#for over a year I loved the old designs and then all of a sudden while drawing the next part of MMV I absolutely disliked them

[merakimagic]

Multi Mutant Verse AU, Donnie & Leo New Designs

Don’t you hate it when you love a design for about a year and then suddenly hate it so you have to completely re-design your characters

I currently don’t have any plans to change Mikeys design and I might update Raphs a little but I’m still unsure. These were the big changes being made

Old Designs

[silkentine]

Wha--?! Silk finally finished her fem Zoro design after (checks notes) literally 6 months since she made the canvas in procreate?

I'll break down design thoughts and share some fun bonus pics under the cut:

I LOVE long hair on Zoro, I think that was the first change I wanted to implement. Zoro in canon actually has a really interesting relationship with gender dynamics which (if for some reason you're reading this and you haven't watched One Piece) can seem out of left field for the "dumb brute" character. His rivalry with and reverence for Kuina suggests he doesn't adhere to the idea that women are weaker than men. Later on, however, during his confrontation with Monet and Tashigi during Punk Hazard, his hesitation to slash her down reveals that he's subconsciously over-protective of women because he thinks they're inherently weaker. I actually don't have any problem with this character trait, I think it makes him feel more real as a person and he obviously gets shit-talked enough about it in the story itself. But how did I want to reflect these beliefs if Zoro had been born a woman? Easy: internalized misogyny and applying value to herself via her appearance.

My version of Zoro grew up wanting to fight with swords but her only chance of entering the dojo was to work under the proprietress, Lady Shimotsuki to maintain the property, cook meals for the male students, and eventually be a good wife to the current heir, Kuina. She learns that, to get what she wants, she must be the ideal woman, even if she stays up all night training swordsmanship with Kuina when she isn't supposed to. He treats her love for swordplay seriously and treats her like an equal, which sparks a bond between them and eventually leads to Zoro's goal of becoming the world's greatest swordsman after his sudden, accidental death.

After years of intense training (now that Lady Shimotsuki admits that she'll need a new heir and Zoro is the closest thing she has) Zoro's finally old enough to leave and begin her journey. She starts letting go of the idea that she has to look pulled together to be taken seriously because she can just kill anyone who looks down on her. Her clothing falls into disrepair, she wears outfits that help her move in combat, and she starts tossing her hair up into messy, knotted buns under her bandana. Even so, she keeps her hair long like rolling hills of grass. (At least during pre-timeskip. She lops off her hair to prove to Mihawk that she's serious about being trained.)

I've put her in a thin sweater that she stitches (poorly) back together after her first interaction with Mihawk. (I kept one sleeve because I was inspired by the santoryuu Nami that Oda drew that one time.) I also wanted to girl-ify the ubiquitous haramaki so I picked leg warmers for her because I think they're sufficiently "dated" enough to be kinda analogous with his old man belly warmer. I also love gyaru fashion, sue me.

Here is a screenshot of her as a blonde:

And here is a sketch of her post-timeskip where she's fully embraced her butch nature:

Hubba hubba, am I right?

Check out my tag "girl piece original design" to see more of my genderbending art! Next post, I'll put all my East Blue Crew designs together! I can't believe it's taken this long but I AM SO HAPPPPPYYYYY

[gghostwriter]

Out of Sunshine

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Having forgotten your dinner date, Spencer comforts his usually sunshine girlfriend Trope:Fluff & Comfort w.c: 1.2k a/n: been very overwhelmed with responsibilities and wants lately that I just needed to write a self-indulgent fic. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

Spencer’s knock on your apartment door was met with silence. It was a starry Friday night and he had arranged a dinner reservation with you, his girlfriend for a year and a half, to the newly opened French restaurant along the main street. With a certain spring in his step, he settled with Hotch, and by extension the team, that he couldn’t be disturbed unless an emergency case comes in—something he silently wished not to happen. He had also picked up a bouquet of your favorites from the local florist. An array of whites that reminded him of the dress he first saw you wearing at the park.

He knocked again, ears straining to hear anything behind the dark wooden door. There was nothing. He balanced the bouquet on one hand and reached for the phone inside his satchel. It was quite unlike you to not answer the door.

The number you dialed is either unattended—

“Strange,” he muttered under his breath. During his morning phone call with you, a much needed routine to tide him through the macabre of his job, you sounded so excited about the dinner he’d planned and had even promised to wear the same white dress that had plagued his eidetic memory. He chuckled in reply before asking any plans for the day. There was a slight pause on your end, no doubt thinking of ways to pass time before night winds down, and you answer—

The studio, he remembered. You mentioned passing by your art studio to occupy time. He sighed in relief as he enters his vintage blue car parked on the the sidewalk, bouquet placed securely on the passenger seat. The clock on the dashboard tells him there’s still time to make it to the reservation, granted he wasn’t sure if you were ready to go.

A non-descriptive tune played from the radio as he turned left to enter the designated parking space of your studio building. It was a mixture of soft piano keys that sounded like spring and sunshine, both adjectives he loved to use to describe you.

When he finally found the courage to fumble his way in asking for your number, the smile that flashed on your face was blinding. It was as if he stared directly into the sun with little to no protection for his vision.

Over the course of multiple dates, he found himself waxing prose about you in his head. The pinking of your cheeks reminded him of strawberries ripening, so tempting to touch with his own pair of lips. The twinkle in your eyes, full of adoration and trust, made him feel strong and protective—like he was some kind of crow guarding his loot of sparkling treasure. And the bounce in your step wherever you’d go had him envisioning a sprig of wildflowers growing from each footprint, the nymph of his very own Spring.

He let himself in the studio, grateful you’ve trusted him with a spare key. “Sunshine,” he called out.

The light inside the four cornered room was on, windows all open for the paint fumes to escape, and there you were, hunched over an easel, furiously painting without any care of your surroundings.

He called your name, softer this time, as if to slowly ease you out of the artistic trance. The timber of his voice and his sudden presence led you to squeak in surprise, paintbrush dropping on the wooden streaked floor.

“It’s me, sunshine,” he raised his hands in front of him in surrender. “It’s me.”

Your nose scrunched up in question, a streak of blue dried paint on your cheek, adorable. How adorable you were in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you bent down to grab the brush before resuming your old position.

“It’s 7:50, love.”

You swiveled to face him, eyes wide in distress. Hands promptly reaching to turn over the faced down phone. “No, no—oh my god, I am so sorry!”

“It’s alright,” he tries to placate you but his words of comfort seem to fall on deaf ears. “Really, it’s alright. It happens to everyone.”

Tears were starting to build up in your eyes. Your hands were wrangling with the apron tied around your waist as you mutter a series of apologies again and again. “I’m sorry. So sorry—we can’t make it to our reservation now, can’t we? Spence, I’m so so sorry. I—I forgot,” a sob escaped from your throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

He puts down the flowers on the nearest available space, your stool, and steps into your space. Filling it with his perfume and warmth meant to comfort you. He could see how distressed you were—rocking on your heels, hands unable to stay put, and lower lip sandwiched in between your pearly teeth.

“Breathe. It’s completely fine, love. No harm done. Really, it’s alright.”

The tears come rushing down, staining your flushed cheeks with its tracks. “It’s not—how could I forget?”

“Sunshine, it’s okay. It happens to all of us and I know you’re quite busy, it’s understandable.”

You burrow into his chest some more, afraid of separating from him and the haven he brings.

He continued on. “I also know you’re overwhelmed, the exhibit is just around the corner and I know how important it is to you, I understand.”

Laying your cheek near his beating heart, you mutter a reply. “It’s really not—I don’t want you to think you’re not important to me too.”

His hands cupped your face to stare into your saddened eyes. Spencer couldn’t see the warmth and brightness that was always present in his sunshine. There was a cloud of rain and doubt covering its’ greatness. He understood no one could always be happy all the time but it bothered him to see you breaking down from stress.

“Shouldn’t I be the one worried about that?” he lightly joked. “I’ve cancelled on dates so many times and did those ever make you feel less important to me?”

“No. Never,” you sniffled.

“Then what makes you say I’d think that, sunshine? I would never, I promise.”

The corners of your lips lifted up to a small smile. There it was, the rays of sun peeking behind the clouds, bringing warmth back to the dark crevices of his being.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” your lower lip jutting out in a pout. The air of anxiety slowly dissipating around you.

Spencer laughed, noting the tear stained marks littered on his purple button down. “That’s alright. Why don’t we order from your favorite Indian place down the block? We can get your favorites and have our dinner date here instead?”

“You’d be okay with that?”

He leaned in to kiss your temples, taking in the twinkle back in your eyes framed by your wet long lashes and the flush on your cheeks from emotion—good and bad.

For Spencer, you had never looked more beautiful. The reason behind of your breakdown was raw, intimate, and it made him see you in a new light. Heat bloomed in his chest, like a series of red roses, filled with love for you.

“Anywhere with you is good for me, sunshine.”

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[jj-one]

9:20 AM.

Jungkook (your boyfriend) knew exactly how to make you feel good, only he knew how to please your body.

pairing: bf!Jungkook x gf!reader genre/tags: smut, fluff, teasing, dom!jungkook x sub!reader, marking, jungkook has a tongue piercing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), mentions of crying (from pleasure), female orgasm words: 1.2k

**old repost from my deleted blog

You were excited for your boyfriend to come back home from his morning jog. You woke up after he did and he left the cutest little handwritten note on the refrigerator. It said on the note that he went out for his morning jog and is heading to the market after to pick a few things up for tonight’s dinner. You smile at his note and thought it was so sweet how he could’ve just sent a simple text but wanted to go the extra mile by handwriting a note for you. Deciding to do your own thing while he’s gone, you pick a romantic comedy movie to watch on Netflix to pass the time. Patiently waiting for Jungkook to arrive back home, you heard the door suddenly unlock and hurry to get up to go leave out of your room.

“JUNGKOOK!” You shout eagerly, almost pouncing on him once he gets through the door.

“Y/n, my baby girl,” He greets you back with a doting smile, wrapping his arms around your waist, encasing himself into you.

You wasted no time to start kissing him, immediately going in to grab his pretty face with both of your hands, crashing your lips into his. He must’ve been thinking about doing this all day because once you two start making out, he carries you straight into both of your guy’s bedroom and places you gently onto the bed.

Jungkook knew exactly how to make you feel good, only he knew how to please your body. He’d begin by peppering your jaw and neck with a plethora of kisses, leaving a faint trail of hickies behind. He’d also be rubbing your inner thigh with his large hands that always turn you on every time you look at them. The prominent veins on his hands and arms when he flexes just a teensy bit is enough to make you cum in your panties.

“I love you so much,” Jungkook murmurs against your skin, still kissing and sucking on your neck as if he’s a vampire.

“Love you too koo— fuck…” Your response was interrupted by what he was doing to you next. Jungkook’s tattooed hand makes its way down to the tight shorts you were wearing. The shorts were pink and had a cute hello kitty design on them, Jungkook was the one who bought them for you actually. He’s always loved seeing you in the clothes he bought for you over the years, acting like a little kid on Christmas.

Jungkook is rubbing you over your shorts and the friction is driving you absolutely insane. You can just feel how wet you’re becoming, the juices from your heat start to overflow; seeping through your panties and he feels you throbbing on his fingers. He’s got a sinister look on his face and you already know that means you’re in for something amazing to make your morning.

“Sheesh baby, look how wet your pussy’s getting…” Jungkook looks in awe, hissing at the sight of a giant wet spot forming in your panties after he took off your tight skimpy shorts.

Jungkook begins caressing, kissing, and licking your lower body, touching every curve and crevice of you, not missing a single spot. His touch is so gentle, so warm, so inviting. His tongue rolls along the inside of your thigh, the steel metal of his tongue piercing feels cold but the sensation tingles down your spine. Flinching from the action he performed, he notices straight away, eyebrows raised in a sudden stir of confusion.

“You okay baby?” He asks softly before continuing, wanting to make sure nothing he did hurt you.

“Y-yes, just feeling a little sensitive that’s all…” You say quietly.

You feel him smile against your soft flesh, planting more wet kisses against yours thighs and laid his head there for a while to feel your warmth.

“I could be like this all day y’know?” He basks in your presence, speaking in a mumbled tone, half his face still buried in your thighs.

“I know koo.”

Jungkook raises his head a tiny bit just to face your clothed pussy again. He couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot, bringing his face—specifically his nose, closer to you to get a whiff of your sweet aroma. He practically buries his nose into your panties and drags it down your slit.

“You smell so good..” He was intoxicated by your scent, loving the natural, but fragrant essence.

He licks a stripe to your clothed core, making you moan out loud and bring your hand to latch onto his fluffy hair. You love to play with it and make it a mess of his hair after he’s done giving you the best head of your life.

“You taste really good too babe,” Jungkook couldn’t get enough of you, he was literally drunk off your pussy.

You were so desperate for him to take your panties off as you were starting to make more of a sticky mess in them but he seemed to be enjoying it more that way. He wanted to prolong the action of coming into contact with your bare pussy. He wanted to tease you so much until you were begging for him to touch your clit. You wanted nothing but his tongue against your wet folds right now.

“J-jungkook…” You mutter so lowly, he almost couldn’t hear you.

“Hmm, what’s my name baby?” He asks while still teasing your entrance, now sliding one of his fingers inside your floral panties.

“Jungkook!” You moan louder this time, feeling somewhat better that you’re almost getting to where you want to be.

“Want you to scream my name for hours, can you do that for me babydoll?” He asks in a serious tone, pushing his finger in and out of your soaked cunt.

You nod submissively, “o-okay daddy..” arching your back against the bed from the amazing feeling, Jungkook knows exactly how to use his fingers on you.

He kept fingering you harder and deeper until you look him in the eyes and visibly start to tear up from all the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s so good but so unbearable at the same time. He made you feel like you were in heaven, crying out his name, just saying “Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook” on repeat whilst he’s finger fucking you. He’s scissoring your tight hole from the inside out and your juices were now running so far down your legs. You were super close to your orgasm and he could tell by the contorted face you were making.

“Jungkook… Jungkook.. fuck I’m gonna cum!” You scream for him, eyes rolling to the back of your head and your vision was going insanely blurry.

“Yeah baby that’s it, just relax…cum for daddy,” Jungkook coaxes you through it, encouraging you to reach your high but still adding slight pressure to your clit. You couldn’t take it anymore, just letting go and being in eternal bliss as you reached your climax. You moaned his name a couple more times and he called you his good girl for cumming when he told you to. You went back to making out and he was now massaging your boobs.

“You’re really horny today, huh?” You ask Jungkook, stifling a giggle at his overly naughty behavior.

“The real question should be when am I not horny whenever I’m with you y/n..” Jungkook shamelessly admits, grabbing your face once again to kiss you harder.

At least you can say you don’t have issues with satisfying your man in the bedroom !

[rayveneyed]

cw; suggestive / softcore smut, alcohol consumption (possibly dubcon), inappropriate workplace relationships, cisfem!reader

nanami kento is too old for fucking.

he tells you this at 1 am — in not quite as many words — a few too many somaeks in, lethargic and slow from the length of the workday. there’s enough alcohol in his system to have him silk-loose and soft, cursing more freely and allowing vulgarity (or what he considers vulgarity) to grace his ever-so-polite tongue.

you’ve never heard him like this before; you’ve never heard your straight laced coworker utter anything more than a family-friendly expletive (drat being a recurring character — old-fashioned, but endearing). but his shirt is unbuttoned at the collar and his hair is mussed, and the blush of intoxication is rising to his sharp cheekbones — and yes, he curses. it almost sounds elegant when he does it. rolling over his tongue in his poorly-lit living room, where he’d only bothered to turn one lamp on; gathering with his voice like balls of cotton wool deep in his chest.

you yourself have had one too many drinks — that is why you find warmth pooling in your stomach at the sound of his confession, at the sight of his face illuminated in honey-soft light. after all, you’d never let the barrier of strained, charged professionalism drop otherwise. you’d never accept kento’s sudden invite for a nightcap after a night already filled with drinking, surrounded by tipsy coworkers at a local izakaya; you’d never let him help you slip your heels off, deft fingers unbuckling the strap from your ankle and lingering just long enough for you to notice. you’d surely never sit so close to him on his fancy 1.5 million yen couch — and you’d never, ever entertain the comment he’d made, one that he never intended for you to hear in the first place.

