” he says quickly, bouncing on his toes to reset the mood. “Now, less talking, more dancing!”

You hesitate but eventually let it go, letting him take your hand and spin you back into position. Yet, as the music starts up again, you can’t shake the nagging feeling that there’s more to the text than he’s letting on.

On the counter, Jisung’s phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up briefly before going dark. The message still sits there: "You ready to see her?"

The rhythmic click of Jisung’s shoes echoes down the hospital hallway, a stark contrast to the sterile silence that surrounds him. His hands are stuffed into his jacket pockets, clenched tightly as if to keep himself from shaking. The confidence and playfulness that had defined him earlier in the living room are gone, replaced by a hollow, heavy weight in his chest.

He pauses outside the door to a room, staring at the small plaque on the wall with your name printed neatly on it. His heart hammers in his chest as he exhales shakily, steeling himself before finally pushing the door open.

The fluorescent lights overhead hum faintly, casting an unforgiving brightness across the room. Machines beep softly, their rhythm steady and monotonous. And there you are. Completely motionless in the hospital bed, your face pale, your body almost swallowed by the thin blankets. Tubes and wires tether you to the machines keeping you stable, their presence stark and invasive.

Jisung freezes in the doorway, the sight of you knocking the air from his lungs.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice cracking. He steps closer, his movements hesitant and unsteady. The sound of the door clicking shut behind him feels deafening.

He lowers himself into the chair by your bedside, his trembling hands reaching for yours. Your skin is cold, unmoving, and his grip tightens instinctively, as though holding on to you will keep you from slipping further away.

“I’m here,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I’m here, so… you can wake up now, okay?”

The only response is the steady beep of the heart monitor.

Jisung leans forward, pressing his forehead against the back of your hand. His shoulders begin to shake as tears spill over, falling silently onto the thin hospital sheet.

“You know,” he chokes out, his voice thick with emotion, “I taught you how to dance. I mean, not perfectly, but we were getting there. You were laughing so much, and—” He stops, his breath hitching as the reality of his words catches up to him.

Because it wasn’t real.

The living room, the music, the laughter— it was all in his head. His imagination, his desperate mind, had conjured you up to fill the unbearable silence you’d left behind.

“I just…” His voice cracks again as he squeezes your hand. “I just wanted to see you smile. To hear you laugh. Even if it wasn’t real.”

The weight of the truth crashes down on him, suffocating and relentless. His mind replays every moment of the past few weeks—the way he had clung to the image of you, teaching you to dance, pretending everything was okay.

His tears flow freely now, soaking into the fabric of your blanket as he clutches your hand like a lifeline. The room feels unbearably quiet, the sound of the machines and his muffled cries the only noises breaking the stillness.

He sits there for what feels like hours, talking to you about everything and nothing—how much he misses you, how much he needs you to come back.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice raw, “don’t let this be the end. 

But you don’t move. Not yet. And Jisung can only sit there, crumbling under the weight of his grief, as reality continues to sink its claws into him.

“I thought…” His voice cracks, and he pauses, choking back a sob. He grips your hand tighter, as if that alone could anchor him in this unbearable moment. “I thought I could bring you back. Even if it wasn’t real—” His words catch in his throat, and he pulls his hands to his face, muffling the anguished cry that escapes him.

Tears stream down his face as he looks back at you, his expression one of complete devastation. “It felt real,” he whispers, his voice raw and broken. “You were laughing. You were dancing. It was like… like you were still here with me.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, pressing his forehead against your hand as he begins to unravel completely. “I just wanted one more dance with you,” he says, the words slipping out in a strangled sob.

The silence in the room presses against him, suffocating and unrelenting. His shoulders shake as he cries, the weight of the last few weeks crashing down on him all at once.

“I don’t know what to do without you,” he confesses, his voice thick with grief. “You were the one who kept me grounded. When everything felt too hard, you… you were my anchor. You gave me a reason to keep going.”

He lifts his head slightly, his tear-streaked face staring at your still form. “And now…” His voice falters, his lips trembling as he struggles to find the words. “Now I don’t even know who I am without you.”

His gaze drops to your hand in his, his fingers tracing over yours with a tenderness that breaks his heart all over again. “Dancing with you, even in my head… it kept me going. It made me feel like maybe… maybe you were still with me.”

He swallows hard, the lump in his throat refusing to go away. “But they stole it from us,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “They stole our dance.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and final, as Jisung lets out another ragged sob. His grief pours out of him uncontrollably, raw and unfiltered, as he buries his face in his hands.

The walls of the hospital room seem to close in around him, the sterile brightness only amplifying the darkness he feels inside. He leans forward, pressing his lips gently to the back of your hand, his tears falling onto your skin.

“Please,” he begs, his voice breaking. “Please come back to me. I don’t care how long it takes. Just… come back.”

His words are met with the same unyielding stillness, the heart monitor’s steady rhythm the only response. And so he sits there, broken and lost, holding on to you as tightly as he can, afraid to let go of the only piece of you he has left.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” he whispers, his voice hoarse from crying. He looks down at your hand, his tear-filled eyes blurring the sight of your still fingers. “I want to believe you’ll wake up, but… what if you don’t?”