“what was that?” you say, coy, as if the comment hadn’t twisted something horrid in your gut. (as if you weren’t imagining him flushed from top to bottom, panting against your neck. it’s the alcohol, you’re sure of it.) “you’re too old for all that crazy stuff? like what?”

his adam’s apple bobs. he’s sitting slumped low next to you, his head hanging backwards against the back of the couch and his gaze somewhere on the high ceilings above your head, like he can’t face you. pretty. handsome. “sorry. i was just thinking out loud.”

“i know.” you take a sip of your own somaek. “but we’re both adults here, right? i mean, i agree. i’m not as flexible as i was at 20.”

his laugh is more of a surprised huff — like he’s just as surprised as you are that your conversation has steered into such uncharted territory. perhaps he’s surprised that he’s even responding to it — but he does, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. his thigh presses against yours through those infernal khaki slacks. “mm. me neither.”

you shoot him a cheeky grin. “you were getting folded like a pretzel, i presume?”

another laugh, tinged with incredulity this time. “mm. something like that.”

you both sit in silence for a moment. his apartment really is lovely — the kind of apartment you only get when you’re as diligent as nanami, putting aside money for years and steadily working his way up the hierarchal corporate ladder. high ceilings and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows opposite his couch; a kitchen with a granite island; fancy furniture straight from an interior designer’s wet dream. it’s all neutral greys and browns, cozy and elegant and refined, and suddenly you wonder what his bedroom looks like. you take another sip of your drink.

“getting older’s not all that bad,” you say, almost offhandedly, speaking more to the tokyo skyline than your drinking companion. (you bet he has a double-king with fancy 500-count cotton bedsheets. probably some trinkets. man stuff like shavers and cuff links and aftershave.) “i like it slow anyways.”

a strange, choked sound leaves your drinking partner, and your eyes shoot over to him. you’re suddenly mortified at your careless blabbering — but drunk enough for your embarrassment to be eclipsed by a prideful ignorance. “huh? nanami-san, are you okay?”

he stares up at the ceiling once more. his throat bobs again. a slight blush has dusted the tops of his ears — but before you can linger in it, his eyes suddenly flicker to meet yours. you’re almost taken aback by it — the intensity with which his brown eyes suddenly bore into you, the sullenness and modesty from before pushed aside for something newer. something rawer. “…forgive me for my forwardness—”

“you’re forgiven.”

“—but, i…”

you swallow. he still hasn’t looked away. your breathing has stilted, stagnant and pressing, in your lungs. you fight the urge to press against the point where his thigh meets your own, already on the verge of squirming under his heady stare. “but…?”

straight-laced nanami kento breathes deeply, his chest moving with the force of it, and as his breath shudders out of him, he bites out: “i really want you, right now.”

your heartbeat rushes in your ears.

“but we’re coworkers,” kento continues, like he’s been sitting on it for a while — like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. his hand — the one not clutching his glass, the one laying on top of his thigh, flexes. “it’s unprofessional — completely inappropriate. i should be written up for simply confessing this to you.”

“but we—” you swallow around a dry throat — all moisture in your body seemingly gathering between your legs, hot and thrumming and nowhere to go— “we’re not working right now.”

a beat of silence.

kento finally looks away from you, and you can breathe again. you grapple with the sudden influx of air in your lungs, the anxiety of misstepping broiling in the pit of your stomach. while you internally struggle with yourself, nanami sets his somaek on the coffee table, before slumping back again.

“i suppose we’re not.”

unsurprisingly, kento does not make the first move. he just sits there, one arm behind his head and the other laying limp at his side, his chin tilted towards the sky and his eyes shut as if to sleep. it’s not in a way that might be construed as arrogance — this isn’t your high school boyfriend sitting back and waiting for you to pull down his pants — it’s pure and utter indulgence. climb over him if you want. kiss him when you want. cross the imaginary line drawn in the sand when it suits you — regardless, he won’t ever touch unless you explicitly make it clear that you want him to. desire curdles in your stomach, almost painful, and it's all you can do to scrabble onto your knees beside him.

before your anxiety takes control of your faculties — before you allow your cowardice to seize your limbs — you swing a knee to the other side of his hips. you're straddling him, close enough that you're sure you're sharing the same air, and — fuck, he's much bigger than you'd anticipated. he doesn't have the wiry, lean stature of the average salaryman — somehow, between sleeping overnight in the office and drinking at izakayas almost nightly, kento's frame is sturdy and large, muscular. like he works out often. you don't know how he does it with the long hours he puts in, but your thighs almost ache with the stretch of his hips between them — and pressed right against you, right where you're sensitive and aching and perhaps a little too needy, is his clothed cock. the slacks do little to camouflage the shape or hardness of it — in fact, you swear you feel it twitch when you seat yourself against it.

kento's eyes flutter open. his cheekbones are slowly reddening, his glasses hooked low on his nose bridge. his arms twitch where they lay, like he was about to move to hold you and thought better of it. you wish he didn't think better of it. "hi."

you give a little smile, hopefully looking less like you're brimming with excitable energy than you actually are. his lips really are quite close to yours. if you just leaned forward... "hi."

they're not chapped, his lips, but not shining with lip balm. they're soft looking and slightly pink, naturally down-turned in a way that makes him seem grumpy most of the time. but they're quirked up in a little smile, now, and all you can think about is how they might feel against yours. your lip gloss has long since rubbed off, between drinking and eating and drinking again, but would the remnants of glitter smear against his lips? would he come away tasting cherries?

kento clears his throat.

"i have to be honest with you," he says. he adjusts his glasses smartly, the way he does at the office, the way that has all the your female coworkers swooning. "i'm… passed the age of doing things no strings attached — that is to say, if—”

heart suddenly swooping in your chest — delighted at being indulged, of having your affections returned — and brain whizzing along like a child who's had too much sugar, you connect your lips with little fanfare. you're perhaps too enthusiastic — prodding his mouth with your tongue as soon as he'll let you, leaning forward until your chests press together and you can almost feel his heart beating through his skin. his lips are soft, after all. soft but weathered, moving so pleasantly against yours — and then his hands squeeze at the plushness of your hips, his teeth take your bottom lip between them, and—

you're panting when you pull away. panting and flushed and hot all over, barely an inch between you for fear of distance. you’re hot where you’re connected, so filled with nervous, excitable energy you think you might wither; nanami’s grasp on you, steel-tight and warm, does little to help. it’s all you can do to give yourself a second to recuperate, chest heaving — and nanami seems just as bad off. the usually well-kept salaryman looks a mess underneath you, with his lips swollen, his eyes half-lidded, and his breathing uneven — even then, though, his eyes are far too intense for you to calm any.

“to be honest,” you say, "i’m — i’m a little too old for that, too, kento."

another small smile. the gap between you is filled once more. you both call in sick that morning.

[stevesgother]

Little Red Lighthouse - S.H

Pairing - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings - exes to lovers, second chance romance, angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort, idiots in love, so much pining, cursing, alcohol & drug use, mental health themes

WC - 1.3k

AN - this was originally gonna be a super long oneshot, but in typical emma fashion I'm making it into another mini series

Divider by the amazing @strangergraphics <3

The Alcott. That was your favorite bar in Hawkins; and it was all you could think about sitting outside this shitty bar in Chicago. A mere few hours from home, and yet entirely too far. Just having finished school; it was an education completely orchestrated by your parents. A college you didn’t want to attend, a degree you had no enthusiasm for.

This was how you seemed to be spending most of your days post-undergrad: sulking and ruminating. Everything you could’ve had, but don’t.

–

“Steve, this is insane. That’s like a 15 foot drop!” 

You say as you peer over the bridge, shivering slightly in just your underclothes. It was only the cusp of Spring, the weather in Indiana hardly what you would consider “warm”.

“Oh c’mon. You said you would!” He barked a laugh.

“I told my mother that if you jumped off a bridge that I would too as a hypothetical.” You deadpan, even though a smile still tugs the corners of your mouth.

He looked lovely, always did. Moles adorning his cheeks, scattering their way down his back and into his boxers where your vision couldn’t reach. He shot you a grin only reserved for you.

“3..2..1 JUMP!”

“Wait!-”

Steve gripped your hand, pulling you down with him into the icy water below the bridge. Unable to decipher if the sinking feeling in your gut was from the rapid fall of his skin on yours. The shock of the bitterly cold water knocked the wind out of you.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” His smile gleaming at you. Water dripped from his eyelashes, beading on the apples of his cheeks.

 “It’s freezing!” you gasp as you surface. He starts to grip your shoulders in his warm hands, then pauses. A sudden nervousness settled and he was staring. You nervously wondered if there was something else in the water with you both. He never broke his stare. Your best friend for a million lifetimes, beautiful as ever. Looking at you as if you hung the moon just for him.

“I think I'm in love with you.”

–

When Steve finally peeled open his eyes and glanced at the blinking red of the alarm clock it read ‘3:00 PM’. His breath tasted of stale liquor as he slowly rose from his unmade bed. Skull pounding, he blindly reached for the painkillers he had made a habit of keeping on his nightstand, for afternoons like this.

Your old friend group planned a ‘welcome home’ party in anticipation for your return to Hawkins. Where you had gone to college out of state and made a new life for yourself, Steve hadn’t seemed to be able to keep his ahead above the violent current that was the trauma he endured here, in your hometown.

--

As you rested on the train back to Indiana, walkman in hand, you felt an air of nausea.You had started to regret leaving your car at your parents house 4 years ago; unsure whether the knot you felt in your gut was the result of motion sickness, or the thought of having to face him again.

Admittedly you were excited to see your friends again. You hadn’t come home for Christmas, for Thanksgiving, not even for summer breaks – always opting to stay as far away from that living nightmare as possible. You told yourself little lies. That it wasn’t because Steve Harrington still resided there, and with him, everything you lost. Everything you know you can never get back.

--

The air in Steve’s office was stiff and smelled of stale coffee. Robin sits in a less than lady-like position across from him in a chair unofficially designated for her. A plaque that reads “Chief” sat crooked between them from where Robin had set down the paper bag containing their lunch.

“You’re going to have to face her at some point, Steve.” Her voice snaps him out of his dissociative state.

“Yeah, I got it.” He sighs irritably, all traces of enthusiasm drained from his tone.

“I’m just saying,” she starts, “it's been four years. I’m sure she’s moved on, man. No bad blood.” It’s meant to be reassuring, but she doesn’t understand that that's entirely the problem. He gives her a skeptical stare. “Look, we’ll all be there. You have a ton of buffer people. Just stop by for a few minutes? For me?” The childish pout she gives in an attempt to guilt-trip is enough to push him over the edge.

“Rob- okay, fine. Stop making that face. For an hour. Not a second longer.” He points a finger at her, not unkindly.

–

As your car crunches over the gravel in the parking lot of Robin’s apartment complex, you can’t help but notice it’s already filled with cars despite you being perfectly on time. All the windows you knew belonged to her unit were lit a glowing yellow behind sheer curtains, allowing you glimpses of mingling silhouettes. You wonder briefly if this was intentional, or if in your never-ending brain fog, you managed to jumble the times.

A quick glance around the lot reveals that your friends still have the same cars they did all those years ago. Jonathan’s Ford LTD, Nancy’s Volkswagen Cabrio, and an achingly familiar maroon BMW 733i. Your heart jumps to your throat when you see it, accompanied by a sharp twist of betrayal in your chest as you don’t recall Robin ever mentioning he would be here. You suppose you can’t blame her.

You stop to take several deep breaths at the front door. You can hear the bass of an old, classic tune bumping inside and you try to time your breathing with it. In three, hold three, out three, and repeat. You raise your fist to knock before thinking it silly, so you just give the knob a tentative twist and walk in.

The room erupts in ‘Hey!’’s and ‘There she is!’’s. It’s a relief to realize they don’t hate your guts, even though they’ve always made it clear that they don’t. A nauseating guilt settles over you as you’re reminded of how long you’ve left them with barely any word from you at all– the pain of this town and everything that happened in it just too much to bear; even if they were your best friends.

Back then, talking to them sounded like long, mucousy vines that strangled and trapped. It sounded like the bitter cold and emptiness of your hometown mirrored just beneath your feet. It sounded like watching chunks of flesh be ripped from the stomach of the boy you loved. It sounded like his screams for your help and you just couldn’t– you needed time.

Now though, as they wrap you in hugs and you smell the homey scent of your best friends apartment, it feels less like then and more like now. Over Nancy’s shoulder, slightly obscured by her usually wild curls, you catch the eye of the one person not dogpiling you, and fight the grimace threatening to surface. You don’t hate Steve, not by any sense of the word– you just can’t look at his stupid, beautiful face without remembering what you did to him.

When everyone disperses, satisfied with their greetings, you can really take in Steve’s appearance in front of you. The years haven’t been unkind to him, but he looks tired. Day old, maybe two, stubble shadows his usually bright face. He fills out the red sweater and light wash Levi’s he wears nicely. You think he’ll always have that boyish Harrington charm, but he looks more like a man than when you left him.

You walk towards him hesitantly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

[lewisvinga]

fashion icons | zhou guanyu x fem! reader

summary; everybody thought that zhou was single until his classic paddock walks where he shows up dressed all fashionably with an equally as fashionable girlfriend and daughter.

warnings; ?

word count; 555 ( angel numbers 🤗 )

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri

note; requested !

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Over here, Zhou!”

“Zhou, who is that?”

“Is that your daughter, Zhou?”

Zhou has to hold back his smile at the sudden burst of questions from reporters and paparazzi as he makes his way into the paddock with a little girl who was his carbon copy in his arms.

He was holding hands with a woman no one had seen on the paddock before. The three all had matching outfits. Zhou wore an oversized beige button-up with baggy white pants. The woman wore a long white skirt with a beige sweater top. Meanwhile, Zhou’s carbon copy wore a beige overall dress with a white button-up underneath.

With the way the young girl clung to him and the woman held onto his arm, it no doubt that it was his family. Nobody even knew he was dating someone, much less dating someone AND having a daughter with them.

“Zhou Guanyu!” Charles shouted as he saw the Chinese driver strolling by him and another group of drivers. “What the hell, mate?” The Monegasque was as shocked as everyone else. Not even the drivers knew about his family.

“Everyone meet Daiyu,” Zhou said with a smile as the shy almost 2-year-old lifted up her hand to wave at them. “She’s my daughter.” His words caused the others to emit gasps. “And this lovely woman here is-“

“Y/n L/n!” Lewis exclaimed, immediately recognizing her. Y/n laughed as the 7x world champion greeted her with a hug. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?”

“Too long. I missed the paddock.” She responded, resting her head against his shoulder for a second.

“You had a secret family this whole time?” Lando loudly exclaimed but got shushed by his teammate.

“Mate, since when?” Max asks, feeling utterly confused. “And how did Lewis know?”

“He introduced us actually,” Y/n spoke up with a chuckle, and just like her daughter, she shyly waved at the dazed drivers. “Nice to meet you all. I’m actually a fashion designer and helped multiple big designer companies. I also helped plan out a lot of Lewis’ outfits. He introduced me to Zhou in 2019. Said we’d make a great pair.”

“And I was right!” Lewis said in a prideful tone. He then gestures to Daiyu who seemed distracted by Max’s hair. “They had an equally fashionable baby!”

Y/n laughed as she nudged her boyfriend with her elbow. “Helps when her mama is a fashion designer and her dad likes fashion.”

“I can’t believe we didn’t know anything!” Charles exclaimed, still in disbelief about the whole situation. The Ferrari driver seemed more grumpy about being left in the dark but it immediately went away as Daiyu’s focus moved to him. “She is quite adorable though. Wow, she looks just like you.”

Zhou sheepishly smiled and shrugged. “Wanted my privacy I guess. Figured it was time for the world to know the whole reason why I drive.”

“I can already imagine the headlines being about your matching outfits,” Yuki chuckled and glanced over their beige and white outfits. “Zhou Guanyu and Y/n L/n, a family of fashion icons!”

Y/n turns to Zhou with a smile on her lips, her hands fixing Daiyu’s bangs. “Guess we are a family of fashion icons, aren’t we?”

“We’ve been fashion icons. At least I don’t wear my team shirt everywhere I go.”

“Hey! It’s comfortable!”

[thankskenpenders]

Amy's fortune cards

The Sonic fandom has long been the kind of fandom that takes minor details very seriously, for better or worse. On the one hand, this means fans will really dig for the diamonds in the rough, latching onto fun character interactions, animations, bits of background worldbuilding, and more in pieces of Sonic media that many would write off as "the bad ones." But it also feels like every week another needlessly hostile debate over Sonic minutia erupts on Twitter, whether it's over individual lines of dialogue, fanart that makes Tails' shoes blue, or the ideal length and volume for Sonic's quills.

So it was probably inevitable that a fandom-wide debate would erupt upon seeing Amy's new gameplay style in the DLC for Sonic Frontiers, which takes the once-obscure fact that she enjoys reading tarot and shines a spotlight on it like never before.

I mean:

The thing is, while I basically always try to tune out Sonic fandom bickering... for once, I kind of sympathize with the detractors? Don't get me wrong, I like Amy's tarot stuff, and people on all sides of the discussion are being overly nasty about their opinions, as usual. (Sonic Twitter remains my personal hell.) But when I set aside the hyperbole and zoom out, I do think I understand why some fans are put off by the sudden shift in focus for the character, even if I think it's cool.

It's complicated. Let me attempt to present the cases for and against Amy's fortune cards

For years, I was always one of those fans who thought it could be fun if they played with Amy's tarot reading, or even leaned into some kind of magic with her. Part of that is my own biases showing, but there's just something that makes sense there, especially when you look at Sonic, Tails, and Amy as a trio. (I would argue that's the real "Team Sonic" these days, especially in the comics where Knuckles is more likely to be stuck on Angel Island or otherwise doing his own thing.)

You could argue that Tails is all about logic, relying on science and technology and deductive reasoning to solve problems. But Amy is all about emotion. She wears her heart on her sleeve, is extremely empathetic, and is very prone to magical thinking - both figuratively and sometimes literally. Her origin story has always been that her tarot cards told her it was her destiny to meet Sonic on Little Planet. She's claimed to be able to "sense" peoples' presences - particularly Sonic's. She's the type to believe that The Power of Love is a literal magical force. So, on some level, it makes sense to mirror Tails's science by having Sonic's other best friend believe in magic. And then Sonic is somewhere in the middle, primarily following his own gut instincts but taking advice from both of them as needed. This isn't totally accurate to how their dynamics actually function in canon stories, but I think it's a mode that could work for them.

Going off of that, it's fun to lean all the way into Amy being a magical girl, or even a witch, using her fortune telling as a foundation. Take, for example, this version of Amy from Diana Skelly's old Sonic cast redesigns from before she freelanced for Archie and IDW. This is one of MANY such redesigns for Amy.

Fast forward to the 2020s, and Amy's tarot cards are, in fact, finally getting brought up again in canon. Which is fun! I like seeing that. I like all of the individual stories involving Amy's fortune cards. This is a fun character trait for Amy, a fun nod to old lore, AND a fun storytelling device, all in one. It's really cool that the Sonic universe has its own thematically appropriate arcana, and that the cards are getting made as physical merch. And sure enough, the official card backs and borders were designed by none other than Diana Skelly, in yet another cool example of an ascendant fan leaving their mark on the series.

BUT... when you step back and look at the big picture, I get why some fans find this shift in focus jarring. At the moment, it's starting to feel like every new story about Amy involves her fortune cards to some degree.

The most recent mainline comic arc to feature Amy as the lead character, 2021's Trial by Fire arc, prominently features a sequence where she reads fortunes while camping with the girls. The Origins version of Sonic CD now bookends the game with scenes of Amy and her tarot cards. Sonic randomly mentioned it in a scene in Frontiers. And now, just this week, we got the (very cute, gorgeously illustrated) Amy's 30th Anniversary comic with a story revolving around Amy's tarot cards, followed the very next day by the Frontiers DLC in which she gets a brand new tarot-based moveset. Even her base melee attack now has her throwing tarot cards instead of swinging her hammer. Again, I like all of these individual things, but after years of it almost never coming up at all, it's VERY noticeable that Amy's tarot cards are suddenly everywhere.

To be fair, I'm looking at this from the perspective of a superfan who's actively following ALL Sonic media. Casual fans - especially kids - aren't necessarily going to be reading the comics every month, buying the thousandth rerelease of the Genesis games, or playing the ultra-hard new alternate ending DLC for a game that came out last year. Each of these stories is going to be someone's introduction to the idea that Amy can read tarot, and that's probably part of the idea behind this unified push.

But to play devil's advocate, for my fellow superfans, I understand why it feels like a very minor footnote of Amy's character is suddenly becoming the entire focus of her personality. While Amy has always been said to enjoy fortune telling, that wasn't really a character trait in and of itself, but rather an example of her being a typical girl who hopes she'll be able to find true love one day. It's less that Amy can literally predict the future and more like her using a cootie catcher or going "he loves me, he loves me not" while picking the petals off of a flower. So I get not vibing with this stuff, or feeling like it's being pushed very hard out of nowhere.

What I don't agree with are comparisons like "it's like if they made Knuckles' moveset revolve around him liking grapes." Like, I get it. Ian Flynn loves shoehorning in his little winking references for us nerds, and mentions of Amy's tarot cards were previously on the same level as other random bullet points from old Japanese manuals. But a multifaceted hobby like fortune telling that opens up so many narrative and aesthetic possibilities is obviously very different from having a favorite food. It's ALWAYS been a part of her story, not just a random fact, and there's no reason why the fortune telling can't be elevated to something more.

And, hell, even if it wasn't an established character trait, there's nothing inherently wrong with injecting new ideas into a character. One of the best Amy stories in recent years, the Free Comic Book Day special "Amy's New Hobby" written by Gale Galligan, came up with the idea that Amy's secretly been drawing little comics about her and her friends. Is this based on Lore? No. But it's cute, and helps tell the story of a younger Amy who's still coming out of her shell as both a hero and a friend.

Certain fans are also looking at Amy's Frontiers moveset and using it as evidence that once again the Vile American Contributors like Ian are CORRUPTING Sonic Team's perfect vision of Sonic with their misinterpretations. And like. Come on. Ian does not control the gameplay. He's a freelance writer. The tarot stuff is clearly something that Sonic Team likes if they made it the basis of Amy's new moveset - and, you know, if they keep approving comics and animations about Amy's fortune telling. None of this gets made without their blessing, and lord knows how much they can micromanage shit and shoot down ideas over the most minor of details.

Like, yeah, Amy's fortune telling was probably conceived less as a sign that she Knows Magic and more as a pretty mundane hobby for a lovesick young Japanese girl to have. But you're gonna sit there and tell me that using Amy's tarot cards for more than that could only be the result of a cultural misunderstanding? That nobody in Japan uses tarot card theming and aesthetics (or the general idea of magical cards) for the cool factor? Stardust Crusaders? Persona? The Astrologian class in FFXIV? Cardcaptor Sakura?? Hello??? Do you think Capcom put Gambit in Marvel vs. Capcom ironically because they thought using magic to throw cards at people was stupid? There's tons of precedent for this! It's nothing like Knuckles throwing grapes at people, be for real.

Giving Amy a very magical girl-esque moveset also just makes a lot of sense. For decades her hammer attacks have literally made sparkly heart shapes appear around her. Leaning into both that and her tarot cards in her new moveset makes a lot of sense to me.

But, admittedly... I do think it's very odd that her hammer is treated as a secondary element here, rather than having her primarily use her hammer and adding the cards for extra flair. If hitting the attack button made her swing her hammer instead of throwing cards, I'm not sure we'd even be having this discussion right now.

But the tarot-cycle and Amy riding her hammer like a witch's broom are fucking SICK and I will not concede on this point

The thing is, this whole fortune card discourse is but a small piece of a bigger problem. Amy's been a character who needed some work for ages, but there's basically nothing you can do with her without pissing SOMEONE off.

Years of stories where Amy's crush was her primary motivator and Sonic went "Ew, cooties!" have lead many casual fans to believe that being Sonic's obsessive fangirl is Amy's entire personality. At best people might call her Sonic's Minnie Mouse. This isn't just a matter of Amy having haters within the fandom - venture outside of that bubble and you'll realize that this is how MOST video game playing people seem to see her to this day. I don't feel like this is a fair assessment of the character, but this idea didn't come from nowhere. No matter how much good deeply entrenched Sonic fans may see in their old dynamic where Amy perpetually chases Sonic, this is a very real problem that Sonic Team has to contend with for their leading girl. Of course all those games where the way-past-cool protagonist thought Amy was annoyingly clingy and tried to get away from her made people think less of her.

If new stories were to go back to emphasizing Amy's crush on Sonic a little more, they'd probably be taken as confirmation that Amy's just the girl with a crush on Sonic and that this is her entire personality. Conversely, when the crush is played down, you piss off the hardcore SonAmy fans who don't seem to understand that they're Charlie Brown and Sega is Lucy holding the football. You can't win.

And so here we are. In the absence of what was once her defining trait, now reduced to an occasional blush or wink in Sonic's direction, new stories are trying to mine Amy's past for additional material to work with. Having been a thing fans wanted to see for years, right now we're getting a lot of tarot, but we're also getting reminders of her compassionate nature and her desire to go out of her way to help the little guy. This is an ongoing process. I continue to hope that her bubbly, exuberant demeanor can shine more in future stories. Now, I also hope that the tarot stuff gets balanced out a little better with other traits of hers. But I don't want it to go away. I think it's fun.

This course correcting is far from exclusive to Amy. Knuckles is getting stories that remind us that he's a competent fighter, an experienced treasure hunter, and even a self-taught archaeologist after years of him being perceived as either the dumb one or just the guy who stands in front of the Master Emerald all day. And Tails has been getting some stories reminding folks that he's a capable hero in his own right and not just Sonic's timid kid sidekick.

But no supporting character will ever compete with the sheer number of new ideas Sega has tried with Sonic himself. Like Amy, his Frontiers moveset has also given him half a dozen new superpowers that he never had before, from the Cyloop to air-slicing projectile attacks to his own take on Shadow Clone Jutsu and beyond. He's also been a hoverboarder, a swordsman, a time traveler, an Olympic athlete, a racecar driver, cursed with a Flame of Judgment, imbued with alien power, a fucking Werehog with stretchy powers, and on and on and on.

If Sonic can do all that, Amy can try out using a tarot-cycle.

Anyway TL;DR the REAL problem with Amy's current characterization... is where the FUCK is Amy's bestie, Honey the Cat???????

[saeun]

geto, above all, will do anything for his little girl. whether it's spending hundreds on a ridiculously large bouncy castle or a miniature designer bag. whichever fits her wants at best, she'll get it. but there's just one peculiar thing geto finds himself not being able to give her: the answer to her question.

with every ounce of his attention focused on the teriyaki chicken, he tries to quietly prepare a simple meal for dinner. right now, you're participating in your daily naps which lead to daddy-daughter alone time. a four-year-old girl keeps him company during the hard times without your presence.

if only geto knew how many questions a child can throw at him under a minute. he responded to most of her questions automatically, however, there was just one particular question that rendered him answer-less.

"daddy, why do you like mommy?" a harmless question. it doesn't reek of any deeper meaning nor was it meant to throw geto into a spiralling abyss. but why does he like you? when did he fall in love?

he wonders whether it was because you looked at him up and down as if he said the world's most offensive thing or maybe because you accidentally slapped him when he snuck up on you — actually, he vividly remembers and will continue to be embarrassed by that.

it all happened like this: you were waiting for the vending machine to deliver your snack. obviously, you were minding your business, but someone else wasn't. it took nothing but a left turn for geto suguru to stop in his tracks. as if mischievous music had been cued, geto smirks to himself. he has discovered his plan and his victim. no, he doesn't know you, nor do you know him. he's just very, very bored and needs entertainment.

geto sneaks his way to you. his posture was oddly cartoonish for his age: large, quiet tiptoe steps, hands brought up to his chest, eyes squinted for extra focus. according to the getology sugurist chronicles, one must imagine themselves as silence to achieve ultimate silence. real gangsters move in silence, they say.

"hey—" his sentence was unfortunately cut short. the sudden physical contact against his face left him breathless. he dares for whoever slapped him to not — oh!

is this what they call romance? "first love at sight" or whatever the hell satoru said? whatever it is, he's blushing. geto didn't expect such a beautiful, majestically shocked, and a tad bit disgusted lady to be bestowing him with her gaze. right now, as of this moment, he feels like saying, "haha, no girl has ever hit me before," but he won't. he has his own limits for cringing.

"sorry, i got startled," you apologized, reaching your hand out to soothe his cheek.

as if it's a default reaction, geto steps back. "don't worry, it's okay."

"please, let me treat it. it was my fault," you insisted.

"no, no. i'm okay, really."

sighing, you hand him the snack you ordered from the vending machine. "then take this."

and from there, the story of his love with you became history.

whirling himself out of the flashback, geto redirects his attention to his daughter. truly, he doesn't know what exactly made him love you. from the slight crush to marriage, geto's fell in love over and over. there's not just a single moment that hooked him to you. it was just you. not a moment, not a memory. just you. but of course, he isn't going to get sentimental with his little girl!

choosing to go with your first encounter, he answers her, "your mom slapped me and i immediately found her attractive."

"oh.." a confused look dawns the four-year-old. her head tilts to the side, eyebrows furrowed with lips twisted to the side. is daddy crazy? she can only wonder to herself.

geto's amused by her reaction. her confused look is replica to yours — kind of makes him miss you, if he's going to be honest. but as stated in the getology sugurist chronicles (2), one mustn't awaken the slumbering mother hen. he learnt from experience.

[the-kr8tor]

Hallo Katy!!! I've been missing for a while but I'm back for now >:D, and...

Happy one year anniversary🎉🎉🎉

Been in need of a sugary treat so I'll have a cardamom ❣️ for boyfriend Hobie who let's gn/reader give him a full face of trad goth makeup (could be any but I think the goth look would be funny and adorable with all the steps it has) (and maybe reader is goth themselves 👀)

(also the make you potion idea for the requests is so cool)

Have a great day Katy🧡🧡🧡

-🃏anon

Thank you for requesting!! I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (reader is wearing makeup,) established relationship, fluff!

One year celebration 🎉

You're just finishing up with your makeup when you finally notice Hobie watching you in the bathroom doorway. He's casually leaning on the door, arms crossed over his chest and eyes twinkling under the bright light of the bathroom vanity mirror.

“You're ogling, Hobs.” You say in a sing-song tone, hand still holding onto a blending brush.

“What of it?” He asks with a smirk, eyeing the complicated eyeliner you have on.

Leaning on the sink, hip digging into the porcelain, you match his smirk. “Take a picture, it'll last longer.”

Crossing the small distance, hands gravitating on your hips, his footsteps reverberate on the tiled walls. “I jus’ might. You look bloody fit, lovie.”

Your palms rest on his chest, accidentally smudging the eyeliner that stained your fingers earlier right on his old band shirt that you always loved because of the deep cutouts on his arms. “Shit, sorry.” Grabbing a wet wipe, all without leaving his arms, you wipe away the residue. He hums in thanks, squeezing your side once for good measure. “How long have you been standing there, you stalker.”

“Right when you were doin' the web liner under your lashes.” The pads of his fingertips hover along the complicated design, tracing along the spiderwebs. “How the fuck did you do that?” His nose scrunches up and his eyes twinkle with a teasing glint. “When you have to sneeze, have you accidentally ruined it?”

Your laughs echo around the bathroom. “It took some practice. And yes, I have done that.” You wince when you remember that one time you had a huge line across your cheeks because of an unfortunate sneeze.

“Shit, I'd love to see that.” He mirrors your smile, still admiring your look.

“This isn't the first time you've seen me like this, why the sudden curiosity, hm?” You thumb away the hem of his shirt and rest the pads of it right on his hip, just comfortably resting on him.

He glances at your hands and decides to move closer, knees kissing and barely an inch away from you. “The spiderwebs got me, I think.”

You bite your lip, cheeks hot as he stares at you intensely. “I stole your aesthetic, is that it? Is that why I got your attention?”

“You always have my attention, love.” He says softly. He was about to nudge your nose with his own like always but stops halfway so he doesn't smudge your makeup. Your heart is full from his comment. “No, I don't give a shit about aesthetics.” He says with a slight mocking tone that has you grinning. “Or you stealin’ mine. You were in 'ere for hours, I thought you slipped and fell.”

With a giggle, you pat his cheeks. “Hours is an exaggeration. It's only been what, two hours?” Hands around the back of his neck, you stare at him lovingly while he laughs at your statement. “Do you want me to show you how to do it? I've got some time to kill before we go out.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you wait for his answer.

“And match with you?” You nod slowly. Pretending to think, Hobie hops on the counter and taps the corner of his eye. “Make me pretty, lovie.”

You position yourself in between his legs and with a lopsided grin from him, he lets you in. Your hefty makeup bag rattles as you put it on his lap.