The question lingers in the air, heavy and suffocating. He lets his head fall forward, his forehead pressing against your hand as his shoulders slump in defeat. “I’m so scared,” he murmurs, barely audible. “Scared that I’ve already lost you.”

For a moment, the only sound is the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

And then it happens.

A faint movement—so subtle he almost misses it.

Your fingers twitch beneath his.

Jisung freezes, his breath catching in his throat. His head snaps up, his wide, tear-streaked eyes darting to your hand. “Y/N?” he whispers, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and disbelief.

He watches, his heart pounding in his chest, as your fingers twitch again—just the slightest motion, but enough to send a jolt through his entire body.

“Y/N!” he says again, louder this time, his grip tightening around your hand. He leans forward, his eyes darting between your hand and your face, searching desperately for any other sign of movement.

The heart monitor continues its steady rhythm, the faint beeping echoing in the room as the scene begins to fade.

“Please,” he whispers one last time, his voice breaking. “Please come back to me.”

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[shurup-overt]

don't ever let go of what's beloved

these bastards made me cry! THRICE!!

@mari-lair I wanna thank you from the bottom of my heart, also this will be LONG. I'm sorry skdjkls

SPOILERS UP TO CH27 BELOW

(not super detailed but still can ruin the experience)

I'VE FINALLY read ycit after half a year of putting it off it just because I "didn't like the idea of akane being dead&doomed" skslsks I was wayy too superstitious. anyway I'm glad I stopped being stubborn

IT WAS HELL OF A RIDE (positive) and I finished it (27 chapters at that moment) looking like nene in ch107

I'm not even joking

where do I even begin.

the amount of research and thought and love poured into the fic is INSANE. it's always so nice to feel the author's passion through the work and this one overflows with it.

am I being too sappy? I dunno, I speak what's on my mind lol!!

as I said, it's noticeable that it's written with so so much love to the characters and this love is INFECTIOUS!! I didn't know I'd get attached to aka, so fast too. it's like my thought process was almost the same as teru's all the way through chapters 0-20 lmaoo

a small digression from the main topic - the thing is, what I wait for the most in tbhk is a flashback about terukane's first meeting & how the glasses were made. ofc there's always a possibility they were made by teru just for fun and as a way to make akane owe him (although this might be ooc) but the possibility of it is thankfully really really small because teru looks at them and handles the topic very gently. too gently for it to be just a forced prank. also akane has been keeping them with him on his bead near his head while sleeping (not even the bedside table or smth! who the hell keeps their glasses with them on the bed at night?? <- comes from a glasses person)

so, especially because of teru's wording ("he said he wanted to live his life like he used to"), I've been STRESSING over the possibility of akane BEGGING teru for help there, like what if he was struggling with switching forms at first and hence wasn't seen by students? what if the clock keepers didn't explain him almost anything about the supernatural world and so he was scared and confused? what if teru cornered him there and he had to prove he's human? (by the warmth of a touch?) what if he cried? what if teru comforted him? (or tried to lol) what if there were more struggles??

and so I was soo glad to see this topic being expanded!! I know it's an au and all (and the contract's gone worse here) but what I mean is, I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks about it!! reading akane's backstory was Painful As Heck but really Good.

my godd I wish the boy had some comfort. I can't look at ycit akane because I start tearing up immediately.

"I hope akane managed to use the bill" "I hope the seals helped at least a bit" I HOPE SO TOO. JESUS. THE POOR BOY WAS LEFT ALL ALONE WITH A TERRIFYING KNOWLEDGE AND THE TWO DIDN'T EVEN SAY GOODBYE TO EACH OTHER PROPERLY

and his backstory hasn't even been fully revealed yet. I feel like I'll die when that time comes. shaking

alright I don't wanna whine here too much now moving on-

this idiot. /affectionate

the attention to the smallest details!!!!

the amount of canon things implemented?? HELLO? I mean it's natural to expect a canon character act according to canon but it's the first time (I think??) I've noticed SO MUCH small facts THOUGHT THROUGH and carefully weaven into the fic to fit the narrative perfectly. sometimes they're really small and almost insignificant but it's like finding easter eggs!!! it fills me with so much joy to feel the love to the kids through the writing (I repeat it again ahahaha). teru's complicated (VERY MUCH SO) feelings towards his father, akane liking raspberry sweets, akane (and aka) liking when pride of a certain someone ( ^^ ) shatters in front of them and their facade falls, teru itching to jump headfirst into research as soon as there's a reason to mess with exorcist tools and invent something (oh I so adore this in canon I can probably ramble about this a lot), teru being eager to play in the snow, teru covering his face when he cries!!!! and that's just the things I remember right now THERE WAS A LOT MORE

it all makes me point at the screen with an "AH!!" expression and think "YES THAT'S MY BOY/GIRL!!"