“Impossible, you're already pretty, Hobie.”

—

Hobie surprisingly sits still for what seems to be like forty minutes of you humming and gently putting on makeup around his eyelids. Due to the lack of time on your hands, he agreed to just do his eyes for now. In the meantime, he holds out a hand mirror that he raises up to check on his appearance.

He makes conversation all throughout, like what kind of brush you're using and what the sharp eyeliner pen is for. (He was definitely afraid of accidentally getting poked with it.) You reassure him every step of the way and to trust the process. He's loving the attention though, as if you've deprived him of it since now. You pretend you don't see him feeling sleepy with every brush stroke.

You get a glimpse of his smile whenever he sees the progress of the spiderwebs under the eyeliner. “You like it?” Finishing up with a final blend on his eyeshadow, you gently tilt his head towards the bigger mirror behind him.

Hobie whistles lowly, grinning ear to ear as he admires himself in the mirror. “Fuck, I look fit.” Laughing, he turns towards you and cups your cheeks in his warm hands. “Thank you, lovie.” He says in between kisses to your lips. He leans away expecting that he accidentally smudged your dark lipstick. Raising a brow, he leans again for another kiss that leaves a resounding smack. And yet it still doesn't transfer to his own lips. “How the—?”

“Kiss proof lipstick, Hobie. The way of the future.”

“Fuck that, I want it to on me too.” With a tug and a giggle from you, he kisses you fervently and tests out the so-called ‘kiss proof’ ability of your lipstick.

[makeyoumine69]

Till Death Do Us Part | Ch. 9

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After a failed vacation in the Hamptons, you and Patrick put your "relationships" on pause until your families decided to raise the stakes.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: Romance & Angst, Arranged Marriage Trope, Enemies to Lovers & Love/Hate Dynamics, Corruption and Innocence Kinks, Implied Misogyny and Objectification, Reader and Patrick Were Childhood Friends.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 3.5k

𝐀/𝐍: Hey! It's been a while, and I hope everyone who's been waiting for this series to be updated will enjoy this new chapter!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [Ch.8]; [SERIES M-LIST]; [Ch.10].

Almost a week later, you couldn't stop thinking about the night you and Patrick almost had sex. Although the two of you hadn't spoken since your failed vacation in the Hamptons, your mother, Janet Rice, figured Patrick was probably busy working on Wall Street, so she invited you back to the family home and told you to focus on work. Being a nurse was pretty hard, but it helped you put the past events out of your mind for a while. If only your family knew that you were not bothered by not having any contact with your future husband, on the contrary, you were so damn happy not to hear, see, or interact with this man.

As a result of all this, your life seemed to get much better in the last few days.

Until today.

Because today there was an important charity dinner at your family's estate, and of course Bateman and his parents were invited. This news stressed you out so much that you decided to stay in your room, convinced that all of this was not just a coincidence, but a well-crafted plan of your beloved mother. Of course, that woman was capable of such things—everyone who knew her well was aware that Janet had the traits of a cunning vixen—and setting up an arranged marriage between you and Patrick was originally her idea. Besides, you didn't know how you would act around the Bateman family with all the information Patrick had recently told you about his father constantly cheating on his mother. You also remembered that they were divorced and it was really strange that they decided to appear together at an upcoming event. However, they probably just wanted to keep up the perfect image before their son's wedding, even though Linda Bateman hasn't been feeling well the past few years.

As the final arrangements for the dinner were being made, a sudden knock at the main door attracted everyone's attention, and Janet immediately sent the maids away, saying that she would see the guests herself. When she opened the heavy front door and saw the Bateman family, the elegant old woman was more than happy to see them all.

"Oh, hi!" Mrs. Rice exclaimed, gesturing to welcome them. "Please, come in!" Patrick Bateman and his bloody rich parents—Linda and Thomas Bateman—entered the house under Janet's scrutinizing gaze. "I trust the journey here was smooth and pleasant?"

The heels of Patrick's Italian leather shoes clicked against the marble floor as he stepped into the grand foyer of the Rice estate, his eyes sweeping briefly over the lavish interior. The chandeliers were polished to a perfect shine, the air thick with the scent of expensive flowers and aged wine. His parents followed behind him, his father giving Janet a polite nod while his mother flashed the kind of smile that was more for show than sincerity. Linda Bateman, dressed in an designer evening gown that cost more than most people's annual salaries, barely glanced at the decor. She had seen it all before.

"The ride was acceptable," Thomas Bateman replied, his voice clipped but cordial as he handed his coat to the waiting maid. "Though I must say the traffic on Fifth Avenue is an absolute nightmare these days." His tone suggested that he found it personally offensive.

Linda sighed softly and waved her hand as if the topic had bored her. "We hope this evening will be worth the trouble." Her eyes glanced around, searching, before returning to Janet. "Rebecca, dear—where is she? I assume she's dressed appropriately this time."

Patrick remained silent, his grin faint but ever present as his eyes scanned the gathering guests. The usual crowd was here—men in overpriced suits, women draped in jewelry they barely understood, all pretending to care about charity while secretly competing to see who had the most influence. It was all so boring, but you... you were nowhere to be seen, and that was intriguing. With a soft, perfectly controlled smirk, the man adjusted the cuff of his Valentino suit, letting the conversation between his parents and Mrs. Rice wash over him like background noise. He had expected you to be waiting—nervous, fidgeting, anticipating. And yet you made him wait instead.

That wouldn't do.

Janet, ever the gracious hostess, gave a small laugh, though there was a hint of discomfort behind it. "Oh, I'm sure she'll be down soon. She's just... getting ready."

Hiding his hands in the pockets of his suit, Patrick arched an eyebrow but said nothing; his mother, however, let out a small hum of disapproval.

"She understands the importance of tonight, doesn't she?" Linda's gaze sharpened, though her smile remained perfectly in place. "This is her future, after all."

Bateman let his grin widen just a fraction. Oh, Rebecca, he thought, amusement curling through him. You really should know better than to keep me waiting.

Meanwhile, you were still locked in your room and you knew that Patrick and his parents were already here because you had seen their limousine drive through the gates. And it was only a matter of time before your mother would show up to throw a tantrum, so you had to hurry up and finish your look for tonight. As you turned in front of the mirror, you were wearing a long, tight black dress that hugged your curves. The makeup was not really bright, it was nude but very stylish. As soon as Mrs. Rice appeared in the doorway, you were ready.

After a several minutes, the two of you came downstairs and entered a small room that was your father's home office to see him smoking a cigar with Patrick and Thomas Bateman while his ex-wife boredly explored the interior. Patrick looked up from his drink the moment you entered the room, his smirk widening slightly as his eyes swept over you—the dress you wore clung to your body in a way that demanded attention, accentuating everything you probably thought you were trying to hide. But Bateman wasn't blind—he knew exactly how men's eyes would follow the slope of your waist, the way the fabric stretched over your figure.

The young man exhaled through his nose and set his glass down with a soft clink against the polished wood of the desk. His father and Peter Rice were still engaged in whatever dull conversation they were having earlier, their voices a low murmur over the faint hum of classical music coming from the record player in the corner. His mother, of course, barely noticed your presence, too busy inspecting the decor for any sign of bad taste. Patrick, however, let his eyes linger.

"I hope we haven't kept you waiting long," Mrs. Rice chirped, pushing you forward; the moment you met Patrick's gaze, you felt your face heat up almost instantly. "Anyone want another drink?"

"Oh, not at all," Patrick drawled, amusement flickering in his voice. "I wouldn't dream of complaining." He tilted his head slightly, watching your reaction. Before anyone else could respond, he stood and adjusted the red tie that gracefully encircled his neck with a slow, deliberate motion. "I'll take another scotch," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "And something warm for Rebecca."

It wasn’t a suggestion.

His father barely looked up from his cigar and waved a dismissive hand. "Bring me the same," he said, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke into the air.

Peter Rice nodded in agreement, already reaching for the bottle of whiskey on the desk. "Linda?" he asked politely, but Patrick's mother just shook her head, uninterested.

No one really cared about damn drinks.

As for Patrick, he was much more interested in you. So he gradually closed the space between the two of you, his movements smooth and unhurried, his fingers lightly brushing the small of your back—just a whisper of contact, just enough to remind you what his touch COULD feel like.

"You've been avoiding me," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, just for you. "I wonder why." The man was close enough now that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne mingling with the faint aroma of whiskey on his breath, his fingers ghosting over the fabric of your dress.

But his mother's voice stopped him before he could go any further. "Rebecca, dear," Linda called out, finally turning her gaze to the two of you, her expression unreadable. "I hope you've made the necessary preparations for the trip. It would be a shame if you weren't ready."

A chilling shock washed over you like a bucket of cold water. "A trip? What-"

"Bali, you and Patrick are going to Bali, please don't pretend you've forgotten," your mother suddenly chimed in, her face nothing but a perfect mask of fake cheerfulness as she continued to polish the smooth surface of the desk with a small piece of cloth. "Becca can be so distracted sometimes."

Bali? Really? It sounded like a bad joke or a nightmare.

To be isolated with a man like Patrick Bateman. Hell, no. It was too much even for a patient person like you, and you had already reached your limits, constantly giving Patrick chances he never really tried to use in a good way.

But what choice did you really have?

None at all?

Again?

Embarrassed, you took a moment to answer, feeling yourself nervous with all the attention focused on you. "Uh, of course, yeah, I'm prepared," you finally replied, and your mother immediately nodded, as if she was watching your every move. Then you turned to Patrick, stood on tiptoe, and whispered. "I haven't been avoiding you. You have. You didn't even call me. Not even once. Bali was your idea?"

But then you were carelessly interrupted by your father, who poured three glasses of the fine scotch for himself, Patrick and Thomas. "I would like to propose a toast to our beautiful children, and I hope that their union will soon bring us an heir!"

At a loss for words, you stood paralyzed, almost motionless, praying that your father would not bring up the subject of children this time. Stunned and confused, you watched your mother smile as if this was one of her insidious plans.

"I can see they're going to have a beautiful boy," Janet said, sitting next to Linda, who was surprisingly happy. "A boy and a girl!"

On the verge of starting a fight, you turned away from Patrick and rolled your eyes. "Mother, please. Stop it!"

Patrick could hardly restrain himself from rolling his eyes as well. Of course, that was what this was all about. The whole damn point of this engagement—this arrangement—was to consolidate their families' wealth, their power. And what better way to do that than by securing the next generation?

Patrick's mother, always the picture of grace and calculation, let out a satisfied hum. "A boy and a girl," she mused, twirling her wine glass between long, manicured fingers. "How charming."

Bateman's smile widened, but there was a sharpness to it now. He turned slightly, just enough to look down at your profile as you looked away from him, your face practically painted with anger and irritation.

Adorable, really.

Grinning like the most devious of villains, Patrick raised his glass and took a slow, measured sip of Scotch, letting the warmth spread through his chest—he paused just a little too long before speaking, his voice as soft as silk. "Well," he mused, tilting his head toward you, "Since we're making predictions, what do you think, darling?" His intonation wavered slightly on the last word, teasing, testing. "A boy? A girl? Or are we aiming for twins?"

Mr. Bateman's chuckle rumbled through the room, deep and approving. "Now that would be something."

Satisfied with his little show, Patrick exhaled through his nose, amusement flickering across his features. "We'll just have to see, won't we?" He raised his glass again and took another sip, deliberately slow.

Linda Bateman finally turned her full attention to you, giving you a look that was both scrutinizing and expectant. "Rebecca, sweetheart," she said, her voice like perfectly tempered glass, "I hope you're not planning on working too much once you're married. A nurse's schedule is so... demanding."

Bateman chuckled, watching you carefully, studying the way your posture shifted, his fingers again lightly brushing the small of your back, just a fleeting touch. "Come now, Mother," he murmured, voice laced with feigned sweetness. "Rebecca is a modern woman. I'm sure she can handle both...responsibilities." His thumb traced a slow, deliberate line along your spine before he withdrew his hand completely to pick up his drink again. "Don't you agree, Dove?"

God, no, not that nickname again. You wanted to scream, but you couldn't. "I agree," you replied curtly, taking a glass of wine your mother gracefully offered. "Thank you."

Janet patted your shoulder, almost affectionately. "Speaking of twins," she smiled even wider. "My sister has twins, and my aunt has twins. Do you remember that? So there's a great chance that you'll have twins, too. Isn't that amazing?"

And now you really didn't know what to say when Patrick's big palm suddenly found yours, squeezing it a little, and you instinctively lifted your eyes to look at him, the man smiling at you with his brown eyes without saying anything. The warmth of his skin sent a jolt of electricity through your system, making your heart skip a beat—you hated yourself for being so weak against his charming magic—the corner of his lips curled up a little from such long eye contact. And you didn't even notice that the two of you had been staring into each other's eyes all this time, as if under a spell.

"Yeah...that's amazing," you replied, finally breaking eye contact and taking a sip of red wine. "But I hope no one expects us to have kids so soon?"

The way you said it—cautiously, carefully, like tiptoeing around a landmine—only made his grin wider.

Linda tilted her head slightly and took a measured sip of her wine before casting a knowing glance at you. "Oh, darling," she purred, her voice soft but not really friendly, "expectation has very little to do with it. Things happen... naturally."

"Especially since you two seem to be getting along so well lately," Janet added, her tone light but with that unmistakable edge of maternal satisfaction.

Patrick felt your fingers twitch under his own, your hand was small in his, delicate, warm, but tense. The man squeezed it once more—just enough for you to notice. Just enough to keep you on the edge.

Peter Rice let out a booming chuckle and raised his glass. "Let's not put too much pressure on them just yet," he explained, though his grin suggested that he absolutely wanted pressure. "After all, they have their whole lives ahead of them. Isn't that right, Patrick?"

Bateman, who had been watching you from the corner of his eye, finally turned his attention back to the conversation. He lifted his glass lazily, swirling the amber liquid before taking a slow sip. "Of course," he muttered, his voice perfectly relaxed. "Plenty of time."

Linda raised an eyebrow at her son. "That almost sounds like reluctance." She mused.

Patrick chuckled, deep and soft. "Not at all," he lied. "Just enjoying watching my fiancée squirm."

The room erupted in polite laughter, though the sharp look Patrick's father gave him suggested he knew his son was playing a game.

Still, they seemed pleased enough, and Janet, ever the optimist, was already turning to her husband with a pleased smile. "Well," she chirped, "let's not overwhelm them. Tonight is supposed to be a celebration!"

Patrick leaned in slightly, his lips barely moving as he murmured against your ear. "You should have called me so I could have warned you," he purred, so quiet that only you could hear him. "But I like this better—watching you tremble with shock."

Then, with another gentle squeeze of your hand, the man released you, stepping back just enough to put distance between the two of you, but not before dragging his fingers lightly along your wrist, just to maintain the tension that glowed around your elegant figure.

Biting your lower lip from the rising anger, you wanted to rip that smug grin off Patrick's face in front of your dear family and future relatives.But the man seemed to calculate the situation a few steps ahead, and you didn't even have time to react when you felt his warm lips against your tender cheek.

"Relax, darling," Bateman leaned down and brushed his nose against your temple. "You'd love this little escape," his voice deepened, taking on a threatening tone. "Imagine, just you and me, and no one else around. I think we still have a lot to discuss and... finish."

Annoyed as hell, you turned away, almost hitting his nose, but you didn't care if he complained. "You don't know how far from reality you are."

Janet noticed the tension between you and Patrick faster than you could really make something unpredictable and what would definitely ruin the evening irrevocably, so she decided to act up and get everyone's attention while she still could. "I think it's time to share some big news," she looked up at her husband. "About the wedding gift."

"Oh, right," Peter rubbed his hands and stood up to approach you and your fiancé. "We've been thinking about the wedding gift for a long time, and we decided the best thing to do would be to buy you a penthouse in Upper Manhattan." Mr. Rice put his hand on Patrick's shoulder. "So the kids will have plenty of room. And... I hope you will take good care of my girl, Patrick."

And that was the last straw for your patience.

"Don't you think this is too... fast and... overwhelming for me?" You lost your composure and raised your voice without any remorse. "Why has no one asked me what I want?" You began to back away slowly until your back hit the wooden door behind you. "It's just not fair..."

The room fell silent, the polished hum of conversation suddenly stopped as all eyes turned to you. Mrs. Bateman's expression barely changed—just a slight tilt of her head, a flicker of scrutiny in her gaze. Patrick's father remained seated, taking another slow drag from his cigar, as if this outburst was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Peter Rice frowned, his hand still resting heavily on Patrick's shoulder. "Rebecca," he sighed. "This is a good thing. A penthouse in Manhattan isn't something to be overwhelmed by—it's an opportunity."

Bateman's classic grin wavered for a second before returning in full force, sharper this time, more amused than anything else. It was almost funny. Because really, did you still cling to the illusion that your wishes or desires mattered in any of this? That you had any say in how this was going to play out?

Linda Bateman took a slow sip of her wine and finally spoke in her perfectly controlled, dismissive tone. "Oh, darling, you're overreacting." Her eyes darted to Peter and Janet, as if to say "control her" without actually saying it. "This is what's best for everyone. For you. For Patrick. For both of our families."

The young man turned slightly, his grin deepening as he let his piercing gaze settle on your face, watching the way your breathing quickened, the way your fingers curled against your dress. "You sound surprised," he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. "Like you really thought you had a choice in any of this."

Peter chuckled, though there was a slight stiffness to it now. "Enough of this," he said, waving his hand. "Let's not turn this into a debate. We're celebrating." He stepped toward you and placed a paternal hand on your shoulder, though there was an unmistakable weight to it. "This is your future, sweetheart. You should be happy."

Linda Bateman nodded in agreement. "She'll get over it," she said nonchalantly, as if this were all a small hassle, a minor tantrum to be overlooked. "She's just overwhelmed. That's all."

"Hey," Patrick intercepted smoothly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "We better avoid any stress before our trip." He exhaled, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair before slipping one into the pocket of his suit. "Becca's not a child, after all."

Peter Rice hesitated, glancing between you and Patrick before he let out a short sigh and stepped back. "Of course, of course," he raised his hands, giving up with forced ease, though his jaw was tight. "I just wanted to make sure she understood how much we all put into this."

Patrick let out a small chuckle, but there was no real amusement. "Oh, I think she understands perfectly." His hazel eyes met yours again, something dark behind them. "Don't you, Dove?"

Your mother clapped her hands together and forced a smile. "Well!" she exclaimed, trying to change the subject. "We should get back to the main hall—the guests are expecting us."

Linda rose gracefully from her seat, smoothing the fabric of her dress. "Yes, let's not keep them waiting."

After a quick survey of the surroundings, Patrick remained where he was, unmoving, watching you under the dim glow of the chandelier. "Shall we?" He murmured, holding out a hand to you. Not forcefully. Not demanding. Just there.

A silent dare, and you still had a choice. Or at least you could pretend you did.

P.S. I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community or my side-blog to know when I update!

[srjlvr]

꒦꒷ enhypen ! and your infamous ship with them&lt;3

idol-ot7!enhypen x idol-fem!reader .. fluff .. no warnings&lt;3 not proofread!!

read pt.1 here!! — since you all liked it<3

ε ї з — heeseung

as if his heart eyes for you at the interview weren’t enough, heeseung started talking about you a lot in his lives, which only adds to your fan’s delusions.

he’d go on and talk about his day in his lives when all of a sudden he’d turn on some music and the first song he’d pick would be one of your songs.

“this song is so good, i listen to it almost every day, this artist y/n is really talented i really love her songs” he’d say with a big smile.

and oh, this is definitely not the end, he’d also go on and rant about the first time meeting you and tell them about those times when you bumped into each other, as if he’s telling his best friend about a new crush he has.

“i was walking down the aisle when i accidentally bumped into her, she was in a bit rush so she apologized quickly and ran away, it was so funny i didn’t know what to do” he’d giggle, “after that she saw me again and even got me a snack, that’s cute”

with delusional fans, comes the delusional tweets of fans, and the conspiracies about heeseung having a crush too (which might be true)

“if i wasn’t so sure before, now im more than 100% sure that this boy is having a crush on her, and i’m all in for it!!”

ε ї з — jay

a week after the valentine’s day story blew up, jay went on a live again, just casually talking with his fans that he loves and appreciates so much.

jay was ranting about a cake his mom made him,and explained how cool the design she did looked, to the point where he actually took his phone and scrolled through his gallery to show them a picture.

usually, when idols show their phones on lives or such, they’d turn off their notifications, only this time jay was so into it that he forgot to do it.

at the same time you, being the good old friend you are, responded to a text he sent you a few minutes ago, even before he started the live.

as he was showing his picture on his phone to the fans he also got a notification from you, it was a matter of a few seconds for fans to realize your contact name, and a few seconds for jay to realize he’s doomed.

jay tried to laugh it off but it was too late. now even those who didn’t ship you two and had doubts about it are left speechless.

“i admit i didn’t believe the valentine’s day story and their ship, but now knowing they text each other and probably do every day too? YES!!”

ε ї з — jake

your old meet up with jake was actually filmed for a short vlog, you both work under the same company so it was pretty common to meet up and get it filmed.

a few days after the scandal blew up, a really short vlog of the both of you got released.

fans rushed to watch it and see any clue of jake since it was rumored he was going to be there. the short film got around 100k+ in no time!

fans felt like swooning whenever they watched your interactions, you and jake even spoke in english, considering the fact that you both are foreigners and feel comfortable speaking in english.

jake never looked more shy than when he was literally standing next to you, holding his signed album and just waiting for the right moment to give it to you.

if you’d ask any fan that watched this short vlog, they’d probably tell you they’re 100% sure that something is up with the both of you. the way that he looked at you was something fans never saw before, and the way that you looked at him was as if you finally got to talk with your crush after years of crushing over him.

“i NEVER thought i’d be able to see both of my ults in one frame together!! i bet you a million dollars that they’re dating and fight me if they’re not!! it seemed like they tried to hide it but it looked too overact”

ε ї з — sunghoon

everyone’s favorite ambassadors!! your couple photoshoot got so famous that even people who never heard of the two of you refused to believe you’re not dating.

on your first photoshoot together, you and sunghoon did some funny tiktok challenges that got super famous to the point that people started making edits out of them.

ever since then, each time you’d see each other you’d make a tiktok together, wether it’s a dance challenge or just a very trendy tiktok hence, it wasn’t such a surprised that enhypen’s tiktok account and your tiktok account was filled with tiktoks of the both of you together.

fans brought up new conspiracies of the both of you going on short dates and filming tiktoks together, a whole new chaos was created.

if you thought these tiktoks were enough then think again because not only your tiktok was filled with the both of you, but you also made sure to take many many photos and post it on instagram.

i think out of all ships, yours and sunghoons shippers are being fed so well honestly and they never ever complain about it.

“i never heard about these two until i saw their photoshoots!! you can’t tell me they’re not dating?? and we get too many contents of them two im fully convinced they’re just dropping hints”

ε ї з — sunoo

new years awards came in fast, and all fans were looking forward to collab stages, it was rumored that a lot of 3rd gen and 4th gen are going to perform together, but fans never ever expected you and sunoo to be on one stage together.

him dancing to your performance in one award got so famous that fans even made memes about it, like “me when my favorite song is playing in one store” and more!

the thing is, this stage included only you and him, which made the fans go even more crazy. you and sunoo? on one stage? all alone? fans hoped so bad for that and it happened.

you and sunoo ate the performance, it included a lot of skinship and difficult moves that even fans who tried to cover the collab stage complained about it being really hard.

a stage between a female idol and male idol isn’t something that’s very popular lately (sadly!!!) so it was such a surprise that you and sunoo actually did it.

king and queen of kpop confirmed! your new ship nickname was formed in no time and other fans who watched your stage was mesmerized by how good you two look together.

“IM GOING CRAZY RN!! sunoo and y/n, boyfriend and girlfriend on one stage AND THEY ATE THAT PERFORMANCE!! imagine being on stage with your partner they’re so iconic for that!!”

ε ї з — jungwon

as weeks went by with you and jungwon being MCs, fans got used to see the both of you together every week, it became a routine for them to open their laptop and stream your live, they’ll always find the time to watch the two of you.

when your contract ended, fans were devastated and didn’t want to move on, they even considered to stop watching the show without having the two of you.

even in your last day, you and jungwon looked so sad and unmotivated which made fans even more sad than before. the memories you created will always stay in the show’s history and fans’ hearts.

i guess both of your fans got super lucky because your companies were smart enough to sign the both of you up to a new variety show!!

new content of the both of you together?? in one variety show?? your fans can’t be thankful enough honestly.

fans were going mad watching the both of you being too comfortable around each other, basically doing everything together and staying really close to each other.

“anyone else waiting for them to accidentally expose their relationship on this variety show? come on!! its too obvious they’re dating!!”

ε ї з — riki

ever since that time the both of you met accidentally, the coffee shop became super famous, mostly people who waits to catch the both of you together are going there.

ever since then, fate has its own ways of getting to you, and each time you’re going to buy coffee in local stores, you happen to see him too.

you once uploaded a photo of your coffee to your weverse account and fans noticed a very familiar figure, who just happened to upload a photo of his coffee with you in the background.

and if that wasn’t enough, you were caught by fans together in the same place and this time, even shared a really long conversation. it became a usual thing for the both of you to meet up whenever you’re off to buy coffee, as if you know where to go if you want to meet up.

fans refuse to believe that this is all a coincidence since the evidences are always there, you’ve been seen around each other too many times, even in photos you yourself uploaded.

at one point you just decided to upload a photo together and tease your fans a bit, and it actually worked because the next day you became trending as the coffee couple.

“coffee couple has done it again! do you think their dates must have coffee in it? like what if they go to watch a movie? popcorn and coffee? anyways im fully convinced they’re always planning it and we’re just here to watch”

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @lovelovelovebts (bold means cannot be tagged)

[epwritten]

Winter Falls ~ l.f

"Winter falls, the snow falls purer than anything"

Description: You work as the babysitter of Felix's twins. There's a snowstorm warning for the weekend and you have to stay at the Lee house overnight

Word Count: 3K.

Author's note: Praying for Felix 🥺 I'm so so glad he was showered with love at the last fanmeeting, but it still makes me so sad. Hopefully all the love he's received overcomes the pain.

In honor of the heavy 40cm snowstorm that has been happening this weekend (I live in Canada, what else is new?) I had this little one shot in my head.

Additional note: Pretty fluffy :) Your typical babysitter/ single-dad trope but it doesn't go that far! This is only a oneshot, I don't really see a part 2. 2nd POV ('you' format, you get the drill)

Oh! I also didn't really know how to end it, but didn't want this to reach 4K words, so the ending's kind of abrupt? I apologize 😔

Thank you for reading! I'm working on a longer one shot so this is just something to hold on to for the time being <3

We love you Felix, get well soon 🤍

The sound of an alert rang through your phone. With one eye on the 5 year old twins you babysat, you slowly got up from the carpeted floor and walked over to where your phone was placed on the living room table. You looked down on the notification.

'Severe Winter Storm warning in effect this weekend. Total snowfall accumulations of 25 to 40cm beginning this afternoon Saturday and ending Sunday evening. The heaviest snow is expected Sunday morning'.

You paused, reading that your city would be affected with the snow storm as well. It wasn't like you weren't used to snow storms, where you lived, it certainly was a snowy blissful area. However, you were still at work and wondered what this sudden alert meant for you.

"Hey, that's mine! Give it back!"

The voice of the Lee twins made you snap out of your daydream. Aera, cute with freckles and pigtails had her eyebrows furrowed with instant anger as she pulled at her stuffed teddy bear. Kuho, her brother, equally cute with boba eyes pouted as his eyes started to water.

"I want it!"

"Hey, hey, hey," You intervened, going back to the floor to sit with them. "What did we talk about with sharing?"

"I was playing with Peanut Butter and Kuho took it from me!" Aera cried out.

"But she..." Kuho took a breath. "She doesn't want to share with me!" He wailed.

"Now Kuho....you can't just take what you want. If you want to play with Peanut Butter, you have to ask, okay?"

You reached over and wiped Kuho's tears and then turned to Aera.

"Did you want to share with Kuho?"

Aera paused, her bottom lip sticking out in thought. "Okay..."

You smiled as you saw Aera timidly hand the stuffed bear. The moment was soft when she saw the exchange, their faces suddenly changing as they collaborated on making Peanut Butter dance and jump. You adored these two, it was more than just a job for you. The little family were content and you were grateful you were a part of it somehow.

Your phone now rang and you made a mental note to change the settings from ring to vibrate at least for disturbing the moment. But your heart picked up once you saw the caller ID.

Felix Lee.

Felix Lee was a well-known successful man. He worked as a creation designer for Louis Vuitton. At 25, which was your age as well, he managed to successfully mind the biggest of fashion corporations while balancing being an ambassador as well. But taking away all that, he was a good man. Sweet, humble, measured, and family-oriented.

His kids were not planned, but he never regretted that night at 20, when his then girlfriend told him she was pregnant. He always wanted a family, even if things were rushed. The years leading up to where he was now, was never easy. There were struggles and questioning, relationships between his immediate family that broke (as well as the mother of his children not wanting custody at all), but he remained true to his loyalty for his twins.

You never viewed him with judgment, as you were his age and knew that it could happen to anyone. You also admired Felix because all that you've seen was testaments to how great of a father he was and how he managed to design the life he wanted. They had a great house, he was loved all around and successful.

In the process, you didn't want to become a baby-sitting cliché, but you had to be careful around him. There were feelings you had, and despite being the same age, he was still your boss. You didn't want to jeopardize anything.

You took a deep breath, and then picked up the phone. "Hello?"

Felix said your name, his deep voice content over the line. "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm good, and you?"

"Doing just fine, thank you. The kiddos are good?" Felix asked.

You smiled. "Couldn't be cuter if they tried."

Felix chuckled softly. "As long as they're not causing you that much of a headache."

You glanced over at the two, completely immersed in a dress up game with Peanut Butter. You smiled at their little minds planning how to design. They definitely watched their father from time to time, and it was endearing to you.

"Nope. They're currently designing for a client. Peanut Butter, to be exact."

"Oh-" Felix burst into laughter which made you laugh along with him.

"That's cute. Sounds like I might just hire them, huh? Anyways...I wanted to call you about the snowstorm. It's already starting to snow where I am, so the office is letting us go for the day. I should be back at home in about an hour or so. "

You nodded, your heart skipping when realizing Felix was coming home sooner than later. You looked over at the window, your eyes seeing the blizzard already starting to form.

"Yeah, it's starting to snow hard over here as well. The drive back home will be intense." You said with a dry chuckle, trying to imagine the level of patience and safety you would need to manage it.

"Well...that's partially why I called. The roads are so bad already. was wondering if you wanted to stay for the night for safety measures."

"Pick anything from my closet to wear tonight."

You blinked, a rush of nerves coursing through your body. You were hesitant. That would be mean stepping into THE Felix Lee's room (an action you haven't done at all) and picking something from him (again, something you've never done before).

"Are you sure?" You asked.

"Of course. It'll be uncomfortable sleeping in jeans. I'll make the guest bed and everything for you once I arrive." Felix sounded sure, and you knew that there was no other option.

The two of talked about more, confirming details before he hung up. You played with the twins once more, gathering more stuffed animals to create a fashion show.

When an hour and a few minutes past, you heard the door click open.

"Who's there?" Kuho asked, his big eyes darting from you to the door. You smiled. Of course, the twins didn't expect for Felix to come back so soon, as it was only 4:30pm and he would usually come back at 7:30.

"I don't know, who is that?" You asked, feigning shock.

The twins stayed by your side, holding on to you as they eyed the person now coming in.

Dressed in a long black coat over black jeans and a black turtle neck, Felix looked elegant, just as he usually did when returning from work. He always appeared majestic or expensive, his presence resembling that of a nightly prince. You tried not to gaze in such awe or reduce the redness in your face you felt when you saw him suddenly gasp and fall on his knees, his arms outstretched.

"Appa!"

Aera and Kuho's tiny frames ran over to Felix, nearly toppling over and tackling him in a bear hug. Your heart swelled at the sight, and you started to clean up the little play area as much as you could, now aware that by Felix being here, the twins' attention wouldn't be on the toys lying about.

Felix closed his eyes as he squeezed them both. "I missed you, did you think of me today?"

"Yes!" The twins chorused in unison.

"You have snow on your hair." Aera said, running her hand through Felix's black hair. Felix smiled at her adoringly.

"Ah, I have snow?"

"Yes, I'll take it out for you."

Felix gasped, his mouth widening in a smile.

"You'll take it out for me? Aww thank you, baby."

You smiled, wishing to document the moment. You never knew how Felix did it, after long and hard hours at his job, he still managed to maintain and match the same energy that his 5 year-olds carried.