YAKO AND TSUCHIGOMORI TOO!! I was so glad to see yako being involved so much and her character handled perfectly with all her traits and quirks and sillyness /affectionate hehe I love her so much and although tsuchigomori hasn't showed up as much, reading the scenes with him was a delight as well

also when I said about the passion, I meant not only the love to the fic's main cast, but also the passion to analyze the og medium itself as a whole. (am I making sense? I don't want to sound too creepy) explaining myself: take aka: his character, his quirks, his abilities, his drama, worries and experiences - for it all to be as deep and believable ( = excellent) as it is, it was necessary to take all the smallest bits about ghosts' and supernaturals' mindset we have in canon, be it hanako or sousuke or mitsuba etc, analyze it, and make aka one of their kind but still very much unique and closer to akane than to them, even though he doesn't remember being him. even if you didn't do what I said entirely on purpose, I'm just amazed by how aka is written. it's awesome

squeezes him.

thank you for being the extremely stubborn "leech" you are. mwah

aidairo sadly have given us very little info about exorcism and supernaturals in general (I'm biting the table as we speak) and the way you still took the crumbs, thought them through, added bits here and there, and made it all work perfectly is just amazing. I was overjoyed to read about mimics, other kinds of supernaturals, how spiritual energy feels, how touching a ghost feels in detail, weakening seals, blood pacts, boundaries, etc etc. it's like it's all canon, it doesn't make the reader question it whatsoever, so well-made. I'm clapping.

the description says you've never written a teru pov before and I'd say you nailed it from the very beginning!! you understand his mindset so deeply, reading your works is the best experience. the picky bitch in my ear never goes "he would not say that" and instead is just as amazed as I am

the first chapters before the bonding are HEAVY as heck. they're extremely hard to binge read but I mean this as a good thing. they're extremely painful by just how realistically they are written, so good you can't help but sync with teru and feel the same emotions as he does. And his life is SHIT at that moment so I was SUFFERING with him both the first and the second going through the chapters :'D again though, it's not bad, it's the opposite - it makes the happy moments thrice as good and the overall bonding brings A LOT of warmth. I feel like it healed me in a way after punching me in the stomach 10 chapters in a row

also I love it so much just how much the fic focuses on teru's everyday life before the manga's main plot. I mean, well yeah, it's a 14-15yo teru pov, but still. so detailed, filled me with warmth.

*slaps roof of ycit* this bad boy can fit SO MANY fun ideas and good concepts in it

seriously, the range is insane. a questionnaire, a quarrel (multiple), siblings talk, beach episode, dancing, hugging, both crying, possession?? hello?? BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! summer festival, sleeping on the other, fighting for the other, fighting together, even working in food service together (aka the thing I'd expect out of a trkn fic the least lol). the list goes on. and despite how bizarre and random it sounds out of context, nothing from it feels like a filler, everything fits into the plot perfectly. I have no words mari how are you doing that

ever since I've read the bloodpact chapter, I was worried about how encounters with mimics will go from now on because now aka can go anywhere and, how it was stated before, aka's and a mimic's energy feel the same… the boys will need to come up with a strategy of some sort (which is tricky if mimics learn from the memories) ourghh makes my head hurt! but in a good way. or will mimics struggle picking a target between aka and teru now? what if they're weaker when faced by multiple opponents because of that? that would be fortunate. anyway! mimics leap at the target eventually, so that eases the task. and whether the boys encounter them or not, they will have each other's backs, and it warms my heart.

I've wanderend off the main topic again, oops. as you see, the fic made me think of all sorts of things lol and it's an incredibly good sign.

what if teru did take a picture of the swing set in ch13…..... ourghh I don't even know if it'd be better or worse...... it's over now though, so I'm glad either way

and ch27 has destroyed and rebuilt me several times I think .

I drew this before ch28 but then it came out and oh boy. I don't even know what to say. Good for them. so proud of them

I HAD SEVERAL SONGS FOR THIS but I don't want to make this too overwhelming so I've tried to pick the faves among faves (still kind of failed so . no pressure)

Bullet by Saint Motel (lyrics) for teruaka

The Song with Five Names a.k.a. Soapbox Tao a.k.a. Checkmate Atheists! a.k.a. Neospace Government (A.K.A. You Can Never Know) by Will Wood and the Tapeworms (lyrics) for aka - this one may be too extreme. it kinda clicked for me but I might be delusional

quiet room by ewe (has eng subtitles) for teruaka - makes me feel things similar to the ones 'therefore you and me' does

Yakusoku no Overture by Toki Shunichi (akane's VA hehe) - I haven't found a full version of this arrangement on youtube but it should be on spotify? or other streaming platforms I'm pretty sure? sadly, I've only found a russian translation (as unusual as it is lol) so I've tried to adapt it in english here, hope it looks right!

I might be delusional here sdslkds but what's certain is that I enjoyed the fic all the way from the start. thank you for creating this, truly

p.s.: please let me know if I made you in any way uncomfortable. I myself didn't expect to write so much; I only wanted to express my gratitude but this might be overwhelming. (I'm a very anxious person so I felt like I needed to say this sdskldj) you aren't obliged to respond in any way and this isn't me asking you to continue working on the fic. just saying thank you for the things you've made

that's it! wishing you a great day :)