After a bit, Felix was trying to walk forward with Kuho and Aera hugging his legs like koala bears to a tree. The sound of the kids youthful laughter meshed with Felix's laughter was music to your ears.

"Aera, Kuho, let Appa take his shoes off!" You said, though you knew it wouldn't do anything. Once the twins saw their father, they were too attached.

The twins were unmoved, glued to Felix and he giggled in response. He squatted down somehow, and said something to them in Korean which cause them to suddenly dash away, running across the hallway to meet you in the kitchen. You didn't know what he said exactly, but they were they helping you clean up. You cast a smile over at Felix who flashed a smile as he took off his coat.

"How was work?" You called.

Felix paused, opening the closet to hang up his coat. "It was good, yeah. A bit of an overload at the start, but overall, it was good." He smiled.

"It's really snowing out there." Felix chuckled.

You scowled at the window. "I know. Are you sure about me staying here for the night?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Felix smiled, closing the closet. "I'm just going to get changed and then I'll get started on dinner?"

"You don't have to do that, I can make dinner." You tried to impose.

"This is my way of thanking you for staying here overtime." Felix shot you such a beautiful smile that warmed your heart before headed to the staircase. Kuho followed him, but it was normal of him to never let Felix be by his side. Felix stopped by the end of the stairs, laughed and picked Kuho up before they both went upstairs, leaving you with Aera.

Her little eyes looked alarmed at the sudden change and she looked at the staircase.

"Appa...?"

"He just went to change. He'll be back so soon, okay?" You said, and then took the last of the toys that were on the carpet. "Thank you so much for helping me clean up Aera, you're my big helper." You shared your gratitude.

Aera wanted to watch Bluey and so you turned on the TV, getting it all set up. It didn't take long for little steps to run down the stairs and you heard Kuho scream in excitement. The kids loved Bluey and you even found it refreshing as you were able to organize and sort through the toys cabinet. Though it didn't really matter, the Lee twins would go through it again, but you wanted to help out somehow.

Felix did come down a little later, his change from a the earlier darkened attire to a more reserved white crewneck over black fleece pants. His glasses that were on beforehand was off and hair messy like he ran fingers through it. He looked beautiful, you thought. Effortlessly relaxed but still carrying poise.

He went straight to the kitchen. Though you wanted to help him, he didn't allow you to. You enjoyed the scene, however, though it caused your mind a panic when you had a delusional flash of what marrying Felix would look like. A calm afternoon like this, where Felix was cooking in the kitchen, and you sat on the living room carpet with the twins in your lap, engrossed in the TV.

You needed to focus. You watched Felix's kids, you didn't have kids with him.

Later on, the four of you had dinner. Over the table, you watched as Felix sat immersed as Aera and Kuho went on about their favorite Bluey characters. There was so much adoration and love from his eyes, and pride in his smile. The two of you bounced questions to Aera and Kuho back and forth and snuck smiles at each other whenever their voices rose to talk about the climax of the episode.

The sky grew dark but the snow kept on falling. It was now 7, the time when you would finish and go home, but the snow and wind were harsh. As you cleaned the dishes, you shook your head. There was no way you would be going back in this weather. Absolutely no way.

"Okay, we're gonna change into our pajamas, and we can play one more game, and then we'll get ready for bed, right?" You heard Felix's voice from the living room.

"Can we build a blanket fort?" Kuho's little voice piped out.

"If there's time, little man. Let's go upstairs." Felix said. He repeated it this time in Korean and you smiled at their response. You liked seeing how he would speak both English and Korean to his kids. He once told you that he wished he had more of that encouragement to speak Korean growing up, instead of just answering in English all the time, and had wanted for his kids to follow in the same.

The living room was silent as you heard the voices fade upstairs. With all the dishes done, you sat in the living room, your eyes averted to the window. The snow was beautiful and pure. But the wind was picking up so much, as you heard its howl from indoors. It caused you to worry.

After a few minutes Aera and Kuho came running back downstairs wearing their pajamas. Aera wore red pajamas with kittens on it, and Kuho wore blue pajamas with puppies on them. Aera ran over to you, wrapping her hands around her legs.

"Look at my jammies!"

"Those are beautiful jammies, Aera." You smiled.

"Where are your jammies? Appa told us that you're staying with us until tomorrow." Kuho said.

You paused, turning to look over at Felix who stood by the end of the staircase. He laughed, clapping his hands as the shade of red colored his face.

"Well...I have some jammies..." Your voice trailed off in hesitance, your face suddenly hot too.

Felix nodded. "Just go to my closet. Pick anything you want, okay? It's the first door to your left." He said, walking over to the couch.

You nodded. "Okay. I'll just...grab something...um..thank you." You said shyly.

You went up the stairs, your heart pounding. You were going to Felix's room. Of course, you weren't going to snoop or anything like that, but it was still intimidating. When you stepped in, it was like you expected. Simple, but a huge room. The walls were a deep blue, curtains grey. The closet to your right seemed endless and you slowly walked over. As soon as you opened the doors, your heart skipped a beat. Your eyes scanned the articles that Felix would design, pieces you've seen on magazines or fashion shows, and clothing you've witnessed Felix wear around the house.

You walked over to the left side. Felix had seemed to organize his closet so that all of his home clothes were on the left, and work and outing clothes were to the right. You didn't care for anything fashionable, as these would be clothes you would sleep in. But that sentence alone was something.

In what universe did sleeping in Felix's clothes happen?

You stared at the inside of the closet for a long time before you took a step forward, pulling out an arm sleeve of an oversized soft pastel pink hoodie before pulling it out. Then you found a pair of black sweatpants neatly folded in the drawer. You went to the washroom, half-terrified, half-intrigued.

You changed, folding your own clothes and then looked at yourself in the mirror. The clothes were a bit oversized for you, but the cotton material was comfortable. Plus, the scent of Felix was on your skin. You tried to will yourself to calm down seeing you in the reflection, but it was more of a challenge.

But you had to calm down. He was downstairs.

You took a deep breath and then walked down the stairs, hand on the railing. You could hear Felix giving instructions and could hear the giggles of the twins. They were making the fort no doubt.

But when you reached the end of the stairs, the noise died down doubling to nothing.

"Oooh! You're wearing Appa's clothes!" Aera shrieked.

You had to chuckle at the outburst, your eyes now averting to Felix. He carried a soft smile, but his eyes were on you staring gazing with a certain look you wished to depict.

"I..." You looked down at the outfit, now feeling self-conscious you were wearing it in front of the owner.

"Is this okay? I didn't want to-"

Felix shook his head, smiling. "Of course. You look-"

"You look comfy! Like a snow princess!" Aera interrupted.

Felix smiled. "Come on, snow princess. We're building a fort." His eyes twinkled and your heart did a flip at the pet name.

You went over to the family and joined them, sharing laughter over the night. These certain activities felt domestic, and you willed your heart to calm down. It was just hard because in another life you could see this happening. Everything about this night was so sweet.

"Okay..." Felix muttered as he secured the pole. "Aera, Kuhi-ah, can you help me with the blanket?"

You grinned, excitement bubbling over you. You were happy that they were letting you in on this family tradition of theirs. For the first time ever, staying overnight at a job never felt this nice.

"And we're done!" Felix declared, putting the blanket on top.

"Yay! Let's go in! Let's go in!" Aera cheered.

"Let's go in! Let's go in!" Kuho echoed.

Felix looked over at you, pointing to the fort. "Can you get the candles?"

You nodded. "Of course!" You said with a smile. You rushed over to the kitchen. You knew that Felix loved candles and had some stashed by the cabinets. You debated scents, but finally grabbed one that you thought was appropriate for the setting you were in: Winter Falls.

When you came back, you saw the lights closed and you went back to the fort, joining Felix, Aera and Kuho under the tarp.

"Okay, we're going to light this candle..." You said excitedly.

"Can I do it?" Aera asked.

Felix chuckled, pulling her into his lap before she waddled over to you. "No, not now, baby. You can just watch, okay?" He said, kissing her forehead.

"And then we're going to read the book?" Aera asked, leaning back on Felix. You shot a curious look in their direction, just as Felix took out a book from the floor next to him. He showed you and you smiled at the book. It was a bedtime story they loved hearing you read before they went to sleep.

You smiled, making sure you were away from the twins and then lit the candle. You set it down carefully on the coffee table in front of you all and then sat next to Felix, Kuho now sitting on your lap. You tried not to melt thinking of how intimate this sight looked for a person on the outside looking in.

"Okay, let's read." Felix said. He then looked at you. "Did you want to read?"

You smiled. "You can read if you want." You passed the privilege to him.

"I want both of you to read!" Kuho suddenly exclaimed, tilting his head to look at you.

You paused. "Oh. Well-"

Yet Felix just chuckled as he placed the book over Aera so he could hold it properly. "We'll read it together. I take one page you take another."

You smiled, your heart fluttering as you looked at the pages. "Okay."

"Alright. This is called 'A Great Big Cuddle Before You Say..." Felix's voice trailed off as he looked at Aera and Kuho, waiting for them to yell out the end of the title.

"GOODNIGHT!"

You laughed along with Felix.

"Good job!" You cheered.

Felix cleared his throat. "My parents want me to go to bed, close my eyes and rest my head. But before they get to see the sight, here's a great big cuddle before you say..."

"GOODNIGHT!"

You and Felix laughed again at the participation, and he scooted closer to you, moving the book across Aera's lap to Kuho's so that you could read the next page.

"They tell me to go brush my teeth, to clean up my toys nice and neat. But before they get to see the sight, here's a great big cuddle before you say..."

"GOODNIGHT!"

You and Felix laughed together, finding amusement in the yells of Aera and Kuho. At one point as you kept reading, you could feel Felix from the corner of your eye just looking at you. And when you looked over at him once more, how he looked at you with the awe that reflected how you felt.

Because truly, as the snow fell outside, the wind harsh and cold, you didn't want to be anywhere else, here where warm hearts filled the room with laughter and love. And you hoped that one day, this life would no longer become a faraway dream, but a reality where they would be your true family.

[piarelei]

Date Night

Can be read as a sequel to Bullseye, but doesn't have to be.

Jake slid onto the passenger seat and the leather gave a squeak of protest under him. Bradley gave him a bordering-on-nervous smile. Jake was too floored with how out of character it felt that he barely reacted when he was greeted with a kiss. This was incredibly unusual. 

“Ready?” asked Bradley. 

Jake hummed, trying to settle in his seat. He refused to feel nervous. 

“Right. Let’s go, I made a reservation for 7:30.”  

Jake affiliated the noose that tightened around his throat to hunger. There was no other reason for it. 

The restaurant was beyond nice. Jake was always impeccably dressed, but he felt decidedly out of place trailing after Bradley. Their waiter brought them to a linen-draped table and handed them menus printed on a single sheet of paper. Jake looked up with some alarm, only to find Bradley already mesmerized into his own potential order. 

The table between them was akin to a sea of loneliness. 

“This is not working.”

Bradley looked at him with a bone deep shock. 

“I’m not talking about our relationship. I’m talking about this,” he twirled his finger around, designating the room at large. “I’m missing something.” 

Anger rose on Rooster’s face like a bloom at dawn. “This is a date.”

“Yes. But this is not the sort of date we go on. Honestly, I’m surprised you would choose something like that. Feels awfully heteronormative coming from you.”

Bradley pulled a face. It didn’t hide the sudden blush heating on his neck. “I suck your dick. There’s nothing heteronormative about it.”

Their waiter popped over at this exact moment. He was too polite to say anything, but his gaze held multitudes. “Have you chosen what you would like to start with?” 

“We’ll take two Old Fashioned, thank you.” 

Bradley frowned but didn’t correct him. Once the waiter left with their orders, he leaned over. “I don’t even like Old Fashioneds.” 

“Both are for me. You prefer to drink with your meal anyway.” 

Bradley sighed. “This was not what I envisioned.”

“And what did you envision?” 

“I don’t know. I thought you would be pleased. Less aggressive.” 

Jake crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, feeling too defensive. “Listen, I struggle to understand why we’re not making out on my couch right now.” 

The waiter dropped off their drinks and offered to take their order. Jake let Bradley take charge of his meal. 

Bradley stared at him. “Is it so awful for me to do something…” He winced. “A bit romantic?”

Jake did his hardest to keep his face neutral. It didn’t work, Bradley frowned at whatever he saw in his eyes. 

“Right. This was fucking stupid. Come on, I’ll pay, let’s go.” 

Jake couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t relieved by that, but he also knew that he couldn’t afford any broken china in their relationship after a five-months-long distance.

“Bradshaw, sit down. We’ve been dating for nearly a year. We don’t do this sort of thing.”

Bradley shrugged. “Maybe we should.” 

“Well, I wasn’t under the impression that there was anything wrong with the way we were.” 

Bradley kept quiet. His expression remained stiff. 

Jake leaned back, an idea percolating suddenly. “Are you about to propose?” 

The immediate panic was a relief. “Jesus, no. That would be fucking crazy.” 

“Right. Okay. Well?” 

Bradley looked away, toying with one of the Old Fashion he had appropriated. He sighed, giving in. “It’s just a thing my parents did. Mav told me he used to babysit me all the time so that my Dad could bring my mom to this semi-fancy restaurant she loved. I just thought it would be nice to have this with you.”

Jake softened, then felt a thick surge of guilt take place up in his throat. It felt incredibly selfish to have opposed Bradley every step of the way when he had wanted to do something nice, even if it was different from what they were used to. To what Jake needed. 

“I’m…” He battled with it a few seconds. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to this sort of dating.” 

“That’s my fault too, then.” 

“Fuck off, Bradshaw, you’re not my first boyfriend.” 

“Hopefully, I’m your last.” 

Jake’s words were robbed from his mouth for a good second. “Sounds a lot like you're proposing to me.” 

Bradley leaned back, familiarly smug. “Maybe I should.” 

Jake was grateful to see their waiter coming to keep him from having to say anything incriminating, like yes.

Didn't really have any time before today and worked up a quick thing, more of a character study than anything else. Hoped you enjoyed. Show some love with a reblog baby ♥

[rudyking]

Earrings:

Abby, you and JJ's eight-year-old daughter is set to have her ears pierced at the mall- much to JJ's chagrin.

“Are you sure about this?” JJ asked for what felt like the hundredth time since Abby had declared her burning desire for earrings last week. His blue eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were clouded with a worry that was almost comical, if it wasn’t so genuinely JJ. Deep dimples punctuated his anxious frown.

“Positive, honey,” you said gently, squeezing his hand. “She’s been talking about it for months. It’s her birthday next week, remember? This is her big gift.”

“But… metal… in her ears?” He grimaced, as if the very concept was physically painful. “Like, we’re intentionally creating holes. What if they get infected? What if she’s allergic to the metal? What if she trips and the earring rips out?”

You chuckled, used to his dramatic, albeit loving, overreactions, especially when it came to Abby. “They use hypoallergenic studs, JJ. We’ll clean them religiously. And she’s not going to rip them out. She’s a pretty responsible eight-year-old.”

“Responsible for eight,” he muttered, unconvinced. “That’s still basically a tiny, unpredictable human. They do unpredictable things, Yn. Like decide to join the circus or shave their head or, you know, get holes punched into their delicate earlobes.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “It’s hardly joining the circus, JJ. Millions of people have pierced ears. It’s practically a rite of passage.”

“Rite of passage into potential bleeding and fainting spells is what it sounds like,” he grumbled, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He was trying to be funny, even amidst his worry. That was JJ in a nutshell: humor and anxiety battling it out, with love always winning in the end.

You reached ‘Claire’s Accessories,’ a glittery explosion of pink and purple that seemed designed to lure in every child within a five-mile radius. Abby gasped, eyes wide with delight, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Mom! Dad! Look!” She pointed at the earring display, a dazzling array of studs and hoops. “Can I get the sparkly unicorns? Or maybe the little hearts? Ooh, or the rainbows!”

JJ paled visibly. “Rainbows? Are rainbows sharp? Do they have pointy bits? What if they poke her in the neck when she sleeps?”

You nudged him gently. “They’re studs, JJ. Studs. Not tiny swords.” To Abby, you smiled reassuringly. “You can pick whatever you like, sweetie. But let’s get your ears pierced first, okay? Then we can choose the earrings.”

Abby nodded eagerly and marched towards the counter where a young woman with brightly colored hair and multiple ear piercings smiled warmly. “Hi there! Ready for some new earrings?”

“Yes!” Abby chirped, practically bouncing on the spot.

JJ, however, looked like he was ready to bolt. He gripped your hand tighter, his knuckles white. “Right, so, uh, before we proceed with the… perforation… can we just, maybe, run through all the, you know, potential downsides?” he asked the young woman, his voice a little too high-pitched.

The woman blinked, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Downsides? Well, it might sting a little bit.”

“Sting? Just sting? Is that all? No risk of… exsanguination? Or, like, a sudden drop in blood pressure leading to… unconsciousness?” JJ’s sarcasm was definitely a defense mechanism, a shield against his genuine fear.

You squeezed his hand again, a silent ‘calm down’ message. The woman, bless her soul, remained unfazed. “It’s a very quick and simple procedure. We use a sterilized piercing gun, and it’s over in a second. We have numbing cream if you like.”

“Numbing cream – good, good, that’s a start,” JJ muttered, sounding like he was negotiating a hostage situation. “But what about… trauma? Psychological scarring? Will she need therapy after this? Are you trained in post-piercing emotional support?”

You could see the woman trying hard not to laugh. “Sir, it’s just an ear piercing. Kids get them done all the time. She’ll be fine.”

“‘Fine’ is subjective!” JJ exclaimed, his voice rising slightly. “What’s ‘fine’ for you might be a catastrophic ear-related incident for my precious, delicate daughter!”

Abby, oblivious to the escalating parental drama, was now sitting in the designated piercing chair, looking around with wide-eyed curiosity. You knelt beside her, smoothing her hair. “Excited, sweetheart?”

“Yeah!” she beamed. “I’m gonna choose the unicorn ones right after!”

“That’s great, honey.” You glanced at JJ, who was now pacing nervously, muttering under his breath about tetanus and rogue germs. You shot him a look that said, ‘Get it together.’

He stopped pacing, took a deep breath, and walked over to Abby. He knelt beside her on the other side, his face etched with concern. “Abbs, peanut, listen to me. This is… a big step. A very big step. We’re talking about… altering your physical form. Permanently. Are you absolutely sure about this?”

Abby giggled. “Dad, it’s just earrings.”

“Just earrings?” JJ repeated incredulously. “These aren’t ‘just earrings,’ Abby. These are… portals. Entry points for… who knows what! Microscopic invaders! Fashion trends that you might regret in ten years! Earring weight-related earlobe sag in forty!”

You couldn't help but stifle a laugh. JJ was truly in his element – the element of utter, hilarious panic.

“Dad,” Abby said patiently, like she was the adult in this situation, “I want them. All my friends have them. And it’s gonna be fun!”

JJ looked at her, his expression softening. His protective instincts, usually bubbling just beneath the surface, were clearly overflowing. He reached out and took her hand, his big, calloused hand engulfing her small one.

“Okay, okay, peanut. If you’re sure, then I’m… supportive. Very, very supportive. I’m going to hold your hand, okay? For… moral support. For both of us.” He squeezed her hand tightly.

You watched him, your heart swelling with a mixture of amusement and affection. He was such a paradox, JJ. Rebellious and carefree on the outside, but fiercely loyal and desperately caring on the inside, especially when it came to Abby. His tough exterior crumbled instantly when it came to her well-being.

The woman cleaned Abby’s earlobes with an antiseptic wipe, marking the spots with a purple pen. Abby just giggled, unfazed. JJ, however, was sweating. You could see beads of perspiration forming on his forehead.

“Okay, deep breaths, everyone,” the woman said cheerfully. “Ready?”

Abby nodded, beaming. You gave her a thumbs up. JJ just stared, his eyes wide, his grip on Abby’s hand tightening to the point where her knuckles were probably turning white.

“On the count of three,” the woman said. “One… two…”

JJ squeezed his eyes shut so tightly his face scrunched up. He was paler than you’d ever seen him. You almost expected him to faint before Abby did.

“THREE!” There was a tiny ‘click’ sound, and Abby gasped, but it wasn’t a cry.

“Ow! That pinched!” she said, but her eyes were shining with excitement.

“Okay, one down! Just one more!” the woman said quickly, moving to the other ear.

JJ’s eyes were still squeezed shut, but he was muttering something under his breath, which sounded suspiciously like a prayer. “Please let it be over. Please let her be okay. Please, ear gods, spare my child…”

Another ‘click,’ and it was done.

Abby blinked, then grinned, touching her ears gingerly. “Wow! I did it!”

JJ’s eyes snapped open. He looked at Abby, then at her ears, then back at Abby, his expression shifting from abject terror to bewildered relief. He let out a long, shaky breath.

“You… you didn’t cry,” he said, sounding genuinely astonished. “You didn’t faint. You didn’t even bleed… profusely.”

Abby giggled again. “It wasn’t that bad, Dad! See? They look so cool!” She pointed proudly at the tiny sparkly studs in her ears.

JJ stared at them, as if trying to fathom the mechanics of how they got there without causing a major medical emergency. He reached out a finger hesitantly and gently touched one of the studs.

“Huh,” he said, still sounding slightly dazed. “Well, I’ll be… They’re actually… kinda cute.” Then, his protective instincts kicked back in, albeit in a slightly less panicked way. “Okay, new rules. No sleeping on your side. No touching them with dirty hands. No playing contact sports… actually, maybe no sports at all for a while. We need to sanitize them, like, every hour. And if they even look slightly red, we are going straight to the ER.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Relax, JJ. She’ll be fine. They look perfect, Abby.”

Abby grinned, beaming. “Thanks, Mom! Thanks, Dad! Can we get the unicorn earrings now?”

JJ, still slightly pale but visibly recovering, smiled at Abby, all traces of his earlier panic replaced by pure, unadulterated adoration. “Unicorns? Absolutely, peanut. Anything for my brave, ear-pierced superhero. But if those unicorns have pointy bits, we are having a serious discussion.”

As you all walked towards the earring display, Abby chattering excitedly about unicorns and rainbows, you caught JJ’s eye. He winked, his deep dimples flashing. “Scariest five minutes of my life,” he murmured, squeezing your hand. “But she was amazing. Just like her mom.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “She gets it from you, silly. The bravery, I mean. And maybe just a little bit of the drama.”

JJ chuckled, wrapping an arm around you and Abby both. “Hey, drama makes life interesting. And at least now I have a new thing to worry about. Earring-related injuries. Gotta keep life exciting, right?”

You just laughed again, knowing that beneath all the sarcasm and over-the-top anxieties, JJ’s heart was overflowing with love for his little girl, and that, more than anything, was truly beautiful, even if it was wrapped in layers of hilarious, protective panic. And as you watched Abby excitedly choosing her unicorn earrings, you knew that this was just the beginning of a whole new stage of JJ’s delightfully dramatic, and always loving, fatherhood.

[linkspooky]

The Death of Kenjaku

So I was planning to write this meta the week that Kenjaku died, but decided to delay until we got full confirmation of his death. Something I didn't believe in even after Kenjaku passed the merger onto Sukuna. However, watching this video about death in Jujutsu Kaisen inspired me to finish this post. Not because I disagree with anything the YouTuber is saying, but because they can speculate on the meaning of so many deaths in Jujutsu Kaisen but can't find the meaning in Kenjaku's sudden death. This has led me to speculate why Gege made the choice to kill Kenjaku in the way that he did. What meaning is there in Kenjaku's abrupt and unsatisfying death?

Who is Kenjaku?

The first step in understanding Kenjaku's death is of course understanding how he lived. We actually know incredibly little about Kenjaku's character by design. Despite the fact he's literally in Geto's body, he's not meant to have sympathetic or human motivations to his actions (though hold onto that "human motivation" in your head for a moment). No flashback sequence shows the audience why this guy is the way he is, no single event seems to have driven him to do what he did.

This is what we know about Kenjaku in brief. He is a sorcerer who is over a thousand years old who was around in Sukuna's day. He once had a friendship with Tengen, but found her original self boring and unambitious. He also contrasts heavily with Tengen, who lives outside of humanity, because he has lived among humanity for 1,000 years. One of those lifetimes was Noritoshi Kamo who violated a woman and conducted heinous experiments. He produced ten children in his one thousand years, the nine death painting siblings and Yuji Itadori. He considers the first children boring, because human and curse hybrids turned out too normal.

He also partially blames himself for how boring they are, because he can't create anything that will exceed his expectations, the only thing that can exceed his expectations is born in chaos. He spent a thousand years organizing the culling games, and wants to use the games to create a merger, because he thinks creating a merger between Tengen and Humanity will create something entirely new and interesting. He also believes the way towards the future lies in further optimizing cursed energy, not in breaking away from it the way Yuki Tsukumo tried to do and Maki has.

The only people whose word we have on Kenjaku's motivations are Kenjaku himself, and Tengen's word and Tengen themselves who claims to not know what goes on in the human heart.

From all of the above Kenjaku seems to be a shallow character who's motivations can be summed up as "because I can" and "I want to see what happens." This shallowness is intentional however, as Gege who once praised the minimalist storytelling of Nasu and Evangelion likes to pick and choose what crumbs of backstory he gives out for his characters. We've never gotten any exposition on the Gojo clan, but we have an entire chapter about Takaba's failed career as a stand-up comic. This isn't a judgement of good or bad writing, this is just how Gege writes as minimalist as possible. This is in line with how Gege writes the ancient sorcerers as well, they are all much more shallow driven by instinct or Freudian Id (I desire) rather than the higher reasoning of modern-day sorcerers. Takaba uses comedy as a means of communication and bridging the gaps between people, Higuruma's backstory is the critique of the modern day justice system. Ishigori apparently lived a satisfying life where he was succesful and had good women, but that wasn't enough so he wants to get into a fight with Yuta to satisfy his hunger and feel like he's eaten desert.

It sounds shallow when I summarize it in text, but in the context of the fight with Yuta, it's a challenge for Yuta who for the most part only cares about his loved ones and sees the world through his love goggles to be more selfish and fight for his own desires. It's also reflective of a more basic and instinctual kind of thinking, as opposed to the higher reasoning and logic that modern-day sorcerers apply.

I'm keeping most of this first part to text for this reason, like go back and read the fight with Ishigori and Yuta. If I summarize Ishigori's character reasoning out of context it sounds stupid, but read the fight and it works because it's ID (I Desire) vs. Yuta's superego in not only having to collect points to help rescue Tsumiki, find a way to protect all the innocent people in the Culling Games, and also collect enough points to take on Kenjaku himself so Gojo won't have to. Meanwhile Ishigori's just fighting to get some of that sweet desert, the shallow works in contrast to the more layered motivations of our heroes.

Kenjaku is a shallow archetype fighting to satisfy his baser impulses (in his case curiosity) in comparison to the main characters who are fighting for more complicated reasons and often people besides themselves.

The question then becomes what archetype is Kenjaku. In that case answering who Kenjaku is is quite simple.

Kenjaku is a clown.

It might be more accurate to say that Kenjaku embodies what's commonly known as the "trickster archetype" but I'mma go with clown.

The most obvious example of a clown villain is what most consider the joker to be, that is a silly little clown man who challenges the straight faced and grim batman and sews chaos where Batman attempts to establish law and order in Gotham and make the city into a better place.

From the book Batman and Psychology:

More than any other villains, the Joker and Two-face reflect Batman himself as funhouse distortions, converses of who and what he is. The laughing, jesting, brightly colored Joker contrasts with grim, dark Batman. The Joker is the Joker. No alter ego. The film's opening bank robbery shows him wearing a clown mask over clown makeup, Under the surface there's only more Joker. He gives no history except inconsistent lies. When he finally considers the impact of his demand Batman unmask, he retracts the threat and demands that Batman's identity remain undisclosed. He wants a batman who has no other self, a Dark Knight whose only deeper layer is further darkness.

Is there a better descriptor for Kenjaku then these words?

Kenjaku is Kenjaku. No alter ego. A clown mask over clown makeup., Under the surface there's only more Kenjaku.

In other words, what you see is what you get.

Kenjaku even mirrors Joker's opinion of Batman, he thinks people should be more like him, not the other way around. He's not the outlier, he's being true to humanity's basic impulses of curiousity and discovery.

A more apt comparison as a clown though would probably be Loki, one of the most classic examples of clowning in the shared mythology of humanity. The character who challenges the common wisdom of gods like Odin who suspended themselves from the world tree for eleven days in order to gain wisdom. Loki, who through his trickery manages to bring about the events of Ragnarok for no deeper reason than because he can. Everyone swore not to harm Balder and Loki goes to find something that can harm him because BET.

Mythological Loki doesn't need a deeper motivation because what he represents in the mythology is someone who challenges authority and brings about a change, because in Norse Mythology nothing lasts forever and no era is permanent. Jujutsu Kaisen is also a story about how things should not in fact stay the same and tradition is bad sometimes.

When Kenjaku finds Tengen's true body he's curled up in a tree root in the fetal position, and he killed what is basically the all-knowing, all-seeing supposedly immortal sorcerer that maintains the status quo of japan, it's not exactly subtle.

Kenjaku is a clown, and clown's gotta clown. We don't need any more explanation that, it's more about what he does for the story. However, what he represents, the deep intellectual curiosity, and also a drive to disrupt the status quo in an attempt to see something more interesting can also be analyzed more deeply because they are human emotions that motivate us as well. The same way that Mahito is an inhuman monster, but he's created and motivated by the fear of other humans, something all of us have. '

Before moving onto his death though, I wanna hammer in how Kenjaku really is just motivated by these two things, a desire to see something interesting, and intellectual curiosity by comparing him to other characters.

The Clown in Fiction

I've already compared Kenjaku to Loki and the Joker, but when it comes to someone who wants to disrupt the entire order of the world simply because they're bored we've got to go to the original girlboss.

So there are plenty of villains who go "I'm evil because I'm bored" but they usually tend to be pretty shallow, either shallowly written for the lulz evil characters who just exist for shock value or just kinda dull. No one has ever done it as good as Junko Enoshima and no one ever will again.

For those who need context DanganRonpa is a death game series where the main villain basically has caused the apocalypse, wiped out most of humanity, and then induces survivors in a bunker to kill each other in a death game, where if someone commits a succesful murder they can escape the bunker, but if they're caught in a trial they're executed. Also, if they're not convicted in the trial everyone else is killed, motivating the jury to find and execute the guilty murderer.

Junko Enoshima the main villain and orchestrator of this death game ended the world because despair. She wants to inflict despair on everyone because despair. Because hope sucks and despair is where it's at.

It sounds shallow and it is and Kodaka has said in interview he wrote Junko to be a villain character with zero redeeming character traits, and no sympathetic backstory to describe why she is the way she is, but there is still something motivating her.

If you go a bit deeper into the lore and read Dangan Ronpa Zero, there is an entire book which explains the lengths which Junko goes to feel normal human emotions. The thing is much like Kenjaku Junko is too smart for her own good, everything is predictable and therefore everything bores her. Once in an attempt to live normally, she literally lobotomizes herself, makes it so that she can't remember anything and has continual amnesia constantly forgetting what just happened to her, because that's the only way she can live without knowing everything that's going to happen and constantly predicting everyone's actions.

Junko has whatever her universe's version of the six-eyes is, but instead of lording it over other people like Gojo and basking in her superiority she wants to feel normal, and connected to the world. If she can't have that she tries to make the world as unpredictable place as possible so she can experience it the same way that everyone else does.

Hope is harmony. A just heart, moving toward the light. That is all. Despair is hope's polar opposite. It is messy and confusing. It swallows up love, hatred, and everything else. Because not knowing where you will end up is despair. Despair is even what you cannot predict. Only despair's unpredictability can save you from a boring future.

I'm still not describing it properly because I don't want to go into a Danganronpa essay in this post about Jujutsu Kaisen, but one example I always use is two characters from American Dragon Jake Long. They're a pair of twins who see the future, one always sees happy things, and one always sees sad things. The one who has happy visions is a goth who's very depressed and the one who sees disaster is an incredibly peppy girl.

Jake is so confused as to why the twin who always sees good visions is so depressed, and she basically tells him to imagine having every good thing, every small little surprise, every pleasure taken out of life.

Kara: When you only see good things, nothing's special anymore. All the pleasant surprises are taken out of life. Sara: But, when you only see bad stuff, even the smallest bit of good news makes you happy!

All of this to say what Junko feels isn't just boredom, or a desire to commit evil for evil's sake, but also a full on existential crisis where she's simply too smart so she doesn't feel any connection to other people or the world around her. In order to feel that connection, that connection that everyone else has, to feel like she is actually a participant in her life not an observer she's willing to go to extremes to make the world a more interesting place, to therefore make her own life feel satisfying.

Kenjaku vs. The World (Kenjaku Pilgrim's sad little life)

To connect all this back to Kenjaku imagine the profound existential despair of a person who's lived for a thousand years, and felt bored all that time. Sukuna is at least a hedonist, he gets his fun by getting into fights, humans might be bugs to him but they're tasty bugs.

Kenjaku goes to similiar motivations and has similiar extremes, he's uninvested in the world around him, he's lived a thousand years but has no attachment to the world, to life, to the people around him. I said that Junko wants to be a participant in life not an all seeing observer and that was purposeful language because to bring back an old post. I rambled on this post about Gojo that part of Gojo's problem is that he only experiences observer-to-object relationships or I to it.

Ich and Du, translated as I and Thou is a book by philosopher Martin Buber. His two main porositions is that we may address existence in two ways:

The attitude of the “I” towards “it” towards an object that is separate in itself, which we either use or experience.

The attitude of “I” towards “Thou” in a relationship in which the other is not separated by discrete bounds.

In Buber's terms, those who only experience the first type of relationships are only observing the world around them not relating to them. Kenjaku doesn't relate to other human beings because they are objects, he only experiences subject -> object relationships and never subject -> subject.

Buber also goes on to theorize that meaning in our lives comes from subject -> subject relationships we form with other people.

Kenjaku jokingly says that to be his friend you have to never bore him and be his equal, but there's no one considers his equal because he's the subject and everyone else are just objects.

He regrets he can't sit down and talk theories with Tsukumo Yuki because she's one of the few people who think like him.

Kenjaku is a paradox of an incredibly brilliant man who is also shallow as a puddle that you can stand in and not get your socks wet. However, he tragically can't really form a more complex identity because our identities are formed by our relationships to other people and Kenjaku doesn't relate to anybody.

That's basically the theme of the whole Choso and Kenjaku fight, Choso is a weird aborted fetus of a curse who still has a strong identity and is able to feel unconditional love for Yuji because of the connection of family and the ideas of brotherhood that binds the two. Kenjaku is a bad father who abandoned Choso because they were "boring" but also never really gave them a chance to grow up or be interesting, he just dismissed them offhand and moved on to the next weird science project.

However, his reason for dismissing Choso isn't Choso's fault but rather a case of Psychological projection. It's not Choso who is boring, but rather Kenjaku himself, he said so earlier.

"What I can create, does not exceed the bounds of my own potential. The answer is always flickering darkly in chaos."

Kenjaku cannot look within to find anything satisfying abput his life because there's nothing inside of him. He doesn't have a fully formed identiy he's just ID, and because he tramples all over other people to form his desires he also cannot ever form a full ego. Just like Sukuna and most of the ancient sorcerers he's a paradox of being all ego, and yet having an underdeveloped ego with shallow motivators.

Kenjaku cannot look within because he's a boring person, and he cannot look for other people to find worth in his life because they're just objects, so instead he looks into the void, he tries to change the world around him by spreading more chaos hoping that it will make something unpredictable happen in front of his eyes - and that will give him the meaning and investment in his life he's deprived himself of because he refuses to form relationships with other people.

It's the Gojo problem. It's the Kashimo problem. It's not the Sukuna problem, because Sukuna admits he doesn't care about and rejects things like love and meaning.

If Kenjaku makes the world around him a more interesting place, he will be able to live in it. It's the same as Gojo trying to raise people up to his level by creating stronger students.

So after going to great length to demonstrate how powerful and all-consuming Kenjaku's boredom is, and how cut off he is from his own humanity, here's the part where I sort of defend his death.

Wouldn't it be funny if the joke character killed the main villain?

Let's be honest it was Takaba's kill here, Yuta just camped and killstole. I think part of the problem with people not understanding the meaning behind Kenjaku's sudden and unexpected death is attributing the death to Yuta cutting his head off out of nowhere, and not Takaba's thematic victory over Kenjaku.

Takaba represents a blindspot for Kenjaku which is why the main characters use him as a weapon against him, and he also calls out in a fashion Kenjaku's hypocrisy. First and foremost, Kenjaku presents himself as an agent of change, but he actually has no interest in many of the modern sorcerers and holds a bias towards the heian era as the peak of sorcery. He even says that he's going to bring back the Heian Golden Age to Sukuna at the end of Shibuya arc.

Because that's what Chaos is Kenjaku, things being the same as they were 1,000 years ago. Kenjaku is an agent of change and chaos and somehow his definition of change is... resetting things back to the past because the sorcerers of the past were so much better than today.

Kenjaku goes out of his way to awaken hundreds of modern day sorcerers, and then dismisses literally off of them except for Hiromi because they don't have enough potential for him compared to ancient sorcerers. He essentially did the same with the Death Painting Bros, he went through all of the trouble to create them, then dismissed them as not having enough potential BEFORE THEY EVEN GOT THE CHANCE TO GROW UP.

Kenjaku has a habit of just going BORED NOW and leaving before he even gives things the time to impress him. He does the same with the Culling Game, he set up the death game to push sorcerers to fight each other and bring out their powers, but he never actually intended to watch the sorcerers evolve. He just wanted to slaughter everyone inside to start the merger.

He goes through a lot of potential to set up these situations and then abandons them before they have the chance to even evolve, because they do not have enough "potential" in his opinion, but like his opinion is often shown to be wrong. Takaba represents that blindspot because he was one of the modern sorcerers that Kenjaku underestimated and dismissed offhand as boring without giving him a chance to shine.

That is the joke that Takaba introduces himself with "Wouldn't it be funny if a random comic relief side character suddenly defeated the big bad?"

He's immediately pointing out a blindspot, because Kenjaku automatically believes himself to be an important character, he underestimates Takaba because he's a side character, one of the people Kenjaku has dismissed as boring and uninteresting (before they even had a chance to evolve into something else). Like that's the other thing Kenjaku wants things to evolve but he doesn't... let them. He abandoned Choso and the rest before they even grew up, they were literally fetuses and he threw them away. Kenjaku is the protagonist of reality, and Takaba is a side character, and therefore Takaba couldn't possibly harm him because Kenjaku and his boundless curiosity are the center of the world.

It's not just about subverting the audience's expectations to have the main villain die in such an anti-climactic way before the final act even starts, but it's pointing out how narrow Kenjaku's viewpoints really were all along. He wants everything to be surprised but he never lets anything surprise him, because either he gets bored right away, or he looks down on others before giving them the chance to evolve, or the third thing he just straight up has to control everything. He can't let the culling game evolve naturally he's going to slaughter all the players by hand so he can move onto the next part.

It's the contradiction between a schemer who needs to control everything and everyone to bring about his intended result and everything needs to be a part of his big plans, to someone who wants to be surprised by others and have things go off the rails. You can't have both of these things at once, Kenjaku cannot have things surprise him if he rigs everything to go his way with his overly elaborate schemes and his tight-fisted control of everyone in the story.

Like, in comparison to Kenjaku the joker just blows things up and sprays people with laughing gas. They're both playing the same game but the joker is having fun and Kenjaku isn't.

Kenjaku wants an unexpected future, but he doesn't care about any of the modern sorcerers and has a bias towards the heiean era that he considers the height and wants to reset things to bring back the heian era. He wants to be surprised but won't give up control.

Kenjaku's boast is that unlike Tengen he's spent a thousand years living on the ground instead of lording up on them from above like some deity, but is that true? Has Kenjaku lived? Has he engaged with the world? Formed relationships with people? Or does he just sit in the corner rubbing his hands together menacingly and scheming his schemes.

Takaba unironically gives Kenjaku what he wants, something he's never seen before in a thousand years, and it's from a place Kenjaku never expected. Some random guy, who he dismissed as one of the boring modern sorcerers with no potential like Higuruma.

Takaba not only exists in Kenjaku's blindspot, he almost immediately points out Kenjaku's second hypocrisy. If he's willing to resort to mass murder just to feel entertained, then if he found something else to entertain him there'd be no reason to get violent and scheme his schemes.

In other words Kenjaku hasn't really gone looking for other places to try to find what makes life worth living, or at least enertaining, he hasn't really tried any alternatives to finding joy in life because Jujutsu is all he cares about. Takaba says that if he found something else even more entertaining than the merger there'd be no need to go through with the merger, and he turns out to be right. Kenjaku could have found meaning and entertainment with the world someplace else, he was just too narrow minded and never looked anywhere else.

As I said from the beginning Kenjaku's existential crisis comes from his inability to relate to other people and viewing them all as objects, but in Kenjaku's mind of course he can't relate to others they're too boring, so therefore it's the world's fault, and the fault of others and not himself.

However, right away one of those boring people starts relating to Kenjaku.

I joked about how we know nothing about the Gojo clan but Takaba gets an entire backstory chapter about his failed comedy career, but this chapter is plot important because jokes are the way that Takaba relates to and forms relationships with other people. Takaba makes jokes to relate to others but has a fallout with a comedy partner and has never been able to form a lasting relationship with a comedic partner because comedy doesn't mean the same to them as it does to him - because to Takaba comedy is about forming relationships with people. Which is why he thinks he's failed if he's failed to make everyone in the audience laugh because he wants to make comedy that will make other people relate to him and understand him.

However, he almost gives up on comedy because he's afraid that he might fail on that endeavor. He gives up on striving to make everybody in the audience laugh, because of self-affirmation and a desire to protect himself. He didn't want to fail so he started distancing himself from the audience under the excuse "Well, I can't make everyone laugh so it's okay if not everyone understands me."

Takaba at some point gave up on trying to use comedy as a means of understanding and relating to others, because of his fear of failure and at that point he nearly lost - but he rallies himself by saying that he won't give up on making someone like Kenjaku laugh. If his comedy is about connecting to others, about understanding others and having others understand him then he can't just give up on Kenjaku and say it's Kenjaku's fault that Kenjaku can't relate to his sense of humor. He's got to try even harder to make Kenjaku laugh.

This is also pretty much the opposite of Kenjaku's point of view. For Kenjaku it's everyone else's fault for being so boring that's why he can't relate to them. Wheras, Takaba takes personal responsibility, he wasn't funny enough, he has to try harder, he's the one who's going to make Kenjaku laugh by improving himself. Takaba looks inward, and Kenjaku looks outwards because there's nothing inside Kenjaku.

This is a parallel to this.

The difference however, is that Sukuna did not betray his ideology. Sukuna lives for the kicks that battle provides him and wants to face strong opponents so he can eventually devoured them and be momentarily entertained.

Like Sukuna is not bored the way Kenjaku is. The world is his playground. He may refer to living as just killing time until you die, but he also says that there's an infinite variety of humans to entertain yourself with. The world is Sukuna's toybox and he's satisfied with just that. In fact he doesn't even care about the merger, until his frustration with Yuji makes him think a little deeper about himself.

Kenjaku is not the Sukuna in this scene, he's the Gojo. He believed he was above others, only to be reminded suddenly that he was just the same as everyone else and brought back down to humanity. I mean, they even die off panel the same anticlimactic way. Gojo's infinity meant nothing in the face of one surprise attack a world-cleaving slash Gojo didn't see coming. All of Kenjaku's backup plans meant nothing in the face of Yuta camping and kill-stealing.

Kenjaku didn't lose because Yuta's plan of camping and killstealing was simply too brilliant for him to prepare for however, we're given the exact reason kenjaku lost - because he was having too much fun with Takaba.

Which meant what Takaba said earlier was true, if Kenjaku found something funnier, something other than the merger that could make him laugh there'd be no need to go through with the merger to begin with.

Kenjaku loses because all along he could have related to people, formed meaningful relationships with others, looked for meaning in life outside of Jujutsu but just chose not to. Which is also a parallel to this.

Sukuna says that Kashimo and Gojo both lost because they were greedy. They already received love in a way, they had the love of everyone who regarded them as the strongest, they had people who earnestly wanted to challenge them and respected them - which Sukuna sees as a form of love, and yet they still wanted more.

They were the ones who put themselves up on that pedestal and decided to stand above all of humanity, they don't get to whine about being lonely on top of that.

To add my interpretation to Sukuna's speech, what he's outlining is a general conflict in Jujutsu Kaisen, you can choose to be all ego to put personal development above everything else but it comes at the cost of not being able to form relationships. Maki's as powerful as Toji now, but the sister she always wanted to protect is dead and basically committed suicide. Meanwhile Noritoshi Kamo didn't participate in the final battle, but he reconnected with his mother and half-brother.

There are plenty of characters who die and suffer in jujutsu kaisen because they chose to value other people above themselves, because Jujutsu Kaisen rewards selfishness and punishes selflessness / having an underdeveloped sense of self.

I'll pick Mechamaru as my biggest example, he lived to protect Miwa, and not only does he die an unsatisfying death, he also breaks her heart.

However, at least Mechamaru experienced love. His desire to protect Miwa is granted, because Miwa is also out of the final conflict. Mechamaru is one of the most miserable characters in the manga, and yet he experienced love in his life for someone else that made his brief life meaningful. The characters who choose love, and other people over strength tend to get stepped on, but they at least had that love in their life to begin with.

It's a having your cake and eating it too situation. Kashimo chose strength over love, and he got to be so strong he was unbeatable and lived to old age, but not only is he unfulfilled but he whines about being unable to relate to the people around him - you're the one who chose to step on everyone like bugs.

Characters in Jujutsu Kaisen don't just experience death when they try to be selfless however, like yeah there's a disproportionate amont of selfless minor characters who die, but like Yuji is the most selfless character in the manga and he's continually punished for it and yet he's the one referred to as a person with an unbreakable will.

Rather instead of Jujutsu Kiasen preferring the selfish side on the scale of selfishness / selflessness, the kind of messy, deaths that get handed out to people like Mechamaru happen when you betray the ideals you were living for. Whether they were selfish or selfless.

It goes back to Toji's internal monologue. You lose when you lose sight of yourself - like there's some deaths that don't fit the mould but for the most part, Gojo, Kashimo, Toji's and then Kenjaku's deaths all follow this pattern. By coincidence they also all take place offscreen for the most part (I suppose we see Yuta cut off Kenjaku's head but it's quick and unsatisfying compared to all the rest).

Kenjaku died because he betrayed what he was living for and he temporarily lost sight of himself. As I said Kenjaku's airtight principles were that everyone was boring and people weren't worth relating too so the only way to find enertainment in life is to cause chaos - but he found himself relating to some nobody he wrote off as a minor character Takaba and having fun with him. Which meant the belief he was false, he could have tried relating to other people all along he just didn't.

He warped his sense of self to reaffirm his identity. Takaba almost did that too, he tried to blame other people for not finding him funny to protect himself, but he moved past that and redoubled his efforts to make Kenjaku laugh.

There's also the added layer of irony that Kenjaku's sudden death brings about, the person who spent a thousand years trying to make the merger happen doesn't get to see it.

However, here's my assertion on why Kenjaku's death before the merger always had to happen.

Because, even if Kenjaku had seen the merger he still would have been bored.

Literally everything about Kenjaku's character and previous actions shows that even if he made his big scheme come true, he would have gone "meh" and moved onto the next scheme because that's how he always reacts.

He got bored of the death painting siblings, he presumably got bored of Yuji, he got bored of all the ancient sorcerers and new sorcerers he made for the culling game, he worked with the disaster curses and got bored of them and dismissed them as inferior primitive curses, he goes out of the way to engineer these chaotic situations and then never feels any satisfaction from them so why would the Merger be any different?

Not only did Kenjaku die before he saw the merger, he was basically doomed to never see the merger, because it would not have fixed whatever is wrong inside of him.

Because it's not the world that's boring, it's Kenjaku himself.

He gets a brief glimpse of what he could have done in life, that he could have tried to forge connections with the people around him and related to them on a personal level - and then he dies the way he lived, in a kind of boring and unsatisfying way.

It's the narrative punishing him in a way, the same way it punished Gojo, and Kashimo, by not letting him see the big explosion after he went to all the trouble rigging the bombs. It's punishing him for the same reason too - by deviating from his true self and showing what he thought were his reasons were shallow all along. Gojo could have always related to people he just chose to stand on his pedestal alone, and Kenjaku could have always found the world to be more enertaining he was the one dismissing other people as boring without giving them a chance to grow.

Takaba confronted his beliefs and then stayed true to his ideology of making everyone, 100% of the people in the crowd laugh. Kenjaku didn't confront his beliefs, he strayed from them because he didn't have the strength of character to evaluate himself the way Takaba did.

Hence, he's finished off by one of those boring people who used their power in a way he never expected. The main villain is defeated by the comic relief character and it's hilarious.